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* * *
“Good of you to pop over, John. I wouldn’t have asked for a meeting at such short notice if there hadn’t been a development.”
“Not a problem, Alan, and thank you for the tip-off, because it allowed me to dig out the relevant file.”
“Perhaps you could start by bringing me up to date on Miss Brandt.”
Sir John Rennie, Director General of MI6, opened the file on the
table in front of him. “Miss Brandt was born in Dresden in 1944. She joined the communist youth party at the age of sixteen, and, when she left school, went to the East German School of Languages to study Russian. After graduating, the Stasi recruited her as an interpreter at international conferences, which we assumed was no more than a front. But there’s no proof that she did much more than pass on fairly mundane information to her superiors. In fact, we were of the opinion that she’d fallen out of favor until the Giles Barrington affair.”
“Which I assume was a setup.”
“Yes. But who was being set up? Because she certainly wasn’t on our list of operatives who specialize in that sort of thing and, to be fair to Barrington, he’s steered well clear of any honey traps while on government trips behind the Iron Curtain, despite several opportunities.”
“Is it just possible that she really did fall for him?” asked the Cabinet Secretary.
“There’s nothing in your file to suggest you’re a romantic, Alan, so I’ll take your question at face value. It would certainly explain several incidents that have taken place since she arrived in the UK.”
“Such as?”
“We now know that Giles Barrington’s rescue of a damsel in distress from the other side of the Iron Curtain was actually nothing of the sort. In fact, it was a well-organized operation overseen and approved by Marshal Koshevoi.”
“Can you be sure of that?”
“Yes. When Brandt was attempting to cross the border with Barrington by bus, she was questioned by a young officer who nearly blew the whole operation. He was posted to Siberia a week later. That was what caused us to suspect they’d always wanted her to cross the border, although it’s just possible she only fell in with their plans because she really did want to escape.”
“What a devious mind you have, John.”
“I’m head of MI6, Alan, not the Boy Scouts.”
“Do you have any proof?”
“Nothing concrete. However, at a recent meeting Brandt had with her handler in Truro, our observer reported that Pengelly’s body language suggested he wasn’t at all pleased with her. Which isn’t surprising, because one of our double agents recently passed some information to her that Pengelly would certainly have reported to his masters back in Moscow, and I can tell you he didn’t, which means she didn’t.”
“That’s a risky game she’s playing. It won’t take them long to work out she isn’t keeping her side of the bargain.”
“Agreed. And once they do, she’ll be on the next flight back to East Berlin, never to be heard of again.”
“Perhaps she’d make a good candidate for turning,” suggested Sir Alan.
“Possibly, but I still need to be convinced she’s not taking us for fools. I plan to use the same agent to feed her with a piece of information Pengelly will be desperate to hear about, so I’ll know within a few days if she’s passed the message on to him.”
“Has the time come to let Barrington know he’s sleeping with the enemy? If Labour win the next election he’ll certainly be back in the Cabinet, and then someone is going to have to brief the prime minister.”
“Let’s clear that hurdle when…”
* * *
“What are you up to today, darling?”
“A little shopping this morning. Your socks either have holes in them, or they don’t match.”
“How exciting,” said Giles. “And to think I’m only opposing the new education bill.”
“I’m also hoping to find something for your sister’s birthday,” she added, ignoring the comment. “Any ideas?”
“A soap box? We’re barely on speaking terms at the moment.”
