What was Ascension like right now? He imagined it silhouetted against the sea. Precious enough for the UK to cling on to. Precious as an offering to the States. The whole GCHQ-NSA relationship was fragile, Kane knew. The Americans wanted to monopolize the flow of Western signals intelligence. What did they get from the Brits, they asked? Some good mathematicians, a loose regulatory environment, then a few strategically placed lumps of rock. The UK didn’t have Hong Kong to wave at them anymore. There was Cyprus, of course, its British base hoovering up data from the Middle East. Then Ascension.

“The island captures half the communications circulating the planet,” Taylor said. “But it’s not an easy place to keep tabs on, ironically.”

“The eye sees not itself.”

“Not this one. The installations are mostly managed remotely. I’m told they target long-range high-frequency radio for the most part: military, shipping, that kind of thing. The men on the ground are private contractors, on hand in case a screw needs tightening. Otherwise, we’ve got a permanent crew of about fifteen RAF personnel, four or five radar engineers, more subcontractors maintaining the runway. I need someone to get into the community, find out about Rory’s last days. There are very few officers read into Echelon with the training for overseas missions of this level. You’re the only one I know.”

The only one who knew about Seeb, Kane thought. How much of this was about Taylor’s conscience?

“He might have left something,” she said. “Intentionally or unintentionally. A message.”

“Anything to suggest it?”

“That’s my speculation. You always talked about the need for humans on the ground when it came to espionage.”

“I’m very happy being away from the field.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Aren’t I?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think you mean you’re not.”

She considered this. “I’m not happy. I’m certainly not craving a return to the field.”

“What are you craving?”

“Dreamless sleep. A large vodka tonic. Why haven’t you sent any students our way?”

“Why do you think?”

She sipped her tea.

“You think we’re all better off out of it.”

“I’m thinking you’re doing well, all things considered. You’re going to make it to the top. And it would be a better service if you did.”

He watched the succession of emotions cross her face. She had been ambitious—he had recognized that in Oman. And he recognized now the caution with which she handled that ambition, on the other side of personal catastrophe. A readjustment. But not entire, otherwise she wouldn’t have been here, trying to get him on this job. When he finished the cigarette, Kane closed the window.

“How would I get there?” he said. “If I went.”

She studied his face before replying, as if to ensure he really wanted to cross this threshold.