Sean Dillon 3-Book Collection 1 by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins [Jack Higgins]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

9

It was nine o’clock the following morning when Ferguson arrived at Downing Street. He had to wait for only five minutes before an aide took him upstairs and showed him into the study where the Prime Minister was seated at his desk, signing one document after another.

He looked up. ‘Ah, there you are, Brigadier.’

‘You asked to see me, Prime Minister.’

‘Yes, I’ve had the Deputy Director of the Security Services and Sir Francis on my back about this Virgin Islands affair. Is it true what they tell me, that you’ve taken on this man Dillon to handle things?’

‘Yes,’ Ferguson said calmly.

‘A man with his record? Can you tell me why?’

‘Because he’s right for the job, sir. Believe me, I find nothing admirable in Dillon’s past. His work some years ago for the IRA is known to us although nothing has ever been proven against him. The same applies to his activities on the international scene. He’s a gun for hire, Prime Minister. Even the Israelis have used him when it suited them.’

‘I can’t say I like it. I think Carter has a point of view.’

‘I can pull him out if that is what you wish.’

‘But you’d rather not?’

‘I think he’s the man for this particular job. To be frank, it’s a dirty one and it has already become apparent since we last spoke that there are people he will have to deal with who play very dirty indeed.’

‘I see.’ The Prime Minister sighed. ‘Very well, Brigadier, I leave it to your own good judgement, but do try and make your peace with Carter.’

‘I will, Prime Minister,’ Ferguson said and withdrew.

Jack Lane was waiting in the Daimler. As it drove away he said, ‘And what was that all about?’

Ferguson told him. ‘He’s got a point, of course.’

‘You know how I feel, sir, I was always against it. I wouldn’t trust Dillon an inch.’

‘Interesting thing about Dillon,’ Ferguson said. ‘One of the things he’s always been known for is a kind of twisted sense of honour. If he gives his word he sticks to it and expects others to do the same.’

‘I find that hard to believe, sir.’

‘Yes, I suppose most people would.’

Ferguson picked up the car phone and rang through to Simon Carter’s office. He wasn’t there, he was meeting with Pamer at the House of Commons.

‘Get a message through to him now,’ Ferguson told Carter’s secretary. ‘Tell him I need to see them both urgently. I’ll meet them on the terrace at the House in fifteen minutes.’ He replaced the phone. ‘You can come with me, Jack, you’ve never been on the terrace, have you?’

‘What’s going on, sir?’

‘Wait and see, Jack, wait and see.’

Rain drifted across the Thames in a fine spray, clearing the terrace of people. Except for a few who stood under the awnings, drink in hand, everyone else had taken to the bars and cafés. Ferguson stood by the wall holding a large golfer’s umbrella his chauffeur had given him, Lane sheltering with him.

‘Doesn’t it fill you with

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