by Louise Voss
Dreading the thought of handing Jack over to his father, she reached across and touched her son’s hair. He looked up briefly from the film he was watching on the plane’s entertainment system, earphones blocking out the adults’ conversation, and smiled, showing the gap between his front teeth.
‘I’m going to see Bradley again,’ he informed her.
Kate took comfort in the fact that he was so excited about the trip, and about seeing his dad and his friend Bradley, but she felt sick at the thought of him being so far away. Vernon had promised to take some time off work but, while he adored Jack, he had never been the most attentive of fathers. And he had a new girlfriend now, Shirl, although Kate suspected she was hardly as new to the scene as Vernon claimed.
Paul sat beside Kate, looking pale. He had been anxious and restless ever since Harley turned up. The MI6 man’s presence had brought back into vivid focus memories of that night two years ago when Paul had looked on helpless as his twin brother sacrificed his own life to stop Gaunt once and for all. As hard it was to believe, there were others, still at liberty, who had shared Gaunt’s warped ambitions and engaged in a sick race – or, as Gaunt had called it, ‘a delicious intellectual game’ – with each other to create the world’s deadliest virus. It was a secret competition, with little cells of scientists across the globe taking part.
Immediately after the events at Gaunt’s lab, Kate and Paul had been interviewed by Harley, and Kate had told him that she remembered Gaunt talking about someone called Mangold. Harley had raised an eyebrow at that and told them that the name Charles Mangold had been found in papers in Gaunt’s office; papers that showed a number of large deposits into Gaunt’s bank account.
After that, Paul had spent hours scouring the internet, trying to find Charles Mangold, but there was only so much he could do online. To track down Mangold’s current location, Paul would have needed to travel to America, but a criminal record, acquired during his days as a hacker, made this impossible. All he could do was pass on the information to the relevant law enforcement agencies and seethe with frustration when they failed to take it any further, and Harley and his employers appeared to have done nothing about Mangold either, much to Paul’s consternation.
It had taken some major string-pulling by Harley to get Paul a visa for this trip, but Kate was glad she’d insisted on him coming too. She kissed Paul’s stubbly cheek, drawing a smile.
Jason Harley slipped into the seat across the aisle from them. According to the map on the jumbo jet’s TV screens, they were halfway across the Atlantic, the tiny cartoon plane on the monitor edging ever closer to Dallas. Harley had surprised them with seats in First Class, the first time Kate or Paul had ever turned left when getting on a plane.
Paul glanced at Jack to make sure he wasn’t able to hear them, then leaned across and demanded: ‘So, what do you know about the people who planted the bomb at the hotel? Has no one taken responsibility for it since you got the anonymous message?’
Harley winced. ‘Please keep your voice down. But no, they haven’t.’
Paul dropped his voice. ‘Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that a good percentage of the world’s top virologists were murdered shortly after a new killer virus breaks out in America?’
Harley didn’t respond.
‘What I don’t understand is why you spooks were involved in this before the bomb went off, when it was “just” a viral outbreak. I thought that kind of thing was dealt with by the World Health Organization?’
Irritation flitted across Harley’s face at the word ‘spooks’, but he kept his tone neutral. ‘That’s a fair question. But I can’t divulge any more information to a civilian at this point.’
‘A civilian? That’s a hell of a nice way to put it. You’re dragging our family across the globe. The least you can do is tell us what’s going on.’
‘Please don’t raise your voice.’
‘Why, because you don’t want people to get scared? If some horrific African virus has broken out and someone is blowing up virologists, maybe they should be scared.’
‘Paul.’ Kate laid her hand on his arm. ‘Come on, stay calm. You’re going to scare Jack. You’re scaring me.’
In truth, Jack was oblivious, still glued to a movie, the volume pumped up to block out the roar of the jets that filled the cabin. But she wished Paul wouldn’t talk about virologists being blown up. Not when Isaac had been one of the victims, and when she was a virologist herself.
Paul hissed across the aisle to Harley, ‘You must have suspected terrorists were involved before the bomb. Otherwise, why were you sent to recruit Kate?’
Harley blinked. ‘Mr Wilson.’
Paul laughed sarcastically. ‘“Mr Wilson”? Please, I feel we’re close enough for you to call me Paul.’
‘Mr Wilson, we are in a public space. We agreed to allow you to come on this trip purely in order to make Ms Maddox happy. Other than the desire to keep Ms Maddox happy, there is nothing to stop me putting you on the first plane home.’
‘It’s Doctor Maddox, actually,’ said Paul, with more than a hint of aggression in his voice.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. Call me Kate. But you’re not sending Paul home, OK?’ Kate interjected.
Harley put his hands up in an international peacekeeping gesture. ‘Listen, I’ll tell you more when we get to California. I promise. I will tell you everything you need to know.’
6
They landed at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport in the late afternoon. Kate felt jittery from caffeine and jet lag, and Jack was clingy and grizzling. Probably as much from the back-to-back cartoons on the in-flight entertainment as the prospect of their parting, Kate thought. She hoped so, anyway. It had been a really tough time for Jack. He’d adored Isaac, and it had been confusing and painful for him to witness Callum’s anguish. Kate had been proud of him, though, especially when he voluntarily gave Callum his prized Lego Transformer, ‘to cheer him up’.
Thanks to Harley, they bypassed Customs and Immigration. Clearly there were some advantages to travelling on Agency business. Kate had refused to be parted from her son until she saw with her own eyes that his father was there to take safe delivery of him, so they all made their way to Arrivals. As they passed through the door, Harley fell back, not wanting Vernon to see him and start asking awkward questions.
Vernon was waiting on the other side of the barrier, talking to a skinny seen-better-days bottle blonde in a tight animal-print skirt and scuffed cork-soled wedge sandals. That must be Shirley, thought Kate. He was so engrossed that he failed to register Jack’s arrival until his son was right in front of him, jumping up and down, his good mood temporarily restored, shouting ‘Daddy!’
‘Oh, hey, Jackie-boy, how’ya doing?’ he said at last, pausing a second longer to finish his conversation with Shirley. Kate gritted her teeth. Was this how he was going to treat Jack for the whole summer?
‘Good, Dad! Can we go and see Bradley later? I sent him an email to say I was coming to visit, and I typed it all by myself!’
Jack ducked under the rope and hugged his father round the waist, and Vernon hugged him back. Shirley ruffled Jack’s hair awkwardly, and Jack bestowed on her one of his best fake smiles.
Kate felt mollified by the expression of genuine pleasure on Vernon’s face. Then he saw her, and the smile faded considerably.
‘Kate. How are you?’ He completely ignored Paul, even though they had met on several previous occasions.
‘OK, thanks.’ Kate didn’t know what else to say. She noticed that more hair had retreated from his head, though it seemed to have redistributed itself in his ears, nose and on his chest. He’d put on weight, too. Shirl must be spoiling him, she thought.
‘Hi – you must be Shirley,’ she said, holding out her hand to the other woman. ‘I’m Kate, Jack’s mum.’
‘Hi, Kate, sure, I guessed,’ Shirley said, politely but somewhat frostily, accepting the handshake but dropping Kate’s hand as fast as humanly po
ssible.
‘So, you’re off to save the world?’ Vernon still had not made eye contact with Paul.
‘Hardly the time to be flippant,’ Paul interjected, riled at being so comprehensively blanked. Vernon continued to ignore him. Kate stepped between them.
‘Thank you for taking Jack. You will look after him, won’t you? Don’t let him go near anyone who seems sick,’ Kate blurted, earning herself a scornful look from Vernon. ‘And if any cases of Watoto are reported in Texas …’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll put him straight on a plane to Miranda’s. I got your email instructions, don’t worry.’
Shirley suddenly winced and clutched her stomach. ‘Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom,’ she blurted, and rushed off in the direction of the Ladies.
Vernon looked embarrassed. ‘She’s, ah, having a few health problems,’ he said.
‘Sorry to hear it. But I hope they won’t interfere with your ability to do stuff with Jack,’ Kate said, and Vernon gave her a scathing look.
‘I just want a quick word with him. Privately,’ she said, drawing Jack aside and kneeling down beside him so that they were at eye level. She put her arms round him, breathing in his little-boy smell: shampoo and grime and sweet-sour breath.
‘Almost time to go!’ she said, injecting a brightness into her voice. ‘You still excited about staying with Daddy for the summer?’
She felt him nod vigorously into her shoulder.
‘Bradley will be so happy to see you again. I bet he’s really missed you. You two will have lots of fun together. Daddy’s going to take you to a baseball game, and swimming, and all sorts of great stuff. Oh, and here – I’ve got something for you.’
She unwrapped one arm and delved into her shoulder bag, bringing out a plastic bag with a box inside. Jack dived into it, and held up the box. ‘A new Transformer! Thanks, Mum.’ He hugged her again, but his voice sounded suddenly flat.
‘I thought you and Bradley could put it together.’
He clung to her more tightly. ‘Mum?’
‘Yes?’
‘You know how someone on purpose blew up Isaac with a bomb?’
Before she could think of something to say to put his mind at ease, Jack continued, his lower lip trembling: ‘Don’t let Dad see me crying, but I’m really scared, ’cos Callum said his dad was murdered by terrorists who want to kill scientists, and you’re a scientist too. What if someone makes a bomb and puts it where you are, and kills you when I’m in Dallas?’
‘Oh, Jack,’ she said, rocking him gently in her arms. ‘We don’t know why those people put a bomb in Isaac’s hotel. I’m sure it wasn’t because he’s a scientist. There are thousands and thousands of scientists in the world! It won’t happen to me, I promise. Now, promise me you won’t worry about it, because I’ll be perfectly safe. I’ve got Paul to look after me.’
‘I want to look after you,’ said Jack sullenly.
‘You can send me lots of pictures and things to show me what a good time you’re having with Dad, OK? Because that’ll cheer me up, and that’s a great way to look after someone.’
‘OK,’ said Jack, wiping his nose on her shoulder. Kate straightened up and led him back to where Vernon and Paul were standing by the barrier, neither of them making the least attempt at conversation. Like bloody children! she thought, but the momentary flash of irritation immediately disappeared, to be replaced by a dull ache in her heart as she kissed her son’s smooth cheek and handed him over to his father.
From his vantage point beside the doorway to Arrivals, Harley watched the family saying their goodbyes. He couldn’t understand what Kate had ever seen in Vernon Maddox. And he wasn’t too impressed with Paul Wilson either. If it had been up to Harley, he would have left Wilson in the UK. The guy was a liability, and undeserving of such a lovely woman.
He had a word with himself. What was he doing, thinking of her as ‘lovely’ and forming opinions about her personal life? His job was to make sure Kate got to the lab and, unlike Wilson, he wasn’t about to let emotion cloud his judgment. Harley prided himself on his rational, professional approach, untainted by prejudice or feeling. Whatever was best for Britain: that was all that mattered. In the course of his career he had encountered things that had shocked him, and that most people would find horrifying or unethical. But if there was a rational case for it, Harley could assimilate anything.
It was what made him such a good MI6 officer. A safe pair of hands.
Without letting Kate and Paul out of his sight, he made for a nearby news kiosk and picked up a couple of packs of chewing gum. Glancing at the newspaper stand beside the cash register, the headline on the Dallas Morning News caught his attention. Momentarily forgetting about keeping an eye on Kate, he picked it up, swearing under his breath. The cat was out of the bag.
OUTBREAK, screamed the headline. Killer virus on loose in Los Angeles. Authorities urge citizens ‘Don’t Panic!’
Harley dropped a couple of dollars on the counter and exited the kiosk, absorbed by the story, which had pushed the news about the bombing off the front page. The newspaper reported that fifty-nine deaths had been confirmed, with many more cases in hospital. That meant it was spreading through the city even faster than they had feared. He scoured the paper, looking for any suggestion of a link between the bombing and this outbreak. Aside from a passing reference to the bombing now seeming even more unfortunate, ‘just when we need virologists the most’, no connection had been made. The media didn’t know about the message that had been left – not yet anyway.
His cellphone rang.
‘I take it you’re in Dallas?’ It was the voice of Nicholas Lepore, Harley’s Director.
‘Yes, we’ve—’
‘Good, good. Listen. There’s been a change of plan …’
When Lepore had finished his briefing and ended the call, Harley stood for a moment, wondering if the cold ripple of fear that crept up his back and prickled his armpits was a wholly rational response. He looked over at Kate and Paul. They weren’t going to like this. Not one bit.
7
‘Hey, I’m afraid we’re going to have to get a move on. Kate and I have got a plane to catch,’ said Paul. ‘A private jet, apparently,’ he added, unable to resist the chance to gloat. Sometimes Kate wished he and Vernon would just take their shirts off and wrestle, get it out of their systems.
Vernon whistled. ‘Jeez, Kate. Since when did you become a VIP?’ He turned to Jack: ‘Hey, buddy, we should have a helicopter to whizz us back to my place, right?’ He chucked Jack’s cheek, but the boy looked pale and miserable now that the actual moment of parting was upon them.
Kate bent down to give Jack one final hug, and he clung tightly to her, making her neck wet with his tears.
‘Be good, Jack, OK?’ she whispered into his ear. ‘Have an amazing summer. Do what Daddy tells you. I promise I’ll email and call whenever I can.’
‘Let’s go, Jackie-boy,’ Vernon said, as Shirley returned. He peeled his son’s hands off the back of Kate’s neck and ruffled his hair. ‘You and me and Shirley are gonna have an awesome time, right? I’ll take you swimming tomorrow, and that’s a promise.’
‘Right,’ Jack said, in a high quavery voice, unable to take his eyes off Kate. ‘Bye, Mummy.’
‘Bye, my darling.’ She had to speak in a small, tight way to prevent the lump in her throat choking her. ‘I love you.’
‘Love you too, Mum.’
And he was gone, tears pouring down his face, looking back at her over his shoulder as Vernon and Shirley led him away, dragging his little wheeled suitcase behind him. Kate closed her eyes briefly, overwhelmed by the pain of not knowing when she would next see him. She swallowed, then straightened her back. Harley appeared next to them, looking stressed.
‘Ready?’
Kate blew her nose on a tissue she found in her skirt pocket. ‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘What are we waiting for?’
There really was a private plane, a six-seater Hawker light jet norma
lly used for whisking high-ranking government officials around the country. Harley sat on his own, up near the cockpit, leaving the rear of the cabin to Kate and Paul. Neither of them could sleep. Kate’s brain was abuzz, wondering if she was doing the right thing leaving Jack with Vernon, worrying about what lay ahead. She had no idea how quickly the virus was spreading or how long they had. Scientists don’t like to work against the clock. Fighting viruses was a long, slow process, small step after small step, and Eureka moments were few and far between. She had so many questions and, like viruses, they multiplied until her head was bursting with them.
She watched Harley remove his shoes and recline in his vast leather seat, stretching out his legs. Tension had been coming off him in waves on the plane across the Atlantic, and now she saw his shoulders sink quickly into an enviable sleep. She realised that, despite everything, she liked him. He had an old-fashioned quality, a stoic, take-it-on-the-chin Britishness that made her think of army officers in black-and-white war films.
Her thoughts of Harley were interrupted by a hand squeezing her leg. She looked around, surprised to see Paul sitting there with the sort of naughty grin on his face she hadn’t seen for quite some time.
He gestured towards Harley. ‘He’s asleep and the stewardess is nowhere to be seen …’
‘Ye-es? And?’ Although Kate suspected that she had already guessed.
Paul leaned in, whispered in her ear, then took her hand. They ran into the toilet together, giggling like newlyweds. Paul slammed the lock into place and pushed Kate up against the wall. She breathed in the familiar musky scent of his skin and they kissed deeply.
‘What if he wakes up? It’s a bit bloody obvious where we’ve gone!’ she said, breaking off the kiss. She ran her hand down Paul’s hard belly towards the bulge in his jeans. He shrugged. ‘I’m sure we’re not the first, and we won’t be the last. Are you a member of the Mile High Club?’
