Motorbike Men HTML version

CHAIRMAN - Cabinet Secretary and Head of the Civil Service – Sir Robin Algar
Foreign and Commonwealth Office. - Permanent Secretary – Sir Wilfred Forsyth
Secret Intelligence Service (MI6). - Director General (‘C’)
Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ) - Director
Home Office. - Permanent Secretary – James Burgess
Security Service (MI5) –Director General(‘M’)
Joint Terrorism Analysis Centre
Ministry of Defence. - Permanent Secretary – Sir Len Watkins
Defence Intelligence Staff (DIS). - Chief – General Pearson-Jones (PJ)
Treasury. - Permanent Secretary – Brian Hooper
Department for Trade and Industry. - Permanent Secretary
Department for International Development. - Permanent Secretary
Chief of the Assessments Staff.
Other Departments. - attend as necessary.
Jack Barclay had never been a very good-looking man, which was probably
why marriage had passed him by. His lively personality wasn’t enough for most
women looking to the future, although he had enjoyed his share of girl friends in the
past. But nothing approaching a lasting relationship had ever materialised.
Some women had felt sorry for him, probably because he appealed to their
mothering instinct in some peculiar way. He had not been blessed with good looks at
birth, and life had done nothing to improve things for the poor man. He had a
horrendous scar across his forehead and through one eyebrow, the result of
‘something-or-other in the Army’ – nobody was quite sure, because he had never said.
It was actually an accident at school, when he and his twin brother both fell off the
same bicycle they were riding while going too fast down hill. His brother had
collected a very similar scar, oddly enough. There wasn’t a lot of Jack’s nose left,
either, thanks to many an opposition boot on the rugby field. Neither had his two front
teeth ever really straightened out after his head-on smash on the ice with a fellow who
could skate rather well, while Jack was still trying to stay upright. In time, though, he
became an excellent skier.
And he was on the short side of being tall. Vertically deprived, he called it.
For some, five foot seven would have been enough, but although he never actually
complained about it, the fact was that most women, and almost all other men, made
him feel as if he was standing in a hole.
So, as an up-shot of all this, he lived on his own, most recently in a second-
floor flat in Battersea, which he had bought as a London bolt-hole when he felt he