Free Distant Annihilation. (Tarquin Collingwood Adventures Book 1) by Azam Hossain

leave no doubt as to its veracity; whilst simultaneously, we hope, not alerting foreign governments or indeed anybody else of our suspicions. Not even the British Prime Minister knows what I am about to divulge, although he will learn of it at his next weekly security briefing. This is all TOP SECRET Tarquin,” he concluded as if to emphasise his point.
    “You needn’t worry Guy, I’ve dealt with confidential material in the army,” I explained.
    Guy nodded and seemingly reassured resumed, “The intelligence leads to the conclusion that the Persians have decided to ensure that no nuclear weapons will be found or detected by IAEA inspectors in Persia. But that does not mean they will not have such weapons or the ability to use them.”
    “How is this possible?” asked Ollie who was clearly as much in the dark as I.
    “Most likely they will desist from the development of any fissile material – unless it’s very well concealed in their own country.....”
    Good Lord I thought, thinking I could see where this was leading.
    “.....or alternatively, as our intelligence leads us to conclude, the Persians have decided to use intermediaries to develop and install a crude nuclear device and launch capability outside Persia. This way they can purport to show clean hands to the outside world whilst plausibly denying any involvement. And if, God forbid such a weapon should ever be used on Tehran’s instructions, any retaliation would be directed not at them, but at the unwitting host country from where the missiles were fired.”
    “And I suppose the innocent dupe for all this is poor old Azakistan?” I said wearily as I felt my innards sink on hearing the news of this outrageous Persian perfidy.
    Guy replied that Azakistan was perfect for the role which Persia had assigned it. It was a neighbouring country, poor, corrupt and lawless, contained an insurgency which could be manipulated, terrain that was amenable to concealment and a porous border.
    A lamb to the slaughter by another name I reflected.
     
    “But this is appalling! What can we do to stop this?” said Ollie rather alarmed.
    “Try not to get too excited, it never does any good,” counselled Guy paternally, “There are three ways of approaching this. Do nothing. Do something officially, alone or with other countries. Or do something secretly, unofficially – covert operations, that sort of thing.”
    “It seems to me doing nothing, is not an option,” I began, “Acting with other nations would be too convoluted, laborious and give the Persians plenty of time to take evasive action.”
    “Quite so......... that leaves the last option,” concluded Guy.
    “What do you have in mind?” I asked intrigued.
    “We need our own man in Azakistan with the right attributes: perceptive, patriotic, military background, knowledge of espionage and intelligence, knows how to handle himself and loyal to Queen and Country.”
    “But where do we find such a man? Is there such a man?” asked Ollie breathlessly. I was thinking just the same thing.
    Guy turned away from Ollie and looked towards me inscrutably and then simply said, “I don’t suppose you’re game, are you Tarquin?”
    “Me?” I said astounded, nearly jumping out of my seat, nonplussed by the invitation.
    “You fit the bill Tarquin. You have all the attributes I ’ve just described,” Guy said in a matter of fact sort of way, “We need to act quickly and you’re already apprised of the situation. You could be there tomorrow! You were sporting enough to come out to Moscow –if Moscow why not Azakistan?”
    I had expected to be in Moscow for a few days before returning to England, and now to my consternation I was being prevailed upon to go to Azakistan , a country which made Russia look positively civilised by comparison.
    “Damn it Guy, I’m only here to get Andrew’s killers!” I pleaded.
    “In that case Azakistan is the place to be - Zhukov goes there in a few days time with his