Hendrikus smiled that weary smile that had broken so many hearts in Blighty

He had always known that his information was good. It had cost him terrible pain to get it. The sleepless nights. The constant lies, living on the edge of discovery and torture at any moment. The double-crosses, the delicate negotiations. But he had come up with the goods; he always did. He was the Master.

And then what had happened? At huge personal risk he had passed the information on, encrypting it, writing it backwards on a roll of rice paper and inserting it into the rectum of a carrier pigeon. And what had those idiots in HQ done?

They had ignored him. They had laughed at his sources, dismissed the gen as nonsense. Blithely they had carried on making their stupid jokes and living their stupid lives, proceeding with the wrong tactics for the wrong reasons. When all along they had had in their hands the truth ... if only they had known ...

How many more times? thought Hendrikus in sudden rage, the knuckles of his manly hands whitening as he gripped the bone handle of his service revolver in fury. How many more times can I face this? Putting my life on the line only for these fools to ignore what I tell them!

And then as quickly as the thought had come it was dismissed. Because Hendrikus knew that he was not doing this for them. He was doing it for dear old Blighty, dear old Norwich, all that he loved and held dear. And he knew that tomorrow, he would glue on the false moustache, summon his courage once more, and go out to see what intelligence he could glean.

He was afraid, of course, he was terribly afraid. There was a new guard now: 6 foot 2 of Nigerian born muscle. He was frightening. But Hendrikus had conquered fear so many time that he knew he could do it again.

And perhaps next time the fools would listen to him ...

Posted By: Old Git, Nov 24, 10:01:40