Andrew Gilbrook

An Ordinary Guy, Operation Saponify


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out most information the Intelligence Service holds is obtained in that way.

      The work became more and more challenging as I gained experience, then, in 1988 I was given a task in Angola. Things didn't go according to plan and following capture, torture and escape, my career ended. What followed was years of keeping my secret, suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Until 2019, when I wrote and published my first book.

      This story, begins in 1976, let's start there.

       Secrets and Lies

       Timeline - February 1976

      Most Officers in MI6 have a cover, usually a small business or something to provide the deception of normality while they do their darker business. I worked with my father, the only person in my family that knew what I did. He’d cover for me whenever I needed to go away somewhere, I could use a telephone at work, not secure but I worked that way for years. At that time I had no girlfriend or wife, so things were quite easy should I need to go off somewhere. Of course, given the choice Karen and I would be together, but sadly it was never to be. There were security issues if we became a couple. One day I was at my father’s business, a printing company near Rickmansworth, Hertfordshire. The phone rang. I took the phone call in the general office. I recognised the voice immediately as Karen’s.

      “Andy, could you come in please,” that was all I needed to know it was a request to go to Century House, 100 Westminster Bridge Road, London, MI6. The line wasn’t secure, I wouldn’t ask any questions to clarify, I’d find out what this was about when I got to London.

      “Tomorrow OK?” I replied

      “Yes not urgent,” was the brief reply and I hung up. The next day was Saturday, so it was a little quieter on the Metropolitan train line from Rickmansworth into London, 39 minutes and a change onto the Bakerloo Line, a few stops and a quick walk to the MI6 building.

      It was very unusual for me to go to London, I never thought it a wise thing to do, but I guessed there must be a good reason to be asked. I wasn’t worried about the request, there was no point in worrying, worry and stress isn’t my thing.

      Through security and up to my office, I found Karen busy at her desk, did she ever go home! As there was almost no one around on the floor where my office was, I kissed a greeting on her cheek, “Good morning Karen, you are looking gorgeous as always,” she smiled back happy to see me again. “Morning Andy, good to see you too, your visits are too rare,” Karen looked immaculate as always, she was a beautiful lady her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed less formally, I guessed as it was Saturday and fewer people were around, I never minded how she dressed and my heart rate always went up when I was in her presence.

      “So, what have we got?” I asked. Karen reached into her desk drawer and handed me a folder, there were maybe a hundred pages inside. The front had the inscription “TOP SECRET” and someone had handwritten an unusual addition “ULTRA” to the left of it. I had never seen this category level of secrecy, it wasn’t official, Top Secret being the highest level, I wondered if this was just graffiti.

      “Go read, I’ll bring some tea, and have a talk to you about this,”

      “Okaaay,” I said intrigued by the mystery.

      I turned to check the office door to the corridor was closed and made my way through the adjoining door to my office and sat at my desk so I could easily open and arrange the file contents on the top. My office was bright, light and a good place to work, it was business-like yet comfortable with a desk and a sofa where more informal talks could take place, though in my case that would rarely happen here, I’d prefer a hotel or one of the many private clubs that we had membership to.

      The first thing I noticed was that the folder hadn’t been signed out, or for that matter in. Inside the folder should be a Routing and Record Sheet, a form where anyone wanting to review the folder would have to sign for it, giving their name, department, a short reason for the review, and then signing back in. This is a permanent part of the folder so it has a history as to who has seen it. I looked at the front again and noticed in small type at the bottom right the address, Hanslope Park. This place, basically a secret storage building, was near Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire and I believe it is run by the RAF to appear to look like a small base that few people would question if they even noticed it. I had heard of this place, “Q” division, I knew the place contained thousands, if not millions, of highly sensitive documents and files. I had never been there, but I heard that the place was huge and contained files that were supposed to never be released after the 30-year rule came up. The 30-year rule is the period before papers can be released on request under the Official Secrets Act. I had heard some documents could be 200 years old and their existence never to be admitted should anyone request any files on whatever subject they contained. Britain is very good, or very bad at hiding secrets from its people.

      So what was this file doing here? This was highly improper.

      “So, where is this from and why have we got it?” I needed to raise my voice so Karen could hear in the adjoining room.

      “It came from Jenny,” Karen came back

      Jenny was Karen’s flatmate and the two were best friends. To live with Karen, you had to share her wicked sense of humour. Karen owned a nice flat quite near to Century House, one underground stop away at Elephant and Castle. I had been there a few times, beautifully furnished a gift from her banker father. Jenny was a sweet girl about two years younger than Karen. She also worked at Century House in the secretarial department doing admin work. She was pleasant and very attractive.

      I flicked through some of the papers in the file, they seemed to be mostly American CIA documents, some had been redacted, which means they had probably come from the public domain. Redaction is when papers requested by the public are censored by blacking out names or information that could be sensitive to release, what’s left is a readable document, but all the best stuff is covered up.

      I started to read some of the pages,

      “JEEZ,” I exclaimed under my breath, this stuff was shocking. I’d seen some secrets before, created some secrets before, but this was shocking. If what I was reading was true history books would have to be altered. Karen came through with two teas and sat with me at the desk, her beauty was a distraction, I loved her so much and she loved me.

      “So, come on fill me in, what’s the story? This is shocking to read I have to say, have you read all this too?” I asked her.

      “I’ve read some of it not all,” and she began to recount how the folder had found it’s way to my office. “Jenny has been seconded to the digitalisation department for a while,”

      “What is dig-i-tal-isation?” I said the word in struggled syllables as it was a new word for me, although we used computers and today it’s a commonly used word, this was the first time I’d heard it, I wasn’t a technical person.

      “There’s a team converting secret paper files onto the new computer system. Files are delivered to her desk, they are photographed and entered into a database, it’s huge, and the work will take years,”

      “Sounds quite boring work, unless she has time to read some of this stuff, I don’t think I’d have the patience for that work,” I said and added “Dig-i-tal-isation, is difficult and long-winded to say, I think I’ll call the department Double D it’s easier,”

      Karen smiled at my simple ignorance,

      “So, this file passed over her desk, and it has concerned her,” Karen informed me.

      “She shouldn’t let that happen, what the files contain is none of her business, I agree this file is highly controversial but she must be seeing thousands of controversial stuff, why this one in particular? Also, by removing it from the department, she has committed a grave offence, she could be in big trouble if it’s found missing. Why has this concerned her so much she was prepared to risk her job and everything?” I added.

      “The simple answer is – she is Jewish,” Karen answered the question.