Keys to the Kingdom by Derek Fee

Author:Derek Fee
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-05-12T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

London

There was a spring in Worley’s step as he approached the offices of MI6. His cold had almost cleared and he was beginning to feel more or less human again. He hadn’t seen an apparition in more than two days. His mind felt as clear as a bell and he was confident that he could run a half marathon with ease. The river Thames rolled along beside him as he walked, reminding him of the continuum of life. He had been preparing to return to Riyadh when he had received Burfield’s urgent call for a meeting. The call had both surprised and bothered him. There had been something in Burfield’s voice that had been new. Some of it was undoubtedly due to strain but there was something else behind that strange new tone.

‘Mr Worley, Sir,’ Burfield’s secretary said into the handset when Worley entered the outer office. She replaced the phone on its cradle and turned to face him. ‘You can go right in.’

‘Arthur,’ Burfield opened the door and stood aside to allow Worley to enter. ‘Sorry to force a change of plan on you but I really thought we should meet before you left. Save Her Majesty’s Treasury all that money we spend on coded cables and the like.’ He smiled thinly and looked at Worley. The tan had re-appeared on his handsome face and he looked the very picture of health. ‘Managed to kick that cold of yours I see.’ Maybe there is life in the old dog yet, he thought. He knew in his heart of hearts that he should get Arthur out of Riyadh at this very minute. They needed somebody who was not just one hundred percent fit but a thousand percent fit. But there was nobody in the Service had anything like Arthur’s local knowledge or his contacts. It was one hell of a dilemma. He would have no qualms having a fit Arthur Worley on station but the man before him was, in his doctor’s opinion, far from a fit man.

‘Thank God for the good old British weather, it will cure you or kill you.’ Worley went immediately to the chair in front of Burfield’s desk. He watched his friend and colleague as he sat heavily in his seat. It wasn’t only Burfield’s voice that was on the blink. His normally ruddy complexion was ashen and the skin seemed to hang loosely on his face. There was a sheen of sweat on his pallid skin. He was a perfect example of why one should not become a senior civil servant.

‘You’ve heard the news about the Junior Oil Minister?’ Burfield asked.

‘Yes,’ Worley answered. ‘He was a decent sort. Harvard MBA and all that. Any idea who’s behind it?’ He had a fairly good idea himself who was behind it.

‘So far nothing. The Embassy hasn’t a clue. Pity you’re not there.’

‘So why are you holding me up,’ Worley said pleasantly as he sat down. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if I was on station?’

Burfield opened the file in front of him.

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