Removing the Wool

But the discomfort was outweighed by the end result.

"Alright, dammit, she does know where he is!"

"That’s better." Berbitov growled.

Richard Hendley was a mailroom assistant in MI5. He had been offered the position after failing to get past the first stage of MI5 recruitment, and snapped it up greedily. More to the point, he had been "advised" that if he didn’t, he would have a problem even feeding himself ever again. Richard Hendley was also a Russian mole.

A mole with a sore face. He rubbed it slowly, trying his best to look angry at the towering Russian, but only managing to look even more pathetic.

"I take it you are referring to Ms McAndrew?"

"Who else would I be talking about?"

Hendley cowered as Berbitov threatened to repeat the earlier assault.

"Quit it! McAndrew received a packet from the mailbox Nojovski uses in the UK. She cancelled all appointments for the rest of that day."

"I see. So do you know what was in the package?"

Hendley smiled triumphantly. "Now that you mention it. Most of it was in Russian, but there were maps and photographs of places I recognised."

"And?" Berbitov snapped impatiently.

"And, they’re of the MI5 Data Centre in Birmingham."

"How would you recognise people from there?"

"That’s what surprised me. The photos are of people who work in the mailrooms etc in the building. I talk to them all the time when the idiots upstairs send documents to the wrong place."

Berbitov nodded slowly. "Alright, that’ll do for today." He handed Hendley a brown envelope. Hendley snatched it and opened the package.

"Hey, there’s only about half of what I’m owed here!"

Berbitov spun round and glared. "We only have your word for this information. As soon as we know it to be correct, you’ll what’s owed to you. In the meantime, I’d keep your trap shut!"

Hendley’s head dropped, and he shuffled off. Berbitov sighed, rubbed his face, and picked up his cell phone.

"Yekov."

"The English know where Rogue Spear is."

"As I suspected. Can you get there?"

"I’ll be there by mid-afternoon."

"Good. Remember, I need to know everything before you resolve the situation. There could be other variables."

"Understood."

**

Nojovski made a mental note to find a gym and start going to it. He wasn’t in his prime anymore, and moving 16 stone technicians was making him far sweatier than he was comfortable with. In fact this was the second knocked out person he’d had to drag about in the space of 10 minutes, and there was no obvious hiding place for this one. He made do by propping him up in the far corner, and covering him with the various old boxes lying around. Satisfied, Nojovski headed over to the computer terminal.

His fingers were a blur at the keyboard, remembering all the training he had been given by the KGB on computer navigation. Now the KGB was no more, and in - 2minutes 15 seconds - neither would he if he didn’t hurry up. He used the technicians pass card to quickly navigate through the initial screens, before browsing the personnel files held at this location. He scrolled to the "S" section. Bingo.

"Hello Tyler." Nojovski growled.

He pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket, on which was written key dates – Greg Harding’s shooting, the stabbing of Neil Jenson… Katie’s accident. He closed his eyes and quickly reopened them. He clicked on "Travel History" in Tyler Stewarts file. This listed all department-approved travel he had made since joining MI5. If he’d been stupid, everything he needed would be here.

Tyler had been very, very stupid. Between 3 and 5 days before each of the dates he was checking, Tyler had made trips to Kiev. And every time he returned, he took around a week off due to "exhaustion". It was all here.