The Big Breach - Index of
The Big Breach - Index of
The Big Breach - Index of
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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Big</strong> <strong>Breach</strong>; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments <strong>of</strong> http://www.192.complan to achieve the objective. Third, it would illustrate the workingsand immense size <strong>of</strong> MI6's central computer index, or CCI. This is amammoth computerised databank containing records <strong>of</strong> everybody with whomany member <strong>of</strong> MI6 has come into contact operationally since the start<strong>of</strong> record-keeping in 1945. <strong>The</strong> biographical details <strong>of</strong> our randomvictims were to be fed into this computer to see what, if anything,would be unearthed. <strong>The</strong> size <strong>of</strong> the database was such, Ball explained,that it was rare for an IONEC not to chance upon at least oneindividual with a mention in the CCI on a random trawl <strong>of</strong> the pubs <strong>of</strong>Portsmouth,Pushing open the heavy mock-Victorian door <strong>of</strong> my designated pub, theHole In <strong>The</strong> Wall on Great Southsea Street, I felt apprehensive.Although a simple exercise, it was our first test and I wanted to get<strong>of</strong>f to a good start. We'd been given an œ8.50 advance to buy ourselvesand targets a couple <strong>of</strong> drinks, so I made for the bar intending to makethe most <strong>of</strong> it. Scanning the room for potential targets I was alarmedto find the pub empty. Ordering a pint <strong>of</strong> Guinness, I dismissed thebarman as a potential prey. Old, fat and surly, there was little chance<strong>of</strong> getting him to talk. I sat down in a red-velveted alcove with a view<strong>of</strong> the entrance and waited for better prospects.Time slipped by with the Guinness. I was starting on my second pintbefore the first customers, a smooching couple, straggled in. <strong>The</strong>ywould not welcome the approach <strong>of</strong> a stranger. <strong>The</strong>n a rowdy bunch <strong>of</strong>youths marched in to play pool. It would be difficult to mix with themand single one out for inquisition. A glance at my watch showed only 20minutes before the minibus would return to pick me up. <strong>The</strong> exercise wasgetting awkward.At last my luck changed as two girls wandered in. I watched as theybought drinks and settled into an alcove. In their 20s, they werecasually dressed, one pretty, the other less so and a bit overweight.Probably flatmates out for a quiet drink. I had to act quickly - notonly because time was running out, but also because the pool playershad noticed the girls and were egging each other on to make a move.Swearing I would never do this again, I picked up my Guinness, walkedover and asked if I could join them. To my relief they agreed. `You'renot from round here, are you?' the fat one asked as soon as I wasseated.`What makes you think that?' I asked.`Your accent. You're from up north,' she volunteered. `What are youdoing here?'Her curiosity was encouraging and an opportunity to implement my plan.`I'm a yacht skipper and I'm delivering a Contessa down from Scotlandto Cherbourg.' <strong>The</strong> girls listened with interest to my brazen lying.`But my mate just got ill and went home. I've called in to Portsmouthto find a new hand and restock.'We chatted about the boat, the voyage, my apocryphal crewman, how I hadgot into the job. I fabricated everything on the spot, drawing on mylimited sailing experience. Just like talking to the soldiers in thebar in Belgium, it was alarming that the art <strong>of</strong> deception came sopage- 33 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version <strong>of</strong> this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com