‘I’m sorry; I’m not with you today.’ The PM appeared puzzled.
Stern sighed in exasperation. This wasn’t the first time he had had to explain the concept to his boss. The fact that the PM had forgotten about the issue so quickly meant either he hadn’t understood in the first place, or he had understood and dismissed the problem. But Stern liked him because he was always prepared to listen to what people around him said, regardless of how critical they were. In the end he would consider all sides and decide. Not all his decisions were good though, and Stern was concerned this was a case in point.
‘You should be worried, Prime Minister. Over the last twenty years Russia has grown used to dominating the world stage from a position of wealth. From that wealth comes its power. Most of its affluence traditionally derives from oil and gas revenues, and it has used this to control its former socialist states. Its voice in the United Nations has grown in strength, especially in the Security Council.’ Howard Stern glanced at the PM. ‘You know all this to be true.’
The PM nodded in agreement. ‘Go on.’
‘There is still a lot of corruption in the country, particularly in the energy sector. I know the President has made huge strides in tackling the problem, but nevertheless it still exists. Its pipe infrastructure is leaky. Fees for leakages are paltry. Companies pay the fees because it’s more expensive to fix the leaks. Whole areas in Siberia and the north are black with oil. Leaked oil is finding its way into Arctic seas, so pollution is another problem that will come back to bite them — and us.’ Stern opened the file on the desk. ‘That is the least of their problems.’ Stern gestured to a page in the report. ‘Oils wells are running dry, and many gas fields are coming to the end of their useful life.’
‘I still don’t see why this should matter to us.’
‘Look Terrance, I predict two things will happen.’ He ticked them off on his finger. ‘One. Russia will become like a bear with a sore head. Its position in the world is being undermined by wealthier countries out-performing it, not just in energy terms but also in high-tech industries. Russia is already losing face to its upstarts.’
Stern ticked off his second finger. ‘Two. Russia needs to rejuvenate its income, or it will become a poor super power has-been.’
‘You mean, like us?’ murmured the PM.
Stern ignored the remark. ‘There is one area where they could make it happen.’ He tried to gauge the PM’s openness to his idea.
The PM shook his head. ‘Tell me.’
‘The Arctic.’
The PM held up his hand. ‘You’ve talked to me about this before, Howard. But the fact is, the Arctic is a hostile environment. It’s covered in ice for a lot of the year. Temperatures are very low, and the sea is deep. The cost of extracting oil or gas is too high to be economic.’
Howard Stern sighed again. So this was the reason the PM had dismissed his earlier argument. ‘The ice cap is getting smaller every year. There are credible predictions it will disappear altogether in ten years’ time. Russia has already published plans to provide floating nuclear-power platforms. We know an increasing number of rigs are being sent to the Kara Sea. And Russia still has ambitions for mining oil and gas reserves beyond their 200-mile boundary because it believes Arctic waters to be an extension of its continental territory.’
‘Howard,’ the PM interjected. ‘This topic isn’t going to win us any votes. Even if we could do something about it.’
Howard drew in a deep breath, his patience almost at the end. ‘Terrance, the whole point of this is not about self-interest. There are two elements beyond votes that are important: the future of the people dependant on the Arctic in order to live, and global warming. In other words the future of people on the planet.’
For a moment there was silence in the room.
‘OK Howard, I understand. But right now I have more pressing priorities. Can we look at this some other time?’ The PM studied his Foreign Secretary to gauge his reaction to the delay; he didn’t appear to be happy about the prospect. ‘I will pick this up again. Now, do you have anything else for me?’
Reluctantly, Stern put the topic aside. ‘No.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to go to.’ As he got up the PM spoke again.
‘I’m sorry Howard, but business has to come first.’
The Foreign Secretary paused at the door, then left without making a response.
Terrance Ashdown tapped the pen against his cheek. There might be an opportunity to have a word with the Presidents of Russia and America in Vienna. But once they understood the topic concerned the environment north of the Arctic Circle, they would just ignore him and try to fob off the issue.
Perhaps there was a way he might get their attention. He jotted a note to himself in the diary.
Abbott summoned Sean after HR had retrieved his personnel file. When Sean entered, Abbott was flicking through the folder. ‘I just wanted to refresh my memory. I did check your record before Vienna.’ He gave Sean an appraising look. ‘I’d heard about you on the grapevine before then.’ He topped up his mug. ‘I was looking forward to working with you.’
‘Was?’
‘Well, I am looking forward, though sadly it will probably be the first and last time.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘I think the records say you have a Reg. C.’
‘Yep.’ Sean had initially signed up for a regular commission with the commandos.
‘Which means you could retire at age 40 or after 18 years, whichever is the longest.’ He drank from the mug. ‘You accepted several extensions to your contract, so notice period is 6 months — unless you have any pressing personal matters.’ He regarded Sean. ‘Do you have any?’
Sean’s head jerked up at the news. Six months! ‘Any chance of reducing that?’
Abbott shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know Sean, but if you can make a case I will personally try to push it through.’ He leaned back. ‘I don’t want to give you any false hope. It will be difficult — there aren’t enough agents and Executives, and support staff have been cut to the bone.’
He bent forward. ‘As missions go, this is an easy one. If you’re successful I will see what I can do to reduce the notice period.’
Sean could turn the mission down flat if he wished and get on the next plane to Venice where Natasha was waiting. He marvelled at the clever way Abbott had couched the terms. By accepting this easy assignment, he would cut his notice.
Sean thought hard. It seemed a good deal at first glance. But most of his missions were like the proverbial poisoned chalice. On the previous assignment the real objective hadn’t been revealed to him at the outset, and it nearly resulted in the death of his fiancée.
‘Let me give you the brief, then perhaps you can think about it before deciding.’ Abbott’s offer appeared generous, but he was only giving Sean the standard option.
Sean nodded. He might as well listen to what he had to say. ‘Executive?’
Abbott shook his head. ‘Not needed.’
Sean considered that. An agent was usually assigned to an Executive for a specific operation. They would work together, with the Executive having the more senior role. The agent would do all the dirty work, and the Executive would provide him with anything required to complete the mission. That might be a whole range of items, including intelligence, cars, guns, a safe house or whatever was required. Executives were also responsible for liaising with London to ensure the Section stayed in the loop. Except for the abortive operation in Vienna, Sean couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been assigned to someone. Perhaps this was the way the Section intended to operate in the future.
‘Budget cuts again?’
‘Not really. We just don’t see the need at present.’