First Strike by Jeremy Rumfitt Read Free Book Online Page B

impressed.
    “Then techno-spooks target locations associated with terrorist activity, a specific house or internet-café, or it could be an entire community or town.”
    The UK’s chief spook went to the window and looked downstream to the Palace of Westminster.
    “Of course, if any of this did leak out there’ll be an official denial that anything remotely resembling Echelon even exists.”
    “I’m impressed. But isn’t it illegal?”
    “Illegal? Of course it’s illegal. That’s why it doesn’t exist. Echelon contravenes all sorts of civil and statuary rights. But that’s the world we live in, Miss Drake, and that’s how we spotted our three Paddies. So now we have a unique opportunity to cause maximum embarrassment to the IRA. With luck it’ll be enough to cut off their US funding. After 9/11 the American public suddenly disapproves of terrorists. The Echo would be ideal, it’s always had a republican bias, comes from having an Irish editor I suppose.”
    Melanie could not believe her luck, there was enough material here to secure a Pulitzer Prize if she ever had the guts to use it. But she knew she’d have to offer something in return. There was no such thing as a freebie.
    “You said there were two things. What’s the second?”
    “We want you to lighten up on Iraq. After what I’ve just given you it’s a small thing to ask. Your interview with the President was masterly, but you over-egged the case for more time for UN inspections. More time means more delay. Number 10 wasn’t happy about that. I got a nasty email from the Minister of Truth.”
    “The Minister of...?” Melanie’s jaw stayed open.
    “Ooops! Please forget I said that.” Merlyn Stanbridge blushed. “The PM also has a problem with your claim he’s agreed a secret timetable. There is no secret timetable. There is no timetable period. Though of course it’s true he’s keen to get things started.”
    This was more than Melanie could swallow.
    “But you know as well as I do, Washington and London are rife with rumours of a secret start date for the war. Regardless of WMDs or UN resolutions. It stands to reason there has to be a timetable. A military operation on the scale of Desert Storm needs months of planning. It can’t be launched overnight, the logistics are too complex. That’s why the Americans are moving troops into the gulf. The countdown has already begun.” Melanie hesitated. “They have to contend with the heat. Tyres melt in those temperatures. People don’t function too well either, especially if they have to wear protective clothing.”
    “Look, Melanie, I’ve been good to you. Echelon is journalistic gold dust. Maybe you can’t use it but it’ll help you understand how things are done better than any other journalist around. Now let’s see what you can do for me. If you do a good job on this Irish thing and go easy on Iraq I’ll be happy to reciprocate when the time comes. When this war is over I’ve a nasty feeling there’s going to be a public enquiry. Find out how we got ourselves into this bloody mess.”
    “You mean you don’t know?” Melanie was agog.
    Merlyn Stanbridge ignored her.
    “When that happens I can put you on the inside track. All you have to do for now is tow the line on WMDs and secret timetables. After the war you can publish any bloody thing you like. Right now you’re in a very privileged position, here and in the States, but that won’t last forever. There’ll come a time when you’ll appreciate my help.”
    Merlyn Stanbridge paused to light another cigarette.
    “By the way, are you still in touch with Alex Bowman? He seems to have disappeared.”
    “You know about me and Bowman?” Melanie blushed.
    Merlyn Stanbridge laughed.
    “My dear, I am the head of MI6. Matter of fact I’d like to meet him. What happened to Bowman was outrageous. I might be able to help bring him back into the fold. Not officially of course, but people as talented as Bowman shouldn’t be