Jay made his way past the Houses of Parliament and on to the river footpath leading down to Vauxhall Bridge. He decided that the walk in the fresh air and intermittent sunshine would do him good, and maybe even clear his head.
Jay overtook an old, grey-haired man dressed in rags. The rather unpleasant odour trailing behind convinced Jay to make a swift bypass. The old man pulled an overladen pram frame behind him, stacked up with flattened cardboard boxes and fully stuffed plastic carrier bags. A very worn military-issue snare drum rested below on a bed of old newspapers. The man avoided eye contact as Jay passed by. Jay decided that the man probably just wanted to be left alone. He felt sorry for him and turned to see if there was any eye contact. There wasn’t. Jay pulled a five pound note out of his wallet and let it fall to the ground as he walked on. The old man immediately picked up the money and shouted “Hey.. mister!.. You’ve dropped this!” with a thick Scottish accent. Jay stopped and let the old man come closer. The man’s yellowy-blue eyes fixed onto Jay’s as he held the note in front of him. He steadied himself as he clutched his worldly belongings with his other hand. The man’s face bore all the sadness of a forgotten life. But he retained his pride, and his humility. And even though the dishevelled grey hair, the matted beard, the dirt, the smell and the ruddy red skin all bore testament to the old man’s hard existence, Jay saw kindness in his eyes, the type of pure, selfless kindness that only a man who has nothing can give. Jay looked down at the note.
“Nope.. Not mine” Jay shook his head as he glanced back at the old man’s knowing eyes. “Moran taing.. Turas math dhut!” said the old man smiling.
Jay turned and walked on, not knowing what the man had said and only turning once to see him carefully fold the note and push it down the inside of one of his socks.
“There but for the grace of God go I” mumbled Jay to himself.
Jay remembered the phone conversation he had had with an S.I.S official the previous morning. The man had sounded more like a bank clerk than a secret service agent, but he was friendly enough. He had even asked Jay if it was ‘convenient’ for him to talk. Jay arranged to take an extended lunch break and meet up at noon, hoping that it wouldn’t drag out.
Jay studied the outside of the S.I.S building as he crossed the bridge. He had always thought of it as a strange architectural mix of old power station meets modern fortress. He was however eager to look inside. Jay could not find any obvious visitor entrances on the side of the building nor round the back. He carried on past a large gate bearing a sign reading ‘IN’ but decided that it looked too much like a delivery entrance. Jay found a yellow cabin housing a helpful security guard around the next corner. The security guard told him he had to double back and present himself at the large gate. Time was ticking away. It was already 12:03 pm when he returned to the heavily guarded gate.
Several burly police officers, all bearing automatic weapons, looked on from behind the gate as Jay very politely asked to be let in. One phone call and a body search later, Jay was standing in the atrium-like reception area of the main building. A security guard asked him to hand over his mobile phone as he clipped an identity badge on Jay’s lapel. Jay was told to stand still and await collection.
“James Jarett?” A man in his thirties approached him with hand out-reached. He wore a dark suit, white shirt and tie. His hair was slicked back using wax or maybe gel. Jay noted that he only needed a pair of sunglasses to be fit for the FBI.
“Yes.. that’s me” replied Jay
“Roger Walker..” he shook Jay’s hand firmly “..Pleased to meet you.. I’ve booked a meeting room upstairs.. This way please..”
Jay followed Roger over to three elevators grouped together in what could otherwise be mistaken for a pedestrian thoroughfare. No words were exchanged as they got in to the first available lift. Roger pressed 3. The door closed swiftly in front of them. Jay noticed there were several unmarked buttons, imagining that they were for their top secret rooms in the basement.
“So.. I suppose you are wondering what all this is about James?”
“It’s Jay.. please call me Jay.. And yes.. I am.. I am a little intrigued to put it mildly”
The doors opened directly out in to a large room with an enormous bay window overlooking the Thames. Jay guessed that they were in one of the turret-like structures he had seen from the outside. Two more dark-suited men, this time in their late forties, approached Jay and offered their hands.
“Welcome James.. Clive Davies.. head of foreign surveillance” Clive was quite short and a little bald. He reminded Jay of one of his uncles. He even sounded like him, with a deep, soft and almost singing voice “..and this is Patrick Connaught.. team-lead for CS.. sorry.. that’s Counter Strike” Clive turned to look at Roger “You’ve already met Roger.. One of our best young intelligence officers.. Please.. take a seat.. and help yourself to tea, coffee, biscuits or whatever takes your fancy” Clive pushed a fruit basket in Jay’s direction as he took his place on the other side of the table. Jay helped himself to a bottle of cold water.
“Roger.. will you do the honours please?” Clive made himself a cup of tea.
“Yes sir.. Well.. James.. erm.. sorry.. Jay.. Whatever is said here must not go outside of these doors.. ok?..” Jay nodded “..Good.. now.. we have been conducting surveillance tasks in Iran for quite some time now.. primarily to keep an eye on their nuclear activities.. specifically in relation to nuclear weapons.. We are fairly certain that they have not developed any useable nuclear weapons as yet but..” Roger stood up and picked up a remote control, switching on a projector that lit up the entire side wall “..we are equally certain that they are trying to.. even though various political agreements are supposed to be in place.. It’s really just a matter of time before they succeed”
Roger showed an aerial photograph of a rather barren coastal town “What you are seeing here is Bushehr.. a nuclear power plant currently consisting of three one gigawatt pressurized water reactors..” Roger directed a red dot from the remote control onto the picture “..here.. here and.. here..” Jay turned his chair round ninety degrees to face the wall “..Our intelligence tells us that the Russians have provided the know-how and manpower to build the plant.. They have also provided the nuclear fuel necessary to run the plant along with heavy water processing equipment and key operations personnel..” Roger changed to the next slide “..Now.. to the heart of the matter!.. We believe that Bushehr has the capability of reprocessing spent fuel and making it into low grade plutonium.. This could theoretically be used to build nuclear weapons..” A new picture showing men in white suits flashed on to the wall “..They produce a couple of hundred kilos of plutonium every year.. To put this in perspective.. you only need about five kilograms of pure plutonium to make a nuclear bomb.. The existence of separation equipment has been confirmed by our mole.. Patrick?” Roger handed the remote to Patrick. Patrick moved closer to the wall.
“Thank you Roger.. Yes.. as Roger says.. the Iranians have the potential to build a bomb.. so we obviously have to do something about that.. and very quickly indeed.. Which is where you come in James..” Jay pulled his head back and scrunched his eyes in a questioning way “..you see.. everything is controlled electronically by central servers and it is these servers we need to.. um.. ‘modify’ if you are with me?..” Jay nodded back “..Now the thing is.. our man in Iran cannot risk doing anything himself for fear of repercussions to him and his family.. On top of that we need to do things very ‘hush hush’.. otherwise it could turn into a real hornets nest if the Russians and the Chinese start suspecting our involvement.. so..” Patrick turned to face Jay, holding the remote in both hands “..we need someone ‘unknown’ to help us”
“By ‘unknown’ I presume you mean me?” asked Jay.
“Exactly!.. No wonder you got a first class honours degree Jay!” replied Clive trying to hide his sarcasm ”Yes.. you see Jay.. we are like one big almost happy family.. where everyone knows what everyone else is up to.. and not least.. who each othe
r’s operatives are” Clive smiled across the table at Jay.
Jay gave no reaction and showed little facial expression. His thoughts were preoccupied with taking in the facts “But what exactly is it you want me to do?.. Hack in to their network.. use the Stuxnet?..” Jay looked back at Patrick as he spoke.
“Ahh.. Stuxnet.. no.. that is dead and buried..” replied Patrick “..But we do need you to access their network.. but we can’t do anything from here without it being traced.. so we need a physical presence on the ground”
“So you want me to train someone to do that?” asked Jay optimistically.
“No.. “ Clive stood up “..we need you to go there”
“Seriously?..” Jay looked at the men, one by one, only to be met by confirming nods of their heads “..In Iran?!.. Isn’t it bloody dangerous?” Jay moved his focus back to Patrick “..What exactly are you expecting me to do?”
“Well James.. it does sound a little dangerous.. I’ll grant you that.. but you’ve got to remember that we are experts in this sort of thing.. We just need you on site for a matter of hours whilst you open a ‘back door’ into their network”
“Does this ‘back door’ exist.. has it been made?”
“Yes.. everything is ready to go.. We just need to give you some training first”
“And what exactly does that consist of?”
“Well.. you’ll need to know how to install the program.. and there are other.. more practical issues we need to contend with. You’ll have to start growing a beard.. and use a sunbed for example.. and then you’ll”
“We need to know if you are willing to help us Jay?” interjected Clive. There was a long pause whilst Jay thought things through.
“I don’t really have a choice by the sound of things..” Jay looked at Clive “.. And I need to know the practicalities.. But I suppose if it will only take a matter of hours.. then..”
“..Then James?” asked Clive hopefully.
“Then.. why not?” replied Jay, not really knowing what he was getting himself into.
“Glad to have you on board James!..” Clive walked around the table towards Jay, closely followed by Roger “..I’ll let Patrick fill you in on the practicalities and I’ll inform the police of our agreement.. so you shouldn’t be bothered by them again..” Clive offered Jay his hand “..Goodbye James..” Clive’s left hand clutched Jay’s shoulder “..and well done!”
Jay noticed a badge in Clive’s buttonhole bearing a sword and a serpent. Patrick switched off the projector typed on his laptop as the other two left using the elevator.
“So.. what now Patrick?”
“Just give me a second James.. I just need to call up our booking application”
“Ok.. But please call me Jay”
“Ok.. Jay.. Ah.. here it is!.. I can see we have an instructor available on Thursdays.. I’ll book him for the next ten weeks.. by which time we should be ready to deploy you”
“Err.. what?..” asked Jay somewhat confused.
“Sorry.. We need to team you up with an instructor.. He’s going to teach you about local customs, the terrain, self-defence.. you know.. the usual tips and tricks..”
“Ok.. What time on Thursdays?”
“6pm to 9pm.. starting this week.. You will need to tell anyone who asks you that you have enrolled in a Tae Kwon Do class...ok?”
“Yes.. I’ll apparently have to”
“How much Arabic can you manage Jay?.. I noticed your girlfriend comes from the area..”
“Bloody hell!.. Is nothing secret with you lot?”
“Nope.. “ Patrick winked at Jay “..that’s why we are called the Secret Service”
“None.. I don’t know any Arabic.. well.. apart from ‘baksheesh’ that is.. I remember all the beggars going round saying that in Cairo”
“Splendid!.. So you’ve been to Egypt?”
Jay nodded.
“ ..Good.. good..” Patrick continued typing on his laptop without looking up “..Look Jay.. you’ll need to tell your nearest and dearest that you have to go on an extended business trip from the tenth to the thirteenth of May.. ok?”
“Is that when all this is going to happen?..”
“Exactly” replied Petrick.
“But I thought you said it was only going to take a few hours?”
“It will.. don’t worry.. We just need to get you there.. get you in and get you out safely.. And then we need to do a little debriefing afterwards”
Jay looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 12:50.
“Right.. err.. Patrick?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we nearly done here?.. I’ve got to get back to work”
“Yes.. yes.. of course.. Here’s your login stuff..” Patrick handed Jay a piece of paper with a handwritten Internet address, username and password written on it “..you’ll need that to communicate with anyone from S.I.S.. Please use the Internet address via an IP spoofer and destroy the username and password once you have memorized them”
“Ok”
“You can pick up the rest of the practical info on the site including where to go on Thursday.. ok?”
“Fine..” Jay folded the piece of paper carefully and put it deep inside his trouser pocket “..Is that it then?”
“For the time being.. yes..” Patrick walked up to Jay, holding out his hand “..We appreciate your help Jay.. really” Patrick’s voice sounded sincere and his handshake was firm “Come on.. I’ll show you out”
Patrick and Jay took the lift down to the ground floor where Jay handed in his identity badge, swapping it for his mobile telephone. They exchanged brief handshakes before Jay made a dash for Vauxhall tube station and headed back to work.