‘I ran into the man you hired while I was in Cyprus. He told me all about you and your boss, how you squealed to the Moroccan General in exchange for your life. You see, Mr Everard, this man who apprehended you, he was actually a good friend of David Reynolds. Reynolds arranged that he kidnap you in Marrakech to find out more information about the operation, including who was really behind it.’ He turned his eyes to the big man across the desk. ‘Turns out this little charade was successful.’
Tremaine gave Everard a hard stare. ‘For Christ’s sake, Nick! You idiot. Fancy falling for a stunt like that. Anyway, I still do not know what you are talking about. I had nothing to do with this death you mentioned.’
Swan bowed his head. ‘Funny thing is, Donovan, I had a feeling you would act in this way, if I chose to come straight to the point. I am of course talking about Squadron Leader Danvers, the man you commissioned Miss Sapphira Menendez, aka the Praying Mantis, to assassinate in London.’
Tremaine looked back at Everard. ‘Do you know anything about this, Nick?’
Everard shook his head.
It was at this point that Swan realised his task was going to be difficult. ‘Okay, let’s put this another way and talk about the Ankara Agreement instead, shall we, gentlemen?’
Tremaine’s eyes widened. ‘What do you know about this, Mr Swan?’
‘Well, I know it was a deceptive document to hand over the British SBAs to the Turks. This, of course, would give them control over the island and the little agreement — whatever it was — you have with them would bear some fruit. You see, Christopher Allenby is still in a coma. However, his special envoy, whom he sent to deliver the agreement to the commander in chief on Cyprus, had a run-in with Turkish paratroopers when he landed at Nicosia. That envoy read the agreement and kept it hidden. I have also seen it.’
‘So, where is it now?’ Tremaine asked.
‘At the bottom of the Mediterranean, I expect. Yes, that brings me onto another part of your plan. Reynolds was hired to cause a little havoc with the Greek army and being supplied with British arms and kit, would have the Greeks think the British had mounted the operation. This would of course have caused them to treat us as hostile and pro-Turkish. I have to admit, the episode with the submarine was a stroke of genius. If it had succeeded in sinking the British carrier, then we would have been forced into handing the bases over to the Turks and withdrawing from the island. Your Ankara Agreement would be signed, and whatever the deal you had with them would have happened. By the time the British government knew this document was bogus, it would be too late. Turkey would have complete sovereignty.’
Tremaine puffed on his cigar. ‘Do you realise what you have done, Swan? You’ve given the Soviets a foothold in the Middle East. If the Greeks annex Cyprus, they will side with the Russians and NATO’s southern flank will be under threat. We can’t allow that to happen.’
Swan pondered for a few moments. ‘Of course, the oil routes would be seized and under Soviet control. So, it sounds to me, you planned a deal to have some sort of permanent aircraft carrier, built on the island, to protect these interests?’
‘You guessed right. Your own government would see this as the right thing to do, as well.’
Swan nodded. ‘You may be right, but I do not think they would agree to the way you would have made this possible. They certainly would not have endorsed the murder and deception tactics, that’s for sure.’
Tremaine shook his head. There had always been a possibility this man sitting in front of him would be a threat to Liberty Roost, now there was no doubt. He had even escaped the assassin’s bullet that had his name on it. The senator was now tired of this Englishman and needed to get him out of his sight. ‘Is there anything else that I can help you with today, Mr Swan?’
‘Well, apart from asking you to resign your post as senator before I take this matter up with your Secretary of State, I don’t think there is any more to say.’
The senator smiled at Everard. ‘And what makes you think that I will do that, Mr Swan? I don’t think you understand the extent of this, do you?’
‘Why don’t you enlighten me then, Senator?
‘I am head of the Cyprus crisis committee. That means that my Commander in Chief has given me free rein to do whatever is necessary to prevent this crisis from getting any worse.’
‘And, that includes murder and deception does it?’
Tremaine shot another glance at Everard. ‘Who said anything about murder or deception, Mr Swan? Nick, do you know anything about this?’
Everard shook his head. ‘No, Senator.’
‘Then I think Mr Swan here is mistaken in what he is saying, don’t you?’
Swan stared at him. This man had been just as he expected him to be — arrogant, devious — but there was also something else about him, something that caused the Englishman to wonder if the senator was being used by another source. He glanced at Tremaine’s right hand… and nodded at confirmation of his theory. On board the assault carrier, he had been thinking the same thing, before the helicopter flight to Akrotiri.
Tremaine ruffled some papers on his desk and stubbed out his cigar. ‘I’m sorry that we can’t help you further, Mr Swan. So, I suggest that you take yourself back on the plane to England.’
He looked at his watch. ‘If you go now, you may just be lucky enough to catch the Mid-day flight.’
Swan rose from his seat. ‘I am sure I can find some way of pinning this on you, Donovan.’
Tremaine rested back into his chair.
‘You’re forgetting something, Swan. This government has just witnessed the biggest scandal in our political history. I think to bring this up now, would be seen as just another useless attempt at hitting a man when he’s already down. You have no proof, no document — nothing.’
He turned to Everard. ‘Nick, see Mr Swan out. Have a nice day, Alex and, a pleasant trip back to London.’
Swan picked up his briefcase, then paused to look back at them. ‘Oh, by the way, have you gentlemen ever heard of an outlawed society known as The Eagle’s Lance? It’s just that I was wondering why both of you no longer wear a ring on your right middle finger?’
He smiled at them. ‘Have a nice day, gentlemen.’
After a light lunch, Swan already had planned his next move. While being debriefed by Stratton at Leconfield House, on his return from Cyprus, the MI5 head of section had talked with him about the best way to tackle this situation, advising Swan that he may find himself running head-first into a brick wall. He had then mentioned something that Swan was all too familiar with.
During the Watergate scandal, an informant known only as ‘Deep Throat’ had been secretly meeting with one of the reporters from The Washington Post, and it was from this clandestine source, most of the published stories came.
Stratton had left that thought with the SID man as they had said goodbye in London.
From the small restaurant where Swan had taken lunch, he walked a few blocks to the headquarters of The Washington Post.
Stepping through the double doors into the foyer, he approached a smartly-dressed young woman at the reception desk.
‘Can I help you, sir?’
Swan smiled at her. ‘Good afternoon. I have something I would like to leave for one of your reporters,’
The girl gave him a curious stare. She then reached for her telephone.
‘I’m sure I can get you to see someone, there should be someone at their desk, right now, I could just give the Newsroom a call to see if anyone’s free at the moment?’