Adrian Magson - Deception

‘Are you suggesting she’s a sleeper?’ Ballatyne had caught on fast.

‘It’s possible. But if she is, why leave such a prime position if she didn’t have to? It’s a waste of an asset.’

There was another pause before Ballatyne said, ‘All I can say is, she had a spotless record, with exemplary conduct. But then,’ he continued, ‘if she was a sleeper, her controllers would have made sure of her legend, wouldn’t they?’

The legend — the cover story for operatives working undercover. It had to be good enough to stand up to rigorous examination, with enough strands of truth to sound convincing, yet not so many that a reasonable check would reveal unexplained holes. If Tan was a spy, her legend must have been exceptional, given the position she had achieved. Either she was genuinely clean and original or she was the cleverest insert anyone had ever put in place.

‘Whether original or a plant,’ Ballatyne pointed out, ‘we still have a problem: a person of importance has gone missing. What we don’t know is how much she has taken with her or how much she may have already passed on.’

He was right. If a foreign power had managed to strike gold by placing an asset in Tan’s position, they wouldn’t sit back for long without taking delivery of every nugget they could get their hands on. And neither would the Protectory.

‘There’s another point bugging me.’

‘Only one?’

‘How does the Protectory get a line on the deserters, and how do they identify who’s a talent and who isn’t?’

‘That’s been worrying us, too. So far I don’t like the answers we’re getting. I’ll keep you informed. Anything else?’

‘Yes. The American McCreath referred to as “Turp”. I’m guessing he’s a deserter like Deakin. There can’t be too many One-oh-One Airborne men out there on the run. Do you know who we can ask?’

‘You need to speak to the Army Deserter Information Point at Fort Knox. A Major Kenwin Dundas. He’s been cleared to help you.’ He gave Harry the relevant telephone and fax numbers to call. Harry was impressed. It showed Ballatyne had been listening carefully to McCreath and had already prepared the way for him to make contact.

‘There’s just one thing,’ Ballatyne continued. ‘If Tan is a sleeper, I think we can be fairly sure it isn’t the Guoanbu running her.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘We’ve had an interesting circular bulletin from German Counterintelligence. A “person of interest” named Wien Lu Chi has been staying at a luxury hotel in Bremen for a few days. The reason he was noticed was that a member of the German parliament was staying there with a young woman who is not his wife, and they were keeping a close watch to keep the press away. Wien Lu Chi happened to pop up on the radar. He’s a known middleman for the Chinese and a few select Middle Eastern clients, usually dealing in arms and weapons technology. Nobody knows why he was in the country, but it’s a safe bet he was up to no good. If the Chinese are running Tan, they wouldn’t need him to be involved — they’d deal direct.’

‘I take it there’s been no sighting of her in the area?’

‘No. They’ve interviewed the staff and bugged his room, but nothing has shown up yet.’ He paused, and Harry picked up on it.

‘There’s a but in there.’

‘There is. Wien Lu Chi received two visitors in the hotel before the Germans could get a bug in place. One American, one British. They left no names but the watchers got a look at the hotel’s CCTV system.’ Ballatyne’s voice contained a smile. ‘One of the men was Thomas Deakin.’

It was nearly eight in the evening before Harry was able to pin down Major Dundas at Fort Knox. When he finally came on, the officer sounded efficient and brisk, yet there was an undertone of reserve, as though he was not altogether pleased at having to assist a British subject about an American deserter. Harry put it down to pride and launched into his request.

‘Sorry to bother you with this, Major,’ he said smoothly, after an exchange of names and positions, ‘but we have reason to believe that one of yours is helping channel British deserters to new identities and lives in exchange for information.’

‘What kind of information?’

‘The sensitive kind: technology, security, intelligence, armaments. . anything they can sell.’

‘They?’

‘A group called the Protectory.’ Harry gave him a summary of what they knew without adding any names. ‘They approach deserters from strategic regiments or specialist units and offer a deal: a new life in exchange for whatever information they will trade.’

‘Sounds quite a scheme, Mr Tate. And where do they sell this “strategic” information?’

‘To the highest bidder. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who they are.’ Harry wondered if he was getting through to this man. Dundas sounded less than enthused. His next words confirmed why.

‘I guess you don’t at that. Thing is, these are British military personnel, right?’

‘That’s right, but-’

‘Selling British military data?’ The level of interest had dropped instantly and the implied focus for Dundas was clear: a British problem remained just that. British, not American.

‘We don’t know that for sure,’ said Harry, who understood his reasoning, ‘or how long it may last. One of their targets said he was introduced to an American working with the group. He was wearing a One-oh-One Airborne tattoo, eagle’s head and banner, and was referred to as “Turp”. We suspect this man is high up in the pecking order.’

‘Well, sir,’ Dundas replied eventually, ‘I can tell you now, there are more men out there wearing the flying eagle tattoos than ever served in airborne. Same with Vietnam vets who wear the right tags and tell all the right stories. Some of them never even enlisted, but they like to claim some kind of credit on the backs of the men who did. What makes you think this Turp character is for real, anyway?’ His voice had drifted off now from professionally interested to openly sceptical.

‘It takes a soldier to recognize another one, Major. The target thought he was real enough.’

‘That doesn’t mean he’ll target American personnel.’ The response was automatic, and Harry wondered what it said about Major Dundas’s open-mindedness to the men and women he was responsible for processing — or his perspective on America’s military partners.

‘If he does, they’ll have a field day. You want to bet against them coming across another Bradley Manning?’

The line clicked and buzzed as Dundas digested the implications of that. It was a brutal argument to use, but the revelations that a member of the US army had systematically released classified information which eventually found its way on to the Internet had been a hard pill for the military establishment to swallow, and the reverberations were likely to go on for years. Even someone like Dundas must know that it could happen again.

Before the major could put him off, Harry continued, ‘All I’m asking, Major, is if you would be good enough to get one of your staff to see if the name Turp comes up in your records. Then we can close off that avenue of investigation. It sounds like an abbreviation of a real name to me, wouldn’t you think?’

There was a lengthy pause. Harry was counting on Dundas, sceptical or not, finding it hard to refuse such a simple request.

‘I guess that’s true, Mr Tate. Let me put you on to our Lieutenant Garcia and she’ll run a quick check. I sure hope you find what you’re looking for. You have a nice day, now.’ There was a click and Dundas was gone as suddenly as he had come on. His voice was replaced by a young woman’s, asking how she could help.