A Spy by Nature - Charles Cumming [140]
‘So you’re a spy? You work for MI5?’
There’s no concealed pride in the way she asks this, only worry in her voice, and perhaps even contempt.
‘At the moment, I’m what they call a support agent, someone who’s not an official employee but who assists the intelligence services in some other capacity. They may grant access to a private bank account for money laundering, or provide safe houses in London, that kind of thing. MI5 have offered me a full-time job if I want it.’
I had expected her to be impressed by this, but nothing registers. She says:
‘Do they pay you?’
‘Yes.’
But she does not ask how much.
‘And what? These two Americans think that you’re loyal to them and you’re not?’
‘Yes. Some of the information I’ve given them is legitimate, most of it has been doctored. That was the purpose of the initiative.’
‘And the CIA pay you as well?’
I nod.
She sucks all of this in, biting down on the apple for the first time.
‘I can’t believe this stuff goes on. And I can’t believe you’re involved in it, Alec.’
‘It’s happening all the time,’ I tell her, again feeling some need to justify myself. ‘Everyone’s doing it, Kate. European countries spy on other European countries. The Yanks spy on us, we spy on them. There are SIS officers operating under diplomatic cover in almost every one of our embassies overseas.’
‘So it’s a widespread thing?’
The experience of seeing her come to terms with this is bewildering for me: I had just blandly assumed that everybody knew about it.
‘Of course. Let me give you an example. Just the other day we found out that French intelligence had people listening in on secret negotiations between Siemens, a German technology company, and the South Korean government over a contract to build high-speed trains. Using that information, a French company was in a position to offer the Koreans a better deal and they won the contract.’
‘It makes you sick.’
‘I know. Those guys even bug business-class seats on Air France flights out of Paris. We’re all supposed to be in this fucking European Community to make trading easier between member states, but this is how the real business gets done.’
‘But with America?’ she says. ‘They’re our allies. Why did you have to get involved with them? Why didn’t Abnex just prosecute the two people from the CIA?’
‘Because it would be politically explosive. And because intelligence people love the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of knowing that they’re getting one over on the other guy. It’s all tit-for-tat.’
‘Childish, if you ask me,’ she says, glancing out of the window. ‘What are these Americans called? What are their names?’
‘Katharine Lanchester and Fortner Grice. A married couple. He’s much older.’
Kate clearly has a growing interest in this now, a look of privileged access, though as yet no discernible admiration of my role in it.
‘And how did you know that they’d come to you? How did you…? I don’t understand how it all works.’
I put out the cigarette. It tasted suddenly sour.
‘We were going to set up a meeting with the two of them at Abnex to discuss a possible joint venture with Andromeda. There’s a lot of that going on in the Caspian Basin, a lot of co-operation. Companies get together and share the cost of exploration, drilling, whatever. That’s how I wanted it to go, but Hawkes and my controller at Five thought that that approach would be too obvious.’
The sensation of finally being able to break my silence has momentarily suppressed any immediate concern for Cohen. Two years of backed-up secrets, all pouring out in a scrambled rush. I feel loose and relieved to be free of them.
‘So we came up with another plan. MI5 put someone inside Andromeda, a guy called Matthew Frears who was on my recruitment programme. He fed us background on their movements, leaked documents and so on. I then invited Saul to an oil industry party and Matthew manufactured an introduction to the Americans, using Saul as cover. He didn’t know anything about it. Everything that happened after that was