The Tenth Chamber

EIGHTEEN

Saturday Night

General Gatinois’s mistress was almost at orgasm or at the very least she was announcing in her own way that it was all right for him to think about finishing things up and rolling off.

He got the message and redoubled his efforts. His sweat beaded up and wicked down the fine white hairs of his chest where it mingled with her own dampness.

She was saying, ‘Ah, ah, ah, ah,’ and suddenly his mobile phone pitched in with a ring tone and cadence remarkably similar to hers.

He reached for the phone which made her angry so she pushed him away and padded off to the lavatory, pink, naked and swearing under her breath.

‘General, am I disturbing you?’ Marolles asked.

‘No, what is it?’ Gatinois asked. He really didn’t care he hadn’t climaxed. It was all too predictable and boring anyway.

‘We’ve been able to hack into the server at PlantaGenetics and obtain the report Dr Prentice intends to deliver to Professor Simard and Professor Mallory on Monday.’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s quite alarming. It’s preliminary, of course, but he’s made some profound observations. He is clearly on the right track to discover more, should he so choose.’

‘Send it to my email. I’m presently not at home but I will be shortly.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘But Marolles, time is short. Don’t wait for my review. Let our people know they may proceed.’

Marolles sounded uncomfortable. ‘Are you certain, General?’

‘Yes, I’m certain!’ Gatinois was annoyed by the question. ‘And I’m also certain I don’t intend to be summoned to the Elysée Palace to explain to the President why the greatest secret in France has been compromised on my watch!’