Planning Political Asylum
Chapter 23
Planning Political Asylum
My information about the British embassy staff car scam had gone down well. So, I was encouraged to get to the Labadi beach club more often and mix freely, which I did. I had to be seen keeping up my espionage to my host’s satisfaction. In fact, I was now at the club four days a week. It was a time of freedom. I knew there were no listening devices there, and it was an excellent place to meet ‘normal’ people and keep fit.
A man approached the table where I was nursing a cool Club beer. I smiled at him and he drew back a chair.
‘Hi, I’m Ralph. Ralph Owens and you?’
‘’I’m Ewan Shankland. Been here long?’ I asked—the usual question.
‘Coming up two years,’ he said. I knew he was trying to identify me.
‘So where do you earn your cedis?’ I asked, smiling.
‘British High Commission.’
I had to think quickly, take a chance? Now or never—time was running out. My palms were sweating and I felt a panic in my heart. My plan was materialising right before my eyes. ‘So where are you on the ladder of progress?’ I asked to see where he stood in the ranks.
‘Second Secretary. Two off the top but I hope to make progress as long as I don’t blot my copybook,’ he laughed and clicked his fingers at a passing waiter. A Guinness was ordered.
‘And you? Let me guess. Banker?’
‘No, you’d never guess.’
‘Okay, then I won’t try.’
I took a deep breath.
‘I’m a Soviet agent, wanting to defect.’
Ralph laughed loudly—till he saw my sad expression.
A silence grew. His Guinness arrived. He put his lips to the glass and his eyes focused on mine.
‘But you are Scottish aren’t you?’
I nodded. ‘Would it be possible to speak to your ambassador?’
He held his glass in both hands. ‘Maybe.’ His face turned serious. ‘It depends how much you can tell me here and now.’
I asked if he had an hour to spare so my story could be laid bare.
‘I’ve all afternoon, and it looks like overtime for me,’ he said rubbing his hands together.
So I told him how I fell into the clutches of the Soviets, and how the chocolate’s I delivered in Sandema killed a traitor to their cause and four African children. I also warned him that the Russians knew about how the diplomatic car scheme was being exploited by his own staff. He took considerable interest in that.
‘Tell me again, how did you find that out?’
And I told him. He could see the honesty in my eyes as I began to reveal myself. It made him uncomfortable. He shifted from one buttock to the other. I could see he was ill at ease.
‘So it’s all about choosing the correct timing. I want my fiancée back in the UK before I make my move,’ I told him.
‘When is she leaving?’
‘Next Friday.’
‘So you are looking for political asylum?’
‘Exactly and I’ll spill the beans on the Russians in Ghana and London too,’ I said making an offer he could not refuse.
‘What time is her flight?’
‘It’s a midday flight to London, then a hop up to Glasgow.’
‘I see. Could you be at the British Embassy by 1:30 pm after she has flown?’
|
