condensed master

The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
given enough to use until yesterday, but he now needed more.
Turning back to the counter, the events of the previous night came flooding
back into his conscious mind. Miles was still out front bending over some papers
on the counter. "What now, Brenner?" he asked impatiently.
"I need more shore passes, Sir."
"There has been a change of instruction Brenner, I can only issue one pass
each day." His head was moving up and down as he appeared to be trying to read
the papers on the counter, at the same time as date stamping the pass. Will looked
directly at his face, listening intently to his voice, trying to get a hint of whether or
not he knew anything about the previous day's incident, but there was no
indication. Picking up the pass he turned to leave.
"What's the matter with you man, can't I rely on you to do your job? You
haven't signed the pass in my presence!" Miles roared. "Probably ashore half the
night!" Will hurriedly signed the pass on both sections, but at the same time
analyzing his last remark, which had given him the impression that probably Miles
Cavanagh did not know the real reason why his pass instruction had been
changed. Will felt much better.
He pushed the boat to it’s limit on his way ashore trying to make up a bit of
time, but nine knots was the maximum speed and he finished up not making much
headway. As usual, there was very little activity on the quayside as he tied the
boat up to a bollard. It had started to rain slightly, prompting him to pull up his
collar as he made his way up the cobbled incline.
Passing the spot where his passes had fallen out of his wallet his heart began
to pound. He was terrified at the thought of meeting the guard at the gatehouse
knowing he also would have been interrogated. The customary wave would not
be given, or received. His fears were short lived however, and he became aware
that there was a new man in the gatehouse. Giving up the outgoing portion of his
pass he made his way up to the level of the street. Pausing before turning toward
the Post Office, he scanned the street in both directions.
What was he looking for? Was he being watched? There was no sign of the
agent that had helped him gather up the contents of his wallet. Everything
appeared normal, but wasn’t that usually the case? Trying to shrug off the anxious
thoughts that came over him, Will went about his daily routine.
During the remainder of his stay at Gourock and on later visits when the
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