Traitor by Duncan Falconer Read Free Book Online Page A

since they found the recorder without the memory card. I don’t know if that makes it easier to go back in again or not.’
    ‘I’m not doing that.’
    ‘I think that’s the point. They won’t ask again.’
    Stratton felt psychologically wounded. He would have liked them to ask him to go back in again, which would have proved their confidence in him. He would have refused happily.
    ‘There’s something else that’s going to piss you off, I’m afraid. You’re to spend a day at MI16.’
    Stratton eyed him, his look asking the obvious question.
    ‘Let’s call it a bit of cross-training.’
    ‘They’re teaching me or I’m teaching them?’
    ‘They’re going to talk to you about the kit.’
    ‘They’re training me?’
    ‘It’s politics.’
    ‘It’s an admission of guilt.’
    ‘It’s a compromise.’
    ‘How’s that?’
    ‘Perhaps you’re going to help start up their operations side.’
    ‘That’s another joke, right?’
    ‘It was when I said it. Now I’m not sure if it is.’
    Stratton shook his head, displeased with the whole subject.
    ‘We can’t halt progress. Spend a day or two up there. Charm them. Don’t let them wind you up. And don’t fill any of ’em in.’
    Stratton had a sudden thought. ‘Tell me something. Be honest. Do people think I’m losing my touch?’
    Mike averted his eyes, as if Stratton had hit on something.
    Stratton read it like a poster on the wall. ‘Is that what you think?’
    ‘No. But I do wonder if you might be getting complacent. It’s not so much that you’ve lost your edge as that the edge has lost you.’
    Stratton could not deny that Mike might have a point. It would explain his feelings of late. It wasn’t boredom, as he sometimes thought. But whatever it was, complacency could well be a symptom.
    Mike leaned forward and softened his voice to hammer the point home. ‘You’ve done more of these kinds of ops than anyone. You’ve flown too close to the sun too many times, my friend. Maybe it’s time to be honest with yourself. I’ll believe you if you tell me you’re fine. But just take a while to think about it. You know better than anyone. Compare yourself, your enthusiasm now, with your glory days. And don’t let laid-back and blasé become confused with experienced. We both know the difference.’
    Stratton considered this. He didn’t believe he was so far gone as to risk screwing up an operation. But his cynicism had increased over the years. And this wasn’t the first time accusations like these had been levelled at him. Either way he couldn’t bully his way out of it. If people thought he was losing it they had to change their own minds. He would not be able to do it for them. Even Mike obviously had his doubts, and he knew Stratton better than most. Stratton reckoned he had two choices. He could throw his teddies out of his pram and get all upset about it or he could toe the line. Perhaps he needed a new perspective on things. He didn’t think that visiting those twats in Sixteen would help any.Yet something positive could come out of it. He might even be able to prove the recorder was faulty and not him. And London might look favourably on him for going up there. Better than moping around in Poole.
    ‘When do you want me to go?’ Stratton asked.
    Mike wondered if it was an admission of some kind or if Stratton was just playing the game. ‘You plugged in that crockpot of yours?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Mike smiled. ‘Take a few days off, then. How’s the shoulder?’
    ‘Fine.’
    ‘Go for a long run . . . a couple of long runs. I’ll tell ’em you’ll be up there first thing Monday morning.’
    Stratton got to his feet and went to the door.
    ‘Everyone has dips and bumps, Stratton. Don’t take it so hard.’
    ‘This isn’t a rugby club, Mike.’ He opened the door and walked out.
    Mike had to ask himself whether he would give Stratton a call if a special landed on his desk tomorrow morning. For the first time he wondered if he