Spears of Defiance

by David Holman

  Later the same morning, Alex Swan carried his briefcase into the Ministry of Defence, signed in at the reception desk and took himself to the third floor.

  Outside the door of an office, he acknowledged a secretary who he was familiar with. ‘Good morning, Diane, I have an appointment with Mr Soames.’

  Diane Palmer smiled over her typewriter. ‘I will tell him you have arrived, sir.’

  Swan waited as she pressed a button on her intercom set, announcing his presence, then on hearing an electronic voice beckoning him to be escorted inside the room, Palmer rose from her seat and allowed Swan to follow her.

  Inside the office, Rupert Soames sat at a large oak desk in the middle of the room, his eyes perusing over some documents with a pen in his right hand. He looked up and reached out an arm. ‘Morning Alex, please take a seat.’ He nodded at his secretary. ‘Thank you, Miss Palmer.’ He then stood up and moved to a small table where a crystal decanter and glasses rested upon a silver tray. ‘Can I offer you a scotch, Alex?’

  Swan smiled. ‘Why, Rupert? Do you think I’ll be needing it after this?’ Swan had known the man for five years as both were regulars at The Brigand Club.

  Soames chuckled silently to the quip. He gestured with a glass to reinforce his offer.

  Swan held up his free hand. ‘Bit too early for me thanks, Rupert.’ He watched as Soames poured a small measure for himself and turned, carrying his scotch back to his desk.

  ‘What about coffee?’

  Swan nodded. ‘That would be much appreciated.’

  Soames pressed on his intercom. ‘Miss Palmer. Can I have a coffee for Mr Swan.’ He leant back in his oxblood leather chair. ‘Just finished reading your report about your time in Rhodesia. Most interesting.’ He gazed at Swan’s sling. ‘So, how are you? On the mend I hope?’ Listening as Swan explained the pain in his ribs was starting to ease., he smiled. ‘Jolly good to hear it.’ He shuffled some more papers. ‘Right then, down to business.’ He pulled one of the files which Janet had painstakingly prepared for this review. ‘You and Andrew Gable are still the only investigating officers, and of course when SID was formed in 1961, it was you and his father, Arthur?’

  ‘That’s right, Rupert. Arthur retired at the end of ‘74.’

  Soames nodded. ‘I see. And your wife, Janet, joined you as your administrative liaison shortly after your wedding?’

  ‘That’s also correct.’

  ‘Now, SID was set up by the MOD, as a special task force to investigate cases connected to the three services and Special Branch, and I see that over the years of operations, there’s been quite a few cases involving, terrorism, espionage and murder, in connection with a number of countries, The Onyx Cross case for instance, in 1969, was most intriguing. Please tell me more about it?’

  Swan shifted in his seat. ‘Well, Rupert. I’m afraid due to the highly sensitive nature of this case, I can only really tell you what’s already on those pages.’

  Soames gave an embarrassing shrug. ‘I see. Well, what I read, you and Arthur handled yourselves very well.’

  Swan gave a contented smile. ‘Thank you, Rupert. It was touch and go at one point, but we got to the bottom of it in the end.’

  Soames continued. ‘And the cases that followed, Cyprus, West Berlin and your part in the investigation of the Waterloo Bridge affair, all not a bad job. The latter still ongoing of course?’

  ‘That’s right. But we are getting close to a conclusion on it,’ added Swan.

  ‘Splendid,’ Soames beamed, thumbing through other pages of the file. ‘SID’s headquarters have been at Wellesley Mews since the start? Has these facilities been adequate for your investigations, Alex?’

  Swan paused. ‘’Well, they’re a tad small, but we’ve managed to cope, even though it can sometimes feel a little cramped with the three of us in the office at the same time. Especially, when Janet needs space for the office supplies.’

  Soames laughed. ‘Yes, I can imagine this could be a problem. So, this brings us to the spending budget, and I see over the years, it’s increased, mainly due to overseas travel.’

  ‘One must follow a lead on a case, I suppose, Rupert, even if it means having to pursue it abroad.’

  A knock on the door heralded the return of Diane Palmer with Swan’s coffee. They waited for her to leave again before continuing.

  Soames then nodded in agreement. ‘Of course, defence of the realm and all that.’ He sighed.

  ‘Well, you understand why we’re here this morning?’

  Swan looked glum as he lifted the china cup and took a sip. He quickly surveyed the room

  ‘I can’t see any big axes, or a chopping block in here, so I guess it’s to justify the future existence of SID?’

  Soames glared. ‘What? Hell no! SID has a future, Alex. That is guaranteed in this supplement for the White Paper. However, there’s one thing we should be looking at though.’

  Swan stared attentively. ‘And what’s that?’

  Soames leant forward looking him in the eye. ‘You. Alex.’ Swan smirked. ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes, Alex.’ Soames gestured to the sling again. ‘I mean, look at what you’ve been through lately, physically especially at your age. You’re no James Bond, you know.’

  ‘More like George Smiley, then?’

  Soames shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose you are, in that respect.’ He took another sip of whisky, ‘What I’m trying to say is, it’s really time to take a more managerial role in SID’s ops. I’ve been given a bigger budget for home security and defence considering all the things kicking off abroad, Iran, Rhodesia and so forth. Not to mention our ongoing tussle with the IRA. Therefore, Alex, I could grant you a few more personnel, providing of course, you stop haring about chasing the baddies yourself. If you get my meaning?’

  Swan laughed. ‘Do you know what, Rupert. I will have that scotch you offered earlier.’

  Soames left his chair to honour the request. ‘I was thinking perhaps, you could have an officer from Five and one from Special Branch, just to keep it in line with the original directive of the department. A secondment for say six months, then we’ll review the situation to see if a more permanent one would be feasible.’ He handed Swan the glass of scotch. ‘What do you say to that?’

  Swan smiled. ‘I’m going to need bigger premises, that’s for sure.’

  Soames nodded. ‘That can easily be arranged. How about somewhere with a private office for yourself?’

  Swan took a sip of his scotch. ‘Sounds a good idea. Not sure Janet will be keen on moving. She practically has Wellesley Mews as she wants it.’

  Soames laughed. ‘Women and organisation - those two words seemed to have been made for each other.’

  Swan agreed. ‘So, do I now go cap in hand to Hugo Davies and ask him if he has any spare chaps I can borrow for a while?’

  Soames stared at him as a judge would when sentencing the accused. ‘Who says it has to be a chap? Don’t forget, Alex, Five have some good female field agents as well, in their departments.’

  Swan gave him a sheepish look. ‘Quite so, Rupert. I apologise. In fact, I met one of John’s yesterday. She seemed quite keen in her role.’

  Soames closed the file to bring the meeting to a close. ‘So, are you happy with this new proposal?’

  ‘When does all this happen?’

  ‘Effective immediately.’

  Swan smiled. ‘I better go and break the news to Janet and Andrew. Right now, they are probably contemplating in becoming best-selling spy fiction novelists, thinking SID is to be decommissioned.’

  Soames sniggered. ‘Seems everyone leaving the service, is heading down that road these days. Maybe I should be making some notes as well. I’m sure my escapades here, would turn out to be a real page-turner. Anyway, can’t really throw the towel in just yet, the wife wants me to get a vintage banger for these classic car meetings. Some of her friends take part, and Beatrice is hellbent on joining them.’

  Swan suddenly had an idea. ‘As it happ
ens, I happen to know where a nice little 1947 MG Roadster in racing green, is up for sale. I could put in a good word, but I don’t think it would be necessary, seeing the current owner is a mutual friend of ours, since retired.’ He put out his free hand. ‘Thank you, Rupert. I’m going to leave this room a lot happier than when I entered.’

  Soames shook hands. ‘Good show, Alex. See you at The Brigand. Oh, and thanks for letting me know about the car. I can’t believe old Hammer wants to sell it though. He’s had that thing a long while.’

  Swan nodded. ‘Just like your predicament, Rupert. It’s all down to female influence.’

  Downstairs at reception, Swan was just signing himself out, when he was tapped on the shoulder by a feminine hand. ‘It’s Mr Swan, isn’t it?

  Sophie Lewis, we met at Lancaster House, yesterday.’

  Swan smiled. ‘Yes, we did. How are you, and what brings you to the MOD?’

  Lewis looked around the foyer and held up a black case with the Royal Coat of Arms emblazoned on the flap. ‘I’m just running an errand for Mr Stratton. What about you, or is it strictly need to know?’

  Swan gave a little laugh. ‘No, it’s okay. I’ve just had my first department review of this new government.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lewis showed her surprise. ‘How did it go?’

  Swan gave her an exuberant nod. ‘Actually Sophie, it went rather well.’ Swan suddenly remembered the last time he had seen her, she had been rushing out of the door to follow Damien Wyatt. ‘Are you heading back to Thames House?’

  Lewis sighed. ‘Eventually, I have to drop in at Scotland Yard first.’

  Swan had a suggestion. ‘Then, seeing we’re heading the same way, why don’t you walk along the embankment with me?’ They exited the big white building and cut through to the river.

  Swan turned to her. ‘So, how did you get on tailing Mr Wyatt?’

  ‘I think I did okay, managed to keep my distance.’ She explained how the park was crowded with commuters. ‘

  ‘And then what happened?’ Swan enquired. ‘It’s okay, I still have Level 5 clearance,’ he reassured, reflecting on his recent meeting.

  Lewis continued. ‘He met with two other men in Hyde Park and they walked along, having a chat. I wasn’t close enough to hear what they were talking about though.’

  ‘Did you manage to get a good look at the other men he met up with?’ Swan noticed Lewis had suddenly fell silent. ‘What is it, Sophie?’

  She halted. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mr Swan.’

  ‘What is it, tell me. Maybe I can help?’

  Lewis looked into his hazel eyes. ‘Well, you asked if I had a good look at the men he was with. The fact is I did. One of them was Mr Davies.’

  Swan raised a brow. ‘Hugo Davies, your Deputy DG? What’s he doing talking to Wyatt, I wonder?’

  Lewis hesitated. ‘There’s more, Mr Swan. A lot more.’

  ‘Please, Sophie, do go on.’

  Lewis took a breath. ‘Well, Wyatt and Mr Davies parted from the other man and got into a taxi, so I decided to follow this other man who continued to walk through the park and...’

  Swan took her hand. ‘What happened? Who was he?’

  Lewis stammered, ‘I... followed him to Kensington Palace Gardens... to the Russian Embassy!’

  Swan’s jaw dropped. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Swan. He was even saluted by the guard at the door.’

  Swan paused for thought. ‘Have you told John Stratton about this?’

  ‘No, Mr Swan. I have a meeting with him this afternoon to discuss it. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been awake all-night thinking about it.’ She reached into her coat. ‘I’ve made some notes, description of this man, as much as I could see him.’

  Swan thumbed the pages to read what she had written. ‘You’ve said here, he was short, about five foot two, grey hair, black rimmed glasses?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.

  Swan stared at the river in disbelief. ‘Sounds like Anatoli Leshkin.’

  ‘Is he important?’ Lewis asked.

  ‘Leshkin is a representative of the GRU. He’s their main operative in London.’

  Lewis raised a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my god. What was Mr Davies doing with him?’

  At that moment, Swan was thinking the same thing. He sugared an idea. ‘Listen Sophie. I want you to do this for me. When you meet with Mr Stratton this afternoon, you tell him Wyatt met with two men, and they then all got into separate taxis. Will you do this for me?’

  Lewis relaxed. She liked this man, his friendly eyes and smile showing her he was someone she could trust. ‘Yes, Mr Swan. What will you do?’

  Swan retained her notebook sliding it into his inside pocket. ‘Leave it with me. And try not to worry. My number is Whitehall 9921, should you wish to talk about it, or arrange an appointment through Janet, my secretary and come and see me. It is imperative now that you only mention what I’ve told you to say, and as far as you’re concerned, we never met today. Is that clear?’

  Lewis nodded. ‘Yes, Mr Swan, and, thank you. You’ve made me feel so much better.’ Swan gestured to a gap between two buildings behind the RAF Memorial. ‘This is me, I’m afraid. I’m sure we’ll speak soon.’ He shook her hand. ‘Take care, Sophie.’

  Walking towards Wellesley Mews, he began to mull things over. This was a new turning point. Not only was the possibility of a highly-placed and long serving traitor in the security services, codenamed Red Lion, no longer just a rumour, there was also prime suspects for Mallinson’s unfortunate demise. The two men seen jumping into a taxi outside the bar in Mombasa? Were they KGB agents on word from Wyatt, assigned to keep Mallinson under surveillance until they were ordered to eliminate him? He cursed himself. Back at the farm, he had given Wyatt the shipping magnate’s location. Once again, he had been played. Perhaps Soames was right, and he was getting too old to keep playing this game?

  Epilogue

  Janet Swan placed the black tape onto the last of the boxes. Although the move to the Cromwell Buildings was only a few feet across the road, the transport of files of a sensitive nature had to handled correctly. Over the past few days, she had recorded everything from a memo concerning food waste in the office to the file on Operation Cascade. As she placed the box with the others outside the office door, the telephone rang on her desk. ‘Whitehall 9921.’ She listened to the caller. It was for her husband, a woman’s voice, and Janet thought she sounded young. ‘I’m afraid Mr Swan is out of the office at the moment, but he is due back in the next half hour.’ Janet noted the call and put down the receiver.

  Ten minutes later, Swan and Gable appeared. They had just been to a meeting with logistics about desk space in the new office.

  Swan acknowledged his wife. ‘Any crisis break out while we were absent, darling?’

  Janet smiled. ‘No, I’ve packed up our last box, taken down the incident board and boxed up the crockery and the kettle, so don’t go asking for any tea until we get to the new office. Oh, you have an internal on your desk from Thames House, and a young lady called to make an appointment to see you. How was the meeting?’ She gave them a mock scowl. ‘I do hope you two haven’t shoved me in a little corner somewhere.’

  Swan gave her an endearing smile. ‘Rest assured my love, you’ve got plenty of space. You’re right outside my new office to fend off any undesirables who may wish to grace my door.’

  Janet tutted. ‘What are you going to do in your own little office?’

  Swan gave her a mischievous grin. ‘I’m chief of SID, my love. I get to lay a mat down on the floor and practice my putting skills for my next round with Hammer Higgins.’

  His wife tutted some more and went back to her desk. There were still a few things to do before it could be collected by the porters.

  Swan sat at his desk, opened the sealed internal mailbag from Thames House and read the contents. ‘Looks like we have the results of how Kuwani died.’ He took a few minutes to read through the first document. ‘Good
grief. Seems the poison was snake venom, possibly from a Black Mamba. No wonder it didn’t take long for him to die. I read once that they can kill a full-grown man in less than half an hour.’ He looked across at Andrew Gable who had suddenly gone pale.

  ‘It was Black Mamba venom?’ Gable confirmed.

  Swan nodded, then noticed the sudden change in his colleague. ‘Is everything alright, Andrew?’

  Gable didn’t answer, his thoughts were back in the jungle on the Bulawayo road.

  Swan turned to his wife. ‘Darling, you better unpack the tea things again. I think Andrew could do with a cup, right now.’ He turned back to Gable. ‘Then I’m sure you’ll feel better enough to tell us what it was that actually happened to you in Matabeleland.’

  Janet shook her head and retrieved the box. Her mind was packing them for the porters, not unpacking them again. She started to think about the new office and the prospected new recruits to SID she would be dealing with. ‘And what about the two extra desks? Any thoughts on who might be sitting at them?’

  Swan shook his head. ‘Early days yet.’ He then suddenly had a thought. ‘By the way, who was it who called?’

  Janet took the kettle and tea cups into the side room, then returning to her desk she checked her pad. ‘Sophie Lewis. Do you know her?’

  ‘Yes, I do. She’s one of John’s.’ He smiled. ‘And, I think I’ve just found someone who would be perfect for one of those new desks.’

  Alex Swan will return

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, it is always good to read other literary fiction that covers the subjects and regions you want to include in your novel. For this, I really enjoyed the novels of popular authors such Alistair Maclean and Craig Thomas as well as contemporary writers, Jeremy Duns, Peter Vollmer and Daryl Sahli.