“Tea? I’m the first to love a cup of tea boss but this is no time for tea. I will not and cannot stand by and be criticised by a man who has had his own hand involved – in this case in slashing police numbers.” Now it had become political.
“To cap it all my senior analyst is also missing – along with one of the main Operation Orion intelligence sources. Gone. Without a trace. This is not a team of amateurs here Minister. They are hunting in packs.” He was calming now.
“This is a group that have targeted this city over and over again and each time, they get away with it. And everything I see tells me that this is the beginning. The worst is yet to come. They are organised. Practically no signals or electronics. Using Blackberries. Face-to-face meetings that we never see. They hold a few aces, they want them all. And it’s going to cost the United Kingdom dearly. You lose face. I’ve lost three possibly four staff. They have families. And so do the rest of my team. And sir, so do I, and I want to return home safely.”
Mike Collins leant forward, the eyeball was still there watching the ongoing debate but it had turned to face him, twisted, the only thing it didn’t do was blink.
“I have to back my DCI, Prime Minister. The Orion squad have invested countless hours and resources to prevent the UK’s potentially darkest hour since the Second World War. You owe them at least a debt of gratitude. As he pointed out eloquently he has lost staff, and that means the Met Police family has too. Two and two unconfirmed is too many.”
Cade stood. Watching hawk-like for the opening.
“Prime Minister, Home Secretary, Mr Halford. If I may?”
“Ah the inevitable police tag team!” Halford grinned at anyone who would reciprocate.
“Well the way I see it someone has to look after us – because you as our minister appear to be doing sweet Fanny Adams about the situation.”
Cade had nothing to lose. Financially secure. Independent. Carefree – except for the fact that he was a hated man, hated by a sociopath who was also secure in both financial and physical support. And he was on the prowl for Cade and anyone else who associated with him.
Cole gestured with his hands, palm outwards. ‘Be my guest. Why not, everyone else has.’ Cole actually liked Cade and he knew his Home Secretary did too. He was a case of what you saw you got, wrapped into a sophisticated package that was grounded in reality. Certainly wasn’t spy material – he was a well-trained and instinctive cop at heart and they were a rare commodity. Roberts and Daniel were cut from the same cloth and Roberts’ two DSs were their equal.
“Thank you. I left the room as I needed to take a call from my Field Intelligence Officer.”
“The drunk you employed to crunch data because you daren’t let him out onto the streets Cade?”
“Need I remind you minister that I choose to be here. Unlike you, I don’t need to work. However, yes Mr Halford, that’s correct. David Francis. A man who is five times better drunk than most sober people. He’s far too dangerous to let him off the leash, never know what he might get up to – or who he might visit – better still, what he might find. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to encourage a few people in this room to take their collective heads out of the sand, before they turn to dust.” The Tiger shark had just met the Great White.
“As I was saying, I took a call. The Maritime Unit responded to a job about a body in the Thames. Turns out a little girl on a plane spotted her. She’d make a good cop one day. The body has been recovered and is being examined at the scene. It is female and has a hand missing.”
He looked across at Roberts. “Sorry Jason. Truly.”
Roberts heard what he feared the most. Stared at Cade, then Halford. He would and could happily break the man’s neck.
“The second bit of news, and call me pedantic is that the London Stone is made from limestone.”
Halford, the Tiger was cruising in the shadows, away from the sunlight, his stripes disguising him well, a fearsome predator. Laced with sarcasm, a slowly dripping tap of disdain.
“Well, thank you Jack for your enlightening lesson in geology.” He clapped sarcastically, emphasising each sound. Holding the hands together just long enough, but he was clapping alone.
Lane caught Halford’s eye and in in own inimitable style mouthed an expletive that no one else saw.
“No, Police Minister, it was actually a lesson in how to differentiate fact from supposition.” The Great White nudged him back into the dark, tore a few deep gashes into his flanks.
“The London Stone is limestone not sandstone. It’s a fact, I deal in them, they are really very rewarding – perhaps, if I may, you should try it sometime.” He looked at his fingernails, needlessly examining them but deliberately stalling. “And I know where the stone is.”
Halford was bitten in two and sinking.
Sassy Lane looked, almost pleaded with her eyes. “What? Talk to me.”
“It’s in the river ma’am – as it happens across the water from where they have found the body of Cynthia Bell earlier today. Call it her last act of defiance. A naked and cold middle finger up at Mr Stefanescu and his cohorts.”
“I’m not with you, how do you know this? If as you say Miss Bell is sadly dead?”
“Sadly I have to agree, for I am certain Cynthia is no longer with us. But she left a legacy. Her demise was the catalyst for Carrie O’Shea to escape. They had been held at a disused factory on the Kent side of the River Thames. Desolate and off the radar. That is where the Seventh Wave team have been operating from. Thirty minutes from this office. Hiding, in plain sight. I have taken the liberty of sending armed units from Kent into the area to sweep the place.”
Lane was delighted, saddened, but delighted nonetheless. “Sorry Jack, call me docile. “How do we know all of this?”
“Because I have just had word that Miss O’Shea is in an air ambulance on her way to hospital.”
Roberts clenched his fists, wanting to punch the air. “Yes. Oh this is outstanding news.” He needed some and cared not for protocols. It would take a cold man to divert his new-found energy.
“She was found by a member of the public. Hypothermic, close to death, injured but alive. It transpires that the body of a male was found at the scene, alongside her. Kent Police are dealing with that too. We will send DSs McGee and Fisher to the scene now. I will head to the hospital with your blessing. May I venture to suggest that the time for British nicety has ended Prime Minister? We need, as my dear father once said ‘To put our boot up someone’s arse’ and like Cinderella the boot fits my foot just fine.”
“I hear you Mr Cade, but proceed with caution. The lion’s den is a dangerous place. But moving on, this is good news. Good news indeed. The male, can we, dare we assume that this is the body of Stefanescu?”
“Sadly not. The body is mutilated and missing an eye. I may be wrong ma’am, but if I were a betting man, which I was on one occasion, it will be the one that was staring at your police minister. Its owner was a colourful character who had provided lifesaving intelligence to both Mr Roberts and I, often at great personal risk. The very least you can do is organise some form of acknowledgement for his family, if indeed he had one. His codename was Harrier. We will raise a glass at the Sanctuary at some point, you are welcome to join us.”
“Thank you but I must decline. Do send our best wishes to Miss O’Shea.” She turned to a practically silent Elena Petrova.
“And you Miss Petrova, you must be delighted that Miss O’Shea is alive?”
“Delighted. Of course.” She pushed her chair back, crossed her legs.
She wasn’t delighted and three men in the room knew why.
And so did Lane. She was a women after all.
“All you have to do now is find the men that did this. Before I do.”
Cole wrapped up the meeting, handed responsibility back to ADC Mike Collins then stood causing everyone to follow suit.
“Not since the Falklands War has there been such a threat to the British reputation. This
is no longer about money. This is about that reputation, a reputation built over hundreds of years, when the Union Jack flew proudly across the world, and being British meant something. I will not stand by and watch that standard torn to shreds by some nomadic thieves. We do not negotiate with terrorists, and in my book these people are next in line.”
He slipped the cool blue glasses from his face, laid them down, lenses up, on the overly-large and immaculate table and looked, slowly and deliberately at each person in the room.
“They want to play the game of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth then so be it. Gloves off. No media. Chatham House Rules. The first person to discuss this beyond the teams represented in this room deals with me and me alone. Need I remind you the Commissioner and his Deputy are out of the country but looking to return within days? With that in mind, there is something else you all need to know.”
It was clear that something else was concerning him. He looked across at his most senior intelligence advisor, waited for the nod.
“Some new information came to light last night, via an electronic interception. The threat to London has been increased. Tenfold. We now sit at the next level team. By March something is going to happen that will cause chaos. And right now, we haven’t got a clue.”
Cole exhaled slowly, allowing him time to think, to compose himself. “Eight weeks. And that troubles me, keeps me awake at night. I will never say ‘on my watch’ – that’s reserved for our colonial cousins.”
He looked down at the table, picked up the tooth, examined it.
“But what I will say is this, you heard the Home Secretary. Let’s go and remind a few people that the British lion has these.”
He held the tooth up between his thumb and forefinger.
“But much, much larger. The meeting is over. Take care of each other.”
The room was empty in minutes. Two staff arrived and exhibited the body parts and the caterers wheeled away the tea and coffee that was never served.
Roberts grabbed a handful of biscuits off the trolley and walked to his car with Daniel. Cade hung back.
“Elena. You OK?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“You seem tense.”
“Wouldn’t you be if you knew the man you were related to was the greatest threat to a country since a war that happened before I was even born?”
She had a point.
“Fair enough. But you are safe. With me.”
“I can look after myself Jack. You know that. I don’t need any one to act as a body guard.” She smiled but it was false. She knew, he knew and at that point something had changed. “Least of all you.”
He walked her to the car. Opened the door, let her sit down, avoiding the flash of thighs, then closed it and walked around to John Daniel who was stood on the pavement leaning into the stiffening northerly.
“She OK Jack?” Daniel was hunched own against the biting wind.
“No. And I don’t know why.” Cade shivered, but he was far from cold.
As they drove back to their office through thickening snow flurries none of the four spoke. Daniel’s phone vibrating brought an end to the silence.
“John Daniel.”
“John, good to hear your voice. Johnnie Hewett.”
“Well, hello. I thought you had headed off into the sunset? Last time I saw you, you were wearing a paper suit and the kind of half-smile of someone that had stood in cat shit and come out smelling of frangipani.”
“Hardly. You can’t put a good man down. You know that better than most. Talking of sweet smelling tropical flowers how is the lovely Elena?”
“She’s fine. Sends her regards.”
“Yes, she looks it.” A less than delicate hint that Hewett was watching them.
“We need to meet JD.”
“OK. Any reason?”
“Ever the cop. JD I have two members that need to join your team.”
“Won’t the Home Secretary have to authorise that?”
“Oh come along John, a minor issue. Yes, of course, she signed this one off days ago. Where can we meet? This evening. Late.”
“Overt or covert?”
“Somewhere that our friend Alex won’t easily stumble across us but not a police station of government building. We will be involved in history making, why not surprise me with the location. And bring Jack.”
“What about the other members of the team?” He looked at Roberts, eyebrows raised.
“Just Jack. For now. And JD, take me off hands-free for a moment.”
“OK. Go ahead.”
“John, you need to trust me. I’m wearing a new suit these days. What you saw last time was a carapace. We fly the same colours, you just need to accept that and convince your protégé too.”
“Alright.” He thought for a moment. He had a friend that had always promised to help. Now was the time to make the call.
“I’ll ring you back in an hour.”
He did. It was arranged.
Chapter Forty-Four
Arriving back at the unit the four people went their separate ways. Before that happened Daniel had stopped Cade in the car park.
“Jack. I know you are heading to see Carrie. I need you back here for nine, nine thirty latest – we’ve got a date. Send her my love.”
“See you later Jack. Say hello to her for me.” Elena’s words were sincere but her look said otherwise. It had nothing to do with the temperature outside. She let the door close behind her without looking back.
It was warmer in the main secure office where she was formally introduced to David Francis, she pulled a typist’s chair alongside Francis, smiled and said, “Thanks Jason. Hello David. I am here to help. What do you need?”
Francis rubbed his eyes which were sore from scanning the myriad systems employed by the Met Police and a few others that he now had access to – she was a sight for his sore eyes that’s for sure. Cade was a lucky man, but there appeared to be a growing gap between him and the vixen that leaned into his personal space, sweetly smiling, smelling even better. Roberts has summed it up best. ‘Jack’s got the keys to the sports car Dave, but it’s locked firmly in the garage.’
Francis owed Cade more than a debt, financial or otherwise. He owed him his life from a time they would both rather forget.
“I’d love another set of eyes to look at what I’m finding. I also need your knowledge of how this man thinks. Do you know what I’d like most of all though Miss Elena? Coffee. Strong and plenty of it.”
“Are you allowed out?”
“Absolutely just don’t take me to any bars.”
“It’s a date but please call me El.”
Roberts gathered the team together for an impromptu brief – told them what the various ministers had told him. Updated them on the situation with their colleagues Cynthia and Carrie. He needed sustenance too.
“Richard, do the team a favour, go and fetch some coffee from across the road, cake too. Lots of it. My shout.”
He walked back to his office and leaned back in the furrowed leather chair. Thinking. Trying to work out the next event.
“Penny for them? I used to do just that. Lean back in that very chair, close my eyes and hope the answer would land in my lap.” JD leant against the door frame smiling. “You look tired mate, why don’t you kick the door shut for half an hour?”
“I’ll rest when this is done JD. Or when I’m dead. We should have crushed this group when we had the chance.”
“The gloves were on, we both know that. Last time they marauded around this great city we treated them like amateurs. That was a mistake. Jack was right. Still too many questions left unanswered.”
“Such as?” Roberts was doodling, filling in boxes on his desk jotter.
“Where do I start? Alex – as much as I hate personalising him. He’s a clever man. But he hasn’t got this far without having people in his back pocket. He’s swanned around Europe, ignored by police units, practically allowed to walk free from prison, and tra
ined his men using our banking system as a proving ground. Yes, they’ve made money, but it’s not enough to sustain their lifestyle. He’s successful in his own right in his home city.”
“He should bloody well stay there!”
“Agreed. You could say he wants to send them global, bring in the money. But he craves something else. He’s got money, even when the authorities take it from him he has more stashed here, there and offshore. What he has is a cold heart, but what he lacks is deep confidence – often the case with a sociopathic type.”
“He’d make a good friend of Harry Bloody Halford.”
“Well, given what our friend Michael Blake told us, that ship may have already sailed.”
“I don’t get it. Not at all.”
“I do. Got a minute?”
“For you ten. But let’s make sure the cake doesn’t all go. Those greedy buggers out there are like a pack of dogs where a Swiss roll is concerned.”
“My theory, which is based upon years of experience as a police officer, personal gut feeling and a long and happy marriage where second guessing has been my saviour, is this, it all started with Nikolina. She turns up here in the UK. Or, rather, she leaves Spain, not her home, having tried to kill her unintentional husband and leaves her daughter behind in Europe, for all intents, to look after herself. Makes no sense. Why not head somewhere else? Take her daughter with her?”
“Agreed.” Roberts had drawn a scale replica of the Houses of Parliament. He nodded, gesturing for JD to continue.
“She came here for a reason. The original notes that Jack took at East Midlands Airport, all those years ago, state she was coming to London to meet someone. Find him, you find the start point to this maze.” Daniel took a second to recharge.
“Or her?”asked Roberts, showing he was still engaged with the conversation, whilst sketching the Thames and the Embankment.
“Indeed. But no, it’s a him. Mrs Daniel always says the way to a man’s heart is via his stomach, whereas the way into a woman’s bed is directly linked to the size of the man’s…credit card.”
Seven of Swords (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 3) Page 42
