At Risk
Stella Rimington
Language: English
Pages: 384
ISBN: 1400043700
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
An announcement is made at a meeting of the British Intelligence Joint Counter-Terrorist group: “The opposition may be about to deploy an invisible.” An “invisible” is CIA-speak for the ultimate intelligence nightmare: a terrorist who is an ethnic native of the target country and who can therefore cross its borders unchecked, move around the country unquestioned, and go unnoticed while setting up the foundation for monstrous harm.
Intelligence officer Liz Carlyle has had to prove herself in countless ways as she’s come up through the ranks of the traditionally all-male world of Britain’s Security Service, MI5. But this announcement marks the start of an operation that will test all her hard-won knowledge and experience–and her intelligence and courage–as nothing has before. Having analyzed information from her agents, she realizes that there is indeed an imminent terrorist threat. She may even have the invisible’s point of entry. But what she cannot draw out of all the “chatter” is the invisible’s identity and intended target.
With each passing hour, the danger increases. As the desperate hunt continues, it becomes clear that Liz’s intuitive skills, her ability to get deep inside her enemy’s head, are her best hope for tracking down the terrorist. But will that be enough? And can she succeed in time to avert a disaster?
Drawing from her experience as the first woman director general of MI5, Stella Rimington gives us a story that is smart, tautly drawn, and suspenseful from first to last. At Risk is a stunning debut novel that plunges us headlong into today’s shadowy and fever-pitched battle between terrorism and Intelligence.
and colours in the mature borders—all of these brought her deep and lasting pleasure. She worked hard to maintain them, and opened the grounds to the public several times a year. In the early spring, people came from far and wide to enjoy the display of snowdrops and aconites. Perry had brought the house to their marriage, but it was all that he had brought. Born to a local landowning family, Anne had inherited on the grand scale when her parents had died, and had made it her business to keep
enjoy such exchanges. On the far side of the Thames she could see the rain-darkened walls of Lambeth Palace. Did Wetherby know about Mark? Almost certainly. He knew pretty much everything else about her. “I think we finally have a full house,” he murmured, glancing over her shoulder. MI6 were represented by Geoffrey Fane, their coordinator of counter-terrorist operations, and by the newcomer, Bruno Mackay. Hands were shaken and Wetherby moved smartly across the room to close the doors. A
memory of lunch is fading fast.” Why not? thought Liz. He was right; until the French women had been checked there really was nothing they could do. And she really ought to try and unwind a few notches. “OK, then,” she smiled. “Let’s see what Mr. Badger and his catering team can do.” “You’re on. And until then, let’s retire to your boudoir and examine this passenger list.” “Perhaps you should let your little friend Bethany know that we’re eating here.” “Oh, she knows,” murmured Mackay,
asked Bruno Mackay. “Long on bones and short on taste,” said Liz. “A bit like picking cotton wool out of a hairbrush. This wine, on the other hand, is seriously fabulous.” “These out-of-the-way places sometimes do have good things in their cellars,” said Mackay. “No one ever orders them so they lie there for years.” “Just waiting for a discriminating chap like yourself?” said Liz archly. “Basically, yes,” said Mackay. “Ah, here’s Bethany with the tartare sauce.” “Who, like the wine, has been
the police post with the binoculars. She had kept well behind the bankside reeds so that no lens flash would betray her, and blurred images of this foliage and grey curtains of rain hung between her and the checkpoint. Indistinctly, she watched two officers in fluorescent yellow waterproofs checking a car. Several other vehicles were waiting in line, and the officers were moving in the constricted, hunch-shouldered way of men who were not enjoying their job. Three others, more shadowy figures,