Exit Alpha by Clinton Smith Read Free Book Online

the hole with something that looks the same but is less harmful. That’s what we do with people.’
    A question from one of the guests. ‘Why not just kill them?’
    ‘I’m glad you asked that. What if a tyrant has henchmen to carry his policies on? He’s a hydra — so killing him solves nothing. But replace him with a look-alike who diverts what he’s doing and you can steer it in a less harmful way.’
    She beamed over the lectern strip-light. ‘To make it more complex, our targets can be innocents. There may be, for instance, a scientist with a world-threatening discovery that others in his team could duplicate. So killing him won’t fix things. Better to replace him with someone who can subvert his research, cover tracks, lay red herrings. In short — although killing people is generally best practice, sometimes it’s too dangerous. Hence, Department D.’
    She gazed around the room. ‘Perhaps another guest has a question.’
    A rumbling voice. The man could have been a cantor. ‘What happens to the originals? If you replace someone innocent . . .’
    ‘An excellent observation.’ She was instantly serious. ‘The removed person is held at a secure base in perpetuum or until the five nations sign a death warrant. Which often never happens.’
    ‘So it becomes a holding pattern?’
    The man was the head of Mossad, Cain decided.
    ‘Worse. The original is tremendously dangerous because he’s alive. It’s a problem similar to the storing and disposal of nuclear waste. And no — we don’t have a solution.’
    A drawling voice from the rear of the room and south of Tennessee. ‘Like have your fillings ever come loose?’
    ‘Not since God dreamed the universe.’
    A muffled female titter.
    She completed the answer sensibly. ‘We’ve never been sprung . . . Yes sir? You over there.’
    A mid-continental accent. ‘You say dentist operative is trained different to surgeon, is it?’
    ‘Very differently indeed. It’s arts and farts. Or humanities and profanities.’ A senior cadet choked trying not to laugh, which set the rest of the room off. The young ones loved it when Ronnie was in form. ‘For instance, this very fine fellow . . .’ She motioned to Cain to stand again. He made gargoyle faces at her but got them back. Once again, he stood. ‘. . . is a dentist mark four. You’ve no idea what he’s been through to get to this level.’
    He itched to sit but she left him dangling.
    ‘Each potential Department D cadet is adopted at birth. They’re assessed for eight years and the selected children are streamed for one location, one assignment. The comparisons with The Pirates of Penzance and Fagin are obvious, ludicrous and I hope you’ll ignore them. We’ve all found it painful enough to have no parents without adding ridicule to the mix.’
    A murmur of assent through the hall.
    ‘Inducted children are trained for a minimum of twenty years before attaining what we call Protectorships. Mr Cain has been taught in London and Karachi Universities for good reasons. But academic subjects are only a little of what he learned which included diplomacy, comparative religion, English lit and languages. He was also short-course cross-trained by Department S, as are all D cadets, in survival techniques and armed combat.’
    Christ, Ron, he thought. Give it a rest.
    ‘Half a lifetime preparing for a future assignment in a specific country. An assignment which may never come — but generally does. And like an astronaut or athlete, he can only do one thing. Why? If you spend your youth training to be a weightlifter, you can’t then switch to the high jump. You’re too old to retrain — too specialised. Fortunately, Mr Cain’s immensely difficult assignment was a success, as you’ll hear when he gives his presentation. Would you care to add anything, Ray?’
    He glowered at her mischievous smile. ‘If I’d known this was all-singing, all-dancing I would have worn taps.’ The ripple of laughter