The Miernik Dossier

The Miernik Dossier

Charles McCarry

Language: English

Pages: 144

ISBN: 1855014564

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

'Arguably the finest modern American spy story' -- New York Times. 'Charles McCarry is the best modern writer on the subject of intrigue - by the breadth of Alan Furst, by the fathom of Eric Ambler, by any measure' --P.J. O'Rourke

'Intelligent and enthralling... superbly constructed... wholly convincing' -- Eric Ambler. 'Absorbing, intelligent... True entertainment' --New Yorker

'McCarry's thrillers really thrill, his political insight is praised by senior politicians and his erudition, experience and good writing turn spy stories into literature. McCarry and his dynamic alter-egos wipe the floor with the opposition' --Telegraph
About the Author
Charles McCarry is the author, most recently, of the critically acclaimed thriller 'Christopher's Ghosts'. His other much-praised novels include 'The Tears of Autumn', 'The Last Supper' and 'Old Boys'. During the Cold War he was an intelligence officer operating under deep cover in Europe, Africa and Asia.

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on a couple of Sten guns. “We shall only need them in Egypt, where the population is not Arab,” said Khatar. “Once we are across the frontier, you will be quite safe so long as you are with me.” Khatar assures me that he has been schooled since earliest boyhood in desert navigation, so there is little chance that we shall become lost in the trackless waste that lies between Khartoum and his home. “If you become lost in the desert,” he says, “you just go back to where you started and begin the

typical of the elaborate cover mechanisms of the Poles, and the anomalies in the Miernik situation may well be explained by the involvement of the Polish intelligence service in what is essentially a Soviet operation.) 6. Headquarters is hopeful that Christopher will be able to remove any doubts that Miernik and Bentley are under Soviet discipline. Khartoum may use its discretion to invent an operational device that will permit Christopher to confirm that these two operatives are, in fact, what

my friends here would be dead.” I made a ritualistic reply, as I knew that the man Miernik understood Arabic. “God is great,” I said, attempting to give Prince Kalash a warning glance. One does not warn princes; they say what they like. “I shall be interested to hear from you how these Communists knew precisely where to find me in a thousand square miles of desert,” Prince Kalash went on. Finally I managed to quieten him. He went away with his friends. My interview with the Amir began on a

shame. I knew that I could not be a hero in the German’s eyes now. He knew I was a Jew. He knew that my parents were Jews. I might say that he knew more than the French people in our village knew, because my father had stopped mentioning his religion years before. France is not a Jewloving country. “I knew we were all as good as dead. We’d be on the next train for Auschwitz. The German poured some alcohol on his handkerchief and gave it to me. ‘Wash that cut, he said. I did so. He left me

checked the route with the compass. I suppose he was not himself after finding Tadeusz. He omitted some of the precautions he usually took. By the time he realized his mistake, we were too far along to turn back. Besides, he was not anxious to drive in the direction of the bandits. He told me later he had seen their camp from the hilltop where my brother died. We decided to drive down the wadi, which joined the road forty or fifty miles to the south. It was the intelligent thing to do. I was in

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