High Pressure

by Sam Blake

  ‘I’ve seen her. She found Steve. She’s worried sick about you.’

  Marissa burst into tears. Mike moved in closer and put his arm around her, kissing the top of her head.

  ‘Don’t worry, my love, you’ll see her soon, we’ll work it out.’ He pulled away from her, and lifted her chin. ‘I’d be happier if you weren’t in London, though. Is there somewhere safe you can go – maybe in Ireland? Somewhere you can hole up for a bit. I don’t want to put out any markers that you’re alive just yet, and until we get that stick opened, we don’t know how far-reaching his network is. Like you said, Reiss Chanin works in cybersecurity, he’ll be monitoring everything. He’s a very clever guy.’

  Mar nodded slowly. ‘There’s a house, across from my parents’ house. A friend of ours lives there, Cara. She’s an artist, but she’s visiting her daughter in New Zealand. She emailed me to say she was leaving. She just wanted me to check in when I went back to visit Dad. I know where the key is.’

  ‘Your parents’ house will be an obvious location – can you see it from this house? Would you be able to see if anyone came looking for you there?’

  ‘Yes, but Reiss doesn’t know where I’m from exactly. I’ve always told him it’s Wexford town. He wouldn’t be able to find our house, it’s way out on the coast, off the main road down a track you can barely fit a car down. There’s not really an address, it’s just O’Brien’s, Ballycastle. Cara’s house is opposite, it’s the same.’

  ‘If you’re sure, that sounds perfect. But you need to assume Reiss might try to follow you if he gets the faintest hint you might be still alive. Be ready to leave if anything looks strange. You can get the first flight in the morning. I’ll get you one of the kids’ old phones for you to take with you. Pick up a SIM card when you get to Ireland, but only use it if you absolutely have to, and only text me, OK?’

  ‘I’ll need my passport. It’s in a bag under the stairs at home.’

  ‘I’ll organise that. And I’ll take you off the missing persons list so it doesn’t send up a flag in the airport. You’d better stay here tonight.’

  ‘But the children will see me.’

  He shook his head. ‘There’s an en suite in my room. Em’s gone clubbing, she won’t be back until the early hours, and then she’ll be asleep all day. I’ll see if Jake’s still on his computer. Just wait at the bottom of the stairs and I’ll give you the signal. He sleeps like the dead, so he won’t hear us leave. I’ll get you a pair of Em’s jeans and a change of clothes. She has at least twenty pairs, she won’t notice one missing.’

  Chapter 45

  Reiss Chanin scowled as he looked out of the window of his apartment. London was always ablaze with light, even at this time of night. Below him, the Thames curled in a dark ribbon towards Greenwich in one direction, and into the city in the other. He stepped out on to the balcony and, leaning on the stainless-steel rail, chewed the side of his nail, lost in thought. He’d been monitoring Marissa’s email since she disappeared, and there had been nothing. A breeze ruffled his hair and he shivered. Everyone in this stupid fucking city kept going on about the heat, but they had no idea. It was like a winter afternoon in Charleston. They had so much to learn here about life, about the right order of things.

  Had Marissa genuinely been on the bus?

  Steve had said it was on a route that went past the Irish embassy. Had she decided to join him at the reception?

  Why would she take the bus and not a cab? Who, in God’s name, took the bus?

  Steve had looked at her credit card transactions online, and she’d definitely been in the food hall in Selfridges minutes before the bus had pulled up at the stop right outside. Reiss bit his lip; he hadn’t looked to see who was getting on, had been focusing on getting off with as little fuss as possible. Had she been there? Surely he’d have noticed? But he’d had his head down, had walked down Orchard Street, careful not to look back.

  He’d walked fast, straight down the road, cutting off at the first left turn to go around in a loop to get to Oxford Street and on to Marble Arch Tube station. His phone had started ringing just as he reached the junction.

  He still couldn’t believe it.

  Steve.

  What the actual fuck?

  He’d answered it quickly, glancing around him as he did so. The pavement had been thick with people – tourists, people of colour. That was such a dumb term.

  Steve’s voice had been low, urgent: ‘Where the fuck are you, Reiss?’

  ‘Marble Arch – what’s up?’

  ‘There’s been an explosion right outside the embassy here. They think it’s chemical …’

  The call had dropped. Reiss had looked at the screen in surprise. He hadn’t heard anything about an explosion, but then he’d been pretty preoccupied today. Someone jostled him from behind and he snapped back to the street, to the homeless guy sitting in a doorway, a paper coffee cup in his hand, to some Muslim bitch covered from head to toe in black.

  Opening Twitter, his thumb hovered over the #Londonattack hashtag, but he didn’t have time to scroll through it. The blast hit him before the sound, a whoosh of energy that made him stagger, then the ear-splitting sound of the explosion, of glass shattering, the screeching of brakes.

  And then silence.

  As if London had stopped and was taking a collective breath.

  Instinctively, he’d ducked down, spinning around in a crouch, but then people were starting to run towards him. As if someone had switched the sound back on, people were screaming, sirens roaring, the noise filling his head.

  There was only one reason Steve had called – he genuinely thought that he, Reiss, had set up a device to blow outside the embassy. Without telling him. With no plan, no support.

  He was such a fucking liability.

  Maybe Steve thought it was a warning, one targeted right at him. One targeted at his reluctance to move faster.

  They hadn’t had a chance to discuss it. Tapping the steel rail of his balcony, watching a pilot boat head down the river, Reiss smiled.

  Steve hadn’t wanted to step up the action – it wasn’t time, he’d said. They needed to be careful, to build the network until it was rock-solid before there was any direct action. The hoaxes were doing exactly what they were intended to do. And every time ISIS claimed responsibility for one of their hoax attacks, it just played into their hands. It was so, so sweet.

  But then when something had gone off for real, Steve had called him straight away. How secure was that?

  What if either of their phones were being monitored? Reiss still couldn’t believe it. Reiss knew their communications were secure, but that wasn’t the point.

  Steve was a weak link. He talked the talk, but he’d never had a difficult moment in his perfect life. His mom and dad had so much money they didn’t know what to do with the stuff. He’d sure as hell never gone to bed hungry, never slept in a trailer with no air conditioning, with whores and dealers hanging out back trying to avoid the cops. Reiss shook his head to himself. They day he’d arrived at school, his new clothes itchy and hot, he’d realised that this was where he was born to be, that these people were going to be the ones who made it happen for him. He’d always been resourceful, had learned how to lie like a pro.

  When he wanted something, he got it.

  And Steve Hunt had what he wanted. Steve had old family money and privilege and class, and with that, connections and power. Connections and power that Reiss had used to build his army.

  He’d known Steve would fail, that he would outlive his usefulness, and then it would be time for him to take over his rightful place as commander-in-chief. It was just a question of when. He’d never had any tolerance for stupidity, for weakness – Steve knew that from their schooldays. The moment Steve became a liability, he had to go.

  And so did his bitch wife.

  She had to have found the USB, unless Steve was lying to him about having it – and what was the point of that? The last place he’d seen it had been in
the living room in Steve’s house. Steve had sworn he didn’t know where it was, and Reiss was pretty sure that, doused in petrol and with a rope around his neck, he’d have told the truth.

  Reiss reckoned Marissa had found it all right; the question was, what had she done with it then? Now he was pretty sure she hadn’t had it couriered to her sister at that hostel in Krabi, although he’d been convinced for a few days that she had.

  Brioni’s sudden decision to come to London had made him even more suspicious. Something weird was going on. The red flag had been Marissa deleting her sister’s WhatsApp messages about when she was arriving in London – what other reason could there be for that? She was sure acting strange. Which was why he was pretty damn sure she hadn’t been blown up at all, that she’d gone into hiding somewhere. But he was monitoring her online; he only needed one slip-up.

  He needed to find Marissa fast and get that USB key or the whole network would collapse. All the work they’d done since they’d arrived in London, all the soldiers they’d recruited across the country, would be in jeopardy if it fell into the wrong hands. And they were poised to step things up, to strike in cities outside London.

  Maybe Brioni would tell him where Marissa had gone. Women were weak, they talked too much. He couldn’t imagine that Marissa would disappear and her sister didn’t know. He’d got Brioni’s email address and cell number from Marissa’s cell phone, had already sent spyware to Brioni’s cell. And she’d opened the email, so he was good to go. Now he just had to wait.

  Chapter 46

  ‘Have you got everything?’

  Mike leaned across the car; his face creased in worry.

  ‘I think so. Are you sure Emma won’t miss this many clothes?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘She’s got three wardrobes. And judging by the noise she made when she came in, she’s got a major hangover to sleep off today, so I wouldn’t worry. I can always say I left whatever she can’t find in the cleaners.’

  Marissa smiled. ‘I didn’t hear her. I think last night was the first time I’ve slept properly in weeks.’

  ‘You never told me you snored.’

  ‘I don’t, you brat.’ She put her hand up to his face. ‘Thank you. Thank you for believing me. I was so worried this – us – could compromise you. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are.’

  ‘We’re not out of the woods yet, by any measure, but I’ll get this USB key over to nerd central and they can work their magic. Now, don’t talk to anyone or call anyone. You need to stay off the grid. I’ll find a way to get in touch with you via the local Gardai when we’ve got Reiss Chanin in custody.’

  ‘Are you going to notify them I’m in the state?’

  Mike grimaced. ‘I worked with an inspector last year, Dawson O’Rourke – I’m going to call him at home and get his advice. We can’t risk any security breaches, and Ireland is such a small country, I don’t want to notify the local force just yet. This needs to be handled by their version of SO15, and I don’t know how fast they can react without a protocol in place. I’ll see what O’Rourke suggests.’

  ‘Ireland’s different from the UK – they really don’t need all the paperwork to make things happen.’

  ‘I know, darling, but this is different – terrorism is different. We don’t know how big this network is yet. At least no one will think to look for you in your friend’s house.’ He paused. ‘You’ve got my credit card, your passport?’

  Marissa tapped the bag Mike had given her. With Emma’s clothes and accessories and her brown hair, she looked completely different from normal, but just like every other tourist. Thankfully, she and Emma were exactly the same size, right down to shoe size.

  ‘Thanks for getting it. I’d had visions of having to sneak into my own house to get it.’

  Mike shook his head as if it wasn’t a problem.

  ‘Why did you keep it under the stairs in a bag full of laundry?’

  ‘It’s not laundry. It’s just meant to look like that. I’ve had that bag packed for months. It’s my running-away bag. Steve sometimes…There’s cash in there, and everything I’d need if I had to go in a hurry. Which was a great plan until I had to go in a hurry.’

  He nodded ruefully. ‘You’re good now. I’m going to bring Reiss Chanin in for questioning as soon as we get our ducks in a row this morning. I had the USB biked in last night. Forensics are running some more tests, and then we should have enough to hold him. Now, you’d better go or you’ll miss your plane. You’ve got the boarding pass?’

  Marissa took a deep breath.

  Would she tell him now?

  But it wasn’t the right moment, it was too big. She leaned over and kissed him.

  ‘I’ve got everything. I’ll see you soon. I love you – you know that?’

  Mike reached over to hug her. ‘Go, quickly, you can’t miss that plane.’

  ***

  ‘You’ve found my suitcase? Where?’ Brioni put the phone closer to her ear and screwed up her face. ‘Really?’

  Sitting opposite Brioni in the diner across the road from her hotel, Anna mouthed, ‘Who is it?’

  Brioni mouthed back, ‘Mike Wesley.’ She held up her hand to Anna for a moment, listening while he explained. ‘Thank you, yes, I understand.’

  She ended the call and looked at her phone for a moment in disbelief.

  ‘What’s wrong? Tell me.’

  Anna took a sip of her smoothie, giving Brioni a moment to recalibrate. It was still early, but Brioni had a shift at the pub she was helping out in at lunchtime today and Anna had wanted to make sure she had a proper meal inside her before she started. Brioni was thin enough as it was, and with all the worry about her sister and then finding Steve’s body, Anna had hardly seen her eat. At least if they had breakfast together, she could keep an eye on her.

  ‘So tell me?’

  ‘You won’t believe it.’ Brioni paused. ‘You know how my suitcase was taken by accident in Heathrow when I arrived? It doesn’t sound like it was an accident.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Mike says the police found it.’ Brioni paused, running her hand through her hair as she spoke. ‘It was in Mar’s house. Buried in the cupboard under the stairs behind some other stuff.’

  ‘What? But why would Marissa want it? How could she have taken it off the carousel without you seeing her? Without wanting to see you?’

  Brioni took a stab at her omelette.

  ‘I don’t think it was her. I kept sending her WhatsApp messages saying when I was arriving. I know those messages were read, but she didn’t reply after the first one. Not once. Anyone who had access to her phone could have seen them.’

  ‘But who else could it have been?’

  ‘Steve? Or Reiss, maybe?’

  ‘But why?’ Anna shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Nor do I, to be honest, but perhaps they thought I had something in my suitcase … that they needed? Or maybe they wanted to stop me staying in London for long, thought if I had no clothes I’d have to head back to Ireland?’ Brioni shook her head, a smile on her face. ‘That would be the type of dumb-ass type of thing one of those two would think – that women are stupid and helpless. I’ve been travelling long enough to know to keep an emergency back-up in my backpack. Once you’ve got a change of underwear and a toothbrush, you can manage for days without “stuff”.’

  Anna took another sip of her smoothie. ‘That’s mad – how did Marissa not know it was there?’

  ‘It was buried under the stairs, behind a bag of laundry and the Hoover, apparently. Mar’s got a cleaner, there’s no reason for her to go rooting in under the stairs. Whoever put it there obviously thought it wouldn’t be found.’

  ‘I still don’t understand how they got into the airport in the first place, and how you didn’t see them.’

  ‘I got held up at passport control and I was wrecked after the flight. I really needed the loo and I wasn’t worried about the case, I thought it would be waiting for me
. I went into the ladies first and then went off to look for it. Whoever took it only needed to have come in on a flight a bit before mine and they could have got to the carousel first. I wouldn’t have recognised Reiss in a million years, I haven’t seen him since Mar’s wedding.’ She paused, picking up her fork to take a mouthful of her omelette. ‘Someone went through my backpack, too – when I left it in the house. I keep things folded up a particular way, with my passport at the bottom.’

  ‘That could have been either of them.’ Anna screwed up her face, trying to make sense of it. ‘They must have thought you had something you’d picked up when you were travelling – or maybe Marissa had sent you something that they needed?’

  ‘Mad, isn’t it?’ Brioni sighed. ‘God, I wish I knew where Mar was. Even if she’d lost her phone and all her numbers, surely she’d be able to email to tell me where she was?’

  ‘Unless she’s got amnesia and doesn’t know who she is. I’m starting to think that’s the only explanation. Someone would have got in touch with you on her behalf if they knew who she was. They could have found you on Facebook, at the very least.’

  Brioni bit her lip, her voice trembling. ‘I really don’t think she’d leave me wondering like this if she was OK. I’m starting to think maybe she was on that bus after all.’

  Chapter 47

  The internet café was bright and cheery, white walls reflecting the sunshine. More importantly, it was empty. Marissa pushed open the door, still unsure if she was making the right decision, the smell of coffee hitting her and making up her mind for her.

  ‘Hello. What can I get you?’

  The girl behind the counter had a strong local accent and bright red hair pulled off her freckled face. Marissa smiled; she hadn’t realised how welcome it would be to hear Irish accents around her after the stress of the past few days. It made her feel safe.

  ‘A latte and a bacon sandwich, please.’

  The bus ride from Dublin Airport had been just under three hours. Three hours in which she’d battled with her conscience. They were going to arrest Reiss Chanin today. Mike had said he was sure he’d have him in custody in twenty-four hours. She looked at the time on the phone Mike had given her. It was mid afternoon. Would they have him by now? With the information on the USB stick, she was absolutely sure they must have.