by KC McLaren
Reginald D. Jacobs, Director General of Britain’s MI5 intelligence service got out of his chair and stood up. He grabbed the bottom of his immaculate designer jacket, pulling it down and straightening it. He then took hold of his shirt cuffs one by one tugging at them making sure the gold cufflinks protruded from the jacket sleeves. Like a man facing a firing squad, he walked over to the desk and without another word took hold of the document and signed it.
Chapter 39 | Bankrupt
“IT WAS YOU. You caused the banks in Greece to go on a run. You got me to upload the software and used ThornScope to get through the bank’s firewalls and security.” Oh God, this man has no idea what he is doing, Jonathan thought to himself. “You are going bankrupt Greece and have the EU take full control…”
Jonathan started to get up, the anger clearly raising on his face. The chair slid backwards as he clinched his fists.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Strickland said calmly. “Brad has just got you feeling well again…” He turned around and looked towards the open door. Brad appeared and stood in the doorway. Strickland turned back to Jonathan. “It would be a shame to have to give you another nasty headache, and just when we were starting to get on so well, Jonathan.” He leaned back relaxing into his chair, his hands raised in a gesture of ‘up to you though’.
Jonathan stood his ground weighing up Brad, his first thought, bring it on. I’ll give you as good as I get. His logical side however argued otherwise. Brad, obviously a highly trained professional, in all probability wouldn’t give him a chance to get close to him let alone land a decent blow. He relaxed his hands from the clinched fists.
Strickland placed his own hands into his lap. “This is no game, Jonathan. Please. Sit down and hear me out. You don’t have all the facts at hand.”
Jonathan reluctantly walked over to the chair and brought it back to the table. He knew Strickland held all the cards and realised that the best he could do was to wait it out. Find out as much as he could about Strickland’s plans. Then decide how he could smash them along with that false annoying smile. He made a promise to himself there and then, whatever Strickland was up to, Jonathan at all costs would stop him. He sat back down at the table.
“You have kidnapped me. You are responsible for the death of God only knows how many people. I know it was you who had two of my employee’s killed in pursuit of your objectives. Whatever it is you want with me, Strickland, I promise you one thing, I am going to stop you once and for all.”
“Brave words, Jonathan. However, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. But all in good time my dear chap,” Strickland replied cheerfully.
Jonathan hated the fact that Strickland was clearly enjoying himself. He watched as the political false warm pathetic smile returned to Strickland’s face. Jonathan still had the urge to smack the hell out of it. Yes, Strickland, you are right. All in good time. “So, I don’t have all the facts, go on explain them to me, Strickland. I didn’t agree with you six years ago. I doubt very much my mind will be made to change now.”
“I am sure you won’t, but I am confident that you will do what I require, Jonathan. There is more at stake here for you than just ThornScope.” Strickland replied with an edge to his voice.
“Threats, kidnapping? Seems to be all the rage with you these days,” Jonathan said defiantly.
Strickland tutting, nodded his head, “Jonathan, my dear poor Jonathan. You of all people should know I don’t make threats. What is a threat without conviction? So, let me start with some basic facts.”
Strickland inhaled through his nose the air clearly audible as he breathed back out as if preparing to talk to a child that would just not understand the circumstance. “The Chinese, the Russians, our friends in both the European Union and our cousins, the Americans. They’ve all been trying to hack their way into ThornScope for years. Thankfully, they have got nowhere near. Damn, even our own GCHQ, your pay masters, can’t get deep enough into your systems to switch on the real potential of ThornScope. We should never have allowed you to retain proprietary ownership of the code.”
Jonathan knew exactly who had been trying to hack into his systems but was surprised that Strickland knew so much.
Strickland continued, “The main point being my friend, ThornScope needs to evolve. It won’t be too long before some country other than the UK has the safety net we have.”
“And more to the point, the European Union is closing in on a Federation of Europe. It’s going to happen weather the UK kicks and screams bloody murder against the eventuality or not. And then what happens to your beloved ThornScope?”
Jonathan attempted to answer, but Strickland raised his hand again. “I’m still speaking. I’ll answer that for you. Simple, it will be taken out of the UK’s hands. Handed over to the faceless bureaucrats in Brussels and worse. Shared with our so-called allies.”
Again, Jonathan could not care for Strickland’s attempt to cut him off. “As you say, Strickland, I and my company have proprietary ownership over ThornScope, the contract as they say is watertight.”
“Oh dear,” Strickland sighed shaking his head. “There are already murmurs. When there is a Federation of Europe, laws will be past to null and void your contract for the better good. I could go on, and on. But the simple fact is, my organisation is not going to allow that to happen. We are certainly not going to allow the EU, in whatever disguise it’s in, any access to ThornScope. And more important, we are not going to allow a Federation of Europe to be created unless the UK is at the core of it, and controls it.”
Strickland paused staring at Jonathan as if looking for agreement. “Forgive me for the monologue. As you can see I am rather passionate about my country and what it stands for. It’s not going to be sold out to the highest bidder in Europe.”
Jonathan getting impatient had heard all of this before, in a different way, but the same context. “I too am passionate about my country. Passionate enough to make sure people like you don’t take control of ThornScope. Turn it on, as you say, and do exactly as you please. The result? To take away the very rights of the people it serves to protect.”
Strickland showed signs of frustration and rolled his eyes up, “I can’t believe you are so naïve. One thing is certain we are not going to have our country become a satellite province of the European Union. We made this world, our history dictates that we will govern most of it again. And if we don’t do something about what is happening in Europe? That is exactly what we will get. A Federation where the UK has little or no power to manage it. The world is changing, has been changing ever since technology became the new industrial revolution.”
Jonathan, staring back, shuck his head.
“I don’t want to control ThornScope,” Strickland said raising his voice slightly, brushing away an imaginary speck from the shoulder of his pristine tailored made jacket, “Far from it. But for now, let’s not argue the point.”
Jonathan felt rather baffled. “So, what the hell is it that you want from me? You keep dancing around like a Belgium bureaucrat, oh wait, you’re worse than one them.”
Strickland shook his head again, “You sound like a spoilt teenager.”
Jonathan ignored him, “So, if I don’t comply, which is likely, what’s your plan then, Strickland? Will your bad ass Bradley boy torture me?”
Jonathan sensed a change on Strickland’s face. The smile stilled beamed, but his eyes gave him away. The debate was over.
“Torture, Jonathan?” Strickland smiled ruefully. “Not at all. Torture would be wasted energy on someone like you. You’ve done an excellent job of keeping off the grid and I’ve spent a lot of money trying to get you back on it. However, it’s amazing what one can find out about people.”
Strickland turned his head and looked behind nodding to Brad who walked over and gave Strickland a leather-bound folder. “Thank you, Brad. I was taught a long time ago that men in this world fall into two categories, tools or enemies. But you came along and smashed that s
imple ideal. Can’t be bought, can’t even see past your own guarded stuck up nose. I gave you a lot Jonathan. A hell of a lot.”
“You gave me nothing, Strickland,” Jonathan retorted.
“Did you think it was just a simple and easy task convincing Parliament to fund ThornScope?” Strickland continued, “It was me that protected you. People had to be paid, bribed, money shared around. Favours exchanged for favours. It was me that saw the coming future, not you. I explained to you many times how the world was changing, a world dominated by the internet, and those that dominated the technology, would lead the way. And I offered you friendship, a mutual beneficial partnership. And what did you do? You up and disappeared on me. Not friendly at all. You left a lot of proverbial egg on my face – even costing me the next general election.”
Ha! Jonathan thought, there it is. The motivation and reason. Poor little David Strickland was kicked out of office and man did I love it. “Egg suites you and your kind. I’ve heard your ramblings of a mad man all before, Strickland. You’re like a broken boring record player. The only thing you offered was a vision of Strickland’s world, controlled by Strickland, and I was sure the hell not going to be part of it.”
It was Strickland’s turn to shake his head. “It seems time has not dulled your sense of humour, nor has it stopped you trying to cut your nose off to spite your face. I hoped that after such a long time you would see reason.” Strickland raised his hand up gesturing towards Brad, “My friend here, however, has always thought otherwise. There is something I want to show you before telling you what it is I want.” Strickland slowly opened the folder. “I think you need a small demonstration of my will. When you went off grid, it seems you also decided to protect and hide a few other people, but not as well as you think.”
Jonathan could feel his left eye twitch, a sure sign of his stress levels rising. He rubbed it, trying to get it back under control, but too late, he knew Strickland also knew what it meant. He felt the air in the room all of a sudden getting humid and hot.
Strickland, slowly and methodically took out what looked like 8x10 photo shots and handed the folder back to Brad. Teasingly, he held the images close to his chest looking down at the first one then placed it on the table sliding it towards Jonathan. “She is beautiful, is she not Jonathan?”
Not for the first time today Jonathan’s mind reeled and stopped. He looked back at Strickland. Unusually and strangely, the smile on his face had disappeared replaced with a surreal look of concern. How odd, the man actually had a sincere look. His eyes glazing over with empathy.
Jonathan reached out and gently placed a hand on the image in front of him. A burning rage of anger started to fire up in the depths of his soul. Sensing Jonathan’s emotion, Brad moved closer to him. Jonathan smiled, he knew it was nor the time or place for anger. The day’s events melted away into the background, becoming completely insignificant compared to the image staring back at him.
The photograph had been taken recently, a cheerful crowd of teenagers dressed in ski suites smiling and messing around in the sun-shine snow for the camera. And there, always the popular one, centre in the image stood his sister. Her cheeks healthy red from the mountain cold cheekily poking her tongue out, posing for the camera. Just out of the focus of the scene stood a man. Anyone looking would have taken him for no more than a tourist or passer-by. But it was the deliberate stare towards the camera that caught Jonathan’s attention. Brad.
Jonathan watched as Strickland carefully one by one, placed the other images down onto the table. Each photo similar, on the piste. The ever present subtle Brad just out of shot in each scene. Jonathan regrettably knew it was going to be almost impossible not to break the promise he had just made to himself. There were no words needed to be spoken, the intent loud and clear – Strickland did not just hold all the cards, he had a deliberate loaded deck.
Strickland coughed, a nervous cough and as he laid down the last photograph he said, “You hid your sister well, Jonathan. But alas, I am genuinely sad to say, not so well. A beautiful young woman, a beautiful name, Natasha.”
“Any harm comes to my sister, Strickland and I’ll…”
“And you’ll do what Jonathan?” Strickland interrupted. “You’ve been playing your free and easy hand for the last six years. And now it’s my turn. I don’t get any joy from this at all. You’re responsible for your sister’s wellbeing, not I. She will be well looked after. A team of body guards will be arriving in Switzerland to protect her. Strangely enough, from her point of view, it will be her big brother who has sent them.”
Jonathan stared back, full of hatred but knew he had been outplayed, out mastered and out done. “What is it you want me to do, David?” The heavy sarcasm in his tone could not betray his anger.
Strickland looked back, undisturbed by Jonathan’s stare. “There is something else I want you to see, but in a little while. It was not ThornScope that caused the run on Greece’s bank. Nor will it be ThornScope that will cause a run on Spain’s, Italy’s and Portugal’s banks. But you are right, ThornScope played a part in it. However, I do need ThornScope to do one little thing for me.”
“Get to the point, Strickland.” Jonathan could not help himself and thought his anger would get the better of him. He wanted nothing more than to lunge at Strickland and knock his laser whitened teeth out.
“Simple. I want you to change ThornScope security protocols for the Bank of England. Put in place the ability to stop it from paying the monthly national debt deadline. I have no intention of carrying out the threat,” Strickland laughed, “but it will be a great bargaining tool at the appropriate time.”
Strickland’s sickly, political smile returned to his face.
Chapter 40 | The Old Spy Master
AS JACOBS LEFT THE OFFICE, Egil got up out of his seat and put the gun back into its holster, “I don’t know what to say, Bill.”
“You wouldn’t have shot him, would you?” the Home Secretary asked with a wry smile.
“No. I don’t believe I would have, even though it’s a strangely nice thought,” Egil replied shaking his head.
“I don’t think I could have either,” the Home Secretary mused. “At least not here. When you are staring down the barrel of a gun in a poker game the biggest asset you have, is the bluff.”
Egil looked at his godfather wondering what exactly sort of poker game was being played out here. “It’s not just about the shooting, Bill. The whole damn thing is unbelievable and I still don’t know which side you are playing on. I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“I am a mere survivor my dear boy, not immortal,” the Home Secretary replied solemnly. “So let’s just agree I’m playing all sides.” He paused then added, “And there are more than two sides in this game.”
Egil looked at him reflectively. What the hell are you up to now old man? The Home Secretary sat heavily down on his chair behind his desk, Egil could hear his breathing becoming rapid.
“Bill, are you OK? Damn it man. This is far too much for you.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine, Egil. Just a little high blood pressure.” Reaching into his draw the Home Secretary took out a bottle of pills. “Get me a glass of water, these will soon calm me down,” he said pointing to the bottle.
“You need to get checked out by a doctor, Bill.”
The Home Secretary laughed, “You are worse than your Auntie Pauline.”
Egil noticed the expression on his godfather’s face change. He looked as if he was thinking, wanting to say more.
“Egil?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir?”
“If anything should happen to me, seek out your Auntie, she knows everything I know. She will be able to guide you.”
“For goodness sake, Bill, what the hell do you think is going to happen to you?”
“As I say, I’m not immortal, Egil. Another reason why I’ve called you here today. It’s not just the high blood pressure, I’m sorry to tell you this.”
“Bill, y
ou’ve already scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you saying now, those riddles I just can’t fathom out, Sir.”
“I’ve been diagnosed with prostate cancer, Egil. All those cigars, cigarettes and booze in the early years. They’ve come to collect their payment.”
“Bill, I’m lost for words... I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t over worry it, Egil. It’s treatable, and chances of getting through are superb. You can’t tell anyone else. Not even our closest friends know. And I beg you, don’t worry too much, there’s a few years left in this old boy yet.”
“I promise I won’t. How is Pauline taking it, she knows right?”
“Yes she does, nothing much escapes that old battle axe.” The Home Secretary replied with a beaming joking smile. “And I’ve promised once the treatment starts, I will retire from public office. I think we’ve come closer together over the last few years. Just as close as when we both worked in Berlin in the early eighties. Those were good times. Anyways, enough of that. We have more pressing things at hand.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one, Egil. Get Jonathan Beckett back, convince him we need ThornScope fully turned on. Stop Strickland, save the country. Finally make an old man happy, find a good catholic girl to settle down with. Not much to ask.”
“Bill, we’re not catholic. And you could have just sent me a memo instead of all this drama.”
They both giggled.
“Your father would have been so proud of you, Egil. I know I am. Even though you are somewhat of a trumped up little maverick at times. Like father like son, I still do miss him terribly.”
“Do you think Jacobs will comply with your demands?” Egil replied, ignoring the reference to his father. He still found it hard to talk about the past.
“Oh, definitely not. At least not everything. He will go away, think about it. See what’s on the thumb drive and plan accordingly. I’ve beaten him this round, but not a knockout blow. He’s far too clever a chap to just take things on the chin. One could say, the perfect survivor. He is not doing this for glory or the protection of the UK. He wants power as much as Strickland does. If you play your cards right that could be the perfect way of bringing them down together.”
