Execution (A Harry Tate Thriller) Read Online Free Page A

one upstairs – is, strictly speaking, under the control of the Ministry of Defence. Because the patients are nearly all military, the consultants and staff have specialist responsibilities. We merely supply a service.’ He looked rather pleased with that summary and glanced again at his watch. ‘Look, I must go – I have a staff meeting waiting.’
    Harry recognised the dead hand of officialdom guiding the man’s attitude. He wasn’t going to get anywhere here. Better to go higher up, to someone who might know something. The one person who knew Clare Jardine’s background.
    Richard Ballatyne.

FIVE
     
    ‘Y ou haven’t been in touch.’ Richard Ballatyne’s tone was as neutral as his grey two-piece suit, befitting his position as a head of operations in the Secret Intelligence Service, known otherwise as MI6. He eased himself down on the bench alongside Harry with a sigh and took off his glasses, rubbing his face.
    ‘No need, was there?’ Harry shifted over to give him room and watched as the intelligence officer’s suited minder strolled past a few feet away. The man was new to Harry, albeit a clone of the previous hard-case, with a suitably square chin and watchful eyes. Ballatyne must have worn out the old one. Another man, slightly younger, in jeans and a soft jacket, with the sloppy appearance of a street rat, lounged on a bench twenty yards away. Who’d have thought, Harry pondered; MI6, equal opportunity employers. He knew their presence wasn’t Ballatyne’s choice, but since his predecessor had died at the hand of a rogue former special forces soldier, extra measures had been introduced by his superiors.
    ‘True enough. That was good work in Kosovo. Messy but . . . useful.’ He was referring to an assignment Harry and Rik had undertaken for the UN, weeding out an assassin tracking down personnel suspected of being guilty of rape several years ago in the beleaguered region. They had also succeeded in unmasking the guilty rapist, the shock waves of which were no doubt still rattling the innermost ranks of the UN in New York, but unknown by the world at large.
    ‘We try to please.’
    They were seated in Victoria Embankment Gardens, a stone’s throw from the Thames and the steady roar of morning traffic along the Embankment. It was one of two preferred meeting places for Ballatyne, the other being an Italian restaurant in Wigmore Street that Harry had never seen open for business.
    ‘They’ve chopped the trees back since our last chat,’ Ballatyne commented, nodding towards the clear view of the London Eye turning lazily across the river. ‘Pity. I liked them in full leaf. It’s like sitting in a goldfish bowl now.’
    ‘Your choice, coming here,’ Harry pointed out. ‘You could always invite me to your office and show me your certificates.’
    Ballatyne grunted. They both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Ever since being placed on a hit list by his former boss, rogue MI5 Operations Director George Paulton, and narrowly escaping with his life, Harry had been let go by the security agency. It had been more out of embarrassment than any doubts about his character or loyalty. Ballatyne, however, had shown few qualms about using his skills, although it would probably never include being allowed inside the hallowed portals of SIS headquarters.
    ‘So what’s the big flap?’ Ballatyne asked, brushing a stray hair from his immaculate suit. ‘I was out of the country until yesterday evening, and dropped at least three active files and a second permanent under-secretary from the MOD because of your call.’
    ‘I hope he was worth it.’
    ‘She, actually. And yes, it was. The woman’s a professional tick, like most of her kind, but we can’t always choose the people we get to work with, can we? Now, spill.’
    Harry took a deep breath and said, ‘Clare Jardine.’
    Ballatyne muttered an obscenity. ‘What about her?’
    Harry stared at him. He’d rarely heard Ballatyne swear, but this had