WINSTON CHURCHILL'S RENEGADE SPY
A CAFE OF SECRETS
Cavendish looked up to see the waiter arrive. “Splendid, our drinks are here. Thank you so much for your prompt service." He waited till the server had left before continuing. "Our freedoms are for now and for the foreseeable future in the hands of one man, Winston Spencer Churchill. He has been, in a remarkably short time, able to infuse Whitehall with a sense of purpose Chamberlain lacked. He's also been able to rally the country, something that former prime minister also couldn't accomplish. But there remains a singular problem. We fear there is a spy at the heart of the British government. Somewhere in the very Whitehall bureaucracy.”
AN OFFICIAL SWISS GREETING
"A word to the wise," the Swiss intelligence agent explained to Jonas." Some think Swiss neutrality is like our Swiss cheese, full of holes. Those who act that way end up in prison or being shot."
He reached his floor, and halfway down the corridor to his room, paused. His hotel room's door lay ajar. He felt his face tense and became aware of how fast he was breathing. He heard the rattle of dishes downstairs, the argument of a few hotel guests in a foreign language, but no sound of an occupant from his room. Yet its door lay slightly open. He eased his Walther out of his coat pocket, released the safety. Four quick steps on the bare wooden floor. At the door now he kicked it open, finger pressed to the trigger, ready to kill.