The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comcandidate has tried to hide some misdemeanour, he or she is unlikely tobe awarded an EPV. There were no skeletons in my cupboard and twomonths later a photocopied letter in a plain envelope arrivedannouncing the award of an EPV certificate and confirming the joboffer. There were no clues about what my new career would involve. TheFCO crested notepaper simply stated to `arrive promptly at CenturyHouse, 100 Westminster Bridge Road, at 10 a.m. on Monday, 2 September1991. You should bring your passport'.MONDAY, 2 SEPTEMBER 1991CENTURY HOUSE, LAMBETH, LONDON3. RECRUITMENTNervous and excited at the prospect of my first day in MI6, I had notslept well the previous night and drank too much coffee in an attemptto compensate. My palms were sweating slightly from anticipation aswell as the caffeine as I walked the couple of miles from my temporarylodgings in south London to Century House, situated in the run-downborough of Lambeth in South London. The 20-storey concrete officeblock, grubby from traffic and pigeons, but discreet and anonymous, didnot look like a glamorous place to work and was a world away from theswanky Mayfair offices of Booz Allen & Hamilton. Glancing up at themirrored windows, I tried to imagine what might go on behind them. Whatdecisions were taken, what arguments were made, what secrets werehidden from those of us on the outside? It was exciting to think ofsoon being permitted inside.There was little overt security around the building. A couple of CCTVcameras peered at passers-by, anti-bomb net curtains blanked thewindows on the first few floors, but there was little else todistinguish Century House from any other mid-rent London office block.Staff were filing into the building, some with umbrellas and newspaperstucked under their arms, others more casually with their hands in theirpockets or a sports bag slung over their shoulder.I pushed open the first heavy glass door, paused to wipe my feet on themats in the porch, then pushed open the second heavy door to enter agloomy lobby. The mushroom-brown walls and grey lino floor reminded meof the dingy Aeroflot hotel that I stayed in during my brief stopoverin Moscow. Directly opposite the entrance was a reception kiosk,glassed in up to the ceiling, with a small counter opening towards thedoor. Two security guards sat behind it, manning old-fashioned Bakelitetelephones. Either side of the kiosk were a couple of lifts, aroundwhich the incoming staff congregated, impatiently jabbing the callbuttons. A large plastic plant with dustcovered leaves stood in thecorner, mildly alleviating the gloom.A blue-suited security guard stepped forward from the reception desk.Rotund and avuncular, he had a friendly bearing. `Pass, please, sir,'he asked briskly. I hesitated and he detected my indecision. `You mustbe on the IONEC, are you, sir?' he asked.page- 25 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com