by Brian Cain
CHAPTER ONE
John Stanton waited in the corridor, he stood as if frozen, not a muscle moved. He could hear doors closing and people talking as it echoed along the long walls, his eyes darted back and forth gathering information. Westminster annals of time the Palace of Westminster, he had no idea why he had been summoned, direct mouth to ear request bypassing his superiors and associates at MI6. He'd been waiting a while and sat down on the flamboyant Victorian hand carved chair directly outside the British Secretary of State. Inside the office, Lord Albert Hollis minister apparent listened to Stanton's exemplary portfolio narrated all from memory by Bruce Hurst part of an elite group of individuals recently assembled by the British government. When Hollis had heard enough, Hurst left via a door hidden behind the wall length bookshelf to one side of the office.
Stanton lent on his elbows resting on his upper thighs, he could see his characteristically large hands dangling between his knees. He generally avoided waiting in place of action, it let his mind wander and there was too much to contemplate. He imagined the blood on his hands but drifted away seeing his beautiful wife in a vision holding his children, was it for nothing. The black dog bit at the back of his mind when the ancient oak outer office door opened, a well-dressed middle aged women showed herself. "I'm sorry I don't know your name and can't find a reference to it anywhere, Lord Hollis will see you now."
Stanton shot to his feet standing to attention; he at least knew whom he was going to see now. His crisp white shirt and black tweed suit stretched without a crease, one could see their reflection in his plain leather black shoes. His dark cropped hair square across the top enhanced his round tanned face and brown eyes, he showed no facial emotion, and the years had not yet developed the lines of age and wisdom. He nodded and half marched passed the women into the outer office knocking boldly on the inner office door marked 'Secretary Of State.'
"Come in." Stanton marched boldly in standing to attention in front of Lord Hollis's desk next to a red silk and antique timber office chair. He stood for a few seconds nothing said, Hollis looked down averting the commanding gaze Stanton displayed. Hollis spoke in a refined British accent rather plum in mouth of which Stanton was not a great fan. "Sit down John." Stanton sat down in a regimental fashion showing no emotion or movement once settled. Hollis coughed uncomfortably, "I just had Hurst in here a man you know well. Your record is quite unique now we both know what you are capable of I have a proposition or should I say new orders."
"Yes sir."
Hollis hesitated for a few seconds to hear more but Stanton just sat stone-faced. "From today you cease to exist even amongst your own kind, you will join Hurst as part of a group so elite and stealth even I will be unaware of your actions at times." Hollis waited but there was silence. "You will move to a location erased from our records, from there you will study and analyse information from across the iron curtain, Europe, the United States and act on anything requiring attention without having to receive authorisation, you are the authorisation. Your patriotism is unheralded I don't know of one friend or foe that doesn't fear your presence, a must in the arena you are about to enter. You've come a long way since being discovered amid our special schooling, now we have the evidence required to maintain this approach and perhaps expand it. I have grave fears regarding the separation of powers and dominance of the banking industry. Do you have anything to say?"
"No sir."
Hollis stood up and began to pace back and forth behind his desk, the room smelt of brandy and cigar smoke with a hint of expensive cologne. Hollis was middle aged and a career king pin of political stature. He wore a pair of dark slacks, light blue shirt and tweed sports jacket. His hair was collar length and greying around the edges, he suffered from dandruff and often dusted off his shoulders by habit. "You have a further task; our illustrious leader in her infinite wisdom has legislated to allow female members of the MI6 staff to operate on the front line." He watched Stanton's face and noticed the change in his eyes. "You have something you would like to say about that?"
Stanton stood to attention looking straight ahead. "My father protected women with his life and so did his father sir. I can appreciate the attitude of some women wishing to liberate themselves in areas previously considered domain of the male but holding the lifeless body of a female co operative is not on my list of ambitions."
Hollis sat down fiddling laying his arms on the desk in front of him palms down. "Sit down John, relax, we are hardly in the streets of Ireland, trekking the jungle of the Congo or convincing someone in Moscow we are a German arms dealer. You can look at it whichever way you choose but have a female operative you will, not much I or you can do about that. The reason we give her to you to partner is you will no doubt rub off and that just may keep her alive. A female operative will be an asset, they can move among people we cannot and barter in ways we have no hope of assimilating. I read of your own hand in our training literature that perceived weakness can be made into strengths."
Stanton still stood. "Our training literature is due for edit, that is not what I meant by that statement. Women are sacred among our democracy nothing should change. When the last man falls we can only hope the foe respect them as much as we do, for only then is it out of our hands."
Hollis smiled and clasped his hands in front of them. "I've never met you but from all I've heard that is exactly what I expected." He stood again starting to pace up and down while he spoke with one hand in his pocket looking at the floor. "There's one more delicate matter to explain, regarding the women in question. I can reveal who she is; her name is Bella Elizabeth Fonteyn."
"Sir!"
Hollis made eye contact and stoped passing, "I realise you have some dealings with Bella in the past and know her family, you may speak."
"Bella sir please, she has a young family. She's beautiful sir, this can't happen."
Hollis sat down. "This has been in the wind for a long time John and it is Bella herself that's requests she move when it was offered, this is not an order on her behalf it's voluntary."
"Sir please Bella knows my wife."
"Mmm, most unfortunate that she choose to run, my condolences I know it must be hard loosing her when your children are so young. We do however have some news for you, she has been found in the South of France and we have put her under protective surveillance, the French also have someone looking over her."
Stanton sat down looking limp and relieved. "Thank god."
"She has applied to move to Australia, we will keep you informed. She is using her maiden name Simpson her Christian name is Jodi I believe."
"Yes sir." Stanton stood up.
"I thought the news may assist you with your current task. Bruce Hurst has all the information; you will be working beside him again so that may help. We may never meet again," Hollis stood and offered his hand to Stanton, they shook Stanton's grip had Hollis's eyes watering. "God luck John, a lot rests on what you are about to take up."
Stanton walked to the door, opened it, turned to Hollis, nodded then left gently closing the door behind him.
Hollis took a pipe from his rack, he loaded it with rum tobacco, lit up and the smoke carried the aroma around the room further impregnating the oak panelled walls with the bouquet of occasion, he muttered under his breath. "God help you John Stanton, for I cannot."
