Huntress

by Amanda Radley

  She sighed. She wanted to call her mum. Wanted to tell her that she was okay and that she had nothing to do with whatever the news was saying she did. With a sinking feeling she thought about her nan, who religiously watched the news broadcasts on the BBC every morning, afternoon, and evening. Her life revolved around watching the news, and now her darling granddaughter was going to be on it. Branded a terrorist.

  Amy finished scribbling in her notebook. “Okay. We need to drive to a cash point and take out as much money as we can. We need cold, hard cash. That’s if they haven’t already frozen our bank accounts. I don’t think they would have. They don’t know we’re on the run yet, as we only just decided to do it. In fact, they will probably allow us access in the hope we’ll use an ATM so they can track us.”

  Kerry swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Agreed. We need cash, and then we need to lose the car.” She looked around at her car, her pride and joy. She’d been so happy when she’d bought it with the money she had saved from her first job.

  Amy nodded. “Okay, we’ll drive to a cash point, both take as much as we can, and then drive away. I think we should ditch it in Sommerfeld Street, then we can take the cut-through to the park and then over the fence to Walton. Then we get the local trains to London and then the first fast train up north.”

  “Whoa, you want to go into central London? Isn’t that the exact opposite of being off the grid?”

  “We have to. If we want to get off the grid, then we have to get away from the area. Unless you want to walk for ten days straight to get to Aberdeen, we need to get a train. The thing is, how many trains leave London every day? Thousands. And they don’t know what we’re planning. So, they would have to look through countless cameras in some of the busiest stations in the country. That’s gotta be a needle in a haystack, right?”

  Kerry felt herself frown as she considered the risk they might take.

  “Once we’re in London, we’ll get the oldest train we can up to Scotland, anywhere in Scotland will do. It’s bound to not have CCTV on it if the train is old enough. We’ll try to avoid the station cameras. Even if they see us at the station, they won’t be able to track us beyond that.”

  Kerry felt uncertainty in her stomach like a brick.

  “I know it’s a risk, but I think it’s a calculated one,” Amy concluded. “We have the element of surprise. Look, let me show you what I’m thinking.”

  Amy angled the paper map towards Kerry. She followed the route that Amy had pointed out. She nodded her head. It was as good a plan as any.

  7

  The Hunter

  Claudia McAllister walked into the debriefing room and looked around at her former colleagues with barely disguised amusement. It had been nearly a year since she had last been in the darkened meeting room. That meeting had been very similar to this. The large boardroom table still had the same boring faces who wore the same sour expressions. The windowless room was still lit by the same dim artificial lighting and the sound of the air conditioning units rumbled familiarly in the background.

  The main difference was that meeting had been the one where she had walked out of the service. A terrorist mastermind had gone to ground, and it had been the final straw for her. She would have caught him if she had simply been allowed to break a couple of laws. Nothing major. She wasn’t asking to kill anyone. Just to not have to wait for a 651-C form to be signed off by three different department heads. While uninformed suits in their offices read through pages of intelligence reports in order to make decisions on subjects they couldn’t possibly understand, the window of opportunity had slammed shut.

  MI5, like any other branch of government, was annoyingly full of red tape. So much so that operations often ground to a halt.

  Claudia had been tracking the suspect for six months. She’d seen his plans with her own eyes. Most importantly, she knew the man. Knew he had killed before and planned to do so again. He’d taunted her, left messages for her to find every step along the way. He’d known that she was unable to act, known that her hands were tied by bureaucracy.

  So she had left the intelligence service. In a blaze of language not suiting her position or temperament, she walked out that day and never looked back. Plenty of other hunters left MI5 and went on to have wildly successful careers. Some worked for other governments around the world, some went freelance. Some even worked for the terrorists. Hunting people was a skill, a job just like any other.

  Claudia had set up her own firm in London. At first, there was the thrill of being her own boss, she only took on the cases she wanted to investigate. The pay was good. The red tape non-existent. She operated within the law, of course. But sometimes the law was a little grey, and she took full advantage of those murky shadows.

  When Andrew had called her the previous week, she’d hung up the phone. Partially because it felt oh so good to hang up on her former boss, and partially because she knew he would only be calling to say that he needed her. Hanging up the phone delayed the inevitable.

  He didn’t call back, and she wasn’t surprised to see him in the waiting room to her office the following morning. He looked like he’d aged five years in the last twelve months.

  He looked like he’d aged another five years since that meeting just last week. She took the only available seat at the table and looked towards her former boss.

  “Thank you for joining us, Claudia,” Andrew said pleasantly.

  Claudia nodded in reply and placed her interlaced fingers on the desk as she waited for him to begin. Andrew hadn’t given her many details in her office. Red tape, of course, dictated that he couldn’t speak to her in an unsecured environment. But she knew it was important. He had promised that she would remain a contractor, not working for the government. She would be allowed to operate the investigation in her own way with no limitations. That alone indicated to Claudia that they had slipped up. Big time. And they needed her to help them fix it.

  Andrew picked up a remote control from the table and pressed a button, causing the dull lights in the room to dim even further. A moment later the projector screen came to life.

  “Amy Philippa Hewitt.” Andrew pointed to the photograph on the screen. “Twenty-five years old. She’s been on the run for six hours, and her capture is of national importance.”

  Claudia leaned forward and examined the photograph of the smiling young woman, presumably taken from a social media site. Long blonde hair was tied loosely back, sparkling green eyes shone in the summer sun, and a crooked, though genuine, smile filled the frame. She couldn’t see a single hint of malice in the picture. But she knew that even the most innocent-looking person could turn out to be guilty of the most terrible crimes.

  “Kerry Wyatt, also twenty-five years old, is with her.” Andrew pressed a button and the photograph of Amy was replaced with one of a new, equally friendly smiling face. This time the woman was slightly larger in build but with the same carefree look. Short brown hair, blue eyes, Claudia noted. Andrew pushed a button on the remote, and both pictures appeared side by side.

  “Miss Hewitt and Miss Wyatt are considered to be highly dangerous, well-organised, and have been effectively off our radar since they ran from a motorway service station six hours ago,” Andrew continued. He pressed the remote control again. This time a satellite image of the local area appeared on the screen.

  “Our agents have not been able to track Miss Hewitt or Miss Wyatt down through conventional methods. Due to the sensitivity and urgency of this case, we have had to bring in additional support.” Andrew looked towards Claudia.

  She pushed back her chair and walked around the table to get a closer look at the photographs. Her eyesight had never been great, and she refused to wear her glasses amongst her former colleagues.

  “She needs to be found and brought in for questioning within the next twelve days,” Andrew explained as he stood by and watched Claudia examine the photograph.

  “And what happens in twelve days?” Claudia folded her arms and
looked up at Andrew with interest.

  Andrew bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, clearly weighing his options. After a moment he nodded towards Louisa Hayward, who was sat closest to the projector.

  Claudia turned to look at the Information Officer and raised her eyebrow. While no one in the room particularly liked Claudia, Louisa disliked her the most. Claudia couldn’t help but enjoy making the woman squirm.

  Louisa let out a sigh. She folded her hands over a restricted information dossier laying on the desk in front of her. Protecting the secrets within.

  “We have information that, in twelve days’ time, multiple terrorist attacks will take place in multiple, as yet unknown, locations across Britain,” Louisa spoke measuredly. “Amy Hewitt has a USB stick on her person. It contains stolen government information and a tracker virus which she has already accessed once. We have recovered her laptop and have discovered evidence of her involvement with known terrorist agencies. Her capture and questioning is essential to national security.”

  Claudia discreetly swallowed and nodded. Of course, she had known that it was serious for them to be calling her in. But the stakes were higher than she’d imagined. An operation of this magnitude was rare for MI5; it needed to be successful.

  She pushed aside her personal feelings, her bitterness towards her former colleagues, and turned back to regard the photographs. The smiling faces peered back at her. She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. They didn’t look like typical terrorists. But in the new terror age they lived in, anyone could be converted to extremism.

  “So, who are these girls?” Claudia asked.

  Following a nod from Andrew, Louisa opened the file in front of her. She shuffled the pages as she began to read off information. “Amy is twenty-five and works in a coffee shop called Tom’s Café in a motorway service station close to where she lives.”

  “Where she ran from,” Claudia guessed.

  “Yes. She has a degree in Sociology and lives with her mother in the village of Wakeham. No romantic partner that we know of, but she is extremely popular socially, mainly online. Kerry Wyatt is her best friend; they grew up and went to school together. They live one mile away from each other. They attended separate universities, Kerry graduated with an accountancy degree and now works in a local accountancy firm. She recently ended a short relationship with a Martin Reed, we’re looking into him now. She lives alone in a small flat in Wakeham.”

  “Family?” Claudia asked. She sat on the edge of the table and attempted to look at the file Louisa was reading.

  Louisa slammed it closed and looked up at Andrew beseechingly.

  “You know the rules, Claudia,” he told her with a sigh. “You don’t have security clearance to see all of the information we have gathered. Only the standard bios.”

  Claudia shook her head. Nothing changed. “So you call me in, you want my help, but you won’t bring me in on what you already have?”

  “I don’t make the rules,” Andrew replied.

  “No, but you do blindly follow them. Even when, in your own words, national security is at risk.”

  “You don’t work here anymore, Claudia. You saw to that,” Andrew argued.

  “No, I think you all saw to that,” Claudia replied. “Each and every one of you knows that things need to change in this agency.”

  “The truth is that you aren’t accountable in the same way we are,” Miranda Haynes spoke up from her seat beside Louisa. “You can deliver results without having to jump through the endless hoops of bureaucracy that we have to.”

  “So, now that it suits you…” Claudia stood up and walked towards the projector screen. She folded her arms and looked at the photographs, soaking up every detail she could. “You want me to break the rules?”

  “If you must, yes,” Miranda spoke plainly. “Now that I don’t have to justify your decision-making process to the board.”

  “Of course we can’t be seen to be working with you,” Andrew explained as he sat down. “You will work alone, and we will not be able to support you. You use whatever methods you feel necessary. If you find her before we do, then you can bring her in and take the reward. But this meeting never happened.”

  “This is pathetic,” Claudia mumbled under her breath. She turned and looked at Andrew. “You clearly know that your methods aren’t working. When will things change around here?”

  “Change takes time. Consider how serious it must be for us to be willing to take this course of action,” Andrew said. His serious expression silenced any further arguments. Now was clearly not the time.

  Claudia nodded. “I’ll find them. Just give me the basics, and I’ll go from there.”

  Andrew, in turn, nodded at Louisa. She pulled a sheet of paper from her file and handed it to Claudia.

  “Full name, date of birth, last known address. All you’ll need to begin your own profiling,” Louisa said.

  “How kind of you,” Claudia said sarcastically.

  “Remember, they are both considered to be extremely dangerous.” Andrew spoke again. “I know you think we’re all incompetent, but they vanished from our hunt team immediately. They had backpacks with them, so they were clearly prepared to run. You need to consider these girls well-organised and dangerous.”

  “How was it? Has anything changed?” Mark Richards removed his glasses and methodically cleaned each lens with a disposable cloth.

  Claudia snorted. “No, of course not. Same old people. Same old problems.” She plugged her mobile phone into the charger, the only thing on her large and empty desk.

  “We have a new case,” she said simply.

  “A new case?” Mark raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s why you asked me to hang around?”

  Claudia looked at the clock on the wall. It was now ten in the evening, which meant her suspects had an eight-hour head start. At MI5, an eight-hour head start was a disastrous prospect. But Claudia knew that she and Mark were the ultimate dream team when it came to finding anyone. Mark had been the best analyst in MI5, and now he worked exclusively for her. Part of Louisa’s animosity towards her was the fact that she had managed to steal Mark from her team.

  “I thought you were in trouble,” Mark continued. “I thought it was about you interfering with that recovery case last month?”

  “Seems they don’t know anything about that.” Claudia shrugged. “Just think, Mark. Our survival is in their hands. Isn’t that a terrifying thought?”

  “They gave you a case?” Mark questioned again.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “You left. We left.”

  “Well, we haven’t returned, if it’s any consolation to you? They just want help locating someone, they need some rules bent to do so.” Claudia opened her desk drawer and pulled out a red marker pen.

  “What about Mrs McEnroe and this divorce case?” Mark asked, gesturing towards a stack of papers on his desk.

  Claudia walked over to the large whiteboard. “This comes first, and then we’ll go back to the McEnroes and their marital woes.”

  She pulled the cap off the pen with her teeth and started to write the basic information that she had been given. As she wrote, she heard Mark typing the details into her computer.

  “Amy Hewitt, lives in Wakeham?” Mark asked.

  Claudia took the pen cap out of her mouth. “That’s the one.”

  “May I?” Mark indicated the whiteboard, and Claudia nodded.

  With a few taps of the keyboard, Mark’s screen was projected onto the whiteboard. Numerous windows from multiple social media sites as well as telephone directories and search engines filled the board. Claudia looked at the info with interest.

  “Neither of these women are shy about sharing their data,” Mark commented.

  “That’s good for us,” Claudia said as she took in all the information.

  “Amy has a driver’s licence, but no vehicle is registered to her and she doesn’t hold a parking permit with the council for her home add
ress. So I think we can assume no vehicle there. Kerry holds a driver’s licence and owns a vehicle.”

  Claudia nodded. A car was a great start. The Automatic Number Plate Recognition System had often allowed her to track suspects in real time.

  “Have MI5 requested ANPR on Kerry’s car?” Claudia asked.

  A new screen appeared, one that Mark probably shouldn’t have had access to. Claudia wasn’t about to complain.

  “Yes,” he replied. “But there have been no hits.”

  “No hits in eight hours,” Claudia said. “Let’s assume they have dumped the car.”

  “They’ve been missing eight hours?” Mark clarified. “And they are calling us in already?”

  “They have terrorist links. They both ran from the motorway services, both wearing large rucksacks which presumably contain supplies to go on the run. They had clearly been planning this for a while. Amy has a USB stick with her which contains stolen government information that may be relevant to an attack that is being planned. They didn’t say directly, but I assume it’s that Green Falcon group we hear so much chatter about. Amy is the ringleader, we don’t know Kerry’s full story yet.”

  Mark blew out a low whistle. “Serious stuff then.”

  “Very. These two may look like nursery school teachers, but they are extremely dangerous.” Claudia turned to face Mark. “Call your friends in. We’ll need access to CCTV, facial recognition, phone records. The works.”

  “I say this every time, but─”

  “It’s not exactly legal, I know, I know.” Claudia cut him off with a wave of her hand. “This one’s important. We have nowhere to start, and we need to get these girls before they completely go to ground. We need data, and we need it now.”

  8

  First Mistake

  “Mum?”

  “Amy?” She sounded panicked. Amy’s heart clenched.