Prompt from sirensbane: Falling.
Falling
"Sir?"
The man behind the desk looked up from his reading and motioned his visitor to enter.
"Just got word through channels."
"What is it?"
"We've lost contact with Reardon in the Indian office. Word there is that he was killed while hunting. Nothing confirmed yet."
"Reardon? Hunting? Not likely. See what you can get out of Singapore."
"That's another problem, sir. Li Wei has been arrested along with seven of his lieutenants. The only man there I have been able to communicate with is Zhang Yong and he says he is returning to China."
"Send a message to Rogers. Tell him to get his people on the docks active. I want Zhang Yong questioned. Report back when you know something."
"Sir, that won't be possible."
"Why not?"
"Rogers is on his way to London. He was transferred to the Home Office."
"What!" The man behind the desk shot to his feet. "I gave no such order!"
"The order came from the Home Office, sir. Apparently from the man who has the ear of the Queen."
The man behind the desk dropped, pale faced, into his chair. He wiped a hand over his high brow and the oscillation of his head began, as if he were scanning tablets of data only he could see.
"That man is not active enough to have penetrated our operations in the Orient," he said after several seconds' consideration. "Learn what else you can. Compile the data. Caution our other assets. And I want to speak to Moran."
"He's at his club, sir."
"I said I want to speak to him."
"Yes sir!"
As the office door closed the man behind the desk reached for the bottle of whiskey on the shelf behind him. He had a sensation in his gut. He could not define it, but he suspected it was the same sort of sensation an oak tree might have when caught in a gale and the first of its roots snaps.
