He was early for his appointment, so decided to walk to MI5. As he did so, he turned over recent events in his mind. After being ferried to The Bahamas by the US Coastguard, he had been met by Donnelly, who had taken over as head of G. Sybilla had been delayed in The Bahamas, but Kelly had been sent home the following day. Donnelly had greeted him partly with enthusiasm, clearly one of his agents performing well was a feather in his cap, and partly with concern because of the report he had received about Kelly’s injuries.
Kelly had by-passed customs and passport control and had been whisked through the diplomatic channel to a small room in the terminal block. There he was met by a doctor who carried out a full examination. He confirmed to Donnelly that the injuries had been sustained by a severe beating. Despite appearances there were no serious injuries, but the doctor recommended complete rest for a while.
Donnelly’s response had been to send Kelly on leave for a week and he would brook no argument on the subject, so Kelly had taken himself to South Devon to walk the tors of Dartmoor and immerse himself in the ancient history of the region. He had enjoyed the experience but felt guilty because, apart from a little discomfort from some of the now disappearing bruises, he was otherwise fine.
On her return to England, Sybilla had found him and spent a little time with him. They had been a delightful few days, but too short. All too soon she had had to leave to take up her new posting in Berlin.
He reached MI5 and walked into the foyer. He smiled at the receptionist, who clearly didn’t recognise him, but noted his ID card and signed him in. The man in the grey suit with the bulge was different, but the attitude of casual awareness was the same. Kelly started for the stairs when the receptionist called him back.
“Sorry Mr Kelly, I nearly missed the message on the log. You are to report to the Head of CS this morning, not Mr Donnelly as previously arranged.”
Kelly nodded and thanked him. He decided to take the lift as CS was further up the building than G.
Kelly exited the lift and strolled along the corridor, past the doors all prefixed with CS, until he came to the door marked ‘CS Branch - Head of Operations’. He gently tapped and walked in when called. The door opened into an outer office, in exactly the same format as that of G Branch.
A secretary smiled at him from behind her desk. “Major Kelly?” Kelly nodded and returned the smile. “Head of Ops will see you now,” she said then spoke into the intercom. “Please go in, Major.”
Kelly walked into the inner office. It was gloomy and appeared to be empty at first, until Kelly saw a figure in silhouette huddled over a back lit map in the corner of the room. It was a silhouette that Dan Kelly would have recognised anywhere. Archie Jenkins!
Archie, grinning, came from of the gloom. He moved to the wall, switched on a light, and indicated the other corner of the room, where two battered old chairs were arranged around an old Chippendale coffee table.
Kelly smiled as he took his seat. Déjà vu, he thought.
“Hello Dan! Thanks for coming,” the old seaman said as he sat down, “and congratulations on a job well done. Both you and Skadi. I’m proud of her, just as I’m sure Donnelly must be proud of you. Mind you, he won’t admit it!”
“YOU are Head of CS? You are CS1?” asked Kelly.
“Indeed!” said Jenkins. “This is the boring civil service job I mentioned to you some time ago. I went on so much about the need to be more focussed in our intelligence gathering that after the war they moved me in to set up this department, but of course this is only stage one.”
“Which seems to suggest,” said Kelly, “that there will be a stage two?”
“The planning for stage two has already started,” confirmed Jenkins. “We are well advanced and plan to go active in a little over a month.”
“Am I cleared to know?” ask Kelly.
“Yes, you are,” confirmed Jenkins. “In fact, I’d like you to be involved, hence my calling you to this meeting.” Jenkins pre-empted the next question by raising his hand. “Let’s take tea and reminisce before we go into detail. Excuse me.” Jenkins arose and walked to the door, which he opened halfway and spoke to his PA.
Kelly heard the woman trilling, “Yes Admiral, at once,” as the door closed. Jenkins sat down again with a sigh.
“Do you remember Megan, Dan? She would have assumed we wanted tea. I wouldn’t even have had to ask.”
“I do remember Megan,” said Kelly, displaying no emotion. “Very nice person, seemed very efficient.”
“Indeed, she was, or rather is,” said Jenkins. “Had a terrible time after the war. Husband fell at Casino, but she bounced back.” Jenkins paused for a while, and then looking at Kelly askance said, “We’re to be married. Seems she became quite fond of me when we worked together.” Kelly was only partly surprised; he had detected the bond between them when he visited the admiralty. He offered his heartfelt congratulations.
“When I told her I was seeing you, she said to send you her best wishes. I think she took a shine to you, you know Dan.”
“That’s exceedingly kind, Admiral. Please return the compliment,” responded Kelly, pleased that Megan would find happiness.
They chatted about various issues as they drank the tea that had arrived, then Jenkins steered the conversation to their first meeting.
“Do you remember Dan, that we talked about deterrence?”
Kelly nodded.
“I do Admiral. I remember you talked about a different type of deterrence. One based on intelligence, with intervention if necessary.”
“Indeed Dan. That,
