Gray Vengeance (25 page)

Tom Gray woke to a growling stomach, and his watch told him he’d been sleeping for barely forty minutes. The headache th
at h
ad been threatening for the last half day had finally abated, but he still felt dehydrated. He climbed out of bed and went into the en-suite toilet, where he ran the cold tap for a few moments, hoping for the water to change from a dull rust colour to something more palatable.

He gave up after a couple of minutes, though he used a mouthful of it while brushing his teeth and a splash more to sort out his hair. Looking slightly more respectable, he walked down to the lobby and popped his head into what appeared to be the restaurant, but the place was deserted. With no other choice, he asked the receptionist for directions to the hospital before strolling out into the heat of the afternoon, the plan being to try to join up with his men and grab some sustenance on the way.

In the distance he could see the building his friends had gone to, and he walked towards it, keeping an eye out for a shop that would provide him with food and drink. The first place he came to sorted out his thirst problem, and he followed his nose in search of something more substantial than the airline meals that had seen him through the last couple of days.

The aroma of spices drew him towards Kurmi Market. Alas, the first stalls he encountered offered only the uncooked versions of local cuisine. He continued onwards through the maze, trying his best to explain to the locals that he didn’t want a wooden crocodile statue, just something to fill his stomach.

He eventually came across a rickety wooden stand that had cooked chicken hanging from metal hooks, and he took a chance on a bowl of what looked like curry. It was served with unleavened bread, and, despite looking rather unpleasant, tasted delicious.

Gray emptied the bowl in double-quick time and was contemplating another helping when he looked through the back of the stall and saw someone familiar in the adjacent aisle. He watched as Paul Mackenzie thrust a handful of the local currency into the hands of a cloth salesman in exchange for a multi-coloured wrap, but the tall recruit’s real focus was clearly on the next stall, which offered a wide selection of mobile devices. Scarf in hand,
Mackenzie
sl
id t
o the next stall and pointed to a flip-up handset. He didn’t bothe
r to d
icker over the price, but simply handed over a fistful of naira, then disappeared back in the direction he’d come from.

Gray’s face heated as he watched in disbelief. The one thing he’d hammered home to everyone was that phones were strictly off limits, yet here was Mackenzie buying a new handset. Why he’d need one, Gray wasn’t sure, but he suspected it was so th
at h
e could stay in contact with his girlfriend, who certainly sounded high-maintenance.

Gray set off in pursuit, but something popped into his head and he checked his pace.

What if Mackenzie weren’t going to use it to call his girlfriend? What if he wanted it to stay in touch with someone else?

He thought hard about what he knew about the man, and there wasn’t that much. He remembered his CV mentioning that he’d left the army shortly after joining E squadron, which had struck Gray as odd at the time. Every member of the SAS wanted to be chosen for that particular unit, so to be given the opportunity only to walk away a few months later didn’t add up. Even the recent revelation that there was a beautiful woman influencing his decision didn’t feel right. Gray himself had been besotted with his first wife Dina but had made it clear from the start that he was SAS through and through. It was the birth of their son Daniel that finally prompted him to consider a different, safer line of work.

Gray let Mackenzie get a lead on him, then took a circuitous route back to the hotel, all the time considering his options. Confronting Mackenzie head-on was unlikely to be productive, so he thought up a couple of ways to find out exactly what Mackenzie’s intentions were.

By the time he got back to his room, he had the basic plan in his head.

‘I thought you were sleeping,’ Smart said, as he walked into the room. ‘We got worried when we came back and you were gone.’

‘I needed something to drink,’ Gray told him. ‘How did it go?’

Ackerman told him about the brief meeting. ‘Going back for a second interview is out of the question.’

‘What about his phone? Is there anything useful on it?’

Ackerman looked over at Mackenzie, whose head dropped. ‘I left it on the nightstand. When he started screaming, it completely slipped my mind.’

‘There’s always plan B,’ Sonny reminded him, and before
Ackerman
could object, he explained what he had in mind.

‘I like it,’ Gray said after a moment’s thought. ‘Len, you and I will go with Kyle to get the airline passenger lists. Sonny, I want you and Mackenzie to scope out the hospital from the exterior and let me know if you’re going to need anything to make this happen.’

‘Are you sure about this, Tom? It’s incredibly risky.’

‘Relax,’ Gray smiled. ‘It’s what we do best. Let’s get moving.’

Ackerman pulled a plastic bag from his hand luggage and followed Smart and Gray down the stairs and out into the street, where they flagged down a taxi. Once they had climbed in and pulled away, Gray told them that he had something entirely different on his mind.

‘We’re not going after the guy in the hospital,’ he said, and got confused looks in return.

‘Then why send Sonny and Mack to check it out?’

‘I don’t think we can trust Mackenzie,’ Gray said.

‘Because he forgot the phone?’

‘That’s part of it, but when I was in the market I saw him buy a new mobile.’

‘Why the hell would he buy a phone?’ Smart asked. ‘We went over that.’

‘Exactly my point,’ Gray said. ‘Leaving the guy’s phone at the hospital is one thing, and it could be excused in a rookie, but this guy was in the top one percent of the regiment. To go on and disobey a clear order says there’s more to Mackenzie than we thought.’

‘So what do we do about it?’ Ackerman asked.

‘I need you to call Andrew.’

Gray gave Ackerman a set of instructions and listened in as they were relayed back to England.

‘If you’re right about this,’ Ackerman said, as he ended the call, ‘how do you want to handle it?’

‘Sonny’s plan B,’ Gray said. ‘A quick, aggressive chat.’

Chapter 35

19 December 2014

Andrew Harvey stood in the small kitchenette, stirring his coffee absently as he stared at nothing in particular. The revelation that Gray’s man Mackenzie could be tied up in the whole mess had come as a shock, though it finally explained the source of the text messages to Thompson, the most recent one of which had read:

Gray’s kid in Italy with grandparents.

He knew for a fact that Ackerman hadn’t mentioned grandparents during their conversation, strengthening the argument against Mackenzie. All he had to do now was get irrefutable proof, and Gray’s idea might just work, with a little tweaking.

He picked up the drink and walked back to his desk.

‘Any news from the continent?’ he asked Farsi.

‘No sign of Farrar’s yacht yet. I think he may have tried farther afield, so I’ve alerted the Spanish, Portuguese and Moroccan authorities in the south, along with Germany and the Scandinavians to the north. I can’t imagine he’d go too much farther in that vessel.’

‘Hopefully we can trick Mackenzie into giving us a heads-up on Farrar.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘When I get a pre-arranged text from Kyle, I’ll call him ten minutes later and tell him we’ve found Farrar and that they can come home. If Mackenzie’s the one passing info to Thompson, we’ll know about it.’

‘And if he’s not the one?’

‘Then we’re back to square one, and we’d better hope they have a plan B.’

‘You really think Farrar is behind all this?’

Harvey sat back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. ‘To be honest, I still can’t believe Juliet Harper is involved.’

‘She’s a politician.’ Farsi shrugged, his statement needing no clarification. ‘What should concern you more is Brigandicuum. I‘ve been thinking about it, and there’s no way this can be kept under wraps.’

‘They have that covered,’ Harvey told him. ‘It’s totally deniable. A press of a button and it’s history. All traces will be wiped.’

‘You really think it’ll be that simple?’

‘They’ve been planning this for years. I think they’ll have all bases covered.’

‘Then how do we make a conviction stick? We’re working on the premise that Harper set the attacks in motion in order to get this thing online. If we have no proof that Brigandicuum exists, what case do we have?’

‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ Harvey said. ‘And if we do get proof, we can kiss the world’s greatest anti-terrorist system goodbye.’

‘So it’s a trade-off. Either we let Harper get away with it, or we lose Brigandicuum.’

Harvey had come to the same conclusion a few hours earlier, and he still wasn’t sure which was the best outcome. Brigandicuum was undoubtedly the best tool they had, and it would help immensely in the war against terror, but at what price? Was it worth the lives of almost ten thousand British citizens, not to
mention
those visitors from other countries caught up in the carnage? Could he
conscionably
allow Harper to get away with mass murder in order to prevent further atrocities? His heart said no, but the thought of throwing away their greatest asset meant making a decision was almost impossible.

Still, he knew, he had to get the proof first; deciding what to do with it would come later.

He got up and went to Gerald Small’s office, knocking before walking in.

‘Did you manage to get into Harper’s phone?’

‘Not yet,’ Small said. ‘None of the usual methods worked, which is no real surprise. I’m still trying, though.’

‘When you get a second, could you look into something else for me?’

‘Sure. What is it?’

‘When I was at Haddon Hall, I logged into my MI5 profile. Will our logs have a record of that?’

Small nodded. ‘Of course. We’ll have all the details, including the IP address you logged in from, date and time, and the files you accessed.’

‘Do you think you could use that to get onto the machine I used there? The one at Haddon Hall?’

‘I’ll certainly be able to identify it,’ Small said. ‘Whether or not I can get access is another matter completely.’

‘I’d like you to try,’ Harvey said.

Small turned to his computer and his fingers danced over the keys. ‘It’ll take some time,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’ll come and get you if I strike gold.’

The taxi dropped the trio off outside the British Consulate on Emir Palace Road, and Ackerman showed the armed guard his
credentials
. The plastic bag was inspected, the soldier eyeing the bottle suspiciously, but when Ackerman explained that it was for one of the senior staff, he was allowed to take it in. Ackerman led Smart and Gray into the foyer, and all three were pleased to discover that the place was air-conditioned.

‘Kyle Ackerman to see Dennis Engle,’ he told the woman behind the Perspex shield at the reception booth. ‘He’s expe
cting me.’

She asked him to take a seat and picked up the phone.

‘So who’s this Engle guy?’ Smart asked. ‘Another spook?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Ackerman said. ‘All I got from the
Pretoria
office was that he likes his bourbon, hence the token of
appreciation
.’

He held up the plastic bag just as a portly man appeared in front of them, sweating despite the near-frigid air. His face was almost beetroot-red, and Ackerman wondered if it was just hypertension or something alcohol-related.

Probably the latter
.

‘Dennis Engle,’ he said, holding out his hand, though his eyes were fixed on the duty-free bag.

‘Kyle Ackerman. Is that for me?’

‘Oh, sorry,’ Engle said, handing over a bulging manila envelope before wiping his face with a handkerchief. ‘I had to pull a lot of strings to get this from the airport authorities. You mentioned . . . .’

Ackerman took the hint and handed Engle the bag, watching his eyes light up at the sight of the sour mash.

‘We just can’t get this over here,’ Engle said. ‘Yet another reason to hate this shit-hole. That, and the bloody heat. And don’t even get me started on the sodding terrorists . . . .’

As the rant continued, Ackerman opened the folder and checked the first few pages. Each entry had a passport photo, which was a lot more than he’d expected. It would certainly make their job a lot easier.

He shook Engle’s hand again and thanked him for his help, then made a beeline for the exit, closely followed by his companions. When they looked back, Engle was already heading back to an office, and Ackerman guessed he would be unavailable for the remainder of the day.

‘We need somewhere quiet to go through these,’ Gray said. ‘Let’s get back to the hotel before Sonny and Mack turn up. I want to try to find Farrar before they get back.’

Smart flagged down a taxi, and once inside Ackerman handed them both a few sheets, which they studied on the short journey. By the time they reached the hotel they’d managed to get through a dozen each, but that still left a couple of hundred pages to trawl through.

Once back in Gray’s room, they locked the door and Gray dug out a photo of James Farrar that he’d printed out prior to leaving England.

‘This is who we’re looking for,’ he said to Ackerman.

They divided up the papers, which contained ten passport records apiece. It helped that the majority of profiles were for
African
nationals, meaning they were able to skim through until they came to a Caucasian face.

Fifteen minutes into the exercise, Smart held up the piece of paper he’d been scanning.

‘Got ’im!’

Gray took the printout and ran his finger down the list until he came to a very familiar face. The smug expression he remembered even adorned Farrar’s new passport photograph, although the n
ame—
Harold Ericson—was obviously new.

He checked the flight details, and saw that Farrar had left the country on the fifteenth, four days earlier. His EgyptAir flight to Cairo appeared to have been the final destination, but Gray
suspected
Farrar
wasn’t stupid enough to telegraph his final destination by buying a through-ticket.

‘Now that we’ve identified your man, what do we do?’
Ackerman asked.

‘Get Andrew on the phone,’ Gray said. ‘Ask him to follow the trail, and tell him the original plan remains in place.’

Ackerman made a quick call, giving Harvey the flight and passport details, and told him to expect a text message in the next hour, per their earlier plan regarding Mackenzie. He listened for a moment, then hung up.

‘Andrew says Hamad can get into the Egyptian airline
database
, so we should have news soon.’

‘Great,’ Gray said, gathering up the sheets of paper. He stuffed them back into the envelope and handed it to Smart. ‘Take this somewhere and lose it. Kyle, when Sonny and Mack get back, make your excuses and send that text to Andrew. I’ll tell Sonny and Mack that we couldn’t get the list and that the guy in the hospital is our only lead. Andrew should get back in touch while we’re developing a plan, and then we just have to wait for Mack to
squirrel
away and make his move.’

Smart took the envelope and left, returning ten minutes later. The trio had to wait another hour before Sonny walked through the door, Mackenzie in tow.

‘How does it look?’ Gray asked.

‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ Sonny said. ‘His room is at the back of the building and there’s plenty of tree cover.’

‘Good. Then we go in tonight. Kyle, can you see if you can rustle up some food?’

Ackerman took his cue and left the room, and Gray asked Sonny for details of the layout and any equipment they’d need. Sonny told him that there was access via a drainpipe, so no need for a rope. All he really required was something to force the
window with.

‘I saw a stall in the market that sells knives,’ Smart said. ‘Sonny and I can go and get a couple.’

‘Do it after lunch,’ Gray told them. ‘We might need to add more to the list before you go.’

Ackerman returned a few minutes later and dropped a large paper bag on the table. ‘I got bread, cheese and what could either be lamb, goat or horse, though the man assured me it w
as beef.’

The men tucked in, most of them enjoying their first bite of the day. Gray pressed Sonny on the layout of the hospital and
Ackerman
about the number of staff he’d seen during his visit.

When Ackerman’s phone beeped twice, all eyes turned to him. He unlocked the handset and checked the message before handing it to Gray.

Gray studied the phone with all the dramatic flair he could muster. Then he clicked off and faced the team.

‘Harvey says he’s found Farrar. We’re to head home.’

‘Where is he?’ Smart asked.

‘He didn’t say. He just told us to grab the next flight home, jo
b done.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Smart said, throwing his piece of dried meat into the bin.

‘Okay, guys, pack your gear and meet back here in fifteen
minutes
. Kyle, book us some tickets.’

Sonny and Smart retreated to their room, Mackenzie to his.

‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough if Mack’s playing us,’
Ackerman
said to Gray once they were alone. ‘Have you decided what to do if he is?’

‘We’re going to leave him here, but first, I want you to go
shopping
again.’

Andrew Harvey stood over Gerald Small as the technician’s
fingers
flew over the keyboard. While it was great news that Gray had
confirmed
Farrar’s involvement, it didn’t leave much time for him to get access to the home secretary’s phone. The only concrete proof he could envision would be capturing a conversation between Harper and Farrar, and he expected it to happen soon.

That’s because Mackenzie and Sarah Thompson had engaged in a rapid-fire text conversation moments ago:

Harvey has found Farrar

Are you sure?