The Oath: Newcentury: Trilogy 1

By Carlos Agramonte

The Oath
Newcentury: trilogy 1

Stan Cooper, MI6’s British secret agent, arrived at Atocha station shortly after a terrorist organization had carried out a bomb attack that left dozens of dead and wounded scattered all over the place. He was petrified when he discovered that his mother was among the victims.
He swore over his mother’s dead body that he would find the culprits. It was the only way to cope with the pain.
When he discovered the Islamic terrorists, he knew that they were a powerful and sophisticated organization led by scientists who had the power to eliminate him. He knew that he would face a monster that was almost impossible to defeat.
He could not expect MI6 to get involved in his personal war. He had to face them alone. He was only accompanied by a friend from MI6.
Everything started to go wrong when the terrorist organization found out that Stan Cooper had discovered them. From that moment on, they began a ruthless hunt to kill him.
Now he must fight for his life to fulfill the oath he had made over his mother’s dead body.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palibrio
• Release date: Apr 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781506547329

Carlos Agramonte

CARLOS AGRAMONTE Estados Unidos. Nació en R.D. Durante más de 25 años se dedicó a la enseñanza universitaria, conjuntamente con su vocación de escritor; que ahora ejerce a tiempo completo. En la primera etapa de su vida de escritor la dedicó a la poesía, destacándose los títulos: Raíz, Descubriendo mi Propio Viento, Pequeña Luna, La Cotidianidad del Tiempo y El Silencio de la Palabra. Desde hace años se ha consagrado a escribir novelas de gran formato. Entre los títulos publicados se destacan: Definiendo el Color, El Monseñor de las Historias, El Generalísimo, El Sacerdote Inglés, El Regreso del Al Ándalus, Memoria de la Sombra, Secreto laberinto del amor y, Inminente ataque. Desde sus primeras novelas, las cuales obtuvieron buena acogida por parte del público, Carlos Agramonte demostró que dominaba el género y se revelaba con una gran imaginación. Sus novelas han provocado los más calificados elogios por parte de sus fieles lectores.

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Copyright © 2022 by Carlos Agramonte.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations,

and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or

are used fictitiously.

Rev. date: 04/19/2022

Palibrio

1663 Liberty Drive, Suite 200

Bloomington, IN 47403

842334

CONTENTS

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He who does not understand is deaf.

1

W hen Stan Cooper entered the building on Vauxhall Cross Avenue, it was covered in white. Winter had arrived in full force, and London was freezing. His footsteps rumbled in the long corridor that led to the office of the head of MI6. He fixed up his scarf to protect his neck because he had an annoying cough. He was arriving at the appointment he had arranged with his boss at the time scheduled.

He had arranged a meeting with the head of MI6 to request special permission to carry out an operation against a terrorist group. For several years he had been gathering information to find the people that had killed his mother on March 11th, 2004, at Atocha station in central Madrid. He knew it was Al Qaeda, but he had not managed to find the brains behind the criminal attack. He was now ready to bring justice; something the Spanish government had not done. Nobody would stop him from finding the ones that organized the terrorist attack in which his mother had died.

When he opened the door to the office of Dwight Brown, the head of MI6, he found his boss smiling.

Congratulations, Stan! Brown said as he rose from his seat and began walking to the door that had closed behind him.

Stan Cooper was surprised by the reception given to him by the head of MI6, the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) of the United Kingdom.

I’m glad to find you in a good mood. I have no idea why you have congratulated me but thank you anyways.

Come on man; the whole agency knows you’re getting married. You cannot have a secret wedding, even if you are a secret agent.

Cooper unbuttoned his black overcoat and let himself be embraced by his boss, who happily congratulated him. Dwight Brown did not have the faintest idea what it was that had brought his best agent to ask him for a secret meeting such secrecy. He didn’t even want a witness or even someone in the secret service of Her Majesty.

It is true that I’m getting married, but I think that will have to wait. I have something more important to do right now, Stan said in a serious tone.

Now it was the head of MI6 who was surprised. Stan had not come to his office to seek permission to celebrate his wedding, but for a matter of the utmost secrecy. He was not asking for time off so he could get married and enjoy his honeymoon. He had been married before and knew that secret agents only had time off for the first few days of marriage to enjoy their honeymoon.

Dwight Brown sat his body, of six feet and one hundred and twenty-five kilos, down in the armchair that accommodated him on the large desk. He would wait for Stan to speak before saying another word. He had been wrong. Being the head of MI6 and not knowing everything that was happening with his secret agents, was something unforgivable. Agent Stan had a secret he did not know about.

Stan Cooper sat down. He expelled the air in his lungs and stared at his boss. He knew that he was bringing him the worst news of his life.

2

"I came to request that you relieve me of my duties in the agency," he said as if he were reading a movie script.

Director Brown’s expression was one of total bewilderment. He shook his head and covered his ears as if he had heard wrong. It was not possible that one of his best agents was requesting to leave the agency.

What!?

I want you to relieve me of my duties in MI6. I’m in a complicated situation, and I do not wish to cause complications for you or the agency.

Stan, what is going on? asked Director Brown, who was still in shock.

I need to leave for a personal job, and I cannot ask permission for it. Plus, I’m sure you would not give it to me. I do not want to violate the regulations of the agency.

Director Brown leaned back and ran his hand over the baldness that covered most of his head. He needed a few seconds to digest what his special agent had abruptly mentioned.

Take off the required time and explain what is going on. I want all the details, Stan. I am the best secret service director in the world, and I do not know what is happening within my agency? Do you think I’m stupid? What the devil is going on?

Dwight, I do not think you’re stupid. It’s a personal matter, and you do not have to know about it. Do not think you can know everything that happens in the lives of everyone in the agency. What I need to do is of a personal nature.

Director Brown remained with his blue eyes fixed on Stan Cooper. He did not expect to be defied by his best agent. Also, they were very good friends. Stan was his star agent in matters of terrorism.

Tell me what’s happening. Then we will talk about what you have requested. You know very well that secret agents do not just leave the agency just like that. You are a man of experience and you know the intricacies of this trade. There can be no secrets between us. You know that personal matters do not exist in the agency.

Stan Cooper got up and walked around the large office. It seemed that he was organizing his words so that he could explain to Director Brown the drama he was living. He did not want to start a war.

Dwight Brown watched him silently, waiting for him. He was anxious

You know very well how my mother died, he said in a perplexing tone.

She was one of the victims of the terrorist attack of Al Qaeda, on March 11, 2004, at the central station of Atocha, in the center of Madrid. I have read the report of all the Islamist cruelty.

Exactly.

Those responsible have been prosecuted and sentenced in Spain. That chapter had been closed. The Spanish government caught all the terrorists involved, and they are locked away. This is a closed case for the Spanish authorities.

It’s closed for the Spanish government, but not for me, he said, stiffening his eyes.

Stan Cooper’s face hardened. Suffering the death of his mother had remained unresolved; he could not get it out of his mind.

Explain yourself, Stan. At the time, you worked at the National Intelligence Center in Spain. The CNI did not do its job? You know that case very well.

Stan had a moment of silence. He wanted to organize his thoughts. Remembering the past was causing him immense pain.

I’m going to tell you a long story; I’ll try to make it as short as possible. Before the attacks of March 11, 2004, I had access to documents of terrorist groups operating in Spain, including those of an Al Qaeda cell. Some months before the attacks, I informed my superiors that there would be an attack by Al Qaeda; but, at first, the CNI officials did not want to act. After many arguments, they brought the information to the central government, but they were in an electoral campaign and did not want to act to prevent the terrorist attacks of those damn fanatics. They doubted my findings and said that I was paranoid.

Damn! I did not know about that, Brown exclaimed, opening his blue eyes.

That’s not all. The real story is not known to the Spanish people. After the attacks, they began to work like idiots to blame someone and find an excuse for their stupidity. When I went to Atocha station and saw my mother mangled by the explosion of the bombs, I swore to look for the ones who did that to her. During all these years I have been gathering information to find the brains of the attack. It’s not that I don’t care about the guys that put on the bombs, but I wanted the minds who devised that gruesome plan that took the life of the one that I have loved most in my life. I wanted the ones that made those deadly backpacks, but I discovered something horrible.

Director Brown was buried in the chair. The story Stan told him was horrible. It was an entirely different version than the one he knew.

The brains are from Al Qaeda. You should look for them in Afghanistan or Pakistan. I do not think you can find them in this parts, he said blinking his blue eyes.

I have information that they are in Spain and that, very soon, they intend to make another attack; and this time a much larger one.

Director Brown leaned on top of his desk, rubbing his ears.

We must give this information to the Spanish intelligence services, Director Brown instinctively said.

I do not trust the Spanish intelligence services. I am working here because I resigned from the CNI and because I think they are inept to confront this band of terrorists. Those fuckers cannot stand up against the group of fearless terrorists that make up ETA. Also, I am not sure if they are controlled by ETA or by a new terrorist organization.

Now I do not understand why you want to leave the agency. Especially now, that you need it the most. You cannot face this powerful terrorist organization alone.

The MI6 cannot authorize me to act in Spain without informing the Spanish secret service. I do not want to have any Spanish agents near me. I want you to relieve me of my duties, so I can find my mother’s killers and make them pay for their crimes. This is a personal matter.

Dwight Brown made a disconcerting silence. He was shocked.

3

P aloma Rosario opened her big beautiful eyes and noticed that it was already past eleven o’clock in the morning. She jumped out of bed and went into the steaming hot shower. She felt herself levitate from the happiness that overwhelmed her. That day she was going with her boyfriend to the church to set a date for their marriage. She had to pick him up at the Barajas airport. After being in a relationship for five years, he had finally decided to ask her to marry him. She was humming a popular song while letting herself be caressed by the stream of hot water that fell on her, freshly cut at the level of her ears, black hair. She came out of the shower wrapped in a large white towel. She searched for her cell phone. She had to call her boyfriend to find out when he would be arriving in Spain.

Hello, Stan! she said when she heard her boyfriend’s voice. What time will you arrive at Barajas?

Hi, Paloma! I don’t think I will be able to get to Madrid today. I’m in an important meeting with Director Brown, and I will not be able to leave London. Some inconveniences have arisen, and we will have to suspend the wedding.

Suspend!

I cannot talk right now. I’ll call you later, he said and hung up the phone.

For a long time Paloma was listening to the sound produced by the disconnected phone. She was shocked by what she had heard. She did not know what to think. <> she thought. She shook her head trying to get rid of that thought. Stan was the man of her dreams, and she knew that he loved her madly. In any case, she had no choice but to wait for her fiancée’s call to find out what had happened to suspend the legal proceedings of the marriage. Something very serious was happening with her boyfriend, and she did not know about it. She threw herself on the bed and closed her eyes as if she wanted to escape from it all. She felt a void so big that her eyes filled with tears. She did not know if her fiancée had decided to break up with her. <>

4

D irector Brown paced thoughtfully from side to side in his large, decorated office. He could not understand what was happening in Agent Cooper’s mind. He knew that he could not leave the secret service of the United Kingdom for a simple personal matter. He did not want to take drastic measures against Stan, but he didn’t leave him much choice. He was sorry for his friend. He did not want to lose one of his best agents and even better friend.

You intend to confront Al Qaeda as a Lone Ranger. I think you’re losing your mind, Stan, he said, angrily. You have gone mad.

Stan Cooper sat in a comfortable black leather chair and watched how bewildered Dwight Brown was. He knew that he would look for a solution that would allow him to leave the agency and be able to undertake the mission that had been discussed. Director Brown knew him very well and knew that he would not change his mind.

I have no other choice. MI6 will not approve a mission to eliminate members of an Al Qaeda cell or another terrorist organization within Spain. I’m not going to sit around all my life waiting for those fuckers to kill other mothers.

We can give the information to the Spanish secret service so that they can catch the terrorists. I don’t think it’s realistic that you embark on such a dangerous and difficult mission. If you give me the information, I will let them know.

I do not think that the intelligence services of Spain want to trap the Al Qaeda cell. They are busy with small bombs that the ETA detonates. Any explosion from ETA, which is more noise than anything else, they spend months doing anti-terrorist publicity. I do not believe in the secret service of Spain. I know them more than anyone else, and I know they are incompetent. What I am going to be doing is personal, and I do not want interference from the Spaniards, he said emotionally. Also, it’s not really Al Qaeda.

Damn it, Stan, you alone cannot declare war on Al Qaeda! Director Brown shouted. That’s just suicide!

I’m not going to declare war on Al Qaeda, but on a worse organization that is operating within Spain. Those who murdered my mother will have to pay for their monstrosities. I have enough information to find them. I’m going to fulfill the oath I made over my mother’s dead body.

Director Brown approached Stan. He stared at him, almost tenderly. Ever since Stan arrived at the agency, they were close and had a great friendship. He did not want to lose one of his best agents.

Stan, he said, now in a soft tone, I cannot relieve you of your duties in the agency. You have no valid reason that allows me to argue your resignation from MI6. You know that, if you leave without a satisfactory explanation from Central Command, you will become an enemy of the British government. This is a very difficult situation. They will declare you a deserter and pursue you relentlessly. You know very well what you are exposing yourself to.

Stan ran his hand through his blond hair, which was standing up on the top of his head, and frowned. He knew that from the moment he started the mission to pursue the Al Qaeda cell in Spain, the terrorists would hunt him down. He could not afford to have the MI6 of the United Kingdom as his enemy, he also understood that the Spanish agents would also pursue him. He could not face the most dangerous terrorist group in the world and the nation with the most efficient intelligence service, Great Britain. Now he caressed his chin and noticed that he had not shaved for a few days, his red beard had begun to cover his face.

You’re my friend, Dwight, he said, staring at Director Brown, and I’m here for your help to find a better way out of the agency. I do not want to cause problems. I need you to relieve me of my duties!

Now it was Director Brown who scratched his unkempt scalp.

This damn conversation can cost me my job, Stan! What you are asking of me is not asked of a friend. If I had known you would treat me like this, I would not have authorized a private meeting, he barked.

Stan got up and moved his slim body around. He knew he was abusing his friend, but he had no other choice. Dwight was the only one who could help him get out of the agency without causing a scandal with the security division of the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) of the United Kingdom. A scandal would ruin his plans. He feared the British SIS.

You’re the only person who can help me, he said in a forceful but imploring tone.

You’re crazy Stan!

Stan Cooper went silent. He did not want to upset his boss anymore. He knew he could not leave his office without a solution. He had to play all his cards with Director Brown. One thing he had decided: he would search for his mother’s killers wherever they were, and make them bite the dust.

I was listening to you when you were talking to your fiancée, and she does not know what you’re planning. Don’t you trust your fiancée? I think you’re paranoid. What you intend to do is truly mad.

No one participated in my investigated; I didn’t inform anyone. I didn’t even let you know. She will only know specific details, but only if it doesn’t put her life in danger. I do not want to see her involved in this matter. I’ve lost my mother, and I do not want to lose Paloma.

She is your fiancée. You owe her loyalty. But I see that the path you have taken does not take into account loyalty.

Stan Cooper moved uncomfortably.

It’s not like that, Dwight. I didn’t inform you because I didn’t want to involve you in a personal matter that could affect your work. You know that you are my friend and that I do not have secrets with you.

You have no secrets... with me... you do not have... he murmured shaking his head negatively.

No, I don’t! he exclaimed, raising his voice.

You should have informed me that you were conducting an investigation outside the agency. You have abused the trust we have placed in you. What we should do is arrest you and proceed to conduct an investigation of all your actions since you entered the agency. I do not know what to think of you.

I have been loyal to MI6 and your leadership. In my service record, there is no act contrary to my duties. You know you can trust me. I could not get you involved! I could not hurt my best friend in the agency!

What you are asking, I cannot grant. Stan, you’re in enormous trouble.

5

I n the basement of a mansion, nestled in a forest area on the outskirts of Toledo, two scientists were preparing a powerful bomb. For many years they had worked to create a substance that has the destructive capacity of an atomic bomb, but that did not produce radiation.

The mansion, with a kind of summer house look, was located in the center of a forest area, protected by an electrified gate, and was lost within the country landscape. Guards, heavily armed, guarded the property. The basement (eight levels) was a sophisticated laboratory and an impenetrable Bunker of the organization.

Ahmed, this is a memorable day, said the younger man, smiling with satisfaction.

Our brothers in the faith will have at their disposal the most powerful weapon, which will allow them to establish the kingdom of Allah in the whole world. Pablo, it’s a great day, he answered.

Ahmed Maluf, 1.7 meters tall and forty-nine years old. Lebanese parents and militant Islamists. He had achieved a Ph.D. in Nuclear Physics and worked for five years in the European Organization for Nuclear Research, CERN, based in Geneva, Switzerland. He had a burn on the right side of his face up to his right ear. He had been a research assistant for Pablo Tactuk at CERN. A bountiful beard hid the facial burn. He always had a nervous cough.

Pablo Tactuk, a tall man, despite being only fifty-five years old, completely gray hair. Doctorate in Physicochemistry and with a reputation as a great scientist. His parents had come from Palestine to Spain and had been educated, within his family, by the Mohammedan teachings. He had a husky and incomprehensible voice, because of a defect in his throat.

The two scientists had resigned from CERN and were busy producing explosives for the Islamic sects. They were working out of a basement, in the office of Pablo Tactuk.

The world will change forever after knowing that we have this powerful weapon, said Ahmed Maluf while patting his partner on the back, congratulating him.

The world will be amazed to see what we have achieved. Without using depleted U238 uranium, and without making it into an enriched state of U235, we can produce an explosion with the same capacity as an atomic bomb. We don’t even need the isotope 235 of uranium, nor plutonium 239. Allah will reign over the infidels, he said with an exaggerated academic voice.

Only the invention of dynamite is superior to what we have achieved. We will never need to use the type of explosive we used in Atocha station ever again.

The two men merged into a big hug. They celebrated the most significant discovery of their lives.

6

P aloma’s pink BlackBerry emitted an insistent beep; but she had fallen asleep when she threw herself on the bed, stunned by the news her fiancée had given her. She waited a long time for Stan’s call, but nothing happened. The anguish caused by the short call from her fiancée informing her that he would not arrive in Madrid, as planned, to arrange the date for their marriage at the Church, had knocked her out. Her body could not resist and was overcome by fatigue.

The pink BB kept sounding, and it was in an involuntary movement of Paloma that made her listen between dreams the mobile. She jumped out of bed, remembering that she was waiting for her boyfriend’s call. The time had finally come to find out what was happening to Stan. When she took the phone and looked at the screen, she frowned in disgust. It was not Stan Cooper who called her to tell her what was happening to him, but it was a call from the CNI, where she was the Director of Documentation. At first, she did not want to take the call. She was on vacation and did not want her plans interrupted. She had taken time off to organize her wedding with Stan. But she knew that a call from the National Intelligence Center could not be ignored; they would find her, no matter where she was.

Hello! she said without identifying herself.

Hi, Paloma! the caller immediately identified her by her voice.

Hello Director! she answered, recognizing who was calling.

I need you to come immediately to CNI. We have a problem, and I require your assistance.

Paloma felt disturbed by the order received. All her plans were crumbling. What she had thought was going to be one of her happiest days was turning into a nightmare.

I’m on vacation and preparing to get married. I cannot go to the CNI right now. I’m waiting for a call to go pick-up my fiancée from Barajas. I’m getting married!

Paloma, it’s urgent. I need your presence in at headquarters, immediately, said the director in a military tone.

But, sir...

I am Francisco Camacho, the director of the National Intelligence Center. I’m not asking you for a favor. I’m giving you an order. I need you to come immediately. I’ll wait for you in my office.

Paloma was going to respond, but the director of the CNI had hung up. She was only left with the sound by the pink BB when a call was disconnected.

Now she did not know how to react nor what to do. What she wanted was to wait for Stan’s call to clarify everything concerning his commitment; that was what was most important to her. But the CNI director’s call had been too forceful. She was required to arrive at the facilities of the Spanish secret service as soon as possible. She knew that her work was essential and that she could not make plans outside of the agency. But she was preparing her wedding!

She walked to the dresser and touched up her makeup. She would be ready to go to CNI and then go pick up Stan if he called. She took her purse and felt the weight of the gun she always carried. Although she was not a target of the terrorists and an internal official, she always carried the weapon that Stan had given her. She had been trained by Stan and in the military academy, although she had not heard the firing of a gun in a long time.

She was deep in thought. She should call Stan to let him know about her boss’s call. She took the pink BB and called Stan. She only received a response from the answering machine informing her that the number she had called was not in service. Now she was more worried. She was not in communication with Stan. All she could do was send a text message to him through her BB, and she did just so but didn’t mention her boss’s call.

She looked at the BB screen and decided to call MI6. Someone would have to inform her where her fiancée was. She dialed the number and waited for an answer.

MI6, said a female voice.

I’m Paloma Rosario, Stan Cooper’s fiancée, and I want to talk to him.

Mr. Cooper is not in right now.

Do you know where he is? she asked intrigued.

Mr. Cooper just left with Director Brown, and we do not know where they went.

When Stan returns, tell him that Paloma called him and that she needs to contact him immediately.

I will.

The pink BB went back to a disconcerting silence.

Stan was not in MI6, and nobody knew where he had gone. Now she was even more worried, but she had no choice but to go to the building where the CNI offices were.

She walked thoughtfully to her car, a blue Ford Explorer, parked a few meters from her apartment. She sat in front of the steering wheel and looked out at the vast Madrid sky. She started the car and got going. While she was traveling down Narvaez Street, she stopped at the intersection with Doctor Castelo Street; a motorbike abruptly appeared in front of her. On the motorcycle where two men with helmets covering their entire faces. She saw the man on the back of the bike pull out a pistol and point it at her. Her instinctive reflex was to duck under the wheel. The man fired repeatedly. The shots hit the car body and the seat, a few centimeters from her. Paloma’s car braked and went crashing into a tree. Twisted on the floor of her car, she tried to exit through the front right door. It was the only opportunity she had to get out alive. Not hearing the roar of the two-wheeled machine, she thought that the men on the motorcycle had left. When she started to get out, she noticed that the bike was returning. The killers were coming back to finish her off. She got out of the car and took cover behind the body of the Ford. She pulled the gun out of her purse and fired. The two men on the motorcycle turned around and disappeared at full speed.

The pink BB began to sound. She looked for it in her wallet and saw that it was from the CNI.

We’re waiting for you, said the director.

I have been shot at! she said frantically.

Are you hurt?

No. I’m not hurt.

Her voice sank. She was entering a state of nervous breakdown.

Where are you? asked Francisco Camacho, from the CNI.

I’m on the corner of Narváez and Doctor Castelo. In Salamanca.

Do not move from there, or call the police, the CNI director ordered imperatively.

What!?

Don’t call the police until we arrive. Do not talk to the police or the Civil Guard, before we come.

The pink BB trembled in her ear. She did not know what she had gotten herself into.

But, they shot me. I have to inform the police.

That’s an order, Paloma. Not a word before we arrive, he agitatedly ordered.

The cell phone went back to silence. Her hands were trembling. The gun had returned to her purse. A police car came around and checked her crashed car. She had moved away from the blue Ford Explorer. She did not understand what was happening. First, her fiancée canceled their wedding, and now a group of assassins were shooting at her. She didn’t know who her enemies were? Why she was shot at? Who wanted to kill her? Her life was turning into a nightmare.

She was still trembling, but she had to wait for the CNI to know what was going on. She was sure of one thing: her life was in danger.

7

S tan’s car was speeding down the road recklessly. The salt on the road did not produce the desired effect on the ice. They were on their way to the house of an old MI6 agent, where plans had been made to go to Spain to face the terrorists. Director Brown’s face reflected great disappointment. Hardly a few minutes had gone past since Stan had informed him that not only would he leave the agency if he did not get permission, but another agent would go with him. Everything indicated that a conspiracy had been forged against his authority and the agency. The rural landscape, covered with snow, looked like a white blanket that took life from nature.

You should not have done this to me, Stan. What you have done is to put my authority in question. How will I answer my superiors when they find out what is happening in MI6?

Director Brown had privately worked out a plan to prove to Stan that his authority is not one to be mocked. He had gone too far and would prove to him why he is the head of MI6.

You’re not guilty of anything. Everything we have done is on us. I must confess that, a few months ago, we thought you caught us, but nothing happened and we were able to continue with our investigation. I never thought we would get to this far without being discovered by internal moles.

Stan smiled a satisfied smile, which Dwight Brown received as a slap on the face. But he held back because he needed to know all the information his agents had. He was trained to get results, not to act on impulse.

Who is with you in this venture, Stan? he asked candidly, but with his reason kept quiet.

Peter Hamilton will accompany me to Spain because he speaks Spanish just like me. He is my best friend and has committed himself to my cause and the cause of Spain against terrorism. Dr. Jean Bouillet has been helping us. You know him because he worked in the agency as a specialist in counter-terrorism. The doctor has been very useful in unraveling terrorist documents and arriving at verifiable hypotheses. He is a real genius in matters of terrorism.

Peter?! he asked astonished. He was an agent of his closest circles.

Yes, Peter, he confirmed in an immodest tone.

But, right now Peter has on special assignment. He cannot abandon his mission. He knows that deserting a mission can cost him many years in prison.

Dwight Brown scratched his chin. Stan had mined his territory. He felt like a fool, being laughed at his face.

He isn’t abandoning it. Merely delaying it a bit. He joined because he knows that his assistance is needed so that we can be successful. At first, the plan was that, in a few days, Peter would request leave after me.

A man at the age of Dr. Jean Bouillet cannot get involved in this venture. That man has long been removed from service. He is an old man! I thought he was dead. You are crazy! agitatedly exclaiming.

Stan had reduced the speed of the car and went down a street lined with large trees with snowflakes on its branches. They were approaching their destination, which was the home of Dr. Bouillet.

"Dr. Bouillet was my professor at the University of Cambridge, and I asked him for help. At first, he did not want to, but then he accepted. Age has affected him, especially in movement; but his mind continues with the same brilliance as ever. His contribution has been phenomenal.

Dwight Brown expelled the air he had in his robust lungs, seeking to alleviate the pressure he felt. He did not know if he was walking into a trap or was in the middle of a damn nightmare.

If the directors find out that two agents of the agency have carried out an investigation without the knowledge of headquarters, I am going to get into big trouble, he lamented. This cannot be happening to me!

Director Brown felt like a massive wall had fallen on him. The great agent of MI6 had turned him into an idiot. His blood was boiling.

That’s why we’re going to Dr. Bouillet’s house. We want the agency to have no problems with the work we are going to do. We all care about the agency and trust you, Director Brown.

What a way to trust ...! he said.

Stan knew what he was up against. He had to come up with the perfect plan to evade Brown’s wrath. If he could not convince the boss of MI6, all his plans would fail. Everything would depend on the conversation they would have at Dr. Bouillet’s house.

It was the only way to continue with the investigation. If we did it through the agency, they would not have approved it; they would have informed the Spanish authorities, that’s what we didn’t want from the beginning. One of the things we have done is create a program that disconnects phones so that no one can listen in. We know that our calls are bugged and that you have control over that. If they call me right now, my phone doesn’t take the call; it doesn’t have an open signal. Every time I leave the building I have done this, just in case I get a reckless call from Peter. We have developed techniques that prevent people from listening to our calls. We are casing the most dangerous terrorists in history, and we must be cautious. We have developed a system with the BlackBerry, using multiple programmed frequencies, nobody can understand the conversation. All they can understand are vowels.

Director Brown ran his big hands over his face, which despite the cold had a film of sweat. He did not know what Stan had found out or what type of terrorists they were facing. From what was said, it did not seem to be Al Qaeda. He could not understand how they had been able to develop a planned investigation under his nose, without him finding out.

When we get to Dr. Bouillet’s, we’ll clear things up. I will not allow you to take a single step out of London without me having all the information. Not only concerning the investigation you have done, but also the methods you have developed. We are friends, but this is a matter of State, and I will not allow you to compromise the British government, he said in a forceful tone that Stan took as threatening. I want the whole truth because otherwise, I will make a record against you and you will be charged with high treason.

That is what this meeting is for, Director Brown.

He tried to calm the director down because his face was red with rage. He would not be able to convince him or lead him to reason while angry. He needed to get him to calm down.

If I do not agree, I will issue an arrest warrant against you. You have gone against the Secret Intelligence Service of the United Kingdom, and that is big. I think you have crossed a line that should never be crossed, he said.

Although he was holding the wheel, Stan looked at Dwight Brown and realized that he had to speak very openly and bluntly, so as not to face his worst nightmare. He knew how the agency acted when an agent was declared untrustworthy, or worse when he considered a deserter and charged with treason. He would wait to get to the house of Dr. Jean Bouillet to discuss the subject in depth. He did not want to say something that would contradict with his companions who were waiting for them; that would be misfortunate. He had not anticipated such an adverse reaction from Director Brown. The plan could fail, and Spain would suffer the worst terrorist attack in history. The attacks on the twin towers in New York, on September 11, would be a child’s game, with what awaited them in the homeland of Cervantes.

8

S tan’s car stopped in the parking lot of Dr. Jean Bouillet’s house, which was in a secluded spot outside of London. A man was watching the perimeter of the property. The house, of state-of-the-art design, with sloping roofs and painted with tropical colors, seemed strange in a forest landscape, whoever designed it had a postmodernist mentality. When Stan and Dwight approached the door of the house to announce their arrival, they observed as Peter Hamilton opened the door and invited them to come in. Director Brown frowned, annoyed to see the person who was receiving him. He had thought that Peter Hamilton was another guest.

Hello, Director Brown! Peter greeted, opening the way for him to enter the residence. Are you ok?

The head of MI6 made a gesture of disappointment.

I’m not sure if I’m ok. From what Stan told me, none of us can say that we are ok.

Come on boss. It’s not that bad. You know that these are everyday matters in the agency. Those are risks of the trade. I think Stan did not explain it well. I’m sure you’ll change your mind after hearing everything. Just give it a few minutes, and you’ll see.

Director Brown grumbled and walked to the large reception room, which was dominated by a panoramic staircase. It was exquisitely furnished and painted in ivory. It was a two-story house.

I have not explained everything to the Director. I wanted to do it together. I did not want him to see it as a whimsical idea of mine, but a matter well-thought-out by all. I didn’t think he would believe me if I had explained it all to him.

Peter, Stan told me you intend to resign from the agency, Brown said, depositing his enormous body in a comfortable padded couch.

Peter had an expression of astonishment on his face, because of what Brown said.

I’ve never thought about quitting MI6. Working for the agency and you is a great honor. I was just going to be absent a few days, obviously with your permission, boss. Working for MI6 is the dream of every secret agent who appreciates his trade. Not even the CIA is more prestigious.

You know that being absent, to execute what you have thought-out is an act of desertion from the agency, which carries many years in prison. I think you have been playing with fire and are about to get burnt, he said in a sour tone.

Director Brown, Stan said, do not draw premature conclusions. Wait for us to explain what we have investigated and what we are going to do. After you hear all the details, I’m sure you’ll change your mind and approve the plan.

That seems unlikely, but I’ll listen. In any case, you’re rebelling and in huge trouble. The Secret Intelligence Service of the United Kingdom is not one to be mocked. You have been behaving as if you were newbies. You are not the agents I’ve known for so many years.

The two agents made a brief silence. They could not continue to agitate their boss without explaining the details of the plan first. He spoke out of the embarrassment he felt. They needed to understand that.

Peter and Stan looked at each other with some confusion, because of the words of the MI6 director. They would have to be very careful if they wanted to get this right. The situation had worsened within minutes.

Director Brown, you do not have to scold Agent Cooper or Agent Hamilton. They are doing a great service for Spain and the United Kingdom, someone said from behind.

Everyone turned to see that Dr. Jean Bouillet had been watching them. He had arrived in the company of a nurse who was assisting him to walk.

I hope you have a convincing explanation, replied Brown. I didn’t expect from you the madness that these young people want to commit.

Dr. Jean Bouillet was a small man, over eighty years old with gray hair, but not bald. He wore large glasses framed in black. He walked slowly and had a tremor in his hands. His blue eyes, with tired eyelids, seemed to caress what they observed. Even though tired by the years, his body seemed steady. He wore a dark gray suit and a thick black scarf. He was of French origin, but all his life he had spent working in England, between MI6 and the University of Cambridge.

The heater produced a pleasant temperature inside the house. They could take off their coats.

Dr. Bouillet walked to a special chair he had in the middle of the furniture set and sat down. He did not want the help of anyone other than his nurse, whom he ordered to leave him alone with the visitors. It was an armchair of brown leather, that when leaning raised a platform for his legs. When he settled, he seemed more lying than sitting.

The time has come to inform Director Brown of what have discovered and our plans, said Stan, settling into a nearby chair.

Stan and Peter were waiting for Dr. Bouillet to start the story.

We do not want you to judge us before hearing what we have to say, boss, Peter commented as if he wanted to finish the idea of his friend, Stan. We do not want to cause problems for the agency or you.

Peter, of average size for an Englishman, but taller than a Spaniard, had slightly combed blond hair. His face was freckled and very white. He wore a checkered colored American shirt and jeans.

Director Brown settled into his chair as if he were about to listen to a long symphony orchestra. They would have to speak openly to convince him not to order the arrest warrant he had in mind.

9

"I told Director Brown the reasons why I started the investigation, which was to find the real culprits of my mother’s death. What I haven’t told him yet is, that while looking for my mother murderers, we discovered, by chance, a criminal network that can cause a lot of damage to humanity," Stan said when he saw that Dr. Bouillet was about to speak without knowing what he had previously mentioned to Brown.

Dr. Bouillet paused to let Stan start the conversation. Then he intervened.

Director Brown, what Stan said is the reason why the investigation began. At first, I didn’t want to get involved in the matter. All Stan wanted to do was avenge his mother’s death. Although I think it’s only fair to get revenge, I was not interested in getting involved. I’m too old and tired to get into young people’s business. I’m too old even to take revenge for a mosquito bite, he said in a low and slow voice.

What changed your mind? asked Director Brown.

The host took a few seconds to answer. The words seemed to weigh him down.

If you have a little patience you will know the whole story, details and all, he said while gesturing with his hands. Stan continued alone, investigating between terrorist documents and data that he had collected from all over the world, but focusing on Spain. He came to my house a few times, but I didn’t want to get involved. It seemed to me that he was being stubborn, even fanatic, which would affect his judgment in making a correct analysis of what he was looking for. The death of his mother affected him a lot. One afternoon the two of them appeared, Stan and Peter, here at my home, and they asked me to listen to them, just for one last time. Because of the experience I had accumulated during so many years in the service, they wanted my opinion. They said they had something huge, and that it was important that I listen to them. Stan had convinced Peter that he had found something significant. When Peter informed me that it was not a matter of avenging the death of Stan’s mother, but that it was the discovery of the most fearsome terrorist organization of all time, it peaked my interest. That is when they came to see me. I only listened to them out of courtesy. I had no interest in their story. When they finished explaining it to me, I was convinced that it was something massive and that I should help them. From that moment we set up a team to investigate and act. I could not do otherwise. Despite being old, I’m still an agent in the service of Her Majesty.

What did they say, Dr. Bouillet? Dwight asked. I still do not understand what changed your mind.

Dr. Bouillet will explain everything to you. We want you to be aware of everything that has happened up until this moment, but we need you to be patient, just a little longer, please Director Brown, Stan said, putting his hand on the MI6 director’s shoulder. We do not want to waste your time, or ours.

The story isn’t that long, Peter pointed out. "The