‘You’re on, Gray. And I suggest you book a furlough to recover. A couple of months should do it.’
‘We’ll see,’ Gray said, as he started his walk towards Durden’s office. After a few steps, he noticed that Balmer was still beside him.
‘Just so happens I’m going that way, too. Any idea why he’d want to brief both of us?’
Gray shook his head, though one horrific idea was springing in his mind.
For someone who’d spent so much time in the region, Lance Durden hadn’t done a good job of acclimatising. Three powerful electric fans roared as Gray and Balmer entered his office, where Russell and Balmer’s CO—Captain Harold Bridges—were already waiting.
Gray was glad of the respite from the heat. He positioned himself in the crosswind and he and Balmer flicked off salutes before Bridges told them to stand at ease.
‘Gentlemen,’ Durden began, ‘thanks for coming.’ He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and drank from a bottle of water, condensation dripping from the bottom. ‘We’ve had news that an American citizen was kidnapped in Kabul yesterday.’ He pointed to a photograph on a board that showed the Arabic features of a woman in her fifties. ‘Miriam Dagher was due to lecture at the Kabul Medical Institute, but her transport was intercepted by hostiles posing as Afghan police. Her three-man protection team was killed, and her whereabouts are currently unknown. As of now, she’s our priority.’
‘May I ask why, sir?’
All heads turned to Gray.
‘I mean, she’s hardly the first civilian to be seized by the Taliban,’ he added.
‘The request to find her comes direct from the PM,’ Russell told him. ‘She was born in Afghanistan but is now an American citizen, though she’s been working on a joint British and US venture in London for the last two years. The prime minister has assumed responsibility for her safety, that’s all I know.’
While it wasn’t unusual for Gray’s team to be made aware of captured British nationals, it was the first time he’d been told to put one at the top of his search list. It could only mean that she was working on something sensitive for both governments.
‘What was the purpose of her visit?’
‘She was here to lecture on a breakthrough she’d made on painless childbirth,’ Durden said.
‘Do we know if she was specifically targeted?’ Balmer asked.
‘Unlikely,’ Durden told him. ‘Wrong place, wrong time, that’s the way we see it.’
Gray and Balmer exchanged glances. Durden knew more than he was sharing, Gray was sure of it.
‘Any idea who took her?’ he asked.
‘It’s early days. I’ve got an asset digging around for information.’
‘Is this the same asset who told us Abdul al-Hussain would be hiding in the mountains last night?’
‘That’s enough,’ Russell growled.
Gray wanted to respond, but bit his tongue. Durden was fair game, but he wasn’t about to get into a slanging match with his own boss.
‘It isn’t,’ Durden said, ignoring Gray’s dig. ‘The man looking for Dagher is code-named Sentinel. He’s a relatively new acquisition, but the few leads he’s given us so far have panned out. Once he’s located her, you two will be going in to get her out.’
This was exactly what Gray had feared before the meeting. He had no issues working alongside other team members, except for Balmer. Gray couldn’t trust him to leave his ego at the camp.
‘You’re suggesting a joint mission?’ Gray asked.
‘It’s a possibility,’ Bridges said. He was an imposing figure, a buzz cut atop a mound of muscle. ‘Whichever team is available gets first crack. If she’s being held in a heavily-defended location, you’ll go in together.’
‘It’s not going to be an issue, is it?’ Russell directed the question to both Gray and Balmer.
‘No, sir. Not at all.’
‘Fine by me,’ Balmer said, though Gray detected a hint of bitterness in his reply.
‘Good,’ Durden said, resuming his seat. ‘Back to business. We have a couple of leads that I’d like you two to check out. Master Sergeant Balmer, we’ve picked up radio chatter suggesting Asadi Mansour will be returning from Pakistan in the next twelve hours. He’s been on a recruitment mission at the Quetta madrassas looking for fresh blood.’
Gray hadn’t been in country long, but he knew that the Taliban often went to the faith schools in Pakistan to recruit young men who had been taught to hate the West.
‘Any idea which route he’s going to take?’ Balmer wanted to know.
‘It won’t be one of the regular border crossings. I hope to have an exact fix by 2100 hours. Once we have that, you ship out.’
Durden turned to Gray. ‘A drone discovered what looks like an arms cache. Four hostiles took several cases into a building in the hills fifteen miles north of here. Captain Russell has the details.’
Durden started writing on a pad, and the two captains made for the door. The meeting was done.
‘Good luck finding those pea shooters,’ Balmer said to Gray, every word dripping sarcasm. ‘You be careful out there. It’ll be dark.’
Gray knew he was more likely to find boxes of Christmas decorations and pork scratchings than weapons, but he wasn’t about to make Balmer’s day by sharing his concerns.
Gray settled for, ‘I’ll see you on Friday,’ then chased after Russell.
‘What do you think?’
‘Looks to be an arms cache,’ Russell said. ‘I watched a recording of the drone feed and saw four guys humping boxes from a pick-up truck. I doubt they were delivering pizzas.’
If Russell was sure, that was good enough for Gray, but that wasn’t what he was referring to. ‘I meant the Dagher woman. It’s unusual for a civvy to get top billing, isn’t it?’
‘Ours is not to reason why—’
‘Ours is but to go where no other fucker is stupid enough to go.’
‘Amen,’ Russell said, and held up a manila envelope. ‘I’ve got the co-ordinates of the cache and a few overhead shots. Let’s go put a plan together.’
‘Give me fifteen minutes,’ Gray said. ‘I’ll get the team together. Oh, and, sir, permission to do some unarmed combat training this weekend?’
Russell threw a look that told Gray to spit it out.
‘I thought we might get together with Balmer’s boys and see if there’s anything new we might learn from each other. Purely educational, of course.’
‘Naturally. And how many of you are going to take part in this… training?’
‘I thought just one of us,’ Gray said.
Russell thought about it for a minute. ‘Okay, but one only. Got it?’
‘Crystal, sir.’
Gray turned to leave, but Russell grabbed his arm.
‘Make sure he gets a good education,’ the captain said, grinning.
Russell headed back to his office while a buoyant Gray returned to his tent. Levine was rubbing lotion on his body, while Smart was lying on his bed, reading a paperback.
‘We’re on for tonight,’ Gray told them. ‘Where’s Sonny?’
‘In the shower,’ Levine said. ‘What’s the objective?’
‘A weapons dump.’
‘Yay! I finally get to blow shit up!’
Each member of the four-man patrol had a speciality. Levine’s was explosives. Sonny was the sharp-shooter. Smart the medic. And Gray was in charge of communications.
‘Only if Durden got one right,’ Gray cautioned.
Sonny returned with his washing kit. ‘What’s the news?’
‘Weapons dump,’ Gray said. ‘We’re gonna discuss it with the CO in ten minutes. In the meantime I’ve arranged a little fun activity for the weekend.’
‘Don’t tell me we get to field-strip a pinkie… again!’
‘Even better, Sonny. One of us gets to go toe-to-toe with Balmer’s best.’
Sonny and Smart grinned, but Levine wasn’t happy.
‘Only one of us? How is that fair? Ca
n’t we just have a huge dust up, our troop against theirs?’
‘The CO wouldn’t go for that.’
‘But he okayed a one-on-one?’ Smart asked.
Gray smiled. ‘If you ask me, he’s looking forward to it as much as we are.’
Chapter 7
When Commander Sarah Keogh arrived at New Scotland Yard, her stomach was tied in knots. Being summoned to the office of the commissioner meant one of two things—and she hadn’t done anything to earn praise nor a promotion in recent months.
She made her way up to the fourth floor and along the corridor to Commissioner Elaine Randall’s office. In the reception area she saw a familiar face in Commander David Duke. After introducing herself to the receptionist, Sarah took a seat next to Duke.
‘You, too?’ he asked.
‘Any idea what this is all about?’
‘Not a clue,’ Duke said. ‘My DAC just told me to be here at ten.’
Sarah had been given the same instructions by her own deputy assistant commissioner. She’d pressed for further details, but there had been none.
A buzzing sound came from the receptionist’s desk, and then she motioned for Sarah and Duke to step inside.
Elaine Randall sat with her hands clasped on the oak desk in front of her. She was the youngest commissioner in the history of the Metropolitan Police at forty-seven, having bulldozed her way up the ranks. She dyed her long hair black to retain her youthful look, a constant reminder to every one of her achievements.
Sarah and Duke came to attention in front of her. ‘Ma’am,’ they chorused.
‘A woman has disappeared, and I’d like you two to investigate it,’ Randall said without preamble.
Sarah and Duke glanced at each other.
‘Ma’am?’ Sarah said again. ‘You want two teams to work on the same case?’
Randall pointed at them. ‘No, I want you two to work on the same case.’ She opened a file and held out a photograph. Sarah leaned forward and took it from her.
‘Miriam Dagher,’ Randall said. ‘She’s a US citizen but has been working in London for the past two years. Miriam was kidnapped by at least four armed men yesterday morning. Her three escorts were killed.’
Sarah frowned. A shooting like that would have been all over the news at the very least. ‘I didn’t hear anything about this. Where did it take place?’
‘Kabul,’ Randall said. ‘Afghanistan.’
It was Duke’s turn to voice his concerns. ‘You want us to travel to Afghanistan to investigate a kidnapping?’
‘No. I need background here. The PM has ordered this personally, but doesn’t want a media circus. That’s why I’m assigning it to you two. We need to know why she was targeted.’
‘Pardon me for sounding dumb, ma’am, but why is the prime minister so interested in her?’
‘All I know is that she was working on something that could be of great benefit to the pharmaceutical industry, and both the UK and US have a vested interest in getting her back. By all accounts she’s a brilliant virologist, irreplaceable.’
‘Yet the PM doesn’t know what she was working on?’ Sarah asked.
‘It appears not. My feeling is he’s under pressure from President Arnold to ensure her safe return. Our boys in Afghanistan are doing their bit, but we need to cover all bases.’
Randall handed Duke a file. He opened it, and removed two sheets of paper.
‘That’s her personal details, place of work and home address. It’s all we have at the moment, but the PM is pressing Arnold for more information. You report directly to me—no-one else. And you do not delegate this to anyone. This requires the utmost discretion, understood?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Very well. I’ve already contacted your chief supers to let them know they’ll be covering for you for the rest of the day, perhaps tomorrow, too. Get to it.’
Sarah and Duke turned sharply in sync and left the room. As they walked towards the elevator, Sarah took the file from Duke and opened the thin dossier.
‘Looks like she lived alone. Why don’t we start with her employer?’
‘Just like that?’ Duke said, stopping dead. ‘You don’t think something’s off here? You don’t even want to discuss it?’
‘What is there to discuss? We’ve been given a task—I suggest we complete it as best we can.’ She noted Duke’s look and sighed. ‘What do you want to do? Go back and question Randall’s decision to assign the role to us?’
‘No, I just…aren’t you curious? This woman was obviously working on something top secret, otherwise it would be given to a couple of uniforms.’
‘I’m going to view it as a test. Get the information Randall wants, report back and wait for the next promotion to come along.’ Sarah had always been career-minded. Not to the same obsessed level as Randall, but she would never pass up an opportunity to get herself a pay rise and one foot higher up the ladder. ‘Anyway, any questions you have will be answered once we’ve completed our investigation.’
Sarah knew she was right. She’d been with the police for close to twelve years but had never encountered anything like this. If she was to progress past the rank of commander, though, she would have to just do her job and move on.
‘Okay,’ Duke said, walking towards the lift. ‘My station’s closer. I’ll sign out a car and we can visit her place of work.’
‘Discretion, remember. Better to go home and change into civvies, then meet up somewhere.’
‘Good point. Where is it?’
‘Chelsea, just off the King’s Road.’
Duke pressed the button for the elevator. ‘I used to work that patch. I don’t recall any laboratories.’
Sarah handed him a sheet of paper. ‘That’s what it says.’
‘Must have sprung up in the last few years, then.’
They entered the lift and Sarah pressed the button for the ground floor. ‘Where do you live?’
‘Clapham,’ Duke told her.
‘I’m in Herne Hill. I’ll pick you up on the way.’ She took Duke’s phone and punched in her mobile number. ‘Text me your address.’
When they reached the exit, Sarah said she would be at his place in an hour, and then they split up. She got into the car that was waiting for her and told the uniformed officer to take her home.
Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up outside her three-bed detached house.
‘I’ll make my own way back,’ Sarah said as she got out. As soon as she got inside she put the kettle on and then headed upstairs to change.
Once she was dressed in a conservative blue suit, Sarah went down to the kitchen and poured a coffee, then threw some ham into a sandwich.
Like Duke, she was curious about the case they’d been assigned, though she really did see it as an opportunity. To be trusted with something so sensitive meant her superiors had every faith in her, and she would do her best to deliver for them.
She finished her snack just as her flip-up Nokia pinged. She squinted at Duke’s address.
Sarah locked up and got into her Audi. It took her twenty minutes to reach Duke’s place, and when she arrived she parked outside and sent him a text to let him know she was waiting.
Duke was wearing a dark grey suit. It looked good on him, and showed off his well-maintained body. In contrast, Sarah hadn’t taken too much care of her body, and she knew it. She promised herself every Monday that she’d start exercising at the weekend, but there were always excuses. A tough week at work, a niggling pain that would put it off for another week, the release of a new film at the cinema. The real problem was she liked beer too much, and if she was going to lose a few pounds, that would have to be removed from her diet. That and the pizzas that went with the four cans. It wasn’t that she drank every day—three times a week at most—but Sarah had few friends within the force and none outside it. She went home alone every night, and that was how it would be for the rest of her life. She was the first to admit that she wasn’t the prettiest flower in the ga
rden, so she’d long ago given up dreams of meeting Mr. Right. A few years ago Mr Barely-Adequate would have done, but these days she only sought the company of her trusted friend Stella Artois.
‘Okay,’ Duke said as he got in beside her. ‘Let’s see what Dagher was up to.’
They crossed the Thames on the Albert Bridge, then drove down King’s Road and took a right.
Sarah was expecting a modern, white building, but all she saw were red-bricks. Many of them looked residential, apart from one which had a huge black door in the centre of the façade. It was four storeys tall and all of the windows had blinds.
‘That’s the place, apparently.’
There was no signage outside to confirm that they’d found the laboratory, but Sarah pulled up onto double-yellow lines and killed the engine.
Almost immediately, the large door opened and a man dressed in a security guard uniform trotted down the stairs to her car.
‘You can’t park here, I’m afraid.’
Sarah showed him her ID. ‘Commander Keogh, Commander Duke. We’re here to see the person in charge.’
The security guard briefly turned away from them and muttered something into his radio. Then he turned back.
‘Okay, through the gates and down the ramp. You’ll be met there.’
Sarah looked to where he was pointing and saw a huge metal grille swinging open. She started the car and drove through, and ten yards in she saw the ramp he’d mentioned. She drove down it and found herself in an underground car park. There were no spaces on the first level, so she went down the next ramp and found a spot in the far corner.
‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ she said to Duke.
‘Me neither. I thought this was a residential area.’
As soon as they got out of the car a man in a dark suit approached them. He held out his hand.
‘John Farmer,’ he said, shaking Sarah’s hand first. ‘The commissioner told me to expect you. Come, this way.’
Farmer had an American accent, though Sarah couldn’t pinpoint whereabouts in the States he was from. He led them through a doorway and into a small chamber, where he pressed a button and the whirring of the elevator’s mechanism kicked into life.
Gray Genesis Page 4
