Read Three Great Novels Online
Authors: Henry Porter
Tags: #Thrillers, #Action & Adventure, #Fiction
Three Great Novels (45 page)
‘Nonsense,’ said Vigo. ‘You must have been aware that this was the desperate act of a man who wished to cling on to power in this office. In these circumstances, you would have been quite within your rights to refuse to join this adventure, at the very least to seek advice as to its wisdom.’
‘Presumably you would have made yourself available for such a consultation?’ she said, turning on Vigo. ‘But with your record you can hardly blame me for not speaking to you.’
‘That’s enough!’ said Spelling.
‘Your relations with the arms dealer Viktor Lipnik,’ she continued, ‘and the circumstances of the attack on a plane carrying Robert Harland into Sarajevo are all well known in this Service. That’s why you were forced out. And you’re suggesting that I ask
you
about the
morality
, the
advisability
of an operation!’
you
about the
morality
, the
advisability
of an operation!’
Spelling had risen to his feet and placed both hands on the table. Cecil stopped writing and gaped at Herrick. ‘The fact of the matter, Miss Herrick,’ said Spelling, ‘is that we no longer have need of your services. You will leave this building and hand in all your passes…’
‘But I haven’t finished,’ she said. ‘You see, I don’t think you have the slightest idea what this lowlife has been up to.’
‘Perhaps it would be better if I left,’ growled Vigo.
Spelling shook his head irritably.
‘You can stay or go,’ said Herrick, relishing the dissolution of the panel facing her. ‘But nothing will stop me saying what I know.’
Spelling cast around, then said, ‘To put it in plain language, you are fired and you will remove yourself from this office forthwith. Do you understand that?’
‘I will go once I have told you about Walter Vigo, the man in whom you place such misguided trust,’ she said without a trace of emotion. ‘In collaboration with the CIA station in Tirana and the head of the local intelligence service, Marenglen, Walter Vigo conspired to mislead me and this Service about the fate of Karim Khan when he was first held in Albania. His death was faked on a mountainside so I would not pursue what was a crucial inquiry about his connections in Bosnia and Afghanistan. Further to that, he arranged for my house to be broken into and searched while he believed me to be at RAPTOR’s command centre in Northolt. Happily, the two Albanian criminals who were supplied by Marenglen did not find what they were looking for, which means I am now in a position to reveal the critical - some would say criminal - misjudgements made by Vigo in the course of Operation RAPTOR, which I emphasise came from my work at Heathrow during May.’
All six men were now standing. Spelling’s face had drained. Harry Cecil and Leppard had moved round the table to take hold of her.
‘Since you are no longer a member of this Service,’ said Spelling, ‘what you have to say is of no interest to us. You will now be escorted from the premises. Formal notice of termination will follow this day. In the meantime, I would remind you again of the very tough sanctions of the Official Secrets Act. If you choose to ignore them in the smallest way, we will come down on you so that you will live to regret it. That means certain prosecution and a custodial sentence. I trust I make myself clear. Now I have to leave.’ With this, he stalked from the room. Vigo followed at a studiously sedate pace.
Cecil and Leppard waited for a few moments while the others filed out and then without speaking, steered her to the elevator bank. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I can find my own way out.’ Nonetheless they went with her to the front desk and waited until she had retrieved her cell phone. As the security guard handed it to her it began to ring. She answered to Robin Teckman.
‘They’ve just bloody well fired me,’ she said. ‘I’m being escorted from the building by that little twerp Cecil and Leppard.’
The Chief laughed. ‘Really? Well, it happens to us all at some time or other. Now, pop yourself in a cab and come round to the Cabinet Offices. You’ll find the entrance door a little way up from Downing Street. Present yourself there in forty-five minutes. There’s a meeting I want you to be in on. Your name’s on the door. Don’t be early and don’t be late.’
Herrick put the phone in her bag and with a broad grin said, ‘Cecil, I wonder if you would be so kind as to get me a cab… for Whitehall.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Herrick presented the ID tag that Cecil and Leppard had failed to take from her and passed through the security gate of the Cabinet Office. She was met by a brisk young civil servant who introduced himself as Entwistle and asked whether it was her first time in COBRA. Only then did she understand she was to attend the same meeting as Spelling and Vigo.
‘The Prime Minister is running a little late,’ said Entwistle, ‘so Sir Robin suggested we put you on ice for fifteen minutes or so in a room next door. Is that all right?’
‘What’s this about?’ she asked.
‘I think you’re in a better position to say than I am,’ he replied, pushing at a door and gesturing towards a stairway. He dropped her off in a small, windowless basement cell where there were old magazines and brochures issued by departments of state. He returned with some coffee brimming in a utility china cup. Herrick settled down to idle her way through the property ads in
Country Life
and briefly entertained a life in some distant shire with a couple of dogs and an undemanding man who cooked.
Country Life
and briefly entertained a life in some distant shire with a couple of dogs and an undemanding man who cooked.
Forty minutes later Entwistle breezed in. ‘Rightyho, you’re on. When we go in, I will point out the seat you should take. The Prime Minister is opening the meeting with a brief preamble. If you’re not sure what to do or say, just follow Sir Robin’s lead. Okay?’
She shrugged hopelessly, unable to hazard what events had brought her from being fired an hour before to a meeting presided over by the Prime Minister. They moved along a carpeted corridor and came across a huddle of men and women, all in their early thirties, who Entwistle said were the staff of the Civil Contingencies Secretariat who would be swinging into action once the COBRA meeting was over. He reached a pair of doors, looked round and said, ‘Okay?’ again. She nodded.
He opened one of the two doors and she found herself propelled into a large white room with a low ceiling and somewhat harsh lighting. There were no pictures or other adornments. Seated at the centre of a long table was the Prime Minister with his shirt-sleeves rolled up, displaying a weekend tan. On his right was the Foreign Secretary, hunched over a pile of papers; on his left was the Home Secretary, who was the only one of the three to notice her entrance. Enwistle pointed to a seat two away from Sir Robin Teckman, four places from Richard Spelling and Walter Vigo, neither of whom acknowledged her. The remaining chairs were taken by the Director of the Security Services, Barbara Markham, members of the Joint Intelligence Committee and Ian Frayne, Intelligence Coordinator in the Cabinet Office, who had originally been head of Security and Public Affairs at Vauxhall Cross when Herrick was a trainee. He flashed her a welcoming nod.
‘So I stress,’ said the Prime Minister, ‘I have not convened the Civil Emergencies Committee lightly. Overnight I have been given information which cast Operation RAPTOR in a very different light, and makes me doubt the value of the way it was set out in the wake of the assassination of Vice-Admiral Norquist. Clearly these faults must be rectified before I speak to the President this afternoon. I hesitate to call it a misjudgement until the internal inquiry has reported, but I do emphasise at the outset this morning that I am concerned that RAPTOR is being run without full recognition of the risks and dangers that we face at every hour of the day. We may have to consider that it is flawed in its very concept.’
There was a slight murmur around the room, a shuffling of papers, the almost perceptible adjustment of each person’s position.
‘Now, this committee’s brief is not to take over the business of our Secret Intelligence Service, but I do intend to get to the bottom of what is happening and make my dispositions accordingly. I wonder if I could begin with you, Richard, as the Chief of SIS designate?’
Everyone noticed the stress on the last word. ‘Well, Prime Minister.’ Spelling’s eyes swept confidently around the room, rallying support which, in the downward glances and blank expressions, was evidently less forthcoming than he had expected. ‘I first of all want to draw the attention of the committee to the immensely detailed understanding we now have of the men who passed through Heathrow on May fourteen. There has never been an operation like this. This is the cutting edge of surveillance and both the United States and UK governments have benefited hugely from our ability to watch these men and monitor every move they make, at the same time as studying their backgrounds, psychological profiles, associates, support systems and financial backing. It is a triumph of modern intelligence gathering and it has greatly increased our knowledge of Islamist groups. Besides this, the risks of this
in vitro
experiment are minimal, because each man is covered by a squad of no less than six highly trained and armed personnel. The suspects are already virtually handcuffed.’
in vitro
experiment are minimal, because each man is covered by a squad of no less than six highly trained and armed personnel. The suspects are already virtually handcuffed.’
‘That’s very reassuring, Richard,’ said the Prime Minister, with a slightly pained expression, ‘but I’ve heard all this before. It seems to me and my two Cabinet colleagues that Sir Robin’s new information does call RAPTOR into question, particularly the value of what one paper I have received from the Joint Intelligence Committee notes as its “unyielding and exclusive focus”.’
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘but Prime Minister, these were the terms that our American partners insisted upon.’
The Prime Minister’s gaze traversed the table and alighted on Teckman. ‘Sir Robin, perhaps you would like to go over the material you brought to me on Friday evening?’
Teckman began to speak quietly, so that the people at the furthest extremes of the room had to lean forward to catch what he was saying. Herrick smiled to herself. This was always his method of drawing people towards his argument.
‘While I don’t want in any way to undervalue the efforts made by the men and women of RAPTOR, over the last forty-eight hours we have made certain discoveries about the nature of the terrorist threat to the West, the possibility of which has largely been neglected.’ He stopped and glanced in Herrick’s direction. ‘Few of you will be aware that a key figure in this has been my colleague, Isis Herrick. She was first responsible for establishing what happened at Heathrow on May fourteen and subsequently worked with RAPTOR. Now she has brought crucial intelligence from Egypt. Even she is unaware of what she conveyed to us by satellite phone late last week.’
The faces around the table, including the Prime Minister’s, began to examine her with interest. She acknowledged his compliment with a nod, inwardly wondering what on earth was in the recording that she had overlooked, then remembered that she had only managed to listen to a small portion of it. After that she had been fighting off Loz in the bath-house.
‘The part I am going to play you was of exceptionally poor quality and has been rescued by extensive work by GCHQ technicians.’ He placed a briefcase on the table and unzipped it. Inside was a large tape player. ‘Here we go,’ he said, pressing the play button with the uncertainty of someone unused to electrical equipment.
There was a rustling noise, which Herrick recognised as coming from the dead leaves on a vine outside the window in Khan’s room, followed by silence. You could hear a pin drop in the bomb-proof underground chamber, as the eyes of each person came to rest on the spools of the tape recorder.
Then came a voice - a whisper floating on the breeze that had now audibly taken hold of a cloth hung in front of the window, though only Herrick could possibly have seen this in her mind.
‘She is a devil that girl - no?’
‘That is Dr Sammi Loz,’ said the Chief. ‘The important part is coming up now.’ He turned up the volume control.
‘She thinks she is clever. And she is. She is catching us out all the time. You Karim, she plays with you. But we play with her also. We wait. And we let her think she is so fucking smart. Eleven days. That’s all we have to wait for.
Inshallah
.’
Inshallah
.’
There was silence, then a sigh from the bed. ‘What are you doing, Sammi? What do you plan?’
‘This is not for your ears, old friend. But it’s good, very good. Months of planning and we have fooled them like children.
Al kufr milatun wahidun
- right, Karim?’
Al kufr milatun wahidun
- right, Karim?’
Teckman stopped the tape. ‘That is an Arabic phrase which translates as “unbelief is one nation”. It’s a well-known Hadith among Islamist groups, and expresses the view that all non-Muslims are the enemy of Islam. They both knew this phrase. I understand from the Director of the CIA whom I spoke to last night, that one of the postcards sent by Khan to Sammi Loz at the Empire State building contains a crude rendering of the same phrase in code. However, I should stress that we do not believe Karim Khan knew of Loz’s intentions and that the presence of this code is not significant. However, he did represent a considerable danger to Loz, which is why we believe Loz eventually had to kill him - hours before the strike. The clue to the nature of the threat comes now. Khan is speaking.’
He pressed the play button again and turned up the volume. The room was filled with a buzz of static and then the single word ‘Yahya’ was spoken by Khan.
It came again. ‘Yah-ya.’ Slow and deliberate.
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