by L J Morris
He ran the other two words through a quick search but they were too common and threw up hundreds of thousands of hits. He set up a search to look for Apocalypse and Lone Star in the same sentence as Kraken, and another search to look for Lone Star in the same sentence as the six-figure number. He set the searches running through normal internet sites, conspiracy theory sites, and UK and US government networks. This was going to take time; all he could do was check back regularly to see if anything had been flagged up. He sent an email back to Carter and arranged a meeting.
Carter left the hotel and set off for the nearby park. They could have met at the hotel, or Kinsella’s flat, but it was better to vary the locations. Meeting up too often would be a change in their behaviour, something any watchers would be looking for. They wouldn’t be overheard in the park and could see if anyone was watching them. Carter knew it was unlikely but he wasn’t willing to risk it.
He walked to the middle of the park and sat on a bench near the boating lake. He took some bread from his jacket and threw it to the ducks, just an old man passing the time. Kinsella arrived and placed a newspaper between them. ‘Afternoon, Simeon.’
‘Afternoon, Danny. You got anything for me?’
‘There’s an envelope in the newspaper, all the details are in there. I didn’t want to email it, it’s got keywords in that could show up in a search. I’m still working on the new stuff.’
Carter picked up the newspaper and tucked it in his pocket. ‘Anything we should be worried about?’
‘Not yet. The map is a test facility that hasn’t been used much recently. I’ve checked all the government agencies and there’s info on Kraken, Quinn and Bazarov but nothing to link them all together. There is mention of Bazarov having a contact within the government, some kind of mole, but no clues to the contacts identity. He just has the code name Vadim, we need to watch for him, other than that, nothing.’
‘You need to keep looking, we can’t afford to be blindsided by something we’ve missed. McGill and Sinclair are depending on us to pull them out if it really hits the fan.’
‘I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve got something.’ Kinsella stood up and shook Carter’s hand. ‘Take care, Simeon.’
‘You too, Danny.’ Carter walked off in the opposite direction to Kinsella and back to his hotel.
When he got to his room he took off his coat and opened the envelope Kinsella had given him. It was all pretty mundane, background stuff, nothing that would help Ali and Frank in the field. The talk of a mole within the security services was worrying. He’d had to deal with that kind of thing in the past and it never ended well. He would have to find out who it was just so he knew who might come after them.
All he could do for McGill and Sinclair was tell them what he had and get them to question Quinn about it. It was looking like that would be the only way to get the information Lancaster needed. He opened his laptop and sent an email from his anonymous account. All it said was:
Map is Leatherback Cay off Belize. Used as test facility for K. Approach Q and question.
He settled in his recliner and turned on the TV.
Danny Kinsella got back to his flat and checked the hits his searches had thrown up – there were still thousands. It was going to be a long, long night. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat down to analyse the data.
* * *
In another air-conditioned equipment room, on the other side of the Atlantic, young FBI analyst Robert Tyler sat at his work station and began a search through the picture databases to try and find a match for the photo he’d been given. It wasn’t great quality and was from a camera in a shop across the street from a crime scene. It showed a blonde woman getting into a motorhome in the car park of a motel. He had cleaned up the picture as much as he could and was now running it through facial recognition software. If the woman had been photographed by any government agency in the past, he should get a match.
Chapter 10
McGill switched off his satellite phone and put it in his daysack. He wanted to keep it with him in case Carter gave the order to abort the mission. He wasn’t happy with the way things were going, they were pushing it too far and taking too many risks. There was no way Sinclair could pump Quinn for information about the island without giving the game away. They would have to gamble on Quinn being involved only under duress or unwilling to see Sinclair get hurt. It was a big gamble.
The previous night’s events could blow Ali’s cover as it was, without inviting more shit to rain down on them. His plan for today was to get back to the house and keep an eye on things. In fact, that was his plan for the rest of this mission, everything else could take a backseat.
Bazarov and Quinn were due back at the house in a few hours and McGill wanted to be within reach. The body floating in the pool was going to cause an extreme reaction of some sort; there was just no way of knowing what it would be. The arms dealer would go for either Sinclair or his surviving guard. If he went for Ali, McGill had to be in the compound ready to jump in and pull her out. Bringing out Quinn, and taking down Bazarov too, would be a bonus, but not his priority.
If the Russian believed Ali’s story that she’d slept through the whole thing and it must have been an accident, then the other guard was going to have a bad day. Hungover and unable to explain how his buddy had ended up face down in the pool, McGill was sure that Bazarov would be an unforgiving boss. Whichever way it went, it wasn’t going to be a good day for someone.
McGill gathered his kit together and put it all in his daysack, filled up his water pouch and grabbed the ghillie suit. He had two hours before it got light and he wanted to be in position within the compound by then. Getting in wouldn’t be a problem, Ivan number one was dead in the pool and number two was passed out drunk and stoned. Once the rest of the Russian’s private army came back however, staying hidden would be a problem.
Sinclair sat in her room, going over her story in her head. She had to be able to repeat it, without any mistakes, under pressure. If Bazarov got violent, she had to force herself not to react like a cage fighter. She had to give the impression that she was frightened, weak and incapable of being involved. The question was, how far did she let it go? At what point did she accept that she was in real danger and protect herself? It would be a tough call but something that she’d had to do in the past. She got into bed and tried her best to get a couple of hours sleep.
McGill arrived at the compound fence and climbed over in the same place as he had the previous night. He found a spot behind the house, where the vegetation matched his ghillie suit, and lay down. He pulled out his binoculars and checked his line of sight. From where he was he could see across the pool to the top of the driveway, and into the kitchen and living areas at the back of the house. He got as comfortable as he could and settled in for a long wait.
As the sun began to shine through the gap in Sinclair’s bedroom window, her door was kicked open and Bazarov burst in. ‘Get dressed and get downstairs now.’
Sinclair sat up, shocked. She’d been caught unawares. ‘What’s going on?’
Bazarov put one knee on the bed and brought his face close to hers. ‘I said, now.’ He stormed out of the room and back down the stairs.
This looked bad. Sinclair considered making a bolt for it. She could climb down from the window and run but her chances of success were slim. She threw on some clothes and went down the stairs, her mind racing, going through her story again.
Quinn was sitting at the dining table, Bazarov stood next to her. He pointed at the table and looked at Sinclair. ‘Sit down.’
Sinclair pulled out the chair closest to her. As she sat down, Quinn held her hand. ‘Are you okay, Ali?’
‘I’m fine. What’s going on?’
‘One of the guards is dead. In the pool.’
‘What?’ Sinclair turned round to try and get a view through the side window but couldn’t see anything. ‘How did it happen?’
Bazarov slammed his hand down on the table
, which made both women jump. ‘You tell me, you were here.’
‘I don’t know what happened. I barely left the house yesterday.’
‘Tell me exactly what you did.’ He sat down at the head of the table.
Sinclair looked at Quinn; her friend was frightened, it showed in her eyes. Sinclair gripped her hand. ‘I spent most of the day just hanging in here. I did go for a quick run and a swim in the afternoon but the guards were staring at me. One of them came over and watched me in the pool, he creeped me out. I spent the rest of the day inside.’
Quinn jabbed a finger at Bazarov. ‘I told you not to leave Ali here with those pigs.’
‘It still doesn’t explain how he ended up dead.’
‘I told you, I don’t know. It sounded like they were having a party when I went to bed.’
Quinn pointed at Bazarov with her head. ‘His other goon was passed out when we got back.’
‘Well there you go. He must have got drunk and fallen in.’
Bazarov stood up and walked into the kitchen. He opened a drawer and took out a twelve-inch carving knife. ‘Okay. I’m only going to ask you one more time then I’m going to start cutting. How did he end up in the pool?’
‘I don’t know. Really, I don’t. Jo, tell him I wouldn’t do anything like that.’
‘She wouldn’t, Viktor, please believe her.’
Bazarov grabbed Sinclair’s wrist and pushed her hand flat on the table. He positioned the knife on her little finger and gradually applied pressure. The razor-sharp blade sliced through the first layers of skin and blood began to seep from the wound.
Quinn held on to Sinclair’s other hand. ‘Please, Viktor, don’t.’
Sinclair’s eyes were wide with fear, her voice faltered. She pulled her hand out of Quinn’s grip. ‘I don’t know. I’ve already told you. Please.’ If Bazarov didn’t back off now Sinclair would strike; he would be dead before he hit the floor.
The Russian pulled the knife away and threw it onto the table. ‘Stay inside.’ He slowly turned and left the house.
‘Are you okay, Ali?’
Sinclair checked her finger. ‘I’m fine. Who the hell is that guy, Jo, what have you got yourself into?’
‘I can’t tell you, it’s better for you that way.’
Sinclair had decided that the only way they were going to get the information they needed was from Quinn herself, despite the risks. ‘I’m your friend, whatever it is you can tell me, I can help.’
‘Not this time, Ali, this is too big even for you.’
Sinclair sensed this was the opportunity she had been waiting for, Quinn was ready to talk. ‘Jo, there are things you don’t know about me, things you need to know, I can help you.’
Quinn opened a cupboard and took out a small first-aid kit. ‘Let’s get your finger patched up first.’
Sinclair looked out of the back window and ran her fingers through her hair. McGill saw the signal and let out the deep breath he’d been holding in; she’d pulled it off. He retrained his binoculars on the pool and watched as Bazarov’s men pulled the body of the guard out of the water. Bazarov appeared and stopped beside them for a minute, issuing orders. As his men carried the body away, Bazarov walked over to the bungalow and went inside. He wasn’t happy, his body language gave that away. McGill knew the only reason someone like Bazarov would let Quinn and Sinclair live is because he needed them. Sinclair wasn’t out of the woods yet, Bazarov had plans for her, and McGill wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure she was safe.
Quinn and Sinclair sat close to each other at the dining table. They held each other’s hands and, even though they were alone in the house, talked in whispers.
‘This is going to be hard for you to hear, Jo, but there’s no easy way to say it. I was sent here by the British Secret Intelligence Service to find out what you’re up to.’
Quinn pulled away from Sinclair and tried to let go of her hands but Sinclair held them tight. Quinn looked around as if she expected someone to be watching. ‘What? I thought you were my friend.’
‘I am your friend, Jo, that’s why I’m here. Not for them or anyone else. I’m here to help you.’
Tears flowed down Quinn’s face and dripped from her chin. ‘You don’t understand what’s at stake.’
‘Then tell me. I know who Bazarov is and MI6 know you met with him in London. That’s why they sent me here.’
‘But you escaped from prison, how did they find you?’
‘It’s a long story but an old friend of mine is here as my backup, he always knew where I was.’
Quinn looked down at the table, sobbing for what seemed like an age, then looked back up at Sinclair. ‘It’s my kids, he’s got my kids.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t be involved in something like this. I knew you had to be under some kind of threat. What about Liam?’
‘Liam’s dead. They killed him to warn me that they meant business.’
Quinn was trembling, close to breaking down completely, but Sinclair had to keep pushing. ‘I’m so sorry, Jo, I really am. What does Bazarov want from you? Is it to do with Kraken?’
Quinn looked surprised. ‘They know already?’
‘It’s the thing they’re interested in the most.’
‘Yes, it’s the Kraken system. Bazarov is making me break in to it, to give him control.’
‘Jesus, Jo. Are you telling me he’s planning to nuke somewhere?’
Quinn could only nod. Sinclair tried to understand what she had just heard. This was much bigger than anyone had thought. MI6 were trying to stop him from selling secrets, not setting off a nuke. ‘Look, this can’t happen. I have to get a message to Frank. They need to take Bazarov out.’
‘No. He’ll kill my kids.’ Quinn was beginning to panic.
‘You’re going to have to trust me on this. I can get you out of here and we can get your kids back. Do you know where they are?’
Quinn nodded. ‘They’re on the Cay. He lets me talk to them sometimes. His men are holding some of my engineers down there. They’ve been setting up the equipment and systems.’
‘Is he ready to go?’ Sinclair needed some idea of how much time they had.
‘He can’t launch anything without the right authorisations. I can’t get him past that. I don’t know how he plans to foil the security blocks.’
‘Where did you go yesterday?’
‘My office in Houston. He made me organise transportation for men and equipment he wanted sent to the Cay.’
‘What kind of equipment?’
Quinn shook her head and was becoming more agitated. ‘I don’t know, Ali. He doesn’t fill me in on the details. He just said it would be in shipping containers and his men had gone to organise it.’ Quinn’s voice grew louder as emotion got the better of her. ‘I’m not in on his plans.’
Sinclair’s voice was quiet and calm, ‘I know you’re not, Jo. I just need to know as much information as you can give me. Okay?’
‘I’m sorry, Ali. It’s just ...’ Quinn stopped, unable to finish her sentence, not wanting to think of the consequences of what was happening.
‘Jo, I need to know if Bazarov is planning to go to the island himself.’
Quinn cleared her throat and blew her nose on a tissue. ‘Yes, he wants me there too.’
‘That’s good, Jo. It’ll help us get to the kids. We just need to sit tight.’
‘Can you really help me, Ali?’
‘I promise I’ll do everything I can for you. You’ll get your kids back. But you’ll have to be strong for a little while longer. Do you trust me?’
A brief hint of a smile crossed Quinn’s face. ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
‘That’s good.’ Sinclair past Quinn a fresh tissue. ‘Now, you’ll have to carry on doing what he wants, it’ll take time to put a plan in place.’
Quinn wiped her eyes. ‘I’ll try.’
* * *
Bazarov sat in his bungalow reading the file on his laptop. He’d spent the day checking up on Sinclair,
she was ex-British Army. Served in Afghanistan and Iraq. Imprisoned in Mexico and escaped after two years. Her story checked out with every one of his contacts, but there was something about her, something he wasn’t sure about. He knew some of his men were complete fuck-ups at times, but getting drunk and falling in the pool wasn’t something they would do.
The sun threw long shadows as it slid down towards the horizon. He shut the lid of the laptop and picked up a glass of whiskey from the table. As he looked out of the window towards the pool he stopped, the glass halfway to his lips. The low, evening sun was shining through the window on the thin layer of dust that coated the bungalow’s wooden floor. He put down his glass and got on his hands and knees, his face close to the floor. In the dust, picked out by the sun, were footprints. Not just his booted prints, but smaller imprints of bare feet. Someone had been in the bungalow while he was away.
Chapter 11
Danny Kinsella sat in his flat and stared at his screens. After several searches had yielded nothing, he’d finally come across a file on the US Defence Department’s servers titled: Apocalypse Protocol. It made for pretty unbelievable reading. He printed out the main points and sent a text message to arrange another meeting, it was getting late, but Carter would want to see this. Kinsella knew that Carter worried a great deal about the people he had in the field and did everything he could to protect them. The death of Danny’s father had affected the old man more than he’d ever admitted. He grabbed his coat and left for the park.
Carter was sitting on the bench next to the boating lake when Kinsella arrived. He quickly looked along the path but there was no one else in sight. He sat down on the bench and handed Carter the cup of coffee he’d bought on his way in. ‘Evening, Simeon. Milk and two sugars as usual, keep the cold away.’
‘Thanks, Danny.’ He took a sip, steam misting up his glasses. ‘You find something?’
‘I found something that could be big, but hopefully it isn’t yet.’ He put the pages he’d printed down on the bench. ‘I printed out the main points.’
