Local time – 10:05pm, Saturday 16th June, 2011.
Prague, Czechoslovakia.
Alex said nothing; she was still distracted by her worry about Henry’s reference to Bernie. Henry merely looked shocked from what he heard in the speech. When Phil called from the lobby to say he was on his way up, Henry got up off the bed zombie like, and walked towards the door.
‘Wait,’ Alex called out. ‘I need to ask you something before they get here.’ Henry stopped. ‘What were you saying to Phil about Bernie? I overheard you.’
‘You were eavesdropping?’
‘No, not really, well sort of.’
‘What’s it going to take for you to trust me?’
‘I thought I did! Until I heard you telling Phil about Bernie’s iPad. I can tell you know him, Henry. You haven’t been honest with me. If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll leave. I’ll take my story and leave.’ Alex was trying hard not to let her voice quaver. She didn’t want to go out into the dark streets of Prague alone. She didn’t want to leave Henry. But she needed to know she wasn’t camping with the enemy.
‘One of the first things I learnt as an intelligence officer was never to reveal more than I had to. That’s what I’ve been doing,’ Henry explained rather stiffly.
‘Why? What’s going on? You knew who I was before you approached me, didn’t you.’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you want from me? Did you do something to Bernie?’ Alex clutched a pillow against her: a makeshift shield against what Henry might say. Her bag with the iPad sat next to the bed. She shifted closer to it so she could reach out and grab it if need be. Henry stared at the ground, then looked up, his expression gentle and kind.
‘Of course I didn’t do anything to Bernie. He’s one of our team.’
‘No he’s not! He works with me!’
‘Yes. But he used to work for MI6. We recruited him to help us get something that would be guaranteed to stop the Bilderbergers from launching a nuclear weapon strike. When he found out what they were planning, he was more than willing to help.’
‘Help do what?’ Henry looked about to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Like an obedient pupil, he opened it to Phil, Ryan and Josh. The men could see the tension between Henry and Alex, and looked at her worriedly.
Henry immediately explained. ‘She knows about Bernie guys. I had to tell her.’ Ryan and Josh looked nonplussed, but Phil was angry.
‘Why? We promised him! We promised we would never tell a soul what he was doing!’
‘He’s dead now! What difference does it make?’ Alex realised that Henry was sightly afraid of Phil.
‘It’s the principal. We took an oath to protect him. To protect his memory. Each person we let in on the secret is another liability.’
‘I’m not a liability! I have the iPad!’ Alex wasn’t sure where her outburst came from. Maybe it was a reaction to being spoken about as if she wasn’t there. Maybe she was hurt Bernie never told her his secret. The men looked at her and then at her bag. She picked it up and hugged it against her.
‘What happened to Bernie?’ she asked. Henry looked at Phil.
‘We believe Mossad got him. They must have found out what he was up to.’
‘Mossad! What was he up to?’
‘He spent many years in Pakistan in the 70’s and then again in the late 90’s until 2003. He still had contacts there. One of them knew about a nuclear warhead that the Bilderbergers don’t know about. It was Bernie’s job to find that weapon. It was our job to make the Bilderbergers aware we had it. So they could never use theirs. The ultimate Mexican standoff.’
‘He worked as a journalist in Pakistan. Not a spy.’ Alex realised as soon as the words came out that her statement was ridiculous. ‘Oh, that was his cover?’ Phil nodded. He became more animated when he spoke about Bernie.
‘I knew his son well when I worked for the CIA.’
Alex jumped up. ‘No. Bernie didn’t have a son. Laura couldn’t have children. You’re lying. You don’t know Bernie!’
‘His son was one of the best operatives I came across. That’s how I got to know Bernie, who was also a gun in his time. Bernie had contacts in most of the intelligence organisations in the world.’
‘I just can’t believe he was… he was never…’
Phil sat on the bed opposite her.
‘We don’t tell people what we do. Or what we used to do in Bernie’s case. He didn’t have to retire when he did, but after what happened to James…’
Henry stepped towards her, holding out his hands to take hers, trying to calm her down. She jumped out of his path and looked towards the window.
Phil took no notice, and went on with his explanation. ‘They told people they didn’t have children when they started their lives afresh in London. Bernie was a young 60, he could have kept working for years. But after what happened to his son, he didn’t want to anymore. He went into full time journalism as an escape from the horror.’ Alex started shaking her head.
‘No. You’re making this up. Bernie, and Laura, they would never lie, they couldn’t.’
‘Have you ever been to their house?’ Phil asked.
‘Of course, all the time.’
‘So you’ve seen the photo they keep on the mantelpiece of them with a teenage boy?’
‘It’s their nephew!’ Alex shot back. Phil mirrored Alex’s head shaking, as if in pity at her naivety.
‘James was recruited straight out of university. He always wanted to do what his father did. MI6 posted him in Iraq just before we invaded. An Iraq intelligence unit ratted him out. He was tortured and beheaded. Bernie was sent the tape.’
Alex felt vomit rising in her throat. Bernie’s obsession with conspiracy theories. And Laura doting on him. The pain in their eyes when they said they never had children. The way they mother me. She felt giddy with sadness for them. Phil looked almost ashamed to be telling the story. Ashamed that it happened.
‘Did he blame the Bilderbergers for the war? For what happened to James?’ she asked. Phil nodded. Henry wrapped his arms around her and for the second time that day, comforted her while she wept for Bernie.