Dead Men (48 page)

‘If that’s what it takes, then that’s what it takes,’ said Yokely. He leant forward and stared at Shepherd with his pale blue eyes. For the first time Shepherd realised the American was wearing contact lenses. ‘Anyone close to you ever die of cancer?’

Shepherd shook his head.

‘You’re a lucky man. With all the bullshit about terrorist attacks and Aids and airplane crashes, you know what people die of?’

‘Cancer,’said Shepherd. ‘Cancer,strokes and heart disease.’

‘Damn right,’ said Yokely. ‘And cancer’s the big one. My father died of colon cancer. He was a big man, big and strong, but before he died I could carry him to the bathroom like he was a kid.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Shepherd.

Yokely waved away Shepherd’s comment, as if it were an irritating insect. ‘My sister died of breast cancer a few years ago. Fought it right to the end. She let the doctors cut her, pour poison into her veins, zap her with radiation and she still died. Cancer’s a bitch. It puts everything else into perspective.’

Shepherd wasn’t sure where the conversation was going.

‘The thing about cancer is that it starts small, a single rogue cell. But once that cell has grown and spread and the tumours have taken hold, it’s too late to do anything about it. The trick is to take out the single rogue cell. Take it out before it becomes fatal.’

Realisation dawned. ‘I get the analogy.’

‘So you understand the logic?’

‘I understand that there’s a difference between a human being and cancerous cells. And I understand there are laws, and above laws there’s morality.’

‘Where’s the morality in flying airliners into office blocks, Dan? In chopping the heads off aid workers? Blowing up commuters?’

‘If we go down to their level, they’ve won,’ said Shepherd.

‘That’s what they want you to think,’ said Yokely. ‘That’s one of the great lies. The idea that because we meet fire with fire we’re somehow the poorer for it. That’s crap. All that matters is that our way of life continues, and we have the right, the God-given right, to do whatever’s necessary to preserve it.’ He shook his head. ‘Your talents are being wasted, Dan. What has the lovely Charlie got you doing now? Protecting IRA assassins? You do see how incongruous that is, don’t you? Back in the eighties, if they’d caught you in Northern Ireland they’d have pulled out your fingernails, broken your legs and put a bullet in the back of your head.’

‘Things change,’ agreed Shepherd.

‘Yeah, well, I don’t believe that one-man’s-terrorist-is-another-man’s-freedom-fighter bullshit. The IRA were terrorists. Now they’re terrorists who no longer kill people. But I don’t understand why the organisation you work for thinks it’s a justifiable use of your time to keep former terrorists alive.’

‘You and me both, as it happens. But ours not to reason why.’

‘The Charge of the Light Brigade mentality. The problem is that if you’re following orders issued by morons, it’s going to end in tears.’

‘What exactly do you want me to do? What are you offering me?’

‘As we’re sitting here drinking and chewing the fat, men and women all over the world are planning to kill and maim innocent civilians. Now, I don’t care what their motives are, I don’t care if they’re freedom-fighters or terrorists. All I care about is stopping them before they commit whatever carnage they’re planning.’

‘Pre-emptive strikes?’

‘Killing cancer cells before they form tumours,’ said Yokely. ‘Taking them out with surgical precision.’

‘You’re doing this already?’

Yokely nodded. ‘We started in Afghanistan and Iraq, but we’ve expanded our operations. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not some sort of vigilante group. Our operations are sanctioned at the highest level. But we’re not signed off by judges or district attorneys, there’s no paper trail, no recordings. Everything we do is deniable by those who sanction it.’

‘I thought assassination was specifically outlawed in the US? Didn’t Ronald Reagan sign Executive Order 12333 back in 1981?’

‘You and your trick memory,’ sighed Yokely.

‘It’s a gift,’ said Shepherd. ‘According to Executive Order 12333, “No person employed by or acting on behalf of the United States Government shall engage in, or conspire to engage in, assassination.” And then it goes on to say that “No agency of the Intelligence Community shall participate in or request any person to undertake activities forbidden by this Order.” Am I right?’

‘You are right,’ said Yokely. ‘But let’s not forget that Bill Clinton himself gave the CIA
carte blanche
to kill bin Laden.’

‘Which, really, he shouldn’t have done,’ said Shepherd.

‘It’s a grey area, Dan. An executive order isn’t a law, it’s more a statement of political policy.’

‘Actually, it’s not,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s black and white. Assassination is illegal. It’s murder.’

‘So is crashing a plane into an office block,’ said Yokely. ‘But it happens.’ He grinned. ‘I’m not here to argue politics or law with you. The world has changed since Nine Eleven. It’s like George W said back then – you’re either with us or you’re against us. If a country or an individual chooses to stand against us, they have to deal with the consequences.’

‘Let’s say I did work for you. Who would I . . .’ He hesitated. ‘What word do you use?’

‘“Kill” sounds good to me, Dan. Providing no one’s listening.’

‘So, who would I kill?’

‘You’d kill individuals who are working to kill others. Look, your own head of MI5 said a while back that there were some three hundred terror cells in the UK, all beavering away at getting guns, explosives or poisons, all preparing to kill for a place in Heaven. Your security services keep them under observation, but when it’s time to move in they have to hand over to the cops. And then what happens? The cops go charging in, local communities are up in arms about the heavy-handed response, and more often than not there isn’t even enough evidence to get a conviction. It’s a lose-lose situation. You might have averted one catastrophe, but the bad guys are still free to plot again. And, believe me, they will.’

‘And why me?

‘Because you’re good at what you do – you’re one of the most professional operatives I’ve ever met. You’re capable of looking down the barrel of a gun and pulling the trigger.’

‘You must have hundreds of men with those qualifications in the States,’ said Shepherd.

‘Agreed,’ said Yokely. ‘But there are times when it would be useful to have a Brit. And you’ve got undercover skills that most of the American special-forces guys don’t. They’ll allow you to get up close and personal in situations where a gung-ho former Navy Seal would be spotted a mile away.’

Shepherd snorted softly. ‘And how would I be expected to get up close and personal with Islamic fundamentalists?’

‘Not all our enemies are Arabs and Asians,’ said Yokely. ‘But that’s not the point. There’s a hundred different roles you could play that would get you in, roles that would be more believable because of your accent. Trust me, Dan, I want you on my team.’

‘You know I spoke to Charlie about this, the first time you raised it?’

Yokely’s eyes tightened a fraction. ‘I didn’t, but of course that’s your prerogative.’

‘She said you weren’t in a position to issue me with a get-out-of-jail-free card. That if I did work for you and something went wrong, I’d be left swinging in the wind.’

Yokely nodded thoughtfully. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let me see if I can find some way to reassure you that you’d be fully protected.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Trust me, Dan, I’ve got friends in high places.’

‘I bet you have,’ said Shepherd. ‘And some pretty low places, too.’

Yokely laughed and stamped his foot on the floor. ‘Ain’t that the truth,’ he said.

Shepherd sipped his whiskey. ‘I’ve got a question for you,’ he said quietly.

‘Sure.’

‘You knew that Salih had my home address, right?’

‘Merkulov had your home phone number so it would have been easy enough for him to get the address.’

‘But my question is, why did Salih think I was a target?’

‘I don’t follow you,’ said the American.

‘If all Salih had was my name, address and phone number, why did he attack me? Why did he send the guy with a gun?’

‘I still don’t follow you.’

‘He didn’t know I worked for Button. All he knew was that Charlie had been in contact with me. But she must have been in contact with dozens of people. Why did he single me out?’

‘He must have known you were with SOCA.’

Shepherd nodded. ‘And that worries me,’ he said. ‘I don’t see how Merkulov could have found out that I worked for SOCA. Unless someone told him.’

‘Someone?’

‘SOCA is pretty much leakproof,’ said Shepherd.

‘I guess the fact that you were in Belfast suggested you were working with her.’

‘That’s a hell of a leap.’ Shepherd shrugged. ‘I guess it’ll remain a mystery.’

‘I guess so.’ Yokely frowned. ‘Something on your mind, Dan?’

Shepherd shook his head. ‘No, nothing.’

Shepherd walked out of the lift. A sign that read ‘Intensive Care Unit’ pointed to the left. His shoes squeaked on the gleaming linoleum as he headed for the glass cubicles that housed the seriously ill patients. In the centre cubicle Button was lying on a bed, her eyes closed. A nurse appeared in front of Shepherd and raised her clipboard as if she was going to hit him with it. ‘Can I help you?’ she said, in a tone that suggested helping him was the last thing on her mind.

‘I’m here to see Charlotte Button,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s her there.’

‘It’s nearly midnight. Are you a relative?’

‘No, I work with her.’ Shepherd took out his ID card and held it out to her, but she glared at him over the top of it.

‘I don’t care who you work for. You can’t go in there.’ She pointed down the corridor. ‘Please talk to Reception. They can tell you when she’s allowed visitors.’

‘I don’t want to talk to Reception. I want to talk to her.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ she said.

Shepherd pointed a finger at her. ‘Look, sweetheart, I’ve already shot one arsehole today. I don’t want to have to do it again.’ He pushed past her and went into the ICU. He closed the glass door in the nurse’s face and held it shut.

Button smiled at him. She was ashen and there were dark patches under her eyes. Her right hand was bandaged, there was a drip into her left arm, and a heartbeat monitor beeped in the background. ‘I can see you’re winning friends and influencing people,’ she said. She gestured with her bandaged right hand at the glass window. On the other side the nurse was talking angrily to the doctor and pointing at Shepherd.

‘She didn’t want you disturbed,’ said Shepherd.

‘Didn’t you tell her that you were my knight in shining armour?’ She grimaced.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I said I didn’t want them to go over the top on the painkillers and they took me at my word. I’ll be interviewed soon so I need a clear head.’

‘IPCC?’The Independent Police Complaints Commission investigated all police-related shootings.

‘Home Office,’ she said. ‘Plod’s been squared away. They’re not even sending in a SOCO crew. So far as the police are concerned, it never happened. The nine-nine-nine call you made has been wiped and the paramedics have been briefed.’

A young doctor with receding hair and red-framed spectacles appeared at the glass door, the nurse at his shoulder. Shepherd held up his SOCA card. The doctor read it through the glass, then held up a hand, fingers splayed. ‘Five minutes,’ he mouthed.

Shepherd nodded, and the doctor ushered the nurse away. Shepherd went back to the bed and took Button’s left hand. ‘Charlie, I’m so sorry,’ he said.

‘For what?’

‘I should have taken you inside the house. I should have gone in with you.’

‘If you had he’d have killed you straight away. You saw what he did to Graham. He’d have killed you and then he’d have tortured me. We’d both have died, Spider. There’s no question about that.’

‘Maybe,’ said Shepherd.

‘Spider, you saved my life and that’s the end of it. I’m just grateful you turned up when you did.’

‘What about your daughter?’

‘She doesn’t know yet. I’ll wait until I can tell her myself. I don’t want her finding out over the phone.’

‘I can drive you when you’re ready.’

‘Thanks.’ She lay back and stared at the ceiling. ‘I need a cigarette.’

Shepherd chuckled. ‘I think it’s an arrestable offence, these days, smoking in a hospital.’

‘You’re probably right.’

Shepherd sat down on a chair next to the bed. ‘What will you tell the Home Office people?’ he said.

‘Not much,’ said Button. ‘My old firm’s on the case. I’m a SOCA employee but MI5 takes precedence. They’ll cite national security and take over the investigation. There’ll be a full D Notice on everything that happened at the house. As far as the world’s concerned, it never happened.’

‘Two men died, Charlie.’

‘No one’s going to care about what happened to the assassin or how he died. His body’ll be disposed of by some very clever people at MI5. The damage to my house is being repaired as we speak.’

‘And your husband?’

‘A stroke or a heart-attack. It’s better that way – better all round. I wouldn’t want Zoë knowing her father was stabbed to death. No one will ever know what happened. Except the two of us. And a few select people at MI5. The gun you used, where is it?’

‘Taken care of.’

‘It wasn’t your SIG-Sauer, was it?’

Shepherd shook his head. ‘It was something special.’

‘I sense the hand of Major Gannon in there somewhere.’

‘It’ll never be traced,’ said Shepherd. ‘Is that going to be a problem because I’m not prepared to go into details with any investigators.’

‘Playing hardball, Spider?’