suited me; the more we hear, up and down these bleak green-painted corridors, the more we become involved, the more we become exposed. We don't want that to happen. The Bureau doesn't exist, so we don't exist either, if we're wise. It's less painful like that, and infinitely less dangerous. It was nearly nine in the evening before Tilson came and got me out of Monitoring, where I'd been passing the time listening to a lot of flak from one of our cells in Africa which was trying to pull itself out of the general bush fire that had gone up after the Kibombo massacre. 'Talk to you,' Tilson asked from the doorway, 'for a jiff?' It was terribly low key, and I started worrying again. He took me along the corridor, with our footsteps echoing from the high arched ceiling; there's still no carpeting in this bloody place: they say the parquet's got woodworm in it and they have to keep a watch on it. 'We've got Mr Croder for you,' Tilson told me and hustled me into Signals. From that moment I began going cold. We can always refuse a mission and we don't have to give our reasons; some of the operations look strictly shut-ended during the planning stage and we reserve the right to go on living if we think the risk is too high. But we can't refuse to listen to a director if he's got something for us to do, and sometimes he'll prick our conscience or our pride and lever us into a tricky one before we know what's happening. My nerves were still out of condition from the last operation, although you'd think we'd get over it, one day, and learn to live with it; maybe some of them have, but I haven't yet, and it's getting late. There were only four people manning the room tonight, two of them handling separate missions at the main console with the code names Flash point and Banjo on the boards above their heads, and two others waiting for us at the unit nearer the door. 'Where is he?' I asked Tilson. 'Mr Croder? He's in Geneva.' 'He was flying from Rome, the last -' 'Never mind,' Tilson said amiably, and looked at the big international clock. 'He's coming through on the hour,' one of the operators said, 'using the booster at Lausanne. Would you like to sit down?' 'No.' They waited quietly with their hands on their laps and the light of the panel on their faces. I'll need a shield, a sharp voice came from the main console, but you'll have to hurry. It sounded like Symes, but I didn't think they'd use him for an Asian job; both missions were designated Far East alongside the code names and he was a Latin-country specialist, you could smell the garlic the minute he came in for debriefing. The operator flicked the switch for direct contact with the base director and started talking, but I didn't hear the rest because a light started winking on our unit and the man with the chewing-gum opened the signal and set to scramble and clarify. 'A-Alpha. Channel 3. Clarifying.' We waited. The light went on winking. 'Croder.' There was a long pause. 'The weather's closing down everywhere, and the London flight was laid off.' His voice was thin and precise, the scrambler giving it a metallic echo. 'Have you brought Quiller in?' 'Yes, sir.' The operator slipped out of the padded chair and motioned me to take it. I sat down. 'This is Quiller.' 'Ah yes.' A couple of seconds went by. 'You were on leave, I understand.' 'I still am.' There was a much longer pause. 'Yes. I am on leave too. But I want you to listen very carefully. I don't think I can reach London with any immediate predictability, since a lot of flights are either being cancelled or diverted. But I can reach Berlin before midnight, according to current reports. I would like you to meet me there, as soon as you can get a plane.' In a moment I said: 'Look, I'm still on leave and I need to relax. It's too soon.' I felt Tilson move an inch, beside me. 'I understand that,' the thin, precise voice came from the speaker. 'But something rather exceptional has happened, and we've got to deal with it as soon as we can. Or if you prefer, I've got to deal with it. I was rather hoping you'd agree to help me, but - what can I say? You are on leave.'