Blood Storm

'I'm not making any statement at this stage,' Tweed responded. 'But I think I'll investigate the case myself.'

'I wish you would. In your position you do have the authority. Hammer won't like it, but I don't like him. I hesitated to ask you – for certain reasons.' He stood up.

'Thanks for those reports from your agents abroad. Things seem quiet at the moment. I'd better get back now.'

'You're forgetting your cap,' Paula called out as he moved to the door.

'Oh, thank you.' He came back, picked up the cap. 'Lose my head if this pressure keeps up.' He walked over to her, his hand extended. 'I'm sorry about my attitude earlier, Paula. I was on edge when I arrived.'

She shook his hand, gave him a big smile. 'Aren't we all at times.'

'Roy,' Tweed asked, 'what sort of voice was it, whoever gave you the tip-off?'

'Unrecognizable. Hoarse. Coarse. Keep in touch.'

It was Harry, still crosslegged on the floor, who exploded the moment Buchanan was gone.

'It's that bloody uniform. What does he think he is these days? Admiral of the Fleet? The fleet we haven't got!'

Fifteen minutes later Tweed was checking through reports when the phone rang again. Monica answered, then gazed at Tweed.

'You won't believe this one either. Another visitor. Nelson Macomber, one of the notorious Cabal.'

5

'I think this gentleman would prefer to talk to me on our own,' Tweed said before asking Monica to invite Macomber up. 'Harry, put the recorder on – then you can all listen afterwards. No, Paula, don't go. I want you to stay. You're very good at getting an impression on a new player in this deadly game.'

Monica left to go upstairs, followed by Nield and Butler. Only then did he lift the phone and tell George, the guard in the hall, to ask their visitor to come up.

Macomber came into the office. He wore an Armani suit, and a tie Paula felt sure was Chanel. He moved easily and was smiling. He bowed his head towards Paula, still smiling. She rather liked the look of him.

'Good morning, Mr Macomber,' Tweed greeted him quietly. 'Do please sit down.'

'My apologies,' Macomber said softly, looking at Paula, 'but I will be speaking to you, Mr Tweed, in great confidence.'

'If I was away or out of action Miss Paula Grey would take over from me,' Tweed explained.

Macomber's reaction was swift. He stood up, and smiling pleasantly he walked over to Paula, held out his large hand to her.

'Miss Grey, my profound apologies. I am not familiar with the ranking here. You are most welcome to hear all I have to say.'

She clasped his hand which squeezed hers, but did not hold on too long. He returned to his chair. His movements were agile for a man she estimated was in his forties.

'Now, Mr Tweed,' Macomber began in his soft voice, 'I have heard you are a man who does not beat about the bush. So am I. I have come to discuss with you the proposed merger of all the security forces under one command. That is the CID, MI5, the police, the coastguard, Special Branch – and the SIS, your own organization. This single organization will be known as State Security. We are thinking you would make an excellent deputy commander.'

'Under whose control?' Tweed asked off-handedly.

He had listened to this revolutionary scheme with a placid expression. Paula, who was appalled, gasped under her breath. She felt sure Tweed would never agree.

'Under the control of a Cabinet Minister heading a new post in the Cabinet, as yet to be created: the Ministry of State Security.'

'Earlier,' Tweed remarked, 'you used the word "proposed". I am interested in what that means.'

'Well…' Still smiling, Macomber paused. 'At the moment a bill to establish this organization has been drafted, but not yet presented to Parliament.'

'All the Cabinet agree?' There was a sharper edge in Tweed's voice.

'Well…' Another pause. 'At the moment almost half the Cabinet do agree. It's only a matter of time before the slowcoaches come on board.'

'Mr Macomber…' Tweed leaned forward over his desk.

'Please call me Nelson.'

'I have heard there are three junior ministers involved. You are one of them. Who are the others?'

'You may find this curious. The other two are brothers of mine. We are offspring of the famous General Lucius Macomber, known for his brilliance in the Gulf War.'

'Tell me about your brothers – and their roles.'

Tweed had folded his arms, leaning over them. His eyes had never left Nelson Macomber's, penetrating and the colour of lapis lazuli, which was rare.

'There is Noel, the youngest. We call him the Planner. Then there is Benton, a year younger than me. He acts as arbiter in the rare cases when there is disagreement on policy.'

'The three of you,' Tweed said thoughtfully.

'We do work closely together in the same room…'

'Communications?' Tweed interjected.

'Ah!' Macomber beamed. 'We have the most advanced system in the country. State Security will need to know what is going on everywhere. Phone-tapping, a CCTV system covering the entire country…'

'Already installed?' Tweed interjected again.

'In the process of being installed,' Macomber assured him. 'Should be completed within weeks.'

'On whose authority?'

Macomber laughed, glanced over at Paula. 'This is getting to be an interrogation.'

'Which is my job,' Tweed reminded him. 'On whose authority?' he repeated. 'Since the bill you spoke of has not gone anywhere near Parliament.'

'We must be prepared.' Macomber's tone became defensive. 'So, what is your reaction? I have hidden no secrets from you.'

'I'll have to think it over, won't I? All this comes as a surprise.'

No, it doesn't, you wily thing, Paula thought. You knew all about it before Nelson Macomber ever arrived.

'Tell you what,' Tweed continued. 'In the near future I'd like to visit your HQ, meet your brothers. I'd bring Paula with me.'

'Great!' Macomber jumped up. 'I appreciate the time you've given me. Do come and see us soon. Time is breathing down our necks. Needless to say all this is highly confidential.'

'Uniforms,' Tweed said suddenly. Macomber paused on his way to say goodbye to Paula. He looked taken aback. Tweed explained.

'I just wondered whether you proposed that after the merger of all these diverse organizations everyone would wear the same uniform?'

'Well…' He was close enough to Paula for her to notice he was clenching and unclenching the fingers of his right hand. 'Bit early to think of that,' he went on cheerfully. 'We had thought of a long black coat, black cap, an armlet identifying the wearer as State Security. But a bit early to decide,' he repeated.

'I see.'

'May I call you Paula?' Macomber asked, holding out a hand. 'I am Nelson.'

'If you wish,' she said quietly, clasping his hand which, again, he withdrew quickly.

'What do you think?' Tweed asked after Macomber had left.

Paula was peering out of the window. 'He does well for himself. He turned up in a whacking great Merc with chauffeur.' She sat down again. 'I'm flabbergasted,' she began. 'I'd expected you to roar at him, tell him you thought the whole idea was wrong, mad – that you'd have nothing to do with it!'

'He's a skilled politician,' Tweed told her. 'I can handle any of them. When he reports back to his two brothers they won't be at all sure what I'm going to do.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'Everything in my power, however unscrupulous, to smash them – to destroy the whole plan.' His voice was a muted growl, his eyes were fierce. 'Strange that he came to see me a few hours after someone tried to frame me for committing a horrific murder. And they're already in uniform. So he lied.'