Deception by Peter Burns - HTML preview

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TWO

 

 

The ring tone of Norman Brook smart phone woke him up. It is dark and very early in the morning.

For a second or two Norman wondered where he was. As he came around, he started to rub his eyes. His palms were hot and sweaty. A fog hung over his mind. One that hung over you between being asleep and being awake.

He heard the next verse of the song coming out of his smart phone. The ring tone got louder and louder. Waves of music bellowed across his bedroom forcing him to awake.

His ring tone went onto to its final verse as it continued to welcome the start of the day for him. It was still in the small hours of the day. Despite this, the ring tone continued to drone away.

God that song is annoying, he thought.

Switching the device off, He sat upright and looked at his watch.

‘Four am! You must be joking!’ he cried aloud.

He rubbed his eyes again and began to search the room for where the noise was coming from. Finding his smart phone, he immediately turned it off with a great force as though he was swatting an annoying wasp.

Happy that there was silence he contemplated turning over and going back to sleep.

However, curiosity won and he decided to see what the message was on his smart phone.

Reading the content of the subject matter and seeing whom it had come from he quickly realised an important message had come through and he had better read it fully. He double clicked the message with his left thumb opening up the note immediately and began to read it.  

It said, ‘GO TO PARIS IMMEDIATELY. MAKE SURE NO ONE FOLLOWS YOU. I WILL BE IN TOUCH AT THE USUAL PLACE. MESSAGE ENDS……. Please delete now.’

Norman groaned, and then grumbled to himself.  He started to think about why he had chosen this life. The strange life, the crazy people he had to work for. Most seemed to be more concerned about their status than making a difference. Still there were many good things about his life. One of those would now include a trip to Paris.

 He started to think about Paris and the Parisian culture. Things were not that bad really. Paris would be great to go to during the spring, French food was inordinate and so was the wine. With this thought in mind, he got out of his bed and started to walk towards his bathroom humming the French national anthem to himself and making a flippant impression of Napoleon as he walked past a wall mirror.

Memories of when he was at school learning French came rushing back to him. He remembered his French teacher. Half the class had a crush on her and he suspected half the teachers too. What was her name? That was it Miss Loreto. She was a native French tutor. He remembered how demanding she was. He remembered that when he walked in the room she insisted that everyone speak French and no English.

Norman entered his bathroom. He turned on his shower and stepped into the shower cubical. He started to wash his dreams away and his thoughts of Miss Loreto were washed away with that night’s dream.

He started to daydream as he showered. His thoughts went back to last Christmas and how a 20-year-old Secretary had taken her dog out for a walk and never returned. M.I.6 were quick to realise the importance of losing one of their diplomatic staff in Zurich. The resulting firestorm quickly involved Norman and his then partner Nicole Hodgkin. Norman and Nicole concluded that she had been kidnapped or run away. However, those theories shattered when Nicole found and then broke into her personal blog. They reveal a girl troubled by a mysterious relationship with an older man from Russia.

As the two agents raced against time to find her alive, Nicole’s inner demons and external enemies were brought to the front. Finally, in an act of betrayal Nicole was killed. She died in botched up attempt to rescue the secretary.  This left Norman to pick up the pieces. The girl and the unknown Russian were never found again. 

He dropped his soap bar that landed on his big toe.

‘Ouch’

This quickly ended his thoughts.

He picked the soap bar up from the white enamel surface. Smelling its lemon sent he continued to scrub himself for a few more minutes. Cleaned, his thoughts drifted back to his work.

He switched off the shower and stepped out of the shower cubicle onto the wooden floor. He picked up a towel from the back of the bathroom door and began drying himself off with his Egyptian towel. Once dried he began to get dressed. He selected his tailored fit navy suit with a white shirt and purple tie from his cupboard and began to get dressed

Norman lived in a one bedroom terraced house in Daisies Road, London. The bedroom had a large mirrored wardrobe. The walls were white, with a picture of a beach scene in the centre.

Once dressed and ready for the day he left his house. He headed off towards Waterloo Station. To most people this would seem strange but to Norman this was how he lived his life. Ok it was lonely but it let you focus on they what really mattered in life.

As he closed his door, he carefully and deliberately checked he was not being followed or watched by anyone. Norman walked towards a local cafe by the underground tube station with its all too familiar red and blue sign. Norman started to think about how his life had led him into this secret world.

Educated at Rugby School and Queen's College, Oxford, Norman obtained a commission in the Royal Corps of Signals in 1996. He became an Intelligence officer in the Middle East before joining the Secret Intelligence Service in 2007.

Later he became involved in Operation Boot, a plan to overthrow the Pakistan leader which failed despite US and Indian support. He was later shifted to the Balkan Office operating out of Belgrade. He was moved back to London following the disaster of a mission in Zurich. However, he had followed the book and had done nothing wrong unlike Nicole. Then when the post of joint liaison officer with the China desk came up a few weeks ago he took it.

Crossing the Road, he soon arrived at Cafe Lyon that was just nearby his home. This was the very convenient place where he met his handler for off the record conversations.  Arriving a little after 6.30, he was met by Tony Eden the senior desk head for the China station.

Having ordered a bacon roll and a mug of coffee, he headed to the toilet.

‘Morning Gordon, I see you got my message’ said Tony

‘Yes I was up anyway’ he lied.

At the toilet as always, he met his handler Tony.

He turned on the tap at the sink to drown out any surveillance of their conversation. This automatic action had been drummed into him since he joined the service in 2007.

They talked for about ten minutes during which Tony ordered Norman to travel to Paris. There he was to meet with contacts from the French Secret Service. During the discussion, Tony kept on reiterating to Norman the damage that the Chinese President’s peace moves had inflicted on the United Kingdom and the west. Norman already knew that his handler was worried about Chinese moves to disarm the major powers. Tony told him without going into any details that the UK and America shared the French Government’s view that China was threatening the international communities rule and its military operations within the Middle East and it might be required to take actions against the President of China.

‘That man, who does he think he is dictating to us how we should run our lives here in England? Really!’

Norman could not help think of the hypocrisy there. The British and the west had been doing that to China for the last few hundred years.

‘It is time we in the west did something about this Chinese Junta. Something needs to be done and we are the team that will do it’ he continued.

Soon Tony got into the details of his plan.

Tony started to tell Norman in his monotone upper class crisp voice of his that ‘the government of France and the United States have considered public warnings but we all feel that this would only encourage the Chinese President even more’

‘The Chinese seem hell bent on this path to destroy the military arms industries of all three countries and destroy some of the great work the ‘International Community’ has been doing over the last few decades’.

‘Now Norman when you meet with the French and our American cousins I want you to state that although the plans have been discussed between the United Kingdom, United States and France it was essential to make absolutely sure before final decisions are taken that none of the governments could be held accountable for such an action’.

Tony was desperate to ensure that the media did not get their hands on any linkages to the British Government. He remembered how the Foreign Office Minister had called him over to one of the lifts after a visit to one of those parties at Canary Wharf to have a word. On the way down the minister outlined what was expected. A clean death and the blame placed upon some Islamic group and no official links to MI6 or the UK government.

It was quite clear to Tony that this would be highly illegal but he felt it was one of those ‘for the greater good missions’ so the moral and constitutional side of things was not an issue. He was also sure that Norman would go along with it, as some of the liberals in the service had not yet seduced him.

Norman felt yet again that Tony was going to go off on one of his long-winded lectures. He was such an old fart. He belonged to the era of Glasnost and the Cold War not one of the IPod and 4G technology. The people of the UK did not care if we attacked China today or tomorrow as long as they were able to watch X Factor or Britain’s Got Talent, or their latest application was available.

‘This meeting is going to take place later today; someone will meet you in Paris and take you to where you need to go to. You will be meeting the CIA, MI6 and Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure so this is a good opportunity for you to shine.’

Norman of course jumped at the chance to prove himself to Tony and the wider MI6 establishment. Tony had felt that the failings of Operation Boot had damaged Norman’s career somewhat. This was a real chance to make a name for himself and build on what had happened in Zurich. It would allow him to attract some of the glory he was desperate for. All that work, late hours and dedication were going to pay off in one single move.

‘Norman make sure that the British attitude and intentions are made and understood clearly. Very Clearly. I want you to obtain their acceptance. If they do not accept them then Norman I want you to make it absolutely clear that the United Kingdom will not accept its side of the bargain, no matter what the minister has or is alleged to have said to the French’.

‘This visit is to remain secret because it involved something that the liberal press might possibly feel is an illegal murder’

‘Norman it’s imperative that you use only private transport too.’

With the conversation finished both men left the toilet. Norman returned to the table where his food and drink lay. He finished off his semi-warm bacon roll and took a few gulps of his coffee before he left for Waterloo Station and the train to Paris.

On his way to the underground tube station, he brought a small rucksack and a change of clothes from a 24 hours supermarket. He then crossing over the road and entered another supermarket where he brought a toothbrush, toothpaste and a comb. He then went down to the underground station and got a tube straight to Waterloo Station.

At Waterloo Station, he brought some coffee and a sandwich from one of those east coast American coffee shops.

The Coffee tasted like shit, but it was better than nothing and at least it kept him awake and alert.  

Once in the station, he looked up at the massive clock that guarded the main entrance and began to read the engraved sign, which said ‘Dedicated to the employees who fell in the war’

Must have been the First World War he thought, before he took another swig of his coffee. It is strange how something as central as an engraved stone can stand out and yet remain invisible to the vast majority of people.

As he walked through the train station Norman started to think about his last trip to New York a few weeks ago. One of his friends had sent him a Tweet urging him to come visit to join him and his new friends for a cup of coffee while in New York. Of course, he did not want to miss the chance to see Toby who had managed to get a job as a finance officer for the Sierra Leone UN office in New York.

He met a few hours later and after talking at length about his new job and how he missed the UK, they went to a Kenyan coffee house. There he took a sip of the coffee Toby gave him and exclaimed, “Wow! This is really, really good.’ His voice emphasising the word really.

‘What is this called’?

The coffee was so good; he practically scoffed at their reply. Today, you are sipping Kenyan AA Green Coffee.

He wished the coffee he was forcing down was half as good now.

Gathering his bearings, before going towards the ticket booth for Eurostar he checked he had his passport and some cash on him. Once at the office he booked the next train to Paris using the money and ID that he had collected from a hidden shelf in the Café Toilet. Paying by cash, he booked his ticket across the counter. The woman that served him sounded depressed and bad tempered. She looked very unwell and in some pain. He told her he was travelling to Paris for a job interview, but she seemed uninterested and it was pretty clear to Norman that this woman did not enjoy her job at all.

Arriving at the check-in barrier, he quickly inserted his ticket into the machine smiling at the young barrier controller before walking down the platform towards his modern looking express train. The train was yellow and grey and looked like a rocket perched on its side. It looked like something that would be at home in a space museum not a train station. 

Checking in at Waterloo was very slick and he was not kept waiting too long. He grabbed a small bottle of mineral water from one of the over-expensive sandwich stalls before he boarded the train.

To his surprise, on his seat was a travel goodie bag that contained a blue blanket, earplugs, sleep mask and socks that he stuffed into his rucksack in case he needed them.

The section he sat in was filled to capacity, the narrow seats made more uncomfortable by the constant shaking of the train as it started to glide off out of Waterloo Station. In the background, a baby cried as it lay in its mother’s arms. Other children grumbled. They were quickly silenced with the zealous handing out of DSI’s and Tablet computers. Most of the passengers were silent. Some drinking their drinks a bit more quickly than usual. A few of the passengers looked scared as the train approached the Channel tunnel. Norman could see that many were fearful that soon several million tons of water would be above their head. Many feared what would happen if the tunnel burst open from above and what they would do in those last few seconds before they were washed away and crushed by the downward plunging waters of the English Channel.

Nevertheless, none of this bothered Norman. He knew he would be asleep soon. Norman prided himself on being able to sleep almost anywhere and quickly fell asleep.

In his sleep, he started to dream about a beautiful and successful singer-songwriter. He dreamt he was her biggest fan. He dreamt that she replied to one of his fan letters with 'XO'. He is convinced she loved him, and that a song has been written for him. Nothing persuades him otherwise. Then the singer started to get an anonymous phone call that Norman started to play down the phone.

When Norman awoke, he was at the outskirts of Paris and the tune he was playing down the phone was being played across the in train music system.

He rubbed his eyes and then stretched out almost touching the roof of the train.

He started to look around; he noticed a man sat opposite him. He had a tanned face reflecting a quiet essence of maturity and confidence. His brown eyes were akin to a very rich chocolate cake. Then he realised it was none other than Lloyd Jones one of the old guard from French division.

‘Good morning Mr Brooke’, said Lloyd.

‘Hello Lloyd’, he said with a sigh

After a pause, Norman spoke again with the coolness of a poker player.

‘So Norman, I am glad I have bumped into you again. There is something I have being dying to talk to you about.’

‘Yes’ 

‘I understand that you have been given a new French project’

He then went on to tell Norman very quietly and quickly how he should be informing him as Section Head for France before arriving in Paris. Norman was not pleased that other people knew about his mission and what was worse it looked like he would now be chaperoned by Lloyd for the majority of his trip.

Norman and Lloyd exchanged notes and instructions after which both agreed how they would approach their little Paris problem. They discussed their mission in some detail making sure that none around them could hear what they were saying.

Solo seats lined the side of the train carriage parallel to a line of twin seats covered in pink dressing. A mixture of Families and business people occupied the seating. 

Now fully aware of his surroundings, he looked around the carriage looking out for that tell-tile sign of someone watching him too much.

Norman noticed the odd glance now and then from one of the men sat just opposite them. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. He was sure that the man had been listening to Lloyd and Norman’s conversation. Perhaps he was some bored traveller whiling away his time before he arrived in Paris. Then the man put on his headphones and Norman’s attention drifted back to the Lloyd and his conversations.

Lloyd looked out across and through the train window. He noticed the Graffiti splattered across train walls and fences. Lloyd wondered why people would risk their like just to write a few words on a wall in bright Florissant paint. The train sped under bridge after bridge and he watched as the landscape turned from green and brown to the grey concrete of Paris. Stationary trains lined line after line of the railway. Tall blocks of White and Black towers populated the areas around the railway line intersected with the odd tall green tree or bush of yellow and pink flowers.

With his attention back on Lloyd, Norman learned that Lloyd had been party to a previous meeting between Foreign Office Ministers of both France and the United Kingdom some 4 months previous. Norman found this interesting, making him more excited to get to the meeting and make a name for himself.

A short time later, the train started to slow down as it pulled into the train station. Both men could start making out the details of buildings as the train slowed down to a crawling speed.  Another train passed rushing past in the opposite direction.

In English and then French, it was announced that the train had arrived at its final destination.

Like a massive Mexican wave people started to get out of their seats and lift down their luggage, coats and belonging as they prepared to get off the train.

The train pulled into the station like a massive caterpillar pulling along the track into the station.

 The two men looked at their watches as they arrived in Paris Nord Railway Station.

‘That’s just after four o clock, not bed really’ stated Norman to Lloyd.

Walking out of the station both men strolled past the front facade that had been designed around a triumphal arch. The building was the usual U-shape of a terminus station with a main beam supported by cast iron. The Facade was lined with statues that represented the towns and cities the station was linked too.

They both took a left passing a large bazaar before crossing over the road where they sat down and ordered a coffee in the Le Cadran Du Nord. The station was very busy and was obviously a bustling beehive of activity.

Norman and Lloyd sat outside the cafe drinking their coffee when a man with a Green and Black Dublin T-shirt walked up to the two men and placed a note forcefully on the table. His action almost knocked their drinks on the ground.

Norman and Lloyd looked at the note.

A Minute later, a grey taxi pulled up and asked the two men to jump in. A grey and black Citroën Picasso Taxi then drove Norman and Lloyd through the streets of Paris. They intersected and the overlapping streets of Paris passing the various tourist traps and ghettos that littered Paris like a patchwork quilt.

As they passed Place de Vosges, Lloyd broke the silence.

‘Did you know Norman?’ He then paused

Norman sighed inside. He waited for Lloyd to commence his story and was surprised when he started to tell him about the square they had passed. It was one of the oldest and most beautiful square in Paris; apparently, this is where Victor Hugo lived.

He then suggested they grab a drink afterwards in one of the cafés on the square and then roam around the Marais on the end on the square.

Lloyd went onto to tell him that Henry IV of France built the square in 1612, over 400 years ago.

To Norman’s surprise, he found Lloyd quite interesting

‘Yes let’s grab a coffee afterwards in the square’, he paused

‘That would be most interesting’.  

A little while later, they arrived at their destination. They travelled for just over an hour arriving at the entrance to Villacoublay and the wall to a small graveyard.

Lloyd had been here before. He remembered coming here when he was a child for some reason his school has insisted on dragging him around every single church and cathedral. Once you have visited a few they all start to look the same. However, he did remember this church. It was very bland and basic and stood out against the other ornate and lavish churches that littered the landscape of Paris in the 1980’s.

As the vehicle pulled up towards the Church, all Norman started to prepare for his meeting. He was nervous. He felt like everyone feels when they are forced to stand up in front of a crowd and speak. Partly nervous and partly excited. A mix of emotions and fear. He also wanted to make sure he did not screw up in front of his new coach for he knew that if he messed up Tony would hear immediately from Lloyd.

His fearlessness was brought to an end when his attention drifted towards small TV screen in the front of the car. It was announcement of the Chinese President coming to the UK for the graduation of his daughter later in the year. At the ending of the report a pictures of Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989 an