The Hostage (44 page)

‘Stratton,’ she said, and then suddenly realised he was not the only one who needed some encouragement. Perhaps this was a mistake.

‘What?’

‘Um . . . Nothing.’

Stratton was curious about her relationship but at the same time annoyed at himself for being so. For someone who didn’t want a relationship he was sure acting like someone who did. Whatever, he had to know.

‘This a serious relationship?’ he asked.

‘No. Not really.’What the hell, she decided. She was going to get this out into the open here and now. ‘You know him,’ she said.

Stratton looked at her. ‘One of the det guys?’ he asked.

‘No, well, kind of . . . Bill Lawton.’

‘The LO?’ He was so surprised he almost turned in his seat.

She didn’t think he would be quite so shocked. ‘It just happened . . . We met on a flight to London.’

‘How long ago was that?’ Stratton asked, wondering if it was while he was in the det.

‘Three weeks.’

Stratton was relieved in some small way. He didn’t know much about Lawton. He was MI5, pure int and Stratton was SF. Their paths crossed only when Lawton came to the det to hand over intelligence. He never rated Lawton as a particularly good liaison officer. An LO’s job was to bring in information pertinent to the detachment’s needs, create operations, provide key pieces to puzzles. But it wasn’t just a case of going around and plucking the information off desks. At this level of the game, quality int was closely guarded and not given up easily, even to those on the same side who needed it most. Information was often bartered and exchanged. Special Branch officers and those who ran intelligence cells had to be coaxed, unless they offered it first, which meant a favour or an exchange. A good LO had to have certain qualities. He needed to be charming as well as manipulative, be able to party hard, especially with Irish Special Branch officers, but not forget his objective. Lawton just never seemed to come up with the top-quality intelligence that the det needed. Occasionally he plucked a cherry, but not often enough. And he had yet to come up with the big one, which was every LO’s dream, but apparently not his.

‘He bought me the perfume,’ Aggy said.

‘It’s nice,’ Stratton said. ‘Can I suggest you don’t put so much on?’

Bastard, she thought. ‘It’s supposed to be very good. The best they had on the flight.’

‘I didn’t know they sold perfume on the flight between Aldergrove and London,’ he said, wishing he wasn’t having this conversation any more.

‘They don’t.’

‘You went on holiday together then?’ he asked, deciding he was going to drop the subject. He was beginning to sound jealous even to himself.

She rolled her eyes, but was nonetheless encouraged by his jealousy. ‘No. He’d been to Europe for the night.’

A tiny ding went off in his head, not quite suspicion, but the natural machinery inside an intelligence operative’s brain moved a single cog. ‘When was that?’

‘Three weekends ago.’

Another clog clunked forward, this time with a little more resonance. Stratton would have been interested in anyone who had been to Europe three weekends ago.An MI5 operative got his attention.

‘He told you he’d flown to Europe?’

‘No. But I told you he’d bought the perfume on a flight.’

‘How do you know?’

Because it was written on the back of the bottle. British Airways.’

‘How do you know it was Europe?’

‘Because it wasn’t duty free.’

‘What day was that?’

She could sense the change in him. He’d gone from matter-of-fact mild irritation to a more intense curiosity. ‘What day was what?’

‘What day did he fly to Europe?’

‘Well. We flew to London from Aldergrove on the Friday morning. He said he wanted to take me to dinner that night but couldn’t. We met Saturday evening and he gave me the perfume.’

‘The twenty-third?’

‘Yes.’

The day Hank was lifted in Paris. Stratton’s mind was reeling.

‘I know he’s not a man’s man,’ she went on, ‘but he’s a lot of fun. You don’t like him very much, do you?’

Stratton’s earpiece suddenly buzzed to life. It was Singen. He touched a button on the radio in his pocket.

‘Send,’ he said.

‘We’re moving the snipers into position.’

‘Roger that,’ Stratton said and opened the car door.

‘What is it?’ Aggy asked.

‘The snipers are moving up . . . I’ll just be a minute.’

‘Stratton?’ she said as he started to climb out. ‘I don’t know what Hank looks like. Might be useful.’

‘In my bag. There’s an ops file. Be careful rummaging around in it.’

As he climbed out she leaned over the seat and opened the bag. Inside were several guns, magazines, boxes of ammunition and things that looked like explosives, which she did not want to touch. ‘And they talk about women’s handbags,’ she muttered as she found the file and pulled it out.

Stratton had got out of the car to put his thoughts in order. Lawton knew everything about the Spinks operation a week before it took place. It would also explain why the Paris op went tits up. The team was rumbled by Henri at the meeting place not because they had cocked up the surveillance but because the mole was watching the café. The mole telephoned the café and told Henri the meeting was cancelled because he saw something that alarmed him, an operative. Stratton was near the café. It was Stratton the mole recognised. If they could put Lawton in Paris the morning of the 23rd he was their man.

He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket, hit a memory button, and held it to his ear. A few seconds later it was picked up the other end. ‘Sumners here,’ the voice said.

‘It’s Stratton. Do you know a Bill Lawton?’

‘Bill Lawton,’ Sumners repeated. ‘Can’t say I do.’

‘He’s an NI detachment LO, South det, also MI5. It is possible he was in Paris on the twenty-third.’

Sumners knew exactly what Stratton was suggesting.‘Spell the name,’ he said as he grabbed a pen.

‘L-A-W-T-O-N.’

‘Okay,’ Sumners said. Stratton put the phone back in his pocket.

He looked at Aggy in the car reading the file. He didn’t suspect her of being involved. If Lawton was his man he didn’t need her to gain information about the dets. He knew more about them than she did. And she wouldn’t have told Stratton what she had if she was aware Lawton was the mole. But she was guilty by association. It would mean the end of her career. In the intelligence world no one took chances they didn’t have to. When the question came up about Aggy, as it most definitely would, she would be discharged from the intelligence world, because nothing would be gained from not doing so, but there was a million to one chance something could be lost if she remained. It would follow that she would be kicked out of the army. The blemish would follow her through her life. Even those associated with her, boyfriends, lovers and whatever else, would be highlighted. If Stratton told Sumners now, he would order her pulled from the op, and from the detachment too. But she would not know why, not until it was all over, and perhaps not even then.

He climbed back into the car feeling anxious. He wanted this op to get going, assault the boat, find Hank, the bio - and then get on with Lawton. He would protect Aggy as best he could but it would be difficult, perhaps impossible. He looked at her innocently concentrating on the file, unaware her life was in such turmoil, and he was filled with an urge to look after her.

Aggy looked up from the file, something troubling her. ‘Is Bill Lawton on this op?’

Stratton wondered where that question came from. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have. Forget I said anything.’

‘Why? Tell me.’

‘I was out of order. I should know better than to ask questions like that.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I saw something I shouldn’t have and you know the rules about that.’

He took her arm strongly. ‘I want to know why you asked that question,’ he said.

She wondered if this was a more intense kind of jealousy, and then saw something far darker in his eyes. She showed him the file, a photograph of Hank and his wife, filling the page.

Stratton glanced at it.

‘If I wasn’t supposed to see her meet him at King’s Cross I did, that’s all.’

Stratton couldn’t quite believe, or assimilate quickly enough, what he had heard. ‘Are you certain?’

‘Pretty much. King’s Cross, platform 9 to King’s Lynn, where you told me to go. I saw Lawton meet her.’

‘You saw Bill Lawton meet that woman in King’s Cross?’

‘I’m pretty certain.’

‘How certain?’

‘It’s what I do for a living. Watch people. They virtually walked right past me.’

‘Was he on the train with her?’

‘No. She was standing outside the platform waiting. He came from across the street. They met. She handed him a hatbox, or what looked like one—’

‘When?’ he interrupted brusquely.

‘Just before I caught the train here.’ She checked her watch. ‘Two and a half hours ago.’

Stratton took a moment to think the possibilities through, trying to pull together all the information.

‘How sure are you it was them? I know the business Aggy, I know it isn’t always easy to match a photograph to a real person?’

‘So do I,’ she said, not offended by his cross-examination. ‘Bill, obviously, I know. The first profile I had of her was almost the same as this photo. She has the same hair. Same eyes. She’s pretty, and she had the same expression, a little sad maybe, as if she was listening to the answer to a sad question. You know what I mean? I wouldn’t stake my life on it, but I’d call out a team.’

Stratton had a lot of confidence in Aggy. She might not be the best driver in the unit but she was good on the ground, good at surveillance. The other operatives made fun of her in camp but they believed her on the ground. They would all admit to that.

He started the car and accelerated hard to take the corner sharply and speed up the street. Aggy grabbed the door handle and dash, surprised by his sudden activity.

‘Did he see you?’

‘No.’

‘You sure?’

‘What is this all about?’ she asked.

‘Did he see you?’ Stratton shouted.

‘No!’ she shouted back.

Stratton pushed a button on his radio. ‘Zero Alpha?’ he called out as he took the next corner sharply, sliding the back end a little.

‘Send,’ came the reply.

‘I’m heading for London. I’ll explain later.’

‘Em, roger that,’ said Singen.

Stratton disconnected and turned on to a main road. ‘Check and see if there’s a blue light inside the glove compartment.’

Aggy was experienced enough to switch into high gear even though she had no idea why. The glove compartment was empty.

‘Try the back, behind the seats.’ Aggy stretched over the seat as Stratton went through a red light. When she came back she was holding a blue police light with a long lead from it. She plugged it into the lighter and it started to spin and flash. She opened her window and placed it on the roof, where the base magnets held it firm.

‘You know where Lawton lives?’

‘Yes,’ she said. Her eyes flashed between him and the road ahead, hoping he’d tell her what this was about.

Stratton weighed all he had so far: Aggy, Lawton, the growing implications. He was going to need her help with whatever was coming up. She wasn’t a spy for RIRA. She was on his side.Time could be short, and perhaps there were other things she knew about Lawton that would be meaningless to her unless she knew the whole story. She’d learn about Lawton soon enough anyway. She needed to know. ‘I believe Lawton’s a spy for RIRA,’ he said. ‘A mole.’

They hit a major roundabout, ignored several more red lights, caused a bus and a car to emergency stop, and belted off down a road signposted to London. Aggy hardly noticed the near misses, dumbstruck by what she had just heard.

Stratton took out his mobile phone, hit a button, and waited for the call to be picked up.

‘Sumners? Anything on Lawton yet?

‘I’ve put it into the system but it’s not the hottest priority right now.’

‘You might be wrong. Two and a half hours ago he met Chief Munro’s wife at King’s Cross station outside platform 9, where a train from King’s Lynn had just arrived, and she handed him a parcel.’

There was a moment’s silence before Sumners answered. ‘Holy mother of God.’

‘I’m heading into London. Be there in two hours plus. I’m gonna need a team on standby.’

‘I’ll get on it right away.’

Stratton was just about to hang up when he heard Sumners call his name. ‘Stratton? Wait! How did you come by this?’ he asked.

‘Luck. One of the det operatives on the way to Lynn for the op happened to see Lawton and recognised Mrs Munro from the ops file.’

‘We needed some luck; hope this is it.’

Stratton pocketed the phone and dropped a gear to overtake two cars on a sweeping bend. As he passed them he knocked back up into fifth and gained speed along the straight. It might take Sumners a while to figure out that Stratton had asked about Lawton being on a flight to Paris before he told him he was seen at King’s Cross. It was probably going to be impossible to protect Aggy but he would continue to explore the options for as long as he could. Of course, it didn’t mean Lawton had the bio but the implications were huge and irresponsible to ignore. Besides all else, it gave Stratton the excuse he needed to go after him. This was a bigger fish than the boat assault.

Aggy felt dazed. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She had figured her way through all the implications, what it meant to her career, her life and to her relationships in the military. It was all too horrible to contemplate. Her world had turned upside down. She suddenly felt a long, long way from Stratton.