Read Online Spider Shepherd 11 - White Lies by Stephen Leather - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephen Leather
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very unsettling career.’
‘Most undercover agents I know are single or divorced,’ said Shepherd.
‘True,’ said Stockmann. ‘But not many work undercover for more than a decade.’
‘Caroline, what are you getting at?’
‘I’m not getting at anything. I’m just getting a feel for your situation. That’s what these biannuals are all about. Assessment.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘You don’t feel lonely?’
‘Lonely? Are you serious?’
‘You’re a single man in a line of business that doesn’t lend itself to forming stable relationships.’
‘I’ve got friends.’ Stockmann smiled but didn’t say anything. ‘You mean girlfriends?’ The psychologist continued to stay quiet, but her smile widened.
Shepherd shook his head. ‘Caroline, I’m not a monk. I do have my moments, it’s just that I don’t shout it from the rooftops.’
‘That’s good to know. Look, don’t read too much into what I’m asking. I just want to make sure that you’re socialising outside work, because when you’re working more often than not you’re not yourself. You need time to be Dan Shepherd among regular people.’
Shepherd pulled a pained face. ‘There’s a problem with that, of course. I work for MI5, and that fact can’t be public knowledge. So any relationship I have with anyone has to be based on a lie.’
‘True,’ said the psychologist.
‘That’s the problem, and always will be. No matter who I meet, one of the first things that comes out of my mouth is a lie, and there’s no taking that back.’
‘What do you tell people, civilians?’
‘That I work for the Home Office. Boring administrative stuff.’
‘And they buy that? With your physique?’
Shepherd laughed. ‘My physique?’
‘You don’t look like a man who spends his day driving a desk,’ said Stockmann. ‘That’s what I meant.’
‘I tell them I run, which is true.’
‘You still do that thing with the rucksack of telephone directories?’
‘Bricks,’ he said. ‘Wrapped in bubble wrap. Do they still make telephone directories?’
Stockmann laughed. ‘You’re right. It wouldn’t be the same with a couple of CDs, would it.’ She sighed. ‘I should exercise more,’ she said. ‘My blood pressure is creeping up. Ditto my blood sugar levels. But you’re disgustingly healthy, I gather.’
Shepherd smiled, noting that she had obviously seen his last medical.
‘So, I think I’ve pretty much run out of questions.’
‘And I’m good?’
‘I wish everyone I saw was as well balanced as you, Dan.’ She bent down, picked up her briefcase and put away her notepad. She looked at her watch. ‘Is there any way you could run me back to the station, there’s a train to London in half an hour.’
‘Happy to,’ said Shepherd. ‘Just promise not to ask me any more questions about my love life.’
‘The food could be better, couldn’t it?’ whispered KC. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Hammad was out of earshot. KC was sitting with Rafiq, Sami and Labib, cross-legged around a rough wooden table placed on a grubby green and red
dastarkhwan
that had been spread across the rock floor. They were in a large cave halfway up a hill that overlooked the goatherd’s cottage where they did a lot of their training. Hammad had explained that the drones that flew overhead were equipped with thermal imaging equipment that would show up their bodies in any normal structure, but in the cave they were safe. It was where they ate, slept and prayed, and bathed from water stored in large earthenware jars. The food was filling but not particularly tasty and was brought in each morning in the back of a battered pick-up truck, along with fresh water.
They were eating in traditional style, using their right hands to dip their naan bread into bowls of lentil curry or watery chicken korma and picking up cubes of lamb from kebabs that had been cooked on a small fire at the entrance to the cave. The fire had also been used
‘Most undercover agents I know are single or divorced,’ said Shepherd.
‘True,’ said Stockmann. ‘But not many work undercover for more than a decade.’
‘Caroline, what are you getting at?’
‘I’m not getting at anything. I’m just getting a feel for your situation. That’s what these biannuals are all about. Assessment.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘You don’t feel lonely?’
‘Lonely? Are you serious?’
‘You’re a single man in a line of business that doesn’t lend itself to forming stable relationships.’
‘I’ve got friends.’ Stockmann smiled but didn’t say anything. ‘You mean girlfriends?’ The psychologist continued to stay quiet, but her smile widened.
Shepherd shook his head. ‘Caroline, I’m not a monk. I do have my moments, it’s just that I don’t shout it from the rooftops.’
‘That’s good to know. Look, don’t read too much into what I’m asking. I just want to make sure that you’re socialising outside work, because when you’re working more often than not you’re not yourself. You need time to be Dan Shepherd among regular people.’
Shepherd pulled a pained face. ‘There’s a problem with that, of course. I work for MI5, and that fact can’t be public knowledge. So any relationship I have with anyone has to be based on a lie.’
‘True,’ said the psychologist.
‘That’s the problem, and always will be. No matter who I meet, one of the first things that comes out of my mouth is a lie, and there’s no taking that back.’
‘What do you tell people, civilians?’
‘That I work for the Home Office. Boring administrative stuff.’
‘And they buy that? With your physique?’
Shepherd laughed. ‘My physique?’
‘You don’t look like a man who spends his day driving a desk,’ said Stockmann. ‘That’s what I meant.’
‘I tell them I run, which is true.’
‘You still do that thing with the rucksack of telephone directories?’
‘Bricks,’ he said. ‘Wrapped in bubble wrap. Do they still make telephone directories?’
Stockmann laughed. ‘You’re right. It wouldn’t be the same with a couple of CDs, would it.’ She sighed. ‘I should exercise more,’ she said. ‘My blood pressure is creeping up. Ditto my blood sugar levels. But you’re disgustingly healthy, I gather.’
Shepherd smiled, noting that she had obviously seen his last medical.
‘So, I think I’ve pretty much run out of questions.’
‘And I’m good?’
‘I wish everyone I saw was as well balanced as you, Dan.’ She bent down, picked up her briefcase and put away her notepad. She looked at her watch. ‘Is there any way you could run me back to the station, there’s a train to London in half an hour.’
‘Happy to,’ said Shepherd. ‘Just promise not to ask me any more questions about my love life.’
‘The food could be better, couldn’t it?’ whispered KC. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Hammad was out of earshot. KC was sitting with Rafiq, Sami and Labib, cross-legged around a rough wooden table placed on a grubby green and red
dastarkhwan
that had been spread across the rock floor. They were in a large cave halfway up a hill that overlooked the goatherd’s cottage where they did a lot of their training. Hammad had explained that the drones that flew overhead were equipped with thermal imaging equipment that would show up their bodies in any normal structure, but in the cave they were safe. It was where they ate, slept and prayed, and bathed from water stored in large earthenware jars. The food was filling but not particularly tasty and was brought in each morning in the back of a battered pick-up truck, along with fresh water.
They were eating in traditional style, using their right hands to dip their naan bread into bowls of lentil curry or watery chicken korma and picking up cubes of lamb from kebabs that had been cooked on a small fire at the entrance to the cave. The fire had also been used
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