appeared impressed by the set-up, and the general assumption in Hereford had been that he had been cross-recruited.
'Listen,' he told Slater now, still smiling, 'are you free for lunch? Because if so give me half an hour
They arranged to meet in Harvey Nichols, at the fifth-floor restaurant. En route, Slater visited a shoe shop. He had a good suit, bought at Austin Reed out of his SAS clothing allowance, but if he was going to be pounding pavements he needed new shoes. He settled for Church's black Oxfords. The price made him wince but if there was one thing that Slater had learnt in his years of soldiering, it was that you had to look after your feet. In Harvey Nichols he added a couple of plain white shirts and a black, knitted silk tie to his shopping basket. You couldn't go wrong with black and white, he reasoned. It was discreet, as bodyguarding demanded, but it also had that sixties retro look he'd seen advertised in the magazines in the Minerva offices. Next time he came face to face with the delectable receptionist, he decided, he'd look the part.
At the table, Andreas immediately ordered them a glass of Champagne each. Slater eyed his narrow stemmed tulip-glass dubiously. The swanky restaurant and the Champagne obviously represented some sort of attempt to impress: in the old days they'd have made straight for a pub.
68
Chris Ryan
Neil!' Andreas began. 'How have you been?' fell, I'm out of the Regiment,' Slater began. 'I left : before Kosovo. Since then I've been working at a
jl, coaching the rugby team.' ^And how was that?' asked Andreas. 'A bit low-gear : a man of your talents, I'd have said.' fWell, it didn't really work out in the end,' said r. How much did Andreas know? he wondered. If was working for Minerva, presumably he wasn't working for Box. If, indeed, he ever had worked g'Box.
For a time they talked of mutual friends and old s. Slater reminded Andreas of an incident that had seen them both RTUed, when an intelligence known as the Forces Research Unit had jvered that a Provo sniper unit was assembling at scation near the border and had tried to scramble SAS. To their fury and frustration the FRU were that the Lisburn duty officer could get no jonse from the unit. Little wonder -- the entire i, including Slater and Andreas, had been at a Def >pard concert in the Belfast city centre. If any of Cm had heard their pagers over the ear-numbing of sound it would have been little short of a racle.
'This is good,' said Slater, indicating the shining iche of swordfish on his plate.
'It's metropolitan food,' smiled Andreas. 'You've en on ration-packs and school cabbage for too long. low did you find Minerva?'
69
The Hit List
'The money seems pretty good. And the work sounds pretty painless. How do you find it?'
'Well the fact is, Neil, I don't actually work for Minerva. I was looking for you.'
The? How did you know I was going to be there?' The moment he had spoken Slater realised how naive his words sounded.
'Everything connects, Neil. You know that. How about another glass of Champagne?'
'I'd have preferred a beer, but yeah, OK.'
Andreas smiled, beckoned him closer and brought him up to date. After the Overthrust exercise he had -- as Slater had guessed -- crossed over. He'd been ready for a change of scene. Had had enough, frankly, of freezing his bollocks off in all weathers.
And he'd enjoyed what he'd found, he told Slater. Plenty of brain-work, plenty of weirdness, and a lot of autonomy. 'I plan my own operations,' he explained. 'Get the word from upstairs and set things up in my own way.'
To Slater the whole set-up sounded unappealingly corporate. 'I'm glad it suits you,' he said. 'Personally, I'm looking forward to the freelance life.'
'You've never done BGing, before, have you?' asked Andreas, indicating Slater's empty glass to the waiter.
'Not outside of the Regiment,' admitted Slater.
'It sounds good,' said Andreas. 'You turn up at some fabulous apartment, pick up the lady of the
'Listen,' he told Slater now, still smiling, 'are you free for lunch? Because if so give me half an hour
They arranged to meet in Harvey Nichols, at the fifth-floor restaurant. En route, Slater visited a shoe shop. He had a good suit, bought at Austin Reed out of his SAS clothing allowance, but if he was going to be pounding pavements he needed new shoes. He settled for Church's black Oxfords. The price made him wince but if there was one thing that Slater had learnt in his years of soldiering, it was that you had to look after your feet. In Harvey Nichols he added a couple of plain white shirts and a black, knitted silk tie to his shopping basket. You couldn't go wrong with black and white, he reasoned. It was discreet, as bodyguarding demanded, but it also had that sixties retro look he'd seen advertised in the magazines in the Minerva offices. Next time he came face to face with the delectable receptionist, he decided, he'd look the part.
At the table, Andreas immediately ordered them a glass of Champagne each. Slater eyed his narrow stemmed tulip-glass dubiously. The swanky restaurant and the Champagne obviously represented some sort of attempt to impress: in the old days they'd have made straight for a pub.
68
Chris Ryan
Neil!' Andreas began. 'How have you been?' fell, I'm out of the Regiment,' Slater began. 'I left : before Kosovo. Since then I've been working at a
jl, coaching the rugby team.' ^And how was that?' asked Andreas. 'A bit low-gear : a man of your talents, I'd have said.' fWell, it didn't really work out in the end,' said r. How much did Andreas know? he wondered. If was working for Minerva, presumably he wasn't working for Box. If, indeed, he ever had worked g'Box.
For a time they talked of mutual friends and old s. Slater reminded Andreas of an incident that had seen them both RTUed, when an intelligence known as the Forces Research Unit had jvered that a Provo sniper unit was assembling at scation near the border and had tried to scramble SAS. To their fury and frustration the FRU were that the Lisburn duty officer could get no jonse from the unit. Little wonder -- the entire i, including Slater and Andreas, had been at a Def >pard concert in the Belfast city centre. If any of Cm had heard their pagers over the ear-numbing of sound it would have been little short of a racle.
'This is good,' said Slater, indicating the shining iche of swordfish on his plate.
'It's metropolitan food,' smiled Andreas. 'You've en on ration-packs and school cabbage for too long. low did you find Minerva?'
69
The Hit List
'The money seems pretty good. And the work sounds pretty painless. How do you find it?'
'Well the fact is, Neil, I don't actually work for Minerva. I was looking for you.'
The? How did you know I was going to be there?' The moment he had spoken Slater realised how naive his words sounded.
'Everything connects, Neil. You know that. How about another glass of Champagne?'
'I'd have preferred a beer, but yeah, OK.'
Andreas smiled, beckoned him closer and brought him up to date. After the Overthrust exercise he had -- as Slater had guessed -- crossed over. He'd been ready for a change of scene. Had had enough, frankly, of freezing his bollocks off in all weathers.
And he'd enjoyed what he'd found, he told Slater. Plenty of brain-work, plenty of weirdness, and a lot of autonomy. 'I plan my own operations,' he explained. 'Get the word from upstairs and set things up in my own way.'
To Slater the whole set-up sounded unappealingly corporate. 'I'm glad it suits you,' he said. 'Personally, I'm looking forward to the freelance life.'
'You've never done BGing, before, have you?' asked Andreas, indicating Slater's empty glass to the waiter.
'Not outside of the Regiment,' admitted Slater.
'It sounds good,' said Andreas. 'You turn up at some fabulous apartment, pick up the lady of the
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