by Asia Mackay
I nodded. ‘Once the puppet show is over we need to test the range.’
As Pete busied himself climbing into his cave with more howls and pulling out his mammoth and saber-toothed tiger hand puppets, I talked Frederick through the status of the library.
Frederick shook his head. ‘It’s not a good sign for how tight security will be tomorrow night.’
Pete went into a brief stilted monologue about the mammoth and tiger’s eating habits. The children conveyed their lack of interest the only way they knew how, with fidgeting and loud stage whispers of ‘want snackkkk’.
‘Arghhhh, you no hurt me, we friends!’ shouted Prehistoric Pete as the mammoth and tiger puppets went for his neck. He kept hitting himself with them and his cries of pain were rewarded with the magical sound of toddler laughter.
Pete seemed to have found his stride and every time he attacked himself, Frederick and I continued our conversation, debating security issues for tomorrow evening, masked by the noise of giggles, squeals and shouts.
The puppet show ended to a round of applause. Pete and his puppets gave a majestic bow. Pete’s forehead was now covered in sweat from exerting himself so enthusiastically while sporting a heavy animal fur and a synthetic wig. He was now being affectionately shoved by an array of toddlers shouting, ‘Silly man! Silly man!’ Would he consider their enthusiasm a win? Or just another hellish day in the life of a children’s entertainer?
Gigi and Florence came up to us. ‘He funny!’ they said, laughing. I realised that his supposedly prehistoric way of talking was actually toddler talk.
‘Look what Mummy’s got for you.’ I pulled a doll out of my bag and gave it a shake at her. ‘Florence, I’ve got one for you too.’ I pulled out another identical one.
Gigi grabbed one of the dolls and held it tight. Frederick pushed Florence towards me. ‘Go on, darling. Take it.’ She took the remaining doll a little more hesitantly.
‘Why don’t you girls go and have a little run around with your new dollies?’ I motioned towards the library door with the guard seated outside. ‘Why don’t you race Florence up to that door and back? If you do it three times you get a biscuit.’
‘Yayyyy, biscuit!’ they cheered.
The two of them went skipping off, grasping their new dolls.
We watched them go.
Frederick asked with a smile, ‘How are you feeling about using your daughter to trial the radio range of a scanner needed in a top-secret mission?’
‘Pretty good. She’s getting a free doll out of it. The microchip inside can be removed later. You?’
‘Same.’ We watched them leaving the room ahead of us. ‘Chances of them doing what we say?’
‘I’m quietly confident. Gigi would do pretty much anything for a chocolate biscuit.’
They were running now along the corridor.
I looked down at the Peppa Pig toy phone. The light was green – but the girls were still nowhere near the library door. We just needed confirmation that the security wand scanner would be in range of the console box.
Halfway across the corridor the girls stopped. They were brandishing their dolls at each other and chatting animatedly. It was sweet, wondering what they talked about. Their own little people. They were now swapping the dolls between them and comparing them next to each other. I gave myself a pat on the back for going for two identical ones to prevent any chance of a row over who had which.
‘MINE,’ said Gigi, reaching for the doll Florence was holding.
Oh great.
‘No, MINE.’
Gigi threw the doll she was holding onto the floor.
‘Well, that’s not good,’ said Frederick.
I needed to get them back on mission. I rushed up to the girls. ‘What’s going on? Don’t forget the running race. And the biscuits.’
‘I want that one.’ Gigi pointed at Florence’s doll.
‘Gigi, they are exactly the same. What does it matter?’
‘Because it’s mine.’ She snatched the doll from Florence and stared up at me, her mouth in a firm line, chin jutting out.
Florence burst into tears and tried to grab it back. ‘No, MINE.’
The two of them sobbed and tussled, both holding onto the doll.
Frederick joined us. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Our daughters are fighting over an identical doll.’
‘We don’t want to attract any undue attention.’
As if they could understand what he was saying the crying from each girl went up another decibel.
Frederick squatted down next to Florence. ‘Now come on, Florence. This is not on.’
The girl ignored him and continued the tussle over the doll.
We needed to take action. I had found the right-on parenting favourite of ‘use your words’ worked as well on a sobbing toddler as it did on a psychopath brandishing a gun. Bribery was the only solution.
‘Gigi, let Florence have the doll and you can have a biscuit.’ I rummaged through my bag and grabbed the Tupperware box. There was a pause in her tears and she dropped the doll as she observed me. Florence quickly grabbed it and held it tight in her arms. I opened the lid.
Bloody hell.
‘What is it?’ asked Frederick
‘They haven’t travelled well.’ I showed him the inside of the box and broken biscuit bits.
‘What does it matter?’
‘You’ll see.’ I sighed. I put on the perkiest voice I could muster. ‘Here you go, Gigi, two yummy biscuits.’ I pulled two halves of a biscuit out.
She looked at them and then at me as her face crumpled.
‘B-B-But IT’S BROKEN,’ she howled.
‘Gigi, we’ve been over this a hundred times before. It tastes just the same. It’s actually better. You get TWO.’
‘I WANT WHOLE ONE.’ The sobbing continued.
I looked up at Frederick. ‘Go find some chocolate. Or a lollipop. Or a fudging cake. Anything that’s full of E-numbers or bad fat. Go now. We’re meant to be leaving to go see the dinosaurs in a few minutes.’ I looked over at the teacher rallying the parents and children into a line outside the Marine Invertebrates room. He shot off.
Gigi continued to sob with the word ‘biscuit’ and ‘doll’ being screamed in amid the snot and tears. Florence was now sitting quietly, holding the doll tight in her arms.
‘Florence, how about you take the dolly and go stand by that door? You know the big one over there where that man is sitting?’ Florence wouldn’t even make eye contact with me, let alone acknowledge what I was saying. She continued to sit clasping the doll.
I clearly didn’t have a way with other people’s kids. I should at least fare better with my own. I picked up the discarded doll on the floor.
‘Come on, Gigi, this one is much better.’ I handed it to her. ‘Remember the fun race to the door? Stop crying. Please, Gigi. For Mama? Frederick is getting you an amazing treat. And I’ll carry you?’ She continued to howl. ‘And you can have my phone? I promise?’
‘NO.’ She flung the doll across the room. It slid against the polished floor and hit the library door. I looked into my tote bag – the Peppa Pig mobile light was still a steady green.
The security wand at the library door would be in range. Mission accomplished.
Frederick came racing round the corner holding a bag.
‘Gigi! We do not throw, remember?’ I gave the thumbs up to Frederick.
‘Thank God,’ he muttered as he pulled Florence to her feet.
I stood up and turned round. The guard walked towards me holding the doll. ‘Here you go.’
‘Thank you. Sorry about that.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got two of my own. No pleasing them sometimes.’
Gigi looked up at me as I handed her back the doll. She looked down at it for a moment and then took it and tucked it under her arm.
‘I stop cry. Where yummy treat?’
‘Frederick?’
He handed over the bag. Ins
ide it was a lollipop the size of my hand. I gave him a look.
‘It was all they had.’
I pulled it out, took off the wrapping and handed it to her. She started licking it. ‘Now Mama carry. And Mama phone. YOU PROMISHED.’
I did.
I’d promised. I sighed and handed the phone over.
I looked over at the line of nursery mothers watching us, their well-behaved children standing quietly in front of them.
‘Mama, can I have one?’ a boy in a tartan shirt pointed at the lollipop clasped in Gigi’s hand.
‘No, Sebastian, you know we never have treats before dinner,’ his mother replied in a loud voice.
Rochelle made a noise that sounded like she had something stuck in her teeth. Either that or she was tut-tutting me. She couldn’t really be. Could she?
Gigi’s tantrum had nearly derailed a mission and now I was being judged for being a lazy, spoiling parent who had no control over her child. I tried to hold my head up high as I walked past them carrying my two-year-old as she licked the enormous lollipop and stared at the Peppa Pig YouTube video playing on my phone.
They might be thinking ‘crap mother’ but I’d been acting for the good of our country.
*
Gigi and I stood together, hand in hand, staring up at the magnificent skeleton of a diplodocus. ‘Isn’t this amazing, Gigi? We’re seeing an actual dinosaur.’ I’d always been fascinated by these enormous magnificent animals that had roamed the Earth long before our existence. And now I got to share the wonder of them with my daughter.
‘Juss bones,’ said Gigi as she continued to lick her lollipop. ‘Gimme phone.’
The magic of parenthood.
I continued to drag her round each display. I felt marginally better for the fact I hadn’t actually specially taken time off for this non-magical bonding experience.
Yvonne eventually blew a little whistle and waved her yellow flag. ‘Time to go, everyone! We will now depart for the school, where we can do some nice drawings of our favourite dinosaurs.’
Frederick came up alongside me and spoke low into my ear. ‘You have to meet Y at five p.m. Exit four of the Marble Arch pedestrian subway.’ I felt his breath on my cheek. ‘Wait for him at the bottom of the ramp.’ He showed me Y’s photo on his phone. He had thin eyebrows and a large mole on his right cheek.
I nodded.
‘That was fun, wasn’t it, Gigi? Mummy has to go back to work now. But you’re going back to school to do some drawings and Ganma will pick you up from there. OK?’ Ganma was Gigi’s name for my mother-in-law; her first attempt at Grandma was to us so sweet we had kept it going. I held my breath as Gigi computed what I was saying. There was always the fear she would let rip with a round of quickfire words that stung: ‘Why, Mama? Why you leave me? Don’t go, Mama. I just want you. Only you.’
It had been so much easier when they couldn’t talk. When they were just a bundle you could give a kiss and a wave to and skip out the door to your other life. Now there was the fear there would be tears and recriminations. Guilt dragging you down. Making you feel a terrible mother for daring to leave them.
But not today. Thankfully she just nodded. ‘OK, Mama, bye bye.’ And walked off holding Florence’s hand.
Chapter Seven
THE MARBLE ARCH UNDERPASS was surprisingly quiet for rush hour.
‘Looking good, beautiful.’
A man stood in the middle of the underpass staring at me. He was skinny with pockmarked skin, peroxided hair and wearing a long dark coat. I dismissed him as a random sleaze.
‘Come on, give me a smile.’
I gave him the finger over my shoulder as I carried on walking.
‘I’ll be seeing you, Alexis Tyler.’
I stopped, spun around and rammed him up against the wall, my right hand clutching his throat.
‘Who are you? Who sent you? How do you know my name?’
He shakily pointed down to my jacket lapel.
‘You’re . . . you’re . . . wearing a name label.’
‘Right.’ I released him. ‘Stop fucking catcalling women. We don’t like it. And some of us will enjoy showing you just how much.’ I made a jolt towards him. He ran.
I looked down at my lapel and tore off the label.
First and last time being harassed had actually been useful. The creep had at least stopped me from attending a covert meeting with a Chinese Embassy informant with my real name pinned to my breast.
Bloody name badges.
A hazard of my dual life.
*
Y was late. I walked up and down the underpass. I could see why it was a good meeting place. No one would be able to get close to us without making themselves known.
I leaned back against the wall and watched each person that walked past. In the distance I saw a Chinese man coming towards me. Was it Y? I waited until he got closer. Thin eyebrows. Mole on his right cheek. Identity confirmed. I waited for him to catch my eye. He was walking slowly, staring at the ground. He was in a suit with a navy duffle coat on top, a battered satchel slung over his shoulder. He was nearly next to me when he finally looked up. I gave him a small nod and started walking alongside him.
‘I talk. You listen,’ he said quietly. He looked straight ahead.
‘The Ambassador will meet Minister Peng at Heathrow VIP arrival suite. There they discuss the itinerary for her trip and any other upcoming business. You need to listen in. That is important meeting. Very important,’ he repeated. ‘No more contact with me again. Too dangerous now.’
‘But we need—’
‘Peng’s PA, Ling Ling. She records all meetings with her Dictaphone so can type up later. Dictaphone always in her bag. You get the Dictaphone you always know what’s been happening.’ We approached the beginning of the ramp leading back up onto the street. ‘That’s it. No more contact. No more.’ He kept walking as I stopped and turned round.
I needed to get back to the Platform. We had less than twenty-four hours until Peng and the delegation arrived into Heathrow, and we needed to find a way to bug their arrival suite.
*
‘Time for an update briefing,’ said Hattie as I walked into the meeting room. Hattie was in his position at the head of the dining table. Both Robin and Cameron were missing, presumably still out on their ops. ‘Jake, let’s start with you.’
‘Cameron is unhinged,’ said Jake. ‘She punched four hackers in the face this afternoon. One of them made the mistake of asking if she was on her period so he got punched twice.’
I didn’t often agree with Cameron but I thought that was fair enough.
‘They’d all heard of the Tenebris Network. They knew it was a headhunting website on the dark web and that it was causing a bit of a stir. A few thought they were hunting actual heads. Which in fairness is more fitting in terms of the sick shit you find online.’
‘Do any of them know anyone who actually took a job there?’
Jake shook his head. ‘What they did say seems to match Frederick’s intel that Tenebris’s technological set-up points to a London-based operation.’
‘Where’s Cameron now?’
‘Quite a few of the names on the master list of hackers are Americans supposedly living in London – she’s over at the American Embassy making sure we have the most up-to-date information on all of them.’ Jake shook his head. ‘I can’t believe I’m working with someone that makes me the calm, restrained one.’ Despite the darkness in him, Jake worked hard to be a consummate professional. He carefully planned and executed his duties and rarely lost control. If he ever teetered on the edge that was when I reined him in.
‘Keep an eye on her. We don’t want her going rogue.’ Hattie bridged his hands together on the table. ‘My update on the Coyote is that no known aliases – of any of the assassins we have records on – have entered the country in the last week. It was naïve to hope they would be an easy spot. I’m continuing to speak to my sources to see if we can get any clue as to who or wh
ere we should be looking.’ Hattie looked down at his iPad on the table. ‘Now let’s talk about the Pigs.’
‘Robin has successfully installed the listening devices and phone worm at Daddy Pig’s house,’ said Geraint. ‘We’ve started an initial download of their phone and internet history, and the audio is transmitting clearly. He’s just finished Peppa Pig’s house and is on his way to George’s now.’
‘Frederick told me Daddy Pig never went to Birmingham. We need to look into his movements last Tuesday.’
Pixie looked up from her laptop. ‘I’ll go through his mobile phone history. That’ll show us where he really was.’
Hattie turned to me. ‘Tell us about your meeting with Y.’
‘Y stated that we should try and tap Peng’s PA’s Dictaphone as she uses it in all important meetings. He also confirmed that Peng and the delegation will be met in the Heathrow VIP Arrivals Suite by the Chinese Ambassador, who will go over their itinerary for the week and no doubt confirm any extra meetings not on the official schedule. We find out her plans for the whole stay and we have a better chance of working out when the Coyote will be likely to strike. We need to get ears into that room.’
‘G, what are Peng’s flight details?’
There was a pause as Geraint tapped a few buttons on his laptop. ‘Peng’s plane lands at Heathrow Terminal Three tomorrow at 12.35.’
Jake shook his head. ‘It doesn’t leave us much time to do the usual maintenance route and sort out getting in as an approved supplier.’
I had an idea. ‘Peng and the delegation will be put in Suite One, won’t they? The one reserved for heads of state and A-listers?’
Geraint’s fingers flew across his laptop as he scanned the screen. ‘I’ve hacked the bookings spreadsheet for Suite One and Peng is the only one listed for that day.’
‘We have to use a Golden Wolf to get in there,’ I said. ‘One of us can join them as part of their entourage and we fix the room with listening devices. G-Force, scan the list of anyone we have currently abroad that we can get on a flight landing back into Heathrow tomorrow morning.’
Metal Wolves were celebrities. They did the same job as Wolves just with an added sprinkling of star status. Ranked according to their level of fame: Gold, Silver and Bronze. Metal Wolves were sometimes recruited but often made. In exchange for a deal with the devil they were given the career of their dreams – with just a small sideline in serving their country as and when requested.
