The Englishman shook his head. ‘That’s all well and good Donovan, but the way you’ve gone about it isn’t exactly above board, is it? Alex Swan said that it’s all been a deception to annex the Greeks completely from Cyprus. Had my men and I carried out your operation against the Greek army, it would have caused a riot, enough for us to have to leave the sovereign bases, and for your guy in the disguised submarine to justify sinking our carrier. The Greeks would be forced out, then the Turks, under American support, would move in and you would have your super-base in the eastern Mediterranean.’
Tremaine studied the man who sat opposite him, unnervingly pointing his own gun at him. ‘Well, it looks like Swan really did know his stuff.’ He rose slowly from his desk. ‘So, how about that money I was talking about?’
Reynolds waved the gun. ‘Just a minute, Donovan, let’s not be too hasty. I need you to do something for me first. There’s a typed letter in your typewriter, I would like you to sign. Call it insurance. When I leave here, I’m hoping I won’t have to worry about any contracts that you might take out on me.’
Tremaine glanced over at the typewriter on another desk in the room. He walked over, pulled the piece of paper from the carriage and read it. Afterwards, he raged at the English mercenary. ‘You son of a bitch! I had no part in Watergate!’
Reynolds shook the pistol in his hand. ‘How are you going to prove it? The biggest scandal to ever rock the American presidency. All those faithful presidential officials who were found guilty… One more name won’t be out of place in having to answer questions before Congress, will it Donovan?’
Tremaine was outraged. ‘I will not sign for something I had nothing to do with.’
‘Then, we’ll do it the hard way, and I will put this gun of yours inside your own lying mouth. Your choice, senator. So what is it to be?’
Tremaine shuddered. ‘You kill me, Reynolds and, you don’t get a God-damned dime from my safe.’
Reynolds laughed. ‘Oh, you Americans are so predictable. How did I know you would try and play that one on me? Well, Donovan, I have an answer to that, and it’s these three numbers… 45-12-32.’
Tremaine’s eyes widened in recognition at the combination for his safe. He swore at the Englishman, cursing him. ‘How the hell did you get that?’
Reynolds took on a serious tone. ‘One of my men who was killed in Cyprus, Seppy Meyer, was an expert safe cracker. He taught me a few tricks, and once I found your safe behind that painting of Gettysburg you have in your study, I was happy that it happened to be of the same make as the one he taught me how to open. So yes, I have your money, and if you sign that and hand it over, I will then leave you to your devious little life.’
Tremaine let out a defeated sigh. ‘Well, I guess that I don’t have any choice.’
‘No, you don’t, do you Donovan?’
Tremaine took his gold ink pen, scribed his signature at the bottom of the letter and handed it to Reynolds who checked it, then smiled.
‘Thank you, Donovan. Well, that’s me done, I’ll be on my way now.’
He held up Tremaine’s pistol. ‘I’ll be throwing this into the lake, so if you want it back, you’ll have to swim out and get it.’
Tremaine stared coldly as the Englishman turned his back and headed for the French doors.
‘Just one thing, Reynolds. One of these days, when Watergate is ancient history, I am going to find you, and when I do, you’re a dead man. Do you hear me, you limey son of a bitch?’
Reynolds halted at the door, looked at the gun and shook his head. ‘Do you know something, Donovan? I think you most probably would do that.’ He turned to face him and with darkness in his eyes, waved the letter at him.
‘That’s what makes you the true scumbag, you really are.’ Reynolds put down the holdall. ‘And I’ve spent my entire life getting rid of scumbags.’
Chapter 39
That same afternoon at the Foreign Office in Whitehall, Jack Rowse sat opposite the foreign secretary in his office. Smoking a cigarette, he sat in silence as the secretary read through his report. When he had finished, he looked across at him in sheer disbelief.
‘Are you saying that this whole affair has been a deceptive operation by the yanks, and that Christopher was part of it?’
Rowse nodded. ‘That’s exactly the report I’m filing, sir.’
The secretary shook his head. ‘What a mess! What with murder, the hiring of mercenaries, and not to mention that disguised submarine with some Irish-American lunatic, hell-bent on revenge for Bloody Sunday. Unbelievable!’
Rowse agreed. ‘From what we learned from this mercenary, David Reynolds, was that our special friends across the pond were behind the whole thing.’
The Secretary shrugged. ‘Well, it’s unfortunate Allenby is still in that coma. We could learn a lot about all this. Mind you, Lord knows what would have happened to him, if he wasn’t.’
Rowse remembered something else. ‘Sir, this Russian sub that destroyed the USS Hatcher. How do you think they became involved?’
The Secretary waved a hand. ‘Well, I suppose there must have been a leak somewhere. Any suggestions, Jack?’
Rowse shook his head. ‘Afraid not, sir. Alex Swan has a theory, but it’s almost too incredible to believe.’
The Secretary shifted in his seat. ‘Well, let’s have it then?’
Rowse hesitated. ‘Well, sir, he thinks Allenby could be involved.’
The secretary laughed. ‘Chris Allenby, a Soviet mole? I’m afraid Mr Swan may have some delusions of grandeur! Wait until I tell Hugo Davies about this, when I meet with him this evening to talk about the security for the MRCA. Soviet mole indeed! Whatever next?’
Rowse gave an uncomfortable smile. ‘Well, maybe you’re right, sir.’
The Secretary placed the report in his desk drawer.
‘So, what happens now, sir?’
‘Business as usual, Jack. Which brings us onto matters regarding the position of a new deputy foreign secretary, temporary of course, until a permanent replacement for Allenby can be appointed.’ He smiled at Rowse. ‘So, Jack. How about helping me out in the role for a while? Who knows… if after the trial period you’ve turned out okay, maybe we can think about making it more permanent.’
Rowse shook the secretary’s hand. ‘I’ll be delighted to take the role, sir.’
The secretary beamed. ‘That settles it, then. You start on Monday. Oh, and get your case packed, you’re off to Geneva. Another meeting on Cyprus, I’m afraid. By the way, bloody good job you did over there, well done. Now, I need a favour. Could you pop over to the MOD and collect the things that Davies wants for our meeting? Thorough chap, is old Hugo. Seems to want everything: specifications, blueprints, construction reports, et cetera. Anyway, it’s all waiting for you to collect from the Air Office. Try not to lose anything on the way back, will you? We wouldn’t want any spies, who could be taking a stroll down Whitehall, picking up highly secret documents about Europe’s next warplane, would we?’
‘No, we wouldn’t, sir.’
Rowse thanked him and rose to leave. He was almost at the door when the secretary called him back.
‘Jack, just one more thing. This Ankara Agreement? Why don’t we just leave it all where it lies right now, shall we? At the bottom of the Med.’
Rowse suddenly understood. ‘Very well, sir,’ he replied, then walked out of the office.