Dan Wheatcroft - The Summer of 75

The Summer of 75

Dan Wheatcroft

Copyright 2021 by Dan Wheatcroft

The right of Dan Wheatcroft to be

identified as the author of this work

has been asserted in accordance with

the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not

be reproduced or used in any manner

whatsoever without the express written

permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents are either the products of

the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, businesses, companies, events,

or locales is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements:

Fabiana: As always, for her advice and love.

Cover: betibup33

NOTES

B MH British Military Hospital

CD Corps Diplomatique

Century House HQ of SIS (MI6) - 1964 to1994

DG Director-General.

Clocking noticing

DDR Deutsche Demokratische Republik.

Frikadelle Flat, pan-fried meatballs of minced meat.

FO Foreign Office

HVA - Hauptverwaltung Aufklrung. DDR foreign intelligence

Mit mayo - with mayonnaise.

Pommes pommes frites (chipped potatoes).

Sangar - protected structure used for observing or firing from.

Schaschlik Skewered grilled cubes of meat.

Schupo Schutzpolizei Uniformed general patrol police.

Security S ervice MI5

Silber Silver.

SIS Secret Intelligence Service (MI6).

Stasi Staatssicherheitsdienst (State Security Service).

Streng geheim Top secret.

Toff British for a posh person.

Chapter 1

C ornflakes eaten, he put the bowl in the sink and headed for the shower; an appointment with soap on a rope. Towel, hairdryer and a dab of Pierre Cardin then he brushed his unruly mop of hair back into some semblance of order that wouldnt irritate the Old Man and selected the days apparel: bootcut casual pants with a nondescript blue shirt topped off with his new black, mid-thigh, Italian leather jacket; double-breasted in a pea coat style. Clare had thought it looked good so hed bought another in a sort of dark tan colour. A much-loved pair of elastic-sided brown ankle boots finished it off.

Outside, he settled himself into the recently assigned vehicle. When theyd told him they were replacing the Austin Cambridge, hed been hopeful of receiving a Ford Capri but the Old Man thought it too racy, attracting unwanted attention, so they gave him the Hillman Hunter. Even the colour was deliberately unexciting; a sort of pale grey-green that otherwise defied description. On the good side, it was solid, reliable and came with a decent radio but it was never a bird puller so it was just as well he was with Clare now.

He climbed the stairs to the door marked Statistics Office, greeted Ralph and Winston, signed in, made himself a cup of tea and sat at his desk. The now almost threadbare nodding dachshund bid him welcome in response to the tap on its head.

Morning, Gally. It was Clive with a sheaf of papers which he dropped on a desk.

Gallagher returned the salutation, then, You still doing that site visit?

Clive nodded, Yes, why do you ask?

Well, I thought youd be looking more casual than that. Are you sure platform shoes are appropriate?

Clive glanced down. Theyre comfortable and theyre not my best pair. Why dont you try some out, Gally? Im sure youd like them. Theyre all the rage these days.

Gally smiled. Two reasons, Clive old boy. I dont need the extra height like you do and Im a martyr to vertigo. I inherited it from my dad. Its what killed him.

Clive feigned a shocked face. Liar! You told me a big crate fell on him.

Gally sipped his tea. A big crate fell on him, Clive, because if it hadnt been for his vertigo hed have been in the back of the truck unloading it onto someone else.

Winston answered the phone, a few mumbled words and he replaced the handset catching Gallaghers eye and nodding in the direction of the doorway.

You wanted to see me, Sir?

Yes, Come in and take a seat, Gallagher. Where have you parked your motorcycle?

Motorcycle, Sir? I havent got a ... Oh, I see what youve done. Its my jacket, isnt it? Only, I told Clive Id go with him on a site visit and this seems more appropriate than a suit.

Very good of you to volunteer yourself but youre going somewhere else today.

Gally took a seat.

His companion glared at him. Well, close the door, man!

Sorry, Sir. I didnt realise it was going to be one of those conversations.

The Old Man looked back down at the file on his desk. Gally returned and sat silently expecting something to happen soon. It didnt. Eventually, he felt the need to make conversation, more to remind the other person in the room that he was still there than anything else.

Im sorry Ralphs leaving us, Sir. Hes a good sort.

The Old Man glanced up. Yes, the Treasury.

Has he always had aspirations in that direction, Sir? He never mentioned anything before.

Still reading: It was a matter of need, Gallagher. Thankfully, he took up the challenge. Hes always had a wonderful ability to obfuscate.

He looked up before continuing. Dont get me wrong, Winstons no slouch in that area but it needs an older man in order to seamlessly fit in. Our current chap there is due to retire. Were keeping him on a retainer as a consultant so you might encounter him from time to time. He closed the file and leaned back in his chair.

Our life here is really quite simple, yet somewhat complicated. Its best illustrated by my saying - all in the world of intelligence is compartmentalised. That simply means - if people dont need to know then they dont know. Even some people who should need to know dont get to because its expedient that they shouldnt. Our little department takes advantage of that, Gallagher. But ... sometimes its not always an obvious advantage.

Gally felt he was supposed to understand where this was leading so rearranged his facial features in an attempt to convey a comprehension he didnt possess.

Im sending you on an important errand. Before he could finish, Gally had offered, Your dry cleaning again, Sir?

The Old Man sighed. Shut up, Gallagher, and listen! Im sending you on an important errand and I think I should tell you the two things that have brought this about. Our funding is being cut. The Treasury have taken it upon themselves to do a bit of cost-cutting and have decided that we dont need the budget we were given to produce our statistics. He took off his glasses and waved them about.

Thankfully, our extra activities are covered by the quiet harvesting of several incidental expenses in the Treasurys vast accounting system; the beverage and biscuit fund to name but one. Quite a considerable amount of money is seemingly spent each year on these simple delights but the unions are hugely defensive about their members perks and disaster looms for he or she that delves too deep into that one. However, we have to lose Ralph as a result. The good news is that weve been able to slot him in to replace our man at the Treasury. A little trick we learned from the CIA many years ago, placing our own people in select positions. He saw Gallys enquiring look.