Empire Games Series, Book 1(31)
Hulius caught a very slight tension around Jackson’s eyes, and caught himself before relaxing into informality—“Ellie’s doing fine. So are Sophie and Mary and Rina: we really must get together properly! But I take it you’re not here just to catch up?”
“Sit,” grunted Colonel Jackson, looking rather put out. Hulius sat. “Mrs. Hjorth, before your arrival I was expecting the major to report to me about a matter I can’t discuss in front of you. Hulius, if there are no special circumstances demanding immediate consideration, we can skip the verbal. Just have a final write-up on my desk by first thing tomorrow morning. Yes?”
“Yes—”
“Is this about the BRONX RESTART program?” Brilliana asked. Both men looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “Because if so, that particular report is due to land on my desk on Friday morning.”
Of course. Hulius felt like kicking himself. Definitely not a social call. Brill worked for Miriam: and this entire organization was one of her projects.
Jackson cleared his throat apologetically. “You may say that, but without confirmation I can’t discuss it with you.”
Brilliana, formerly the Lady Brilliana d’Ost, in the days before the Clan sought exile in the Commonwealth, frowned. It was an expression that struck fear in the hearts of braver men than Hulius. Now she turned it on Jackson. “The major has just returned from excursion AT-962, collecting this month’s uncleared intel package from Paulette Milan,” she said, speaking slowly and clearly. “His rendezvous point was the Blue Star Diner in Red Hook, New York. Colonel, your concern for operational security is noted, but you might want to bear in mind that to me, it’s family. If you really want to go through the motions, you can query my clearance with the Minister right now, but that will delay us and drag her away from her dinner—”
Colonel Jackson raised his hands in surrender. “That won’t be necessary!” he agreed hastily. “I’ll go through the forms and get you added to my cleared list tomorrow. In the meantime…” He winced. “Can I count on your discretion?”
“Certainly.” Brill’s smile was bright and, reassuringly, walked things back to just the right side of frightening. “I note that the TRACAN forecasts for safe transfer windows have been narrowing rapidly in the past six months. Yul, in your opinion, is Ms. Milan showing signs of stress?”
“Is she—” Hulius instinctively glanced at the colonel for permission. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Yes, she is. She’s not requesting extraction, but she’s clearly worried about detection.”
“I see.” Brill nodded thoughtfully.
Hulius felt an explanation was in order. “She has relatives,” he said. “Nieces and a nephew.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like much of a life to me, but it’s her choice.”
“Unfortunately—” began Jackson, just as Brilliana cut him off: “No it isn’t.”
She cleared her throat. “We owe her a huge debt, but the longer we run her, the higher the probability that the adversary’s traffic analysis will identify her as a person of interest. She’s already one of our longest-running agents. Part of my reason for visiting you today was to poll you about the practicality of arranging a voluntary or semivoluntary extraction—”
“Semivoluntary?” Hulius couldn’t help himself.
Brill’s lips pursed. “I can probably persuade her to cooperate, if I talk to her in person. Assuming we’re not already too late. But I think we need to retire her. She knows too much.”
Hulius shuddered. “It’s going to be difficult. The details will be in my report”—he caught Colonel Jackson’s eye—“but today was extremely difficult.”
“How difficult?” Her eyes narrowed.
“I nearly didn’t make it back.” Hulius’s shoulders slumped. “There’s no indication that they’re onto her, but they nearly caught me on the subway. I had to break cover and run.”
“Oh hell.”
“Well, that tears it.” Brill frowned. “I’ve got to talk it over with the Minister and clear it with Oversight, but I believe we’re going to have to end her residency.”
Hulius paused. “I think you’re going to want to use a different controller for that mission,” he said reluctantly. “I’m pretty sure they made me on the station cameras.”
Colonel Jackson was frowning too. “Just when we’re shorthanded.”
“Doesn’t signify,” said Brill. “We can’t afford to leave a compromised agent behind in the United States, not with seventeen years of accumulated bread crumbs pointing to her front door. It would tell them altogether too much about our interests and progress. But it would set a really bad precedent—a terrible one—if we liq—no, if we kill—a loyal agent for no fault of her own other than being at risk of apprehension by the adversary. ‘Trust is a two-way street’ and all that.” Hulius recognized the words: she was quoting the Minister, Miriam.
“We can lay the groundwork for an extraction,” Colonel Jackson said warily. “But I’ll need a written order.”
“You’ll get it tomorrow.”
“Is that all?”
“No, it isn’t.” Brill leaned back in her chair. “Feel free to correct me if I am laboring under a misapprehension, but Hulius isn’t due to visit Ms. Milan again for another twenty-seven days. Am I correct? And he’s going to have to be reassigned anyway, now that he’s apparently on their face recognition database?”