The Becket Approval by Falconer Duncan (interesting books to read TXT) 📕

naturally wanted to know more about who I was sending you off into hostile environments with. I asked a friend at the club who’s in the MoD and has something to do with military intelligence. He only got back to me this morning. What he said was a little disturbing. Mr Gunnymede has done time.’

‘As in jail?’

‘Yes.’

‘You confirmed that?’

‘I didn’t want to go digging around in case I set any alarms off.’

‘If that was true how could he be working for MI6?’

‘Very strange indeed. Did he say why he was assigned to the case?’

‘No. If I were to guess, I’d say he wasn’t sure either.’

‘Well, don’t expect any help from his department,’ Dillon said as he walked away.

Gunnymede sat waiting in the ante-room to Harlow’s office. The secretary opened the door and served Gunnymede her usual accusing stare as he past her.

Harlow was stirring teabags in a pot. ‘Gunnymede,’ he announced. ‘Can I pour you a cup of tea? One sugar, right?’

How does he remember such details? ‘I won’t, thank you.’

‘Has Jervis been in touch?’ he asked, pouring a cup.

Odd question. ‘No – I met Simons though.’

‘Simons? You not met him before?’ Harlow sat back and sipped his tea.

‘No.’

‘Of course not. He arrived after you left for the Americas. Strange fish that one. What did he want?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Hmmm. So. Interesting time in Syria. What was your impression of Saleem?’

‘He’s the serious type.’

‘Capable?’

‘Probably. Likes his theatrics.’

‘He went to a technical college in Battersea. Quite bright. Not creative but good at replicating. This plan to attack London. It won’t be his idea but he’ll be capable of following instructions. He’ll need help of course. He won’t be able to murder the numbers he’s talking about on his own. He’s not driving a lorry through a crowded market. He’ll need support. Logistics.’

‘We came under attack when I escaped,’ Gunnymede said. ‘He may not have survived.’

‘He did survive.’

Gunnymede looked at him.

‘We had someone in that compound,’ Harlow said.

‘An operator?’

‘One of Jervis’s people.’

‘A British Muslim?’

‘Recruited in London. He was the trigger for Saleem’s desert excursions. Very useful chap.’

Gunnymede could see the young Arab’s face. ‘He must’ve been the one who helped me.’

‘How did he help you?’

‘Saved my life.’

Harlow nodded interest. ‘He missed his last proof of life. Not a good sign.’

Gunnymede was disappointed to hear that.

‘We think Saleem has left Syria anyway,’ Harlow said. ‘We’ve had a sighting in Turkey. We haven’t pinned him down but we think we can. As soon as we find him we’ll pull him.’

‘But he’s our lead to Spangle.’

‘I’m not so sure about that. He might’ve been while he was exchanging calls in Syria. We can’t risk him coming to the UK with his dastardly plan.’

Gunnymede looked sceptical. ‘I don’t buy this whole Spangle and ISIS connection. Why is Spangle talking to a bunch of Islamic fanatics?’

‘You mean why would a Russian, possibly FSB or former, have anything to do with a major ISIS terrorist attack on London?’

‘Yes, if he was working with FSB interests at heart. But Spangle isn’t. He’s a drug tsar.’

‘Who knows what drives Spangle or what palms he has to grease to get what he wants. Assume the ISIS attack is important to his interests. His greater plan.’

‘What about the Russian planes that attacked us?’

‘Coincidence perhaps. Bad luck. No one is powerful enough to protect all their interests in every theatre. Not even Spangle. At least he knows you’re back in the game.’

‘How?’

‘There’s a leak in the Baghdad embassy. Low level. Administrative stuff. We’ve known about it for some time now. It’s been quite useful really. We were going to use it to release your arrival anyway but even better that you turned up there in person.’

‘What will Spangle know?’

‘That you’re back on the payroll. He’ll put two-and-two together, match the incident in Syria with your arrival in Baghdad.’

‘Yes, but, he knows I was in jail. He’ll want to know why I’m back on the payroll.’

‘There, you got there in the end.’

Gunnymede sighed. ‘So what now?’

‘We wait and see.’

Gunnymede stared at Harlow.

‘What is it?’ Harlow asked.

‘You rarely look me in the eye anymore. You don’t trust me at all, do you?’

‘It’s disappointment, Gunnymede. I used to rate you. Now you’re just a thief. It makes no difference you didn’t steal from the Crown. Which is the constant, the thief or his principles? Surely it’s the thief. This return to work isn’t an opportunity to redeem yourself. You’re not doing us any favours. You’re saving yourself from a long stretch behind bars. You may or may not succeed.’

Gunnymede could only stare at him.

‘Mustafa Lamardi mean anything to you?’ Harlow asked.

‘Afghan National Security Director. Former. He compromised an operation and sold us out to the Taliban.’

‘How many people did we lose? One of ours and one SAS trooper?’

‘Two SAS. One of the wounded died a few months later. We could never prove it was Lamardi.’

‘But everyone knew. It was the heroin. He could be relied on when it came to tactical operations. We should’ve known he couldn’t be trusted when it came to money. You’ll be pleased to know Lamardi has paid his debt. Shot dead outside his home last week.’

‘What’s Lamardi got to do with Spangle, apart from heroin?’

‘Isn’t that enough? How was Albania?’

‘Why’d you send me there?’

‘Didn’t Aristotle tell you?’

‘I couldn’t find even a remote connection to Spangle.’

‘Keep looking. You have a good day, Gunnymede,’ Harlow said abruptly, getting back to his work.

Gunnymede got to his feet and opened the door. ‘The undercover operator in Saleem’s compound. Who was he?’

‘I’ll see what I can do. Oh, I meant to ask you. How’s Grace?’

That stopped