Skydancer Read Online Free

speak, but no words emerged.
    â€˜What do you know about this, Anderson?’ Sir Marcus continued, looking ready to launch a physical attack on anyone he could hold responsible for the disaster.
    â€˜Nothing at all, PUS,’ Anderson half stammered in reply. His face was flushed. ‘I’m shocked . . . utterly.’
    â€˜I’ll start a review of procedure immediately, sir,’ the security man broke in, eager to press on with a detailed investigation.
    â€˜It’s a bit bloody late for that!’ Beckett snapped. ‘The bird seems to have flown!’
    He strode across the room to glare angrily out of the window at the Thames Embankment below. Peter Joyce stared at the Undersecretary’s hands clasped tightly behind him. The fingers of one hand turned white with the pressure of his grip, and then began to colour again as the sight of the slow-moving river traffic seemed to exert a calming effect.
    â€˜All right,’ Sir Marcus said eventually, breaking the uneasy silence, ‘let’s look at the worse case scenario.’
    He sat himself at his desk, and drew a blank sheet of paper from a drawer. Then he wrote the figure ‘1’ at the top left-hand corner.
    â€˜We have to assume that every page of the documenthas been photocopied,’ he began. ‘There would be little purpose in doing just one, unless someone is simply trying to make a point.’ He paused to look round at the expectant faces of the three men opposite.
    â€˜Well? Is someone trying to make a point?’ he demanded. ‘Someone who knew there was a weakness in the security system, and wanted to show it up?’
    His enquiry was greeted by murmured denials and frowns.
    â€˜What about your secretary, Anderson? Could she be up to something? Any odd behaviour lately? Change of life, that sort of thing?’
    â€˜Oh . . . I hardly think so, PUS,’ Alec Anderson answered hurriedly. ‘She’s a bit young for that, and although she’s been careless with the keys, I’m sure her loyalty is not in question.’
    Anderson cast a furtive glance at Peter Joyce, but the scientist stared back impassively.
    Sir Marcus began to write.
    â€˜Then we have to assume we are talking about espionage,’ he declared. ‘The assumption must be that someone had copied the Skydancer plans and is feeding them to the Russians. But why was this single page found in a rubbish bin? Were the Russians meant to pick it up from there? It’s damned odd; I mean there must be dozens of safer places to make the handover – why choose a rubbish bin?’
    â€˜I’ve already got someone observing the place, sir,’ the Commander interjected, ‘in case someone comes looking for the document. But I agree it’s an odd place.’
    â€˜The big question,’ Beckett continued, as if he had not heard what the security man had just said, ‘is whether this bungle occurred at the start of the handover process, or whether the Russians already have all or most of the rest of the papers.’
    There was no sure answer to that question, but as Peter Joyce had explained, the Skydancer plans were of critical national importance, and if the secrets were already largely in the Russians’ hands, several hundred million pounds of taxpayers’ money could now have been totally wasted. A political hornet’s nest of huge dimensions would be stirred up the moment news of this security leak emerged.
    There was a chance, just the slightest chance that the mystery could be solved rapidly, Beckett thought to himself. In which case it might never need to become public knowledge, and the Prime Minister could be spared the damaging publicity and the taunting from the opposition in parliament. He would have to call in the security service immediately, that was clear, but he would hold back from telling his Secretary of State about it in the hope the matter could be quickly resolved, without