They had been interrupted briefly by the housekeeper, but she had been ushered away with a wave of the head of MI6’s hand, leaving the two men alone. A scotch had been poured and passed across the desk to Daniel and now the two men were sat in stony silence, eyeing each other up across the oak desk.
“I’ll start.” Daniel said after taking a large mouthful of scotch. “I’m not trying to blackmail you or anything as crass as that. I have been tasked to kill you.”
The man opposite, placed his glass carefully down on the polished wood of his desk.
“Kill me? What the hell for?” he replied.
“It is deemed, that the service can’t have a repeat of the Burgess incident and your death, would be easier to release to the press, than a defection to the Soviets. Thing is, I don’t really want to have to kill you. So I think we should work out a plan, to get you and the senior under secretary, out of the country and away to somewhere neutral, before either side has chance to counteract.”
“Well, if what you are saying is true. What do you suggest we do?”