The Glory Boys

'Don't interrupt me – not till I have finished. And I have not told your mother this. There is a threat against me when I go to London. There were two men from the Foreign Ministry who came to see me two days ago. They are to guard me, and they told me. It is not an important visit. I had been looking forward to it. Just one speech, and the chance to meet old friends and talk. Talk with different people. But it is something that could be cancelled, and the world would not topple. I do not know how to react to the situation. If there was a risk I would have presumed the Ministry, the Government, would have cancelled the visit themselves. But they have not done that.

They have just sent men to tell me that I will be guarded.

That is all there is. But what should I do?'

He looked at the boy, pleading, seeking for assurance.

But his son answered him predictably enough in the language of a serviceman who executed orders, believed in the inviolate authority of his commander. if they did not think it was safe they would not allow you to go. You are too precious to us all, Father, for them to risk you if there was real danger. If they have not suggested that you cancel, then you should have no fear.'

Sokarev kissed his son on both cheeks, easier in his mind now, dismissing the thought of a telephone call to the Director of Dimona, and together they came out of the office. But the gun, he would take that anyway.

Jimmy had shaved, put on a clean shirt, a suit and the old squadron tie. Finally he cleaned his shoes, and then made his way to Leconfield House. He'd sat in the outer office beyond Jones's door for more than half an hour, exchang-e ing small talk with Helen as she typed, while he waited for his appointment to be kept.

Jimmy was past fifty, and grey-haired. There was not much flesh on his face – the years of living and fending for himself alone had seen to that. There were dark, blotched patches, fierce and red, on his cheeks, not as bad as before he went to the clinic but still evident. A blood vessel had fractured in his left eye, leaving an oasis of crimson in the extreme corner closest to the bridge of his nose. He was tall, and not overweight – partly because he exercised in a private gymnasium, partly because his life style denied him regular food and meals. Helen could see he was ill at ease, almost nervous, as he constantly shifted his position in the chair. Come on, he thought, don't keep me bloody hanging about all day. It was the time he loathed. The time that elapsed before he was briefed, before he was back inside the team again and part of the new operation, when his mind was racing with unsubstantiated ideas. Leaves you like a vegetable, in limbo.

Jones came in, nodded to Jimmy, but spoke first to Helen.

'Any messages, anything new in?'

'Nothing,' she said. 'The DG would like to see you before six. He rang through. Nothing beyond that.'

Jones masked his disappointment. He walked through to his office, opened the door and asked Jimmy to follow.

Inside he offered him a chair, and then went to his own behind his desk. Jimmy could see the pile of slim cardboard folders on the desk top.

Jones was expert at setting out the skeleton of a problem. He took Jimmy through the information that was already available. He wasted few words, and there were no interruptions.

'That's the background. Not everything we have – you can pick that out of the paperwork when we've finished.

In ideal times we'd concentrate the major effort on lifting the bastards before they hit, but as you'll see from situation reports that we've been doing we're cold on that score.'

Just as Jimmy would have wanted it, thought Jones. When the rest of us are getting tired and looking to steer clear of the big ones, Jimmy'll be cheering from the top tower.

Proper job for him, one to tax him, one to test him. We're different people. Jones accepted that – the one played-out and trying to avoid the fracas, the other leaping about like a schoolboy. Not quite a smile from Jones. 'We have to be prepared for an actual attack, and I want you, Jimmy, to be right beside our Israeli brother. Adhesive-close, not out of your sight except when he's safely locked in the bloody loo. He'll have his own men with him, a cattle herd from Special Branch, all falling over each other and arguing protocol, but I want you a litle bit tighter on him than any of the others. Normally we wouldn't still be in on a thing like this, it would be straight police, but the ramifications are too big if it goes wrong. So you have no doubts about your position, Jimmy, I'll spell it out. If you see anything that bothers you, you act. If you see a gun close to him, you shoot. Don't concern yourself with the bloody paperwork, or the rule book.'

Jones looked thoughtful. Needed to be stronger than that, needed to elaborate, leave him in no doubt, owed it to the man at the sharp end. 'And if you hit some poor devil out for a walk in the park with his dog, we'll cover for you.'