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The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comme the maximum incrimination, but caused them the minimum damage, theycould not have done a better job.The way the existence of the list was publicised to the world's presswas also odd. The first announcement was made when the Britishgovernment's official censor, Rear-Admiral David Pulvertaft, issued a`D-notice' to stop UK newspapers publishing the web address of the listor any of the names. There was no better way to generate publicitybecause immediately every journalist in Britain wanted to know what theD-notice was censoring, and foreign newspapers the world over, to whomthe D-notice was irrelevant, published the web address and even theentire list. The next peculiarity was the manner in which the FCOannounced the incident. If MI6 really wanted to limit the damage, theywould have used a junior spokesperson to dismiss the list as a hoax.Instead, British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook announced at a packednews conference that not only was the list accurate but, withoutpresenting a shred of evidence, named me as the culprit. Both thesetactics can only be explained by a plan to incriminate and discreditme.They certainly succeeded if it was their intention. Until the list wasproduced, the press had been fairly sympathetic to me. But after Cook'saccusation, the media turned on me with vitriol. In Britain, the SundayTelegraph led the charge. They accused me of being a traitor who hadrecklessly endangered the lives of MI6 officers in a selfish pursuit ofan employment tribunal and printed the I/OPS propaganda that MI6 sackedme for being ùnreliable' and `going on frolics'. Their columnistAndrew Roberts, a contemporary at Cambridge but now an establishmenttoady and friend of MI6, wrote a petty personal attack on me, makingabsurd claims such as that I cheated to gain admission to MIT. Thetabloid newsapers were equally hostile. The Sun tracked down Tosh, nowout of 602 Troop and working in the City, and paid him œ500 to claimthat I took the troop to a brothel in Split on his birthday. He e-mailed me afterwards to apologise and at least he had the guts to givethe newspaper his name, unlike some of the anonymous worms they alsodug up from my old TA regiment. The Sun also published my e-mailaddress and encouraged its readers to send me hatemail. I received overten thousand e-mails over the next week, some of them amounting todeath threats. Interestingly, however, by no means all of the e-mailswere hostile, perhaps indicating the lack of judgement of the Sun'seditor and the lack of public support for MI6. The majority of readerswho e-mailed me thought that it was a good thing to publish the namesof MI6 officers, one writing that I deserved an OBE for services tohumanity and another stating that taking Tosh to a brothel was a gooduse of MI6 money.The publication of the list had all the hallmarks of a classic I/OPSoperation to winkle me out of fortress Switzerland, an objective thatwas accomplished three weeks later. On Monday, 7 June, Inspector Brandtrang to summon me to the Geneva police headquarters at Chemin de laGraviŠre for a meeting at 2 p.m. I arrived to find a stone-facedCommandant Jourdain, in no mood for small talk. `You must leaveSwitzerland immediately,' he told me. `You are banned from enteringSwiss territory until 7 June 2004, and must be out of the country by1800 this evening.' My protests that this was an unreasonably shortperiod of notice fell on deaf ears. It would scarcely give me time topack my suitcase. Ànd we don't want any publicity in the press,'page- 223 - 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.comcontinued Jourdain. Ìf you talk to the newspapers about this, we willincrease the ban to ten years.'`So where do you want to go to?' asked Brandt. `We will book the ticketfor you.'Ì really don't know,' I replied angrily. Just about every reasonableoption was closed off. All of the anglophone countries were out of thequestion and I feared that I would have legal problems if I stayed inEurope. ÒK,' I replied, after some consideration, `get me a ticket toMoscow.' I didn't really want to go there, but I knew that Jourdainwould be uncomfortable with expelling me from Switzerland at therequest of the British only for me to seek refuge in Moscow.Jourdain stared at me for a moment while the implication sunk in. `Youdon't want to go there,' he replied. Ìt's cold and you don't speakRussian.'ÒK, then I'll go to Havana. It's warm and I speak Spanish.'From Jourdain's point of view this was no better, and he needed to seekadvice from his superiors. `Wait here while I call Berne,' heannounced. Àll right,' announced Jourdain on his return a few minuteslater. `Berne have given you an extension until 1800 tomorrow, so thatyou have more time to find a place to go,' he smiled weakly. `TelephoneInspector Brandt before 1200 tomorrow with your decision.'I was very disappointed by the attitude of the Swiss authorities. Theyhad a reputation as a neutral country who were prepared to shelterindividuals harassed by foreign powers, and I had helped them a lotover the past six months. Now they were blatantly siding with MI6 andwere expelling me for the publication of the list without any evidencethat I was the culprit. Even with the extension, there was not muchtime to sort out my plans. I had become quite established inSwitzerland, even though I did not yet have a resident's permit. MyFrench was fluent, I had made some good friends and I was getting someserious job interviews and felt that it would only be a matter of timebefore one materialised into a job. The Swiss had dealt me a low blowin forcing me to start again from scratch somewhere else (I laterdiscovered the full extent of their double standards: every time I wentfor a job interview, Jourdain rang the company afterwards and told themnot to employ me). My threats to go to Havana or Moscow had bought mesome extra time, but I did not really want to go to either of thesecities. I would not be able to work there and guessed that after a fewmonths I would be bored. Also, I was in no mood for a long journey. Irang up Geneva station and asked for a rail ticket to the nearest townnot in France or Switzerland. They booked me onto a train leaving at1735 the following evening, 25 minutes before my deadline, arriving atKonstanz in southern Germany at 2235.`Herr Tomlinson?' The voice behind me was friendly, but still my angerflashed within. It was late in the evening, I had arrived in a strangetown in a country I hardly knew and whose language I hardly spoke, itwas raining outside, I had nowhere to stay and I had only struggled afew yards off the station platform with my two heavy suitcases, yetalready somebody - presumably an official - wanted a word with me. Ipage- 224 - 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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