‘Well that’s vital, obviously,’ said Sir Roland. ‘Can’t have Tom’s agent blown up by his own side, can we? Though presumably we’ll be pulling him out of the area well before Bomber Command go in?’

There was a sudden silence in the room; then gentle coughing as people looked around to see who was going to speak first.

‘I think one has to accept,’ said Tom Gilbey, ‘that Agent Laertes needs to remain in Peenemünde for the duration of the bombing.’

‘The reason being,’ added Hamilton, ‘that we need someone on the ground to evaluate the damage and tell us how accurate our bombing was. Post-operation aerial photo reconnaissance will give us some indication, but that won’t be anything as valuable as an eyewitness.’

‘Once Agent Laertes has done that, we can pull him out. Agent Blackbird will help get him back to Denmark, and then we can bring him home.’

‘Assuming,’ said Lord Swalcliffe, ‘Arthur’s chaps haven’t blown him up.’

‘What’s this Agent Laertes really like, Tom?’

‘He’s already proven to be pretty resourceful, I’d say, Roly. He’s operated in Denmark and Berlin and managed to get into Peenemünde.’ They were in Pearson’s office after the meeting, the bombing raid now approved and a bottle of sherry on the desk.

‘Once the bombs start falling, that’ll be the real test, eh? So far he’s been in danger, but he’s had plausible enough cover stories. Once the place is destroyed, he’ll be completely exposed. Assuming he survives, that is. What was the name of that chap in the year above me at school? Big bully, captain of his house… you remember, he had three surnames…’

‘Furneaux-something-something-or-other?’

‘That’s right, filthy rich. What was it his father owned?’

‘Northamptonshire, I believe, Roly.’

‘Ah, was it? Well, I’m told he went to pieces on the Western Front. Never in much danger, managed to get himself a sinecure behind the lines, but was close to them one day when a shell exploded nearby. Wept like a baby apparently, had to be sent back to England; hasn’t dared show his face at old boys’ events since. Now for him, that shell was what truly tested him. Let’s hope your chap is made of stronger stuff. How about we open the sherry?’

‘I’ll pass, Roly, but there is something I want to make you aware of that I thought it better not to raise at the meeting.’

‘For Winston’s ears?’

‘Only if he asks.’

‘Pour me a sherry first if you don’t mind, Tom. Sounds as if I’m going to need it.’

Gilbey reached for the bottle. ‘We heard from Weston yesterday…’

‘Remind me, Tom, so many bloody names…’

‘George Weston, our head of station in Stockholm: he runs Agent Osric and is the go-between between her and us.’

‘Of course, carry on. And make it a large one.’