Deception by Adrian Magson Page A

talents?’
    â€˜That’s where the touchy-feely face comes in. Your average squaddie gets some cash and a promise, and is told to get lost. Helps perpetuate the myth. But there’ve been rumours that they don’t react well to any specialist talent turning them down once they’ve got them in their sights. Two Armoured Regiment bods who’d bunked off after testing a new battle tank were approached but said no. They ended up dead in a drive-by shooting in Melbourne. These people are in it for the money and they don’t play nice.’
    Harry studied Ballatyne’s face. He was too experienced to be giving anything away, but the way he was talking gave a hint of something which made the hairs stir on the back of Harry’s neck.
    â€˜You’ve got an insider,’ he said softly. Ballatyne had just revealed a little too much detail for this to be idle speculation. ‘Someone in the Protectory.’
    â€˜Nothing like that.’ Ballatyne’s response was bland. ‘We’ve been getting a few hints, that’s all. Stronger than gossip; enough to know that it’s not, as you put it, campfire stuff.’
    â€˜And where does Paulton fit in?’
    â€˜He and Deakin know each other from way back. Deakin was also spotted hanging around at Frankfurt.’ He produced another photograph from his pocket and held it out for Harry to take. It was the same shot he’d shown him on the day of the shooting in St James’s Park: Paulton crossing a pavement in an anonymous street, about to get in a car.
    â€˜I’ve seen this already. So?’
    â€˜I know you have.’ Ballatyne gave a knowing smile. ‘I also know you’ve got your little mate Ferris analysing the details to see if he can come up with a location.’
    Harry didn’t rise to the bait. Maybe Ballatyne didn’t get the opportunity to show off much, surrounded as he probably was by Sixers who thought themselves smarter, sharper and more ambitious. ‘And?’
    â€˜Forget it – you’re wasting your time. It was taken in Brussels.’ Ballatyne’s finger was tapping on a man standing back from Paulton. He looked to be in his forties, dressed in a pale suit and looking relaxed and fit. ‘This is Deakin. Remember the face.’
    Harry stared at the two men in the photo, trying to remain calm at the knowledge that Ballatyne had been playing him with this photo, drawing him in. It was part of the game; he should have known.
    â€˜Paulton’s with the Protectory?’ It was a hell of a jump from waging war on spies, terrorists and anyone threatening the country’s security, to actually helping its enemies gain vital military information. Had he really gone that far overboard? Or had that always been his plan, working towards this goal? The possibilities were unsettling. No wonder someone on Ballatyne’s level had been put on the case.
    â€˜Almost certainly. But Deakin’s the one to watch. Nicholls has moved into the background. It’s possible he doesn’t like what’s happened and has cut himself off. He’s an idealist. But Deakin’s an attack dog. He rarely goes anywhere without a couple of Bosnian wingmen with him, guarding his back. They do the heavy lifting.’
    â€˜Thanks for the warning.’ Sensing there was nothing more to come, Harry stood up to leave, then turned back. In the background, Ballatyne’s minders stirred. ‘There’s one thing.’
    â€˜I know,’ Ballatyne said. ‘Gordon Cullum. He rang me. You upset him.’ He didn’t seem too put out by the revelation.
    â€˜Is he for real?’
    â€˜Real enough. He was in Five for years, worked undercover in Ulster back in the early days. He’s now a sort of floating liaison between the MOD and the Intelligence community, used whenever there’s an overlap of responsibilities, like now. He’s due for retirement soon, but