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Authors: Brian Freemantle

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The coverage was padded out by archival material—as well as an official ambassadorial photograph—of Irvine's father's Middle East debacle. Irvine was described as NSA's leading code-cracker, who'd worked on the Stuxnet sabotage of Iran's nuclear-development project before devising the entrapment operation of Ismail al Aswamy, whose importance equaled that of Osama bin Laden. Intelligence analysts judged the death of Aswamy, the mastermind of the failed attacks on the Washington Monument, Rome's Colosseum, and a British nuclear installation, as a major Al Qaeda setback. A further and equally devastating defeat for the jihadists was the degree of co-operation and information from thirty of the fifty-eight mini-drone operators in exchange for shares in the multi-million-dollar bounty, coupled with witness protection.

Sally was not identified by name and was referred to only as the English intelligence agent who had been seconded to the American operation after foiling the British nuclear attack. The details of the attacks on Creech and Waddington were limited to their being incendiary assaults—with no reference to mini-helicopters—that had successfully been repelled. Al Aswamy's death had occurred in a separate attack on another, unnamed military installation.

‘Where—how the fuck—did they get this!' exploded Irvine. ‘It's … I … Oh, fuck…!'

‘There were leaks at Creech, of course,' said Graham. ‘I authorized a media release limited to what you see there, and which is all that's running on the wires. I obviously didn't mention you by name; I didn't mention anyone by name. Or say anything about Stuxnet. Or your father.'

But the story would open the way for the biopic, thought Sally. She said, ‘Nearly all of it was put together in advance, ready for a hook to hang it on. It's got Fred Bowyer's fingerprints all over it.'

‘I neutered him,' insisted Graham.

‘Not sufficiently,' accused Sally.

‘I'll find the source,' promised Graham. ‘Whoever it is, I'll find the son of a bitch and hang him by the balls with piano wire.'

‘I lived once through what happened to my father,' said Irvine. ‘I guess I can live through the repetition.'

Was there an element of satisfaction, son restoring the family name? wondered Sally. The outrage had been short-lived.

‘Your father isn't the point, why I hauled you two out of bed,' said Graham. ‘GCHQ intercepted some chatter. The ayatollahs are issuing a fatwa.'

Irvine sniggered an uncertain laugh. ‘You can't be serious!'

‘NSA wants you in a protection programme. So do I.' Graham looked at Sally. ‘You're going out of Andrews in two hours on a military flight, courtesy of the CIA. Until then you're staying here. We're returning your rental car, picking up all your stuff and bringing it here; you can change your shirt.' He went back to Irvine. ‘Your guys will have cleared out all the technical stuff from Owen Place by now; your personal things are being brought here, too.'

‘I don't want to go into a protection programme!' protested Irvine. ‘Fatwas only apply to Muslims. It's sharia law, doesn't apply to me. Who's going to get to me inside Fort Meade, for Christ's sake!'

‘You work at Fort Meade, you don't live there, and even if you did, you still wouldn't be safe,' insisted Graham.

‘Killing you would re-establish the jihad,' said Sally quietly. ‘And to the jihadist it wouldn't matter whether you're a Muslim or not. That's what they do, manipulate the Koran.'

‘No!'
yelled Irvine.

‘It's not a choice,' insisted Graham. ‘We're keeping you alive.'

*   *   *

Sally changed her shirt when her luggage arrived. Irvine stayed as he was. They stacked everything in his soon-to-be-abandoned office to make enough room in hers for them to wait for their transport to arrive.

‘It's not going to be permanent,' said Irvine. ‘Could be over in just a few months.'

‘Sure.'

‘We could keep in touch: there'll be channels.'

‘You know we can't, Jack.'

‘When it's all over, I mean.'

‘It hasn't begun yet.'

‘If it hadn't happened, this threat, would you—?'

‘I don't want you to finish that question,' stopped Sally.

‘It was hypothetical.'

‘That's how it stays, hypothetical.'

‘I want to tell you—'

‘I don't want you to finish that either.'

‘I don't believe I have to.'

Two escorts arrived at the door to take her down with her luggage, waiting outside after they collected it. Sally said, ‘None of the usual good-byes fit, do they?'

‘No, I don't suppose they do.'

‘Just good-bye then.'

‘Yes, just good-bye.'

They remained looking at each other for several moments, not touching. Abruptly Sally turned away towards the waiting escorts. She said, ‘Let's go.'

Conrad Graham was waiting in the expansive Langley entrance hall. Two unmarked 4x4s were drawn up directly outside, and several more plainclothes escorts waited around them.

Graham said, ‘Another ending might have been better.' He hadn't bothered with peppermint candy.

Sally shrugged. ‘You're probably right.'

‘You really did do a hell of a job.'

‘I need a favour,' ignored Sally.

‘You got it.'

‘Let me know who leaked to
The Washington Post
.'

‘Like I said, you got it.'

Sally didn't think he would, but there was always the outside chance.

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I am grateful to Simon Taplin and Jeff Kightly for technical guidance in the writing of this book. Any errors result from my misunderstanding of that guidance.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BRIAN FREEMANTLE
is the author of more than thirty books, which have sold more than ten million copies worldwide. He has been foreign editor and chief foreign correspondent for the (UK)
Daily Mail
and foreign correspondent for the (UK)
Daily Sketch
, among others. He lives in England. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

 

 

ALSO BY
BRIAN FREEMANTLE

Red Star Rising

Red Star Burning

Red Star Falling

Triple Cross

Kings of Many Castles

Watchmen

Dead Men Living

Bomb Grade

Charlie's Apprentice

Comrade Charlie

The Run Around

See Charlie Run

The Blind Run

Madrigal for Charlie Muffin

Charlie Muffin's Uncle Sam

The Inscrutable Charlie Muffin

Here Comes Charlie M

Charlie M

 

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CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Epigraphs

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Author's Note

About the Author

Also by Brian Freemantle

Copyright

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

 

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS
.

An imprint of St. Martin's Press.

 

THE CLOUD COLLECTOR
. Copyright © 2015 by Brian Freemantle. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

 

www.thomasdunnebooks.com

www.stmartins.com

 

Cover design by Lisa Marie Pompilio

 

Cover photographs: man walking up some steps © Stephen Mulcahey/Arcangel Images; Capitol building © Bill Dickinson/Getty Images

 

The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

 

ISBN 978- 1-250-06623-7 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-4668-7381-0 (e-book)

 

e-ISBN 9781466873810

 

Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].

 

First Edition: November 2015

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