“If Britain is going to maintain its Energy Security position then its needs to do it by allowing Joint Ventures of this nature, for if it vocally opposed to them then our country’s major Nature Resource companies can kiss goodbye the prospect of cheap power from Russian related interests.” He paused to take a drink of water. “Britain just cannot afford the cost of taking a neutral position, Prime Minister,” he continued.
“How do you know this Thomas?” the Foreign Secretary queried.
“The President of Russia, unfortunately, made it abundantly clear to me in our last meeting,” Thomas said delivering the Mayor’s back channel message somewhat more diplomatically than when the man had actually said it.
The room was silent for a moment whilst it grimly absorbed his statement.
The UK, whether it liked it or not, was the slave of the natural resources of Russia and Asia and as such it had to always tread a tightrope in how it engaged above the line with them whilst not appearing as allowing them to walk all over them in front of the Americans who fuelled the Private Equity of the British Economy. The problems of Ukraine remained fresh in both politician’s minds. The prices of Natural Gas had spiked by ten percent in the months following the crisis, as Russia punished Europe for the sanctions they had placed on them.
The threat, masked as intelligence, that Thomas had just delivered them was a bitter pill to swallow, as it meant they would be facing additional Energy costs rises as they approached the general election.
Thinking on his feet, the PM closed the meeting with a request in very simple straightforward terms so he could take advantage of the DA notice.
“If Her Majesty Government agrees to support Russia’s security proposal to safeguard joint investment interests in this part of East Africa,” he paused before continuing, “I assume your media interests will be fully briefed?” He was referring to what he needed from TLH with respect to positive media for his Party in the next general election in return for his government’s support of his interests.
“Of course, Prime Minister,” Thomas replied without hesitation as he stared into the eyes of Elizabeth, having noticed she was somewhat uncomfortable over the misuse of the meeting for political capital instead of Her Majesty’s nation’s security. As he did so, he remembered where they had met.
Born of Algerian Jewish extraction whose grandparents moved to London in the twenties, Rebecca Leiris was forty-four years old, a graduate of Bristol in International Relations where she had achieved a First, and was recruited as a spy after applying for a position in the Foreign Office, only to be offered the opportunity to work in SIS half way through her interview. Never looking back, she truly loved her work and her country.
She had never married due to the nature of work or had any long term trusting relationships much to her parents’ despair and who to this day still didn’t know she worked in SIS as they thought she worked in the Foreign Office as an undersecretary.
Only her brother knew, as her next of kin, what she really did, and they had never told their parents, knowing they would worry nonstop if they did. A specialist in Russian affairs she had first come across Thomas Litchfield, as he was then, in the early nineties when she had been placed at the Embassy as part of the British Council and the British Ambassador had introduced them at a party under her real name. This had happened because her work at that time was merely analytical, and as such a Non Official Cover (NOC) identity wasn’t needed.
Intrigued by his flawless Russian, not to mention his rakish looks she checked him out only to find out that he was a decorated former ex-Special Forces British Army officer with some very interesting links to certain people emerging and making their fortunes in Yeltsin-led Russia.
They had never met again despite him ringing her to ask for a date, which she had turned down due to his rather exotic business interests. Instead, she had placed him on SIS watch list.
Over the years, Rebecca had watched him grow into an immensely powerful man with his tentacles reaching way beyond anything she imagined.
To her, Thomas, with a Russian child, Turkmen mistress, and most importantly the fact that Putin had granted him Russian Citizenship considering him an instrument of his new Russia to the extent that he had used him to deliver the threat, appeared to represent everything she most feared.
“Above the law, able to move within the corridors of power at will and a person who even had the PM of the realm she was sworn to protect appearing to ask him for favors!”
As the meeting broke up, Thomas followed his instincts that for some unbeknownst reason was convinced that Elizabeth held the key to his endeavor, not the Foreign Secretary.
“Elizabeth, you are most welcome to have a cup of tea anytime you want with me if you feel it would help” he offered.
“Thank you, Sir Thomas. On behalf of service I fully appreciate the offer,” the Foreign Secretary answered for her before she had a chance to.
“Excellent, that’s settled then I am sure we can leave the both of you to work out the proper place for the meeting,” said the PM laughing because he was actually quite pleased with himself over the fact that he just gotten an important endorsement from one of the country’s most famous media barons for his run-up to the next General Election.
Once on the road having left the building, Thomas turned towards his Executive Chairman.
“Brig, can you get everything on Rebecca Leiris please?” he asked
“Who the devil is that dear boy?” Angus asked
“The attractive lady you just met,” Thomas replied nonplussed to the shocked former Brigadier.
“I am not going ask!” Angus replied with a chuckle as they walked back up Downing Street to join Mikhail and the team outside the British Empire’s gates of power.
Whilst waiting in the lounge at the TAG Aviation’s private airport at Farnborough Airport to travel to Nice on one of the TLH’s G-4’s so she could organize The Libertine for the weekend, Nara’s mind began to wander as she looked at the guest list and the requirements.
When Thomas had first told her of the new role as the Executive Manager, all those years ago he said it was merely so he could bring her to England but when she found what “The Libertine” was, she had seen it as another sign.
“Allah was truly merciful,” and that he was her guardian.
The yacht “The Libertine” was her favorite place in the world when the passengers were only Thomas, Victoria, and herself.
Earlier Victoria had made Nara happy when she told her that she was starting to like the school in Somerset that Thomas had insisted that their baby went to, despite Nara’s forcible objections otherwise.
She missed her baby terribly and couldn’t wait to see her again.
Although she was protected 24/7 by one of Mikhail’s teams she always worried that someone would take her most precious gift from God, and having seen the effort by the childlike Jelep of Stevie only the night before as she attempted to flirt with Thomas her mind begun to wrestle with the realization that as she was getting older, her sell-by date was fast approaching.
“No,” she decided that wasn’t going to happen.
She was determined to protect her and Victoria’s place in his life.
“I will not let Victoria’s position come under threat from the day he would give in to his natural desires with the inevitable result being the introduction of a son from the liaison with a younger woman,” she resolved as the Captain arrived in the waiting room to advise that they could now take off.