‘You too, bro. How y’doin?’ said Jack. Then looking around the office continued, ‘and very nice digs by the way.’
Mathew nodded. ‘Yes, it’s not bad at all. You haven’t been in here before have you?’
‘No. Not since you were promoted. How’s that going by the way?’
‘Same shit, grander title.’
Jack smiled. ‘Well, just one more step and you’ll be Director General, mate. Then the knighthood eh?’
Mathew frowned. ‘Not too sure about the knighthood, Jack. We are, after all, still commoners. We never went to the right schools.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But I’m still counting on my little brother to uphold the family honour and pick up a ‘Sir’ at some point.’
They both laughed.
‘Have a seat,’ said Mathew, ‘how’s Nicole and my beautiful nieces?’
‘A handful as usual,’ smiled Jack, ‘the twins are almost three now.’
‘I know. I haven’t seen them for ages. Soon as I get some time I’ll come out for the weekend.’
‘They always love to see Uncle Matt. And Nicole sends her love.’
Mathew smiled, then took a seat across from his brother.
It had taken over two hours to get from Jack’s Berkshire home, in East Monkton, to Mathew’s office and he was eager to know why his brother had asked him to come. ‘So, what’s the problem this time, Matt?’
‘What, no more small talk, Jack?’
Jack leaned forward. ‘You look tired, bro, and I’m sure you want to get right to business. You never ask me here unless you want me to help with something. So, what’s up?’
The knock on the door was answered with a, ‘Come in,’ from Mathew. ‘Thanks Victoria.’
The tea tray was placed in the table between the couches. ‘Anything else, sir?’
Mathew smiled. ‘Unless it’s the DG, hold my calls for the next hour, please.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Mathew sat back in the big leather Chesterfield. ‘Okay. As usual, anything we say here is always top secret, but this one is exceptionally sensitive, Jack.’
Jack took a sip of the steaming tea, then said, ‘I’m all ears, Matt.’
Chapter Fifteen
‘SIR ANTHONY RESIGNS’ said the Daily Mail. ‘GRAINGER ILL’ said The Telegraph. ‘PM LOSES CLOSEST ALLY’ said The Times.
Lady Olivia Grainger looked across the breakfast table at her husband. ‘You must eat something, darling.’
Sir Anthony looked gaunt and pale. His usual upbeat demeaner gone. There was a deep frown across his forehead as he read The Times editorial. ‘Just tea this morning, Livvie.’
‘The PM said there was no need for you to resign, darling. No one blames you for what happened.’
He folded the newspaper and dropped it on the floor. ‘No one?’
‘Please, Anthony, eat something.’
He stood up from the table and went to the window. There were still over a dozen reporters and cameramen out in the street. The young police officer just managing to keep them away from the steps in front of the elegant building.
As he looked out she heard him sigh. ‘I’ve been tired of late, Livvie, and thinking of leaving government for some time. This has just been the catalyst, darling. And hardly my finest hour.’
‘For God sake, Anthony, any man would have done the same with their families at risk.’
‘That’s what the PM said.’
‘Well then, why on earth…’
He turned and raised his hand slightly, stopping her in mid-sentence. ‘It’s alright, Olivia. Really, it’s all right.’
‘I’m worried about you, Anthony. You really will make yourself ill’.
He looked at his wife. ‘Well then what’s in the papers will be true.’
‘Darling I…’
‘Please, Olivia, just let it go. Everything is going to be fine.’
He took out the pocket watch from his waistcoat. ‘My car will be here shortly.’
‘Have him come around to the mews entrance. You don’t need to face those people at the front.’
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, my darling, I’ll be fine.’
He took the jacket from the back of the chair and slipped it on. Turning to the big Ormolu mirror he adjusted his tie and waistcoat. ‘How do I look?’ he said with a smile.
Lady Grainger stood and put her arms around him. She held on for several seconds, then looked up into his eyes. ‘I love you, my darling.’
‘I love you too, Livvie.’
In the hallway he picked up his briefcase and went to the door. He stood for several seconds and then took a deep breath. As the door opened the pack of reporters rushed the steps, pushing aside the young constable. Grainger put his shoulders back and waited until Gary, and his driver forced their way through the mob of yelling journalists. With little regard for the news people the two burly security officers manoeuvred their charge through the clamouring mob and into the waiting Jaguar.
As the big car pulled away from the house Grainger said, ‘Thank you gentlemen and good morning.’
‘Morning, sir,’ said the driver over his shoulder.
Gary turned and smiled. ‘Good morning, Sir Anthony. Last day then, sir?’
Grainger looked out the window and across Green Park. ‘Afraid so, Gary, last day indeed.’
The security officer turned again, the smile gone. ‘I wish you’d let me come to Faslane with you, sir.’
Chapter Sixteen
Jack’s meeting with Mathew had been a revelation. He could not believe what his brother was saying. The Secretary of Defence gives terrorists access to a British nuclear submarine. Weapons systems breached. Three billion pounds paid.
‘Jesus Christ, Mathew! Is this for real? Don’t answer that, of course it is. You’d never bloody joke about something like this. And nothing in the papers?’
‘Full national security blackout on this one, Jack.’
‘So, was Grainger sacked?’
‘Not privy to that. Sacked or resigned, either way he was finished. His failing health is obviously a cover story for the bloody press.’
Jack leaned back in the big Chesterfield and shook his head. ‘This is unbelievable.’
Mathew grinned. ‘They do say truth is stranger than fiction.’
‘Yeah, I guess so. Okay, Mr Head of MI6. Why am I here?’
Mathew stood and went to his desk. He returned with a leather folder marked EYES ONLY. Jack grinned at the wording, and said, ‘Here we go again.’
‘The PM is monitoring this operation personally. If this gets out it’s not just her job. It will bring down the government. She wants retribution. She’s told the Director General that all assets are to be brought to bear, to capture or kill the people behind this attack.’
Jack grinned again. ‘She actually said that? Capture or kill?’
‘Probably not in those exact words, but that is the desired outcome.’
‘The desired outcome?’ Jack nodded and smiled. ‘Right.’
‘She also wants to recover the ransom.’
‘Really? She doesn’t want much then? But to be honest, Matt, this sounds like a job for a good detective. Not someone like me.’
‘Perhaps. But I know you have all kinds of contacts. Especially in the, shall we say, less salubrious parts of the world. And then there’s your father-in-law. Dimitri’s intelligence network is almost as good as ours.’
Jack smiled. ‘Yeah, well that does tend to be the case when you’re one of the richest Russian oligarchs in the world.’
‘The security services are stretched, Jack. In every arm of the service there’s been cuts. We aren’t as well-resourced as we once were.’