Blind pursuit, p.17
Blind Pursuit, page 17
Aaron’s phone was ringing. His wife, Callum knew by the way he answered.
‘Hey… The police?’ he said. ‘But they didn’t come in… OK… Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon… No. I’ll be back tonight… Then go to your parents. I’ll meet you there… I promise. Everything’s fine here… Just go. I’ll see you there.’
The call soon ended and Aaron sighed, his worry clear to see.
‘You probably got most of that,’ he said.
‘The police went to your house?’
A nod.
‘Did she get the names of the officers?’
‘No. They were just two uniforms. Asking for me. And you. They didn’t go inside but they’re still there, waiting in a car.’
‘She didn’t tell them anything?’
Aaron shot him a glare. ‘She doesn’t know anything. Nothing that’s going to harm you, anyway. But she’s scared, Cal, and you can understand why. My kids are there.’
‘I know. You’ve done more than enough for me,’ Callum said. ‘It’s time for you to go back to them.’
The brothers sat in awkward silence a moment, as though neither knew what else to say or do. Were they supposed to shake hands? Hug?
In the end they did nothing before Callum grabbed his things and got out.
‘I’ll wait until you’re boarded,’ Aaron said before Callum closed the door and headed for the ship.
He only had a backpack and a small suitcase with him. The suitcase was pretty much a prop. He needed to at least look the part, and it was only partially filled with some cast-offs of Aaron’s that Deena had earlier brought out to them which Callum may or may not use at some point. He also had £2,000 in cash. Again, Aaron’s. Not because he didn’t have his own money but because he was trying his hardest to not leave too much of a trail. At least not in his name.
He joined the queue of other travellers, mostly older couples, all smiles and eagerness.
Soon it was his turn to show his documents. His brother’s passport, and a single ticket for a two-berth cabin, no frills. He held his breath. Risked a look here and there, scoping out for any sudden onrush of security or border guards or police or whatever else…
‘Enjoy the trip,’ the border guard said with a forced smile as he handed the documents back over.
Callum nodded and carried on, his legs initially stiff and his stride unnatural as he tried to find his usual rhythm. He reached the gangway and pulled out the phone and sent a simple text message to Aaron.
All good. Take care.
Then he turned the phone off and made his way on board.
17
Callum made his way through the warren of corridors and directly to his cabin on the fourth floor, wary of every person who came his way. The ship could accommodate a couple of thousand passengers, but it seemed like there was an almost equal amount of staff too, people just everywhere. It made him feel equally nervous and safer at the same time.
He kept his head down, kind of, but also made sure he was aware of his surroundings at every moment.
Is this how Lea had to live all the time? he wondered.
He reached his door and looked left and then right along the busy corridor. No one paid him any attention. He unlocked and opened the door and stepped in.
He sighed. He’d never been fond of cramped spaces. And this space felt even less inviting given the turmoil in his mind. He had two options: hide inside here until morning, or spend as much time out in the open, among other people as he could.
He sat down on the bed. After a few moments he took his shoes off and lay back.
Closed his eyes.
Tried to relax.
Didn’t work at all. Even if the ship wasn’t moving yet, with his eyes closed everything swirled.
No, he really didn’t like cramped spaces, and sitting or lying in there… What was the saying? A sitting duck? Exactly what he’d be if someone turned up at his door to attack him.
He put his shoes back on and headed out.
The boat didn’t leave the dock for another hour after Callum had boarded. Tension gripped him the whole time, so it was natural that his whole body relaxed as he watched the land disappear in the distance through the windows of the bar, serotonin released and rushing through his head making him feel almost lightheaded. For a short while. Until reality dawned. He was nowhere near in the clear out in the ocean, all alone. This was merely the first part of a very long step. And when he reached Portugal? It wasn’t as though all his troubles would suddenly be over. He’d just be on to another phase of this taut and discomforting mission.
He ordered a beer from his stool at the bar. Took his time with it, because he knew it was a long night ahead and the last thing he needed was to be drunk. Except it was damn good, so before long he had a second, relaxing even more into the journey, particularly as the crowds around him livened up with people ready to enjoy the first night of their big escape.
By 10 p.m. the bar was jam-packed, a little loud in places where big groups were drinking together, but all in all, given the clientele on the upscale craft, it remained respectable.
A couple of times other people ordering at the bar had engaged him – a quick nod of the head or a smile, and one man had even tried to strike up a conversation about dolphin-watching while he waited for his and his wife’s cocktails. Callum glanced over at them, a few tables away from his position. They were both probably in their fifties, all dressed up for the occasion: her with a summery dress, a diamond-encrusted necklace, hoop earrings, tasteful make-up; him in an expensive-looking shirt and trousers combo, a big gold signet ring on one finger. The cruise wasn’t cheap, and it showed in the guests and their attire. The couple laughed and giggled with each other, stared into each other’s eyes. A hand on the knee here, a squeeze of the side there. At one point the woman leaned over and pecked her husband on the neck, leaving a little red smudge there and Callum practically felt the goosebumps on his skin, imagining being in that moment. With Lea, obviously.
Watching them, so happy, so content in each other’s company… It’s what his and Lea’s future should have been. It’s what his and her present should have been.
Now there was no future. He’d never get back what had been taken from him.
But he’d damn well find out why it’d been taken from him.
‘I’ll have whatever he’s having,’ came a voice from beside him. A female voice. ‘And get him another too.’
Callum froze, every bone and muscle in his body unmoving. Except the ones needed for him to switch his gaze from the couple to the mirror behind the bar.
Jenn Hinch was standing beside him.
He went to turn around on the stool to face her but then paused when she spoke again.
‘Just keep it calm, big man, yeah? No need for a scene. It won’t do either of us any good.’
He relaxed just a little, more so to ensure she realised he wasn’t about to make a sudden move. Not just yet, anyway. He turned on the stool to properly face the bar and stared at her in the mirror.
The bartender put two beers down in front of them. Callum downed the remaining third of his old one.
‘Funny time to be taking a cruise,’ Hinch said, snide smile on her face.
Callum said nothing in return.
She chuckled. ‘You know, I still can’t figure out if it’s genius or completely dumb as hell.’
Callum still said nothing but took his new beer and a long sip.
‘You’re alone?’ he asked after putting his drink back down.
Her smile faded. ‘Yeah. I am. You know why? Because right now Warren is in hospital with a dislocated knee and a shattered pelvis. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to walk properly again.’
‘Should always look both ways before crossing the road.’
He resisted smiling at his own quip but still took just a little pleasure in seeing the annoyance on her face.
‘You think it’s funny? He’s a good friend, and we’ve been through some big-time shit together. Now he’s probably out of action for good.’
‘My heart bleeds. You realise I lost my wife? I think my pain trumps yours. His too.’
‘And like I told you before, she was also a friend of mine.’
‘Hard to believe given both times I’ve met you you’ve pulled a gun on me.’
He looked at her hands, glanced at her side. She wore jeans and an open jacket and even if he saw no sign of a weapon, she could be carrying something still.
‘I have no gun,’ she said, as if to answer his thought. ‘Didn’t have time to figure a way to get it through security.’
‘Lucky me. What do you want?’
‘Believe it or not? To help you. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you every time I’ve seen you.’
‘How’d you even follow me here?’
She sighed. ‘I told you before, Callum – I’m good at this shit. And you’re… really not. The biggest surprise is that I’ve seen no indication that anyone else is on your tail.’
‘The police, you mean?’
‘Among others. Listen, Callum… I get you trust me as much as you like me—’
‘You think?’
‘But I am trying to help you.’
There has to be one side who’s telling you the truth. Who you can trust.
Aaron’s words echoed in his mind. Except his brother had suggested it likely wasn’t Brandt and Hinch he should trust.
‘We’ve got a few hours to kill before we hit the next port,’ Callum said. ‘So why don’t you start convincing me.’
‘The next port? Leixoes. So that’s where you’re getting off?’
Damn it. How’d he given that away so easily? But he didn’t confirm the obvious.
‘What’s there, Callum? I know you’re not just running. You know something.’
He sipped his beer again.
‘Callum! I can help you, but I need to know what the hell you’re up to.’
‘And I said you need to convince me about who you are. Because right now I trust you probably less than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. Is Jenn Hinch even your real name.’
A pause before she answered. ‘Depends what you mean by real.’
‘Not a good start.’
‘It’s my name as far as almost anyone anywhere is concerned. Kind of like how Lea Torrence wasn’t really Lea Torrence.’
‘So you’re MI6 too? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘No. I’m not saying that.’
‘Who do you work for then?’
‘Callum… it’s hard to explain to someone like…’
‘Like me? What? I’m too dumb to understand?’
‘No, this… just isn’t your world.’
She was right about that.
‘If you want the truth? The best way to explain what I do? I’m an asset. An intelligence asset. Not an agent.’
‘A mercenary, you mean?’
‘No. Not that. I hate that word. I’m not a gun for hire. Just someone who… gets around. Unofficially.’
She took a swig from her beer. Callum kept his eye on her, ever wary.
‘I’ve known Lea for nearly six years,’ Hinch said. ‘Our paths first crossed… over something that you really don’t need to know about. But we worked together regularly. I know you’re only just figuring out now about Lea’s… other life, but she really was a bloody good spy. For the very fact that she was so good at maintaining assets, whether it was for intel or something as simple as needing a translator to… more physical missions. Whatever she needed, she had people she could turn to.’
‘And where do you fit on that spectrum? Between translator and assassin.’
‘It’s a pretty broad spectrum. And I like to think I sit across quite a lot of it.’
Was that supposed to make him feel better? He gulped as ominous thoughts flashed.
He tensed as she reached inside her jacket, but it was only for her phone. She unlocked the screen and tapped away and then turned it towards him.
A picture. He couldn’t tell where, but it was sunny, hot, sand-coloured buildings behind the two figures in the foreground. Lea and Hinch. Both of them smiling.
‘Not long after we first met,’ Hinch said. She tapped away once more, before again showing Callum the screen. ‘Some more.’ She flicked through several others. A European city this time, he thought, though he couldn’t immediately tell which one. ‘And this… is the most recent.’
Callum stared at that one a little longer. No smile from Lea – she looked pensive, a little fed up. He thought he kind of recognised the square behind her.
He scoffed. ‘You’re an asset of a spy, and you walk around with photos of the two of you together, smiling, having fun?’
‘Why wouldn’t I? Even if we actually didn’t like each other that much this’d be good cover to show two women who’re simply friends.’
Kind of made sense. But it also seemed way too convenient.
‘You don’t believe these are real?’ Hinch asked.
Is that what he was saying? He supposed it wouldn’t be that hard to fake pictures like that with Photoshop or AI or whatever.
‘I’ve already told you countless times, we were friends,’ Hinch said. ‘Even spies are allowed those.’
He dwelled on that as he drank. Even spies are allowed friends. In the same way that Lea was allowed a husband too. Except apparently the friends were in on her big secret, whereas he wasn’t.
It made him feel all the more insignificant in Lea’s life.
‘Do you know about… whatever it is that got her killed?’ he asked.
‘Not much. I wasn’t involved in that operation. But I know it’d been rumbling on for a long time.’
‘Not much? So something?’
‘Like I said, I know she’d been working on this thing for a long time. She’d got deeper into it, and it was causing problems.’
‘Problems with who?’
‘With the people she worked for.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.
‘Callum, come on, I—’
‘No, you listen to me. When you came to my house, one of the first things you and Brandt said to me was that Lea was killed because of information she had. Information that is now missing. You came to me because you thought I might know about it, have access to it. Now you’re telling me you know next to nothing about what got her killed? It can’t be both. One of those positions is a lie. Maybe it’s both.’
Hinch didn’t respond. She looked upset more than anything at Callum’s blunt statement. Perhaps this woman was just so used to lying, or at least being scarce with the truth, that she couldn’t even remember what story she’d told and when any more.
‘I wasn’t involved in the op,’ Hinch said eventually. ‘That’s the truth. But I know something about what she was working on. And I am in this for her. I want to find the truth, and I want those responsible for her death punished.’
‘You know something. Tell me!’
‘I can’t!’ A couple of people looked over at the heightened conversation and Hinch gave him an imploring look. ‘I’m sorry, but right now, I just can’t. There’s more at stake here than you realise. Please, can you just understand that?’
‘No. I really can’t. Not at all.’
‘And what about you, anyway?’ she said. ‘Are you going to tell me why you’re here? Where you’re going when we get to Leixoes and why?’
He wiped at the condensation on his glass with his finger, leaving a neat trail.
‘Thought so,’ she said. ‘Trust works both ways.’
He finished off his beer. He wouldn’t have another tonight.
‘But we can still help each other,’ Hinch said. ‘I know you don’t want to do this alone. It’s why you brought your brother into the mix, and I’m sure you’d have him here with you now if you could.’
‘You’re saying you want to tag along with me to wherever I’m going?’ Callum asked.
‘It’s not such a bad idea if you think about it. I have way more experience than you do of evading the authorities and… just everything you’re now involved in.’
‘But if I turn around and tell you to piss off at any point? What then? You pull a weapon on me? Threaten me? Am I just your hostage until it suits you otherwise?’
‘You’re not a hostage. If I wanted you harmed or dead, you would be by now.’
Was that supposed to make him feel better?
‘Callum, I’m only a threat to you when you try to put me in danger. That’s the truth. You know what I’m saying makes sense.’
It didn’t really. But sitting there in the middle of the ocean he didn’t really have many options. Cry foul and the police would be on him, and there was no way he could escape from her without making a scene.
Not on here, anyway.
Once they were ashore?
That was a different prospect. One he’d have to mull over. And he had a few hours to do so.
‘OK, you win,’ he said. ‘We’ll stick together. For now.’
And he thought he did a pretty good job of sounding sincere.
18
LONDON
One and a half years ago
MI6 headquarters at Vauxhall Cross dominated the foreground as she approached, the looming structure an impressive and renowned architectural feat, even if the sheer sight of it sent shivers down her spine, given her own history – not of the building specifically, but because of what she knew it represented.
Coming here today represented a stumbling block. A stumbling block that if she could clear, would take a huge weight off her.
But it was a stumbling block that was several feet tall, and to get over it she’d be blindfolded and have her hands tied behind her back and her ankles roped together.
Or something like that.
Her thoughts whirled as she approached the doors. It’d been months since the break in at the home of MP Omar Yousefi, and the event had never made headlines. No images of Lea or Denis had been paraded on TV or the internet.
