Billion-Dollar Brain (Secret Files) by Len Deighton

By Len Deighton

The vintage mystery of a deadly machine age and a maniac's deepest chilly war…
General Midwinter loves his state, and hates communism. In a bid to destabilize the Soviet strength bloc he's operating his personal intelligence business enterprise, whose “brain” is the world's largest supercomputer.
With his prior coming again to hang-out him, the unnamed agent of The Ipcress File is distributed to Finland to penetrate Midwinter's secret agent mobile. yet then a perilous virus is stolen, and our hero needs to cease it from falling into the palms of either the Russians and the billionaire madman.
 

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Sample text

Not really,’ said Charlie. ’ That had been after Charlie was stupid enough to make a pilgrimage to Sir Archibald’s grave. British Intelligence had picked him up there and started the pursuit. What logic said it had been all right for them to set him up to be killed in East Berlin, then label him a renegade, to be hunted and assassinated because he had fought back and exposed them for their stupidity? Only Willoughby had understood, because the same men had caused his father’s suicide. So only Willoughby had helped.

Then again, it might be interesting. I think we should look a little deeper, that’s all. ’ Nelson went back to the window, looking now not out over the harbour but down into the streets far below. ‘This might be an English colony,’ he reflected, ‘but it’s China down there, in almost everything but name …’ He turned back to Charlie. ‘Westerners aren’t allowed beneath any surface here. ’ ‘Nowhere can be as closed as that,’ protested Charlie. ‘Hong Kong is,’ insisted Nelson. ‘Believe me. ’ Nelson shook his head.

The rules don’t allow it,’ she said. ’ he demanded, trying to curb the anger. ‘The rules by which the British expatriates live,’ she said. He laughed, trying to relax her. She remained stiff in the seat beside him. ‘Don’t be silly,’ he pleaded. ‘I know them,’ she insisted. ’ ‘Come on,’ he said, determinedly getting out of the vehicle. He walked around to the passenger side, opening her door. She stayed staring ahead. ‘Come on,’ he repeated. She didn’t move. ‘Please,’ he said. He had begun to enunciate clearly, a man intending to show his words and judgment were unaffected by the mid-morning whisky back at the apartment.

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