The Administration Series (150 page)

"Fine."

"How was the flight back?"

He picked up a biscuit and dipped the end into his coffee. "Fine."

"How's Warrick?"

"F — " Distracted at the vital moment, Toreth left his biscuit submerged a fraction too long. A chunk of it broke off and sank out of sight. He picked up a teaspoon and fished vainly for it. "Fucking
hell
. I hate that."

She watched him for a while, not commenting, until he gave up hope of retrieving the biscuit. He threw the teaspoon back onto the tray.

"Don't you have any work to do?" he asked.

"Plenty." She stood up and reached for the tray.

"No. Look. Sit down." He took a deep breath. He mustn't piss Sara off, not when he had to go back to Athens and leave her to look after things here. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, accepting the apology, and sat down again. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know. I haven't fucking spoken to him, because — " He swallowed a mouthful of coffee, steadying his voice. "Because when I went to see him he was with Carnac."

"
Carnac
? The spook?"

"Yes."

"Hang on a minute. Is that 'with' as in 'in the same room as' or 'with' as in . . . ?"

He sighed and launched into the sorry saga. When he'd walked out of the restaurant, he looked up to find Sara staring at him in obvious bewilderment. "So they went to dinner?"

"Yeah. Very fucking cosy."

"But that's it? Dinner? Did you call his flat later or something?"

"No, I — " I made a huge fucking assumption on no bloody evidence whatsoever.

"Maybe they were just — "

"Jesus Christ, Sara, I worked that out for myself.
Bollocks
."

She smiled very slightly, and so briefly that he didn't have time to snap at her to stop it. "What did you do?"

"What do you think?" He rubbed his face. "I went off, felt sorry for myself, and got completely fucking wasted. Woke up in some bloke's bed with no idea of how I got there.
Fuck
."

"Oh dear. Well — " She stood up. "No harm done, eh? Shall I call Warrick, tell him you're back for the weekend?"

"No. No, I'll do it."

Halfway across the room, she stopped and turned round. "Did you . . . "

"What?"

"Did you really not screw anyone in Athens? For the whole week?"

Why the hell had he told her that? "If you say a word to anyone, I'll kill you."

Balancing the tray in one hand, she zipped her lips firmly. Then she grinned. "It's useless as gossip, anyway. No one would believe me."

When she had gone, Toreth sat and contemplated the extent of his stupidity. Christ, he'd sack any of his team who came up to him and tried to pass off something that weak as a plausible theory. It had probably been nothing more than a social meal, or even a business meeting. He should have thought of that in the first place — why the hell would Warrick's admins know about illicit liaisons?

Well, if he had to make an idiot of himself, at least it had only been in front of Sara.

He called Warrick — sound only. It would make it that much easier to lie to him. Between the effects of irritation, the hangover and lingering embarrassment he'd need all the help he could get.

"Hello, Warrick. It's me."

"And very nice it is to hear you." Sounded like genuine pleasure. "How's the weather in Athens?"

"No idea. I'm back in New London. I got back last night. I . . . I called the flat, but you weren't in." Setting a trap.

"I'm afraid not." No obvious guilt. "Actually, I was having dinner with someone."

"Anyone I know?"

"Yes, indeed, although I doubt you'll guess who."

He played through the charade, guessing randomly, until Warrick finally said, "Carnac."

Deep breath. "Carnac? Fuck, really? What's he doing back here?"

Now there was a hesitation. "Working somewhere in the city, I think. Listen, I've got a meeting now. Are you free this evening?"

"Your flat?"

"Certainly."

"Fine. See you."

Toreth rested his chin on his hand and stared at the screen without seeing any of the work layered there for his urgent attention. 'I've got a meeting now'. Warrick was working at the weekend too? Not terribly unusual, and he had been expecting Toreth to be in Athens. But why the sudden change in the conversation? What hadn't Warrick wanted to tell him?

He wished he could think of a reason beyond the obvious one.

"I can get a section head clearance, of course," Toreth said, "but it'll take me a couple of hours. Maybe more."

The man on the screen looked at his watch. "I'm supposed to be taking my daughter fishing, Para."

"I'm sorry," Toreth said with as much sincerity as he could fake. "The files I have give Theodora Grant as an alias for a Citizen Surveillance agent. I need the details of the operation in Athens she was working on when she died."

"Wait."

The screen blanked. Toreth leaned back in his chair. Working at the weekend had advantages and disadvantages. It had taken him two hours to track down someone over at Cit Surveillance who could give him the information he needed. However, it also meant that everyone he spoke to was in a hurry to deal with his question and get on with whatever they were doing.

He sat up as the screen flickered into life.

"I'm sending the file now. Get a section head clearance to me by Monday."

"No problem." Sara could fight it out with Tillotson after Toreth was back in sunny Athens.

The file was short and perversely unhelpful. Two months previously, Cit Surveillance had assigned Agent #020571 to act as an agent provocateur within the university in Athens. She had arrived, begun the process of sounding out potential resisters, and been discovered dead by Political Crimes investigators a month later. The operation had followed all proper procedures — thorough preparation of her cover, selective targeting of contacts, notification to other Int-Sec agencies, and a low risk projection.

However, Karteris had mentioned her name, so there had to be something there. Still possible that he'd meant another Grant, but as the name wasn't Greek the odds seemed low. If Toreth hoped to get any further with the lead, he'd need help with some non-electronic investigation when he returned to Athens.

He had powers to take investigators from the pool there, but that involved, to put it mildly, conflicted loyalties. He needed people he could rely on, and who, more importantly, needed
his
good opinion for their future careers, not Karteris's or Vassilakis's.

Whom to choose? Barret-Connor, because the investigator did his job well and discreetly. Another investigator, or his junior para? He was tempted to take Joielin Nagra, if she could be spared.

Nagra had been in Toreth's team for a year and a half, and she was the best junior he'd ever had. Her only flaw was that she was bound to get an early promotion to senior, and she was good enough that he couldn't stop it. Not that it would happen for a number of years yet — talent had to be backed up by experience.

He called through to Sara. "How's Nagra's case load?"

She didn't need to check, and once more Toreth wished he could take her with him. "It could be left with Wrenn and Morehen, if that's what you mean. The big one was the corporate extortion, and that's gone quiet — Systems are tracking leads but they don't expect results unless the corporation is contacted again."

"Great. Call her and tell her I've got good news. B-C, too. Sort me out flights for them both to Athens. The budget should stretch to it."

That settled, he returned to the files.

"I'm in the living room," Warrick called as Toreth closed the door to the flat.

Toreth took his time taking off his coat. Carnac and Warrick had been having dinner, nothing more than that. Sara was obviously right. If he let himself worry about it he'd end up looking like an idiot in front of Warrick. As he set off down the hall, he took a deep breath — the flat smelt deliciously of curry. Special effort, obviously, for his return.

Was that a sign of Warrick's guilty conscience?

As he entered the living room, Warrick craned his neck to look over the back of the sofa and gave him a smile that under any other circumstances would have put a serious delay in dinner.

The picture flashed into his mind of Warrick's mouth on Carnac's. Don't, he told himself. Just don't even
start
that.

"Would you like a drink?" Warrick asked, not standing up.

"No." He knew what he ought to say, what Warrick expected to hear. "I'd much prefer you."

The smile widened. "Oh,
good
. Would you like to adjourn to the bedroom?"

Toreth came round the end of the sofa, almost stepping on the hand screen on the floor. "Not especially."

Still smiling, Warrick lay down on the sofa and offered his hand.

"This is a very pleasant surprise," Warrick said when they were comfortable.

"I had to come back to I&I. I'm heading back to Athens on Monday."

"We'll have to make the most of it, then. Thank you for the card, by the way. It arrived yesterday afternoon."

"Did you like it?"

His eyebrow arched wryly. "The admins certainly enjoyed it. They laughed so much that Asher came across to see what the fuss was about. If you hoped to embarrass me, you succeeded admirably." Warrick ran his fingers through Toreth's hair. "You were telling the truth about the sun, anyway."

"Yeah? I've not been out much."

"Still, it's distinctly lighter. Did you get to a beach?"

"Too fucking busy."

"Mm. Pity." Warrick's voice was muffled against his throat. "I have a sex-on-a-beach fantasy I'm very fond of."

Warrick was getting hard, squirming gently against him. It felt wonderful, but Toreth couldn't stop the thought forming: is it me or is it fucking Carnac on the beach with you?

"I've been entertaining myself with it while you've been away," Warrick continued. "You know how it is — one becomes captivated by an idea for a while, a particular scenario. Or at least I do. Elaborating. Expanding. Adding new details." He ran his hand down Toreth's chest, then up again to start unfastening his shirt from the top.

Forget Carnac. "I swam in the pool every day — that's outdoors."

"Ah." Warm fingers traced down his skin as Warrick undid the buttons with his thumb. "Did you get sunburned?"

"No, I didn't. It's incredibly bad for your skin. Why do you want to . . . no, wait, don't tell me — sunburn turns you on."

"Yes, a little. Just the idea of a touch along your shoulders."

The wistful edge made Toreth laugh. "Sunburn." He shifted round, moving above Warrick, pressing him down into the sofa. "Sometimes you are so fucking weird."

It was a good thing that they'd done this so often, because it meant Toreth could devote most of his attention to looking for something different. Different responses, different movements, a different scent — something that would tell him beyond doubt that Warrick had been with someone else.

The downside of having done this so often was that after five minutes Warrick lifted Toreth's head up gently, one hand cupping his face, and said, "What's wrong?"

"Why the hell would anything be wrong?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."

"It's nothing."

Warrick wriggled out from beneath him and sat up. "If you're not in the mood, or you're tired, all you have to do is say so. Your company for the evening will be very nice whatever we do." He stroked Toreth's shoulder, straightening his shirt. "I don't expect performance on demand, you know."

Not if you've got someone else to do it for you. Toreth rolled onto his back and stared up at the familiar ceiling. "Carnac swung me the trip to Athens."

Warrick frowned down at him. "It's in English, and all the words make sense, but what the hell are you talking about?"

"Carnac pulled strings and got me assigned to the investigation in Athens."

"How on Earth do you know that?"

"Sara asked around."

"For goodness sake. Office gossip — "

"Is about the most reliable source of information. If the admin network says someone from outside arranged the trip, then someone did. Who the fuck else could it be?"

"How should I know?" Warrick asked. "Internal politics at Int-Sec is hardly my speciality."

"Well, it's mine."

"Why would he do something like that?"

So he could fuck you. "I don't know. Carnac isn't
my
speciality. Why don't you ask him next time you see him?"

There was a brief pause before Warrick said, "I think you're perhaps being just a little paranoid."

"No I'm not. Don't you think it's a bit of a fucking coincidence?"

"Yes. It's a
coincidence
, in the accurate sense of two unrelated events coinciding."

"Unrelated? He set it up so that he could take you to dinner and get you — "

He stopped, far too late, as Warrick's expression changed — slight smile, mostly around his eyes. "Toreth, I assure you it was nothing of the kind. We had dinner and that was
all
."

A little exasperated and so fucking patient. If there was one thing Toreth hated more than that tone of voice it was the thought he was sure lay behind it. 'You're utterly pathetic, but I can put up with it because I like your cock'.