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"Sir, something doesn't add up," he said. Belanger looked at him over half-moon glasses.
"It all seems reasonable to me," he said and tapped his pipe. "Maybe we underestimated Clifton."
“Balderdash!" Fardy-Russell said. " Sorry sir," Belanger nodded to show his apology had been accepted. "It's just that no one overpowers Henshall-Jones and I can tell he's hiding something.”
“Think very carefully about what you are saying Mr Fardy-Russell. You are accusing our top spy-catcher of helping a known spy to escape. That implies an awful lot of things.” Belanger put his pipe between his lips but didn't light it. "Do you have any proof?"
“There're no justs, bring me proof and I'll act but I'm not chasing after MI5's finest on a gut feeling. Now if that's all.”
Fardy-Russell shook his head, and stared at Belanger lighting his pipe, everyone knew when the boss lit the tobacco, it was time to go. He wanted to say something but he’d outstayed his welcome already and was in danger of incurring the wrath of his boss. He turned on his heel and headed for the door.
Why had Belanger been so dismissive? Was he in on this too? Was he part of it? If indeed there was an it to be part of and not just a figment of his imagination. Bring me proof he'd said, that was permission to investigate. Fardy-Russell would get to the bottom of this and he'd start with Clifton’s desk.
“What on earth are you doing?” Fardy-Russell barked at Henshall-Jones when he saw him clearing Clifton's desk. “Aren't you meant to be at the debrief with Belanger.”
Henshall-Jones ignored the younger man.
"I said what are you doing?" Fardy-Russell put an arm on H-J's shoulder and pulled him around to face him.
The two men stood toe to toe again.
“MI5 work, I’m trying to catch a spy.”
“One that you let go?”
“What are you saying?” Henshall-Jones roared.
Fardy-Russell wiped spittle off his face.
“I'm not saying anything, but I am thinking a lot of things,” he was angry, he knew H-J had every right in the world to be clearing Clifton's desk and was annoyed at himself for not getting there first.
“You better stop thinking things, young man.” Henshall-Jones hissed. "Thinking is dangerous in this business."
“I’m not scared of you,” Fardy-Russell said. He wanted to punch the smirk of the bastard's face.