Rufus had called in advance, stating his intentions.
Holding a copy of that day’s Goss in his right hand, he knocked on the door he’d been directed to by the security man at the Bayswater Road entrance. It was round the corner in Kensington Palace Gardens.
The door opened slightly. Rufus made the announcement he’d practised. He held The Goss up high.
“I am Rufus Johnson. I request asylum. My life is in extreme danger in Britain.”
“You’d better come in. We’ve been expecting you Mr Johnson.”
Rufus stepped over the threshold and into The Embassy of the Russian Federation.