Stratton added another mental note about Gabriel. He was literal. ‘No. Why do you think it is an American air base in England?’
‘I can’t see signposts. It doesn’t work like that. If you were to think of a place, anywhere in the world, that you have been to, or even just heard or read descriptions of, a beach, a mountain range, a living room, whatever the images you had in your head, that’s what I would see. I can’t hear voices or the words in a person’s head, just images and emotions. Do you understand?’ Gabriel was beginning to sound like a teacher talking to a young student.
Stratton did not, but at least Gabriel was talking. ‘You can read anyone’s mind then?’ he asked.
‘It’s not mind reading. I don’t know who I can access or why I can access them. In this case it seems to be connected with something very evil.’
Stratton didn’t know what to make of Gabriel. Clearly the man believed in himself, and obviously several people high up in British and American intelligence did too. That negated whatever Stratton thought of all this. All he could do was get on with his job, once he had identified what that was. ‘So why an American air base in the UK?’ he asked.
‘Because it was filled with American personnel, soldiers, airmen, US flags.’
‘But what puts it in England?’
Gabriel went back to his packing. ‘The vehicles, the trucks and the cars, were driving on the left side of the road,’ he said as he neatly folded a shirt before placing it into another compartment of his holdall.
‘Why not Japan?’
‘Red phone boxes,’ Gabriel said. ‘There are some things I am able to work out for myself,’ he sighed. ‘You ever decoded remote viewers before?’
‘No.’
Gabriel shook his head. This was becoming more amateurish by the second. ‘Decoding is everything. You’re here because of your local knowledge. Your job is to interpret what I see.’
‘And you don’t have any hint of what the danger is?’ he asked.
‘I said no.’
‘Then how do you know there’s danger?’
‘Because
he
does. He knows it’s dangerous. It’s the danger itself that I’ve tapped into, more than anything physical.That’s why it’s so strong. It’s the most dangerous thing he’s ever done in his life, and he’s done many dangerous things. I can feel it in him, burning like a furnace.’
‘He?’
‘I don’t know who
he
is either.’
Stratton guessed that might be his answer. ‘You know where this danger is?’ he asked, pressing on.
‘No. It’s not with him. He’s looking for it, or at least he was last time I viewed him. He believes he knows where it is and how to find it, and he is determined to succeed. All I can tell you about the danger is that he’s touched it before but never experienced it.’
‘Do you know anything about him at all?’ Stratton asked, starting to treat it as a game to keep his interest up.
‘He’s foreign. I’m certain of that. I can’t hear voices or discern languages, just the emotion. Emotion has no language barriers. Yes, some races are more emotional than others, but I’m looking at an individual. He’s introvert. Lonely I think. He’s interesting. And dark, of course. Very dark. Dark and deep as an abandoned mine. And dangerous. I could get lost looking inside his head . . . There’s a lot of fear there . . . anxiety. Sadness too, and anger. He’s tormented, that’s for sure.’
‘How do you know it’s a man?’
‘He has the desires of a man.They’re different than the desires a woman has for another woman. You understand that much at least.’
Arsehole, Stratton added to Gabriel’s mental notes. However, the man was genuinely afraid of something and fear alters a person. ‘What do you think he’s afraid of?’
‘That’s the part that’s most confusing. Some of the fear is mine. I’m having trouble controlling it. It’s getting in the way.’
‘Why are you afraid?’
‘I don’t know.’
Stratton looked away, doing his best not to appear unconvinced, but Gabriel was far too sensitive to scepticism to miss it.
Gabriel smirked, more at himself or the situation than at Stratton. ‘You think I’m full of it, don’t you?’
Under different circumstances, Stratton might not have denied it, but considering the powers that sent both of them here to work together it would have been inappropriate. ‘I was told there might be a connection with the supertanker.’
‘You don’t want to be here,’ Gabriel said, ignoring the question and feeling his temper rising again. ‘I can’t see the point in you getting involved if you don’t have any faith.’
‘Maybe someone more suited to this will take my place tomorrow, but right now you’ve got me.’ Stratton hoped that was true about being replaced, and decided he was going to insist on it at the first opportunity.There was nothing about this assignment that fitted his job description.
Gabriel sat down on the bed heavily, exhausted, and held his head in his hands. ‘I need to rest,’ he said, and then immediately appeared to wrestle with himself and got to his feet again. ‘No. We must go. We have to identify the location.’
Stratton studied Gabriel as he pondered the situation. On an immediate basis, getting out on the ground and doing something appealed to him. He did not like stagnancy and preferred being on the move. Also, on a professional level, there was nothing worse than wasting time when there was an opportunity to make ground, and since this was the start, as far as Stratton was concerned at least, moving anywhere was a step forward. Besides, he needed to break the ice with this man, and it did not look as if he was going to get far stuck in this hotel room.
Stratton took his mobile phone from a pocket, scrolled through the phone list and hit the send button. A moment later the call was answered. ‘Stratton here. Two five eight. I need a car, self drive . . . Stratton, two five eight,’ he said, repeating his Military Intelligence number, but the person on the other end could not find any record of him. As soon as an operative was assigned to an operation, every department in MI was supposed to receive a notification e-mail. Not all areas were open to his discretion, such as requesting a private jet, which depended on his priority rating. A car should have been well within his allowances but the procurement department could give him nothing if he was not on the assignment roster. No doubt he was tapping into the system before Sumners had gotten to a computer. Stratton could hear voices at the other end and a moment later the person dealing with him came back on the phone. Stratton was about to ask him to get in contact with Sumners when he was told the assignment roster had just that second been updated and his request was already being processed. Stratton’s faith in the system returned. ‘Thank you,’ he said and put the phone back in his pocket. He checked his watch.
‘A car’s on its way,’ he told Gabriel who nodded and picked up his bag. ‘It’ll take a few minutes.’
Gabriel looked around the room to check he had everything.
‘Do you normally have help decoding your viewings?’ Stratton asked.
‘A vast research department usually.’
‘Back in Virginia.’
‘And Stanford, the research institute.’
‘That’s a university.’
‘The first remote-viewing protocols were synthesised at the institute. The programme was partially funded by the agency who monitor the security issues. But, of course, it’s better to have local knowledge if you’re looking for places, which is why you’re here.’
‘I understand the part about the local knowledge,’ Stratton said.
Gabriel believed him although he remained doubtful the Englishman was any closer to taking it seriously.
They stood in silence for a moment. Stratton had to admit he was mildly fascinated with the concept of being able to ‘see’ other people’s thoughts and wanted to ask Gabriel how he did it, but decided this was not a good time. ‘Let’s head down to the street,’ he said, opening the door.‘It shouldn’t be long.’
Gabriel walked out of the room and Stratton followed letting the door swing shut.
They went down the stairs to the lobby, out through the hotel entrance and on to the street, where they stood apart in silence. A few minutes later a dark blue four-door Rover turned the corner from Edgware Road, cruised along the street and pulled to a stop in front of them. A man climbed out of the driver’s side leaving the engine running, looked at Stratton and gave him a nod. Stratton walked around the car to the driver’s door.
‘This got comms?’ Stratton asked the driver.
‘Na. It’s clean.’
‘No support kit in the boot?’
‘Nuffin. I was told you needed a sterile car just for a run around.’
Stratton understood - they were in good old England on a safe op - but he always liked the support of comms, a medic pack and a weapon or two, out of habit if nothing else. Safe ops held bad memories for him. The last one he ran was in Paris and he had lost a US Navy Seal operative to the Real IRA. ‘Thanks,’ Stratton said to the man who nodded and walked away up the street.
‘This is our ride,’ Stratton said to Gabriel. Gabriel climbed into the back while Stratton got behind the wheel and shut his door. He turned to look at Gabriel pulling his bag beside him and resting his head on the back of the seat as if preparing to sleep.
‘Where’re we going?’ he asked as he turned back to familiarise himself with the instruments and check the fuel gauge.
‘That’s your job,’ Gabriel said tiredly.
Stratton suddenly felt like a chauffeur but held back any sarcastic comment, reminding himself this was a game and a temporary one at that. Gabriel had the clues and Stratton had to piece them together. It might even be fun. What else was going on?
‘An American air base near a large wood with soldiers in it?’ Stratton asked.
‘I have nothing more to add to that at the moment,’ Gabriel said.
Stratton pulled his seatbelt on, put the car into gear, drove round the corner at the end of the street and headed for the Bayswater Road.
The only American air bases in England he could think of were Mildenhall, Lakenheath and Fairford. There were a few others the Yanks shared with the RAF in some way or other and Gabriel had given no clues the bases were not dual nationality. But Mildenhall and Lakenheath were the biggest US bases outside of the States and both were close to Thetford Forest, which had a large Brit army training area.That was north east of London, two hours or so. It was a start, and if it was a negative, he would have to make a few calls to get information on other locations.
M1, M11 or A1, he wondered? The M11 sounded good from what he could remember of trips into Norfolk.
Stratton suddenly felt hungry. He had not eaten supper and only a sandwich for lunch. ‘You hungry?’
‘No.’
Stratton decided to get out of the city first and then stop somewhere, on the motorway perhaps, and grab a bite. He looked in his rear-view mirror. Gabriel had his eyes closed but did not look asleep.
‘Is it some kind of mental gift?’
‘What?’
‘Remote viewing.’
‘I’m told most people can be taught to view.’
‘You can be taught to look inside people’s heads?’ That sounded even more far-fetched.
‘It’s all about clearing one’s mind and getting into a pure alpha state.’
Gabriel did not elaborate further and Stratton was beginning to find his attitude irritating. ‘Gabriel, I’d like to know more about it . . . Yes, I’m sceptical, but you can understand that.’
Gabriel opened his eyes slightly to look at Stratton. He remained silent for a moment deciding whether or not to bother trying to explain any further. ‘The brain basically operates in four mental states: alpha, beta, theta and delta. Delta is deep sleep and the best place to receive viewings, but you can’t interpret them if you are asleep. Theta is light sleep and also a good place to view, but you can quickly drift into delta. Beta is normal consciousness, such as where you are now, but it is almost impossible to view because the mind is too crammed. Alpha is the mind state between theta and beta where you can clear your mind but remain awake. It’s a form of meditation. The rest is practice and being able to interpret what you see. It’s really that simple. If you want to know more about it, you’ll have to get a book. I do it, I don’t teach it.’
Stratton rolled his eyes. He had got what he asked for but was none the wiser.
‘Do you believe in God?’ Gabriel asked him.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Because you haven’t seen him.’
‘Because I’ve never needed him,’ Stratton said, then wondered how true that was. He was reminded of something he had thought of that afternoon on the train while reading his book about the Templars and the crusades, which was how many men went to war and fought for God or in search of him.
‘Interpreting . . . That’s where it always falls apart,’ Gabriel said. ‘Like those cards psychiatrists hold up with nothing but black blobs on them and they ask you what you see. One person sees a butterfly, another sees Abraham Lincoln. Eventually someone has to make a choice, and then all the other choices have to hang off that one. You start wrong, then everything else is usually wrong.’
Gabriel closed his eyes.
‘You make much money as a viewer?’ Stratton asked, trying not to sound flippant, although he was being a little. Gabriel didn’t answer. Stratton glanced in the mirror. He was either asleep or didn’t want to talk any more.
A sign indicated the M11 was a few miles ahead. Stratton checked his watch. They could be in the area in an hour and a half.
An all-too-familiar feeling suddenly enveloped him, a deep sense of pointlessness, as if he should be doing something more useful with his life. What that was he had no idea but the frequency of the feeling seemed to increase the older he got. He often wondered if he would get more out of life doing something like diving instruction on some Caribbean island, living in a palm-covered lean-to on the beach and wearing flip-flops, shorts and brightly coloured shirts. But then, who was he kidding? A week of that and he would start turning crazy. He suspected the answer to his idea of a meaningful life was close by but he had always been skirting around it, not brave enough to make the leap. For the moment Sumners dictated his life for him until he could find one of his own. And fate, of course.