Travelling with a diplomatic passport solves a lot of problems, because its possession confers immunity from arrest and search on the individual carrying it, and on his or her baggage. Diplomatic baggage, as a matter of interest, can be anything from a briefcase to an articulated lorry, and large-scale smuggling operations run by corrupt diplomats for their own financial benefit are far from unknown. But there’s no point in having power if you can’t abuse it.
The downside of having a diplomatic passport is that it inevitably attracts possibly unwanted attention. If an aircraft lands anywhere and disgorges a couple of hundred people, one of whom is carrying a diplomatic passport, of all the passengers processed he or she is most likely to be the focus of some kind of follow-up action, unless there is a demonstrably good reason for that person to be arriving at that airport.
As a matter of routine, the DGSI, the Direction générale de la sécurité intérieure, France’s principal counter-espionage and counter-terrorism organisation, was informed by the immigration officials at Blagnac that a British diplomat had arrived there from Heathrow. The report also included a photograph of ‘Paul Beatty’ passing through immigration pulling a carry-on suitcase.
As far as the DGSI was aware, there were no ongoing matters requiring the attention of a British diplomat anywhere in the Toulouse area, and their interest was further heightened by the fact that Paul Beatty didn’t actually look like a diplomat at all. He was less Savile Row suit and old school tie and more a jeans and T-shirt kind of person, although the photograph of him taken at the airport showed him wearing a fairly presentable jacket and casual trousers.
But the passport was genuine and legitimate and obviously there was nothing they could legally do to stop him or question him or otherwise impede his movements. They were kept informed by the local officials that he had hired a car at the airport. They also learned that he had checked in to the local Campanile hotel, which seemed to them to be very un-diplomatic thing to do, most diplomats eschewing budget chain hotels and buffet meals for much grander and more expensive establishments, on the perfectly reasonable basis that somebody else would end up having to pay for it.
The DGSI was sufficiently interested in what ‘Mr Beatty’ was up to that, at a little after two fifty that morning, one of their agents, clad entirely in black and moving with exaggerated care and stealth, spent fifteen minutes studying the hotel parking area to ensure that there was no movement there, and checked the accommodation building as well to make sure that no insomniac businessmen were sitting at their windows and looking out. Only when he was as certain as he could be that the only people within a hundred yards of him were asleep did he walk slowly and silently onto the tarmac parking area, checking all around him as he did so.
He had already noted the exact location of the Peugeot 3008 that was his target. He crept forward, stopped beside the vehicle and then dropped down to the ground. From his pocket he pulled a plastic object about the size of a box of matches. He flicked a tiny switch on one end of the device and was rewarded by a single brief flash of red from an embedded LED. He reached up into the engine bay, his sensitive fingers searching for a flat area of steel on the chassis. He found a suitable location, then reached up with his other hand, holding the device. He held it near the chassis and felt the box move of its own volition as the powerful magnet inside snapped it sideways, clamping it onto the steel with a muffled clunk.
Seconds later he eased up into a crouch, and then stood erect. He glanced round but saw nothing that suggested he’d been seen. Immediately he retraced his steps, moving carefully but quickly out of the car park. Five minutes after that, he unlocked his own vehicle, parked a few streets away, and made a very brief call to an unlisted number.
‘C’est fini,’ he said. It’s finished. It’s done.
The tracker consisted of a small circuit board and a long-life battery that should ensure the device remained active for at least two weeks. By that time the DGSI assumed they would have worked out what Beatty was doing in the area and either lost interest or decided to take some kind of action against him, diplomatic passport or no diplomatic passport.