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THE ENEMY

Scientists and politicians have a love-hate relationship. Scientists make discoveries and give new knowledge to the world, for the benefit of humankind. Bur knowledge can he bought and sold. Knowledge is power, and politicians use power for their own purposes ... which are not always for the henefit of humankind.

Malcolm J aggard is a spycatcher, and a servant of the politicians. He's hard, tough, and intelligent - and he wants to marry Penny Ashton, a scientist, and the daughter of the scientist George Ashton. Then the Ashrons' comforrahle world is suddenly shattered, and Malcolm is ordered by his politician bosses to protect Ashton. But who is George Ashton? And how do you protect a man who has just disappeared?

Malcolm needs more knowledge, and he can't get it. So he fights for it. But knowledge is power, and servants must not have power. As his search for Ashton turns into a desperate and violent manhunt, Malcolm finds knowledge. But he also finds himself in the long-running war between scientists and politicians - a war that it is safer to keep out of, a war where

'We have met the enemy, and he is us.'

DESMOND BAGLEY

The Enemy

Retold by Ralph Mowat

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

www.irLanguage.com

OXFORD VNIVE&SITY PllES·S

Grrat Clarendon Sttttt. Oxford OX2 6DP Oxford University Press is a department of the University ofOxford. It furthers the University's objective of excellence in research. scholarship. and education by publishing worldwide in Oxford New York Auclcwld �pe Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi New Delhi Shanghai Taipei To.ronto With offices in Argentina Ausnu Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Grttee Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam OXFORD and OXFORD ENGLISH are registered trade marks of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries Original edition C Literary Publications Limited 1977 First published 1977 by William Collins Sons Ir Co Ltd This simplified edition O Oxford University Press 2008 D� right Oxford University Press {maker) First published in Oxford Bookworms 1991 2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1 No a.aautbortzed photocopying All rights reserwd. No part ofthis publication may be reproduced. stored in a retrieval system. or transmitted, in any form or by any means. without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expttsSly permitted by law, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the ELT Rights Department. Oxford University Press. at the address above You must not circulate this book in any other binding or cover and you must im� this same condition on any acquirer Any �bsites referred to in this publication are in the public domain and their addttsses are provided by Oxford University Press for information only. Oxford University Press disclaims any responsibility for the content ISIN 978019479J6o A complete recording of this Bookworms edition of 'IM Entmy is available on audio CD 1s1N 978 o 19 479:l.M 8 Printed in Hong Kong ACICNOWLEDGEWENTS lllustrokd by: Ivan Allen / The lnkshed

Word count (main text): 28,850 words For more information on the Oxford Bookworms Library. visit www.oup.comfelt/bookwonns

An interesting woman

I first met Penelope Ashton at a dinner-party. She was not a beautiful woman, but she was well-dressed, quite pretty and, as I quickly realized, very intelligent. She was a good listener, but did not say much herself. After dinner I managed to spend a lot of time talking to her. I learned that she was a biologist doing research with Professor Lumsden at University College in London. She was an attractive and interesting woman. It was late when the party came to an end and I took her to catch the last train home. 'Which station does your train go from?' I asked. 'Victoria,' she replied. In the taxi on the way to Victoria Station I asked her out to dinner. She was silent for a moment, then said, 'All right. Wednesday evening.' Aher she had hurried off to catch her train, I realized I didn't know if she was married or not. On the following Wednesday I met her at University College at a quarter past seven in the evening. 'Do you always work so late?' I asked. She shook her head. 'Not always. It depends on how my work is going. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later.' We went to the theatre and had dinner afterwards in a restaurant in Soho. For me it was a most enjoyable evening and I think it was for Penelope, too. In the next six weeks we went out together several times

The Enemy

and I realized that Penelope Ashton was becoming a serious part of my life. One evening we had dinner at my flat. I cooked a Chinese meal for her and, when she told me how much she had enjoyed the meat, she also invited me to her home for the weekend. To meet her family.

Marlow is a small town on the River Thames, about an hour's drive from London. The house where Penelope lived with her father and her sister was in the countryside, just a few minutes from the town. It was a large and beautiful house, the kind that you read about in the best magazines. It had a big, well-kept garden, tennis courts and a swimming- pool. Penelope's father, George Ashton, was in his mid-fifties. His wife was dead and he had not married again. He was tall, grey-haired, and very fit, as I discovered when he beat me at tennis. After the game I was tired, but Ashton dived in to the swimming-pool for a swim before going back to the house for a shower. He was twenty-five years older than I was, but I was exhausted from the game of tennis, which I had lost. I sat down beside Penelope. 'Is he ·always like that, always so full of energy?' I asked. 'Always!' she promised. Her sister, Gillian, was not at all like Penelope. She was the kind of woman who likes to stay at home and run the house. It was a large house, with several servants, and she organized it very well. Gillian told the servants what to do, she planned the meals, and seemed to be very happy. It was a friendly family and I soon felt very comfortable

Acid in the eyes

Penelope was very busy the next week. She worked all Friday night and when I met her at the laboratory on Saturday morning, she looked very tired. 'I'm going to have to sleep this afternoon, Malcolm. It won't be much of a weekend for you, I'm afraid. But I'm sure my father will keep you busy. I'm sorry, but I'm just very, very tired.' I was sorry, too, because I was going to ask her to marry me that weekend. However, it wasn't the right moment to put the question, so I asked her what she had been doing all night. 'Oh, we were doing a very difficult experiment, trying to transfer some dangerous genetic material.' 'Is all this useful?' I asked. 'Docs it do any good, or is that a state secret?' 'Oh, no secret, but it's useful, all right. What we're doing is an important part of medical research into cancer,' she replied. Once again I spent an enjoyable weekend with the Ashtons. We swam, we played tennis, we talked. It sounds boring, but it was, for all of us, an important way to relax from the problems of the working week. On Sunday evening Gillian went to church and Penelope, her father and I sat talking in the garden. It was a beautiful summer evening. Suddenly we heard a scream, then another. Ashton said sharply, 'What the devil was that?' and we all

Acid in the eyes i r Language.com

jumped to our feet just as Gillian came round the corner of the house, holding her hands to her face. She screamed again, and fell to the grass. Ashton was the first to reach her. He tried to pull her hands from her face, but she resisted him with all her strength. Penelope bent over Gillian, who was now lying on the grass. The screams had stopped and a faint voice murmured, 'My eyes! Oh my eyes!, Penny put her finger to Gillian's face and then put it to her nose. She turned to her father. 'Quick, take her into the kitchen - quickly!' She turned to me. 'Ring for an ambulance. Tell them it's an acid bum.'

A faint voice murmured, 'My eyes! Oh my eyes!'

Acid in the eyes

'Thanks, Malcolm,' he replied. He looked as if he had

grown ten years older in the last fifteen minutes.

Alone in the house, I poured myself a drink and sat down

to think while I waited for the police. Nothing made sense.

Gillian Ashton was an ordinary young woman who liked

living at home, looking after her father. What possible

reason could anyone have for throwing acid in her face? l

thought about it for a long time and got nowhere.

After a while a police car arrived. I could not tell the two

policemen much because I knew very little about Gillian and

her father, and they did not seem very satisfied with what I

told .them. Twenty minutes later another car arrived. A

policeman in plain clothes came in.

'I'm Detective Inspector Honnister,' he said. 'Are you Mr

Jaggard?'

'That's right. Come in, Inspector. I've got something to

show you which I'm not supposed to let you see. But in these

circumstances I think I have to show it to you.'

Honnister looked puzzled as I gave him my special

identity card. 'We don't see many of these, Mr Jaggard.

They're rather special. Have you any ideas about what's

happened? Are you here on business?'

I shook my head. 'No, I've got no ideas. I'm not here for

professional reasons. I'm just a family guest for the

weekenq.'

'Well, this looks like the sort of problem we're going to

have to solve the hard way - step by step. But I'll be glad to

have your help, Mr Jaggard.'

Ashton and Penny came back some hours later. Penny

The Enemy

looked pale and tired, but Ashton had recovered some of his energy. 'Good of you to stay, Malcolm. Stay a little longer - I want to talk to you. Not now, but later.' He spoke as if it was an order, not a request.

He went off to his study and I turned to Penny.

'How's Gillian?' 'Not good,' she said sadly. 'It was strong acid. What son of person could do such a terrible thing?' 'That's what the police want to know. Docs your father

have any enemies?' I asked.

'Daddy?' She frowned. 'If you become succ�ssful, you're

bound to upset some people, so there must be some people who don't like him. But not the kind of enemy who'd throw acid into his daughter's face. That's something different.' I had to agree, and we talked as we had our dinner - just the two of us. Shortly afterwards Benson came into the room.

'Mr Ashton would like to see you, sir,' he announced.

Ashton was sitting at his desk, a glass of whisky in his hand. The bottle in front of him was half empty.

'I'm so sorry about what has happened,' I said.

'I know, Malcolm,' he agreed. 'But, tell me, how are things with you and Penny?' 'We're very good friends. Is that what you mean?' 'Not exactly. What are your plans?' he replied.

'I intend to ask her to marry me, but I haven't done so

yet.' He rubbed the side of his face and thought for a moment. 'What about your job? Is the money good?'

The Enemy

was suddenly so important for Penny and me to marry so quickly. There was something wrong and I had no idea what it was. Penelope was telephoning when I entered the hall. 'I've been talking to the doctors at the hospital,' she said. 'They say Gillian's resting more comfonably now.' 'Good. I'm glad about that. Look, I'll come back tomorrow. Perhaps we can both go to visit her and sec how she feels.'

The mysterious George Ashton

When I walked into the office on Monday morning, there was a message on my desk. My boss, Harrison, wanted to see me immediately. 'You told a policeman at the weekend who you were,' he accused me. 'Why? Your job is supposed to be secret.' 'I was at a house�party, and something horrible happened

- acid was thrown in a girl's face. The police were beginning to look at me suspiciously, so I had to tell them who I was. They would have wasted a lot of time on me if I hadn't. We're supposed to co-operate with the police, aren't we?' 'Was it really necessary to tell the police about yourself?' he asked. 'In my opinion I had no choice. Damn it, I wanted to help the police.'

The mysterious George Ashton

I walked out of his office and went back to my own, feeling very angry. Larry Godwin was there. We shared an office and were good friends. He also knew a great deal about factories and businesses in Britain. 'Do you know anything about a man called Ashton?' I asked him. 'He runs a factory in Slough. They make a special kind of plastic material.' ') haven't heard of him,' said Larry. 'Why don't you ask Nellie? She knows everything,' he laughed. The computer that our office used was called Nellie - I forget why. In its memory there was an enormous amount of information. I sat down in front of the screen, pushed a couple of buttons, and the words 'IDENTIFY YOURSELF' appeared on the screen. I identified myself, and Nellie asked 'INFORMATION LEVEL?' I answered 'Green'. All the information in the computer was kept on different 'levels'. Some people had permission to look only at information which was not very important and not very secret. That was 'Level Green'. There was other, very secret information, which could be seen only by Ogilvie, the head of the department. In between there were several different levels, each one known by a colour. I (^) typed in Ashton's name and address, and almost immediately the message came up on Nellie's screen.

THIS INFORMATION IS NOT AVAILABLE AT THIS LEVEL TRY LEVEL YELLOW I was very surprised. I hadn't expected to find anything at

61�!,,!I' 61�c.t;.r e,..

�

The mysterious George Ashton

Level Purple was too high, too secret for me.

'What the hell have you been doing with the computer, you fool?' he demanded. 'Nothing much. Why? Has it broken down?' I said. 'What's all this about a man called Ashton?' he continued. 'Ogilvie wants to see both of us, immediately. Come on!' Ogilvie was the head of our department. He was not alone. There was a short, fat man sitting in one of the chairs. Ogilvie didn't introduce him, but asked me immediately: 'Malcom, why are you so interested in George Ashton?• 'I'm going to marry his daughter,' I replied. This statement produced a very surprising response. For a minute everybody stared at me in shocked silence. Then the fat man said: 'Why did you think information about Ashton might be in the computer?'

The Enemy

'No reason,' I replied.'I didn't know anything about him

and someone suggested, just as a joke, that I should look in

the computer. I didn't expect to find even his name there.

But something strange happened over the weekend, and I

wanted to find out more about him.'

'What happened?'

'Someone threw acid into his daughter's face and ...'

'The face of the girl you intend to marry?' interrupted the

nameless man.

'No. The younger girl, Gillian. Later on, Ashton behaved

strangely.,

'I'm not surprised,' said Ogilvie. He turned to Mr

Nameless. 'Do you think this is serious?'

'It could be very serious, but I think we're lucky. We

already have an inside man, someone in the family.' Mr

Nameless pointed his cigarette at me.

'Now, wait a minute!' I said. 'I don't know what this is all

about, but Ashton is going to be my father-in-law. I'm going

to be a member of his family. You surely aren't going to ask

me to spy on him.,

'We're not asking you,' said Mr Nameless calmly. 'We're

telling you what to do.'

'Forget it! I'm not going to be a spy in my own family.'

Mr Nameless looked at me in surprise, then looked at

Ogilvie and said, 'I thought you said this man was a good

member of your department. I don't think I can agree.'

'I'm not worried what you think,' I replied angrily.

'Be quiet, Malcolm!' said Ogilvie. He turned to Harrison,

'You can go now, Joe.'

Joe Harrison did not look happy as he left. As the door