Inside Enemy Read Free Page A

technical. Nor is the job, is it? I hope.’
    ‘I’ll brief you. Meanwhile, you should know that we went to no end of trouble to set up a proper appointments procedure for heads of the intelligence agencies, getting agreement from
the Cabinet Office, the Home Office, the MOD, the Treasury, Number Ten, everyone. Everything was to be open and above board, posts advertised, candidates interviewed by the heads of major customer
departments, two to be put up to the Foreign Secretary, one to go forward to the Prime Minister for approval. All transparent, rational and defensible.’ She paused while they passed two very
short women pushing a trolley laden with old paper files. ‘You see what we’re having to do now, go back to paper because of all these power cuts? Hopeless. Anyway, then – heigh-ho
– a cabinet reshuffle and a new secretary of state who says he doesn’t need any damn committee to tell him what he wants, picks up the telephone to you and says come in for a chat and
it’s done, wham, bang, thank you, ma’am. Just like the old days, as if we’d never modernised at all.’
    Charles knew all about George’s views. The call to his mobile had come that morning when he and Sarah were moving into their Westminster house. Charles was lingering in his old rooftop
flat in the Boltons, mentally saying goodbye to the gardens and plane trees below as the removers struggled with boxes of books and the heavy oak desk his father had made. George Greene had been
characteristically brisk.
    ‘Charles, it’s George Greene. Long time no speak. You’ve heard about my new job? Well, I’ve got one for you. Is this a good moment?’
    ‘No, I’m in the middle of moving house.’
    ‘You’ll have heard that we’re disbanding the Single Intelligence Agency and reverting to its original constituent parts, the three intelligence agencies as were. I want you to
head your old bit, the MI6 bit. Smaller than it was, of course, money being what it is, but at least the chain of command and responsibility will make sense again. Daft idea to have the SIA
answering to a single junior minister who knows sod all when all the fruits of its work – and all the dog-turds – land in the laps of the foreign and home secretaries. Typical of the
last government. I’ve got Tim Corke to take over GCHQ. You know him? Good. Anyway, the officials here had set up some balls-aching appointments procedure for senior posts in the SIA which
they fondly imagine we’re going to be using for the new heads of agency. Expect us to advertise the jobs and open them to anyone in the EU, if you’ve ever heard such crap. I’m
ignoring it, of course. With the Prime Minister’s support. Come in and have a chat later today, unless you want to say yea or nay now.’
    ‘I can’t. I’m in the middle of moving house.’
    ‘Two minutes. This afternoon will do. Just two, I promise.’
    Angela stopped in her outer office to say something about the permanent secretaries’ meeting, waving Charles on. Her office was about the size of the Foreign Secretary’s but lacked
his double aspect. There were three paintings, one of a life-like turnip, one a green-and-white-striped rectangle and the other a medley of muddy colours with a single pinpoint of white just
off-centre.
    ‘My predecessor’s choices,’ she said, closing the door. ‘I suppose I should find time to change them. It was the first thing George did, of course, on his first morning.
He chose sea battles against the French and Spanish as – quote – reminders for Johnny Foreigner – unquote. His very words. Hardly
communautaire
for a foreign
secretary.’ She dumped an armful of files and papers on the desk. Even as a young second secretary in Vienna she was always hurried, as if everything she dealt with was by definition
important and urgent. Presumably it was, now. For a moment, however, the determined busyness of her expression softened into lined weariness. She looked