The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comhe glared through the thick lenses at me as his words sunk in and Itried to imagine what he meant.`But you can't arrest me, you promised in writing that you wouldn't,' Iretorted feebly.`That promise stood only for as long as negotiations were in progress,'snapped Morrison. `If you don't sign, we will end the negotiations . ..'There was no choice but to sign. Morrison had cornered me: firstdenying me a lawyer, then bringing Watts as a wingman, then using asoft, concerned approach to build my confidence and trust, and finally,once I had taken the bait, luring me into the safe ground of theembassy. They would not have made empty threats, and no doubt SBofficers would be waiting with handcuffs outside, ready to arrest me.Even if they decided that repatriation from the embassy would belegally tricky, they would set me up for an arrest by the GuardiaCivil, perhaps with false evidence on trumped-up charges. It didn'ttake much imagination to think how it could be done - planting drugs inmy room or on the Honda wouldn't be difficult.Grabbing a biro that lay amongst the jumble of papers on the desk, Isigned angrily, my normal signature distorted by my fear.THURSDAY, 20 MARCH 1997MANCHESTER AIRPORT12. THE BREACHAs the UK Air flight from Malaga touched down I regretted leavingSpain. Staring out the Airbus's porthole, my mood reflected theweather: dull, cold and raining in the way that only happens inManchester. It was not impossible that MI6 had tricked me intoreturning to the UK so it was a relief not to be stopped as I checkedthrough passport control using my real passport, none the worse for itseight months in the petrol tank. Alex Huntley's passport was carefullystitched into the armoured padding of my leather motorcycle jacket - itmight still prove useful.It was good to be back relaxing in Cumbria, enjoying home cooking,walking elderly Jesse along the Eden and on the occasional sunny daytaking the windsurfer out on Ullswater. But I could not stay thereforever; it was time to think about getting a job and starting a newcareer. I'd already ruled out the obvious option for someone with afirst-class degree and a couple of languages. Returning to the world ofstripy shirts and champagne-quaffing hoorays would become overwhelminginside of a week. The new job would have to be as challenging andstimulating as working for MI6. That would not be straightforward.Morrison told me in Madrid that the service had sorted out a job in`industry'. It transpired that this was in the marketing department ofa motor racing team, owned by former world champion driver JackieStewart, in the Buckinghamshire new town of Milton Keynes. It soundedglamorous and interesting but I was not sure whether it would bepage- 159 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com