“I am here for an appointment with the Director of MI-6, Sir Robert John,” Igor stated, knowing it would probably sound like some type of joke to these agents. “If I’m not mistaken, isn’t his organization ranked somewhat higher than your MI-5 with you representing internal security, and him on a more national scale?”
The red head was already searching his garment bag with her skillful fingers, moving them carefully over his bags seams before locating the false compartment in its bottom.
“What, no appointment with the Queen?” she replied in jest.
“It’s no joke, miss. Call him yourself. I have his personal number in my bag,” Igor replied gruffly.
The redhead looked over to her counterpart, a smug look on her face. “Captain, why do you have a false panel in the bottom of your bag? And why,” holding up his pistol for the agent in the pinstripe suit to see, “does it contain a weapon?”
Igor smiled in response, wondering how long it would take a professional to locate his weapon. “I am, as you British say, on the clock, working a job.”
Still studying his bag, the redhead was able to come up with yet another false compartment, this one containing a 1/2-kilogram of Semtex and its accompanying detonator. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she said aloud. “And what the hell were you planning to do with this?” She gently placed the explosive clay on the table for display. “Call in some help, I want this man strip searched, X-rayed and then arrested.”
“Damn it,” Igor exclaimed. “Sir Robert is expecting me. You have to believe me. Call him yourself. His personal number is on a piece of paper in the false compartment. Just take the time and look would you!” The frustration was clearly evident in his voice.
No sooner had Igor finished his pleading when the inner door leading from the opposite hallway opened, revealing a slender, middle-aged man, attired in a worn plaid sport coat and accompanying slacks. The smell of pipe smoke entered with him. He had a genuine look of authority about him as he straightened his Royal Guards tie.
The man in the pin stripe suit quickly pulled out his standard issue 9mm, pointing it at the new visitor. “Who the hell are you, Mate? Identify yourself and be quick about it,” wondering how he had evaded the guard stationed outside the room.
The gentleman in the sport coat reached slowly for his inside coat pocket, stopping as the agent in the pin stripe suit proceeded to complete his movement for him, extracting his government issued identification.
“Let’s see who we have here shall we,” the agent in the pinstripe suit said before cursing under his breath, returning the gold embossed identification. “Sir Robert, I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience. I apologize for not recognizing you, sir. “
Sir Robert John nodded curtly to both agents. “No harm, you were only doing your job now weren’t you? If you could be so kind and please leave myself and the captain alone to discus some items of national security, it would be greatly appreciated.”
The agent with the red hair pointed to the weapon and the block of Semtex. “Wait a minute, Sir Robert. What about this stuff on the table? No matter who you are, we can’t let this come into the country.” She stubbornly stood her ground against England’s most powerful spymaster.
Sir Robert admired her for her perseverance. He removed his cell phone and dialed the head of MI-5. “Byron, its Sir Robert here. One of your people is having a hard time understanding the situation. Would you be so kind as to inform her of the ground rules?”
Sir Robert handed his phone to the attractive agent.
The agent listened in silence as the Director of MI-5 read her the riot act. After several minutes of an uncomfortable silence, she set the phone down in front of Sir Robert, nodding her thanks for its use.
She searched for the right words as she stood in front of Sir Robert, wondering if her career would be affected by her overzealous attitude. “I must apologize for my actions Sir Robert, this is your show. I was unaware up to this point. Please don’t hold my actions against the security service I work for, it’s not their fault.”
Sir Robert raised his hands to cut her off. “You were only doing your job. I must commend you on your actions. Good day to you both.”
Sir Robert ignored his seated guest for the moment, choosing to concentrate on his leather briefcase, removing a red folder with “Top Secret” emblazoned across its front in bold black lettering.
“Pardon me for being so rude,” said Sir Robert before reaching across the table to shake his hand. “Captain Igor Isinov, so nice to finally meet you.”
Igor was surprised at the strength of the older man’s grip.
“I have heard many good things about you from General Poszk. The General says you are his proverbial ace in the hole when it comes to operations such as we have here,” he pointed to the folder that lay in front of him. “Do you have any idea why General Poszk asked you to see me during your layover in London?”
Igor sat casually looking about the room, bracing himself for the unexpected. “No sir, but I am sure you will be informing me of something very interesting and soon.” He allowed a slight smile to escape. “It’s been that type of day.”
Sir Robert could see they would get along famously, admiring his levity for the moment. “You are correct, Captain,” suppressing his own need to smile as he rose from the table. “General Poszk has many enemies in his own government,” walking over to inspect a tourism poster for the upcoming Shakespeare Festival in Stratford-upon-Avon. “He could not trust the information to be spoken on Russian soil,” turning back around to face Igor. “The walls have ears is another way of stating what he could not say. His every move is scrutinized by his enemies internal to your own government; he even told me that both his office and private home are under constant electronic surveillance. Poor chap.”
“I was aware the General had enemies but not on so great of a magnitude,” Igor replied. He wondered if his own home was bugged due to his close dealings with the general. Igor thought about calling his wife when his meeting with Sir Robert adjourned. That thought quickly dashed due to the possibility of the phone also being bugged.
Sir Robert realized the time was right. He was adhering to General Poszk’s strict guidance, one that if he did not immediately concur with the decision to send Captain Isinov to the United States, he could send one of his own people in his place. Having read and then dissected the captain’s personnel folder, he concurred with the general’s selection. They required a covert soldier and most importantly, according to the general—a man beyond trustworthy.
Sir Robert walked back to his leather briefcase, extracting a recent tour guide of Israel, one with a bright color picture of the Temple Mount on its cover. He casually tossed it across to Igor.
“Something is up your sleeve Sir Robert, and I feel General Poszk has volunteered my services for another type of mission.” Igor now wondered what the hell he was getting himself into.
Sir Robert stood at the opposite side of the table, dismissing his comment with a sly grin. “Captain, have you ever been to Israel on holiday or possibly for a work related cause?” Sir Robert knew full well that Russia had numerous spies in the state of Israel, this with the ongoing exodus of Russian emigrants to Israel.
“I never had the pleasure, Sir Robert, but it is on my to-do list when I retire some day.”
Sir Robert decided to sit down beside Igor instead of across from him, in effect not preaching down to him. After all, they were now team members. In his line of business, he always tried to intimidate, whether it was politicians nipping away at his budget or surly supervisors trying to unseat him. Not in this case, the Captains exploits and skills spoke volumes about the man and Sir Robert was an excellent judge of character.