Later, back inside DUMPY, Swan stood talking to some senior heads of government as they quizzed him on what had happened with Allenby. Then, promising a full report, he found Arthur Gable talking with his son and another man.
‘How are you, old boy?’ he enquired.
Gable explained he was feeling better and grateful for the tea. Swan then stared at the man who was standing next to Andrew Gable, as he was introduced.
‘Alex, this is Jack Rowse, also from the Foreign Office.’
Swan shook his hand.
‘Nasty business with Christopher, the inspector here has just been telling me all about it, and Mr Gable said it has something to do with the murder of that RAF chap. This female assassin, she set up the murder to look like the work of EOKA B?’
Swan nodded. ‘She did indeed, and Allenby was behind it.’
Rowse then paused as if about to say more.
‘There’s something I need to tell you chaps, something that has been on my mind for the last couple of weeks. Funny enough, this sudden business about EOKA B has reminded me of it all again.’
Everyone listened, as Rowse informed him of the strange meeting he had had with Allenby and his assignment to deliver the document to the SBA commander on Cyprus.
‘I was called into Allenby’s office, and he informed me, as a matter of emergency, I was being sent to deliver it. There was a plane waiting to take me to Akrotiri. During the flight, we were struck in the engine by a large bird, so the pilot told me that we were diverting to Gibraltar. That’s when I hitched a ride with the crew who were taking an old Shackleton to Nicosia. A transport was going to meet me there to take me on to Akrotiri.’
Rowse went on to explain what happened when they had arrived at the international airport.
Alex Swan was suddenly intrigued. ‘So, what was this document all about?’
‘It’s called the Ankara Agreement. Basically, it stated that both Sovereign Base Areas on Cyprus were to be used by the Turkish Forces once they had overcome opposition. It also stated that the British were to grant them access to land their planes during the first phase of what has been called Operation Attila.
‘Did you tell Allenby you had seen it?’
Rowse sighed. ‘Well, there’s the thing. I informed him of what happened, but for fear of my job, didn’t tell him that I had read it. I just told him I had hidden it well inside the aircraft.’
‘And, what did he say?’
‘Not much, he just told me to keep it between me and him for now, but he didn’t look too happy about it.’
‘So where did you hide it?’
‘I hid it inside the pilot’s seat. As we watched the paratroopers coming down, I saw a rip at the bottom, and as we were heading out to meet the Turkish soldiers, I folded it and placed it right up inside. I’m hoping it’s still there.’
Arthur Gable interrupted. ‘Good grief, Alex, if the Turks get wind of this, there could be all-out war between them and Greece, let alone Britain getting the flack for it all.’
Rowse shook his head. ‘We can’t let that happen, it will only get worse. NATO could lose their control of the southern flank and allow the Soviets to dominate the Middle East. They’ll control the Suez and, you all know what that could mean, gentlemen?’
Swan knew exactly what it could mean. ‘They’ll hold the West to ransom over the oil, which could very much lead to another war.’
Andrew Gable shot a glance at the courier from the Foreign Office. ‘But this agreement isn’t true, is it? Allenby set this up. Question is, why? What does Allenby hope to gain, by putting the West into a direct global conflict with the Russians? Unless he’s totally insane.’
Swan agreed. ‘There’s only one thing for it, gentlemen. We have to keep this to ourselves and try and recover this document before it is discovered.’
Rowse agreed. ‘But that will mean going to Nicosia International Airport during this ceasefire. So, let us for God’s sake hope that it holds long enough so we can get our hands on it.’ He suddenly had a thought. ‘How are we going to find an excuse to go to Nicosia airport, board an old RAF Shackleton, and retrieve the document? Surely the RAF will have something to say about it?’
Swan smiled. ‘Leave that to me. I have a friend who might just be able to help us with that. Anyway, I can’t go just yet. I have to first follow another lead in London.’ He turned to his colleague. ‘Arthur, let’s get back to the office. I will also need to contact Sir Alistair and then, this evening, take a trip to Knightsbridge to have a few words with an old adversary.’ Swan shook hands with Rowse and Andrew Gable. ‘Goodbye chaps — for now, at least.’
Andrew Gable followed him. ‘Alex, are you sure you are okay? You did take a nasty whack on the back with that propeller?’
Swan nodded. ‘It throbs a bit Andrew, but I think it will be alright.’
Arthur Gable whispered to his son, telling him that Swan’s wife, Janet, wouldn’t have the same view and Arthur could see her marching his colleague to hospital when they got back.
The policeman shook Swan’s hand again, commenting the events of today were certainly a big change from the sheep rustling and bicycle thefts he usually got to deal with.
‘I really hope that someday I get the chance to work with you chaps again.’
Swan smiled, commending his colleague’s son for his help. ‘You make a damn good field operative, Andrew.’
On the drive away from Dover Castle, Swan turned to his colleague. ‘I must say, you scared me a bit, back there, old chap.’
Gable sighed. ‘Scared myself as well. Alex. Perhaps I’m getting too old for all this.’
Swan decided to change the subject. ‘Certainly doing some jet-setting this week, Arthur. First Portugal and now Cyprus.’
Part 2
Doris
Chapter 21
After a voyage across the Atlantic, the Tench-class submarine, now disguised as the Achilles, had finally reached the Azores and slowly moved towards the early morning lights of Ponta Delgada.
Murphy and Crossman stood on the platform at the top of the sail, surveying the rocky coastline with its scattering of red-roofed white houses. They had just received a message from below, informing them that the harbour pilot launch was on its way to greet them, and would escort them into one of the few commercial berths at the port.
Ten minutes later, Crossman picked out the small blue and white craft as it sped towards them. Murphy gave the order to the engine room of ‘all engines slow’ in order to accommodate the escort.
The two men had decided their crew deserved a day of shore leave, before their expected departure the following morning.
The pilot boat slowed alongside them and a man in smart uniform saluted from the door of the cabin. Murphy gave a return salute and nodded as the Portuguese harbour officer gestured for the sub to follow them in. The launch suddenly increased its speed and, manoeuvring a half circle, sped past the submarine again to take up position on the front port side where it slowed to match the speed of its guest and acting like a tour guide, coaxed them towards the harbour entrance.
The earlier inspection by the port authority official had gone to plan. After checking the documents were all in order, Crossman had given him a quick tour of the submarine and content with what he had seen, the official had departed with a signature and a shake of hands.
There would be no need to inspect the submarine again. The documents having confirmed the false details of the awaited cargo, were in perfect order and the authorities had departed back onto the quayside.