Morgan glared at him. ‘You may not. And may I ask what this red-hot information is which I have to extract from her?’
Brink-Ford sat back.
‘First I’ll tell you how we’re going to get you into Grenada.’ He looked at his watch. ‘At this moment American battleships are steaming towards Grenada. Meanwhile troops are being assembled in nearby Barbados. Now, this afternoon you will fly to Barbados on a scheduled flight. With a false passport. You will be met by an officer of the United States Navy – a SEAL officer. That’s their specialized Sea Air Land forces, like our Special Boat Service. He will equip you with the uniform and weapons of an American SEAL.’ He glanced at his file. ‘Your name will be Steven M. Jackson. The M is for Matheson. You will be drilled on your new temporary identity. Family, training courses, military history. He’ll familiarize you with your weapons, et cetera. I’m told you’ve been trained to parachute?’
Morgan was staring at him. ‘Years ago. And I hated every jump.’
‘Well, I believe you may be parachuting into the sea, near the capital of St George’s, to start your search for Anna Hapsburg.’ He paused, collecting his notes. ‘We don’t know where she is. The island is in chaos. The telephones are cut. She may be barricaded in her home. Her parents are deceased, as you probably know. We think she may have fled to Government House. We know that about thirty civilians have taken refuge there, but we don’t know who they are. The governor is a British appointee, a black man called Scoon. Or she may be in one of the embassies. Anyway, you and your squad of SEALs will first look for her in her home. Then you will storm the rabble army that is besieging Government House, get inside and see if she’s there. If she is, you will all simply hold the fort until the invasion is over. Which should only be a matter of two days or so. And you, personally, will stay in Anna Hapsburg’s company all the time.’
Morgan could hardly believe this was happening.
‘And if she isn’t in Government House?’
‘You go back over the wall and look for her,’ Carrington said. ‘First in the obvious places, like foreign embassies. You’ll take some SEALs with you. When you find her, report by radio to Command. If you’re in a safe place, like an embassy, sit tight until the bun-fight’s over. If you’re in a dangerous situation, radio for help.’
Brink-Ford said: ‘Above all, you’ve got to keep Anna Hapsburg safe. Avoid risks as far as possible, avoid confrontation with the enemy, but give nobody the benefit of the doubt. Shoot to kill anybody who looks like endangering her. And the same applies to yourself – it is vital that you stay alive.’
Carrington smiled: ‘We thought you might like that part of it.’
Morgan was in no mood for jokes.
‘So that I can win her confidence for you bastards.’
Brink-Ford said earnestly: ‘For Queen and Country. Mr Morgan, you are the only person who can win her confidence …’
‘And if she doesn’t divulge the information to me, you’ll get it out of her by hook or by crook?’
‘Mr Morgan, the whole purpose in sending you is so that we do not have to get it out of her by hook or by crook. And to get her away from people who would certainly not hesitate to use force to get the information. And then kill her afterwards. Namely, the Russians.’
Morgan stared. He thought, Jesus … ‘And the Americans also want this information?’
‘Indeed. They’re collaborating with us. But only the SEALs in your immediate squad will know that your special assignment is to find Anna Hapsburg. They won’t know why. They’ll ask no questions. And only a couple of people in the whole armed services will know you’ve been put there by us.’
Morgan was grappling with all this.
‘But rather than disguise me as an American soldier, where my true identity may be discovered, why not send me disguised as a British journalist, or diplomat?’
‘Because,’ Carrington said, ‘officially Great Britain is keeping out of this. That’s why we’re asking you to do this unofficially, not serving Call-up papers on you. And because this is a highly military situation, you need the cover and facilities of the military to do the job properly. Journalists can’t run around with machine guns, can they?’
Morgan sat back. And took a deep, tense breath. Bemused. Anna had come back into his life? … And for a moment he felt a flash of anger. ‘You’ll cause endless trouble,’ Janet Nicols had said. She was right. He said: ‘Tell me what information I’m after.’
Brink-Ford sat back. ‘I can tell you only as much as you need to know.’ He paused. ‘You have probably heard of Klaus Barbie?’
Morgan said, wonderingly: ‘Klaus Barbie? The “Butcher of Lyons”?’
Brink-Ford said: ‘Exactly. He is a Nazi war criminal who has recently been found in Bolivia, extradited back to France, and he’s presently in prison awaiting trial for murdering hundreds of French during the war. The French authorities have enough evidence to guillotine him a dozen times. Yet they are stalling on the prosecution. Why?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘The theory is that Klaus Barbie knows certain facts that he is threatening to reveal if he is brought to trial. Those facts, if he could prove them to be true, would be … terribly damaging to certain institutions in the West.’
Morgan was even more amazed. Anna was involved in this?
‘What institutions?’
‘That is the only detail I will tell you. You need to know that much, to help you … unravel Mrs Hapsburg’s mind. Because that information which Klaus Barbie possesses was also possessed by Max Hapsburg. Indeed, we believe Max Hapsburg actually possessed the evidence. We believe it is in the form of an intelligence file, acquired by the Nazis during the war, or possibly in the form of a microfilm of that file.’
Morgan was amazed. ‘How did Max Hapsburg get hold of that file? He’s my age, born after the war.’
‘Good question. How much do you know of Hapsburg’s history?’
‘Only what his wife told me. That his father was a wealthy German who lived in South America after the war, married a Greek woman. He wasn’t a Nazi war criminal, was he?’
‘No. He was a Nazi, undoubtedly, but not a war criminal. Have you heard of Admiral Canaris?’
‘Yes,’ Morgan said. ‘He was the head of German Intelligence during the war, wasn’t he?’
‘Correct,’ Brink-Ford said. ‘Dietmar Hapsburg, Max’s father, worked with Admiral Canaris in Intelligence. It may be that when Germany crumbled, Dietmar Hapsburg fled to South America with this file – as insurance. When he died, Max came into possession of it. Somehow, Klaus Barbie got to hear of it, presumably.’ Brink-Ford held up his palm. ‘That’s as much as you need to know. We know – or we think we know – the general nature of the information. What we haven’t got is the proof – the file, or the microfilm, that shows it to be true. Or false.’ He added: ‘We sincerely hope, by the way, that it is false.’ He sighed briskly. ‘Max Hapsburg was a very wealthy man, with many connections. Maybe he kept the evidence in a bank vault somewhere. Or in a hole in the ground. We don’t know.’ He nodded at Morgan. ‘But we think Mrs Hapsburg knows. And that’s what we want you to find out. But more than that. We want you to get Mrs Hapsburg to a place of complete safety while we get hold of this evidence, and check it out.’ He pointed at the floor. ‘Right here, where we can look after her. Because, I assure you, Mr Morgan, a number of other people will be after her too.’ Brink-Ford elaborated: ‘In fact, I do not exaggerate when I say that Mrs Hapsburg’s life is in extreme danger. Mercifully, for us – and for her – and for you – we have the might of the United States military behind us. If Anna Hapsburg were on her own in the middle of this Russian-inspired coup in Grenada, she wouldn’t