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The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comI didn't stand up to greet him - that would disclose to an observerthat we were expecting each other - but indicated for him to sit downand, following Ball's briefing introduced myself as successor to`Peter', APOCALYPSE's former case officer. I established a cover storyfor our meeting as quickly as possible, as we had been trained. Ìfanybody should ask how we met, you should simply say that you walkedinto the caf‚, saw me reading The Economist, and went up to speak to meas a fellow Brit.' APOCALYPSE nodded, but he still seemed cautious.Ball had trained us on the IONEC to build a rapport with an agent toease nerves or suspicion. `Nice boots,' I commented, nodding at his newTimberlands. `Did you buy them here?'Soldiers love talking about boots and APOCALYPSE was no exception.Àye, excellent piece of kit, these, can't fault 'em.' APOCALYPSEstarted to open up and once the rapport was established it was time tostart the debrief. APOCALYPSE briefed me that he was in Italy to meet acontact in the Italian mafia who had access to Soviet weaponry byvirtue of their links with the Libyan government. APOCALYPSE hadnegotiated the purchase of 20 SA-14 anti-aircraft missiles. Theconsignment would be shipped from Tripoli in a tramp steamer to theIrish coast, where, under cover of darkness, it would be unloaded intorigid hull inflatables. Once landed, the missiles would be drivenovernight to an IRA safe house near the border.It was important information, but APOCALYPSE didn't know the sort ofdetail which would enable Head Office to act on the intelligence. Theywould want the name of the tramp steamer, its departure date, the exactdate it would arrive in Ireland. APOCALYPSE promised that he could getthe answers from his fictional contact. We arranged to meet again twodays later, this time in a different caf‚, the Bar di Poniente on thewest side of the town. I reminded APOCALYPSE of our cover story for themeeting and left.I scurried back to the Pensione Arena, locked the door of the simpleroom and, using the Pentel pen provided by TOS/SW, wrote up theintelligence in block capitals in the standard format of a CX report.At the top, a brief one-line summary of the intelligence. Next, thedate of the meeting at which the information had been acquired. Then abrief description of the source - Àn excellent source with directaccess, who has reported reliably in the past,' I wrote. Then the textof the intelligence. It all fitted on to one page of A4 paper from mypad of water-soluble paper. Putting the sheet face-up on the bedsidelocker, I laid a sheet of ordinary A4 over it, then on top of them bothThe Theory of Postwar Urban Redevelopment. Five minutes was enough forthe imprint transfer to the ordinary A4. The sheet of water solublepaper went into the toilet bowl and in seconds all that was left was atranslucent scum on the surface of the water which was flushed away.Back in the bedroom I took the sheet of A4, folded it into a brownmanilla envelope and taped it into the inside of a copy of the Gazzettadello Sport. I had to work quickly because there wasn't much timebefore the 2 p.m. meeting with the Eric.He was sitting at the Caf‚ Leoni's crowded bar, milling with officeworkers on their lunchbreak. His dark jacket and red tie, recognitionfeatures which Ball had briefed us to look out for, were easy to pickout. In front of him was a nearly finished glass of beer and a foldedpage- 55 - 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.comcopy of the Gazzetta dello Sport. Squeezing into a gap between him andanother customer, I placed my own copy next to his and ordered acoffee. Wordlessly, Eric picked up my paper and left. I enjoyed mycoffee, leaving 15 minutes later with Eric's newspaper under my arm.Even if surveillance were watching me, only the most acute observerwould have noticed the brush contact.There was not another meeting scheduled with Eric until the followingmorning, but there was plenty to keep me occupied for the rest of theafternoon. Ball had told us to do a house recce, as we had learnt onPERFECT NEIGHBOUR. The scenario was the same - it was a suspected IRAsafe house and we were to help TOS plan a bugging operation. Number 41Via Antonio Gruinaci was on the east side of the town. That afternoon,a casual stroll past gave me a first look. A detached three-storeyhouse, probably of post-war construction, it was stuccoed in a creamycolour and set just off the road with a small iron gate leading intothe front garden. There was a new and expensive Lancia parked in thedrive. I strained to get a better look at the small plaque hanging fromthe side gate: `Studio di Architectura, M di Rossi, Pietrangelo DiVito, M Caracci.' I memorised as much detail as I could but no amountof written detail can beat a good photograph. We had not been issuedwith covert cameras - that would be far too compromising if we werearrested - so I took a photograph openly with my Pentax SLR. Ifquestioned, I would claim that it was part of my research. It would beenough to make a good report for the DS - not as good as on PERFECTNEIGHBOUR, but good enough given the limited time. I stashed the cameraaway and hurried back to the pension.The rest of the afternoon was spent doing the work a real academic on aresearch visit might do. Maria Vialli, a pretty assistant clerk in thetown hall planning department, provided me with maps of the town beforeand after the war and photocopies of town records. `You're in luck,'she told me in good English, `the local priest who has lived here allhis life is displaying his collection of sketches of the town from 1945to present - you should go and have a chat with him.' She gave me herbusiness card in case I needed to contact her again. At the gallery,just underneath the town hall, the priest, Monsignor Berlingieri, washosting the exhibition, humbly showing visitors around his pictures. Hewas delighted to escort me around the collection and two hours later,the tour finished, I pressed a calling card into his hand to ensurethat he would remember my name.Eric was waiting for me the following morning in a third caf‚, just offthe town square. The Gazzetta dello Sport swap was two-way this time.My copy contained the write-up of the house recce and a canistercontaining the undeveloped film and there was a message for me inEric's copy.Back in my room at the Arena, the brown envelope inside the papercontained a plain sheet of A4 paper. Surprisingly, there was also athick wadge of œ50 notes, amounting to œ1,000 in total. Eager for anexplanation, I moistened a ball of cotton wool with the doctored Poloaftershave and applied it to the blank sheet and waited. Nothinghappened. I reversed the sheet and tried again. This time typed scriptgradually appeared, faint pink at first, then darkening to a deeppurple. It was a message from the Rome station:page- 56 - 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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