Free Undercover by Bill James

say who’d be best to deal with them. Personnel selection of a very crucial kind.’
    â€˜I’m here mainly re the women, Tom,’ Rockmain replied. He spoke almost apologetically, as if he thought Tom must have already cottoned on that Rockmain was here mainly re the women and didn’t need to have it blatantly spelled out.
    â€˜Which women?’ Tom said, though, naturally, he could make a guess.
    â€˜Yes, the women,’ Rockmain replied. ‘This can be a troublesome area. No point in denying. Rather, face up to it. Cater for it. That’s happening now, thank God.’
    They queued for food and drink. Lambert settled the whole bill. He said: ‘Tom, your subsistence allowance is related to the time you spend on a duty, not on your actual expenditure, so the fact that I’m seeing to the tab now doesn’t interfere with your right to claim. And, while we’re talking about such arrangements, let me say a bank account with five grand cash available in your operational name will be set up, with cheques and a debit card. Likewise a credit card, limit nine thousand pounds.’
    â€˜Howard will look after you, Tom.’ Now, Rockmain’s tone suggested Howard Lambert would be OK, possibly very OK, on the rudiments, such as canteen nose-bagging, general finance, and manipulation of an expenses sheet, but that he, Rockmain, would presently disclose the core purpose of this meeting.
    Tom took sausages, mash and peas, with a large milk coffee. Lambert had shepherd’s pie and a pot of tea. Rockmain went for the super-mixed-grill and a bottle of fizz-enhanced spring water from a burn in the Scottish highlands, which was pictured on the label. Rockmain led them to a table in the middle of the big room. He had short legs and took short steps, but they were vigorous and confident. Perhaps he thought skulking out on the edge would have been more conspicuous. He must have decided they should blend in. There were occupied tables all round them. He would know more about camouflage than Tom. It was part of his trade. The certainty and swiftness of Rockmain’s choice seemed to confirm he dominated: what should be expected from a Commander.
    Tom felt estranged and deeply different from the customers around them. Their imperative was to enjoy a bite and a swig, then point themselves and their vehicle again at a destination. But for Tom and the other two this was a policy-making centre, a tactics venue, the roads to and from, and the meals, secondary, if that. Now and then tonight Tom wished himself part of one of those groups: eat, drink and get motorwayed. He wasn’t sure he saw himself as a policy maker, nor as a tactics expert.
    Rockmain said: ‘They’ll have told you, Tom, how undercover is organized. You’ll work to a handler and a controller. Howard here is your handler. Above him is the controller. You don’t need to know who that is.’
    â€˜But he knows who
I
am,’ Tom replied.
    â€˜He or she, yes.’
    â€˜I like the wariness in you, Tom,’ Lambert said.
    â€˜Wariness is on the whole an attribute, Howie, an asset,’ Rockmain said. ‘It can become tiresome, though. It can drift into indecisiveness, or sluggishness.’
    â€˜Well, yes, I suppose,’ Lambert said.
    Rockmain carved one of two chops and lifted the chunk to his mouth. Tom wondered how he stayed so skinny, if he always ate like this. Perhaps he didn’t: only when the job was paying. ‘You’ll ask how I come into the proceedings, Tom,’ Rockmain said. ‘Why more fucking psychology? You thought you’d done with all that at Hilston.’ He spoke with terrific clarity, at the same time managing the meat in his mouth with a skill that might be inherited, congenital. ‘And, to some extent, you
have
finished with psychology.’
    â€˜Which means I haven’t, does it?’ Tom said.
    â€˜This is more wariness,’ Lambert stated,