‘I wondered that too, sir. But it wouldn’t be the sort of operation that’d need much rehearsal. Besides, the Irishman’s partner rigged the derailment in about three minutes. Our rail systems here must be more sophisticated than a freight line in rural Serbia.’
A bushy eyebrow rose, perhaps disputing that assumption. But M said, ‘You’re right. It doesn’t seem like a prelude to Incident Twenty.’
‘Now.’ Bond sat forward. ‘What I’d like to do, sir, is get back to Station Y immediately. Enter through Hungary and set up a rendition op to track down the Irishman. I’ll take a couple of our double-one agents with me. We can trace the lorry he stole. It’ll be tricky but-’
M was shaking his head, rocking back in his well-worn throne. ‘It seems there’s a bit of a flap, 007. It involves you.’
‘Whatever Belgrade’s saying, the young agent who died-’
M waved a hand impatiently. ‘Yes, yes,
‘Sorry, sir.’
‘I’m speaking of something else. Last night, Cheltenham managed to get a satellite image of the lorry the Irishman escaped in.’
‘Very good, sir.’ So, his tracking tactic had apparently succeeded.
But M’s scowl suggested Bond’s satisfaction was premature. ‘About fifteen miles south of Novi Sad the lorry pulled over and the Irishman got into a helicopter. No registration or ID but GCHQ got a MASINT profile of it.’
Material and Signature Intelligence was the latest in high-tech espionage. If information came from electronic sources like microwave transmissions or radio, it was ELINT; from photographs and satellite images, IMINT; from mobile phones and emails, SIGINT; and from human sources, HUMINT. With MASINT, instruments collected and profiled data such as thermal energy, sound waves, airflow disruption, propeller and helicopter rotor vibrations, exhaust from jet engines, trains and cars, velocity patterns and more.
The director-general continued, ‘Last night Five registered a MASINT profile that matched the helicopter he escaped in.’
Bloody hell… If MI5 had found the chopper, that meant it was in England. The Irishman – the sole lead to Noah and Incident Twenty – was in the one place where James Bond had no authority to pursue him.
M added, ‘The helicopter landed north-east of London at about one a.m. and vanished. They lost all track.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t see why Whitehall didn’t give us more latitude about operating at home when they chartered us. Would have been easy. Hell, what if you’d followed the Irishman to the London Eye or Madame Tussaud’s? What should you have done – rung 999? For God’s sake, these are the days of globalisation, of the Internet, the EU, yet we can’t follow leads in our own country.’
The rationale for this rule, however, was clear. MI5 conducted brilliant investigations. MI6 was a master at foreign intelligence gathering and ‘disruptive action’, such as destroying a terrorist cell from within by planting misinformation. The Overseas Development Group did rather more, including occasionally, if rarely, ordering its 00 Section agents to lie in wait for enemies of the state and shoot them dead. But to do so within the UK, however morally justifiable or tactically convenient, would play rather badly among bloggers and the Fleet Street scribblers.
Not to mention that the Crown’s prosecutors might be counted on to have a say in the matter as well.
But, politics aside, Bond adamantly wanted to pursue Incident Twenty. He’d developed a particular dislike for the Irishman. His words to M were measured: ‘I think I’m in the best position to find this man and Noah and to suss out what they’re up to. I want to keep on it, sir.’
‘I thought as much. And I
‘Consulting?’ Bond said sourly, then realised that M would have done some impressive negotiating to achieve that much. ‘Thank you, sir.’
M deflected the words with a jerk of his head. ‘You’ll be working with someone from Division Three, a fellow named Osborne-Smith.’
Division Three… British security and police operations were like human beings: forever being born, marrying, producing progeny, dying and even, Bond had once joked, undergoing sex-change operations. Division Three was one of the more recent offspring. It had some loose affiliation with Five, in much the same way that the ODG had a gossamer thin connection to Six.
While Five had broad investigation and surveillance powers, it had no arrest authority or tactical officers. Division Three did. It was a secretive, reclusive group of high-tech wizards, bureaucrats and former SAS and SBS tough boys with serious firepower. Bond had been impressed with its recent successes in taking down terrorist cells in Oldham, Leeds and London.
M regarded him evenly. ‘I know you’re used to having
‘Yes, sir.’
So, no longer
Another dour glance from M. ‘Now, a complication. That security conference.’
‘Security conference?’
‘Haven’t read your Whitehall briefing?’ M asked petulantly.
These were administrative announcements about internal government matters and, accordingly, no, Bond did not read them. ‘Sorry, sir.’
M’s jowls tightened. ‘We have thirteen security agencies in the UK. Maybe more as of this morning. The heads of Five, Six, SOCA, JTAC, SO Thirteen, DI, the whole lot – myself included – will be holed up in Whitehall for three days later in the week. Oh, the CIA and some chaps from the Continent too. Briefings on Islamabad, Pyongyang, Venezuela, Beijing, Jakarta. And there’ll probably be some young analyst in Harry Potter glasses touting his theory that the Chechnyan rebels are responsible for that damned volcano in Iceland. A bloody inconvenience, the whole thing.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll be largely incommunicado. Chief of staff will be running the Incident Twenty operation for the Group.’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll co-ordinate with him.’
‘Get on to it, 007. And remember: you’re operating in the UK. Treat it like a country you’ve never been to. Which means, for God’s sake, be diplomatic with the natives.’
9
‘It’s pretty bad, sir. Are you sure you want to see it?’
To the foreman, the man replied immediately. ‘Yes.’
‘Right, then. I’ll drive you out.’
‘Who else knows?’
‘Just the shift chief and the lad what found it.’ Casting a glance at his boss, the man added, ‘They’ll keep quiet. If that’s what you want.’
Severan Hydt said nothing.
Under an overcast and dusty sky, the two men left the loading bay of the ancient headquarters building and walked to a nearby car park. They climbed into a people-carrier emblazoned with the logo
