by PJ Adams
“I need to go.”
She saw it in his look. Last night he’d thought he owned her, and now she knew he did.
“No,” he said now. “No, I really don’t think you do.”
19. Alex
Halliday’s office, Saturday afternoon. No sign of Sunita in 24 hours.
Alex Mitchell had not felt such a gnawing ball of tension in his gut since... Well, he’d never felt this way. Which said a lot, given some of the situations he’d found himself in over the years.
Right now he was cursing Laura.
It seemed reasonable to blame her.
She was the one who’d pulled him up in his tracks.
She was the one who’d said, You really care for her, don’t you?
She was the one who’d broken through his layers of denial, his willful ignorance of his own heart.
It was all her fault.
§
He needed to take a step back. Find some kind of objectivity. Remember how to be a professional again.
They’d reported to Professor Halliday what they’d found at Sunita’s house. Or rather, what little they’d found, other than the strong impression that she hadn’t expected to spend last night away from home.
“No sign of the mobile phone?” asked Mitchell.
Halliday shook his head. “Nothing to trace. It’s been dead since she got into that car. Bowler’s phone switches to the car’s internal wifi to keep him online when he gets into that vehicle, so we think the car itself must be shielded. Chakravarti’s phone would have been isolated unless he chose to share the wifi with her, and he clearly didn’t do that.”
“What about after that? They can’t have stayed in the car all this time.” The way Halliday said her name, an almost sneering Chakravarti, only fed Mitchell’s anxiety. Since they’d last spoken to the professor, Sunita had made a definite transition from ally to, at best, a status unknown.
Halliday shrugged. “They seem determined to keep her off-grid,” he said. “We’re pretty sure we know where they are, though. We’ve traced their route on traffic cameras while they were on main roads, long enough to identify their direction. When they turned onto smaller roads with no coverage they were within twenty miles of Bowler’s BoTech research facility at Little Rissingham. Just to be sure, we’ve been monitoring the road networks in the region but there’s no sign of the car doubling back and showing up elsewhere.”
“Anything else?”
“We’ve been running facial recognition algorithms on CCTV feeds in the area, too, but there have been no matches for Chakravarti, Bowler or any of his core security team. Nothing from any airports or shipping ports within reach. No financial transactions, no network log-ins, no social media or other online activity.”
Sometimes Sunita liked to do nothing more than turn off her phone, pour a large glass of wine, and settle down with a book. She was the kind of person who needed to shut the world out every so often; that was one of the things she and Mitchell had discovered they had in common. He didn’t say this out loud, though. He knew she hadn’t just spent the evening with a book and a bottle of Pinot Noir.
“So what do we know?” he said instead. “What’s Bowler’s interest in Sunita?”
He didn’t like the way the two of them just looked at him, or the way Laura finally said, “Really, Mitch? Really?”
Halliday raised a hand to cut her off. “Bowler’s companies supply the security services, the police, local authorities and many others,” he said. “Anything from computer systems and weaponry to protective equipment and medical supplies. A cynic might point out that stoking up xenophobia, isolationism and fear of others is nothing more than a smart business strategy to boost the demand for his company’s services, and that his political career extends no further than that. That the man has no real hunger for political power, just in turning hate into profit.”
“And his interest in Sunita?”
“Her research activities focus on the body’s responses to novel pathogens, both naturally evolving and those used in biological warfare. It’s an obvious area for Bowler’s companies to move into. Her working for him is a smart move for him, and, failing that, preventing her from working for us is the next best thing. Stifling competition. Stifling her. Silencing Chakravarti would leave the field open for whatever Bowler’s companies can provide instead.”
For a moment there was a hint that Halliday remained open-minded about Sunita, the possibility that she might be victim rather than villain. Then he went on, “His recruitment of Chakravarti would not only position him well in a rapidly growing defense market, but would allow him to portray himself as a modern-day savior at the forefront of the fight against terror, serving all his agendas.”
“We don’t know he’s recruited her.”
“Sixty grand in a bank account says otherwise,” said Laura.
Mitchell glared at her. He couldn’t work her out. And now he realized, he’d barely even paused to try. He didn’t know how she felt about being sent in as his handler. How she felt about Sunita. About Sunita and him.
He still found it hard to think of Laura as anything but a cold-hearted, cheating bitch.
Perhaps this was part of that journey of the emotions Sunita talked about, that he must go through in the aftermath of the break-up: was it progress that now he thought of Laura not merely as a cold- hearted, cheating bitch, but a cold-hearted, cheating bitch who might possibly, somewhere beneath all the layers, have feelings, too?
Turning back to Halliday, Mitchell said, “So what now? What’s the strategy?”
Halliday glanced across at Laura, gave a slight nod, and she said, “We go there. We try to talk to Bowler’s people, and when that gets us nowhere we do whatever is necessary to infiltrate the place and do our own reconnaissance. We use our judgment.”
§
That word. ‘Judgment’. Mitchell knew what that meant. Company agents at their level were given absolute discretion in the field. Not so much license to kill, as license to use your brain. They would go there, see what they could found out, and act accordingly.
Outside, the spring sunshine struggling to find a little warmth, Mitchell breathed deep, then noticed that Laura was studying him.
“Just how closely are you working with Halliday?” he asked. “You seem to know far more than me.”
“I’m your handler. Information is channeled through me. You know how it works.”
It was more than that. An affinity. That class thing that still pervaded the Establishment. Laura and Halliday had it – the families, the schooling, the connections – but Mitchell...
“You always did fit in,” he said.
“And you always felt you didn’t,” said Laura. “I found that charming, once upon a time.”
Had they always been so different? Differences that might once have attracted, yet now simply marked them as too far apart?
“Don’t feel bad that she fooled you,” said Laura, and whether she meant to or not her words twisted the knife one more time.
“She hasn’t fooled me. There could be an explanation.” For her absence. For the money.
That look again, the Really, Mitch? look.
“Don’t you think we have people in Bowler’s camp?” That ‘we’ – emphasizing again that Laura was on the inside, and Mitchell on the fringes. “I was her link,” she went on. “But you know what that means, don’t you? The flip side of protection is surveillance, and all that. I was instructed to watch her because there were already suspicions about her loyalties. We haven’t just found out about the money in the last few days, Mitch. Or the phone calls and other contacts they’ve made. The doubts and frustrations she’s voiced to colleagues.”
Laura put a hand on his arm, squeezed briefly, then let the hand fall awkwardly away.
“Let’s just say Sunita Chakravarti has never been the most discreet of assets,” she went on. “She’s been in Bowler’s camp for so long now, we’ve just been waiting for them to make a move. Who knows
what secrets she’s already passed on? And what a man like Bernard Bowler might do with them?”
“If you had anything concrete on her you’d have made a move before now. This is all still circumstantial. She could be in danger, and we’re just debating whether she deserves it or not!”
“You’re right, of course.”
And she was fobbing him off.
“At the very least there’s a cloud hanging over her, after all this,” Laura continued. “She’s in for a heavy debriefing. She’ll have to be vetted all over again. Assessed. You know how it works: she’ll never be trusted again. That old chestnut: answer yes or no, have you stopped betraying us yet?”
“What about her work?”
Laura shrugged. “She has a team. They can step up if she has to be eased out. She’ll be closely managed during any transition. It’s not perfect, but at least she won’t be in enemy hands.”
“And if she has been turned? If she refuses to return to the fold and oversee the handover of her own work to people less able to pursue it?”
Laura fixed him with those green eyes. For a time he thought she wasn’t going to say anything. They both knew the answer, after all. Then she said, simply, “You know how it goes, Mitch.”
He held that look.
“You know her,” he said. “You’ve worked with her for, what, two years? Were you her link all that time? You must have become close. Could you do it? If the order came down the line, would you kill her?”
Without hesitation, Laura said, “Of course. I know where my loyalties lie. But what I need to work out, Mitch, is where are yours?”
§
That question grated. It’s not something you ask an active Company officer, not a subject that should ever come up. Mitchell’s loyalties were to his country, his unit, his team. They always had been. His commitment was to doing the right thing, by whatever means necessary.
Nobody should ever question that.
Would he do it, though, if the order came down? Particularly if the order came down through Laura...
There was always a range of scenarios mapped out. Possible ways things could go, possible explanations for what had occurred, possible courses of action to take in response to those scenarios. And if one of these scenarios told him Sunita was a traitor, and had been betraying her country for at least several months, and the only solution was to remove her from the equation, then would he actually pull the trigger?
He’d never questioned himself in this manner. Until now his loyalties had been clear.
He felt that knife twist again in his gut. He found himself unable to even entertain the possibility. A hypothetical outcome based on a scenario that could not be true. It was pointless even to think about it.
Sunita was a good person. One of the most fundamentally honest and right-acting people he had ever encountered. It was not going to happen.
He glanced across at Laura. She was driving, an easy choice for both of them. She liked to take charge, and they both knew she was a better driver; and Mitchell acknowledging these things and taking the passenger seat meant she could not take any calls or messages surreptitiously – no text messaging while she drove, and any calls would have to be hands-free, shared with Mitchell.
She would do it. Pull the trigger. He had no doubts of that. She was a good officer who would follow orders unquestioningly, but also she was easily angered, trigger happy, and jealous. To be honest, he had no idea how she had ever passed the psych evals. Unless she’d slept with the assessors, of course...
“You think we’ll get anywhere with Bowler’s lot?” They were heading to Little Rissingham, where Bowler had a research center. Bang on the door, ask the questions, and assess the response.
Laura tipped her head to one side, considering her answer. “On the face of it they have no reason to hide anything, and every reason to at least appear to cooperate. Bowler doesn’t need a run-in with the security services when his public message is so strong on law and order.”
“If they’ve abducted her they have every reason to lie.”
She glanced across at him.
He looked away. He’d been patronized enough today. He didn’t need her to point out that by far the most likely scenario was that Sunita was there by choice and nothing illegal had occurred. In that scenario, the Company’s role was to assess risks to national security, and decide on its own response – which would ideally remain at least quasi-legal. Sometimes being the good guys was so much harder than the other side of the coin.
The whole thing was such a mess in his head right now. So many conflicting possibilities, so much that didn’t fit with his own experience of Sunita.
The one thing that remained true, and to which he clung, was the knowledge that right now he felt the burning need to have someone he could turn to, unburden himself, talk things through, and the only person who had ever filled that role in his life was Sunita Chakravarti.
§
The countryside here was flat. Endless fields just starting to show the green fuzz of crops on the heavy clay soil.
Laura had paused at the turning, a straight, single-track road cutting across the fields. It was surprisingly low-key for the main entrance to a high-tech research center, but this was definitely the right place. Bowler never did things the conventional way, Mitchell supposed.
A glance, a nod, and she put the BMW in gear again, moved forward.
After half a mile they came to a high chain-link fence, with gates set into it, a metal cabin just beyond. A guy in blue uniform came forward, and spoke to them through a panel in the fence.
Mitchell took the lead. “Alex Mitchell and Laura Davenport, to see Bernard Bowler. He might be expecting us, I don’t know – but even if he’s not he’ll want to see us, believe me.” He hadn’t planned what to say, but wouldn’t be at all surprised if Bowler already knew they were on their way, either through leaked information or a spot of facial recognition software as their approach along that straight track had been monitored.
They couldn’t even be sure Bowler was still here, but he’d been in the silver C-Max and Halliday’s people had found no trace of it having left, or him showing up elsewhere, and a man like Bowler never had a low profile if he was out and about.
After a short wait the gates swung back and the guard told them to drive on to the main complex and park by the farmhouse.
Bowler himself came out to greet them. “Mr Mitchell, isn’t it? Day off from the University? And...?” Eyes fixed on Laura, brows raised in question.
“Laura Davenport,” she said, reaching forward to shake his hand. “I’m from the Ministry of Internal Security. We’re looking for a mutual acquaintance, a Dr Sunita Chakravarti. She went missing yesterday, and we’re keen to locate her again. A personal matter.”
Bowler was grinning, like a schoolboy caught up in some great adventure. “Oh yes,” he said. “Yes. Of course. A personal matter. I understand.”
If Bowler had been irritating with his smartass games when he’d visited the University the day before, he was taking it to a whole new level today.
“Have you seen Dr Chakravarti?” Mitchell asked, through gritted teeth. “I believe you know her. You spoke to her at the University yesterday.”
“Oh, Sunita, yes,” Bowler said. “She and I go way back. Old chums.”
Mitchell didn’t need to glance across at Laura. They were both trying to read this man. Mitchell’s take was that Bowler was just lying for the fun of it, aware that whatever he might say would muddy the waters.
“Do you know where she is?”
Bowler shrugged. He didn’t give any impression of giving even the slightest fraction of a shit.
“You missed her,” he said.
“She was here?” asked Laura.
Bowler nodded. “Of course. But then you know that, don’t you, otherwise why would you be here? You know she joined me after my talk at South Anglia Uni yesterday, and we came here. I understand how all this works.”
Mit
chell had only met Bowler twice, but already he felt he knew him. That smooth arrogance, and the need to assert his own superiority.
“Perhaps you could provide a little more information, Mr Bowler,” he said. “Ms Davenport is pursuing a missing persons inquiry.”
“And your interest in this is what, Mr Mitchell? I didn’t realize the University kept such close account of its staff’s whereabouts.”
“Mr Bowler.” Mitchell smiled. “We could carry on fencing like this, or I could simply call bullshit now and we could get to the point. We’re looking for Sunita, and we know she was here. Are you willing to help us?”
Bowler’s grin broadened, if that were possible. Mitchell just wanted to punch him, but he stuck to the diplomatic option for now.
“She was here, yes,” said Bowler, finally. “She asked to look around the facilities here and I was happy to oblige. Who wouldn’t? She’s very pleasant company, isn’t she?”
Either Bowler had researched Mitchell and Sunita and knew he was now taunting Alex, or he was a good reader of body language.
“She left this morning,” Bowler continued. “Some family thing she had to get to. She was dreading it. Had to wear a veil over her face, as her kind do, so you won’t pick her up with your facial recognition scans if you’ve been monitoring the vehicles leaving here this morning.”
“Are you able to explain why her phone signal died the moment she got into your car yesterday, and hasn’t been picked up since?” asked Laura.
Bowler was still enjoying himself too much. “You really were watching her closely, weren’t you?” he said. “Although that clearly didn’t stop her giving you the slip. The phone? She turned it off. Said she was enjoying the liberation of going off-grid. Presumably she hasn’t felt the need to turn it on again yet.”
All the time they’d been talking, Mitchell had been surveying the area. The old redbrick farmhouse, the big wooden barns to the rear. This was a deceptively large facility.
“Would you like to look around?” Bowler asked them now. “Or search the premises? I’m not sure of the protocol for these things. I’m a busy man, but I have people who could give you a tour. Refreshments, perhaps? I’d hate your trip to have been totally pointless.”
