So many times over the years, family friends had congratulated him on his desk job with Intelligence. He had only two medals to show for eighteen years in the Army: the South Atlantic ribbon for the Falklands Campaign and the Campaign Medal for Northern Ireland that all soldiers whod served there received. It was ironic when you thought of River Street in Derry, the four dead Provos, and the many similar occasions for Unit 16, and yet the two people closest to him, his sister and his wife, didnt have even the slightest hint of that part of his life. Hed never go away for more than a week at a time and was always supposed to be at Catterick, Salisbury Plain, Sandhurst or Germany, somewhere like that.
He took a deep breath, squeezed Monicas hand, the music started to play and then the lights dimmed and the curtains parted. It was the old, wonderful excitement, just what he needed, and then his wife entered stage-left looking fantastic, the woman with whom he had fallen hopelessly in love on their first meeting so many years before, and his heart lifted.
The performance was a triumph, earning four curtain calls; young Carlton was more than adequate and Olivia superb. Shed booked a late dinner at a favourite French bistro in Shepherd Market, and the three of them, she and Miller and Monica, thoroughly indulged themselves, sharing a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne.
Oh, Im very pleased with myself, Olivia announced.
And, youve got tomorrow to look forward to, Monica told her. Saturday night and a full house.
Ive been thinking, Miller put in. Ill arrange a car from the Cabinet Office. After the show tomorrow, well go straight down to Stokely, the three of us. Chill out on Sunday, then come back for Monday evenings performance.
Oh, you two lovebirds dont want me around, Monica told them. Ill stay the night at Dover Street and go back to Cambridge tomorrow.
Nonsense, Olivia said, Itll be nice to be together for a change, and Aunt Mary will be thrilled. She put her hand on Monicas. Just to be together. Its so important. And imagine. Weve actually got him to ourselves for a change. You and I can go shopping tomorrow.
She kissed her husband on the cheek and Monica said, I bumped into Charley Faversham at a function last week, Harry. He called you the Prime Ministers Rottweiler and asked after you. I said I understood you were visiting Kosovo. He was there during the war covering it for The Times when the Serbs were killing all those Muslims. He said it was as bad as anything hed ever seen in all his years as a war correspondent. Its different now, I suppose?
Completely, Miller told her. And Olivias right. You must come down to Stokely with us. After all, there is no one in this life I am more indebted to than the sister who argued and begged me all those years ago to take her down to Chichester Festival Theatre to see Chekhovs A Month in the Country. As you well know, I was never a Chekhov person until the girl from Boston walked in through the French windows. He reached for Olivias right hand and kissed it. And after that, nothing in my life was ever the same.
She glowed as she squeezed his hand. I know, darling, same for me.
Monica laughed. I used to despair of him. Women just didnt seem to be part of his agenda.
Well, I was hardly exciting enough, not Household Cavalry or Three Para, no red beret and a row of medals. Pretty staid, a Whitehall warrior. No real soldiering, Ive heard that mentioned enough.
And thank God for it, Olivia told him. Lets have the bill and go home.
Afterwards at Dover Street after theyd retired, he and Olivia made love very quickly, genuine passion still there. Not much was said, but the joy was there so strongly. Afterwards, she fell asleep very quickly and he lay there listening to her gentle breathing, unable to sleep himself, and finally slipped from the bed, found his dressing gown and went downstairs.
The sitting room was his favourite room in the entire house. He didnt need to switch on the lights because there was enough drifting in from the street outside. It was raining, the occasional car swishing by, and he went to the drinks cabinet, poured himself a very large Scotch and did something he only did at times of stress. He opened a silver cigarette box and lit a Benson & Hedges. It was Kosovo, of course, and what had happened, and it made him think back four years to what had got him out of the Army.
The lies, the pretence, the deceit of it all, had been giving him a problem. He was two people: the man his wife and sister thought he was, and the dealer in death and secrets. A new dimension had entered his life, a new kind of terror, just when things were looking hopeful in Northern Ireland. It was called Muslim fundamentalism. It had become apparent to him that this was where his future would unfold and the prospect filled him with a kind of despair, because he didnt want to be involved.
But fate intervened, giving him a solution. His father died of an unexpected heart attack and they buried him on a wet and miserable day at Stokely Parish Church. Afterwards there was a wake at Stokely Hall, and champagne, his fathers favourite drink, was poured, a great deal of it, in honour of a much-loved man.
Miller was standing at an open window, smoking a cigarette and considering his lot when he was approached by his fathers political agent, Harold Bell.
What are you thinking about, Harry?
Contemplating my future. If I stay with the Corps, Ill make lieutenant-colonel, but thats it. If I leave, what do I have to offer? When I was at Sandhurst, they taught me the seven ways of sorting someone out with my bare hands. I became a weapons expert, acquired reasonable Arabic, Russian and French. But what do I do with all that out of the Army?
Olivia had heard as she approached and gave him a gin and tonic. Cheer up, darling, someone might offer you a nice job in the City.
That someone is me, Bell told them, savouring his drink. But its not the City. The Party wants you to come forward as a candidate for your fathers seat. The local committee is completely behind you. Harry Miller, Member of Parliament.
Miller was shocked and couldnt think of a thing to say, so his wife did all the talking. Does that mean I get him home nights?
Absolutely, Bell assured her.
Shed immediately announced it to the entire room and he was kissed on the cheek and slapped on the back many times. Better than Iraq, or Afghanistan, old man, someone said. Youre well out of that.
He resigned his commission and was duly elected, suddenly free of what had haunted him all those years, but he should have remembered that nothing ever worked out as expected. The Prime Minister was privy to his army record and appointed him to the Northern Ireland Office, and when the Irish situation was finally settled, started sending him from one trouble spot to another.
The Prime Ministers Rottweiler that was a good one, and any guarantee he would be home nights had long since gone with the wind, and Olivia didnt like it at all.
That was one thing, but this the events at Banu it was like a return to the past. It could have been a Unit 16 operation. The shooting of the sentry, the instant execution of Zorin. The fact that hed taken the Browning with him in the first place using his political clout to circumvent security, what was that supposed to mean?
That was one thing, but this the events at Banu it was like a return to the past. It could have been a Unit 16 operation. The shooting of the sentry, the instant execution of Zorin. The fact that hed taken the Browning with him in the first place using his political clout to circumvent security, what was that supposed to mean?
He said softly, For Gods sake, Harry, what in the hell happened to you?
Maybe the genie had escaped from the bottle, but that didnt make sense. Hed always understood the genie was a supernatural creature who did ones bidding. In Kosovo, perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe it was he who had done the genies bidding.
He shook his head, unable to accept such a thought, even for a moment, and went back to bed.
At Holland Park, Roper had worked through into the middle of Saturday morning, had put together as much information on Miller as he could find. Around ten oclock, Luther Henderson, the day sergeant, came in.
Tony told me youd been at it all night, Major. I asked him if it was anything special and he suddenly turned into Mr Mystery.
Youll find out at the right time, Luther. Whats new?
Levin, Chomsky and Major Novikova have all begun that induction course at Kingsmere Hall now, trying to turn MI6 agents into good little Russians.
With all their years in Russian Military Intelligence, if anybody can do it, they can. He shook his head. Still theyre supposed to be down at Kingsmere for a month, which means we dont have them. I hope Ferguson doesnt regret saying yes when Simon Carter asked.
Its difficult to say no to Mr Carter, Major, especially when he had the Prime Ministers backing.
I suppose. Simon Carter was not popular with many people, but he was, unfortunately, Deputy Director of the Security Services, and that was difficult to argue with.
Is Mr Dillon in, by any chance?
He called about an hour ago, sir, from Stable Mews. Said hed be in later. He glanced at the main screen. What a lovely lady, sir, who might she be?
Thats Olivia Hunt, the actress, Roper told him. Shes married to Major Harry Miller, who works out of the Cabinet Office for the Prime Minister.
Is that a fact, sir?
Tell me something. Did you ever come across him, maybe in Belfast or somewhere like that? You did enough Irish time.
Five tours. Nothing like you, Major. You were never out of the bloody place. God, but you saved some lives. And that big one at the Grand Hotel in Belfast? Six bloody hours on your own. No wonder they gave you the George Cross.
Yes, I was rather good, wasnt I? Peed myself several times because there was nowhere else to go. Roper was mocking the whole business now. King of the castle until the little red Toyota turned up with the supermarket bag on the passenger seat. No big deal, only it was and here I am. Whisky and cigarettes, but no wild, wild women like the song said.
Fuck them, Major, the bastards who did that to you.
Nicely put, Luther, but alas, theres no possibility of that with anyone, so Ill settle for an invigorating shower in the wet room and would welcome your assistance.
My pleasure, sir, and as Henderson wheeled him out, he added, as to your question about Major Miller, sir, no, I never did come across him over there.
There was no sign of Roper when Sean Dillon arrived at Holland Park. He wore black velvet cords and a black bomber jacket; a small man, his hair pale as straw. Once a feared enforcer for the IRA, he was now Fergusons strong right hand. He was sitting in one of the swivel chairs examining Ropers screens when Henderson entered.
Wheres the Major? Dillon asked.
I just helped him shower in the wet room, and now hes dressing. Hell be along directly. He nodded to Olivia Hunt on the screen. A lovely lady. Know who she is?
Roper entered in his wheelchair. Of course he does. Mr Dillon was involved with the theatre himself once upon a time. Who is she, Sean?
Olivia Hunt. Born in Boston and shes illuminated the British stage for years. Thats her in Chekhovs Three Sisters. A National Theatre production a year ago.
Told you, said Roper. Well have a pot of tea, Luther, and Henderson went out.
Whats she doing there?
Im investigating her husband for Ferguson. Harry Miller, he works out of the Cabinet Office, a kind of troubleshooter for the Prime Minister. Used to be Army Intelligence. A headquarters man only, supposedly, but now it seems theres been more to him for some time. Henderson came in with the tea. Roper said, Leave us, Luther, Ill call you if I need you.
Henderson went out. Dillon said, What kind of more?
Have a hefty swig of that tea, Sean. I think youre going to be interested in what Ive found out about Major Harry Miller.
When he was finished, Dillon said, And after that, I think I could do with something stronger.
You can pour one for me while youre at it.
So you say Ferguson wants this for breakfast, American time, with Cazalet?
Thats it.
Jesus and Mary. Dillon poured the drinks. It must have been a hell of a thing, he and Blake together.
You can say that again. Come on, do you have any input?
I heard whispers about Titan, but I dont think anyone in the movement took it too seriously, or Unit 16. We had enough to deal with. You were there, Roper, you know what Im talking about. So many people got killed, far more than the dear old British public ever realized. I remember the River Street affair, though. Its true the Chief of Staff put it out as an SAS atrocity.
Gallant freedom fighters gunned down without mercy?
Thats right. So Miller left the Army four years ago, becomes an MP, helps the Prime Minister get Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness running the government together. A decent job there, actually. Im not sure I can help you too much, Roper. I left the Provos in eighty-nine to do my own thing.
Which included the mortar attack on John Majors war cabinet at Downing Street in February ninety-one.
Never proved. Dillon shook his head.
Bugger off, Sean, it was a hell of a payday for you, but never mind. Is there anything you can add to Millers story?
Not a word.
All right, then. Ill send it straight to Ferguson. Well see what he makes of it.
After breakfast at the beach house on Nantucket, Clancy passed round the coffee, and Cazalet said, So, what do you have for me, Charles?
Something so extraordinary Im surprised my laptop didnt catch fire, Mr President.
I see. Cazalet stirred his coffee. So tell us.
Ferguson started to do just that.
When he was finished, there was silence and then the President turned to Clancy, Well?
Thats one hell of a soldier.
Blake said, I knew there was something special about him the moment we met.
And you, Charles? Cazalet asked.
Obviously, I knew a certain amount about him, Ferguson answered. But Im stunned to hear the full story.
It would certainly shock his father-in-law, Senator Hunt. Very old-fashioned conservative guy, Hunt.
So, how do you want to handle this, Mr President?