Frank Trench, the Iago of the Redaction Unit. Always plotting, always scheming, and always looking for the next high profile operation, the next promotion or the next advancement up the career ladder at SIS.
Grant"s desk at Pimlico was situated opposite Trench"s and he knew that the man had, in his opinion, delusions of grandeur. Trench was medium height and build with a military moustache and aged somewhere in his mid-forties. He was always dressed in well-cut suits from Saville Row and spoke with the sort of clipped accent beloved of British Army officers of a certain class.
But Grant knew it was bullshit. The man was nothing more than a spiv. Trench was no officer, had, in fact, not risen above the rank of Lance Corporal during his time with the Royal Engineers, first in Europe and la
