After an acrimonious US election whose outcome Moscow may or may not have influenced, can it really be that a few maverick intelligence agents from Russia and the United States are fighting a discreet battle-to-the-death on some of London’s out-of-the-way back streets? And that the corpses are piling up, out of sight of the British police? And even that the whole thing could spiral at any moment into God knows what version of World War Three?
Or is that just more “fake news”?
… Well, luckily, no it isn’t.
Not yet, anyway.
Because the media still hasn’t heard about it.
But that could change. When MI7 Agent John Mordred is assigned to investigate, he discovers a veritable Schrödinger’s Cat state of affairs in which the relevant facts are neither wholly present nor entirely absent. And where some of the evidence lies closer to home than is comfortable.
Slowly, possibilities begin to emerge that surpass his most pessimistic apprehensions.
Or do they?
In the end, he is forced to confront one question. Just what is the truth anyway, and why do we care?
Genre: FICTION / EspionageJust published today. Selling nicely.
The most memorable thing about the drive to the Shard came just as they left Thames House. A dishevelled man of about sixty came out of nowhere and hammered on the car window.
“John Mordred! I need to speak to you, John!”
Mordred, blond, thirty-two and clean-shaven, sat on the back seat next to his boss, Ruby Parker, a small black woman with a severe expression and her hair in a bun. Both jumped at the interruption. A couple of policemen rushed in, dragged the interloper away, and the car resumed its journey. Kevin, the driver, made momentary eye-contact with Mordred via the rear-view mirror. He didn’t look pleased, but then, he never did.
“What was that?” Ruby Parker said.
“No idea,” Mordred replied. “And I’ve no idea how he knew my name.”
But she was on the phone. “Colin, the police have just picked up a - man outside the vehicle entrance. Tell them to hang on to him until I return. And find out how on earth he managed to get within ten yards of us.” She hung up and turned back to face Mordred. “You’ve never seen him before? He seemed to know you.”
She surely couldn’t expect him to repeat that he didn’t know whoever it was? “I tend not to keep company with the kind of people who throw themselves at cars shouting my name. There are lots of ways he might have looked me up. I’m pretty much MI7’s agent in plain sight nowadays. My feeling is he’s a journalist of some kind.”
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Alberto Fernández
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Author review: An excellent translator. Extremely conscientious and very hard working. I would recommend him to anyone. |
