The Big Breach - Index of

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The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comlining, baldy pulled out a small package, carefully wrapped in maskingtape. My morale plummeted when I realised that it was my Àlex Huntley'passport, driving licence and credit card. I watched latex-glovedfingers carefully insert the package into a plastic bag, seal and addit to the growing pile.Simultaneously, a search team from Cumbria SB descended on my parents'home in Cumbria and a third team confiscated the desktop PC at StewartGrand Prix. My captor's mobile phones were ringing incessantly becausethe three teams were using them to coordinate the raids.Just after 5 p.m., as darkness was descending, Garrold announced thatit was time to go. My handcuffs were released briefly to allow a visitto the lavatory; then, handcuffed to another officer, I was led outinto the courtyard and bundled into the back of one of the waitingdark-green Vauxhall Omegas. Garrold got into the driving seat and wepulled out of the courtyard to start the drive towards the motorwayand, presumably, London. The remaining officers carried on working inmy flat.We arrived at Charing Cross police station at around 7 p.m., thejourney slowed by the evening rush-hour traffic. We parked up in acentral courtyard filled with patrol cars. Still in handcuffs, I wasled through heavy doors and up a ramp to the main reception desk wherethey handed me over to the custody of the duty sergeant. My name,address and charge were logged, then he allowed me to make one personalcall and contact a lawyer. Still handcuffed, I rang my father, whoalready knew what was happening by virtue of his own police raid. Hetried to sound upbeat and positive, but I knew he was worried. I hopedthat my mother was taking the shock OK. Then I phoned John Wadham andasked for his advice. He cancelled his evening plans so that he couldcome at once. Two PCs took me down to the cells to await his arrival.As the cell door slammed shut, I felt calm about my situation. Myprevious experiences of handcuffs and clanging doorlocks in the TA andon the IONEC lessened the unfamiliarity of imprisonment. Massaging mychafed wrists, I surveyed my new surroundings. The cell was bare exceptfor a dirty lavatory, a concrete bench with a plastic foam mattress andone grubby blanket. I rolled the blanket into a pillow and lay down onthe mattress to await Wadham's arrival.At 8 p.m., the flap in the door slapped open, two eyes briefly checkedme, the bolt slammed back and two police officers entered the cell.ÒK, let's have a Full Monty,' they ordered, then escorted me inhandcuffs to the interview rooms where Wadham was waiting. We onlyspoke briefly. There was not much he could do, as we did not yet knowwhat evidence SB had. He gave me a book, a biography of former primeminister Gladstone, and some fresh fruit, which would make the eveningpass more easily.I slept well that night despite the primitive bedding arrangements,aided by a sleeping pill given to me by the police doctor. The nextmorning, after a stodgy cooked breakfast reminiscent of army food, theduty sergeant escorted me back to the interview rooms where Wadham andtwo police officers waited. They introduced themselves as DetectiveInspectors Ratcliffe and Durn of the Metropolitan Police SB. For therest of the morning and until late in the afternoon, they grilled mepage- 165 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com
The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comrelentlessly, the tape-recorder whirring in the background, graduallyrevealing their evidence against me. First, the copy of the synopsis Ihad given to Martyn and the transcript of her interview with theAustralian police. Then the transcript of a second interview with her,which Ratcliffe and Durn had flown to Sydney to conduct themselves.Finally, the Àlex Huntley' documents. Just before 6 p.m. they chargedme with breaking section 1 of the 1989 OSA. The duty sergeant refusedbail and remanded me in police custody until a magistrate's hearing onMonday.Àt least Ratcliffe did not try to charge you for the Huntley passportand driving licence,' Wadham explained to me sympathetically after theduty sergeant had left us for a moment. `They could have charged youunder the 1911 OSA for that, which carries a maximum sentence of 40years.' Several months later Wadham learned that MI6 had pressed thepolice hard to charge me under this act. Thankfully, Ratcliffe arguedthat the charges would not stick because I had not knowingly stolen thedocuments.Although the prospect of prison was unpleasant, I was not undulyworried. Indeed, I felt a sense of relief. By arresting and chargingme, MI6 were blatantly exposing their hypocrisy in preventing me takingthem to the tribunal. If the courts were `secure' enough for them toprosecute me for breaking the OSA, then why were they not `secure'enough for me to take them to an employment tribunal? My arrest wouldget considerable media coverage and it would be more embarrassing anddamaging for MI6 in the long-run than it would be for me. Indeed, therewere positive aspects of the arrest: until then I had been referred toas Àgent T' in newspaper reports because MI6 had used an injunction tosuppress publication of my real name. Now my name would be in thepublic domain and I would be able legally to tell friends, relativesand future employers about my previous career and the shoddy way I hadbeen treated. It was quite a relief to leave the shadows, even if itwas via a dark prison cell.Later that evening the duty sergeant unlocked my cell and took me tothe forensic laboratory where police technicians took my fingerprintsand photographs and a DNA sample by scraping the inside of my cheekwith a spatula. The data would be stored on the police's centralcomputer. Ìf you are acquitted of the charge then you can apply tohave these records destroyed,' explained the technician, `but untilthen, welcome to the criminal fraternity,' he added with a smile.The remainder of the weekend was spent in the dirty cell with Gladstonefor company. I wondered what MI6 hoped to achieve by prosecuting me.Passing the synopsis to Martyn had done no harm - it probably had satgathering dust in her filing cabinet until Federal Agent Jacksonvisited. Even if she had shown it to the top dog in the KGB, it wasanodyne and innocuous. Prosecuting me would not solve the dispute, itwould just exacerbate it. Even if they gave me the maximum sentence oftwo years, I would be out of jail relatively soon, and then what? Onrelease I would be without a job and a lot more pissed off.On Sunday afternoon I was permitted a short visit from my father, whohad driven down from Cumbria bringing a change of clothing and a washkitso that I could be presentable for my bail hearing the followingday. Wadham came later that evening to discuss the appearance. Ì'vepage- 166 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com
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