A Hostile State Adrian Magson (reading e books txt) 📖
- Author: Adrian Magson
Book online «A Hostile State Adrian Magson (reading e books txt) 📖». Author Adrian Magson
‘He’s a professional, yes—’
‘Good. The fact is he’s a hired gun. No more, no less. I assume he works for the private sector as well as the CIA?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Then he chose his line of work and has to understand that we’re under no obligation to help him if he got careless and picked up some attention in whatever else he’s been involved in. We cannot endanger the current US negotiating position with Moscow to get him out of whatever jam he’s gotten himself into.’
Callahan took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could, ‘He’s anything but a hired gun.’ He sensed some warning looks from others at the table for pursuing this, not least Sewell, and knew he was pushing his luck. He ignored them. It was too late for that. Fuck ’em. He continued, ‘Watchman has performed several dangerous assignments on our behalf in many situations where we could not send accredited staff operatives. He even saved the life of a State Department employee – a colleague of yours, incidentally – by pulling him out of a lockup in Ukraine at great personal risk to himself.’
Broderick wasn’t listening. He shook his head in a dismissive manner. ‘Be that as it may, the decision has been taken at the very top, Callahan.’ In case there was any doubt as to what he meant, he raised a single finger in the air. ‘And I mean, the top.’ He stared balefully at Callahan. ‘If you feel unable to accept that decision I suggest you need to consider your next comments very carefully.’
The silence that followed such a clear threat was total, punctuated only by the shuffling of feet as others got ready to vacate their chairs. Some were no doubt keen to move away from any potential collateral damage heading in Callahan’s direction. Most had their heads down, whether from passivity or embarrassment Callahan couldn’t tell.
Then George Jackson from the Defence Intelligence Agency spoke up. ‘Notwithstanding all that,’ he said carefully, ‘and I’m sure those at the top have given it careful thought, but has this decision been run past the various committees of the National Intelligence Community? I ask that because the asset on the ground in this case was ours and there are serious ramifications we all have to consider here, namely that your proposal suggests leaving the contractor Watchman – an American citizen, as Mr Callahan has reminded us – out in the cold. That’s pretty damned outrageous in my view, and threatens the safe conduct and conclusion of any future assignments where we have to employ contractors rather than our own field officers.’
There were mutters of agreement around the table. In response Broderick gave a smile that barely moved the skin around his mouth. ‘Thank you for your input, Mr Jackson. I’ll be sure to pass your comments upstairs.’ His eyes swept the room like twin barrels of a gun. ‘However, in case anyone else here shares your doubts, I can assure you that all the necessary approvals and oversight procedures have been carefully dealt with.’ He looked at Jackson and said, ‘In addition, to correct a point you made, I understand this man is not solely a US citizen but has dual nationality status with Britain. So I suggest we let them look after him. We have more than enough to do.’
Jackson looked as if he was about to respond, but clamped his mouth shut and glanced at Callahan with a look of apology.
‘Shut down all communications with this man, Callahan,’ Broderick ordered bluntly. ‘As of now he’s on his own.’
Callahan said nothing. He got to his feet and walked to the door. There was nothing left to say. He was grateful for the support from Jackson and Breakman but was too angry to speak let alone excuse himself. It was no good appealing to Sewell, who remained in his seat, eyes fixed on the table. The assistant director looked stunned and Callahan figured the orders really had come from on high, and that all the possible arguments had been put forward and knocked back.
It made him wonder, though, about the eventual effects when this decision became known in the wider intelligence community, as it surely would. Passing off responsibility for someone you employed, no matter how tangentially, never reflected well on an organization, especially one which valued loyalty and service as highly as did the CIA.
Broderick looked surprised by his move and barked, ‘Where are you going?’
Callahan paused, his hand on the door. ‘I’m going to give Watchman his final orders, Mr Deputy, as you requested. Just so he doesn’t become an embarrassment to the State Department or the White House. And I’ll make sure to tell him that he’d better get on with saving his own ass because it looks like we no longer have the moral guts to do it for him in case we upset those friendly folks over in the Kremlin.’
The door closed behind him leaving a roomful of stunned people and a heavy silence.
EIGHTEEN
Callahan strode back to his office in a mood of white hot anger. Broderick and his kind were doing nothing less than throwing Portman to the dogs, all in the name of political expediency. Was this the new mantra – don’t anyone rock the boat even if we allow a good man to go down in the process? If so it was cowardly and counter-productive. When other contractors got wind of it, the likelihood was that it would frighten away good operatives; nobody wanted to work for an employer who was prepared to leave them hanging when things got tough.
He put his head in the main outer office where Lindsay was sitting at
Comments (0)