Jackson forced a smile and gave Stratton a respectful nod.
‘He thought you’d rumbled ’im when you sussed him in the sub.’ Jervis paused to take a sip of wine. ‘Jackson did a little number on the device. It worked normally but it was obvious they’d want to strip it down and duplicate it so he put a clever little anti-tampering thingummy in it. When they put it back together it wouldn’t work. But you took care of all that, anyway. The tile is in the mine and no one’s going back into that place for a bloody millennium. They’ve sealed off the whole complex with a million tons of concrete . . . Does that about cover it?’
Stratton looked at the faces staring back at him: Nevins with a thin smile, Jackson apologetic, Sumners uninterested and Jervis like the cat that got the cream. ‘I suppose it does.’
Jervis moved his gaze to Rowena. ‘What are we going to do about you, young lady?’
Rowena took a long draw on the cigarette. She’d been wondering the same thing. By agreeing to go on the platform operation she had displayed a level of disloyalty to London. She expected to get kicked out and although she tried to be philosophical about it, looking forward to doing something new, deep down she was disappointed by the thought. She had never been completely comfortable working in MI16 but had never fully identified why. But then, she had never been comfortable anywhere. She suspected that was because she had always been under others. Perhaps the only answer was to find something she could do by herself. The question was what.
‘You fancy ’eading up Sixteen until I can find someone more intelligent?’
Rowena was quite taken aback by the offer but tried not to let it show. A feeling of relief flooded through her, quickly overtaken by an excitement and boost to her confidence. ‘Sure,’ she said, poker-faced.
‘Good. Stick around. We need to talk.You’ve got a bit of clearin’ up to do first.’ Jervis looked up at Stratton. ‘Well, if you’re not going to ’ave a glass, Stratton, sod off back to Poole and write your post-op report.’
Stratton was satisfied with Jervis’s explanation. And the last thing he wanted to do was have a beverage with that lot. He nodded a farewell and headed for the door.
As he stepped outside the hotel into the chilly air Rowena walked out behind him.
‘Stratton.’
He stopped to look back at her.
She took a final drag on her cigarette and dropped it to the ground as she approached him. All hostility and coldness had gone from her face. ‘I want to say thanks.’
‘We never thank each other afterwards. We all owe the same.’
She smiled softly and nodded her understanding. ‘You bothered Jason. Even before he met you. He couldn’t accept that you might be better than him. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the last thing he thought. You’d beaten him. That would have been even harder for him to accept than dying.’
Stratton didn’t particularly care what Jason had thought. ‘See you around,’ he said as he turned and walked away.
‘You are a lucky bastard, though!’ Rowena called out.
Stratton didn’t look back. He continued walking, a smile growing on his face.