Blind pursuit, p.6
Blind Pursuit, page 6
Except why would they do any of that?
He gulped at the grim thoughts, nonetheless. And Jasper didn’t even attempt to respond to him before a light knock on the closed door broke the silence.
The door opened. Unlocked, he realised. Interesting. Because earlier in the day, at Bristol police station, that room had been locked. Did that mean anything or was it simply facets of the rooms themselves?
He hadn’t decided on an answer before a casually dressed man walked in. Tall, perhaps six-foot one or two, and lean with a clean-cut face. Mid-thirties, a wide jaw and dark brown eyes sunken under a prominent brow. Those features weren’t so extreme as to give him a stereotypical thuggish look, just someone who looked like he meant business and was obviously more than confident in himself. Callum quickly glanced into the corridor outside before the man closed the door. He noted the shoulder of one of the uniformed police officers standing guard there. Still armed? Callum couldn’t tell.
Before the man had said a word, Jasper, a wary look on her face, got out of her chair and moved to the side of the room where she stood, arms folded, as the man took her seat. He leaned across the table and offered his hand to Callum.
‘I thought it easier if I just came in and took charge of things for a few minutes,’ he said, before sitting back in his chair. ‘It’s not DCI Jasper’s fault that she’s not privy to every detail, and it feels like the conversation’s starting to get a bit stuck.’
‘And you are? Privy to every detail?’ Callum asked. A nod in response.
‘And in answer to your questions to DCI Jasper… No, of course you’re not under arrest. And yes, you can leave this room at any time. If you want to. But… why would you want to leave our care, Callum, when you’ve already seen tonight that there are people out there who are looking for the same thing we are, and who might not be quite so friendly and law-abiding? And when you likely still have so many unanswered questions.’
‘So many,’ Callum said.
The man smiled a little. ‘Let me start by saying… I knew Lea. Personally. We worked together multiple times. She was a great agent and a really good, honest person. And I’m very sorry for your loss.’
Sorrow flashed through Callum, his heart thudding a little erratically as those words brought the reality, the gravity of the situation back to the fore. But it didn’t last long. Partly because he forced it away, still not yet ready to fully face it, and partly because of one of the words that the man had used to describe Lea.
Honest.
‘You’re with MI6?’ Callum asked.
A nod.
‘You haven’t told me your name.’
A pause before the answer. ‘Andrew White.’
The truth? How the hell was Callum supposed to know?
‘You have an ID card, business card or anything?’ Callum asked with a chuckle. The quip got no response from either of the other two. ‘So what are you suggesting?’ he asked. ‘Am I staying here, in this building? Tonight? For how long?’
‘We can move you to a safe house when we’re done here. We have one not far. It’s just… an apartment, to you. But it’ll be secure. We’d rather keep you close while this plays out.’
‘While what plays out? Tell me what’s happening,’ Callum said. ‘Were you… were you with her?’
‘No. But I know about the operation.’
‘And are you going to tell me about that operation? It seems the whole purpose of everyone being after me, you included, isn’t really about my protection, because why the hell would you care? It’s because you think I know something. Either directly or indirectly.’
No response to that. Just a confident stare Callum’s way.
‘But I know nothing! I didn’t even know she was in Bucharest.’
‘I’m sure you’re sick and tired of saying that by now.’
Damn right he was.
‘The problem is, Callum, I’m not so sure I believe you.’
Callum grunted, ‘Why? I don’t know what you want from me!’
‘Can I tell you a little something about the people I work with? People like your wife?’
Callum didn’t answer. An invitation for White to carry on.
‘It may or may not surprise you that we’re really much more analytical, intellectual perhaps, than brawn. I can count on one hand the number of violent scrapes I’ve been involved in, although I’d also say that in all those scrapes, I came out on top.’ A self-satisfied grin at that. ‘But mostly we’re savvy, thinkers. Planners. Tricksters? Yes. And… take a guess. What percentage of MI6 field agents do you think have spouses?’
‘I have no idea.’
White pursed his lips and glanced momentarily at the ceiling, as though thinking. ‘You know what? Neither do I. It’s not like it’s a statistic that’s widely available. But I do know this. Other than Lea, I never met a single other married field agent. It’s pretty fucking obvious why. Our job is dangerous. Leading a double life only adds to the danger. For the agent, their spouse, the entire damn agency.’
Callum stayed silent. He didn’t really know if he was expected to respond or not.
‘Except Lea had you. And I don’t know the full details of how that came about. But I do know it would have to have been sanctioned, one way or another.’
Callum’s anger was rising again, his fists clenched.
‘That’s right, Callum. Your marriage, most likely, was given the green light by my superiors. There’s no way it could have happened otherwise and for Lea to have continued working in the field.’
Callum held his tongue. He knew exactly what White was insinuating. That the whole marriage was a sham. But it certainly had never been a sham on his part. What about for Lea?
‘So this is the question I ask myself. Why? Why did she marry you? Love?’ He let that suggestion hang, but it went unanswered. ‘It’s possible. The most romantic notion. In my eyes, the most unlikely too. Another option? She just wanted a regular, easy fuck. We all have needs, don’t we?’
Callum had to really hold himself back this time, pushing his weight down in his seat so he didn’t spring up and launch himself across the table.
‘Callum, I’m not trying to offend you,’ White said, looking smug at his obvious lie. ‘But it’s important to look at this logically, unemotionally. Perhaps she chose you as a partner for the very reason that she thought she could easily dupe you.’
‘You mean she thought I was an idiot?’
How many times was that today that his intelligence had been questioned?
‘I’m posing scenarios, although personally I’m not sure that’s the right one either. Mainly because, like I said, I don’t know any other agent in that position. And I’m pretty sure plenty of others would go for it, were it so easy. Find a good-looking person of below-average intelligence and con them into a marriage for the sake of convenience.’
‘You sound like such a gentleman.’
‘I didn’t say this was my approach, did I? But there is another option, and to me it makes the most sense.’
He paused there. And Callum, despite himself, grabbed for the carrot. ‘And what’s that?’
‘There was a reason, other than love, other than sex, why she was with you. Why she wanted to be close to you. Protect you.’
Callum shook his head, showing he wasn’t on the same page.
‘You were her asset. In an intelligence sense, I mean. What better way to protect an asset than by keeping them really close.’
‘Are you suggesting…’ But Callum couldn’t quite finish the sentence, or the thought.
‘In my field we all have assets,’ White said. ‘Some are sources of information, some are mercenaries that we use like weapons. Some are disclosed to our superiors, many aren’t. And that’s fine. It’s almost expected of us to have assets that no one else knows about. Like a journalist has sources. I said to you before, we’re savvy people, thinkers, game players, often.’
‘This is ridiculous, I—’
‘What’s ridiculous? It’s an answer that makes a lot of sense to me. And even if I can’t figure what use she saw in you as an asset, what you could know that would be of use to an MI6 field agent, I start to think to myself that if that was the case, then you damn well know it. You know exactly what it is that you hold that was important to her. And she damn well would have confided in you when things were looking bad for her. When there was heat on her. When she got scared for her life knowing the grand nature of the information she had.’
‘But none of that is true! I have no idea what she was working on!’
‘So you say.’
White reached into the envelope he’d brought into the room and took out a small bundle of papers. Pictures?
‘Tell me, do you recognise any of these people?’
He pushed the first photograph over the table to Callum. A man. Middle Eastern origins, perhaps, or North African, something like that. Thirties or forties.
‘No,’ Callum said.
‘And this one?’ Another man Callum didn’t recognise.
‘No.’
‘What about him? Him? Him?’
‘No. No. N… No.’
‘You’re sure about that last one?’
‘I don’t know these people!’
The cascade of photographs was in place as White studied Callum. Did this guy really not believe what Callum was saying? Or were these tactics designed to wear him down, make him question everything even more than he already was?
‘You came into this room telling me I’m here under your protection,’ Callum said. ‘But it feels like this is an interrogation. Like you don’t trust me at all.’
White had the audacity to laugh at that. ‘Believe me, this is not an interrogation.’ He let that comment sit a while, as though it’d add to Callum’s discomfort. It did. ‘The matter Lea was working on was highly sensitive, to say the least. The information she had in her possession, information which is now missing… It could cause chaos if it fell into the wrong hands.’
‘DCI Jasper already told me this. National security, et cetera, et cetera.’
‘This is no joke, Callum.’
‘I never said it was. And my wife is dead. And you have still told me next to nothing about that. Do you even care about how she died or who did it? Is anyone even out there looking for the culprits? Because, more and more, based on what you’ve told me about her assignment, I’m thinking there was no accident.’
No answer.
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
Still no response.
‘Do you know who killed her? Do you want to know? Or do you only care about getting your hands on that missing information?’
‘We’re trained to see the bigger picture, Callum. That data could protect, or cost, a lot of lives. But of course I care about how she died too. She was a close colleague of mine.’
‘Was it one of these men?’ Callum said, jabbing at the nearest picture to him.
No answer to that.
‘I’ll say it one more time,’ Callum added. ‘I had no idea my wife worked for MI6. She tricked me. Not just once but repeatedly, for three years. I never once suspected she wasn’t who she said she was, more the fool me. And I have zero information relevant to you, about her life or her death or whatever it is you’re after.’
White and Jasper still said nothing.
‘I’d really like to go now. To the safe house, if we have to. But I just want to go and be alone and try and sleep if that’s even possible right now and at least start to grieve for my wife in some sort of peace.’
White again took pause before answering. ‘OK. We can call it a night.’
He gathered up the photos and put them back in the envelope, stood up, and pulled open the door.
‘One thing, though,’ Callum said, getting up too.
‘Yeah?’ White answered, glancing back over.
‘You never once asked me about the people who were at my house.’
A perplexed look.
‘Before DCI Jasper and the others arrived, they told me their names. But you never even asked me anything about them, if I knew them, their names, what they said to me. Nothing. Seems to me… the only reason not to is because you already know who they are.’
White still gave nothing away. No confirmation or denial. No reaction at all on his face.
‘You’re asking me to trust you, to be truthful with you, but… what’s in it for me really, when it’s so clear that I mean nothing to you, and when you’re giving me so little back in return?’
‘Get some rest, Callum. It’s been a hell of a day for you,’ White said, before turning back for the door.
But he didn’t make it out of the room before Callum launched himself forward. He’d been contemplating the reckless move for some time. Wasn’t quite sure he had it in him. Still wasn’t even as he dashed forward.
I can count on one hand the number of violent scrapes I’ve been in.
Callum certainly couldn’t. And yet he really, really hoped that statement from White was one of truth.
He grabbed his phone from the desk then straight-armed Jasper to push her up against the wall. He spun and smacked his elbow into the side of White’s face. His head flopped and he dropped to his knee as Callum peeled the envelope from his weakened grasp.
‘Hey!’ shouted the police officer in the corridor who burst into view.
Callum launched his foot into the guy’s groin and he doubled over and stumbled back.
Callum darted into the corridor. Looked left, right. They’d come in from the left…
That door burst open and two other officers barrelled through. Armed. Although the weapons were pointed at the floor.
‘Stop!’ one of them yelled. ‘Stop or we’ll shoot!’
And even if Callum partly believed the warning, he still turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction.
‘Stop!’ came the shout again.
‘Let him go!’ came another shout. White. ‘Just… let him go.’
Even if the comment only further confused Callum, he didn’t dwell. Didn’t look back. Just sprinted. Sprinted.
He crashed through the door at the end of the corridor.
Then carried on running for his life.
7
TOULOUSE
Three years ago
The twenty-four hours since Lea and Denis’s assignment had been upgraded to level three surveillance had been a whirlwind of activity, putting their clandestine skills to the fullest test. Before the identification of the Iranians, they’d only been at level one, which encapsulated basic surveillance, out in public, following marks, taking pictures, that sort of thing. But level three brought a whole lot more of a hands-on – and risky – approach to surveillance and intel gathering, surpassed only by the highest level four which could, in extreme cases, lead to capture and interrogation and even elimination of targets.
None of the latter was yet required here, but still, since the upgrade they’d already broken into Hadjam’s hotel room, planted surveillance devices, copied data from his iPad which had been sent to the lab in London. Not his phone, though. They hadn’t yet managed to get that from him but were actively looking for a way to do so. Over at the Metropolitan Hotel they’d had less success getting into room 604. Lea had earlier set up a camera on the sixth floor corridor, and in the hotel lobby too, but in the time they’d been observing there’d always been at least one person left in the suite, giving no means of access without direct confrontation.
‘What do you think they’re doing here, really?’ Denis asked as Lea stood on the street over from a jewellery store that Taremi had entered nearly thirty minutes ago.
‘Buying something nice for his wife.’
Denis chuckled. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Anything happening where you are?’ she asked.
He was still in their hotel, Hadjam too. Denis was keeping an eye on all their camera feeds as he searched through the data they’d stolen from the French businessman. The team in London were doing that in a more precise, methodical way but Lea and Denis were good at hacking and cherry-picking too, allowing them to quickly identify areas of interest.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen nothing. And you didn’t answer my question.’
‘I kind of did.’
‘You’re saying you think there’s nothing to any of this?’
‘Wouldn’t it be good if that was the answer? Because worst case is these guys are planning to blow up a city or something and we never figure it out in time.’
Another chuckle. ‘Blowing up a city? Lea—’
‘OK, looks like we’re about to get on the move again,’ she said when the door to the jeweller’s opened. She remained where she was, at the head of an alley, waiting for Taremi and his minder – Jalali – to walk out. ‘Wait… OK, Jalali has a briefcase now.’
‘What?’
‘He’s carrying a briefcase. Black leather. Didn’t have it when he went inside.’
‘Did we just land in the eighties?’
‘I think you’re missing the point. Something happened in there. An exchange. They’re going west now.’
‘Further away from the Metropolitan. So they’re not done… shopping yet.’
She moved out onto the street. Busy enough here in a popular shopping area that she should be able to walk along closely without drawing attention.
‘I’ll do some digging into who owns that place, who works there,’ Denis said. ‘Did you get any snaps?’
‘No. They were mostly out of sight.’
‘Shit. So you’ve literally no clue who they were meeting in there?’
‘No. I could go and find out—’
‘Stay on Taremi. Whatever’s in that briefcase… If he’s not heading right back to the hotel perhaps it means there’s another meeting or exchange to come.’
She didn’t answer, already understood the situation. Even if she was angry at herself for not suspecting something untoward in the jeweller’s sooner.
Nothing she could do about that now.
‘They’ve stopped at the window of a clothes store,’ she said. ‘Just a… regular-looking store.’
