He’d been lucky enough to figure out she’d left the country on the morning of the bombing. But he didn’t even know where to start searching for her current location.
Needing to clear his mind, he tried focusing on the work he’d been doing prior to Bronsky’s call—reviewing transcripts of a phone conversation between diplomats from two nations on the U.K. watch list.
Analyzing nuances and looking for subtext that revealed what the discussion was really about was the kind of work he loved.
But try as he might, the words swirled on the page and made no sense at all.
He was about to get up to fetch a cup of tea when his boss opened his door.
“Sorry to disturb you, Gordon,” David Wills said. “But do you have a moment?”
“Well, I’m kind of in the middle of—”
Wills smiled. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait. This shouldn’t take long.”
“If you insist.”
“Thank you.”
As was procedure, Pryce closed the file and signed off his computer before rising and following his boss down the hall.
Instead of going to Wills’s office, Wills led him to the elevators and pressed theDownbutton.
Pryce’s brow furrowed. “What’s this about?”
“Not here,” Wills whispered.
This was a reasonable reply, given the nature of the secrets they dealt with, but it didn’t ease Pryce’s confusion.
The elevator arrived, and they stepped in. Wills pushed the button markedB3.
Pryce had only been down to that level once in all his years at MI6, and that was when his first boss had been giving him a tour of the facility when he’d been hired. One half of the floor was split between weapons storage and an indoor firing range. The other half contained several “dead” rooms—rooms that were built to be as impervious to surveillance as they could be.
It was one of these to which Pryce was led.
When they stepped inside, Pryce nearly tripped over his own feet. On the other side of the rectangular table in the middle of the room sat James Hall, the acting chief of MI6. Pryce had never said more than hello to the man in all his years on the job.
Hall smiled and stood. “Mr. Pryce, thank you for coming.” He motioned to the single chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”
A chill ran down Pryce’s back as he did as the acting chief instructed.
“Thank you, Mr. Wills,” Hall said. “I think that will be all for now.”
Wills shut the door on his way out, leaving Pryce and Hall alone.
“So, Gordon.” Hall paused. “I can call you Gordon, can’t I?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Ah, good. Now, Gordon, I’m hoping you can help me with something.”
“Happy to do whatever you need, sir.”
“Excellent. Exactly the response I would expect.” The acting chief leaned forward conspiratorially. “It seems we have a mole.”
Pryce tried to keep the panic off his face. “Mole, sir?”
“Someone’s leaking information to persons unfriendly to us.”
