“I saw—the report was classified.”

“Yes,” Weaver said. “I spoke to Control. She opened it and sent me the results. You were right to be suspicious. Smith isn’t his name. It’s Milton.”

Björn shrugged. “Should I know who that is?”

Group Fifteen was deliberate in ensuring that information was siloed within the organisation. Agents typically worked alone—operations like this one, with multiple agents deployed, were unusual—and the knowledge that they had of one another was kept to a bare minimum. Björn and the others put themselves in positions where capture was possible, and, even with the best counter-intelligence training, resistance to torture was, at the end of it all, simply a matter of biology. It could be resisted for a time, but, eventually, a good interrogator would always prevail. Everyone cracked. The best defence was ignorance; one could not reveal what one did not know. Björn knew that dictum pertained to both current and historic Group activity.

“What I am about to tell you is classified,” Weaver said.

Björn nodded his understanding.

“Milton—John Milton—was a Group Fifteen agent. He was Number One, like you, and he held that spot for years until he had some sort of breakdown and tried to quit. Control—the Control at the time—wasn’t happy with his decision, and, after trying to persuade him that he should reconsider, felt that he had to suspend him. Milton went AWOL. Control sent an agent to terminate him, but Milton escaped. They lost him for months until he showed up in South America. A team was sent to bring him back, but he evaded them. They found him in Russia after that, and another team was dispatched. Milton took them out.”

“Took them out?”

“Killed them, Number One. They lost him after that, and when Control died and was replaced, the decision was taken to close the file. He’s popped onto the radar now and again in the intervening years, but it was always decided to let him be.”

Björn frowned. “So why is he here?”

“We don’t know. But Control is very interested in finding out.”

“I can question him,” Björn said.

“Be careful,” Weaver warned. “He’s extremely dangerous.”

“I understand, sir.”

“And the Americans can’t know about this. An ex-agent getting involved and causing trouble… it’ll just make things more complicated.”

“Agreed.”

“What about La Bruja?”

“She’s fine,” Björn said. “They drugged her for the transfer, but she was waking up when they got her down.”

“Very good.”

“Two has been shot in the leg,” Björn said. “We’ll need to get him seen to.”

“I’ll sort that out now,” he said. “I’ll take him, Ten and Eleven. You, Six and Eight stay here.”

“With what orders?”

“See that La Bruja gets back to the jungle.”

“And Milton?”

“Control is clear,” Weaver said. “Find out what you can and then kill him.”

96