In my defence, I kept it to exactly 100 words, so it is a proper drabble.
The Spy Who Came in from East Anglia
‘Credo quia impossibile be damned!’ said Peter. ‘I can’t believe that Jerry was a Russian spy. He could scarcely manage je ne parle pas francais, let alone Russian.’
‘I appreciate it’s quite a shock, your Grace’ said the Permanent Secretary, ‘but I’m afraid it’s true. Your brother wrote a lengthy confession.’
‘Bang goes my security clearance,’ muttered Peter. ‘Not that I’ve much time for the FO these days. Who was his contact? He can’t have been passing stuff to Moscow himself.’
‘We don’t know. British, well-travelled, access to sophisticated photographic equipment. Codename might be Greyfriars.’
Peter felt a dreadful qualm.