Wings of the Morning (42 page)

The Mansion House settled well under the younger management. Martin, more the sole captain on the bridge, found himself perversely more relaxed. Business was good, the prospects bright and the
general mood at 100 Piccadilly spoke of vitality and expectation.

Meanwhile, David started to turn the vision of Zero into reality. Cloistered for long days with Felix Maas, his first objective was to identify the six states on the continent of Africa from
which he would choose his final target. He was honest in recognising that his own judgement, whilst well informed, was inevitably subjective. He needed the incisive objectivity which Felix brought
to bear and their lengthy sessions forged a strong working bond between the two men despite their disparities of age, skills and experience. They based themselves in David Heaven’s ground
floor office and occasionally adjourned to talk into the night in the comfort of David’s apartment. David spent much time trawling through his stack of old fashioned travel notebooks, maps
and memorabilia reminding himself of people, places and visits over the years. Simultaneously, Felix would be working on his ever expanding database, a cornucopia of facts, figures, trends and
expectations. His fingers would whirl over his keyboard as he assembled the bones over which David’s rich memories could be most effectively draped.

David kept spasmodic contact with both King and Pente. The American seemed to be doing a lot of travelling, much of it between London and Washington, but he sounded positive and keen to get a
full update on progress which David took as a promising sign. He said that he had some good news of his own coming up, but refused to elaborate until they could get together. Pente went completely
out of touch for a couple of months which worried David and he rang the Order in Hexham. They were cagey there and took some persuasion to tell him that the Pente had gone down with a severe attack
of malaria in Tanzania. He had recovered, but was taking time in recuperation and he certainly sounded as boisterous as ever when he finally telephoned.

David and Hugh spoke frequently, mostly on the phone although they did manage some infrequent meetings when Hugh dropped into London for appointments in the City. They would often speak about
the situation with Conrad. This was partly because Hugh was sensitive to the whole matter, but increasingly they were concerned about the military aspect of Zero. David had always assumed that he
would rely on Connie in this key area and now he felt bereft of guidance. Hugh could be of no help either, but he was putting pressure on David to come up with an alternative.

‘I have to know the cost of what and who we’re going to buy, David, and my own best guess is really not good enough.’

David was cudgelling his brains over this one when a fresh and unconnected crisis came up. Felix asked to come up one evening and appeared with a laptop under his arm.

‘I may not need this,’ he said, ‘and I promise not to be a geek and dazzle you.’

David merely grunted as he poured them both a drink.

‘What’s bothering you Felix.’

‘Security, in a word. You see, all my files, all my notes, just the complete databank on Zero, I keep it all quite separately, heavily protected and only accessible by me. I’ve got
the lap top so I can give you a demo of the whole process I go through every time I open up or shut down.’

‘No need to do that. Coming from you, Felix, I’ll take it as read.’

‘OK. The point is that I’m picking up signs of someone trying to hack into it. I’m sure they’ve had no success so far but I can’t guarantee that they won’t
keep at it and the further we go with Zero, the more dangerous and incriminating this would become.’

‘I agree. That would be bloody serious now and it’ll get worse as you say. I think you’re going to tell me that you suspect Ginger’s hand behind this?’

‘I am, David. That’s exactly what worries me. I can’t believe that anyone else would have got this far, and if it is him, then he’ll crack it eventually. Ginger is that
good.’

‘And I guess it wouldn’t help us to kick him out?’

‘The reverse. That would send the message that I’m on to him and he doesn’t need to be within a thousand miles of this building to keep sniffing around. He could be
anywhere.’

They looked at each other. ‘Do you have a proposal then?’

‘Yes, two in fact. First, I’ll start a whole new suite of programs for the work we’re doing and then a second one to let them speak to each other. That way, I can more easily
disguise things to look like commercial market research.’

David nodded his agreement and Felix went on, ‘but secondly, let’s keep him inside the tent and pissing out. I suggest we put a tail on Ginger. Trouble is, David, McCabe is basically
a lovely guy but he’s just so promiscuous and not just with his body. He loves showing off his brilliance and for a couple of bob, he’s anybody’s.’

David had to smile at the Dutchman’s extraordinary grasp of idiom. Talk about international. And then he smiled some more. This whole, unwanted problem might be the means of resolving
another. He promised to take action immediately, and when Felix had left him, he telephoned Conrad at home. Tepee answered: she was welcoming as if he rang every week and not after months of
silence. Connie was calm if not ecstatic, but that was anyway his style. He agreed that industrial espionage was covered in Bastion’s portfolio and that he would accept a brief from The
Mansion House if David would send him more details tomorrow. He was helpful but still reserved.

David felt happier as he prepared for bed. The whole episode had given him a further idea. In the morning, he made a further call and that evening he took a plane to Singapore. The giant
Sebastien Mantel, whose father had saved Tepee, was there at Changi and they went straight to a hotel. Seb knew of David’s estrangement from Conrad and he knew the original cause. He
understood that David wanted a conversation about Zero and not about anything else. He could accept these terms although he was saddened by the background. It was Seb who started the
conversation.

‘Over the phone, David, you told me enough to start me thinking and I’ve been concentrating on one individual. This is a guy who approached me, actually. That was about six months
ago but I have checked that he is still available. I have a file here if you wish?’

‘Thanks Seb, but I’d rather hear it from you first.’

‘OK.’ Seb settled back in his chair and began to speak. It was entertaining to hear such a true blue character described in Seb’s competent, but heavily accented English.

‘His name is Fergus Carradine: you pronounce the ‘dine’ as in ‘wine’. He’s about forty-five. Born in Dublin. Educated at Charterhouse and Bristol University.
Commissioned into the Royal Irish Rangers, served with the SAS, returned to his Regiment, resigned just before it was disbanded in 1992. Emigrated to Australia to join their army and SAS Force. Saw
service in East Timor. Much respected as planner for covert ops. Olympic archer, fine pistol shot, five handicap golfer. Military historian recognised for his specialist knowledge of the Peninsular
War. Has been twice married and twice widowed. No children, no surviving family. He’s retiring from the Australian army and wants a job. But he also wants to return to live in Europe and
revive his Irish roots. I think Carradine could be your man, David.’

‘I hope you’re right Seb. When can I meet him?’

‘Right away. He’s waiting for us in the lobby. I’ll ask him to come and join us here.’

FERGUS CARRADINE — 1997

Fergus Carradine had brains, poise and style: with them came perception and sensitivity. He was not a big man, a little shorter than David. He looked lean and fit. He was
soberly dressed in a dark lightweight suit, blue shirt and a plain tie. He retained a full head of hair, neatly cut and revealing the first tinges of grey. He wore a small moustache which did not
look affected beneath his long nose which he stroked gently from time to time as he listened to David. In his speech, he had picked up an Australian twang which went with some of his colloquial
expressions. He had a habit of pausing before he posed a question, and he chose his words carefully. He had humour and carried an aura of command. David liked him immediately and felt that Seb
could be right.

They covered Carradine’s military career first, with Seb going through it and asking most of the questions. David felt that this was all easy going for Fergus, who knew that he had the
track record. He certainly made a strong impression. They moved onto personal matters. David was good in interview. He could find his way into the burrows where secrets might lurk. He was never
reluctant to ask and so he grilled. Fergus was open to most points for discussion, but he had his limits. David enquired about the two marriages and Fergus explained that his first wife had died in
a car accident, while his second, an Australian, had been lost to cervical cancer. David asked if he would try again, to be told politely that the subject was off limits. Fair enough, David thought
to himself and picked up a faint nod of agreement from Seb.

Then it was Carradine’s turn, but David wanted him to have fair run at it so he first told him the principles and objective of Zero, plus the status as at that date. He was completely
candid: he was taking a risk but it would have been an unproductive conversation on any other basis. Fergus heard him out without raising an eyebrow, but when this introduction was finished, he
embarked on his own interview and some of the questions which he asked of David and Seb were very testing.

After a couple of hours, they decided to call it a day. David was tired from overnight travel and he wanted time for reflection on his own. They agreed to meet in his hotel suite the following
morning. Carradine took the initiative and his comments carried the supposition that he would be offered the job and that he would accept it. First, he was concerned about the timing. If it was
unacceptable to delay the invasion date, then they would have to move fast.

‘To carry this off,’ said Fergus, ‘we’ll need to be at battalion strength, with five hundred in the front line and a hundred and fifty in support and administration.
That’s an estimate because I don’t yet know the target, but from what you’ve told me, I won’t be far out. However, that’s a large number to recruit, as Seb knows.
It’s never straightforward to find the right calibre of people. Then they have to be trained and worked into a coordinated team, but we are well served for a location. My choice would be
Papua New Guinea. I know a bit about PNG. I can establish a camp in the Highlands which will be entirely discreet. The terrain is demanding and the climate taxing. You don’t ask questions in
that country and expect to get polite replies. The total environment is not unlike Africa, and yet it’s more or less on the other side of the world. It will suit our purpose very
well.’

‘You’ll want a few people immediately?’ asked David.

‘Correct. I can nominate the half dozen I’d like with me to get started, but there isn’t one amongst them who knows Africa. I’ll need your help there.’

Seb put in that he had Rory Trollope in his office on secondment from Bastion in the UK and he gave Fergus a quick brief on Rory’s African background and military record.

‘He sounds good and it’s useful that he was in the Reccies. I’d like to meet him but I assume he knows nothing of Zero yet, and that I will tell him as and when I judge
it’s time?’

‘Agreed,’ said David and Sebastien in unison. Carradine nodded and moved to his next main point which was money. David had anticipated this and was able to answer that all the
funding which they would require was already planned and would be available as and when needed.

Fergus raised his eyes.

‘The cost of materiel and people will be enormous, David. You don’t have the figures yet, but you sound very confident.’

‘So will you be when you meet Hugh Dundas. It’s good that you live in the same part of the world. I take it you’ll be staying here for the present?’

‘Yes I will. I have an apartment here in Singapore.’

‘There are people in London who you should meet: my business partner, my collaborators in this venture, Felix Maas who handles research and planning. When could you come over?’

‘I could come at any time, but I recommend that I should not do so until late next year. The best basis for covert action is always “need to know”, and they don’t need to
know me yet.’

David said ‘I understand,’ and after a pause he went on, ‘Fergus, all three of us have been talking in language which says that you’re already on board. I’m very
happy with that and I’d like to shake hands on it. We need, of course, to cover the detail of your remuneration and how it’s paid. How we communicate. But first, may I assume your
acceptance in principle or have you anything else to ask first?’

‘Just one point. I’m surprised, Seb, that your UK partner Conrad Aveling isn’t here. I’ve never met him, but he enjoys a good reputation and had a relevant military
career himself.’

David took the lead. ‘I’m surprised too, Fergus. Conrad is my oldest friend and his experience would be invaluable to us. But he doesn’t share my ambitions, is actually very
opposed to them and as a result, he has voted himself out. I much regret his decision.’