Killer Elite (previously published as the Feather Men) by Ranulph Fiennes

absent but still the éminence grise.
    Mantell had recruited and run the first few Locals in the early seventies, but then an operation on his hips had partially failed. Spike was taken on at Mantell’s suggestion and became the only salaried member of the team. Macpherson alone knew the identity of the sponsor who provided Spike’s pay. Spike had grown to dislike Mantell and his rigid toeing of the line laid down by Bletchley. As far as Spike was concerned, strict adherence to the law could and often did hamper their efficiency. It could also endanger his Locals. That they should never carry firearms, even if as individuals they possessed licenses, was a major bugbear and one that Spike rigidly, if unwillingly, enforced. Even the least important of his operations was always recorded and, after discussion by the committee, filed and logged at Jane’s home.
    Bletchley was not to be diverted by Macpherson on this occasion. Bristol should never have happened. “The ethics of the committee and the disgraceful goings-on in Bristol are inextricably entwined,” he growled at the meeting in general and Macpherson in particular. “We have enough high-level contacts between us to manipulate events of this nature. A word in the ear of the Bristol constabulary would probably have been every bit as effective.” He turned to Spike. “Was any approach made to the police?”
    The committee, according to Bletchley, were so blessed with prestigious acquaintances that they could steamroller their way almost anywhere by a series of strategic string pulls. To him all criminals could be outwitted by cunning, by disinformation and checkmates. The right pressure at the right time could achieve the committee’s every aim.
    Spike knew that this had been the original concept of the founder and of Macpherson too, but unlike Bletchley and his disciples, they had adapted to the demands of reality when the concept proved largely a pipe dream.
    “No. We did not tip off the police,” Spike replied. “You may remember that my report last October made it clear that the police knew our target was involved in drugs long before we became involved. But they had nothing at all to hang on him, so they were powerless to move against him.”
    “Chairman.” Macpherson sounded irritated. He was a man of action and could not stand time wasted in dithering. “This matter comes down yet again to the simple question of whether we as a committee are prepared to be flexible and move with the times. Of course, I do not mean we should lower our basic moral tenets to those of the unpleasant people we attempt to frustrate. But we should look to the likes of Churchill and Kennedy, both leaders of democracy who clearly believed that some ends justify some means. The nastiness that can threaten our ex-SAS people is becoming more varied and our enemies are more sophisticated at finding loopholes in the law. If and where the police cannot provide adequate protection, we
have
to try to find an appropriate way to do so.”
    There was silence but for the strains of a bagpipe lesson mingled with the muted screams of Hill House School children playing football on the grass outside.
    Macpherson spoke again. “In the last war our bestSpecial Forces leaders were those who studied Lenin, whose saying included ‘the need for “all-sidedness” is a safeguard against rigidity.’ And Chairman Mao echoed this theme with ‘We must learn to see the reverse side of things. In given conditions a bad thing can lead to good results.’ This Committee will get nowhere if we remain hidebound by rules we ourselves set nearly a decade ago.”
    For thirty minutes the matter of Bristol was thrashed out. Bletchley’s final recommendation did not include censure of the methods used. He merely suggested a periodic check to ensure the target did not return to Bristol and that the time was ripe to notify their friend in Chippenham that his daughter’s killer had been hounded from the city and