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Back Stealth Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
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  66. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  67. Excerpt from TREASON
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  70. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  71. What’s next onyour reading list?

Viv spoke up. “There remains her contention that St. George’s Hospital is still located on Hyde Park Corner, which it has not been since 1989.”

Stone turned to Felicity. “And do you still contend that MI-6 does not employ a Rose McGill?”

“According to our records,” she replied.

“Or a Rose Balfour?”

“That is another question, which I cannot confirm or deny.”

“Ahh, I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Why are you relieved that she won’t confirm or deny it?” Viv asked.

“Because that means that there is a Rose Balfour in their employ.”

“Oh, all right,” Felicity said. “I’ll tell you this much: she became an MI-6 asset while a student at Oxford.”

“Only an asset, not an agent?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

Everyone groaned.

“I cannot, at my whim, revise the Official Secrets Act,” Felicity said primly.

“Of course not,” Stone said, “even when you’re among friends.”

“I am among friends, for this purpose, only when I am alone in my office,” she replied. “That is not to disparage any of you, but in my work, good practice demands extreme caution.”

“We entirely understand,” Stone said placatingly, while he replenished her brandy.

“And when are you seeing Rose, Stone?” Viv asked.

“This weekend.”

“When, this weekend?” Felicity asked.

“She said she’ll call me when she gets her schedule sorted out.” He leaned over and whispered, “We’re on safe ground tonight.”

“I heard that,” Dino said.

“No, you did not,” Stone replied, fixing him with his gaze.

“Right, I didn’t hear that, I just assumed it.”

“Never assume,” Felicity said.

“You know,” Dino said, “if I never told anybody anything in my office, and if I didn’t assume a lot, I’d never get anything done.”

“It’s not about what you do,” Felicity said, “it’s about what you don’t do.”

“I’ll try and remember that,” Dino said.

Felicity put the back of her hand to her lips and yawned. “If you’ll all forgive me,” she said, “I believe I will get some rest.”

“Let me show you the way,” Stone said, rising.

20

Brigadier Roger Fife-Simpson rapped sharply with his heavy umbrella handle on the gray steel door in an alley off Charing Cross Road. A tiny window in the door opened. “Fife-Simpson,” he said to the eye behind the door.

“Wrong address,” a muffled voice said sharply, and the window closed.

Fife-Simpson rapped again, this time harder. The tiny door opened. “Yes?”

“I work here,” the brigadier replied.

“Name?”

“Brigadier Roger Fife-Simpson.”

“One moment,” the voice said, and the tiny door closed again.

The brigadier, who was not accustomed to being kept waiting on a doorstep, stood tapping a well-shod foot. Half a minute passed, and he put umbrella to steel once again.