CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
May 20th
Agents 45, 37, 61 and 22 entered the outer office exchanging puzzled glances. They knew that they were here for a special meeting but hadn't expected such a welcoming committee. In front of the double doors leading to the conference room were six heavily armed men wearing, despite the sticky heat of late May, flak jackets.
John did a double take.
"Oi? What the fuck are you doing here?"
The shortest of the six men stepped forward and shook his hand.
"I'm in Close Protection now. I heard you'd ended up with this mob."
"We may be a mob," said John with a grin, "but we get paid many times more than you poor bastards."
"Jenny?"
Jennifer turned towards the other end of the line of armed men.
"Nobody ever dares call me that, except..."
"Hello," said the tallest of the group.
"Are you... you're in SO1 now, obviously."
"Yep. Not quite as lofty a promotion as you but it's not bad."
They hugged.
Hannah turned to Adam.
"Do you know any of them?"
"What?" he said distractedly. "No, no I don't."
"Oh, good, I was beginning to feel left out. Hang on. Jen, does that mean you were a... policewoman?"
"For my sins, yes."
"And you, John."
"SAS."
"Now that I can imagine but, Jen, I just can't see you in a police uniform."
Adam coughed to hide his embarrassment and was relieved at that moment when Bill White opened the connecting door and ushered them in.
"Sorry to keep you hanging around in the dark, so to speak, I'm sure you understand."
"Good morning to you all," said the Prime Minister, shaking their hands individually as if they were voters at a rally.
The agents took their seats in silence.
"It goes without saying," said White, "that everything said in this room is subject to the Official Secrets Act. It is not to even be discussed with any other agents, especially Agent 4. Is that understood?"
More puzzled glances, but they all nodded their assent.
"A lot of information has come to light in recent weeks," continued the director, "but I wanted to coordinate all of it before taking any action. The time for action has arrived, that's why you're all here now."
Adam began jiggling his leg anxiously under the table. This was clearly the biggest thing they had ever dealt with. What the hell was going on?
"It transpires that Peterson's killing of Libby Stevens and the sabotage of Arthur are connected. The connection is the CIA."
He left a long pause for the revelation to sink in, before filling them in with the details of Peterson's now confirmed story.
"It goes without saying that we can take no official action because the person known to us as Libby Stevens is no longer, and never has been, a CIA agent. To all official purposes our deputy director has murdered an innocent member of the public. I've managed to keep a lid on that for now but that's a problem I have to deal with, it needn't concern you."
"Anyway, before I give you your next mission, the PM wishes to address you."
The Prime Minister stood up and looked around at his audience, his speech training kicking in automatically.
"Firstly I should congratulate you on your tenth anniversary. Anniversaries are a time for reflection, and also for looking forwards. T14 was set up to bring together the combined skills of the SAS, SO15 and MI5 and has been, until now, concerned entirely with terrorism prevention, ensuring that the events of twenty fourteen are never repeated. They haven't been, thanks to your hard work.
"I am, naturally, currently involved in preparations for the ceremony to mark the tenth anniversary of the attacks and remembrance of the eighty thousand victims. However, we are now faced with an even greater threat. This threat could destroy the entire fabric and economy of this country."
The Prime Minister fixed them with a stern glance.
"We are now, effectively, engaged in a cold war with America."
The four agents displayed individual looks of shock, confusion and incomprehension.
"With oil now topping five hundred dollars a barrel, global car use has plummeted to barely twenty percent of it's level at the turn of the century. This has negated America's economic stranglehold on the world, along with the increasing rise of India and China. Naturally, the good old Yankees are still refusing to cooperate with anyone outside their precious borders and are more isolated now than ever.
"Thanks to our joint technological ventures with Germany and India, Britain is once again leading the world in economic growth. Increasingly smaller, cheaper, more efficient electronic devices are about the only thing, other than food and utilities, that most people can now afford. This has allowed us to revitalise our moribund manufacturing industry and remain relatively prosperous in these times of global economic disaster.
"However, this prospering economy of ours is more vulnerable than at any time in our history. A terrorist attack on the national grid would render all our products nothing more than door stops. Then there is the problem of espionage in our research and development establishments; the list is disturbingly long.
"Since the problems you've had with the CIA and your Agent 4, we've been doing some nosing around. It seems that the CIA make frequent use of honey traps. They did it with your deputy director, they may well have also done this to Agent 4. It is possible that they hoped to blackmail the agent into using his technological capabilities to smuggle vital information to them which would enable them to infiltrate our technology innovators and use our success to restart their flagging economy. If this was their intention then it failed, because your colleague immediately told his wife about the incident and therefore negated their blackmail opportunities."
"But..." stammered Hannah, "that means they were able to programme him in some way. That should be impossible."
"Fucking hell," said John. "Sorry, but I really need a fag."
The Prime Minister watched with amusement as John went over to the window, opened it as far as it would go, and leaned out to light his cigarette.
"Anyway," continued White, throwing a sideways glance at John, "I have taken the difficult decision not to tell Arthur about this. Especially in the light of what I am about to say." He let out a heavy sigh. "Further examination of the virus has revealed that it is highly probable that direct instructions were somehow fed into his implant and then erased themselves upon completion. This means that we cannot rule out the possibility that he was given further instructions of which we are unaware. There may still be instructions inside him that are hiding themselves effectively. In short, Arthur may now be a sleeper agent for the CIA."
The Memory Man: T14 Book 1 Page 17