“Doctor, make sure that Europa terminal is functioning correctly. They’ll need her out there.”
“It’s working, sir. I’ll double-check it.”
“Thank you.”
The director was left alone. He stood and made his way to the large credenza in the corner and poured himself coffee and then returned to his chair and sat heavily into it. He picked up his phone and then hit one number. Through a series of screeches and bleeps, his call was finally connected. The face was the familiar one with the exception of his dress and his missing bow tie. Lord James Durnsford looked sleepy as he came fully awake.
“Niles, old man. Unlike you, us old sots like our sleep.”
“It’s officially on, James. The president has approved your request and my mission. I’ll leave it to you to deliver the bad news to Colonel Collins and our French friend.”
“Oh, delightful.”
Henri was looking at both Collins and Everett as if they had set him up for another fall as the trio was directed from the airstrip toward the command center of Her Majesty’s Naval Base in Portsmouth. They had been led into a very comfortable room and told to wait. When asked for what and for how long they had to do so, the Royal Navy marine guard just raised his brows in a your guess is as good as mine look.
“Maybe a little reward money for old, bad man Farbeaux?” Henri said sarcastically, not looking at either American.
“Relax, Henri. We already tried to ransom you off to any of them — MI6, Scotland Yard, the Rolling Stones — but alas, none were interested, so take it easy,” Carl said with his ever-present smile.
“If it’s any consolation, Henri, this was for you,” Jack said as he slapped a folded ticket onto Farbeaux’s arm.
The Frenchman looked at the ticket and then took it and opened it. It was a first-class British Airways ticket to his home in Tuscany. He looked from Jack to a grinning Everett.
“So, at least for that part of your little Egyptian sting, you were telling the truth,” Henri said, shaking his head. “May I use this now?” he asked with hope of excusing himself from the company of two men he admired but disliked very much.
Jack looked at his watch. “I don’t think that’s up to us any longer. It seems we have been diverted.”
Farbeaux let out an exasperated breath, and Jack decided to explain something the man needed to know.
“Henri, imagine that if Dr. Morales and Europa can find out just what it was you were up to in Egypt, how long would it be before the police in Alexandria, or even”—here, Jack looked around the room with its British Union Jack staring them down—“if MI6 caught on? You were there to steal something that wasn’t yours, and we just happened to need the cover of your enterprise in our recovery of American property.”
“The Egyptians hadn’t caught on because they don’t have the computing power that little maniac does at your little prairie dog burrow in Nevada.”
“Objection! Argumentative,” Carl said as he stretched his long legs out before him. “We like to think of it as our underground insane asylum.”
“For once, I agree,” Henri mumbled. “So, may I assume your little operation has hit somewhat of a snag, since we find ourselves virtually under arrest?”
Before Jack could tell Henri to relax once more, the door opened, and a familiar face poked in. Henri’s brows rose in worry as he saw it was Lord James Durnsford, the head of MI6. He stood and greeted the man they had met during the Overlord operation.
“Lord Durnsford, what brings you to Royal Navy jail?”
After taking Jack’s hand, the career intelligence man looked around the room, not understanding. Then he smiled and then chortled at Collins’s American humor.
“Royal Navy jail. Very good, Colonel, very good. But as you can see, just a boring little office filled with boring little men.” The portly nobleman nodded at a curious Everett and a suspicious Farbeaux. “I see our help in the recapture of this scallywag has paid off handsomely?” he said, smiling toward Farbeaux.
“Yeah, but in all actuality, Colonel Farbeaux holds a special place in our president’s heart, and ours also.”
“Yes, it seems we all owe a debt to many men and women — you and the captain here being two more of them. Gentlemen,” he said as he walked over and sat down in a chair and folded his fingers into themselves as he smiled uncomfortably. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a message flimsy and handed it to Jack. “That message explains to you the little mess science has recently, or not so recently, gotten us into.”
Collins exchanged looks with Carl and Henri. They both appeared to be listening, but both were also suspicious of one of the more brilliant spies in world history. One just never knew where it was Her Majesty’s intelligence services were coming from.
“Mess?” Jack asked.
“Yes, a rather big mess we haven’t quite figured out yet. Now, we here at MI6 know you are on detached service, Colonel, and you will never divulge your real duties to your country, but let’s just say we have suspected for quite some time who and what government entity you really work for.”
“I’m in the army, he’s in the navy, and he…” He paused when Henri smiled at him, waiting. “He, is, well, he just is.”
“Yes, of course you are.” His smile faded as he became serious. He leaned forward to emphasize what it was he was about to say. “What would you say, Colonel, that if we were to go digging into files from the old Soviet regime, and even in today’s rather aggressive Russian administration, we here in British intelligence may possibly have discovered an outfit that, not unlike the one you claim not to work for, and one that even rivals my own entity in this country, is quite active within the Russian government and has been for over eighty years? An entity run completely autonomously and without fear of Russian leadership?”
“I would say MI6 knows a little too much about friendly governments and not enough about the aggressive ones.” Jack didn’t care for British intelligence’s rather extensive guesswork on the Event Group.
“Good show, old boy. Good point.” He lost the smile. “Now, what would you say if one of the leadership of this mysterious group was now on his way to the very spot where the NATO resupply exercise Operation Reforger IV was just canceled, and they were heading there at high speed with one of the more lethal commando teams the world has ever seen in their company?”
“I would say let them fly off. What are they going to find, dumped garbage from the warships that had been in the area?” Carl chimed in, but he did sit up in his chair a little more erect.
“Normally, we would just observe, but this is not a normal situation as described by your president and your think tank under his leadership that is buried in some godforsaken desert somewhere, and the United States Navy, and all of NATO Northern Command.” Lord Durnsford stood up from his chair and placed his hands behind his back as he faced the Frenchman. “The president of the United States is calling in that favor, Colonel Farbeaux.”
“You mean calling in that favor for the fifth time in three years?” Henri said with a dirty look at Jack. “Owing him or any of these people is like owing money to the American mob: you never pay off that debt.”
“Yes, very good, Colonel. Now, it seems the security leadership of this mysterious Russian group, based somewhere we believe in the deepest, darkest, very much frozen wastelands of Siberia, has encountered you on more than one occasion. It seems you were even in this group’s custody at one point. Perhaps you know of whom I speak? Please, share what you know with Colonel Collins and Captain Everett. It may just come in handy.”