'I'm afraid not. It was Hutton's people."
"Coppers!" Her eyes closed at the embarrassment of it all. "Why is Scotland Yard following Cornell if you and Sinclair bloody Hutton knew we were onto him?"
"You were only concerned about your own backyard. After the attempt on Namakobo, it was clear that Cornell was the most probable source of the leak," Davenport stated, matter of fact. "My only interest in Cornell is in getting to his associates. I was with Hutton when we received word that the faces in these photographs were your people. You weren't aware of this?"
"No, of course not. I certainly hadn't authorised physical surveillance of him. As far as I was concerned, we were following his bank accounts and got nowhere with the telephone and email intercepts. We were working on the basis that Cornell was somehow connected to a missing agent suspected of going private."
"Yes,'' Davenport ran a tired hand through his beard. "I expect you're referring to Mr. Lundt?"
Ashcroft-James nodded.
"Sorting out whoever's running major operations without your approval is a matter for you, Violet. For now, perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell me all about your man, Lundt. The truth this time." Davenport's tone suddenly took on a distinctly dangerous bite that was legend around Whitehall. "Because I agreed to put a man into the middle of this mess on the understanding that you had lost two good agents, only to find SIS suspected all along that one of them, Lundt, was bent and the other man, Collins, had actually been sent to kill him."
CHAPTER 45
London
"So, how are you corning along? On the mend?"
"Yes, Sir," Morgan replied, standing familiarly across from the General. "All good. The doctor issued me with a clean bill of health and Torn Rodgers has been putting me through the paces. I seem to be holding up OK."
"Good. That's good news. Sar' Major Rodgers is a good man. Dangerous bugger, too. You served together, didn't you?"
"Yes, Sir. Back in Australia."
It was clear the General was distracted. He was uncharacteristically preoccupied. What the hell was on his mind? They entered an uneasy silence. Davenport hadn't let on what he intended to discuss.
"You've been nominated for a bravery award, by the way." "What for, Sir?"
"Malfajiri. News travels fast through the corridors of Westminster," replied Davenport. "I received word today. And the helicopter pilot, Mason? A similar recommendation will be made to the South African government. Posthumously, of course."
"Mason definitely deserves something. But ... I was a few breaths away from coming home in a box. Fredericks and Garrett, they're the ones who should be getting medals. They fought their way back from the evacuation point, dragged me out."
"Well, apparently it's the Chiltonford management who made the submission to the Foreign Office based on the recommendations of those very men. By all accounts, you handled yourself admirably out there, Alex. In the meantime, there's work to be done."
Davenport left it hanging, and took from his desk a file emblazoned with the title DEFENDER: 0129/10. Morgan saw it. All INTREPID operations began with the designator DEFENDER, and 0129/10 was the mission number allocated to the illegal arms supply to the Malfajiri rebel forces. His spirits lifted immediately.
"So, where to from here in the search for the elusive Mr. Lundt?" the General sighed, picking up the file and motioning for Morgan to join him at the small table where Mrs. Jolley had laid out coffee.
Davenport collected his thoughts, then began: "Have you ever come across Abraham Johnson?"
"I know the name, Sir. Never met him, though." They sat down.
"Pretty senior guy over at the Foreign Office. Political Directorate, I think. Isn't he the acting boss at present?"
"Yes, that's right. Bill Evans has been out of action for many months. Cancer. Some say he may never return. Good man. What have you heard about Johnson?"
"Not a great deal. I don't get the impression he's very popular. Dictator, constantly looking for an arse to kiss."
"That's the man."
Davenport drank his coffee and took a moment to enjoy it as he gathered his thoughts. "Some time ago, I played a hunch, Alex. I sewed a seed with Mr. Johnson."
"How so?" What was the old man up to?
"I stroked his ego. Led him to believe I was taking him into my confidence over this Chiltonford issue. Wanted to see which way he'd play it. The man's driven by self-aggrandisement, has been for years. So, with the sniff of a possible victory over SIS and the chance to cement himself in as Director-General at the Foreign Office permanently, it wasn't hard to get him to take the bait."