The Operative (56 page)

‘Can I get you anything?’ Seaton asked, feeling lame.

She shook her head without looking at him, lost in her thoughts.

Seaton walked away from the car across the square and around the side of the building to the garage entrance where an engineer was talking to a senior police officer and a fire department chief.

As Seaton headed past them the engineer reached out an arm to stop him. ‘Excuse me, sir. Where are you going?’

Seaton reached inside his jacket, pulled out a small leather wallet and opened it to reveal his badge.

‘CIA,’ the engineer said with surprise, looking at the other two men and then back at Seaton. ‘Can I ask you why you wanna go inside?’

Seaton looked at him. The thin smile on his lips clearly said no. He put his badge away.

The engineer was out of his league. His body language became that of someone stepping back without actually doing so. ‘Well, it’s not officially cleared but as long as you accept responsibility—’

‘I’ll take full responsibility,’ Seaton said. ‘And I’d also appreciate it if no one else came down here while I’m inside,’ he said to the police officer.

The men looked at each other and shrugged. ‘Sure,’ the officer said.

Seaton left them watching him as he walked down the concrete ramp and into the darkness.

He headed into the centre of the garage where a handful of cars were parked, all of them covered in dust, and paused to check around. There was no sign of damage, no collapsed ceiling as far as he could tell in the poor light. He took a look at the pillar in the gloom as he drew near it. The drawings had the hatch on the west side opposite the elevators and he followed the curved wall until he found a large metal hinged bulkhead similar to that on a ship. It was held shut by six bolts evenly spaced around it. He was going to need a tool. Without wasting
another second he turned around and headed back to the garage entrance.

After a brief exchange with the fire chief a fireman was sent off and a few minutes later returned with a huge wrench. Seaton thanked him and carried the tool back down into the garage, much to the interest of the men watching.

Seaton returned to the pillar, adjusted the wrench to fit the first nut and pulled down on it. The nut moved easily, being new, and within a few minutes he had removed all six of them.

But the hatch did not readily budge and he had to use the end of the wrench to prise an edge open enough to let him get his fingers inside. He placed the wrench on the ground and pulled hard on the hatch. Putting his weight behind the effort he managed to push it open.

Seaton looked back towards the garage entrance to ensure that no one had followed him. Then he looked inside the pillar. It was too dark to make out anything and he did not have a flash-light. Too impatient to go and get one he climbed over the lip of the hatch, which was a couple of feet from ground level, and with his leg felt for the bottom inside. It should have been no more than a foot or so lower than the garage floor.

Seaton found the bottom and dropped inside the hatch. It was barely a minute before he climbed out, closed the hatch without bolting it and walked back across the garage towards the entrance. He took his phone out of his pocket.

He walked out into the sunlight, ignoring the engineer and fire and police chiefs, and raised the phone to his ear. ‘Where are you guys?’ he asked, and as the person at the other end of the line answered he heard the toot of a horn. He looked up to see a clean grey van with two men in the front. The passenger was holding a cellphone to his ear.

Seaton put his phone away. He waved at them to follow him as he turned and headed back to the garage entrance.

As he reached the engineer and the other men he beckoned the van to continue into the garage. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ he said.

The men moved to one side as the van drove down the ramp into the garage. Seaton followed.

The van came to a stop at the foot of the ramp. As Seaton walked past it started to move again and slowly followed him.

Seaton stopped at the pillar. The driver brought the van to a halt and turned off the engine. He and the passenger climbed out. They were two nondescript characters in their fifties and wore grey overalls, gloves, boots and polite businesslike smiles.

Seaton looked towards the garage entrance where the engineer and police officer were silhouetted in the light. They were obviously unable to see any detail from where they were. Seaton headed to the hatch which he pulled open more easily than he had the first time.

‘You’ll need a stretcher and body bag,’ he said to the two men. They understood, went to the back of the van and opened it. A moment later they appeared with the requested items.

Seaton climbed in through the hatch, followed by the men. It was a good five minutes before Seaton climbed out again, dusting off his hands.

One of the men climbed out, then reached back in to take hold of the end of the heavy stretcher with the now full body bag on it, zipped completely closed. He dragged it out until the other end rested on the rim of the hatch so that his partner could climb out. They carried the loaded stretcher around to the back of the van and placed it inside. Seaton closed the doors behind them.

Seaton walked back to the hatch and closed it. He quickly replaced the nuts without bothering to tighten them, then walked to the front passenger side of the van and climbed in. The driver started the van and headed for the entrance.

As they emerged out of the darkness and arrived at the top of the ramp Hobart was standing in their way. The van stopped.

Seaton opened his window as Hobart walked around to him. They looked at each other for a moment, communicating somehow without speaking. But that was not enough for Hobart.

‘You got what you were looking for?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Seaton said.

Hobart looked past Seaton at the body bag on the bench.

‘How’d you find them?’ he asked.

‘A hunch,’ Seaton said.

Hobart nodded. He would have liked to see the bodies, mainly because of something niggling away at his intuition. But, as per his agreement, Stratton and Josh were now out of his hands and for that reason he put them out of his mind as well.

‘Good luck,’ he said to Seaton as he stepped back.

‘You too.’

‘Maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime,’ Hobart said.

Seaton wondered briefly if Hobart meant it to suggest that he still had the CIA man in his pocket. But then he discounted it. Once Seaton was clear of the square the case would be closed as far as Stratton, Josh and the FBI were concerned. Hobart would provide a sufficiently convincing cover story about the Englishman and the boy to keep the media and police happy and in doing so the issue of the explosives and information that Seaton had given Stratton would be similarly buried.

‘You ever need anything, you give me a call,’ Seaton offered as a parting gift.

‘I will,’ Hobart said. ‘Same goes for you.’

Seaton tapped the driver’s arm and the van pulled away as the two agents continued to look at each other.

Not exactly the beginning of a beautiful new relationship with the CIA, Hobart thought as the van drove off. But it was a start. ‘Hendrickson?’ he called out.

Hendrickson came trotting over. ‘Sir.’

‘Take me home,’ Hobart said tiredly, squeezing the back of his neck, his face twisting in pain as he moved his head around to loosen the muscles. ‘How are you at giving massages?’ he added.

‘Sir?’ Hendrickson said, looking somewhat alarmed.

‘Lighten up, Hendrickson. I’m kidding.’

The van pulled up to the barricade and waited while the police officers moved back the crowd before opening it.

Seaton glanced out of his window at Vicky sitting in the back of the sedan, looking sad and forlorn. Then, as if she felt his gaze on her, she glanced up and stared at him. He looked away, wishing that she had not seen him. He climbed out of the passenger seat and into the back of the van.

Seaton sat on the bench opposite the body bag, contemplating it. Then he reached out, took hold of the zip and pulled it down.

Stratton and Josh lay motionless, Josh on top of Stratton, completely still, his eyes closed, as he had been told to. Stratton opened his eyes and looked at Seaton and Josh did the same.

Seaton undid the zip all the way down. Josh climbed out, relieved though still very confused. But at least he knew he was going to be all right now.

Stratton sat up painfully and eased his aching body into a more comfortable position.

‘You okay, Josh?’ Seaton asked.

Josh nodded.

‘Better sit down. We’ll be moving off in a minute,’ Seaton said.

Josh sat on the bench by the back window that was covered by a small curtain. He looked at Seaton and then at Stratton, starting to relax as his feeling of security and protection grew.

Stratton remembered something and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the camel and handed it to Josh. ‘Better hold on to that. It’s lucky.’

Josh took it, happy to have it back.

The van lurched forward and stopped again as people milled around, getting out of the way. The movement made the curtain shift enough for Josh to catch a glimpse outside. He recognised someone and stood up and moved the curtain aside to see Vicky standing beside a car, looking towards the van.

‘Vicky,’ Josh called out as he waved.

Vicky could not hear him. But as her gaze roved along the back of the van her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Josh’s little face in the window.

Stratton reacted to the name and joined Josh at the window.

Vicky put her hands to her mouth, scarcely able to contain herself as she watched the two faces that she had prayed most to see again. Deep down she somehow understood that they could not stop to speak with her and, even worse, that she might never see them again. Although the sadness of that would not hit home fully until later, nonetheless the joy of seeing them alive was beyond anything that she had ever felt in her life before.

The tears streamed down her face as the van moved away. She waved until it was out of sight.

Stratton sat back tiredly, about to reflect on Vicky, then Seaton cleared his throat, wanting to talk.

‘So, what now?’ Stratton asked.

Seaton nodded, thinking the question through. ‘Well. You’ll go back to the UK, you and Josh, never to darken the doors of Los Angeles again. John Stratton was never here and so he didn’t blow the hell out of that building, nor did he do everything else that he, er, didn’t do – as far as we’re concerned. I can’t speak for your own people but I should think they would see it the same way. You might find yourself stationed in Outer Mongolia for a decade or so but other than that …’ Seaton shrugged.

Stratton exhaled heavily, agreeing. It was the most likely upshot
of the several that he had speculated about while waiting in the base of the central pillar.

Josh sat down beside him. Stratton put his arm around the boy and kissed him on the top of his head as his thoughts went to Jack and Sally. He hoped that they would be content with the outcome and would forgive him for the dangers that he had put their son through. Wherever they were now, they were still practical people and would know that, as in any war, it wasn’t always the conduct of the campaign that mattered as much as the end result.