Читать книгу Choices - Jeff Edwards - Страница 15

‘You Aussies sure have a strange way of treating your agents,’ drawled Radford Spink. ‘We wouldn’t have stood aside while a local corruption investigation hung one of our people out to dry.’

Spink was Graeme Connors counterpart at the CIA, and both men were engaging in their usual exchange of information. Low-level meetings of this kind between the less senior officials of both countries were encouraged and in the past had proven vital to the overall security interests of both countries. Often the seemingly minor snippets of information that crossed from one organisation to another proved vital in creating better overall understanding of risks faced by both parties.

‘If you’re referring to that idiot Daniel Travers, then I can assure you that he is not one of ours, and if anything happens to him as a result of his stupidity, he will have deserved it.’

Spink looked bemused. ‘Not one of yours you say?’

‘Most definitely not. Why do you ask? What’s he to you?’

‘To us, nothing. But I thought your people would have placed a higher value on his services.’

‘Services?’

‘You aren’t using him?’

‘Why would we place a mole inside one of our own police departments? What is he supposed to have done there? Searched for information which we somehow requested, then pass that information on to a second party who is then supposed to have passed it on to us? What a load of rot! We have direct access to all police computers in all states. Travers is nothing but a lying fool.’

‘So he’s not one of yours?’

‘How many times do I have to tell you that?’

‘And he had no OTHER connection with your people?’

‘Of course not. What else could there be?’

Spink gave Connors a shrewd look and then shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose you must be right. I mean … you would have protected him if he had been one of yours … wouldn’t you?’

‘Of course!’

‘Well if you’re sure, I suppose that’s an end to it. It was simply that to our way of thinking Travers seemed to be such a “convenient” person to have around.’

* * *

Connors felt very uneasy about the exchange, and reported the conversation to the deputy director of ASIO, Colin Truscott.

‘He was convinced that this Travers person has some other sort of connection to ASIO.’

‘I’ve checked every source I know, and no one claims any knowledge of the man. All that we have is what is on our records or on his police department employment file.’

‘Nothing unusual?’

‘Nothing.’

‘What do we do about him? We can’t allow him to continue with this charade.’

‘We’ve requested the authorities at ICAC to cease any further investigations to do with Travers. From now on ASIO will handle the matter. If Travers continues with his attempted deception we’ll bring the full weight of federal law down on his head, and he won’t be able to spin his way out of trouble so easily then.’

‘Are we watching him?’

‘Not yet, but we do know where he is.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘He’s having a high old time with a couple of his mates from the army. They’re surfing at a place called Seashell Cove.’

‘I wish I had half his luck,’ sighed Connors as he made his way back to his office through the chilly Canberra afternoon.

* * *

Unfortunately ASIO’s information was slightly out of date.

Dan, Rick and Sam left Seashell Cove early that same morning, and as the meeting was taking place at ASIO headquarters the trio were standing at the check-in desk at Sydney airport with their surfboards in their individual travel bags, and their backpacks slung casually over their shoulders.

Once their luggage was checked in the trio moved on to the customs counter.

It was here that Dan expected to encounter trouble, and his heart was in his mouth as he handed his travel documents over to the smiling woman on the other side of the desk.

Nimbly she entered the relevant details into her computer while Dan held his breath.

Had the trio attempted to leave the country as little as an hour before a warning would have flashed across customs’ computer, but since the ICAC had been told to cease their surveillance on Dan the computer alert had been deleted.

With a stamp and a smile the young customs officer returned the documents to Dan and waved him through to the waiting lounges.

‘I need a beer after that,’ smiled a very nervous Dan.

‘Too right mate,’ smiled Rick as he slapped his friend on the back. ‘I reckon we could all do with a few to get us on our way.’