How to Betray Your Country by James Wolff (spicy books to read .TXT) 📕

and he watches as in one powerful motion the vizier pulls himself on board, and then he is gone, finally swallowed by the darkness.

PART THREECoercion

You might have ruined everything. Jesus Christ, Youssef. What on earth were you thinking?

What do you mean? Actually it went very well. As we agreed, I told him —

This is what I mean. Listen to this bit again. Perhaps you will not be able to help me, my friend. But I remember meeting you at the office of Miss Beatrice and I understood immediately that you are a kind and helpful man. I also know that you are a senior diplomat and would not dirty your hands with the business of spying. But I do not know who to speak to about this very sensitive matter. You’re not trying to sell him a car, Youssef. If you flatter him this crudely, he’s going to realize you’ve got an ulterior motive. There’s no way anyone in their right mind would call Lawrence “kind and helpful”, let alone a “senior diplomat”. And don’t say “my friend” to him – he’s an Englishman, we don’t even say things like that to people we’ve known our whole lives. And what’s this about him helping you? It’s the other way around, we discussed this, you’re the one who’s going —

August, I think you should rest. Have you slept at all? It is not good for you to become so excited, so soon after what happened in that house. Remember that we do not have to do it this way. There are other ways to find out where my wife is. Perhaps they will take longer —

My way will work, Youssef, but you’ve got to do exactly what I tell you to do.

I am telling you, the meeting was a success. Mr Lawrence was very happy indeed when we finished talking. He asked for my phone number and said that he will call me —

What you’ve got to understand is that he’s one of those spies who’s in love with the idea of spying. I knew someone in London who took him along to an agent meeting, and on the way back to the office Lawrence insisted on ducking into an alleyway to burn his handwritten notes. It made no sense. In fact, it probably drew attention to him. But bending over the papers, striking a match, watching the words crumble into ash and disappear – I suspect he’d never felt more alive than he did at that moment. He’s the sort of person who checks every night that he isn’t being followed home. Do you know what I mean? In his conversations with you, he wants to think that he’s acting as puppet master, that he’s manoeuvring you from a place of mistrust to one in which you see him as your closest confidant. He wants to think that he’s practising a mysterious and ancient craft, like a Druid. Trust me, that’s the key to this: allow him to think he’s a druid and you’ll be able to lead him wherever you —

August, you need to calm down. I really do not know what you are talking about. Can I open a window in here? I do not think this is good for you. I told you, he was very interested in our story —

Are you sure this phone was hidden from sight?

What? It was in my jacket —

You didn’t wear that tie, did you?

What is wrong with this tie?

I told you not to wear it, Youssef. Those aren’t ordinary rabbits. It makes you look dishonest —

My daughter gave this —

I’m telling you, they’re not ordinary rabbits.

August, you are speaking very loudly. You really must rest. Look, I brought you food. Please eat something.

Did you bring anything to drink?

Shall I change these bandages? Can I open a window in here?

Let’s get back to work.

When can I ask Mr Lawrence about my wife and daughter?

Not yet. We’ve got to convince him that you’ve got access to real intelligence of value, plant the idea that the most important thing to you is your family and let him come up with the idea himself. Now let’s go through the recording again. What exactly was the expression on his face when you first mentioned Daesh and the emir?

• • • •

VESTIBULE/001

top secret

foia exempt

from:ATY4to:C14B1subject:New intelligence lead in Istanbuldate:17 December 2016

Freddy —

Brace yourself: I’m about to fire both barrels of the intelligence blunderbuss in your general direction to ensure that I get everything down in one blast. Let’s have a chat first thing tomorrow morning, pick out the choice pieces of birdshot from your flabby arse and agree a way forward. I’m keen that my report lands on the desks of seniors in London a) quickly b) with either (i) a red flag waving atop it or (ii) an accompanying fanfare c) in an appropriately lean form (we know how they hate fat – poor you) and d) with my name front and centre. I make no apologies for d). If you even think of sharing this with Sally Barber and her four thieves at this early stage I’ll be firing both barrels of a real blunderbuss in your very specific direction.

We had a walk-in this afternoon. It was someone I’d met briefly before, a Syrian national called Youssef HADDAD (p/d.o.b. Homs, 17/9/1980) who happened to be interviewing for a job with Beatrice at Endgame Consulting when I was there recently. We exchanged a few words on that occasion. He didn’t make a hugely positive impression, to be honest with you. He came across as a trifle slippery, desperate for work, falling over himself to be friendly. You know the sort. Sports a rather bizarre tie festooned with Playboy bunnies. Plenty of red flags, in terms of his character – if it wasn’t for the fact that he was clearly so hesitant this afternoon about passing high-grade intelligence to a British official. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

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