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They ignored me and kept talking amongst themselves.
“I said, I NEED to make a PHONE CALL!” I shouted.
Both men turned and looked at me like they wanted to kill me – but the guy who had arrested me finally uncuffed me. He reached across the desk, grabbed an ancient office telephone complete with faux wood paneling and clear plastic buttons, and set it in front of me.
“I’ll use my cell phone,” I said as I pulled it out of my pocket.
“NO!” he shouted as he pointed at the landline.
I cursed under my breath and dialed the extraction number. I had it memorized, so that wasn’t the problem. I was just afraid they might not answer once they saw where I was calling from.
I was in luck; someone did answer – a male voice, although this one had a vaguely Eastern European accent.
“Who is this?” the voice asked.
“Lars Andersen,” I said, giving him my name for the mission.
“You appear to be calling from a police station in Como, Italy.”
“Yes. I’ve had a bit of a problem – ”
“Are you under arrest?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why do you THINK you’re under arrest?”
I hesitated, then answered, “They found guns in my car – ”
“What was your name again?” the voice interrupted.
“Lars Andersen.”
“I don’t know any ‘Lars Andersen.’ Don’t call this number again.”
And he hung up.
I felt absolutely sick to my stomach.
Not because I was surprised –
But because the conversation had gone exactly as I feared it would.
Alistair’s warning echoed in my head:
If you’re caught… by the target or a foreign government, it doesn’t matter… you’re on your own. You must never try to leverage your connection with MI6 to obtain release. We will categorically deny that we know you. If you get caught, no one is coming to get you. You and you alone will suffer the consequences of failure.
The phone call just confirmed my greatest fear:
I was well and truly fucked.
85
The cops put me through the booking process. When they asked me my name and address, I gave them the name on the passport and the made-up address listed in the dossier.
