Sir Alan took off his trademark tortoiseshell glasses and cleaned them methodically. He held them like a weapon of war while Rose and Kate waited for him to eviscerate his successor. ‘Ian, since you’re new to your responsibilities, perhaps I can diplomatically remind you that our commitment to our sources is what sets us apart and makes us the envy of intelligence services the world over. We have neither the wealth of the CIA nor the wide degree of latitude in mores and methods of Mossad, or indeed our many enemies in Russia, China and North Korea. Our word is our bond. That is what we have. A global reputation for protecting our assets and taking their secrets not just to their grave, or all of ours, but history’s too.’

‘I’m not sure I need a rather pompous lecture from you on—’

Sir Alan leant forward. ‘We gave this girl our word.’ He looked, suddenly, as if he would rip Ian’s throat out, moving from easy-going spymaster to visceral agent in a heartbeat. It was a side of her former boss Kate had rarely witnessed, but then she’d never heard anyone dare to talk to him in the patronizing and disparaging terms Ian had just used. Ian looked taken aback. ‘Kate merely promised her sister that she would attempt to—’

‘To be clear,’ Kate said. ‘Lena did not want to go on to that super-yacht. She collapsed in terror during our last meeting in Istanbul before she was due to go on board. The only way I could keep her on track was with the promise that, whatever her fate, I would make sure that we got Maja out of Belgrade and away from the dismal prospect that awaited her in life there. It was a specific, categoric promise.’

‘I have flipped the IT upgrade on the first floor into next year’s budget,’ Rose said, ‘so there is no longer an issue.’

Ian looked as if he would throw his breakfast at Rose, but she held his gaze. ‘We’ve discussed the plan for the IT upgrade endlessly,’ he said. ‘We can’t simply throw it all into the air just because—’

‘I’ve informed everyone involved. They’re perfectly relaxed about it.’

Ian’s cheeks reddened. He liked to pride himself on being two steps ahead of everyone else in the great intelligence ‘game’ so the pain of being so swiftly and adeptly outmanoeuvred appeared almost physical. He pushed away his plate, took a sip of coffee, breathed in deeply and faced the window. ‘You speak of our reputation,’ he said slowly, before turning back to them. ‘Well, then, let us be clear. It is a widely held view in this organization, and in many of our sister agencies around the world, that our handling of events over the last year has come close to making us a laughing-stock. You will acknowledge, I trust – at least in the privacy of this room – that I was opposed to the operation to bug Igor Borodin’s yacht from the very start.’