THE NEW RECRUIT
Chapter 7
After what seems like an eternity of entertaining elderly relatives, I have finally been able to finish off typing up chapter 7 of New Recruit. I hope that you have not totally forgotten the thread of the plot - I know I certainly have and I was more than usually confused trying to keep tabs on who was saying what about whom and why!! If I can work my way through this morass, our heroes should be battling to save our little island with their customary valour in the next week - I have already written the final chapter (the Bridget Jones mini-break for H & R) but there is still an unwritten yawning gap of plot inbetween so please be patient.
The Grid
Harry hurried through the pods to be greeted by a succession of pale but determined faces. The toll of the last 48 hours was beginning to tell, even on the youngest and fittest. Ruth hovered in the background; greeting him with a warm, if diffident smile; her brow creased in concern at his haggard features and worried expression. They all knew that the stakes were high and the prospect of combating the current threat without further loss of life, by no means secure; yet no matter how grim a situation, they always looked to Harry for wisdom and security, almost as a talisman: as someone who would turn the tide of events and see them through once more into calm waters. The burden of responsibility was beginning however, to extort an unacceptable price from Harry. He was continuously under extreme pressure: to fight for the autonomy and well being of his department; to maintain discipline and focus in his team; to make difficult decisions in life-threatening situations; to face crisis after crisis, seek solutions and live with the consequences when those solutions proved fatal to members of his team or to the general public. Far too great a burden to place on anyone's shoulders, too great a stress to achieve results day in day out and not crack under the strain. Adam had chastised Harry only the week before that he was overdoing it and would collapse.
"No one is irreplaceable Adam. If this old carthorse drops between the shafts then you can call the knacker's yard and bring on a new beast of burden to take my place."
His team knew however, that whilst it was true that everyone was replaceable, it was not true that it would be easy to find someone to fill Harry Pearce's shoes.
"Right. I've got to take a call from the Home Secretary and then at 10 the JIC wants briefing, so we will have to be swift with our discussions this morning. I'll see you in the meeting room in 15 minutes. Please be ready with your reports and succinct."
Harry disappeared into his office and shut the door just as Catherine Palmerston arrived on the Grid. She walked purposefully up to Ruth:
"I believe you're the nearest thing Harry has to a secretary Ruth, would you be a dear and give him this – I found I was still wearing it last night when I got home."
Catherine dropped a plastic carrier bag on Ruth's desk and sauntered off. Ruth reached out and deposited the bag down by her feet. She could see Catherine Palmerston was watching her from across the room and she had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of a response, although inwardly her stomach was churning over. Whatever was in the bag was intended to incriminate Harry in some sordid tryst with Catherine and to elicit a reaction in her. Well Catherine Palmerston could go whistle – even if the bag contained used condoms and photos of Harry tied naked to the bed with Catherine in full S & M gear, she was determined not to show any response.
With an impassive expression on her pale face Ruth went on scrutinising the screen in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye she also watched Harry in his office and when she saw him put the phone down she quickly rose and picking up the bag as though it contained a venomous snake, carried it through into his office.
"Er, Catherine asked me to give you this. She, er, seems to be under the impression that I moonlight as your PA and er, I don't know what's in there but you might not want to reveal it in public."
Harry scowled in annoyance and looked briefly in the carrier bag before throwing it across the room in obvious bad temper.
"Thank you Ruth, but you don't have to play junior office clerk for Catherine Palmerston."
"Oh I know, but I didn't want you to be embarrassed, you know, in front of the others; er, not that I'm suggesting it could be anything embarrassing of course, it's just you know, being Catherine ……."
Ruth's voice faltered as thoughts of what might have transpired the previous night to create a potential connection between Harry and Catherine Palmerston filled her mind.
"I'd better go."
"No. Please. Sit down Ruth. I need your advice."
Harry gestured to Ruth to sit in his chair whilst he perched on the desk facing her with his back to the Grid.
"When I finally got home last night, Catherine had somehow let herself into my house and prepared a midnight feast with herself as the main item on the menu. She was dressed in my shirt" Harry gestured dismissively over to the carrier bag tangled up in the bin where it had landed "and nothing else."
The obvious question that was burning on Ruth's tongue but which she dare not ask:
"What did you do?" hung in the air between them.
"What the hell am I going to do with her Ruth? Adam thinks I should kick her out, but she's a useful asset at the moment whilst we're stretched to the limit and quite frankly I have neither the time nor the energy to be concerned with sorting out Catherine Palmerston. Any suggestions for an effective way of reining her in?"
"I don't know Harry. Perhaps if you ignore her?"
"Ignoring her is what led to her breaking into my house and trying to seduce me."
"Did she succeed?" The question came out without thinking. Ruth's hand flew to cover her mouth.
"No Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. It's none of my business."
"Yes it is your business Ruth and no I didn't. It's not Catherine Palmerston I want to sleep with."
It was Harry's turn to look embarrassed and realise he had overstepped the mark. Ruth blushed and avoided his eyes. It was a moment that invited a frank exchange but she decided to let the opportunity to openly express their feelings pass them by – this was not the time or the place to step over the boundaries: in the middle of a crisis and in full view of the rest of the Grid.
"Well I presume that Catherine is being persistent either because she doesn't appreciate her will being thwarted or because she doesn't want to damage her reputation as a man-eater or perhaps both."
Harry smiled tersely
"Man-eater? That's a very old-fashioned term Ruth."
"Can you think of a better one? Anyway, other than actually focusing on the operation, maybe what Catherine needs is a new target."?
"Well, as I don't flatter myself that she is attracted to my body, I presume she is after seniority and influence; so we will have to look higher up the food chain to attract her. Who do you have in mind Ruth?"
This was said with a definite twinkle in the eye as Harry reflected on the absurdity of a Section Head of MI5 and his senior analyst pooling resources to deflect the attentions of one troublesome, over-ambitious nymphomaniac.
"I have no actual suggestions at the moment Harry. I'm actually not that well acquainted with the love lives of the higher echelons of the British Security Establishment but I'll make some discreet enquiries when I get the time and I'll get back to you."
"Thanks and in the meantime I'll send Christine Keeler on tasks that will make better use of her undoubted talents."
Ruth smiled in acknowledgement of their collusion and went out of the office and crossed the Grid towards the meeting room.
She was half way across when she was waylaid by Catherine Palmerston.
"I see you gave Harry the bag. Very efficient of you. What did he say?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? He took long enough to say nothing!"
"I mean he didn't talk about it."
"Well what was he talking about?"
Catherine was like a dog worrying a bone and Ruth could see she was not going to stonewall her.
"We were discussing operational strategy. Now if you'll excuse one Catherine, we've got to start this meeting. Harry is due at the JIC in just over an hour."
Catherine Palmerston watched Ruth's retreating figure with dislike and muttered to herself:
"Yes, you trot off like an obedient little secretary, Moneypenny; but you'll never keep a man like Harry Pearce with your mealy-mouthed, repressive attitude – he needs fun and passion and eroticism – he needs me. He just hasn't realised it yet."
Smiling in satisfaction at the logic of her deduction Catherine threw a triumphant feline glance at Harry as he overtook her and quickened her pace so that she accidentally-on-purpose was forced to squeeze through the door with him, her hips momentarily thrust into his groin as her legs became tangled between his, but for too brief a time to be accused of sexually provoking him. Harry groaned inwardly. He had no intention of allowing Catherine Palmerston to seduce him, but he could not deny that the sensation of being rubbed and squeezed was very tantalising after the dreams he had experienced the night before. He really should have taken the time to deal with that before he left his house – it would have considerably aided the battle of mind over matter that was being waged in his body at that moment. The last thing he needed was to have to try and make serous decisions on matters of national security with a throbbing frustrated erection twitching in his trousers. He would wring that bloody woman's neck before the day was over; of all the stupid, self-obsessed, shallow creatures …. "
Exasperated, Harry flung himself into his chair and glowered at the assembled operatives.
"Right. We've got precisely 30 minutes. I want a run-down summary from each of you. Adam you start."
Adam despite the dark shadows under his eyes looked focused and determined.
"I've been over at 6 sharing croissants and lattes this morning. Word is, there are whisperings in darkened corridors, but no specific names or the nature of the conspiracy. Some of the senior operatives are involved in this current crisis but which fingers are in which pies and for what reasons, no one knew or at least was not telling."
"Oh my prophetic soul! We're facing one of the most serious of crises in recent times and our fellow defenders have decided to form their own axis of evil. But why?"
"Well that's the key question Harry. Until that is clarified we have no means of knowing what 6's agenda is or if they are directly implicated in any way or are simply playing games to further their own aims."
"Oh you can be sure Adam it will not be for anyone else's benefit and certainly not ours."
Harry turned to Catherine with a quizzical expression
"There's nothing you would like to share with us at this point is there Catherine?"
"If you mean in relation to my colleagues at Vauxhall Cross, no I have no inkling of what Adam is talking about nor do I personally give any credence to the suggestion that MI6 is cohorting with terrorists. It's ludicrous – what would they gain from it? You may have a paranoid suspicion of 6 Harry, but even you cannot seriously accept such a preposterous idea."
Harry narrowed his eyes and replied in an even tone
"If there's one thing I've learnt over the years Catherine, it's to believe anything of anyone. The old adage 'trust in God but keep your powder dry' is nowhere more appropriate than dealing with our sister services; but be that as it may, how did you and Jo get on with Prince Hassim?"
"Oh like a Casino on fire, he was a sweetie."
Jo looked at her with incredulity
"Well he might be your idea of a sweetie but I thought he was a lecherous chauvinist pig."
Catherine sneered back at her
"You can't be petty bourgeois if you're going to make a career in this profession – I know a good sex therapist if you need help overcoming your inhibitions."
Jo opened her mouth to reply but Harry interrupted her
"Let's just focus on what you got out of him shall we? The clock's ticking."
"Er yes, well, he was happy to boast that he was involved in big deals with dangerous men but I think it was just all bluster – he might well know who has supplied the weapons however. He wants to be seen as mad, bad and dangerous to know and will have his finger on the pulse as much as he can. I've got an interesting portfolio of photographs for him to look at and although the light was a little unflattering I'm sure he still wouldn't want his father getting hold of them, so I should find out more from him later. I left my phone under his bed, so I'll be paying him a visit to retrieve it at 10 and oh yes, I won't need backup from Goldilocks this time, I'm sure you've got some files that need sorting Ruth?"
"I'll settle the allocation of my staff thank you Catherine. Zaf, how did you get on with forensics?"
"They've identified all the bodies in the reception room. Not surprisingly none were of the three consulate officials – there were four Buckingham Palace staff, two Special Branch officers and a journalist who had sneaked in to take exclusive shots of the delegates and appears to have been hiding in an adjacent storage room and was crushed by a collapsing wall. Er, in terms of the explosives, the main damage was caused by rockets and there is enough fragmentary evidence to suggest they are similar to those being currently used on both sides in the Gaza strip. There are a depressingly large number of possible suppliers of such weapons they come from a number of sources in the former Soviet Union and the Far East and are easily obtained all over the Middle East and Eastern Europe."
"How much expertise is needed to launch them?"
"A fair degree of specialist knowledge, but they use satellite guidance systems, so anyone with a grasp of basic electronics can be taught to use them without difficulty."
"I don't know what's more frightening" said Ruth vehemently "the thought of extremists with specialist skills loose in London with rocket launchers or some random geek with a grievance and 10 evening classes in how to launch your own Armageddon wandering around the streets looking for targets."
"Well specialist or not the targets are certainly not random. Malcolm, what security measures are in place for the Conference Meeting?"
"Well Special Branch have recommended relocating one hour before the meeting is due to convene, to minimise security leaks; but this is presuming of course that there is a meeting – many of the delegates are pretty windy about the whole business and there is a growing consensus that the talks should abandoned."
"But that's ridiculous, it's just playing into the hands of the terrorists."
"Well maybe, Harry, but if you feel that you're walking around with a bulls eye painted on your back it's difficult not to panic. They're not profession soldiers after all."
"No but they do represent the role of law, politics is not simply about champagne breakfasts and chauffeur driven limousines, it's also about obligations and leading by example. If they don't have backbones then they are going to have to grow some. These talks must continue or the next time any sort of meeting is held in London it will be like declaring the Grouse Season open for every extremist with a grudge the length and breadth of the land. I'll have words with the Home Secretary, see if he can rouse a little more esprit de corps; but in the meantime make sure that each delegate is made aware that anyone leaving the talks will be photographed and their action reported in the international press."
Harry's eyes swivelled towards Ruth
"Any developments in linking Jafar with other UK cells?"
"Not Jafar, but I have made headway with the three posing as Embassy officials. The two Pakistanis have been identified by Special Branch as being involved in a drug trafficking ring based in the Isle of Dogs that was busted by the Met's drug division six months ago."
Ruth put up juxtaposed candid shots of two nondescript men of Middle Eastern appearance.
"The ring was smuggling heroin out of Afghanistan into Kashmir where it was hidden in the luggage of specialist tours that operate from the UK."
"Why didn't they get caught on routine border inspections?" enquired Zaf.
"Because the tours were for OAP's and the officials in Kashmir probably didn't think they posed a viable threat and in any case were probably bribed. Anyway the tourists would travel with their luggage overland by train to Jaipur and then Bombay where they would join a cruise through the Suez Canal and into the Mediterranean. A number of the gang would be on board the cruise ship and take possession of the bags containing the shipment and would slip away from the ship at a stopping point before Southampton, probably Lisbon. It was only when one of the bags was muddled up and a consignment of high grade heroin ended up being discovered in the luggage of an eighty-two year old retired professor that the ring was uncovered."
"So this same ring could have been used to smuggle in rockets?"
"Precisely" said Ruth with a triumphant gleam in her eye."
"Yes" said Harry slowly and deliberately "that would certainly fit in with what Bela Stanavlaski was telling me last night about weapon routes in and out of Marseilles and presumably they would bring shipments in by boat from the French coast? But the question is how our heroin peddlers are connected to Jafar?"
"Well, drug trafficking out of Afghanistan is an established source of revenue for Al Qaeda, so they could either be Al Qaeda members acting as drug traffickers or drug traffickers acting as couriers for Al Qaeda, but either way the possibilities for contact between them and Jafar are numerous."
"OK, what about the third official does he tie in with the two Pakistanis and Jafar?"
"Yes well the Iraqi he's a different kettle of fish. His name's Mustafa Zahir Shah, a Sunni and one of Saddam's political advisors. He disappeared after Baghdad fell. His immediate family: mother, wife and two young children were killed in a sectarian mortar attack on their neighbourhood. Mustafa vanished and it was thought he had fled across the border into Syria. Then a year ago he surfaced in Algiers and was reported to be part of an Al Qaeda cell that was blowing up public buildings. He was caught on CCTV shortly before one explosion but was never apprehended. Now he's turned up in London. He could be known to Jafar from the North African connection or any one of a number of Middle Eastern links. What is certain is that he's ruthless, dangerous and with a bitter grudge against the West, with I have to say some justification."
"Right. So we have two senior Al Qaeda operatives at large in London with an arsenal of sophisticated rockets and other weaponry and two willing if not experienced helpers. So the questions are these: is this the extent of our cell? And what do we have to do to locate and neutralise it?"
"Well, it's impossible to say for certain that they don't have help from sympathisers, at least in terms of the provision of safe houses, intelligence support, transport and so on, but I haven't been able to identify any direct link with other groups and given that Al Qaeda like to operate in small, autonomous cells, it's possible it is just those four. The fewer involved the less likely there is to be a security breach."
"So Adam, to the second question. How do we go about finding and eliminating these bastards before they cause further serious loss of life?"
"Well, we won't find them with conventional surveillance. We don't know their whereabouts or their contacts and they will stay well away from any cameras, so the only option is to bait a trap."
"So who will be the bait?"
"The Commonwealth delegates. We'll give the group what they want and then catch them when they try and attack."
"Let me get this straight Adam. You are suggesting that we put at risk the lives of approximately 70 Heads of State and foreign ministers in the tenuous hope that we can forestall any planned atrocity before it can be carried out and what if we fail to stop such an attack that we had colluded to? I'm sorry but the Home Secretary would never sanction it. In fact I don't think I would sanction it."
"It's the only option we've got Harry. Think about it. The media reports that the delegates are bravely going to continue talks at a secluded location – I don't know, Chequers, Grassington Hall, anywhere contained where we can more readily identify and track the movement and launching of rockets away from a dense population area. The delegates' limousines arrive; they enter the building and are immediately escorted through to waiting vans and driven away from the premises to a secure alternative venue for the talks. The security forces monitor for lock-on signals, locate and disarm the rockets and neutralise the threat."
Catherine Palmerston shook her head in disbelief " You've been watching too many James Bond films Adam. I've heard reports that you take risks but this is absolutely reckless. Wake up, this is the real world not some la-la land where Biggles Carter flies in and saves the day."
Adam turned angrily on Catherine
"And I've heard reports that when you were not on your back in the service of your country you were sleeping your way through the ranks of 6 in the hope of securing the greater good of Catherine Palmerston, so why exactly am I meant to value the opinion of 6's answer to Mata Hari?"
Harry intervened " These personal attacks are unprofessional and a waste of valuable time the pair of you focus on the discussion or you will both be out on your ear. Adam your plan is bold but it has two serious flaws. What makes you think that an operative of Jafar's experience will fall for such a ruse? And how do you intend to remove the delegates without arousing suspicion? If the Iraqi is as well connected as Ruth suggests then he as well as Jafar will have access to sophisticated monitoring equipment, they are not going to be fooled by some magic circle legerdemain with the delegates."
"I think it's do-able, risky yes, but do-able and what choice do we have Harry? The only hope we have of nailing Jafar is to entrap him and if we don't catch them there are going to be more attacks and more loss of life, possibly on a horrific scale."
Harry frowned and rubbed his hand down his face, dragging his fingers slowly over his soft cheeks.
"Ok, but you make damned sure those delegates are not put in any unnecessary danger. Wiping out half the Commonwealth Heads of State whilst in our care is not something any of us want on our CV's. Right. I've got to be in Whitehall in ten minutes so this meeting is finished. Report back to me any developments. Adam, you stay and take charge of the Grid and liase with Special Branch over the relocation of the Commonwealth meeting. The subsequent removal of the delegates is on a strictly need-to-know basis - as far as the remaining security services are concerned Grassington Hall will be the real venue. I'll inform the Home Secretary of what we are proposing and get his clearance. The prospect of again being a target for a rocket attack should finish off what is left of the PM's self control so I'm not promising this will be approved."
"It has to be Harry, we have to stop these people if we are to avert major carnage in central London."
Just as Harry was pulling on his coat to go down to his waiting car Ruth slipped into his room.
"Harry."
"Whatever it is, not now Ruth, I've got seconds to spare."
"It's important Harry."
"Alright. What?"
"When I contacted my friend in C Division to clarify about security measures I picked up a rumour that the DG is going to resign."
"And? If you think I'm going to need further coaching Ruth forget it; being grilled once by you, never mind the appointment committee, was more than enough. I don't intend to repeat the exercise."
"Er, no Harry. Not that I don't think you'd be good at the job; no the rumour is that the PM is very keen to appoint an outsider."
"An outsider? As in one of his lickspittle tame officials or outsider as in Clement Attlee appointing a policeman to the job in 1945 and paralysing the whole Security Force as a result?"
"Er, well someone who will be loyal to his interests and certainly hands-on experience is not a priority. He's been heard to express the opinion that someone with a more detached viewpoint could be beneficial."
Harry groaned and wearily pulled his hand down over his soft pliant features.
"Wonderful. We face a major terrorist threat from a still unconfirmed number of individuals, possibly with the complicity of part of the security forces for God knows what reason and now you're telling me the PM wants to appoint one of his aphasic caballers to take charge of this snake-pit of intrigue. That's what the country needs – another incompetent, self-serving politician given authority over a vital area of National Security. It's enough to make you despair of democracy – come back Louis XIV all is forgiven."
"I would have thought it was the PM's sense of aggrandisement and self importance that lead to this idea in the first place Harry, so perhaps another Sun King is the last thing we need just at the moment."
"Well, whatever the PM's motivation this is just going to have to wait. But thanks Ruth, hopefully a positive result in this present crisis will give us some bargaining power to try and bury that particular plan for empire building."
As he said this Harry moved past Ruth, planting a chaste kiss on her cheek as he opened the door. The touch of his hand on her arm and the sensation of his lips brushing her skin made Ruth's heart rate accelerate rapidly and her eyes locked onto his with a steadfast, penetrating gaze. In a low, breathless voice she murmured
"You're late Harry, you have to go."
Yet still he hesitated, his hand on the door handle, transfixed by the beauty of her eyes and the blend of passion and intelligence revealed in their expression. The ghost of a Mona Lisa smile at the corners of her mouth was acknowledged by a softening of his own expression, the frown lines in his forehead smoothed by the smile that fleetingly suffused his features.
"Yes. Meetings to sit in, threats to neutralise. A Section Head's work is never done and yet all I want at this moment Ruth is to sit by the sea with you in my arms and watch the sun go down."
"Uneasy sits the head that wears the crown, I'm afraid Harry. A personal life is not a luxury that spooks can afford to indulge in very often as you keep telling us; but I appreciate the thought. Now get going before the Home Secretary is ordered to find a new Section Head as well as a DG."
Harry sprang out of his office and marched across the Grid.
"Any developments Adam red flash me. I should be back within the hour."
Harry looked the epitome of authority and efficiency as he exited through the pods, but his mind was far from being focused on the imminent meeting at Whitehall. His imagination had rebelled against self-control and was sensually kissing Ruth and slipping his hands under her clothes, caressing her bare skin as she lay back between his knees facing out over alternative views of craggy Cornwall and picturesque Portofino. Obviously not content with these fantasies his conscious brain was suddenly beguiled with his re-occurring dream of Ruth leading him up the stairs into his bedroom at home and starting to undress him. Harry shook himself mentally
"For God's sake get a grip – you're going to need all your wits about you in the next 24 hours, biological urges and emotional desires are just going to have to wait."
Ignoring the physical signs that his subconscious had other ideas, Harry jumped briskly into his car and was whisked away in a discreet purr of the 4 litre Lexus.