McCutcheon shook his head, but not in denial. It was more a gesture of surprise. As though the idea had never occurred to him.
‘Data and meaning,’ repeated Caitlin. ‘It’s all about frame of reference. General Musso?’
The de facto ambassador shook his head. He did not look happy.
‘Mr McCutcheon, this is disturbing on so many levels,’ he began. ‘Firstly, on the face of it, I agree with you that what you have uncovered should be of some concern. However, I am also disturbed by the way in which it was uncovered. You’ve spoken a number of times this morning of the need to repair relations between Seattle and Fort Hood. Now, one of the reasons that relations have come to the present sorry state is because of Governor Blackstone’s insistence on running a virtual shadow state down here. Duplicating our capabilities, usurping the federal government’s prerogatives, abrogating agreements signed in good faith, and bending us over for an ass fucking with malice - for no reason other than the Governor’s unseemly enjoyment of fucking the President in the ass whenever the mood should take him.’
Righteous indignation was turning to genuine anger.
‘Did it ever occur to you or Governor Blackstone that by running your own foreign intelligence service, you could potentially be crossing over with legitimate operations of the National Intelligence Agency, or any of the service intelligence agencies, or Echelon or allied agencies, with whom, I both hope and presume, you would have no formal or informal liaison arrangements?’
If he meant to unsettle or intimidate McCutcheon, he failed. Blackstone’s aide waved off the attack.
‘We took our concerns to Seattle and they blew us off,’ McCutcheon replied. ‘I can understand that. The President has a lot more to worry about than half-a-dozen wrinkled old fascists coming out of retirement to dance the Macarena for Roberto. But we are a lot closer to what we perceive as a growing problem down here and, granted, we don’t have national responsibilities to divert us. Governor Blackstone is a big believer in self-sufficiency. This is a problem. We decided in the first instance to look into it ourselves. We decided it’s bigger and more complicated than even we imagined, so we’re kicking it upstairs to the big boys. We figured you’d be happy about that. It’s a growth experience for us. We’re learning to let go and trust you.’
‘Oh, spare me …’
‘Gentlemen, please. I don’t know how many times I have to say the politics are irrelevant. At least for the moment. Can we at least agree that we’ll deal with this as quickly as possible?’
‘So you’re on board for the big win?’ asked McCutcheon, sounding hopeful.
‘I will prepare a threat assessment for Mr Culver,’ she promised. ‘And I’ll make sure it gets to him with priority, but that will require some give on your part. As much as the domestic politics are irrelevant, they’re also inevitable. You’re just going to have to accept that, Ty. The NIA, in particular, are going to be pissed.’
‘Oh, those weenies are always pissed. It’s their natural state of being.’
‘Well, for once they’ll have reason to be,’ Caitlin stated firmly. ‘Nobody’s saying you can’t gather intelligence. Or that you shouldn’t. But if you’re going to do it, would it kill you to let us know?’
McCutcheon was gracious enough to look abashed. ‘I suppose not. As long as we know we’ll be taken seriously.’
‘That I can guarantee,’ she said. ‘I’ve only been working for the Chief of Staff for a short time, but he impressed me as man who takes threats seriously. Now, if we can finish reviewing these files, we should talk to the Governor again before heading back to Temple and reporting in. Then, if you have no objections, I would like to set up an office over here.’ She framed the statement as a question and left it hanging.
‘Colonel Murdoch, are you sure about that?’ asked Musso.
‘I’m sure I need to be here, sir, but whether or not they will have me is another matter.’
She smiled at McCutcheon, suffusing more warmth into the gesture than she’d allowed herself to display all morning. He still seemed a little nonplussed by the suggestion, but as she suspected, Tyrone was a sucker for a pretty girl.
‘Well, I’m sure we’d love to have you for a sleepover, Kate, if General Musso can bear to let you out of his sight.’
‘Good,’ said Caitlin. ‘I’d like to wrap this up as quickly as possible.’
44
DARWIN, NORTHERN TERRITORY
Julianne had called a taxi for the trip from Doctors Gully out to Coonawarra Base Hospital, before adding the number to the phone’s contacts list, growing ever more adept at negotiating the Nokia’s wealth of functions. Her new jacket was just long enough to conceal the SIG Sauer holstered in the small of her back, but she’d have to be careful about bending over or raising her arms. Not a good look for a young lawyer on the rise, letting everybody know you’re armed. Even in free-port-era Darwin. On the other hand, she’d been able to augment her disguise after coming across a pair of suitably bookish-looking spectacles in a bedside drawer, obviously left behind by the previous occupant.
She shouldn’t have been surprised when Shah’s man Granger turned up to drive her to the hospital. But she was, just a little. She’d become so used to the idea of her invisible security blanket that there were times when she wondered whether they were there at all.
‘Nah, you’re stuck with us now, mate,’ Granger told her.
‘But how did you even know to come and get me? I just called the switchboard.’
‘Magic!’ he said in a stage whisper. ‘So your mate’s over at the Coonawarra, is he? Fuckin’ swish. It’s where I’d want to be if I got my arse blown up.’
Granger put the car into drive and pulled out, heading back towards the city centre.
Jules, still holding the phone in her hand, was surprised to see the screen light up, displaying a Microsoft Where 2 map. A blue dot moved slowly along the representation of the street they were driving down. The stupid- looking paperclip with the big cartoon eyes was back, though, jumping up and down and pointing at the dot. A speech bubble appeared next to it.
‘What the fuck …’
Granger looked over and down at the handset in her lap. ‘Oh, not fucking Clippy,’ he grunted. ‘Do you mind?’
She passed the phone over to him. A series of quick, bewildering thumb gestures later and the Australian handed it back, without the animated paperclip.
‘Fucking Microsoft,’ he said. ‘If only the Wave had been just a little bit bigger. Used to be an Apple man myself. Fucking sad, eh?’
For the next few minutes they drove north, as if heading out to Shah’s compound. Granger explained that the hospital, like so much of the city, was new. It had been built over the bones of an old naval base, eccentrically located some distance inland. Like the army, Australia’s senior service had been persuaded to give up a piece of valuable real estate by the promise of a massive new facility, including the docks currently being built to home-port the Combined Fleet not far from her motel.
‘Had to happen,’ added Granger, as they slipped past the turn-off near the airport that would have taken them on to Shah’s. ‘There were so many new people in town, the place was bursting at the seams. They needed to build new everything - roads, houses, bloody hospitals. There was plenty of land, but not everybody wants to live next to a military base. They’re noisy. Things go boom all the time.’
Darwin International Airport looked even busier than the last time she’d driven past. A couple of jet fighters screamed down the main runway, moving so quickly it was difficult to make out the markings on their tails, but she thought she recognised the Singaporean flag. A massive construction zone glided by on the right, looking for all the world like an open-cut mine. A small patch of bare waste ground separated the cyclone fencing on the eastern edge of the building site from a multi-level car park belonging to the new hospital.
‘Used to be a detention facility, a jail for illegal migrants,’ said Granger, indicating the massive structure. ‘Course, they had to move that as well, once they started getting hundreds of boatloads of reffos turning up every week. Got a huge place out in the desert now. Fucking Sandline got the contract for that. They can have it, for all I care.’
