“My wife was troubled. Abusive. You try living with an abusive partner and tell me you don’t spend every waking moment doing what you can to distance yourself.”
“She was abusive?”
“Yes.”
“Physically?”
“Yes,” Max replied, feeling like he was trapped on some tragic roundabout that kept bringing the most painful aspects of his life back into focus every few minutes. “Cindy was always dangerous.”
“But all the time you were married she was infected with the Shun?”
“So, I’m told. I don’t honestly know. I saw her die in the Tombs only to come face to face with her later that same night. But at Jodrell Bank, whatever fragments of Cindy that were still there, were masked by this other thing—Irulal. She looked like Cindy but like a poorly made facsimile. A puppet for this alien.”
“A puppet you destroyed.”
“You’re welcome,” Max muttered.
The woman glared at him. For a terrifying moment, Max thought she might leap over the table and attack him.
The silence was broken by Kingston. “We’re all in this together, Max.”
“You want to try sitting on this side of the table.”
“You need to understand what we’re facing here,” Kingston said. “We’ve already had testimony from Alice Linwood.”
Max shifted in his seat. He could really do with a cigarette. “I barely know her. We met. That’s about it.”
“And how did you meet?” Burke interjected.
“I was trying to find Cindy. I tracked her down to a complex under the Marine Lake in Southport. They called it the Tombs. You are aware of the Tombs because if you’re not, you should probably go and contain that site because God knows what kind of shit they’ve got going on in there.”
Burke nodded. “It’s being taken care of.”
“Right, then, anyway. I tracked Cindy to this place and together we found a girl hidden away in some kind of vault. Only it turns out it wasn’t a girl, it was this creature, Irulal, that’s somehow been communicating with my wife.”
The short-tempered woman to Max’s right interjected. “And you let this alien free?”
“We didn’t know what she was. If you saw a small girl imprisoned for no obvious reason, in a place that shouldn’t exist, where people with guns patrol and shoot you as soon as look at you, wouldn’t you do something?”
“Like maybe ask whoever’s in charge what the situation was?”
“Well, forgive me for not having the same heartless attitude as you.”
Max turned away from the woman and gave his attention to Burke. “We didn’t know what she was. And besides, I feel that if she wanted to, she could have left that containment herself without any help.”
“You’re suggesting, what? That she deliberately kept herself prisoner?”
“I don’t think she considered that a prison. She needed to be close to her agents. Thadeus was her puppet, and she wanted to be there to keep his strings tight,” Max said.
“It didn’t matter that she was contained whilst she had your wife out and about doing whatever needed to be done,” Burke said matter-of-factly. Max found it incredibly hard to get a reading on this man. His whole demeanour demanded attention and respect, yet his questions, under the surface seemed surgically cutting.
“Tell me more about Cindy. When did you suspect that something was different about her?”
“There was always something different about her.”
“But you’d been married for a long time.”
“Eighteen years,” Max replied.
“You can’t have suspected something was wrong with her for all of that time or surely you’d never have married her.”
“When we met, she was normal. Funny, clever. We got along.”
“And nothing else?”
Max sighed. “If you’re asking if I suspected that she was really being controlled by an alien I’d have to say no.”
There were looks exchanged around the table. quick, furtive glances. Max didn’t like them. He looked to the man Linwood seemed to know best, Kingston, but he wasn’t looking at any of the others. He had his pen in his hand and was doodling something on a pad.
“Is this what this is about?” Max asked. “You think I knew about Cindy and this alien?”
“Did you?” Burke asked.
“No. Of course not. Why would I have spent most of my life with a woman I thought would try to kill me?”
The reply was met with silence.
“Do you mind telling us what happened at Jodrell Bank.”
“I think I might like to see my solicitor now,” Max said.
“Why do you want to see a solicitor?”
“Are you denying me access to a solicitor?”
Kingston put down his pen. “Max, you’re not under arrest. This is a security briefing. We just want to hear from you, what you experienced last night.”
“Still, I’d like my solicitor.”
Burke raised an eyebrow. “You should listen to Mr Kingston. You’re not in any trouble. You don’t need a solicitor.”
“I’m not saying anything else until I get to speak to one.” This was how it always went. They’d get you in under the guise of having a chat, let you open up before throwing that right back at you. Over his years of dealing with his abuse and the police, he’d had it happen to him several times over the years and it was never a fun experience. Whenever he got to speak to his solicitor, their advice was always the same. To call them as soon as the police want to talk. These guys weren’t the police, but the whole situation stank of blame and he wanted to get out of here. Speak to Linwood in private; find out what she’s told them and why they were so keen on his relationship with Cindy.
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Max. This is a secure briefing and we can’t let anyone else in. You signed the Official Secrets Act before you came into this room.”
Max remembered the wad of papers that had been thrust in front of him earlier. He’d barely had a chance to skim over them let alone read them in depth.
“If you’re not going to let me speak to my solicitor, then I’m not going to answer any more of your questions.”
The tension in the room thickened. Murmurs grew from around the table as people muttered under their breath or consulted their neighbour.
Angry woman was the first to break the silence. “I’d suggest you work with us here, Max. We only want to understand how you fit into this whole mess. Help us to help you.”
“Cut the crap. You want a scapegoat.”
“A scapegoat? Why would we need a scapegoat?”
“You want someone to blame for what happened.”
“And you think we want to blame you for the Jodrell Bank Incident?”
“Don’t you?” Max sneered. “It’s obvious you didn’t have the first clue what was going on within one of your own departments.” He turned to regard Kingston. “I’d suggest that he’s the person you should question for answers. MI18 was his responsibility, wasn’t it? You should find out why he was holding an alien in the first place. You don’t seem to have a clue what Irulal was or her people, despite MI18 holding her for the last thirty years. How come?”
The disgruntlement was tangible now. Kingston had sat up in his chair, no longer interested in the doodles he’d been making. Burke, at the head of the table, was leaning into his colleague to his right. Angry woman was saying nothing, her posture as rigid as her stony expression. Max didn’t need to know these people to understand they were as lost as he was and maybe they weren’t looking for a scapegoat, but they were grasping at straws, trying to understand how they’d let this happen under their watch.
Burke spoke again. The annoyance in his voice was fully evident now. “I’ll be honest with you, Max. I find it difficult to believe events happened tonight the way you describe. I think you’re holding information back and I don’t know why.”
“I’m not holding anything back. Why would I
?”
“That’s what we’d like to know. It seems incredible that you’ve spent most of your adult life with a woman and not know that she was connected to this alien.”
“It’s the truth.”
“It’s your truth,” Burke replied. “But with the country’s security at stake, I’d like more reassurance than the words of a man we’ve never heard of until a couple of hours ago.”
Max stood. “I’ll be going now.”
The security guard standing by the door bristled and glanced in Burke’s direction. Max regarded the man and wondered whether he’d be able to get past. He frowned. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”
“Sit down,” Burke commanded. “Let’s finish this civilly.”
“No,” Max said loudly. “I’m done with this. You’ve got your investigators. Let them investigate. I’ve told you all I know and if that’s not good enough, then that’s tough.”
“Sit, down,” Burke repeated.
But Max didn’t. Kingston was staring at him, but his expression was impossible to read. Linwood had suggested he was the only one he could trust, but Max trusted none of them. These people didn’t want to help him. They wanted to cover themselves. Protect their secrets.
“I’ve got rights. I’d suggest you don’t trample all over them. If you let me go, I’ll consider not telling the press about what happened last night.” They were foolish words and Max realised as they tumbled from his mouth how empty the threat sounded.
A few smiles appeared around the room. Apparently, these people didn’t take well to threats.
“You’ve signed the Official Secrets Act. You’re a key witness in a Grey Four incursion attempt.” Burke spoke calmly and leant back in his chair. “You’re not going anywhere. You can sit back down and continue this conversation...”
Max was done listening to the man’s voice and ran for the door. If he could knock the security guard aside, he could get out into the main corridor and then he stood a fighting chance of getting lost inside this complex. All he needed to do was find a phone and he could call for help.
But the guard was ready for him. Six foot of burly man greeted his approach without surprise. Max’s impact barely moved him. A hand seized Max’s wrist and twisted it violently behind his back, lifting high, pulling Max up onto his toes.
Restrained, he glared back at the people in the room. “You can’t do this.” The guard applied a fraction more pressure and Max winced. He tried to pull away but the more resistant he became, the more it hurt. He stopped struggling. The audience remained impassive.
Burke stood. “You’ve given us no choice. We didn’t want to have to do this but as you’re proving so uncooperative, this is the best for all of us.”
The door opened and the woman who’d brought them here entered. She looked cool and dangerous.
All eyes in the room were now on this newcomer. Burke addressed Max. “Ms Petro will take care of you now. I suggest you are more honest with her than you’ve been with us. It will help you in the long run.”
Max was trapped. He scanned the room, looking for a sympathetic face, anyone who could tell him that everything would be all right. But there was nothing reassuring about their expressions. The hope he’d been hanging onto evaporated. His life had just gotten a lot more complicated.
8
6th May 2013
“What do you mean, they’re taking care of him? Who? Where’s he being taken?” Payne was furious and his face had reddened. Linwood put a light hand on his arm but he shrugged it aside immediately.
Instead, she tried a different approach. “They’re more concerned about his wife than with Max himself. There’s a chance that whatever had happened to her, may happen to him.”
“You think he will suddenly turn psychotic like Cindy?”
“This isn’t about what I believe. I’ve got no say in what happens to him.”
“Then bloody get a say. You’ve got to look after him,” Payne said.
People were looking nervously in their direction. Linwood tried not to roll her eyes at the detective, but he could be a bloody pain in the arse when he wanted to be. They’d just survived an alien incursion, and he wasn’t prepared to take a moment to look at the big picture. In the temper he was in, there was little point in discussing anything with him.
“Max will be fine. You’ll agree that he needs a medical?”
A pause, then Payne reluctantly nodded.
“And you agree that if we take him to the nearest hospital, they will not be equipped to give him the examination that’s needed?”
Again, a nod. He softened now that these two facts were pointed out to him.
“Department 5 have embedded with the TALOS Institute. They’ll make sure he’s OK and it will give him a chance to sort his life out. He’s lost his wife and his girlfriend and from what I can tell, he had little in the way of a support network. TALOS will help him through that.”
“You really think it’s for the best?”
Linwood smiled wanly. “I’m sure it is.”
Kingston approached and nodded at Payne. “There’s a car waiting to take you back to Southport.”
“Oh, I thought I’d be staying a while.”
Kingston shook his head. “We could do with someone we can trust up there. As long as you don’t mind us keeping in touch.”
“No, not at all, obviously.” Payne glanced at Linwood. “Right, then I guess I’ll be hearing from you soon.”
Payne shook Kingston’s hand, then hesitated before offering his hand to Linwood. She took it and squeezed it gently. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.” Then Kingston directed him to an agent waiting by the double doors and they watched as Payne left them. Now that they had privacy, Kingston’s face dropped. “We need to talk,” he said.
Together, they walked away from the meeting room and into the depths of Westminster. They didn’t speak at first and Linwood knew her boss was building up to something. The man was a pressure cooker, building up the daily irritations until he either exploded or cooled. In their hectic world, venting was usually the fastest way to deal with the stress.
He veered off from the corridor to a door leading out into one of the dozens of small courtyards at Westminster. It was still chilly and Linwood shivered at the change in climate.
Kingston strolled into the middle of the courtyard and patted his pockets. He pulled out a vaping gadget and took a puff. The colour had gone from his cheeks and he didn’t make eye contact whilst he addressed her. “That could have gone better,” he said.
“Who the hell were they all?”
Now he did give her eye contact. “They are the people who will deal with the fallout of your fuck-ups.”
She was taken aback by the sudden vitriol in his tone.
“Excuse me?”
“What the hell were you thinking, going off after MI18 like that?”
“I had reason to believe MI18 had been compromised. I didn’t, at the time, appreciate how far that compromise had reached.”
He looked at her then, the thunder had returned. “You considered me a security risk?”
“It was a possibility.”
He glared at her, and when he spoke, she got the impression he was trying very hard not to shout. “Protocol dictates you should inform the Home Secretary if you believed me to be compromised.”
“Time was a factor. I needed to get to the Tombs and investigate. I appreciate that I may have bent protocol in doing so—”
“Bent protocol! You’ve interpreted protocol to suit your own bloody ends. You’ve done what you’ve always done.”
“But, sir, like I said, this was a delicate operation. There was a time pressure and the risk that raising concerns about compromised personnel would only tip my hand to those I wanted to block.”
“Thadeus,” Kingston snorted. “Always a wild card. Always needed a tight hold on his reins.”
Linwood tried to ignore the slight. “Thadeus was a good agent. He had his r
easons for acting and whilst I don’t share his views, I can understand how he could have been conditioned by Irulal to behave in the way he did.”
Kingston sighed and scratched the bald patch on the back of his head. He pinched at his close-set eyes.
“Irulal was always a risk,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“What happened to her? She was supposed to be contained.”
“She was. A state of the art system.”
“So what went wrong?”
“It didn’t work.”
“After Operation Snowflake, I understood she'd been vaporised.”
“And she was. The prototype weapon worked as expected.”
“And yet, in your report, you detailed that it didn’t work at all. She was back working with Thadeus. Pulling his strings.”
In her brief catch up with Thadeus, minutes before his death, she’d not had the opportunity to learn all about their relationship. Much of what had been in her report had been educated guesswork and as a security expert, guesswork pained her.
“It was clear from the way Thadeus spoke about Irulal, that he had never trusted her. Whatever the nature of their relationship, it wasn’t as clear cut as you might expect. He thought he was in control. But she’d manipulated him into completing her work.”
“And are we clear on what the nature of that work was yet?” Kingston asked.
“Not completely, no. She was promising Thadeus a cure for cancer. Instead, she used him to get access to human specimens to experiment on.”
“And what happened to these specimens?” he pressed.
“I don’t know that yet. I need more time to investigate the Tombs site. See if I can find more evidence.”
“You don’t really believe he was keeping records.”
Linwood shrugged. “He was always meticulous.”
“No. I’m not authorising any more trips to the Tombs facility. In fact, I’m passing operational control to Department 5. They can manage this. I’ve already spoken to Jacqueline Petro. You’re to check in with her as soon as possible. Offer every assistance.”
“You want me to report into her? Sir, let me run this. This is about MI18 and the Tombs. Department 5 know nothing about this.”
The Faceless Stratagem (Tombs Book 2) Page 5
