Cara stared out over the city.
‘It’s all so crazy, isn’t it? Look out there,’ she continued, ‘just a couple of years ago it was life as normal—people being rude, yes for sure, but mostly they were kind at heart. Now, when someone smiles at you in the street it’s so odd you wonder what’s wrong. Will it ever go back to the way it was?’
‘I don’t know,’ Kralinsky said. ‘It would be like trying to shovel all our newly discovered unpleasantness back into a Pandora’s Box and nailing down the lid, wouldn’t it?’
‘That’s a frightening thought,’ Cara said. ‘Do you really think Corsfield’s books have unleashed the dark side of us?’ Cara asked.
‘I wish I didn’t,’ Kralinsky said, ‘but the more I see, the less likely this feels like a temporary condition. Cara, I was in the market a couple of weeks ago. It’s the same place I’ve been going to for years and I know all the staff. The owner is a great guy and takes on workers who aren’t exactly Mensa International, but have the most gentle and caring personalities. Well, the cash register said six dollars eighty five and I only had six eighty on me. The girl took the money and said she’d catch me next time. When I turned to leave, the owner charged across the store and began yelling at her. It was sickening. The girl burst into tears and he just kept raving on and on about his bloody profitability. There’s her sobbing, and him yelling, then when I offer to hand something back he tells me to fuck off. The next thing he does is fire her, tells her right there to get her coat and go.’
‘My God! What did you do?’
‘I went ballistic. “For a dime?” I shout at him. “And are you seriously ruining someone’s life for doing the right thing by a customer?” I was shaking with rage, Cara, hardly able to get my words out and I haven’t even looked at Corsfield’s books.’
‘That’s a different sort of anger, Kralinsky, you know that,’ Cara said, putting her hand on his. ‘What you were feeling was moral outrage. The problem is that sort of rational anger is being supplanted by a raw and primal indignation—does that make sense?’
Kralinsky nodded.
‘But I don’t have to like it.’
‘That’s why it’s so important to get to the bottom of this,’ Cara continued, ‘and try to stop it. Maybe you were right in not giving Sarah the big picture—we’ll never really know. There are terrible, irrational things happening all over the globe now.’
‘There are,’ Kralinsky agreed, ‘and it’s a not too well known fact that eight of the world’s top ten flexi-downloads are books on anger management. You don’t have to guess what the two top ones are.’
‘How did you find that out? It’s almost impossible to get those stats, isn’t it?’
Kralinsky laughed.
‘That’s the trouble with having a team of talented people working for you. They’re so keen they’ll co-ordinate research to track down the impossible even in their spare time. I’ve got them sifting through the minute details of all Argon’s past and present employees right now looking for a clue to what Payne had planned and they’re working unasked round the clock. They truly are wonderful people and they’ve taken my advice to resist the temptation to read Corsfield’s books.’
‘Pity that checkout girl in the market wasn’t working for someone like you, Kralinsky.’ Cara said.
‘Not a pity at all,’ Kralinsky chortled, ‘who do you think the independent contractor is, supplying drinks for the all-nighters and ordering them off to bed when it’s time to get some sleep?’
*
Kralinsky wouldn’t have been in quite such a jovial mood if he’d known that the reason Ethan Cross hadn’t called Cara or himself was quite simple— he’d been stripped of his smartcom and flexi-pad, had a head injury tended to, and been told to wait.
*
And Kralinsky was still enjoying his own humor when his smartcom buzzed. Frowning, as he saw the unidentified encryption on screen, he picked it up. The unknown caller was using an emergency channel—something that had never happened before.
28.
Time to tell
Sam turned to the four men behind her and signaled them to move. They were Australian Federal Police Special Ops, seconded to her and Ben by the Commissioner, John Garrick. A request for assistance was backed by a quiet phone call from their President back in Washington, and the fact that Sam had trained Garrick himself in hostage negotiation five years earlier meant they’d been given the best men available.
They’d decided to move on Argon’s mystery man soon after his surprise appearance in the hotel. At the desk, Geoffrey had been honest with him—up to a point, but failed to mention Ben and Sam’s connection with Sarah.
At first the man had been puzzled when Geoffrey informed him that Sarah had been checked out earlier than scheduled, but this had quickly turned to concern when he discovered that she herself hadn’t actually been back to the hotel and that her belongings had been removed.
‘What do you think?’ Sam asked, as they watched Ethan Cross slowly pace across the foyer, obviously deep in thought. They were in Geoffrey’s office, having been summoned to the back entrance by his excited message.
‘Doesn’t make sense,’ Ben said. ‘He puts her on a plane and then follows her almost immediately. And now he doesn’t know where she is.’
‘And we do,’ Sam murmured. ‘Do you think there’s some rivalry happening in Argon?’
Ben sighed.
‘I hadn’t thought of it that way. I just assumed someone had their wires crossed. We don’t need this Sam. When does surveillance get to Paddington?’
‘They can’t get into the building opposite until tonight,’ Sam said. ‘It’s too exposed in daylight. All we can do is watch the front and back in case Sarah leaves. We can’t even listen in. There’s an electronic mask covering the building.’
‘That’s heavy duty security for a novel, don’t you think?’ Ben said, thinking hard as he watched Cross return to the reception desk.
‘Sam, if Cross gets antsy and starts ricocheting around trying to find Sarah, she might be moved somewhere else. He’s obviously been put on the outer and we can’t afford to lose her.’
‘You think we should grab him?’
‘It’s a hard call Sam, but I don’t see any choice,’ Ben said, ‘we’re still fumbling in the dark here. Maybe Cross will talk, you never know.’
Sam was about to remind him that hell doesn’t freeze over that easily, when Geoffrey opened the door.
‘I’ve just checked Mr Cross into one of our standard deluxe suites,’ he told them. ‘He’s on his way there now. Funny thing is that he insisted on being given something very moderate.’
‘Why would he do that?’ Ben asked. ‘The guy has squillions.’
‘Well he was very specific,’ Geoffrey said. ‘He asked for accommodation on the ground floor with direct access to one of the pools. He said he was nervous of heights.’
‘Bullshit,’ Ben laughed, ‘among a hundred other things, he’s a chopper pilot and works in one of New York’s tallest buildings. What he wants is an escape route.’
‘That does it,’ Sam said, reaching for her smartcom. ‘Let’s offer Mr Cross some very personal protection before he screws everything up.’
‘What the fuck was that?’ asked Geoffrey from half-way out the door.
Sam’s hand froze as a second explosion rattled the office window.
‘Sounds like bombs going off somewhere close by,’ Ben said.
‘I’ll let you know,’ said Geoffrey, closing the office door and heading for reception.
By the time he returned, Sam had spoken to two very powerful people, one in Washington and the other in Canberra, allowing her to put arrangements in place that would have normally taken days.
‘There were two bombs,’ Geoffrey told them, impressing them with his calm demeanor. ‘They went off about five hundred meters … umm, yards away to you, in a disused car park. There have been no injuries but there’s rioting in the city centre and a
bunch of crazies are attacking a TV station there in Martin’s Place.’
‘OK, let’s assume we’ll still get our help here in time,’ Sam said. ‘Geoffrey, can you put that pool out of commission for us in about an hour from now?’
‘Easy,’ Geoffrey beamed. ‘I’ll do it now. We’ve another two swimming areas, so it’s not an issue. I’ve also put Mr Cross in a quiet corridor. There’s only one other room occupied there and the people are out for the rest of the day.’
‘Brilliant!’ Ben said. ‘You know if you and your family ever fancy coming to the US, we’ll have a job ready for you.’
*
When the knock came, Cross had unpacked his bag and showered. A small scanner he already had directed at the door told him there were at least two weapons out in the corridor. The problem was, were they held by people he was expecting?
‘Hold on,’ he called.
Ethan was taking a gamble. Sarah had been spirited away and he suspected Mark Payne’s hand in that. But how much did the CEO know? He hadn’t exactly been secretive and his job was to get close to her. He’d wanted to force Payne’s hand and it had worked a little too well. The man was on his way to Sydney, if not already here. But Sarah—he hadn’t anticipated her disappearance at all. And yet he should have. He’d become too confident and lost sight of Payne’s intelligence and dangerous ability to think outside the square. He looked at the door. Now he was sticking his head right into the lion’s den. Quietly, he opened the sliding doors leading to the pool and walked through them. If the right people were waiting for him, they would also be waiting out here.
*
Sam keyed her smartcom.
‘Ben, he’s coming out the back.’
She glanced around. Her men were in position.
She watched Cross look around the lush sub-tropical poolside gardens for a moment before taking a step towards her position. She nodded briefly towards the officer crouched alongside her.
‘Police, Mr Cross,’ he said, his voice carrying clearly across the twenty or so yards that separated them. ‘We are armed, so please remain still and keep your hands in sight.’
At her signal, two officers rose and began to approach with her. Cross was standing quite still, his face reflecting a quiet acceptance of their presence.’
They were five yards away when she spoke.
‘Expecting us, were you Ethan?’ she asked, holstering her weapon and reaching for a set of Kevlar wrist restrainers.
Ethan smiled patiently.
‘I wondered how long it would take you. We do have to talk.’
Sam looked into the man’s calm face, opening her mouth to reply.
*
When the woman he knew as Sam Hawke stepped into view, Ethan allowed his breath to release. The fact that he was staring down the barrel of a large automatic pistol didn’t faze him. She was a firearms expert and knew how to use it along with a host of other hardware.
As he saw her holster the gun smoothly, he began to lift his wrists up so she could put the restrainers on. He didn’t bother to tell her they wouldn’t be necessary—she probably wouldn’t believe him. Lifting his hands no doubt saved his life but it had disastrous consequences for Hawke.
*
Sam was about to tell Cross that they’d waited for him to have a shower before interrupting his holiday when he shifted his hands towards her. She wasn’t alarmed by the movement but it distracted her gaze from his face sufficiently to notice the green dot of a laser sight flicker onto his chest. It wasn’t theirs, her mind swiftly registered—theirs were always red.
With a shout, Sam slammed her fists forward into Cross’s upper body, the unexpected jolt sending him flying backwards. Off-balance, Sam staggered forward. She knew she was in harm’s way but couldn’t do anything about it. The high velocity bullet meant for Cross slammed into her back and all she heard as she was catapulted forward was the crackle of gunshots as her men returned fire. Don’t kill him, she thought as her world went black, we need information, but it was too late.
*
Cross was gently lifting Hawke’s body out of a rhododendron bush when he was sent sprawling again, this time by a foot crashing into the side of his head.
‘Get away from her, motherfucker,’ Ben yelled, dropping by Sam’s side. ‘If this is anything to do with you, you’ll get more than a kicking, believe me.’
*
Ethan, blood streaming down his face and dripping steadily onto his shirt, was bundled through the poolside gardens, through a side gate and into a waiting car. Behind heavily tinted windows, an officer checked his head wound, stemming the flow of blood with a sterile pad.
‘Stitches,’ he said quietly to the driver, who nodded as the vehicle pulled away from the curb.
‘Where are we going?’ Ethan asked, without expecting a reply.
Ethan mind was churning as the vehicle headed west. The bullet that Sam Hawke had taken had been meant for him, and with someone hacking out a plan to kill him within a couple of hours of his arrival, he must be a serious liability. It had to be Payne and, if it was, he’d lost his last thread to Sarah.
He watched as the special ops man threaded his way effortlessly through the heavy traffic. Both the driver and his guard wore impassive expressions and Ethan wondered what they were thinking about. Did they have young kids, waiting for their Dads to come home to play ball and help them with their homework? Were they ever afraid they’d never go home? And Sarah, where was she now? Alone? Afraid? If she was—he knew it was entirely his fault.
*
‘This way please!’
Head throbbing murderously, Ethan followed the special ops man. His blood-encrusted clothes had been taken from him and now, dressed in a checked plaid shirt and large baggy pants, he felt like a mountain hick. All I need is a cob pipe and a straw hat, he thought wryly. He reached up to touch the skin around his temple as they walked. It was tight where the six stitches had been expertly placed by an extremely attractive though verbally unresponsive doctor. As soon as he was cleaned up she’d been replaced by the special ops man.
They stopped outside an unmarked door which his escort opened and then nodded to him to enter.
‘I’m glad to see all that blood was just a scratch,’ Ben Cox said, standing up and extending his hand.
Ethan took it gratefully. He’d been expecting a considerably worse reception and shuddered to think what a combination of US and Australian Special Forces unpleasantness might have entailed.
‘How’s Sam?’ Ethan asked.
‘She’ll be here shortly,’ Ben replied. ‘She’s still talking to your friend Mr Kralinsky, and my very good friend, Cara Cortez.
Ethan felt a huge weight lifting from his battered head. He’d pleaded with his guard to deliver Kralinsky’s encrypted emergency number to Ben, hoping that whatever had happened to Sam hadn’t affected his judgment.’
‘How did Sam …?’
‘… cellular, boron carbide enhanced body amour—a new lightweight design dreamed up by the Aussies,’ Ben said. ‘Luckily, the bastard was using only nine mil.’
Ben’s expression turned grim.
‘Unfortunately our guys responded with lethal force and your would-be assassin was killed. It would have good to have had the opportunity for a chat.’
‘But, pleasantries aside, Mr Cross,’ he said, as Sam came into the room, ‘you’ve been playing us like puppets, haven’t you?’
Ethan nodded.
‘Not without good reason,’ he admitted, ‘and I apologies. Going back over many years, there’s been too much of an investment in all of this, and what began as a simple journey of revenge has morphed into something quite complex.’
‘And you kept us out of the loop,’ Sam accused.
Ethan shook his head.
‘Not entirely. We needed you to stay with us, but there’s no way we could be in direct or indirect contact. We could only leave traces for you to pick up on and stay with us.’
‘Like?’ Ben a
sked, staring at Ethan.
‘Like Cara’s abduction and the pig’s blood, the poorly concealed and cheap listening devices in her apartment, the gateway into Redray Seven’s research data. We even left traces of installation dust for you to find all over Sarah Marsden’s place in Sunnyside.’
‘I’ve talked to Kralinsky,’ Sam said. ‘As a public figure he’s known to us and you’re not. You’ve been this shadow flitting in and out of the situation and it seems to us that you’ve been muddying the waters.’
‘Sam, Ben, even with Cara’s and Kralinsky’s endorsements I know it appears that I’m one of the bad guys. I owe you an explanation and I’m prepared to be completely open if you’ll hear me out.’
Ethan knew that this opportunity to come clean was probably Sarah’s only chance. Payne was hell-bent on producing the last book and, when he’d done it, he’d be sure to eliminate any trace of his involvement with both Sarah and Zachary Corsfield high on his list.
Ethan explained everything, his early life, his involvement with Kralinsky, his long-term friendship with Juan and Cara. He explained his decision to take Cara out of the equation when Juan was murdered, saving both her and Ben’s lives. With Juan gone, his trusted connection to the White House had been severed. Being aware of how far Payne’s tentacles reached, he and Kralinsky had decided to assist Ben and Sam as much as possible but only from a distance. To do anything obvious was just too dangerous.
‘Mark Payne’s plan for the last book has to be enormous,’ Ethan concluded. ‘His hidden subliminal triggers in the first two have had a terrible effect on social behaviors already. That’s why we’ve had to let the game run—it’s critical that we find out what he has in mind for Corsfield’s final in the trilogy and do anything we have to in order to stop the process. Payne trusted me only enough to do the dirty work of coercing Sarah into ghosting Corsfield’s book—he was clever enough to work out that we’d end up getting on well—and we weren’t aware of his other evil tricks to soften Sarah up until recently. As to the rest of his plans—he certainly didn’t trust me enough to tell me anything useful to us now.’
The Last Book. A Thriller Page 22
