The Administration Series (216 page)

"Sit down."

She did, and he took her hands in his, awkward in the cuffs. "Sara, it's less than a day. The — " He caught himself just in time. Someone would be listening, and Carnac mustn't know he knew about Chevril. "I bet the inspection's tomorrow — that's why he came in so heavy-handed. We stay here until then, safe and out of the way, and then he'll let us out. We won't be locked up for long."

"It's not — " She stopped, her breathing accelerating, then caught hold of herself and started again. "It's the handcuffs. Not being locked up. When they did it before. It was . . . "

At least she was talking now, which was an improvement. "The
cuffs
?" He laughed, startling her into looking at him. "Jesus, I don't know what you're complaining about. You should try it for four days, with your hands behind you."

"It's not . . . oh, God, I'm sorry I'm being such an idiot."

"It doesn't matter at all." He lay down, pressing his back against the wall, and held his arms out. "Come here. The bed's comfy enough, and I don't know about you, but I could use a lie in for once. I'm sick of getting up before the fucking sun."

Reluctantly, she joined him, and he lifted his elbow, allowing her to wriggle up and rest her head on his arm. Then he put his arms round her, holding her as best he could.

"You know," he said, keeping his voice conversational, "if Warrick knew about this, he'd be melting all over the place right now. He's got this thing about me in chains."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?" And she laughed, almost — he could feel it because she was pressed again him full length. Felt nice, in fact. "Didn't I tell you before?"

"I don't remember."

"Turns him on like mad although, to be fair, that's not difficult." He sighed, only partly for effect. "If I had a comm, I could call him and tell him. Give you something to listen to."

This time she did laugh. "If we had one, I'm sure we could think of something to do with it other than comm sex."

"Probably. But I like comm sex. Better than the real thing, in this case."

"Do you do it, really? Let him chain you up?"

"We tried it a couple of times. That's the weird thing about it — it's only the idea he likes. Except once, at the Shop. I'm sure I told you about that."

She nodded.

"The rest of the time, the real thing bores me to death and he doesn't get much off it either. But you only have to put something round
his
wrists and he's away. Just goes to show — "

"It's not the handcuffs, it's how you think about them," she finished.

Well, he hadn't planned anything that metaphorical, but it had worked out nicely. "Did that help?"

"Not really." But she sounded steadier.

"Sara, forget about the cuffs. They don't mean anything at all, except that Carnac is a grade A bastard who gets off on pathetic little power games." He lowered his voice to a whisper, out of the range of the cell microphone. "He should enjoy it while can, because he's going to get what's coming to him tomorrow."

She sniffed and swallowed. "Do you really think so?" she asked, also whispering.

"Bevan's keeping an eye on things. Chev'll come through, pillock though he is — he did a great job on the comm. Everyone's been told what to do, so even if Carnac has Service people asking questions, he'll hear the right answers."

"What if it's not enough? What if he still wins?"

Stupid bloody question, to which they both knew the answer. "It's not going to happen. Just concentrate on how fucking sick Carnac's going to look at the end of the inspection."

"What about — you know?"

"It'll be okay." Warrick will sort it. To his surprise, he didn't have to fake confidence in that.

Before she could say anything more, the lights went out and he felt her tense against him. He tightened his hold and kissed her hair, trying to soothe her. It wasn't something at which he'd had a lot of practise.

"Shh. Just . . . shh." Yes. That was how it went. He kissed her again, finding her thick, soft hair and familiar scent to be an unexpected comfort. "Everything's going to be fine."

Warrick was still in his office at past ten, working on the encryption. Since Toreth was at I&I there was little point in going anywhere else — he could sleep when Carnac's time limit expired.

He had an odd sense of deja vu, which persisted until he tracked down the source. Someone he loved in danger — two people now — and a forced reliance on someone else to save them. Gil Kemp then, and this time whoever at Int-Sec might follow up his message, if anyone did. The uncertainty and the danger were both that much greater this time. The message might never be received, or be ignored. Or it might bring all of them down.

While the system worked, he passed the time in reading Kate's letters. She wrote them as if Leo had gone away for a month or two — chatty, happy, passing all the news along. 'Dilly' and 'Keir' filled every page. It was strange, seeing his life set out so completely. Only Tarin was missing.

However, Warrick eventually found himself forgetting the absence, no longer noticing the missing face in the word pictures. Kate had erased her elder son so neatly and absolutely that it was hard to remember whether he had been there with them in any one of the scenes described. The letters held only Kate, Jen, Dilly and himself, making up, along with the absent Leo, Kate's perfect family. It was worse than he'd remembered it, more disturbing. Or perhaps it was his new sympathy for Tar that had altered his view.

At eleven o'clock, he was in the process of brewing more coffee when the comm chimed.

"Doctor Warrick? There is a man in reception who says he has an appointment. He won't give his name, but he says he got your message."

There was only one message that it could be. His first instinctive impulse was to run. Where, he had no idea.

"Escort him up," Warrick said, surprised by how calm he sounded.

While he waited he tidied the room, cleared chairs, hardly noticing what he was doing. One man, so it was unlikely he was going to be arrested. Killing him here, in his office, in a building with excellent security and surveillance, would be a ridiculous risk.

Logic could say what it would, but he couldn't pretend he was anything other than frightened. All the years of living with the secret, the knowledge of what Kate was, and finally it had come to this, the thing he had always dreaded. Int-Sec had found out, and the fact that he had virtually told them himself didn't make it any better.

Polite tap on the door, and he went over to open it.

Two security guards and a man he'd never seen before, in a Service officer's uniform. He thought of Tarin, of Kate's arrest, and wondered if he'd been involved. Tarin hadn't mentioned a senior officer, which this man clearly was. He was in his late fifties, at least, with short grey hair that Warrick guessed had once been blond, and he wore the uniform with authority and the confidence of someone accustomed to obedience.

He studied the uniform again, then stepped back from the door. "Come in, Colonel."

"Thank you."

Looking at the guards, Warrick hesitated for a moment before he asked them to wait outside, and then he closed the door behind his visitor.

"What can I do for you, Colonel . . .?"

The man smiled pleasantly. "Just Colonel will do fine."

"Would you like to sit down? Coffee?" Inane ritual, which helped him keep a grip on the fragile calm.

The colonel sat, seeming perfectly at ease. "No coffee, thanks. I try to avoid it late at night or I never sleep." He waited until Warrick had sat opposite him, then said, "You sent a message to me, regarding a mutual acquaintance."

"Yes." After a moment's consideration, he added, "One of your operatives."

"Ah. Thank you for being so honest — it makes things much easier."

"Did you find — " and he almost said the name, before he thought better of it. "Did you find her?"

"Indeed I did. She is in custody, although the circumstances appear to be slightly irregular."

"Can you —"

The colonel held up his hand. "Before we go any further, I have one question."

"Yes?"

"There is a note on her custody file, making a special reference to a para-investigator named Valantin Toreth. He is not to be allowed to see her or speak to her. Is she in danger from him?"

"God, no." Not now, anyway. "He's the one who let me know she was in trouble."

"Ah. And he is . . .?"

"A friend of mine." He scanned down the mental list of words that didn't fit, and picked one. "He's my lover, if that makes any difference."

"No difference at all."

It occurred to Warrick that the colonel must have known that already, given the reasonable assumption that he'd seen their security files. He'd been assessing the reliability of the information, or rather of the informant. "I also have a question, if I may?"

The colonel nodded.

"How did you know the message was from me?"

"Process of elimination." The colonel linked his fingers and stretched his hands out in front of him, knuckles cracking. "The number was secure and secret, and should have been available only to operatives. However, I knew it wasn't from one, because the message wasn't coded or authorised. That left a small field of people, and probability suggested you. It cost nothing to make sure in person, and a visit is far more secure than a comm link, particularly in these delicate times."

The cool, precise voice strongly reminded Warrick of someone he couldn't place. Had he met the man before? "So, what now?"

"More detail as to the nature of the danger would be useful."

"A socioanalyst called Carnac —" he paused, and the colonel nodded, clearly familiar with the name, " — arranged the arrest. He plans to have her exposed, tried and executed. And also to implicate Toreth as another Int-Sec agent. He has a psychoprogramming team ready to make it sound convincing."

The colonel's eyes narrowed. "His name wasn't linked to the arrest."

"I didn't think that it would be."

"And he knows for certain that she's an operative?"

"My information is that he had a copy of her security file." That was Carnac's problem now.

"That would be unfortunate." The colonel didn't specify for whom, but the studiously neutral tone chilled him.

Warrick waited for a while, then said, "Can you help her?"

"The operation has been fatally compromised. The operative is no longer a valuable resource and she possesses information that may pose a threat to Int-Sec."

This had always been the danger inherent in this course of action — that Int-Sec would choose the easy solution, the one that he was sure had occurred to Toreth.

The colonel looked almost apologetic. "If I may be honest with you, the current climate is a dangerous one for everyone at Int-Sec, and particularly for Special Operations. A number of things which occurred under the old regime would make us profoundly unpopular with the new, should they become known. We are endeavouring to maintain as low a profile as possible, and public trials cannot be permitted."

"You're going to kill her." Although if he meant that, why was he here at all?

"That would doubtless be the official course of action, should the matter attract wider attention, yes." Then he smiled, or at least half smiled. "However, when confusion reigns, some things may slip through the cracks unnoticed."

"And?"

"An acceptable conclusion, from my point of view, would be if the agent in question was taken from custody and left the jurisdiction of the Administration. Would you find it so?"

"Yes. That would be more than acceptable." He'd work out later how to explain it to Tarin and Dilly.

"How long do I have to arrange her release before the danger becomes acute?"

Warrick checked his watch, vaguely surprised to find it was barely a quarter past eleven. "Sometime tomorrow — that is, Tuesday. I'm not sure at precisely what time, but after nine am the risk increases. You may have a couple of days beyond that, at the outside."

The colonel lifted his head and stared thoughtfully at the far wall, pursing his lips. Eventually, he nodded. "That should be long enough. If all goes well, she'll be free by lunchtime at the latest."

It felt too good to be true, but there was nothing he could do, except be grateful and hope. He wondered briefly if there was any point asking where Kate was being held, but there was no chance that would be disclosed.

"If that's all the information you have," the colonel said, "I think that we're done here. I have work to do. I'm afraid I won't be able to let you know how things go, but the results should speak for themselves."

"I understand."

The colonel stood and looked towards the desk. "Did you remove any materials from her residence?"

Warrick hesitated, thinking of the letters. If Int-Sec didn't know about them, they could be dangerous for Kate. On the other hand, if anyone went to the house it would be obvious that he'd tampered with the computer. "Yes. Data stores. Nothing else."

After pocketing the stores, the colonel offered his hand. "I suggest that if any materials were copied, then the copies are deleted, soon. It's been a pleasure meeting you," he added, with every evidence of sincerity. "Int-Sec would thank you for doing your duty as a loyal citizen, if it knew anything about this. Goodbye, and thank you."

Warrick opened the door for him and watched the security guards escort him to the lift. Two 'thank you's. One from Int-Sec, and one personal? He wondered if the colonel had known Kate, or — strange thought — perhaps even run her. Read her reports on Tarin and his friends.

Without noticing, he rubbed his palms together, then wiped them on his trousers. He considered calling Toreth, but decided that a call in the morning would look more natural. If Carnac became suspicious now, when things were so precariously balanced, it would be disastrous.