The Gulf Conspiracy by Ken McClure Page B

was in the army,’ said Maclean. ‘1 st Field Laboratory Unit.’
    ‘ That’s what you told the police,’ said Steven. ‘The MOD says they’ve never heard of it.’
    ‘ Lying bastards,’ said Maclean.
    ‘ Why should they lie?’ asked Steven.
    ‘ Christ knows!’ said Maclean, spreading his hands. ‘God knows why they even went to the bother of setting us up in the first place,’ he said. ‘They recruited us from all over the country: they trained us to monitor and detect the use of chemical and biological weapons in all sorts of situations and then they threw away every report we ever made. Now they’ve taken to denying we ever existed.’
    ‘ Bizarre,’ agreed Steven. ‘I take it you’re absolutely convinced that Saddam used these weapons?’
    ‘ Christ man, I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. I ran the tests. I isolated the bacteria. I’m not JK Rowling. I didn’t make the whole thing up. None of us did.’
    ‘ So why blame Porton?’ asked Steven. ‘Surely Gulf War Syndrome should be put down to the Iraqis and the CB weapons you say they used?’
    ‘ Some of the problems are due to that,’ conceded Maclean. ‘But there was something else going on. Saddam’s CB weapons and the allied fuck-ups helped disguise it but there was definitely something else going on.’
    ‘ And you think Porton were behind it?’ said Steven.
    ‘ I know they were,’ said Maclean. ‘I saw it in Sebring’s eyes when I talked to him.’
    ‘ His wife told me he was very upset after your visit,’ said Steven.
    ‘ He was upset when I arrived,’ said Maclean. ‘Now he’s dead, like my family.’
    ‘ I can understand your bitterness,’ said Steven.
    ‘ Can you?’ snapped Maclean. ‘It’s absolutely amazing the number of people who can “understand my bitterness” when they know hee-haw about it.’
    ‘ I lost my own wife,’ said Steven. ‘Cancer.’
    The comment stopped Maclean in his tracks. There was a long pause before he said, ‘I’m sorry but I bet it wasn’t from anything you gave her.’
    ‘ What makes you think your wife died from something you gave her?’
    ‘ I just do,’ said Maclean.
    Steven gave him a look that suggested this answer wasn’t good enough and Maclean said, ‘First it was me when I got back from the Gulf. I picked up every infection that was going; it was just one thing after another, colds flu, bronchitis, food poisoning, you name it. And then the same thing started to happening to my wife and daughter, only they weren’t so lucky. They died, God love them, one from a brain tumour, the other leukaemia and don’t tell me they’re not infectious conditions or try to tell me it was just bad luck. I’ve heard it all before. I know. Believe me; I just know it was down to me.’
    ‘ Have you ever heard of a man named Martin Hendry?’ asked Steven.
    ‘ He’s a journalist. He came to see me.’
    Steven was pleased to hear he’d made the right call. ‘What about?’ he asked.
    For a moment Maclean looked as if he might tell Steven to mind his own business but his hard expression changed and he said simply, ‘Gulf War Syndrome, he wanted to “know my thoughts”. He particularly wanted to know about infectious conditions reported by vets of the war.’
    ‘ Did he say why?’
    ‘ What reason did you have in mind?’
    ‘ Did George Sebring’s name come up?’
    ‘ No, why should it?’
    ‘ According to his wife, Sebring contacted Hendry after you’d been to see him and told him he had a story for him. They arranged to meet.’
    ‘ Well, well, well,’ murmured Maclean, smiling for the first time.
    ‘ Apparently Hendry has a particular interest in the Gulf War. He’s done a number of stories about it over the years.’
    ‘ I know,’ said Maclean. ‘I’ve read them all. Social conscience of the nation sort of stuff, high on morals, low on practicalities, typical Guardian stuff.’ Maclean looked thoughtful for a moment before appearing excited at the