Authors: Stella Rimington

Close Call (38 page)

Would she ever stop missing Martin? Even now she could only feel heartbreakingly alone in a world without him. His death had served some purpose, she knew. Had he not succeeded in flushing out Ramdani the terrorist would have warned his colleagues bound for England that they were blown. They would have melted away and Liz would still be searching for half a dozen lethal men. She couldn’t make room for the thought that this was any kind of compensation for Martin’s death – it wasn’t – but at least it gave some meaning to it. He had been dedicated and professional to the end, and Martin would have been the first to scoff at any suggestion that he should have hesitated to act because of possible danger. He knew, just as Liz knew, that risk came with the job.

A knock on the open door of her office shook Liz from her reverie. ‘Come in,’ she said.

It was Geoffrey Fane, and for once he actually looked friendly, almost shy. ‘Elizabeth,’ he said awkwardly.

Liz smiled to herself. There was no point in getting cross; he really couldn’t help it. ‘Hello, Geoffrey,’ she said. ‘I actually do prefer Liz, you know.’

‘Of course,’ he said, coming into the room. Liz went back to her desk and sat down, motioning Fane to a chair. But he shook his head; unusually for him, he seemed to understand that his presence might not be entirely welcome. ‘I just wanted to say how very sorry I was to hear about Martin Seurat. I know you two were close.’ He paused, as if hearing his words and how lame they sounded.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply.

He gave a little cough. ‘I gather you did stellar work up in Manchester.’

‘It’s kind of you to say that. A lot of things didn’t go right.’

‘Possibly, but when do they ever? And you did prevent the very worst happening. Well done.’

Is this why Fane had come? Liz wondered. Gentle commiseration followed by a pat on the back? She’d known him long enough to know there had to be some other agenda.

And so there was. Fane came right into the room now, sat down, straightened his long back and crossed a languid leg over one knee. This was the Geoffrey Fane she knew. She watched him warily, waiting for what was to come. He said, ‘I’ve got a bit of news actually.’

‘Really?’ She tried to look surprised.

‘I had a meeting with our friend Andy Bokus yesterday. Not an altogether happy encounter, you could say. I pointed out that there was a missing link in this case, one that would have helped us a lot.’

‘Baakrime.’

‘That’s right. The Minister,’ Fane said, with the mild surprise he always showed when he found that Liz had got there too. ‘He was both the instigator and the linchpin of this whole affair.’

‘But currently unavailable.’

‘So it would seem. Thanks to American cack-handedness. When they shilly-shallied he must have panicked and decided to throw in his lot with the Russians.’

‘You said that to Bokus again?’

‘In so many words.’

‘That couldn’t have gone down well.’

Fane gave a sly smile. Liz could see he was enjoying himself now.

‘Actually, he had bigger things to worry about.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. It seems he’s being moved on. Back to Langley.’

‘I’d have thought he’d be pleased. Bokus never liked it here.’

‘That’s true. Or at least he never liked
us
– or to be even more precise,
me
.’ Fane’s grin now could only be described as wicked. ‘But from his account, it sounded as if he was leaving under something of a cloud. No trumpets at the Langley gates when Andy reappears.’

‘But what’s he done wrong?’

‘He’s being blamed for Baakrime’s disappearance.’

‘Really? It was Miles Brookhaven out in Sana’a who was running Baakrime.’

‘Ah, but it was Bokus who was giving him the line to take and Bokus who was pushing Miles to squeeze Baakrime.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Liz dubiously.

‘And that’s what provides the delicious irony – and what I suppose must gall Bokus the most.’

He paused, savouring his position as the fount of high-end gossip. Go on, spill the beans, Liz thought to herself, but she hesitated, knowing that Fane was longing to be asked. Finally curiosity prevailed. ‘What delicious irony, Geoffrey?’

Pleased to be asked at last, Fane said, ‘You see, they’ve already named the new Station Head for London. Usually, there’s just the slightest lag – out of courtesy to the departing Head. Not this time.’

‘Who is it?’ But Fane was now laughing too hard to reply. ‘Come on, Geoffrey, what’s so funny?’

And at last he managed to croak, ‘Miles Brookhaven.’

Liz stared at Fane, wondering if he was pulling her leg. It seemed too improbable to credit, until one looked at its natural symmetry. It was Miles who had first relayed the tip that arms were being sent to the UK, and Miles who had triggered the convoluted sequence of events that had ended – thank God – in a failed conspiracy to kill countless numbers of people.

So Miles’s return to the UK somehow seemed entirely fitting. It was this – as well as the thought that she quite liked Miles, and was curious to learn what he was like after several years away – that meant Liz was glad to hear the news. Glad enough in fact to join Geoffrey Fane and find herself laughing too.

A Note on the Author

Dame Stella Rimington joined the Security Service (MI5) in 1968. During her career she worked in all the main fields of the Service: counter-subversion, counter-espionage and counter-terrorism. She was appointed Director–General in 1992, the first woman to hold the post. She has written her autobiography and eight Liz Carlyle novels. She lives in London and Norfolk.

By the Same Author

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‘Rimington’s best work demonstrates a flair for narrative, with a sense of authenticity and an insider's grasp on the pressing issues of the day’

Washington Post

‘
Rip Tide
incorporates the epic sweep and global concerns expected of a contemporary spy thriller’

Irish Times

‘She provides lots of detail of intelligence work used to counter today’s terrorists that seems real – and intriguing’

Financial Times

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The Geneva Trap

A Liz Carlyle Novel

Geneva, 2012. When a Russian intelligence officer approaches MI5 with vital information about the imminent cyber-sabotage of an Anglo–American Defence programme, he refuses to talk to anyone but Liz Carlyle. But who is he, and what is his connection to the British agent?

At a tracking station in Nevada, US Navy officers watch in horror as one of their unmanned drones plummets out of the sky, and panic spreads through the British and American Intelligence services. Is this a Russian plot to disable the West’s defences? Or is the threat coming from elsewhere?

As Liz and her team hunt for a mole inside the MOD, the trail leads them from Geneva, to Marseilles and into a labyrinth of international intrigue, in a race against time to stop the Cold War heating up once again...

‘Rimington’s best work demonstrates a flair for narrative, with a sense of authenticity and an insider’s grasp on the pressing issues of the day’
Washington Post

‘For a pacy page-turner, she’s a safe bet ... Rimington is particularly strong in her accounts of procedure, unsurprisingly, given her past role as Head of MI5’
Independent

‘Liz Carlyle is an MI5 agent with the traditional thriller-heroine mix of dysfunctional personal life and steely ambition’
Daily Telegraph

Order your copy

By phone: +44 (0) 1256 302 699

By email:
[email protected]

Delivery is usually 3 to 5 working days

Free postage and packaging for orders over £20

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Prices and availability subject to change without notice

First published in Great Britain 2014

This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

The moral right of the author has been asserted

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