Carte Blanche - Jeffery Deaver [164]
But speculation irritated James Bond – it was a waste of time – and he was relieved when his mobile buzzed.
‘Bill.’
‘So here’s the overall position, James,’ Tanner said. ‘The troops in the countries surrounding eastern Sudan have stood down. Khartoum issued a statement that the West has once again “interfered with the democratic process of a sovereign nation, in an attempt to spread feudalism throughout the region”.’
‘Feudalism?’ Bond asked, chuckling.
‘I suspect the writer meant to say “imperialism” but got muddled. Don’t see why Khartoum can’t just use Google to find a decent press agent like everyone else.’
‘And the Chinese? They’ve been deprived of quite a lot of discount petrol.’
‘They’re hardly in a position to complain since they were partly responsible for what would have been a very unpleasant war. But the regional government in the Eastern Alliance are over the moon. Their governor let slip to the PM that they’re voting to separate from Khartoum next year and hold democratic elections. They want long-term economic connections with us and America.’
‘And they have a lot of oil.’
Tanner said, ‘Gushers, James, positive gushers. Now, nearly all the food that Felicity Willing was doling out is on its way back to Cape Town. The World Food Programme is going to oversee distribution. It’s a good outfit. They’ll send it to places that need it.’ He then said, ‘Sorry to hear about Lamb.’
‘Walked into the line of fire to save us. He ought to get a posthumous commendation for it.’
‘I’ll give Vauxhall Cross a bell and let them know. Now, sorry, James, but I need you back by Monday. Something’s heating up in Malaysia. There’s a Tokyo connection.’
‘Odd combination.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I’ll be in at nine.’
‘Ten’ll do. You’ve had a rather busy week.’
They rang off and Bond had enough time for one sip of whiskey before the phone vibrated once more. He peered at the screen.
On the third buzz he hit answer.
‘Philly.’
‘James, I’ve been reading the signals. My God – are you all right?’
‘Yes. A bit of a rough day but it looks like we got everything sorted.’
‘You are the master of the understatement. So Gehenna and Incident Twenty were entirely different? I wouldn’t have thought it. How did you suss it all out?’
‘Correlation of analysis and, of course, you need to think three-dimensionally,’ Bond said gravely.
A pause. Then Philly Maidenstone asked, ‘You’re winding me up, aren’t you, James?’
‘I suppose I am.’
A faint trickle of laughter. ‘Now, I’m sure you’re knackered and need to get some rest but I found one more piece of the Steel Cartridge puzzle. If you’re interested.’
Relax, he told himself.
But he couldn’t. Had his father been a traitor or not?
‘I’ve got the identity of the KGB mole inside Six, the one who was murdered.’
‘I see.’ He inhaled slowly. ‘Who was he?’
‘Hold on a second . . . where is it now? I did have it.’
Agony. He struggled to stay calm.
Then she said, ‘Ah, here we go. His cover name was Robert Witherspoon. Recruited by a KGB handler when he was at Cambridge. He was shoved in front of a tube train at Piccadilly Circus by a KGB active-measures agent in 1988.’
Bond closed his eyes. Andrew Bond had not been at Cambridge. And he and his wife had died in 1990, on a mountain in France. His father had been no traitor. Neither had he been a spy.
Philly continued, ‘But I also found that another MI6 freelance operator was killed as part of Steel Cartridge, not a double – considered quite a superstar agent, apparently, working counter-intelligence, tracking down moles in Six and the CIA.’
Bond swirled this around in his mind, like the whiskey in his glass. He said, ‘Do you know anything about his death?’
‘Pretty hush-hush. But I do know it occurred around 1990, somewhere in France or Italy. It was disguised as an accident, too, and a steel cartridge was left at the scene as a warning to other agents.’
A wry smile crossed Bond’s lips. So maybe his father had been