The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comhe breach the CX threshold and give me anything that was not already inthe public domain. Nor did he give any more indications ofrecruitability. My optimism that he could become a good agent was nowstarting to look ill-founded and my priority shifted to ending themeeting and getting safely back to the UK. It was 1605 before he movedon to cognac and I could get the bill. A few minutes later, as Ianxiously checked my watch again, he casually dropped the bombshellthat he had `checked me out'.We shook hands outside the restaurant, next to his car which hadmiraculously escaped parking fines. `Thank you for the meal, Ben,'Obradovich said without much sincerity.`I'll be in touch soon,' I replied, with equal insincerity.Obradovich half-turned to his car, then called over his shoulder, `Goodluck.' He sounded as sincere as a bishop in a brothel. I smiled,clenched my bag and ducked out of sight around the corner.With only nine minutes before the train was due to depart, I threw myshoulder bag on to the back seat of a dirty black Fiat and leapt inafter it. `Station,' I yelled at the taxi-driver. He looked at meblankly through the rearview mirror. I cursed myself for not havinglearnt the correct Serbo-Croat word before leaving. `Bahnhoff,' Ishouted, hoping that like most Serbs he would understand some German.There was no sign of comprehension. I cursed again, struggling butfailing to remember the Russian word which I had once learnt - Serbianwas a close linguistic relative. `Chuff, Chuff, Chuff,' I pumped myarm, pulling an imaginary whistle, Casey Jones style. The taxi-driverbroke into a smile, clunked down the arm of the mechanical meter, andengaged gear. Seven minutes to go - I should just make it.The driver jerked the hand-brake back on the moment he released it, asa tram, four carriages bursting with shoppers and commuters, clanked infrom behind. We were cut off. We couldn't move forward because the leadcarriage and a half of the tram were blocking us. To the rear,passengers were embarking and disembarking from the rear carriages,flooding across the gap to the pavement. I cursed again, aloud thistime, as valuable minutes slipped away. The wait for the passengers tosort themselves out seemed interminable. The last was an old lady,weighed down with hessian shopping bags. A couple of guys disembarkedfrom the carriage to let her on, then squeezed back on to the last stepthemselves. At last the tram drew away, its brakes hissing as thecompressed air was released.The taxi-driver sensed my urgency and put his foot down as we weavedbetween the thankfully sparse traffic, but even so it was 1625 as wedrew up alongside the station. I shoved a fistful of Deutschmarks intohis grateful hands, grabbed my bag and sprinted into the station. Therewas no time to buy a ticket. A quick glance at the departures board -thankfully the destinations were still written in Latin script ratherthan the now obligatory Cyrillic - showed that my train left fromplatform eight. Like a character in a poorly scripted film, I sprinteddown the platform and jumped on to the footstep of the nearest carriageas the train lazily pulled away.page- 94 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com