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.comeasily and surprising how gullible strangers could be. <strong>The</strong>y told methey were nurses and had only recently moved to Portsmouth.Encouragingly, they had done some sailing and were keen to continue nowthat they were living on the coast.`Do you know anybody who might be interested in helping this weekend?'I asked. <strong>The</strong> girls glanced at each other, checking whether the otherwas thinking the same. `Perhaps yourselves?' I pressed home.`Sure,' the pretty one replied hesitantly, then turned to her flatmateas if to speak for her. `Sure, we're free this weekend.'It was easy once they were baited. In order to get in touch with themagain, I asked for their names, addresses and telephone numbers, whichthey neatly printed in my notebook. On the false pretext that I neededto clear them with Customs in advance <strong>of</strong> our departure, I asked if theyhad their passport numbers handy. That too was no problem: the prettyone got up and phoned home to another flatmate and asked her to readthe numbers. With only a few minutes to go, all the details required byBall and Long were in my notebook. With my mission accomplished, I badethe unfortunate pair goodbye, promising that I would soon be in touch.I climbed into the minibus a few minutes later. It was bursting withanimated chatter. <strong>The</strong> others, some a bit tipsy, were elatedlydescribing how they conned innocent pub-goers into providing personaldetails. Markham had affected a silly French accent and pretending tobe a student from Paris, claimed that his mother, who worked in theFrench passport agency, had told him that all British passport numbersended with the numbers `666'. <strong>The</strong> incredulous victim rubbished theboast, so Markham bet him five pounds that it was true. <strong>The</strong> targethurried home to collect his passport, chuffed to be making some easymoney out <strong>of</strong> a stupid Frenchman. Markham noted down the number, equallychuffed.Castle, reflective <strong>of</strong> his background in the city, posed as a marketingconsultant and distributed to each drinker a questionnaire that he hadprepared in advance. <strong>The</strong> form enquired about the clients' drinkinghabits, purportedly on behalf <strong>of</strong> a major brewing company, and at thebottom were spaces to fill in name, address and passport number. Castlesipped orange juice on his own for an hour, pleased that he couldpocket the cash advance, and then collected the completedquestionnaires.Hare found an old man drinking on his own, wearing the wartime maroonberet <strong>of</strong> the Parachute Regiment. <strong>The</strong> lonely veteran was happy to talkto somebody interested in his army career, and he readily volunteeredhis army number, as good as a passport number for the CCI.`Is everyone accounted for?' called Ball from the driving seat, turningto check the rabble behind him. Long read out the roll call, withdifficulty against the chatter. Bart, much the worse for drink, repliedwith a loud belch. All were present except Spencer. We waited a fewmore minutes before Ball decided that we would have to look for him anddrove round to Spencer's watering hole, the Coach & Horses on theLondon Road, a notably boisterous pub. Spencer was not waiting outside,so Long went to look for him. <strong>The</strong> MI6 trainee was found, very much theworse for drink, in the midst <strong>of</strong> a lively party. He had not devised apage- 34 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version <strong>of</strong> this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com