The rest of the list consisted of the general and the four men either side of him. They were sharp, focused, and not covered in women. There were also four men standing in a loose square which widened as we came in and held the Chinese Type-64. These were designed to be a suppressed weapon and showed that Delta had some serious fucking contacts. So, ten targets in the room with many other unknowns in unpredictable states of disrepair due to narcotics and alcohol. This wasn’t the best plan we’d ever had, not by a long way – like a marathon distance…
When the bouncer finished speaking the general remained silent, watching Jacob, who stood in a puddle of tranquillity watching in return. The general smiled, a long crocodile creature that revealed gold teeth. “You think you can do business with me, English white boy?” He might look like an ox, but the man sounded like his education came from a far better British school than either me or Jacob had attended.
“Yes,” Jacob said.
The general raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue, but Jacob remained mute. I ached to interfere to move things along, to get the fuck out of the building, but these men were sizing each other up and I couldn’t afford to draw attention. The woman though, she shifted, sensing the same tug and pull of energy between the men.
In incremental movements the general shifted forwards, leaning his elbows on his knees and continuing to watch Jacob, who remained still.
The general grinned and pointed to the smaller man. “You, you are like the cobra, coiled and ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Sit, English man and talk to me about who you represent.”
Delta flicked his fingers and a woman rose from a nearby armchair. Jacob moved towards it and sat. I took up position at his left shoulder, hands – relaxed – at my sides.
“I represent an organisation who wants someone you can find for us and we’ll pay the kind of prices that will put you into power – permanently,” Jacob said, keeping his voice soft and forcing the others to quieten down if the general wanted to hear.
“Why would you pay? If you are so ‘all powerful’ why can’t you retrieve this person yourselves?” Delta asked not taking his eyes off Jacob’s face. I had a horrible moment of Clark’s fleshy skull superimposing itself and I wanted to puke.
Jacob leaned forwards, meeting the general stare for stare. “Why would we sully ourselves with Boko Haram? Of course, if you can’t get what we are looking for our money can go to their cause rather than yours.” A hiss went through the room. The Islamic extremists were not popular among those who wanted to make real money in the DRC. Boko Haram spread hate like a virus and violence like confetti. A man like the general would not want to give them more leverage in a country he needed to keep secular in order to gain power.
The general’s face twisted into a sneer. “You are threatening me?”
Jacob sat back and shrugged. “No, I am merely informing you of how important this person is to us.”
“This woman is generating a great deal of interest,” Delta said. “I thought to keep her for myself.” We hadn’t mentioned gender, so we knew Delta had information from Clark.
“If you do keep her, we will be displeased,” Jacob said in the same quiet voice.
The tension in the room notched up.
The general’s sneer turned into a frown and I itched to grab the Glock. “And who exactly do you represent, white boy?”
“Room 39.”
Most of the people in the room laughed, not understanding. The woman who watched me not Jacob visibly blanched and the general grew very still. “Why would they want you, white boy?” General Delta asked, matching Jacob’s quiet and now intimate tone. I had a sudden flash of the DRC’s future with this man in charge, it looked scary. He wasn’t just violent, he had a brain and the education to match, if he took control of the government and its information very little would stop him becoming another African dictator. In his early thirties, he had the time to make it happen. Maybe Brant’s idea of putting him down would be the wise move after all.
Jacob cocked his head a little and said, “They use me because they trust me, and I can move around this world without the same level of scrutiny other races provoke.”
The general chuckled. “It’s still a white man’s world.”
“For the moment,” Jacob shrugged, “but it won’t be forever, and I plan on belonging to the winning side. It might be wise for you to court their services as well.”
“What use have I for North Korea?” the general asked.
“The same use you have for the wealth of South Korea, I should imagine. If you help us find our target and negotiate a peace, we will view it as an act of friendship. When the time comes for us to act, which it will, our friends will be protected,” Jacob said.
I wanted to stare at him in disbelief. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he actually worked for the North Koreans. The woman I watched instead made it clear to me that she believed every word.
“I want US dollars and the transfer fee should also be in US dollars. Boko Haram might be jungle rats gone mad, but they have power in the regions they control, which does not come cheap.”
“Of course, and I can offer weapons as a sweetener,” Jacob said.
The general nodded and sat back. He gestured to the woman I’d watched throughout the negotiations. “Drinks for my guest.” He ordered this without looking in her direction and with a click of his fingers. The utter contempt in her gaze might be hidden from her ‘employer’ but not from me.
Jacob asked for water and I decided it might be wise to find out a little more about the impromptu waitress. I left my post and followed her to a bar in the corner, making certain to stand so I could keep an eye on Jacob. He talked to the general about arms shipments.
“Can I help?” I offered, speaking English.
Her dark eyes lifted to mine and she smiled. “I only speak French,” she said in French.
I arched an eyebrow. “We both know that’s bollocks,” I said in English once more.
The eyes, almond shaped and highlighted by the least amount of makeup possible, narrowed. “Fuck off.” Her accent had an unmistakable burr even in those two words.
“CIA?” I murmured.
She drew in a sharp breath. “I have no idea –”
I placed a hand on her arm. “I understand. Meet us? Please? Perhaps we can help.”
The general bellowed about her flirting with the help, meaning me, and she slid away. I’d either made a terrible mistake or we were about to find an ally in all this mess. Either way, it would mean movement towards our goal. Jacob referencing Room 39 made me twitchy, but anything about North Korea made me twitchy. It did make me wonder how much Jacob still kept to himself about the original SAS mission and he performed his role with too much ease, the entire set up turned my guts into a washing machine on fast spin.
The woman gave Jacob his sparkling water and took the general’s empty beer bottle, returning to the bar and me. As she brushed past, she whispered, “Romero’s Lounge, 23:00 hours, bring your boss, I don’t deal with lackeys.”
I almost laughed. “Oh, she’ll love you,” I murmured. Romero’s Lounge happened to be in the hotel we’d already booked.
The woman’s eyes widened a little, but she returned to her post with the beer in hand. I returned to Jacob. “Then we meet tomorrow and you bring Boko Haram’s envoy.”
The general nodded. “Until tomorrow. For now, you are welcome to enjoy the best Kinshasa has to offer, on the house of course.”
Jacob smiled. “Of course, General Delta.”
It took another 30 minutes to clear the building and my nerves made each one stretch out to last at least an hour. By the time Jacob managed to field the many offers he had from the women, sweat must have stained every atom in my being and the moment we were out of sight of the doorway and back in the truck with the air con going, we both slumped.
I checked my watch. “Come on, we’ve a long night ahead and I need to speak to Brant.”
<
br /> Jacob rested his head against the window of the passenger side. “Damn that was hard work.”
I mulled over the rights and wrongs of what I wanted to say but decided straight forwards would be best. “Why Room 39? You didn’t even blink. Why didn’t you tell me you knew for certain Boko Haram had her?”
Jacob rolled his head enough to look at me from the side. “You don’t trust me?”
I gripped the steering wheel, the need to be honest warring with the need to keep my lover happy. Common sense overrode the romantic. “I don’t trust what you’ve become, Jacob. I watched you. The moment you walked through that doorway I no longer knew who you were. It shocked me.”
He reached out and clasped my knee. “I’m the man you knew.”
I turned to face him. “No, you aren’t. I’m not sure where he is but I only get glimpses of him. Your team is dead. Clark is dead. We have to find a woman who is being held by Boko Haram and you are dealing with a man who scares me as if he is nothing more than a mosquito that needs squashing but you’ll do it in your own time.”
Jacob rolled his head back and closed his eyes. “Would you rather have me panic and get us both killed?”
“No, I’d rather feel like I can trust you.”
I watched his jaw tense repeatedly. “I need to speak to Brant.”
I huffed, saddened by his lack of communication but not really surprised. The wrongness inside Jacob fed into my anxiety, a spreading awareness the man I knew struggled under a weight morphing and controlling him, twisting him into something unnerving. When he’d made love to me the night before the world aligned with the planets and stars to create the perfect template for my future. Now the real world wanted its payment for such peace.
I sighed and made a decision. Still watching the door of the club, I began to speak about why I’d left the Regiment.
13
“The last time we were in Syria on an active op with MI6 tagging along in the shape of Clark the money we were supposed to give to the rebels fighting ISIS came up short, by a lot. I confronted Clark and he denied knowing anything, pushing the blame firmly onto our team. I reported it to the Head Shed back in Hereford. We all know some money goes missing when we go on these missions, but we’d lost thousands. Someone from Whitehall sent me an email I couldn’t trace, telling me to forget about the missing money and I’d be compensated for my memory loss.”
Jacob turned to me again. “SIS tried to bribe you?”
“Someone in SIS tried to bribe me. They need boots on the ground. Regiment and probably Paratroopers who they can trust because we’re the first inside any conflict region in the world. Even before the Americans most of the time.” I kept my tone measured but my heart raced. The moment I confessed all this Jacob would be implicated, would know about my downfall and therefore his career could end as abruptly as mine if anyone found out.
“You didn’t take the bribe?”
I looked at him. “It was a lot of money. I thought I could trace it back, use it to implicate them. Keep you and the others clean…”
“That was beyond naive.”
I still gripped the wheel but looked down between my knees feeling weak. “I know. It gets worse. The money kept coming and Clark began actively using me on missions to move drugs, guns, and more money to various groups inside the countries we infiltrated. People left our custody, though he knew not to trust me with that, and people weren’t where our int put them. I kept records of everything. All on what I thought was a secure server.”
“Jesus, Mac. Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
I glanced at him. “Why do you think? I didn’t want to risk your career or your life. I loved you, Jacob. Even though I knew I could never admit it aloud, I loved you and wanted to protect you, but I also loved the Regiment and don’t want it used like this. I don’t want good men giving up their lives to a few corrupt ruperts and spies in Whitehall. I collected all the evidence I could and went to Benjamin. I thought he’d believe me.”
Jacob laughed, a brittle sound of horror gone bad. “Really? You honestly thought he was the best rupert to talk to? Mac, he might be a damned good commanding officer as far as it goes but the man is Company through and through. He’d never believe you.”
I nodded. “I know that now. The moment I walked into his office I knew I’d been had. I’d sent an email after the job in Somalia when we retrieved those British sailors from the pirates –”
Jacob chuckled making me stop. “I almost kissed you on that trip when you dug me out of that fucking swamp.”
“Wish you had,” I confessed before returning to my story. “I walked into Major Benjamin’s office and Clark was there, with his boss Franklin. They had intercepted my email and knew why I wanted the meeting. Clark must have suspected something. All the evidence I’d collected was gone but the money in various off-shore accounts remained.”
“They set you up?”
“Yep. They were clever though. Made sure I wasn’t RTUed, made very sure I would never be trusted by anyone or permitted to speak to you or the team again. They even managed to take the money while giving me my freedom. They fucked me completely without locking me up or giving me a way to fight. If I said anything to you or the others, they’d take your careers as well. They made that very clear.”
“So Benjamin is corrupt as well?” Jacob asked.
I shook my head. “No, he was ordered out of his office while Clark and Franklin took me apart. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it, and knowing I could walk away with my freedom rather than face life in Belmarsh prison, it seemed the best I could hope for, they also threatened to take you down as well if I didn’t co-operate,” I added, the words a final and damning confession.
“Mac… I would have stood by you,” Jacob whispered, taking hold of my shoulder and turning me towards him.
I couldn’t meet his gaze. “I know. That’s why I couldn’t see you, speak to you, warn you. I dared not contact you in case they were watching and it drew unwanted attention.” I managed to look in his face at last. “I couldn’t risk you finding out or being implicated just because I had crumbled and reached out for the only good thing left in my miserable life.”
His hand snaked around the back of my neck and he drew me close, pressing his soft lips against mine for the first time in far too many hours. Losing him had cost me far more than losing my reputation. I groaned and clutched at his wrists where his palms cupped my jaw. The kiss turned heated, desperate and Jacob growled in need. The taste of him drove me crazy and I suddenly wondered what his cock would feel like in my mouth. How it would taste. If the skin over the head really was soft against my tongue. Would I like the taste of him? What if I didn’t? What if I puked the moment he stuck it in my mouth?
Jacob drew back. “Okay, what happened, Mac?”
“What?” I asked, panic taking over. I wanted to retreat. I really needed to retreat. I started the car. He reached across the console and switched the engine off.
“What happened just now? You were matching me then you vanished, and it felt off, different. What happened?”
My cheeks burned. “I wanted to suck your cock but then I panicked.”
He laughed. A sound so free of artifice that it made me grin. “I tell you what, old man, I’ll suck you off first and give you what you need, then we’ll swap if you’re ready.”
“Doesn’t seem fair.”
“You taught me how to survive in a desert, Mac. I think it’s fair if I teach you how to give head.”
The weight of the evening with General Delta and my confession lifted and we were just two men who cared about each other. Jacob stroked my chest. “I need you to understand that nothing, not even this stupidity, will ever come between us, but you might not feel the same way when I tell you what I’ve done.”
“You believe me? That I’m not corrupt?” I asked.
He bumped his forehead against mine. “Mac, you are many things, but not corrupt. Bloody stupid perhaps, but no
t corrupt.”
“You understand why I left you?” I asked.
He drew back, a weighted sadness in those soft eyes. “I understand but you should have trusted I could handle it.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
My phone rang. “Brant,” I said when I fished it out of my pocket.
“You know Lydia might be able to find the evidence you lost,” Jacob mumbled as I picked up.
I glanced at him as I said, “Ma’am.”
“Are the local police here just stupid or plain corrupt?” she snapped down the line.
“I’m guessing they don’t want to investigate who killed Clark?” I asked.
She huffed. “Even the fucking consulate is being quiet about the repatriation of his body. Tell me you have a lead?”
“We have a couple,” I said. “Jacob’s Oscar winning performance has ensured we have a meeting with Boko Haram’s man on the ground doing the negotiation for the scientist and we have a meeting in an hour with you at Romero’s Lounge, possibly with the CIA.”
Jacob frowned, not understanding. Brant made a happy noise. “Come and get us.”
Romero’s Lounge happened to be a top end bar in an exclusive, very white, hotel in the best part of the city. I’d been there once before with Danny and his black skin stood out almost as much as my working-class background. Brant, however, looked like she owned the place despite being in jeans and a shirt, while Lydia ghosted her in full soldier mode.
Jacob and I were also guarding our commanding officer’s back but not from possible assassins, more from drunk overpaid business types who saw a challenge when she walked in. The next man who offered to buy her a drink would find themselves pushed through the very expensive fish tank behind the bar.
Ultimate Sanction Page 10
