Phoenix Rising by Pip Ballantine Page B

of sweat break out on the back of his neck. He found his intimidation of Sussex quickly waning. This pom was treading on matters that were not his concern. “With all due respect to your title and position within Her Majesty’s council, Your Grace, get to the damn point.” he hissed under his breath.
    â€œThe point, my dear colonial, is that you should spend less time at the boxing matches and more at the card tables,” he purred, helping himself to a salmon sandwich. “When the deck gets shuffled, it’s nice to have made friends with the dealer earlier.”
    Bruce heard Sussex, but his attention was divided. In his mind, he was preoccupied with financial sums, imagining what his wife Grace would say, and seeing the many shining faces of his children.
    â€œI’ve played my fair share of hands,” he replied cautiously. “Which way are you cutting the cards?”
    â€œSound is proving most ineffective with this . . . this organisation of his.” Sussex went on, “The Ministry has always been less of a representation of the Crown and more of his private agenda. I feel—as does Her Majesty—that its time has passed, and the formation of a new entity would be entirely in the Empire’s best interests. Something more dedicated to clandestine operations that concern both internal strife as well as international dangers. ‘British Intelligence’ has a lovely ring to it, do you not think?” With the sandwich, he merely nibbled at it, his eyes no longer regarding Bruce but seeming to lose themselves in a grand painting covering the tearoom’s far wall. “Regardless of what we call this new branch of the government, it will fall on me to populate it with the brightest minds, the most valuable resources.”
    The croc had its teeth in him now, and Bruce could feel it dragging him down. Surely there was only one way to make this less painful—let the bloody thing have its way. If he had to guess who had the more power between Sussex and the Fat Man, his bet was on the Privy Counsellor.
    Bruce sighed, “And what would I need to do to get into this new department?”
    Sussex’s eyebrows raised, his eyes looking above him as if he were searching for the answer to be floating in the aether above him. “Oh, let me see, a branch of Her Majesty’s government specialising in intelligence gathering and clandestine operations requires an individual of strength, cunning, resourcefulness . . .” His gaze then locked on to Bruce. “. . . and loyalty.” He leaned forward, his face hardening, the veneer of gentility disappearing completely. “I think you are more than the sum of your parts, my dear colonial; and while it may seem I am strong-arming you into roguish behaviour, I assure you the final choice is yours.
    â€œHelp me bring down Sound and the Ministry. Serve as my eyes and ears on the inside. I assure you that your actions for the betterment of the Empire will not go without proper compensation.”
    Only by tightening his jaw did Bruce avoid spitting out another crass comment. He thought of the friends and colleagues he had in the Ministry, and even the Director himself—who had been nothing but kindly to him. He wouldn’t call them “mates” like his friends back home, but they were individuals that relied on him to cover their backs. Even that loudmouth tart, Braun, he wanted beside him in a fight. She was a crack shot, handled explosives as if she were in a kitchen cooking up breakfast, and nastier than a Gurkha in a bar fight. This was a betrayal of trust at the highest level. A point of absolutely no return.
    Then he thought of Grace and the children. He owed them more.
    Sussex, seeing his pause, smiled thinly. “If your conscience is bothering you, Agent Campbell, then please remember we are all on the same side. Your ultimate loyalty must lie with Her Majesty after all,