Their Own Game

by Duncan James

  ***

  They agreed that Simpsons, in the Strand, was about half way between them, so that’s where they arranged to meet the next day.

  The morning meeting went off smoothly enough. As expected, Andrew Groves’ curiosity about the extra two meetings scheduled for afterwards went unsatisfied, and he was asked not to probe any further. Having dealt with the weekend’s media, he contented himself with a dissertation about straight cucumbers, and left.

  The first of the special meetings, with the carefully selected Cabinet Ministers, went rather better than either Sir Robin or Tony Weaver had expected. They immediately got whiff that something was in the wind when they arrived and were ushered into the Cabinet room having had their brief cases confiscated. They all signed up readily to the Prime Minister’s demand for total loyalty, dedication and secrecy, even though they had no idea what they were agreeing to. But they knew it was either a case of that, or find something else to do while on the backbenches. And they had worked with Weaver long enough to know that he was unlikely to ask them for any greater sacrifice than he was himself prepared to make. Until, that is, he started to brief them about the first phase of his plan for Northern Ireland. Then the discussion became quite lively, especially when they were told that, if phase one was successful, there would be a second, even more dramatic proposal to put to them, but that they were not going to be told about that until later. Sir Robin Algar was able to report that he had already set in train plans for a special video link hot line and a one-off cipher for use during the operation, and that he was meeting a top official from the Bank of England tomorrow. Even the Prime Minister looked impressed, and eventually all those present undertook to support the project, on the understanding that it would not go ahead without the unqualified support and help of the United States.

  As they left, the Prime Minister motioned to Algar to stay behind.

  “Well,” said Weaver, “so far so good. We eventually got the support we needed, but I would hardly say they were enthusiastic about the project.”

  “Understandable, I suppose. It’s going to make life difficult for all of them, especially as they are not yet authorised to consult within their own Departments, and they can see the risks which will accompany failure.”

  “At least we all sink together, so I suppose they took comfort from that,” said the Prime Minister. “I’m glad you’ve already made a start - that helped to get them on side, I’m sure.”

  “I’m not all certain where to start with my colleague at the Bank of England though,” said Algar, “but I couldn’t think of anyone else to give me a lead.”

  “Perhaps this will help,” said the Prime Minister, handing over the package from Bill Clayton.

  “And who, may I ask,” queried Algar, looking at the grubby envelope, “is Edward Benbow from Fittleworth in Sussex?”

  “Major Bill Clayton’s uncle, as it happens,” replied Weaver. “But the envelope isn’t important. Look inside.”

  “Good grief!” exclaimed Algar, as he skimmed the list of terrorist bank accounts. “If this is only half accurate, it’s going to save an enormous amount of time and effort.”

  “Most of what Clayton does is on the ball, so I hope that is, too. He handed it to me yesterday, when I was briefing him and James Anchor about our visit.”

  “I suppose, even if nothing else happens, cutting off the terrorists’ supply of cash would do no harm,” said the Cabinet Secretary.

  “Exactly,” agreed the Prime Minister. “As you’ve already made a start, keep going!”

  By then, the Police Chiefs and CDS had arrived for the second crucial meeting to be held that day. General Sir Giles Guthrie, the Services chief, had thought to bring his ADC with him, an elegant-looking captain from the Grenadier Guards, whose mission was to take the notes. In the end, he stayed in the outer office with the briefcases. Apart from that, the meeting was a good one - indeed, those present even showed some enthusiasm for the task in hand. Getting rid of the terrorists was going to save them all a good deal of manpower and effort.

  There was token resistance from the NIPS Chief Constable. “It’s our job to uphold the law, of course,” he said, “and I would find it difficult to live with some of what you propose, Prime Minister. Murder is murder, after all”.

  “It’s also your job to prevent crime,” responded Weaver. “Regard this as an exercise in long term crime prevention.”

  The two policemen looked at one another, nodded agreement, and grinned. From then on, the operation had their complete support.

  “I am sure all of us totally accept the need for secrecy if this plan is to succeed,” said Sir Giles, “and I applaud what you are already doing, Prime Minister, to set up discrete secure systems. But I wonder if I could ask a question, without in the least wishing to appear impertinent?”

  “Go ahead,” said the Prime Minister, wondering what was coming. Guthrie was nobody’s fool.

  “I know you have weekly audiences with the Sovereign,” said the General, “and I suppose at some time you will have to brief on this subject. But, - ahem, - we all know that the King is something of an, - um, er, - how shall I put this - eccentric? Writes letters to all sorts of people with all sorts of sometimes - ahem - odd views. Could be a risk here, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “The thought had already occurred to me, General,” responded Tony Weaver. “I plan to brief the King only about the political scenario, and even then not until the establishment of peace in the Province, if that is achieved. I shall brief you, gentlemen, my Cabinet colleagues, and Parliament all at about the same time. He will not be told about our role in ridding the Province of the terrorists, only that they seem, in some way, to have ceased operating and left the country.”

  “Excellent,” said the General, and went to gather up his papers - except that there weren’t any. “I can assure you of my total support”.

  “Good.” said Weaver. “When I know that we have the support of our American allies, I will let you know. Until then, no one else is to be briefed by any of you. If I had wanted any of your subordinates briefed, they would have been here today, and I would have done it myself.”

  They shook hands and left, collecting brief cases, notebooks and ADCs on the way. The Prime Minister and Cabinet Secretary made their way to the PM’s office, and sank into armchairs.

  “We’ve made good progress, Robin,” said Weaver. “Let’s hope they can all be trusted to keep their mouths shut until I tell them otherwise.”

  “I’m sure the military will be no problem,” responded Algar, “and I think you put enough of the fear of God into your Cabinet colleagues to ensure that they toe the line, too.”

  “Do you realise that we now have all the initial support we need, on this side of the Atlantic? I wonder how things are going in the White House.”

  “I wonder.”

  “I’m very tempted to get on the blower to find out,” said the Prime Minister. “but I shan’t. It would be better for them to ring me, but I hope they’re not too long about it. The suspense is killing!”