Chapter 15
Safe House, Suffolk, 12 April 2016
Southwold was draped in a dense drizzly fog as Sean drove into the town, struggling to read its street signs through the dirty haze. Sean liked Southwold – a quiet Victorian town with a large white lighthouse on a hill that dominated the town, and some of the most picturesque beach views in England. A quirky seaside town with the air of old Britain, an ageing population and a range of boutique shops whose quaintness drew many American tourists.
Sean spotted the street where the safe house was located. It was halfway down a narrow lane with a slight incline and tucked in around a small bend. He made sure to park well away from the house and started his instinctive walk around the area, checking for escape routes and the security of the building if they were compromised. He looked for any telltale signs of people observing the street and the best avenues of approach to the cottage, including the back garden. He made a mental note of what he perceived would be good escape options, then walked up to the front door. Melissa was being protected by an ex-intelligence officer called Jane. It was just after 10pm.
Jane greeted him and took him through a small narrow hallway, down some steps and into a long narrow kitchen. Melissa, dressed in a blue dressing gown, sat at the far end of the small kitchen table with her iPad propped up in front of her next to a jug of sunflowers.
‘Melissa? Hi, I’m Sean.’ He smiled, indicating with a hand that Melissa need not rise. Melissa stood up anyway, shook his hand and moved to the other end of the table. Sean watched her pull out a chair and turn off her iPad. ‘I hope you’ve brought me some good news,’ she said. ‘Take a seat.’
Jane put the kettle on and Sean sat down.
‘Not great news, I’m afraid, and I expect this has been quite traumatic for you for the last few days. I assume Jane has briefed you?’
‘Jane has been terrific,’ Melissa said, leaning forward. ‘And I feel very safe. But no one has told me what the hell is happening other than apparently I’m in some danger now that Alfie’s gone missing. I’d like to get back home soon and can’t stay here forever. What exactly is going on?’
Sean saw Melissa’s eyes waver. She looked fearful despite Jane’s protection.
‘Well, I’ll be frank with you. You won’t be going home anytime soon. There are people out there who are probably trying to find you and I think you know that already. They’re not friendly people and they will do anything they can to get information out of you so as to get to Alfie’s files. They will probably kill you – after they’ve interrogated you.’ Sean paused as Melissa crossed her arms and pushed her chair back, as if to find a safe space. ‘I’m sorry to say there’s also a high chance Alfie has been killed by now.’
Melissa’s eyes welled up and Sean watched as she tried to hold it together, the seriousness of the situation suddenly dawning in her mind. Jane placed a tea pot and cups on the table, smiled at them both and retreated to the lounge.
‘My job is to find him and then figure out what we do from there,’ Sean continued. ‘I need to talk with you to see if there are any clues that might help me to find him. I’m very sorry how this has come about but that’s how it is right now – I need to be quite straight with you.’
Melissa looked run-down and exasperated by it all.
‘Thanks. I know he planned everything to perfection so I don’t understand how this has happened. He only revealed to me what he absolutely needed to during our discussions and was clinical about not giving me too much – just enough to give me credence with my editorial contact. I’m bloody pissed off it’s come to this.’ Sean nodded, sensing her anger.
‘What about you Melissa? How did you get involved in all of this?’
‘We’d been working on this for months. Alfie was an old boyfriend who stayed in touch a lot as our careers and lives sent us different ways. I think he was stuck and came to me looking for help and advice on how to get all these secrets out. He’s unearthed a lot of bad stuff you know.’
‘Do you know how he got hold of all these files at all?’
‘Not fully, no. Although I knew he was hacking into people’s computers I never let on – nor did I ever ask where he got the stuff. I knew it was probably the only way he could get this information. He was furious about some of the things he found and he shared many of the corruption stories with me – knowing full well I’d be furious too.’
‘OK. But how were you going to do this – through your contact? The editor?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Although he was dismissive at first – thinking I was after a quick buck or bonus. He didn’t really get that this was one of the biggest whistle-blowers ever and a huge investigative scoop for the Bureau.’
‘What changed that then? What did you feed him?’
Melissa looked Sean in the eye for the first time. ‘The veracity of the files eventually shocked him. He woke up to it all. Up until then, he had treated me like some dumb bird, thinking I was not serious, and was being a real chauvinist. Listen, I love my job, my friends and I have a comfortable life – but I’m not just some bimbo without brains. And I certainly don’t like people taking the piss like he did. I agreed to help Alfie and that’s what I’ll do – even if he is dead. After all we went through it’s the least I can do.’ She stood up and walked to the kitchen bench, becoming more animated about the story. She turned, arms folded.
‘Alfie gave me a particular file on the Gulf War that could be verified by a certain contact we had in the Bureau’s global network and that’s when the editor finally took me seriously. In fact, the more files I showed him the more active interest he took, pretty much ordering me never to talk to anyone at all about it, except him. He told me how this had to be manoeuvred through the right people and drip-fed into the public domain once Alfie had escaped and was safe.’
Sean sat back and listened, keen not to interject. She was talking and that’s what he wanted. Melissa sat down again, leaning over the table.
‘This was a great opportunity for me. A chance to take a serious investigation right the way through to the end. From cradling the contact, nurturing him, setting it up and profiling it in the right order, right through to publishing it across the global investigative network.’ She sat back, collecting her thoughts, and then waved her hand in the air. ‘In fact, that opportunity still exists, and I’ll bloody well make sure Alfie gets his day.’
‘I think we’ll need to take one step at a time first,’ Sean said. ‘Your life is in danger, don’t forget, and there are a heap of complexities now that we can’t just go off-piste with.’
‘I really don’t give a shit. The more I think about this, the more I realise what Alfie was doing was right and people need to see the corruption existing in our world.’
Sean listened intently. He was intrigued to see her intense emotions and to hear her gutsy, if somewhat misguided, view that she could carry all this off on behalf of Alfie. It was telling to see her true persona leaking out. But he was guarded about how much of this was the truth, and what she was holding back.
‘How much did he confide in you? Did he tell you what he wanted to be done if he went missing?’
Melissa calmed herself, pushed her fingers through her hair and took a few sips of tea. She paused. ‘Never. He was very precise about what he told me or shared with me, and he was always saying he didn’t want me implicated if it all went wrong – he only ever gave me small bits of information or fragmented versions of the full stories. Enough for my editor to check on, but with plenty left out to tease the bastard into wanting more. The editor’s eyes were agog when I watched him reading some of the more damning evidence Alfie had provided. He supposedly had a list of Russian moles too – he was always anxious that someone might be onto him and he gave me a hell of a telling off if I made a mistake. To which I reminded him who was the spy and who wasn’t.’
‘Did you see this list?’
‘No.’
‘And did Alfie ever explain the dangers t
o you? And the measures to be taken to protect yourself? I expect you never ever thought it would come to this?’
‘Really? That’s a stupid question,’ Melissa said angrily. ‘No, I didn’t think it would come to this. But don’t treat me like an imbecile – I’ve lived in the Middle East reporting on terrorism, for fuck’s sake.’
Sean let her vent.
‘Of course we discussed the risks – he explained all that operational security stuff a dozen times. It was quite obvious what he was uncovering would be catastrophic if he was found out – but I never ever thought about him being killed. Nor me being such a target for that matter – it only bloody well dawns on you when the shit hits the fan.’
Melissa stood up and made her way across the room before pouring a glass of water. Sean felt her angst. ‘I feel exhausted by all this, so if you don’t mind I think I’ll turn in.’
Sean nodded, noticing the tears in her eyes. He suspected she might be holding back on the full story and, in truth, he thought Alfie’s lack of security measures was lazy, but now wasn’t the time for candour. He watched Melissa grab her iPad and walk upstairs, weeping as she went.
Sean wondered how Jack had got to Melissa so quickly and what had triggered the alert to get to her. What was he missing here? He discussed this with Jane for a while as well as asking her about the operational security she had put in place. Jane was a redhead in her early thirties with a sharp-witted mind, and totally capable of protecting her charge. Quiet when the necessity arose, she was an accomplished kick-boxing instructor and a committed rower. Sean liked her style and professionalism and she was a good fit for Melissa due to her age and similar personality.
‘So, what have you set up here, Jane? Are we looking good?’
‘Not bad,’ she said. ‘Come and have a look at the monitoring screens in here.’
Sean followed her into the lounge, noticing an array of laptops and seventeen-inch monitors. She’d set up a full command and control set-up for intruder detection and alerts. ‘Cameras and movement detectors?’ he asked.
‘Exactly. I’ve got covert cameras covering all the approaches to the house and each of them has got passive infrared motion detection too. They’ll alarm on the screens and on my mobile phone. I’ve also set up a few active infrared beams along the fence and the doors will withstand brute-force attacks for a few vital minutes.’
‘Good – what’s the plan if you’re compromised?’
‘Well, this will obviously come in handy for a start if I need it,’ Jane said, showing Sean her nine-millimetre Beretta pistol. ‘But we also have a grade-three cellar designed to withstand a direct attack, plus all the normal panic alarms back to the control room.’
‘Response time?’
‘Assured at less than ten minutes for armed response – and enough steel to survive an onslaught.’
‘Great,’ Sean said, impressed with Jane’s meticulous approach. ‘Sounds like we have a good plan then. We need to stay sharp on this one. I have no idea what we’re up against.’
*
Sean didn’t sleep much that night. He thought about the entire case and how he could conclude it – he knew he didn’t want to press Melissa too early, but she was his only human lead. He had to develop a rapport with her to gain her full trust. He could see she was sharp, intelligent, had a good deal of guts, was very articulate and quite animated when angry.
He got a few hours blackout interspersed with his normal traumatic dreams and awoke wondering where the hell he was. He could have fought his way back to sleep at 5am but, instead, chose to clear his head with a morning run.
The early morning sea air was invigorating as he jogged down the hill past the huge white lighthouse that overlooked the idyllic sands of Southwold. Only the circling gulls gave him company as he saw the sea mist rise in the distance, giving a glimpse of the long Victorian pier. He had lots of thinking to do and running was the best way for him to find time when he was alone and refreshed to do so.
He felt alive and invigorated now that he had something to go on and felt certain he could begin to crack some of the clues in the coming days.
He glided down the hill and did an about-turn at the end of the road, increasing his speed vigorously before hitting the sandy beach to continue past the pastel-coloured beach huts. Once he was on the beach he pushed himself hard to get his heart rate up and started some speed training along the sands. In between he rested and breathed deeply as he looked out to the sea, which was like a millpond. The tide lapped at his feet.
It was a glorious place to recuperate after the hellhole of the Kabul prison, and he reflected on his thoughts about what might come next after this bizarre episode in his life. He did some stretches.
The only way out for Melissa was for him to find Alfie. He had carefully quizzed her the night before. He had probed deeply into her psyche and listened to her closely, as well as watching her eye movement and body language. She didn’t seem to be lying, or indeed to harbour any traits of deception. He felt she was secure, didn’t like being mucked about and was very ambitious. She seemed responsible and loyal, but he had to probe further to see what else she might be hiding. Purposefully, or not.
He considered hypnotism as well as deep interrogation techniques that might reveal any hidden clues she didn’t know she had in her memory.
He jogged slowly, wondering what the hell had happened to Alfie and tried again to put himself in his mind, thinking through what kind of plan he would have hatched if he had suddenly been taken. How would he have ensured his secrets were still exposed? How would he have used Melissa for his plans? What type of trail would he have left?
A lot went on in his mind on that morning run. He wanted to ensure his own trail was covered and reminded himself to ask Jane what she had done to make sure Melissa had left no electronic footprint by communicating from the safe house on social media or the internet. He also decided he needed to get more information from Melissa and really get to the forgotten facts of what she and Alfie had done up to the day that he went missing. He had a plan to explore deep inside her memory but needed to sharpen up on the techniques he had been taught a couple of years ago on agent interrogation using neuro-linguistic programming.
He decided that he would take Melissa and Jane to France the following day to start to find out what had happened to Alfie. Sean wanted it that way.
The run back up the hill and through the narrow streets was a killer – and the chilled air hurt his lungs. Sean pushed himself hard, as he always did at the end of his run. He arrived back at the gate to the cottage totally exhausted.
Jane was up and on the computer in the lounge when he walked back in at 7am. It was a couple of hours later before Melissa surfaced, by which time Sean had conjured up his plan for the day and how he would tackle the French part of the job.
*
Melissa sat in the kitchen at her iPad having made herself some tea and toast. She had had a restless night ruminating. She was incensed at having had her life tipped upside down and that Alfie was likely to have been killed, with no worthwhile ending for him. She hoped deep down he was still alive. An element of determination gripped her when she looked on Twitter and other internet sites and saw no mention whatsoever of Alfie’s disappearance, knowing immediately how government machinery was making sure nothing existed of this sad episode. It compelled her to act.
‘How did she know she was safe?’ she began thinking. ‘Who is this Sean bloke anyway? Who can help me now?’ she wondered. She checked her Twitter account for activity before deciding to craft a message to her most trusted contact in the police. She had first met the policewoman as a paid source of information when she had investigated how a lorry load of files had gone missing from Scotland Yard – all linked to paedophile rings in London going back to the ’80s. Melissa had been adept at gaining her trust and nurturing her to reveal the extent of the cover-up from within. She sat and smiled before checking that Sean and Jane were still in the living room.
*
Sean spent the rest of the morning contacting a number of his old team, asking them to be ready to move to support his urgent task. Whilst he felt this task would not need too many people at this stage, he needed to line them all up just in case. He was aware that the Met Police would also be searching for Alfie, but judged they probably had very few leads, and he wondered if anyone else had beat him to any other crucial clues beyond the cottage near Collioure in south-east France.
Melissa returned to the kitchen wearing a turquoise dress cut just above the knee. Sean couldn’t help noticing for the first time how attractive she was and noticed she had put make-up on. He was immediately drawn to her tanned legs as she glided across the kitchen to sit down in the same place she had sat the evening before. Her long dark hair was flowing, and Sean felt her allure.
They sat and chatted. She explained who the editor was and how they had a plan for releasing Alfie’s files. Only he knew the full detail, according to Melissa, but Sean doubted that to be the reality. She was too trusting of the editor and had little concept of the politics involved when a paper deemed it fair game to release such files. He would have had to have consulted with lawyers, chairmen and key owners to make sure they had a watertight plan, just as they did when Snowden came to their lair. This was one avenue for a leak that could have led to Alfie’s kidnap.
Sean then questioned Melissa about how she knew Alfie had gone missing.
Failsafe Query Page 11
