General Max dropped the folder to the top of his desk with the resigned sigh of the "much put upon". He stared once again at its cover, emblazoned with a deep red maple leaf and a NATO code clearance that was higher than President Clinton's. Then he looked up to the quiet man he had known for well over half his life.

"Jesus Christ Mackie . ", he said quietly. He couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment. He had been an intelligence operative since the middle of the Vietnam War and he had thought himself beyond real surprise anymore. He had just found out he was wrong.

"If you were not an old friend, one I trust with my very soul Max, you and I would not be having this conversation. Other than the operatives themselves, only 5 people in the world know the whole story you just learned. You're the sixth; not even Chretien himself knows about it."

"You would've had to keep the numbers small to stay hidden this long. None of my contacts in MI-6, the CIA, or the KGB even had a hint of this. Hell, I've known you damn near 30 years, we've swapped intel. data hundreds of times, and even I didn't know about it."

Max had known Mackie since they had served together in The 'Nam. Like a lot of Canadians, Mackie had signed on with the US Army for duty. 'God knows why,' Max thought, but he had met hundreds of them. He was a shave-tail 2nd Lieutenant in the infantry and Mackie had been an MP. Both had got stuck in the unholy hell of the jungle, behind NVA lines, during the Tet offensive. They had met up and fought back to back, side by side, for days on end until they had made it back to American lines. Each had saved the other a dozen times. They had been as close as brothers ever since.

But in the sinister looking folder before him, Max saw a whole new side to his friend. 'How many people have you killed Mackie,' he thought to himself, 'or had killed with just a few words.' Max had ordered many deaths himself over the years, but had never once suspected that his dignified police friend was doing the same.

General Max looked at David "Mackie" MacKenzie and realised just how little he knew about the man who was his brother in all but name. He had to give his old friend one thing; he looked damn good in that dark red uniform. Being promoted to the rank of Commissioner of the Patrol, the top post of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, had not softened up his old friend. 'Hell,' Max thought 'if anything he looks better.'

Unlike the picture of the Mounties that most non-Canadians have, Max knew that the Red Serge, the world famous uniform of the RCMP, was only worn on ceremonial occasions. The fact that Mackie was wearing it, along with all his decorations and awards somehow made this little meeting all the more ominous. The only thing that marred the post-card perfect picture of a Mountie was the black arm band and black line across Mackie's shinny gold badge.

Publicly, Mackie was in Britain to attend a funeral with full honours for 5 members of the RCMP who had died protecting the Queen when the Canadian embassy had been the target of a terrorist attack. Ostensibly blamed on the IRA, it had actually been an attempt by the PDG to kill the Queen and throw Great Britain into a morale slide that would have crippled Max's operation here.

Since the disastrous end of their operation earlier in the year, PDG had been quiet in the Isles. This desperate attempt to leap back into the game only proved to Max that once he could isolate and get rid of PDG agents in any single place, then he could pretty much keep them out. The same tactics had worked in Texas even better than here. The fact that he and his people had little or nothing to do with the break up of PDG's original British op. meant little to him.

He had been very successful in either stopping or finding new agents and "expending the enemy's assets" as his orders read. In fact Britain was one of the few places where his people could operate with an advantage. While he regretted the deaths of those Mounties, Max felt a strange sense of satisfaction in the fact the Mounties had been ready for anything and even outgunned and out numbered had won the day. It was Max's intelligence service that had caught wind of some big op. in the works and had passed the word to all of the nations involved in the silent war being raged with PDG.

The 3 men and two women had managed to stop the attack just a few meters from where the Queen was dinning, but the price had been their lives.

Britons had been shocked at the attack on the Queen, and had shown an amazing amount of respect and honour to the Canadian's who had died saving their head of state. Normally they would have been taken home for burial, but the British parliament wanted to have them all buried with full honours in a special vault near the site of the attack. They wanted to make a monument to the Mounties. Canada had left the empire years before, but the historically minded British still had a soft spot for "these rough necked Colonials".

The funeral had been attended by hundreds of police from around the world, as well as the head of Scotland Yard and the Queen herself. Mackie had come to lay to rest 5 of his own. General Max had seen the news coverage and knew that the tears in his friend's eyes had been genuine.

But it has also given Mackie a chance to come to see Max without taking a special trip that would have most likely tipped off PDG. The General had assumed that his friend just wanted to catch up old times, perhaps even get liqoured together to take his mind off the deaths of his people. Max had been dead wrong.

Mackie had come to make an old saying come true.

"Mackie there is no way I can keep this to myself. If these people start operating alone and my people don't know, they could stumble into the middle of one of my ops. and get whacked in the confusion."

"Max old friend, if that should happen, I assure you that it would be YOUR people going home in bags." The words were not spoken with arrogance, but rather with the calm surety of a man stating that the sun would come up in the morning. The soft smile that accompanied it made it all the more convincing.

"But I do understand your problem. That's why I'm here Max, so that we don't wind up with a morgue full of dead agents." Mackie reached out for the folder, tucking it under his arm.

"Christ man, why didn't you tell me about this earlier at the first PDG briefing?" Max was genuinely (and in his opinion rightly) angry.

"You didn't need to know then Max. I know for a fact that you didn't tell us about ALL the agents you have in place. And we both know that the Brits and the Russians have assets that they haven't told anyone about. The Watchers are my best people, and the best kept secret in Canadian history." Mackie didn't look one bit guilty. Max knew him well enough to know that if he thought he was right, Mackie wouldn't tell God something he didn't "need to know".

"We handled our end of the operation, just as promised. You didn't need to know how. Now you do. I'm taking a hell of risk just letting you look at the cover of this file Max, let alone giving you the whole run down. " Mackie got up and headed to the wet bar, looking over his shoulder to see if Max wanted a drink as well. Max nodded his agreement and Mackie brought two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"I'm sorry Mackie, but damn it all, I sure could have used The Watchers in the last few weeks. We've really been taking a beating." Max took the shot of whiskey from Mackie and downed it.

"I know Max, but even if you knew I couldn't justify sending them out of country until I had cleaned house back home." He filled his glass for the second time, shooting it back right away. "If my kids had not been killed I would have be over to see you anyway. Now that you do know we can take care of two birds with one stone."

Mackie downed a third shot, then looked Max dead in the eyes. "Nobody Max.nobody kills a Mountie and gets away with it. Period!" Mackie slammed his glass down so hard it left a dent in the desktop. "And we all owe these PDG bitch's some payback."

Max considered all the options open to him as to the best way to use the incredible asset he had just been given.

"Mackie, you have to let me tell one other person." Max had to have Dianne take a look at this file and have Mackie give her a full briefing, just as he had done for Max in last 2 hours. Max wanted to have a second opinion on this. He already knew what his orders would be if Dianne agreed with his assessment of Canada's little secret, but he wanted her to confirm that assessment.

"Who Max? I don't want some gung-ho hot head tossing around my people like pawns on a chess board."

Max knew then that Mackie was serious about letting him use The Watchers. If he had not been totally committed to this, then he would have told Max to piss off and left the office. Mackie was willing to risk letting this leak in order to get the job done.

"Don't worry, she won't. I want you to come me to brief Dianne and let her read that," Max said, pointing to the file.

"Dianne? Are you sure about this Max? I've seen the toxicology reports myself. That drug was incredibly exotic. You sure she's fit for duty? No offence meant to her of courseshe's a fine agent but if she is still a risk.." Mackie let the word hang in the air.

"She's clean; the medical people did a total blood transfusion on her. We even tested her out: played the only recorded conversation we have of Barbanne giving orders to one of her agents. The only thing it did was make Dianne angry."

Max didn't bother to say that it had actually taken 5 total transfusions and 5 tests before Dianne had actually been declared free of the drugs effects. He needed Mackie's co-operation more that Mackie need the truth right now.

Mackie thought about it for several minutes, downing one more shot before turning back to Max.

"Very well then General sir: Her Majesties Royal Canadian Mounted Police are at your service." Mackie saluted, then reached out to formally shake General Max's hand.

Then Mackie clapped his other hand to Max's. "Now, let's go brief Dianne; between the three of us we can use The Watchers to make the PDG howl!"

Max watched the dignified man in the red uniform turn and match smartly out the door towards Dianne's office.

"The Mounties always get their man," he said quietly to himself. "Now I know what that really means."

The Mounties always get their man. Or in this case, their woman. A more modern way of saying the same thing is "Pay back is a bitch."

As he followed, Max felt a small ray of hope for the first time in weeks. They were a long long way from winning, but this just might be the turning point.