Читать книгу The Istanbul Puzzle - Laurence O’Bryan - Страница 14

Chapter 9

In Whitehall, in central London, not far from Downing Street, Sergeant Henry P Mowlam was looking out the window. The office he was in had a spectacular view over the London Eye. It was rotating, imperceptibly, against a backdrop of blue sky and the puffiest clouds he’d seen all year. His own office didn’t have a view like this.

‘Sergeant Mowlam,’ said a voice.

He turned. The meeting had been organised by the Ministry of Defence. The conference room, with its dark panelled walls, held over twenty people. Just his luck to get called the second he’d got a proper look out the window.

‘Yes, sir.’

The brigadier general who was leading the meeting from the top of the shiny oak conference table looked around the room, as if wondering who had replied.

Sergeant Mowlam coughed. ‘How can I help?’ he said.

‘I was saying, Sergeant Mowlam, that we have some new chatter that’s just come in. Can you give us the latest on it?’

‘We’ve been picking up email and Twitter feeds this morning, sir. We discount most of this sort of stuff, but these messages are between the organisers of the demonstration planned for Friday. They are about supplies. Shall I read them out?’

The general nodded.