Part 18 (1/2)

'The Eurozone Secret Service,' he said, sounding a little pained.

'Oh right. No. I'm Anji Kapoor. I'm a trader at MWF, a London bank.'

Baskerville wasn't sure what to make of that. 'Ethical fund management?'

Anji sighed. 'Not always.'

'Why not?' he was testing her.

'Because, ultimately, we're there to make money for our customers and shareholders. And there are very few stocks as reliable as tobacco and defence contractors.'

'Defence contractors?' contractors?'

'Arms manufacturers, then.'

'The people that make cl.u.s.ter bombs, strike aircraft and guided missiles. Defensive systems like those?'

'Yes. I don't create the demand by trading shares.'

'But you are a vital part of the process. Without the shareholders, how would they expand? Without people like you, how would they ever develop new... defensive... systems?'

'Is this third form debate going anywhere?' she asked, irritated. 'Without a military, the West would have been invaded by Russian tanks, or bombed to oblivion. Offensive weapons act as a deterrent.'

'Indeed.' Baskerville was smiling at her. 'Before we go any further... have you heard of Chechnya?'

'Yes. Part of the former Soviet Union. The Russians invaded.'

'The Russian tanks invaded, and eventually it was bombed to oblivion. I was there when the first nuclear device was detonated. Half a million children and old women turned to ash in an instant.'

Anji put a hand on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know.'

'Don't be sorry, my dear. I was a General in the Russian Army at the time. It was me that pressed the b.u.t.ton. And for the last ten years, since I left military service, I've been what you might call a freelance defence contractor.'

'An arms dealer?'

'Do you know what this planet's main industries are? Forget agriculture, forget the automobile. The four biggest industries on this planet are arms dealing, illegal narcotics, illegal arms dealing, and the oil trade. Narcotics and the oil trade have been in steady decline for decades. Arms manufacturing is, as you say, as blue chip a stock as you could hope for.'

'The market for time machines is even better?'

Baskerville shrugged. 'Not exactly. It's more a way of drumming up business. Increasing my cashflow.'

'By getting the Eurozone or the Americans, whoever will cough up to give you money.'

'Giving me money... yes. I hadn't thought of it in quite those terms, but yes. They will give me money. Now... I think I've told you plenty about myself. How about you, Miss Kapoor. It is ”Miss”?'

She nodded. 'What would you like to know?'

'You're young.'

'I'm twenty*seven.'

'But you're good at your job?'

'Yes.' It might have sounded arrogant, but as far as Anji was concerned she was just stating the facts.

'And you clearly have initiative. The CIA and the EZSS have been after me for years. They don't know my real name, only one of them knows what I look like. Yet here you are, standing in my cabin, looking very fetching I might add, and you've managed to get to the truth of it in a matter of hours.'

Anji s.h.i.+fted a little uncomfortably. 'Well, yes.'

'I don't have an electronic presence,' Baskerville said. 'There were army records, of course, ID numbers. But I faked my death. Most people who fake their death adopt a new ident.i.ty usually someone about their age who died. I... didn't. The whole world is data, now. Every square centimetre is just a set of GPS coordinates, every human being is just a serial number. The intelligence services have their listening posts, they have the keys to datanet encryption, they have their CCTV and image recognition software. This is a world where every syllable uttered is stored and logged. But I don't exist. They don't know my name, I don't have an email address, I don't even have a phone number or a IFEC account in my name. So they can crank up their search engines until they cannae take the strain, but they'll never find me. And as long as they can't find me, I'm invincible.'

Anji's phone started to ring.

Baskerville looked down at her bag.

Anji looked embarra.s.sed. 'I'm not expecting a call.' She fished it out of her bag and pressed it to her ear.

A moment later, she handed it over to him.

'It's for you.'

Baskerville's face fell.

'Baskerville, it's Cosgrove. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?'

'Er... no.'

'I hear you're dealing with the Americans, now.'

'I...'

'There's no use denying it, old chap, we've got you monitored, now. You're on a yacht in the Med, about fifty miles out from Athens. I'm in Athens myself, right at the moment.'

'Yes...'

'Now... you're meeting the President of the United States in Istanbul tomorrow. I will be there, bidding on behalf of His Majesty's Government. I can give you access to the ULTRA.'

'Is there anything you don't know about me?'

'I know where to aim the smart missile. In my experience, that's all you ever need to know about a person. Now you've met the Doctor, I believe?'

'Yes. I killed him.'

'No you didn't.'

'I threw him off the top of an office block, that usually does the trick.'