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Authors: Rob Sinclair

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Chapter 31

‘What are we going to do, Winter?’ Mackie said.

He was sitting in his office, staring out of the window at the murky River Thames down below, his chair facing away from his desk at the other side of which Winter was sitting. He didn’t often ask Winter for an opinion on anything, usually content that he knew the best course of action, but this time he really was at a loss. Mackie had been confident that Logan was up to the job, that it was the right time, or maybe he had just hoped that was the case; but with the unexpected involvement of Youssef Selim, the playing field had changed considerably.

Mackie had no doubt that Logan would still crack the case. That he would find Modena. But at what price? He would probably kill Selim and anyone else who stood in his way in the process. Could Mackie afford to let him do that? And Logan was drawing so much attention to himself with his reckless actions that it was becoming a full-time job just to keep the French authorities at bay, not to mention the JIA committee.

‘Surely the best thing now is to pull Logan off,’ Winter said.

Mackie was well aware that Winter had never been a fan of Logan, and vice versa. Winter would make a fine commander one day, but stripping away the confidence and arrogance he was a very different person to Mackie. Winter needed structure and rules and order. Mackie relied on gut instincts, as did Logan. It was easy to see, therefore, why Winter and Logan didn’t gel.

Eighteen years ago Mackie’s gut had told him that Logan was an ideal candidate to be a field agent, and he’d been right. In fact,
Logan had been the best agent he’d ever had, and the best there was in the JIA. Until they’d gone after Selim, that was.

His gut instinct was that Logan could still be a successful field agent. But Mackie knew that his opinion was becoming harder and harder to defend.

‘Take him off to save face for JIA or to help solve this case?’ Mackie said.

‘Both,’ Winter answered, after thinking about the question for a moment. ‘We already have the leads. Let someone else finish this off, before too much damage is done. This case could be the end of Logan. The way it’s going, it could be the end of us.’

‘No, however this pans out, it’s on me and me alone.’ Mackie didn’t want Winter being drawn into a mess that was of his making.

‘I don’t think Lindegaard sees it that way,’ Winter said. ‘He’s going after Logan, no doubt about it.’

‘Certainly seems that way.’

‘They’ve got previous history, you know, Lindegaard and Logan.’

Mackie raised an eyebrow and swivelled around to face Winter. He knew all about Lindegaard’s history with Logan. But how did Winter know?

Winter must have picked up on the perplexed look on Mackie’s face. ‘You may not have known about it. I had to dig into Lindegaard’s past to find the link. Twelve years ago he was working on a big case to crack a smuggling ring in central America. The CIA’s case collapsed literally overnight. There was a lot of embarrassment for the Americans at the time because they’d invested heavily in it. The reason it crashed was because their lead informant disappeared. It was assumed his cover had been blown and he’d been taken out by the gang leaders. But actually Logan killed him as part of a JIA mission.’

‘I remember it,’ Mackie said. They’d only become party to the adjacent CIA case afterwards. Logan’s instructions had been clear: tear the ring apart quickly and quietly. And that was exactly what he’d done. ‘Lindegaard was running the CIA’s lead agent on that case. Apparently it took him years to recover his reputation – they’d been working on it for months and then, in a matter of weeks, Logan brought the whole gang down. The
CIA were expecting it to be a huge coup for them. As it was, the smuggling ring disintegrated once we became involved, taken to pieces one person at a time.’

‘You knew about this?’ Winter queried.

‘I’ve worked on every case that Logan has ever been on. Of course I know.’

And Mackie also knew it wasn’t the only time Lindegaard and Logan had crossed paths. But he wasn’t going to go into that with Winter.

‘I’m impressed with your digging,’ Mackie said, turning his chair back around to look out onto the river, as he often did when pondering, ‘and it clearly explains some of Lindegaard’s behaviour. But I’m still at a loss as to what to do here.’

‘Take Logan off the case. Limit the damage for all of us.’

It was the clear and obvious choice. But Mackie got the sense that even if he made that decision, Logan may still go after Selim. Would they not be better to stick with him so that the job was done properly?

‘There must be another way,’ Mackie mused.

‘We could leave him on,’ Winter suggested. ‘I’m sure we’d get Modena if we did, and probably more quickly than using anyone else. But I’m thinking about how to do this while maintaining our own reputations too. Lindegaard is gunning for Logan. At least if we agree to take Logan off now, then we can insist on using one of our agents as a replacement. Much better that way than have Lindegaard force it on us down the line and throw someone else in.’

Mackie thought about what Winter had said. It was a valid point. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting.

‘The least worst option,’ Mackie said, thinking out loud.

‘Exactly. And at least we get to keep control that way.’

‘Control of what?’ said an unexpected voice from the back of the room.

Mackie spun around in his chair to see Jay Lindegaard and John Sanderson standing in the doorway of his office. He hadn’t heard them open the door.

‘None of your goddamn business!’ Mackie shouted, getting to his feet. ‘This is my office and you bleeding well knock if you want to come in.’

‘Sorry, Charles,’ Sanderson said timidly as he shut the office door. ‘But we need to speak. Urgently.’

Lindegaard turned to glare at Sanderson. ‘There’s no need to apologise,’ he said, before turning his gaze back to Mackie. ‘You’re answerable to us and I asked you a very simple question. So what are you trying to keep control of, Charles?’

Mackie sat down on his chair. ‘I said it’s none of your business. Now what do you want?’

‘What do you think?’ Lindegaard said, no hint of pleasantness in his voice or demeanour. The two unwelcome visitors made their way towards the desk. ‘We want to talk about your cock-up of an agent. This must be a record, surely, for one of our agents to be wanted for four civilian murders after less than three days on a case?’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jay. You simply have no idea.’

‘Then tell me how it is, please do.’

‘Logan is out there doing a job that you or I never could. Have you any idea what it takes to put yourself, your life, on the line like that?’

‘Yes, I’m sure he’s very brave and we can all commend him for that. But he’s in danger of making a fool of this entire organisation.’

‘Oh, come off your high horse. I’m sure you’ve overseen much bigger messes than this,’ Mackie said, glancing over at Winter, who shot his gaze downwards, clearly not wanting to get involved.

‘What does that mean?’ Lindegaard said, offended.

‘And those
civilians
, as you put it,’ Mackie said, ‘are all people implicated in the kidnapping of Frank Modena.’

‘This isn’t some revenge mission where you kill your way to the end goal,’ Sanderson said.

His intervention surprised Mackie. He’d thought it was only Lindegaard he was up against, but maybe not.

‘Exactly,’ Lindegaard added. ‘I don’t care how close Logan is, he’s off this case. And that’s it.’

The room suddenly fell silent as Mackie, Lindegaard and Sanderson paused for breath. Winter looked up at his boss and all eyes in the room were on Mackie.

‘That’s it?’ Mackie said.

‘The decision has already been made, Charles,’ Sanderson said apologetically. ‘We’ve reassigned the case.’

‘Do you realise it’s Frank Modena’s life you’re playing with here?’ Winter piped up, to the surprise of everyone in the room. ‘Any delay in getting to him could cost him his life.’

Lindegaard turned his stony scowl to Winter. Sanderson was open-mouthed. Mackie was beaming inside that his aide had jumped in to back him up. Not only to back Mackie up, but Logan too.

‘And just who the hell asked for your opinion?’ Lindegaard thundered.

‘It’s not an opinion,’ Mackie said, banging his fist on the desk, redirecting Lindegaard’s anger away from Winter. ‘It’s a fact. You put someone new on the case and all you’re doing is delaying getting to Modena. And for what? So you can save us all a little bit of bad press?’

‘You two are incredible,’ Lindegaard said, shaking his head. ‘Can you really not see the mess that Logan is causing here?’

‘From where I’m sitting, he’s doing exactly what’s expected of him,’ Mackie said. His defences were up now. Screw the least worst option. He wasn’t going to back down to Lindegaard. He wasn’t going to abandon Logan like everyone else was prepared to.

‘I’m sorry, Charles,’ Sanderson chimed in, ‘it really is too late. The case has already been reassigned.’

Winter jumped in again. ‘Then at least let us choose the new lead. Someone we know so we can make this as smooth as possible. Time isn’t on our side here.’

‘You must have misunderstood me,’ Lindegaard said, a mocking smile creeping up his face. ‘I said the case has been reassigned. Logan is off the case. And so are you two.’

Mackie shot up out of his chair.

‘Get out of my office!’ he yelled, gesticulating toward the door.

‘Charles, come on –’

‘Now!’ Mackie boomed.

‘Okay, we’re done here,’ Lindegaard said. ‘I’ll leave it up to you to inform Logan and to bring him back in. My man is on his way to France as we speak.’

Mackie spun his chair around as the two committee members got to their feet. They turned and walked out of the office, shutting the door behind them.

Mackie stood staring into space, embarrassed as much as he was angry.

‘Sir, do you want me to call Logan?’ Winter queried.

Mackie didn’t respond. He walked around the desk, over to his office door, opened it, peered outside to make sure no-one was milling around and closed it again. He then went back to his seat at the desk.

‘Sir?’

‘No. Don’t call Logan.’

‘So you’re going to call him?’

Mackie didn’t answer straight away. His mind was whirring. He scratched at his goatee as he thought. This wasn’t over. He wasn’t giving up on Logan. Screw Lindegaard. There had to be another way.

‘Winter, are you with me on this?’

Winter hesitated for only a second before saying, ‘Of course.’

‘Good. Then we’re going to do everything we can to help Logan.’

‘But … I mean –’

‘You’re with me, right?’ Mackie said, halting Winter by holding up a hand.

‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s bring this thing home. Logan stays out there until it’s done.’

‘Understood,’ Winter confirmed, looking just a little wary. ‘But aren’t you worried about what that means for us?’

‘We’ll be just fine,’ Mackie said with the faintest hint of a grin. ‘I’ve got a good sense for these things.’

Winter had been right: Lindegaard was gunning for Logan. And the longer Mackie defied him, the more desperate he was going to get.

‘So what do you want me to do?’

‘I want you to keep close to Lindegaard, keep an eye on his every move. I want to know all there is to know about who he’s put on this case and what their brief is. And keep digging into Lindegaard’s past. See what you can find that might help us.’

Mackie knew that not only was Winter an excellent commander in the making, but he was also incredibly tech savvy. In his youth he’d been an amateur hacker – part of a ring of nerds who would hack large corporations and institutions just for the challenge and thrill of it. And both men understood what Mackie’s instructions entailed.

‘I’ll get on it right away.’

‘Good. We’re going to have to clutch at whatever straws you can find. Because have no doubts that this is going to blow up in our faces. And when it does, we’re going to need as much dirt on Lindegaard as we can get.’

Chapter 32

It was dark by the time they’d picked up the medical supplies. Although frustrated by the prospect, Logan had to concede that it would be better to get his wounds seen to before heading to Blakemore’s. Plus both he and Grainger needed the rest. They ran the risk of Blakemore and the others involved being spooked by Lorik’s disappearance, but the day’s events had taken its toll on both of them. Even though Logan’s wounds weren’t completely debilitating, he was certainly not in good enough shape to be off confronting anyone else right now.

As well as the pharmacy, they’d also managed to find a shop where Grainger had bought them both clean clothes: some tennis shoes, jeans and a non-descript blue pullover for her and a similar outfit for Logan, albeit with a grey V-neck jumper.

They needed somewhere to stay, but overnight options in the area were limited. The only suitable place they could find was a modern, three-storey roadside lodge. It was cheap and functional but big enough to allow them to remain relatively inconspicuous. In a much smaller place they would have stuck out like a sore thumb.

As with the pharmacy and clothes shop, it was Grainger who went into the reception to get the rooms, while Logan waited in the car. She had now changed out of her damaged clothes but her fat lip and swollen cheek meant that she looked anything but discreet. Logan though, with gaping wounds in his face and covered in blood, looked a damn sight worse and would have certainly aroused suspicions.

Grainger came back from the hotel reception and they made their way towards the second floor.

‘I got one room for us to share,’ she said.

She looked up at him. Gone was that smile that had lit her face up so much earlier in the day. She looked in pain. Frightened as well.

‘I don’t want to be alone tonight,’ she said. ‘Not after what’s happened. We don’t even know whether there’s still someone after us.’

His initial reaction to her words, before her clarification, had been that she wanted to be close to him for another reason. Was that what he wanted?

How could he even be thinking like that after what had just happened?

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘You don’t need to explain. I agree with you. We’re obviously the target of someone now. We need to stay close from here.’

‘Twin beds, though,’ she said. ‘I’m not that easy.’

She tried a smile, but it didn’t really work.

The room they had was basic. There were two single beds, a desk attached to the wall with a kettle on top, an old-fashioned portable TV and bathroom with shower, no bath.

‘God, what are we even doing here?’ she said. ‘What am
I
doing here?’

‘Well, I know it’s not exactly the Ritz …’ Logan said, trying to make light of the situation, but neither of them were really in the mood.

If she had even understood that he had been trying to be funny, she didn’t let on.

‘I meant here with you,’ she said. ‘I should be calling this in. Getting the police and the Feds down here.’

Even though in many ways she was right, that was the last thing he wanted, and he was certainly glad that she hadn’t.

‘Why haven’t you?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. For starters, they’d want to know what happened to me and I’d have to explain why there’s a dead man in that field. And why he’s got no face left.’

Whether or not it had been her intention, her words stung him – the thought that perhaps she now thought less of him after
the brutal way in which he’d killed Lorik. And he wasn’t quite sure why that was. Why did he even care what she thought? But thinking about it, he knew the answer. As much as he was trying to push the feeling to the back of his head, he was attracted to her. There was just something about her. And he wanted her to like him back.

‘But I know you wouldn’t want me to do that,’ she added.

‘Thanks. I think.’

‘And besides, if we really are going after the same thing then perhaps we should stick together.’

Then why did you leave me stranded earlier in the day
? Logan thought. But it wouldn’t have been right to question her about that now.

‘The man who attacked me …’

She stopped and sat down on the bed.

Logan wasn’t sure what she had wanted to say. He tried to fill in the blanks. ‘His name was Lorik,’ he said. ‘He’s one of the men who attacked me in the car park. The one who got away. I’m pretty sure he and Johnny worked for Blakemore.’

‘He must have followed us from the car park in Paris. How did we not even notice him? Then, when I left you there …’ She almost sounded ashamed of the fact. ‘I was heading towards Blakemore’s but I didn’t know exactly where to go. I was trying to call in to my team but couldn’t reach them. I was just driving along and he rammed me off the road. I didn’t even see him coming. Next thing I knew I was stuck in the middle of that field. I didn’t know what to do. I thought he was going to kill me.’

I’m pretty sure he would have done a lot more than that
, Logan thought.

Grainger broke down in tears again. Logan thought about going over to her, trying to comfort her. In the end he didn’t. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.

‘I’m sorry I left you,’ she said. ‘I was just … just confused. I know you’re one of the good guys. But I have my orders. I’m trying to do things by the book.’

‘I know. You don’t have to explain that to me. We’re both okay. That’s the main thing.’

‘Before you turned up, I was hiding,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know where he was. Then I fired my gun in panic when I thought I
heard him. Probably gave my position away. Next thing I knew he jumped me from behind.’

‘You don’t have to go through this with me,’ he said. But was that to protect him or her?

‘He spoke to me, before you arrived,’ she carried on, ignoring him. ‘He told me what he was going to do to me. I could tell he really wanted to as well.’

He knew that talking about it was helping her to cope with the trauma, but it was hard for him to listen. It was painful to hear her words, bringing back too many memories. Not just of what had happened today.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Listen to me, going on about myself like this. We need to get you seen to.’

‘I’m fine. If you want to talk, you should.’

‘No. I don’t think I do want to. Not right now. Let’s get you cleaned up.’

‘Yeah, I guess. I’ll take a shower first, get rid of the dried blood.’

He went to the bathroom and undressed out of his soiled clothes. He deliberately avoided looking at himself in the mirror. At first, the hot water in the shower made him wince as it washed over the wounds on his face. After a while, though, he became used to the sensation and started to feel it soothing him, calming him. His hands, which had stopped trembling, were still throbbing and aching. But the hot water was helping them too, creating a pleasant burning similar to having come into a warm house after being out in the cold for too long.

When he was finished he wrapped a towel around his waist. It only just fitted. He used a hand towel to mop at his face, which was still bleeding. Only then did he look into the mirror.

Not at his face, but at his scars.

He’d never seen them as a badge of honour. He hadn’t flaunted them as a sign of his strength or superiority, even though to many women they’d made him appear to be some sort of battle-hardened warrior. In the past, he’d never held any emotions towards them at all.

But that was all different now. To the new Logan, they told the story of a lost soul. Of a lifetime of pain and suffering that was easier to ignore than to confront.

Since his encounter with Selim, he’d not shown his scars to anyone other than the doctors and carers who had rehabilitated
him. He wasn’t sure whether that was through embarrassment or fear or what. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But he felt different today. Like he wanted to share the emotions with someone else. With Grainger. Share his suffering with her.

Wasn’t it about time he faced his fears?

What exactly was it that he feared anyway? Rejection? Ridicule?

He wasn’t going to hide anymore. He had seen her at her most vulnerable, now it was his turn.

With just the towel wrapped around his waist, he headed back into the bedroom, stood in the doorway, waited for her reaction.

Grainger was still sitting on one of the beds. She looked up at him and her eyes inspected him for a few moments, but she didn’t say a word.

He was almost disappointed.

‘Come on then, let’s do this,’ she said.

She indicated for him to come over and he went and sat next to her on the bed.

After a long look at his face, she said, ‘There’re two cuts that need doing. One at the top of your nose and one above your right eye. Are you sure your nose isn’t broken? It doesn’t look quite right.’

‘It’s just swollen. It’s been crooked for years. An old war wound.’

‘You were in the army?’ she said, sounding surprised.

‘No, never. Just a figure of speech.’

He turned his gaze and caught her staring at his chest, at his scars. She averted her eyes quickly.

‘Sorry,’ she said.

‘What for?’ he asked. When she didn’t answer, he said, ‘Aren’t you going to ask about them?’

‘No. If you want to tell me, you will.’

He’d never talked to anyone about them properly. Not really. The psychologist had pried but he’d only told enough to keep her off his back. Other people had seen them, but he hadn’t delved into the stories that lay behind them.

Dejected, he said, ‘Put some of the alcohol on first.’

‘I know. Are you ready?’

Before he could answer, she pressed the alcohol-soaked cotton
wool against his eyebrow. He jolted with shock more than pain. It made her laugh, and for just a fleeting second her smile was back.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t resist that. It’s like having a Band-Aid removed when you’re a kid. One, two,
rip
. Take away the anticipation, take away the pain.’

‘Are you sure you were never a nurse?’ he joked.

‘Very funny.’

She managed the threading without any issues; four stitches in his eyebrow, three in his nose. It hurt pretty badly, but he’d had a lot worse.

‘What about your hands?’ she said.

They were still throbbing and were about fifty per cent bigger than normal from the swelling.

‘They’ll be fine,’ he answered. ‘I just need some anti-inflammatories to ease the swelling.’

They’d bought both a gel and tablets. He would use both.

‘They must hurt like hell,’ she said.

Logan just shrugged.

‘You’re one tough guy, Carl.’

He wasn’t sure whether she was being sarcastic or not. She collected together the rubbish and walked over to the bin by the desk.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ she said.

‘Of course.’

‘What were you thinking? Back in the field. I mean, what was going through your head? I’ve never seen anyone like that before. It was like you weren’t even there.’

‘I don’t remember,’ he lied. ‘I just knew I had to save you. Me too, for that matter. He would have killed us both given half a chance.’

She didn’t seem to buy the explanation, which hadn’t really answered her question, but she didn’t press the issue.

‘I really am grateful, you know,’ she said.

‘I know. Thanks.’

‘Have you, you know … Is that the first time you’ve –’

‘Killed a man?’ Logan said.

‘Yes.’

‘No, it’s not.’

Grainger stared at him for a few seconds. Logan could see a whole world of emotions going through her mind.

‘I never have,’ she said, almost ashamedly.

‘It’s not something I brag about. It’s just my job.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just hard to imagine what it must be like. I never even fired my gun in the line of duty before today.’

‘They weren’t good people, the ones I killed,’ Logan asserted. ‘And it was them or me. You saw that much today.’

‘I guess,’ Grainger said, getting to her feet. ‘I should clean myself up.’

‘Yeah.’

She headed to the bathroom. Logan dressed in the new clothes, tossing his soiled ones into the empty shopping bag.

He thought about calling Mackie, but decided against it. He didn’t need to be babysat. As hard as Mackie might have fought it, Logan always strove to act independently, and in the past he had regularly gone without speaking to his boss for days at a time. Though the main reason for not calling this time was because he didn’t want to have to explain what had happened today.

Grainger came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed but with a towel wrapped around her hair. Even after everything, and as hard as he tried not to think about it, she looked great.

‘You hungry?’ he said.

‘Not really. You?’

‘No. But we should try to eat something anyway.’

They’d bought some snack food earlier: crisps, nuts, chocolates, fizzy drinks. All they had found food wise was a convenience store, so it was the best they could get. Not surprisingly, they weren’t really in the mood for eating out. There was nothing of real substance there, but it would keep them going. Logan began to tuck in. Eventually, Grainger relented and did the same.

They ate mostly in silence and it was nearly nine o’clock by the time they finished. Despite the sugary food, their energy levels were waning.

‘You going to call your boss?’ Logan asked.

‘I don’t have to, no. He can call me if there are any developments. And like I said, it would be quite hard to explain to them what’s happened today. Especially why I haven’t come in after nearly being killed. And the whole thing with the police. God, what a mess.’

She put her head in her hands.

‘You told him about the link to Blakemore, though, didn’t you?’

‘No,’ she said, looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow. That was a surprise. ‘No? The police still don’t know?’

‘I don’t know what the police know. I wanted to check it out myself first. Blakemore’s place, I mean. And I’m here for the FBI, so it would be my boss there that I called in the first instance, not the French police. But I don’t have to tell the Feds every time I tie my shoelace. I wanted to make sure this link was credible.’

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