Hart of Empire Read Free Page B

than insane - it was guaranteed to get him killed. 'I'm flattered that you've considered me for such an important mission, Prime Minister,' he began, careful not to sound ungrateful, 'but, with all due respect, I fail to see how I fit the bill. I'm still young and learning my profession, I've never been to Afghanistan, and I've no experience of espionage. Surely it would make more sense to send an agent of the Indian government who knows the country and can speak the lingo.'
    'You might think so, Captain Hart,' said Salisbury, 'but we and the Indian government don't always see eye to eye. For the last few years they've been pursuing a quite different--'
    Beaconsfield raised his hand. 'I don't think we need to go into that, Salisbury. Suffice to say, Captain Hart, we have our reasons. As for your fitness to undertake this mission, I can think of no one better. Yes, you are young, but you were the best in your class at Sandhurst and your feats in Zululand confirm you as an officer of outstanding promise. You've shown bravery, endurance, resourcefulness and integrity, all qualities that are needed for the Afghan mission. I'm told you pick up languages easily, that you are an excellent horseman - and you have one important advantage over almost any other British officer for an undercover operation of this nature, and that is - how shall I put this? - you're . . .'
    'Expendable?' suggested George, one eyebrow raised.
    'Why on earth would you think that?' asked the Prime Minister.
    'I apologize, Prime Minister, I was being flippant, though it strikes me that you'd be much less likely to send a titled member of the Brigade of Guards than a misfit like me.'
    Beaconsfield smiled. 'There's more to it than that.' He turned to the duke, who was still standing by the fireplace, a glass of whisky in hand. 'Your Royal Highness, would you mind if I had a word in private with young Hart?'
    'Not at all. I'll be next door.'
    'You too, Salisbury.'
    The Foreign Secretary frowned. 'Is that really necessary, Prime Minister?'
    'Yes.'
    Once the pair had left the room, Beaconsfield turned back to George, a faint smile playing on his lips. 'You may be surprised to hear this, Captain Hart, but you and I have much in common.'
    'We do?' asked an unconvinced George.
    'Yes. We're both . . . cuckoos in the nest. We may look the part, say the right things, but we don't really belong. My father was a practising Jew who baptized his children into the Church of England so that they could get on in society. Did you know that?'
    'I did not.'
    'It's true, and just as well for me because I couldn't have climbed the greasy pole if I hadn't become an Anglican. Until a few years ago Jews couldn't vote, let alone stand for Parliament. But don't misunderstand me. I didn't always want to be a politician. Before I became an MP I tried my hand at business and writing novels. I wasn't very successful at either, which mattered to me because I always want to be the best at anything I do, and I suspect you feel the same. Am I right?'
    George hadn't given it much thought before now, but he couldn't deny he had always been fiercely competitive and had worked twice as hard as his peers at Harrow and Sandhurst.
    'I thought so. The truth is, Hart, people like ourselves don't fit neatly into English society and never will. They know it and, more importantly, we know it, which is why we will move Heaven and Earth to prove ourselves superior. Harrow and Sandhurst can't have been easy for someone of your background yet you excelled, and clearly have determination as well as brains, a combination not usually found in a pink-cheeked ensign of the Grenadier Guards. You believe we've selected you for this mission because you're nobody and therefore expendable. Far from it. You possess a range of qualities that are rarely found in someone of your age and education - not least a handsome figurehead, which, alas, I was not blessed with - and that is why we - I - would hate to lose you.'
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