A Foreign Country

Текст добавлен: 9 октября 2016, 18:52

Текст книги "A Foreign Country"

Автор книги: Charles Cumming

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Beaune, Three Weeks Later

They waited on a bench in the centre of the square, a woman of fifty-three wearing a pretty skirt and a cream blouse, a man of forty-three in a linen suit that had seen better days, and a young French I.T. consultant wearing jeans and smoking a cigarette. He might have been their nephew, their son.

‘He’ll be here in a minute,’ Amelia said.

It was a Saturday morning, just before eleven o’clock, young children playing in a small park at the centre of the square under the dutiful, exhausted stares of fathers who had promised their wives and girlfriends a few hours’ respite from childcare. One of the children, a girl of about three or four, had a miniature pushchair in which she had placed a naked doll. She rattled it forward and back on the narrow path in front of the bench, falling once but immediately rising to her feet without fuss or tears, and without noticing that François had stood up from his seat to try to help her.

‘Brave girl,’ he said in French, sitting back down, but she did not appear to hear him.

Clockwise cars were circling the park, waiters at a brasserie on the far side of the square ferrying Perriers and cafés au lait to customers basking in the late summer sun. Kell turned and looked down Rue Carnot, glancing at his watch.

‘In a minute,’ Amelia replied and placed a hand on her son’s knee.

Kell watched them, still not tired of their delight in one another’s company, and reflected on how skilfully Amelia had played her hand. Jimmy Marquand promoted and sent to Washington, with school fees paid, salary boosted, and a five-bedroom Georgetown mansion to help convince him that SIS really had been left in good hands, despite one or two misgivings he might have had about a woman running the Service. Simon Haynes too busy thanking the Prime Minister for his knighthood to wonder how long Amelia had been keeping her illegitimate son a secret. And George Truscott eased offshore to the top SIS job in Germany before he could start asking any awkward questions about the sudden appearance in London of Monsieur François Malot.

At Amelia’s instigation, Kell, Elsa and Drummond had spent two weeks looking into the possibility of a connection between Truscott and the elements in the DGSE who had carried out Malot’s abduction, but they had found nothing, not even evidence that Truscott had known about DENEUVE. On the other hand, their investigation suggested that Kell had been correct in his assumption that the operation was linked to waning French influence in North Africa. Elsa had obtained copies of two cables, originating in Paris, which confirmed that senior figures in the DGSE had been ‘extremely concerned’ about Amelia’s appointment as ‘C’. Their misgivings proved well founded: within days of taking over from Haynes, Amelia had shut down nineteen separate operations in the Caucasus and Eastern Europe and re-directed more than forty officers to burgeoning SIS Stations in Tripoli, Cairo, Tunis and Algiers. As Head of Station in Turkey, Paul Wallinger was given carte blanche to amplify SIS influence from Istanbul to Tehran, from Ankara to Jordan. In London, other Levene allies, on both sides of the river, were instructed to sell this regional re-shuffle to a Downing Street already keen to reap the economic and security benefits of the post-Arab Spring era. By the time elections were being called in Egypt, the French government was reported to be ‘paranoid’ about aggressive SIS recruitment of sources within the Muslim Brotherhood and ‘gravely concerned’ about Libyan oil resources slipping beyond the control of Total S.A.

Paris itself had also embarked on a shame-faced internal investigation into the behaviour of Luc Javeau, details of which were leaked to Vauxhall Cross by Amelia’s source in the DCRI. It was confirmed that Javeau had indeed been the officer tasked with cleaning up the mess left by DENEUVE’s treachery. The scandal had stalled his career, a setback he blamed squarely on Levene and which his superiors were only too happy to avenge by waving through Javeau’s plans for the Malot operation. In the aftermath of François’ release, more formal channels saw the DGSE distancing itself from the ‘unpredictable rogue elements’ that had threatened to break the ‘formidable and lasting intelligence relationship between our two countries’. Amelia’s opposite number in Paris also stressed the importance of keeping what had happened in Salles-sur-l’Hers a secret, both to protect Mrs Levene’s privacy but also ‘to avoid any complications with our respective governments’. It was taken for granted that Paris was outraged by the assassination of serving DGSE personnel on French soil by an unaccountable unit of British ex-Special Forces.

Information on Valerie de Serres was harder to come by, but it was demonstrated that she was a former GIPN officer, born in Montreal, who had met Luc while their respective agencies had been working on a joint counter-terrorism oper-ation. Amelia characterized her baleful influence over Luc as ‘Lady Macbeth stuff’, and it was generally accepted that Valerie had managed to convince Javeau to quit the DGSE and to ransom François for private gain.

As for Kell himself, his forty-third birthday brought no great change in his circumstances. With the Yassin trial scheduled for the new year, Amelia had made it clear that she could not be seen to bring him back into the Service without the good name of ‘Witness X’ being cleared in court and the incident wiped from Kell’s record. There had been no word from Claire since her return from California, so he continued to rent his bachelor bedsit in Kensal Rise, eating take-aways and watching old black-and-white movies on TCM. Amelia had arranged for Kell’s salary and pension to be reinstated, yet her gratitude towards him for facilitating the release of her son had not been as fulsome as perhaps Kell had anticipated. He felt like a man who had spent a fortune on a present for a close friend, only to see them tuck it away, unopened, in a cupboard, embarrassed by such an act of generosity. In this atmosphere, Kell occasionally began to resent the risks he had taken on Amelia’s behalf, the secrets he had consented to keep, but his affection and respect for her was such that he was prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt. Amelia’s behaviour was bound to have been affected by what had happened in France, as well as by the demands – and status – of her new position as Chief. In time, he told himself, she would bring him back into the fold and give him the pick of any overseas job that caught his eye. Kell looked forward to that day, not least because it might offer him some respite from London and from the collapse of his marriage to Claire.

It was Kell who saw the old man first, shuffling along the road in a grey flannel suit. He knew his face because he had watched him, from this same spot, three days earlier.

‘Here he comes,’ he whispered.

François leapt up from the bench but Amelia remained seated, as though Kell and François were acolytes, her guardian angels. She heard François say: ‘Where?’ and looked up to see him squinting in the direction in which Kell was facing.

‘He’s coming across the street,’ Kell replied quietly. ‘The man with white hair in the grey suit. Do you see him?’

‘I see him.’ François stepped away from them, as if to give himself more time to take in what he was witnessing. Only now did Amelia turn. Kell would later tell himself that he had heard her gasp, but it may simply have been a trick of his imagination.

Jean-Marc Daumal seemed instantly to sense the presence of Amelia Weldon and stopped at the edge of the square, as though tapped on the shoulder by a ghost. He looked directly at the three figures on the bench but appeared to be having difficulty bringing them into focus. He took two paces forward. Kell and François remained where they were, but Amelia moved towards him.

His head began to shake as he saw her, everything that he had recalled of her beauty still present in her face. Soon he was only metres away from the bench.

‘Amelia?’

‘C’est moi, Jean-Marc.’ They came together and kissed one another lightly on both cheeks.

‘What are you doing here?’

He looked beyond her and scanned Kell’s face, perhaps assuming that he was the man who had finally won Amelia’s heart. Then he looked to Kell’s left, at the young man, and frowned, gazing at him as though trying to remember if they had met before.

‘I knew you would be here,’ Amelia told him, resting her hand on Daumal’s wrist. She was shocked by how much he had changed, and yet the years had not extinguished all of her love for him. A person is lucky to know even one person in their life who understands and cares for them so completely. ‘You look well,’ she said.

Amelia caught Kell’s eye in a moment of deep affection for him, a sudden reward for all that he had done for her. Then she turned so that she was facing her son.

‘Jean-Marc, there is somebody I would like you to meet.’

The Background to

A Foreign Country

In July 2001, Binyam Mohamed, a 23-year-old Ethiopian national who had been living in the UK for seven years while awaiting political asylum, traveled to Afghanistan from his home in west London. The reason for his journey is still disputed. Mohamed insists that he went to Afghanistan to experience Muslim culture at first-hand and to conquer an addiction to heroin. The American government argues that he received paramilitary instruction at al Farouq, an al-Qaeda training camp near Kandahar.

By April 2002, several months after the attacks of September 11^th, Binyam Mohamed had made his way to Pakistan. When he attempted to leave the country on a false passport (his own Ethiopian passport had been stolen and he was using a document belonging to a friend), he was arrested by immigration authorities in Karachi and imprisoned. This is where his nightmare began. Over the course of the next several years he was rendered to CIA ‘black’ prisons in Afghanistan and Morocco, subjected to brutal torture, and sent to Guantanamo in 2005. Binyam Mohamed was charged with collaborating in an al-Qaeda plot to detonate a ‘dirty bomb’ in the United States (a plot that later turned out to be non-existent) and was finally released from custody in 2009. Thanks to the efforts of his lawyer, Clive Stafford-Smith at Reprieve, Mohamed was eventually cleared of all charges. He returned to the UK and was given an undisclosed compensation settlement by the British government, thought to be in the region of £800,000.

Mohamed’s grim story is of specific interest to me because of the role played by Britain’s intelligence services in the early stages of his capture. Almost as soon as he was arrested, Mohamed was interviewed by an MI5 officer, now known by the codename ‘Witness B’. Witness B is alleged to have provided American officials with questions that were used during Mohamed’s subsequent torture. MI5 was to find itself at the centre of a legal action in which one of its officers stood accused of colluding in the torture of an innocent man.

The central character in A Foreign Country, Thomas Kell, is an MI6 officer who has been kicked out of the Service for his part in the ‘aggressive interrogation’ of a British national named Yassin Gharani. Unlike Mohamed, Gharani is a fully-fledged ‘jihadi tourist’ who has been picked up in Kabul by the Americans in the wake of 9/11. Kell is present at a joint CIA/MI6 interrogation of Gharani, and is aware that his rendition and ill-treatment are imminent. Kell advises Gharani to come clean and to co-operate with MI6 and the British government. ‘If he decided to keep quiet and keep playing the innocent, then I couldn’t be responsible for what the Americans would do with him. We felt that Yassin knew things that would be useful to us and we ran out of patience with him when he wouldn’t talk.’

Kell reveals that his American colleagues eventually became ‘aggressive’. But he makes it clear that there was no breach of protocol on the British side: ‘Did I physically touch him? No. Did I push him around? No, absolutely not. Did I threaten to get to his family in Leeds? At no point.’

This moral dilemma is at the heart of the book. How should British intelligence officers behave when they find themselves in a room with allies and colleagues from a liaison service who may have different methods and different ideas about how best to extract information from a suspect? More to the point, could Witness B, or the fictional Thomas Kell, have behaved any differently, given the circumstances in which they found themselves? From the book:

‘The problem is the relationship with the Americans, the problem is the press and the problem is the law. Somewhere between those three points you have spies trying to do their job with one hand tied behind their backs.’

It’s clear to Kell that the media in London took the line that Yassin was a British national, innocent until proven guilty, who was tortured by Bush and Cheney. ‘They charged that MI6 turned a blind eye to what went on.’ And Kell certainly acknowledges his own failings with regard to the Gharani interrogation and its aftermath.

‘He remembered the stink and the sweat of the room, the wretchedness of Yassin’s face, his own lust for information and his contempt for everything that Yassin stood for. Kell’s zeal had obscured even the slight possibility that the young man in front of him, starved of sleep and care, was anything other than a brainwashed jihadi… As far as I was concerned, here was a young British man whose sole purpose in life was to murder innocent civilians… I thought he was a coward and a fool, and the truth is I was glad to see him in custody. That was my sin. I forgot to care for a man who wanted to destroy everything that it was my job to protect.’

Kell’s sins, such as they are, far exceed those of Witness B, or indeed of any other British intelligence officer accused of aiding and abetting torture. This is Binyan Mohamed’s account of his meeting with a British intelligence officer, shortly after his arrest. It is taken from Stafford-Smith’s book, Bad Men:

‘The British talked to me in Pakistan. They said they were from MI6 and one called himself “John”… [They] had checked out my story and said they knew I was a nobody. But they gave me a cup of tea with a lot of sugar in it. I initially only took one [sugar]. “No, you need a lot more. Where you’re going, you need a lot of sugar.”’

Now how does that sound to you? Sinister? Or a concerned individual trying to do his best for a man – it’s worth remembering that Binyam Mohamed was not a British citizen – whose fate had already been decided in Washington. And yet the glee with which certain media outlets in the UK greeted the news that British spies had allegedly colluded in torture left a very strange taste in my mouth. It was as though we wanted to believe that our spooks were venal and corrupt, that we wanted to see men and women who were doing an almost impossibly difficult job in vastly complicated political and moral circumstances, as heartless and depraved. And why? To find a scapegoat for our own guilt? Or to reassure ourselves of our own unimpeachable moral conduct?

This is a story that isn’t going to go away. The former MI6 officer Sir Mark Allen faces prosecution for his role in a joint 2002 MI6 operation with Gaddafi's intelligence chief, Moussa Koussa, which brought the Libyan exiles Abdul Hakim Belhaj and Sami al-Saadi, to Tripoli, where they were brutally treated by the Gadaffi regime. At the time, MI6 had succeeded in stripping Libya of its WMD, one of the great intelligence coups of the past 20 years, and regarded Belhaj and al-Saadi as terrorist threats to the West. But that no longer matters. Allen got himself on the wrong side of history and now faces judgment in the skewed court of liberal public opinion.

There is a larger point to make about all this. The constant stream of court cases raining down on MI5 and MI6 is making the job of spying infinitely more difficult. That is not to say that our spooks should not be governed by strict protocols and abide by the letter of the law. But they should also be free to do their jobs without the threat of litigation and journalistic bias freezing up the system. Intelligence officers, on both sides of the Atlantic, now have to think twice before questioning suspects on foreign soil, because of the threat of legal blowback. As The Economist pointed out in an article on the subject: ‘Western spies inevitably have to work with the secret police of Pakistan, Egypt and others who often abuse prisoners, but also have more access to jihadists than the West ever could… For the West to refuse to deal with such countries would be as wrong as for it to put its agents in rooms where electrodes touch flesh.’

Thomas Kell wouldn’t argue with that.

Acknowledgements

My thanks to: Julia Wisdom, Anne O’Brien, Emad Akhtar, Oliver Malcolm, Lucy Upton, Roger Cazalet, Kate Elton, Elinor Fewster, Hannah Gamon, Tanya Brennand-Roper, Jot Davies, Kate Stephenson, and all the team at HarperCollins in London. To Will Francis, Rebecca Folland, Claire Paterson, Tim Glister, Kirsty Gordon and Jessie Botterill at Janklow and Nesbit UK and to Luke Janklow, Claire Dippel and Stefanie Lieberman in New York. To Keith Kahla, Hannah Braaten, Dori Weintraub, Matthew Baldacci, Sally Richardson and everybody at St Martin’s Press. To Jon, Jeremy, Caz, Kerin and Alanna at The Week – thank you for the office. To Marwa Che Hata, Theo Tait and Noomane Fehri for Tunisian expertise. To Liss, Stanley and Iris, Sarah Brown, Ian Cumming, Tony Omosun, William Fiennes, Jeremy Duns, Joe Finder, Natalie Cohen, Caroline Pilkington, Siobhan Loughran-Mareuse, Mark Pilkington, Christopher and Arabella Elwes, Jeff Abbott, Bard Wilkinson and the eagle-eyed Sarah Gabriel (www.sarahgabriel.eu).

About the Author

Charles Cumming has been described as ‘the man who most successfully gets under the skin of Britain’s intelligence agencies’ (The Times). In the summer of 1995, he was approached for recruitment by the Secret Intelligence Service (MI6). A year later he moved to Montreal where he began working on a novel based on his experiences with MI6. A Spy By Nature was published in the UK in 2001.

He was born in Scotland in 1971. He graduated from the University of Edinburgh in 1994 with First Class Honours in English Literature. A Foreign Country is his sixth novel.

www.charlescumming.co.uk

By the same author

A Spy By Nature

The Hidden Man

The Spanish Game

Typhoon

The Trinity Six

Published by Harper

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First Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2012

Charles Cumming asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

Published in Great Britain by Faber and Faber 2001

Reproduced by permission of Faber and Faber

Hamilton reproduced by permission of Penguin Books Ltd

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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