The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comThen the television remote control. `So you can see what I've beenwatching on telly?' I asked.Finally they helped themselves to one of my suitcases, loaded it up andannounced they were ready to interview me at the Rimini police station.Glancing behind as they escorted me out, I realised they had cleared myroom of everything of value. The only thing they couldn't get in mysuitcase was the television containing the precious disk.Verrando interviewed me for six hours before he realised that I haddone nothing illegal and that the British police had abused the powersof the Mutual Assistance Act. But by then it was too late. Thejobsworths were on their way back to London with all my belongings.They returned my suitcase a few days later when I faxed the head of SBin London with a description of their incompetence, but I never saw mycomputers, software, CDs, mobile phone or TV remote control again.A few days later, Verrando wrote asking me to go back to the policestation. I ignored his request, thinking it meant trouble. I had justapplied for registration in Rimini, which I needed in order tolegitimise my presence in Italy, and presumed that Verrando wanted totell me that I couldn't have it and order me to leave Italy. If theywanted me urgently, they would come and get me, I reasoned. I heardnothing more until I bumped into an off-duty Verrando browsing the topshelf of a newsagent's in the town centre. `Why didn't you come to seeus the other day?' he enquired politely, hurriedly grabbing aphotography magazine from a lower shelf. `Your permit is ready. TheBritish embassy in Rome rang us and asked us not to give you one, so wedecided to give you it immediately so that they would not be able totake the decision up to the Interior Ministry.'But I was underestimating their capacity for spite. MI6 might have lostthe support of the Italian police, but that didn't deter them. Drivingup the autostrada to Milan to see an Italian lawyer about theconfiscations, I found that I was under surveillance. It started offdiscreetly just outside Rimini, but by Bologna I had made repeatsightings and noted the number plates of three cars - a white FiatPunto, a silver Volkswagen Golf and a grey Fiat Bravo. The Golf got soclose on several occasions that I could clearly make out the driver, aswarthy character dressed in a red vest. I rang the lawyer in Milan foradvice, and he called the police. They told me to pull into theStradale Nord service station, just outside Piacenza, and I watched inmy rear-view mirror as the Punto and Golf followed me off the motorwayand parked up behind the service station complex, partially shielded bysome bushes. The Fiat Bravo continued up the motorway, no doubt to parkup in a lay-by to watch for when I left the service station. TheItalian police arrived 20 minutes later in a Fiat patrol car, and Iexplained the situation to them. They were sceptical at first and I hadto stretch my Italian vocabulary to persuade them that I was notcompletely mad. They realised I was not a crank when they eventuallyapproached the two vehicles. The four occupants promptly abandonedtheir cars, scattering into the nearby woods. `Go on, shoot, shoot!' Iurged the police, pointing at the machine-guns hanging from theirwaists, but disappointingly they were not too enthused by the idea.The police poked around the vehicles to see if the occupants had leftany traces of their identity, but there was nothing except empty cokepage- 230 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com