Covert Assassin

by Ethan Jones

  Justin nodded and looked at Carrie. She finished a small bite of lamb, then mouthed the words Flight plans. Justin nodded, then said, “Yes, about the Prime Minister’s visit. Elliott and Coole have made it clear we shouldn’t gather intel in London or anywhere in the UK. If they find out, we’d get in trouble.”

  “So make sure they don’t find out,” Flavio said in a somewhat mischievous tone. “I’ll give you busywork to buy you a couple of days, if you need them.”

  Justin smiled. “Thanks, sir. Meeting the ambassador’s security advisor and other embassy officials will work.”

  The Canadian diplomatic mission to London was called the High Commission of Canada in the United Kingdom, but everyone except for the commission’s officials referred to it as the “embassy.”

  “Yes, I can arrange that.”

  “Great.”

  “I’ll also talk to my counterpart in MI6, someone higher up in the food chain than Elliott. And I’ll bring this to the director’s attention. He knows how to throw his weight around.”

  “All right. Anything else?”

  “No.” Justin looked at Carrie and gestured toward her, then at the phone.

  Carrie shook her head.

  Justin said, “We’re good.”

  “Enjoy the rest of the evening, Justin, and keep me posted. I’ll be in the office until midnight, probably even longer.”

  “Get some rest, sir.”

  “Yes, yes, I should, but not tonight. Be safe now.”

  “You too.” Justin ended the call and returned the phone to his inside jacket pocket.

  “Tell me what he said,” Carrie whispered.

  “Sure, just let me take a couple of bites before everything gets cold. We have all evening to talk about our next steps.”

  Chapter Five

  Red Square Hotel, Moscow Road

  Knightsbridge, London, England

  Justin had barely fallen asleep when he heard a soft knock on the door. His hand instinctively went for his Sig Sauer pistol underneath his pillow. He jumped to his feet and tiptoed along the wall, making no noise as he slid across the plush carpet. He stayed away from the door and listened.

  Another soft rap, followed by a low voice: “Justin, Justin, this is Coole. Justin?”

  Coole? What is she doing here?

  “Eh ... give me a sec.”

  “No, no time. Open up.”

  “You alone?”

  “Yes, but I won’t be if you don’t open the door.”

  Justin looked at himself in the narrow mirror on the closet near the door. He was wearing only black boxers. It would not take more than ten seconds to put on a pair of jeans, but the urgency in Coole’s voice pressed him to open the door. “Get in, quick.”

  Coole brushed passed him, and Justin closed the door as fast as he had opened it. He looked at Coole, who had moved toward the small kitchen of the suite, then he listened.

  Hurried, heavy footsteps came from down the hall. They became slower and quieter as they neared the door. Justin tipped his head and strained his ears. He thought he heard a man’s voice mumbling something indistinct. A couple of moments later, the mumbling and the footsteps disappeared.

  Justin waited a few more seconds, then glanced at Coole. She was standing near the window and staring at him. Justin felt her admiring eyes running up and down his body. She walked closer to him and said, “Where did you get those wounds?”

  Justin shrugged. “A gift from Gaddafi’s thugs.”

  Three deep scars, almost eight inches long, carved their way along his shoulder blades. They were reminders of the time he was captured in Libya after a hostage rescue operation that went wrong. It was during the time that Colonel Muammar Gaddafi, the “mad dog of the Middle East,” ruled Libya with an iron fist. Gaddafi had reaped what he had sown back in 2011, when he was killed by an enraged mob.

  “I’m sorry,” Coole said in a sincere voice.

  Justin shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

  He turned around and took a pair of jeans from the closet, slipped them on, then put on a white t-shirt. He swept back his disheveled hair and checked it in the mirror. The hair was still slightly messy, but Justin was not going to waste more time with it. “Coole, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, you can call me Mandy. May I sit down?” She pointed at the only chair near the small desk.

  “Sure. Do you want some coffee? Water?”

  “I’ll take some coffee, thanks.”

  Justin nodded and glanced at the alarm clock by the nightstand. The red digits showed it was 1:35 in the morning. “So, what brings you here?” he said in a low voice as he began to fill the coffeemaker’s pot.

  “I’m not here for sex, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Mandy said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “I didn’t get that vibe during the meeting.”

  “Yes, about that ... I had to keep up appearances. As you have probably guessed, Elliott is very territorial and insecure. He perceives most offers of collaboration as threats to his fragile ego.”

  “You seem to know him quite well.”

  “I do. I’ve worked with him for over six months. Elliott is a casebook study on how not to work with partner agencies.”

  “And you obviously disagree, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  Mandy nodded, and her ponytail swung along with her head’s movement. “Yes, I think we should work together in pursuing the Chinese lead.”

  Justin started the coffeemaker and returned to the desk. He stood a couple of feet away from Mandy. Her dark-skinned face had a strange glow under the faint light peeking through the edges of the blinds. “And how should we do that?”

  “We’ll pool resources, double-check, and compare notes.”

  “Unofficially.”

  Mandy nodded. “Yes, completely off the record.”

  Justin gave Mandy an inquisitive glance. “You will do all this behind Elliott’s back?”

  “I’m here, am I not?”

  Justin nodded. “Yes, but why?”

  “Because I don’t want a terrorist attack killing scores of innocents and spreading fear in my city. Elliott is a fool, but he’s also my boss.” She shrugged. “He’s not going to learn about this from me.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “I hope he won’t learn it from you either.”

  Justin pondered Mandy’s words and her offer. It was unexpected, but it seemed genuine. He shrugged, then said, “I’ll have to think about it. But, who were those people?”

  “I’m not sure, but my gut tells me they work for Elliott.”

  “Are they Six?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If Elliott sent them, then he suspects you?”

  “Elliott suspects everyone around him.”

  “But he doesn’t follow them all, does he?”

  “No, that’s true.”

  “Have you given him reason for suspicion?”

  Mandy shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ve been extremely careful.”

  “So, this is random?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe he saw you winking at me, which was very risky.”

  Mandy smiled. “I admit, not my best move. But it worked, right?”

  “It did. Now, how did you know where we’re staying? I don’t recall telling you or Elliott about it.”

  “Justin, I’m MI6. You don’t think I can find someone in my own city?”

  “That’s pretty bold. Let’s see if you can do the same trick with our Chinese friend.”

  “I’m already on it.”

  “Tell me what you have.”

  “How about that coffee first?”

  Justin nodded and headed to the kitchen. He interrupted the coffeemaker’s brewing cycle and filled Mandy’s cup. Then he poured what was left in the pot into his cup, a little more than a quarter. He shrugged and returned to the desk.

  “Sugar? Cream?”

  “No, I take it black.”

  Mandy sipped the coffee,
then said, “As soon as you mentioned the Chinese, I began to search for known or suspected MSS operatives who were or are planning to be in London or elsewhere in the UK. As you know, sometimes they travel under the guise of businessmen, students, even artists.”

  Justin nodded. The MSS was the Ministry of State Security, the reputable and feared Chinese foreign security agency. It was tasked with gathering intelligence and executing counterintelligence operations overseas. After the United States and Russia, the Chinese intelligence structure was the third most powerful in the world. In broad lines, it mimicked the former Russian KGB, reporting to and controlled by the Chinese Communist Party. In the last couple of years, after a series of terrorist attacks had rocked China’s largest cities, Shanghai and Beijing, the government had expanded its intelligence-gathering operation in neighboring countries, stretching as far as Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. “Has anyone popped up?”

  “Not yet. I’m running a couple of database searches. We should have some names soon. And whatever I’ll find, I’ll share with you.” She took another sip, then added, “And I hope you’ll do the same.”

  Justin gazed deep into Mandy’s hazelnut eyes. Is that why she’s here? So she can learn what intel we have? What if Elliott sent her? If it’s true that he is so insecure, he might try to take credit for this op. Justin was not concerned about that scenario, as he never cared about climbing the agency’s career ladder. But another thought weighed heavily on his mind. What if Elliott tried to sabotage Justin’s and Carrie’s efforts? Make us look bad so that Elliott emerges as the best? Could Elliott somehow be involved with the Chinese? Justin shook his head. The idea was way too far-fetched even for his borderline paranoid mind.

  “What are you thinking, Justin?”

  “What to do next.”

  “You’re going to share intel, right?”

  “Of course,” Justin answered without hesitation. On a need-to-know basis, of course. He kept the thought to himself.

  “Good, very good.” Mandy said. She pulled out from her purse a small notepad and a pen and scribbled a number. She tore off the piece of paper and slid it across the desk. “One of my burner phones. You’re the only one who has it. We’ll use this for our communications.”

  Justin nodded. “I’ll call you as soon as we have something. Oh, by the way, we’re not leaving tomorrow as initially planned.”

  “What happened?”

  “We’ll need to brief our embassy about the potential threat.”

  “And not meeting with any assets, right?”

  Justin smiled. “I told Elliott I wasn’t going to do that.”

  Mandy smiled back. “Yes, you did.” She sipped her coffee. “Now, let’s talk about the SAS operative. What have you learned about him?”

  Justin shrugged. “One of our assets was looking into it, but that went nowhere. We know the agent disappeared in Syria. No terror group claimed responsibility for killing him. No ransom demands.”

  “It was a covert op gone wrong.”

  “It was. The body of his partner, William Ramsey, was found about five miles south of the Al-Tanaf base, where SAS and US Navy Seals are training the New Syrian Army fighters. Ramsey was shot once, at point-blank range. In the back.”

  Mandy nodded.

  Justin said, “You know the base is but a short distance from the Jordan and the Iraq border.”

  “Yes, less than ten miles.”

  “Correct. So the SAS operative could be anywhere in any of those countries. The Land Rover was not found, and Ramsey was stripped of his weapons and tactical gear.”

  “SAS believes he killed his teammate and deserted, but I can’t believe that,” Mandy said in a voice full of anger and regret.

  “That’s their official version, yes, and I don’t accept it either,” Justin said. “All evidence points to that conclusion, though.”

  “It’s not possible.”

  “No, it’s quite possible. I’ve seen people betray their country, their partners, their friends. I’m going to dig deeper to find out exactly what happened. I’ve received the complete files of both Ramsey and the operative, Malcolm Thames. I’ll review them again. Perhaps I missed something, a clue.”

  “All right. Let me know what you find.” Mandy finished the last of her coffee.

  “Sure. I’ll do that.”

  Mandy stood up and offered Justin her hand.

  He shook it and along with her smooth, soft skin, he felt like he had been played. An uneasy sensation began to build deep in his gut. She’s not being completely honest with me, I know that for sure. But what is her game? What is she trying to get?

  Chapter Six

  Red Square Hotel, Moscow Road

  Knightsbridge, London, England

  Justin tried to shut down his mind and go back to sleep, but found it impossible. After Mandy’s strange visit and the conversation with her, his mind was supercharged, running at full speed on all cylinders. He considered a variety of scenarios, but all of them ended with the SAS operative putting a bullet into his teammate’s back. There had been no signs of an attack, unless the team met with people they trusted, who had turned against them. Ramsey had been shot by a small-calibre weapon, most likely a 9mm pistol, but ballistics had been unable to confirm it with a hundred percent certainty. It was true that Ramsey’s body was found a few hours after he had been killed, but his teammate still remained the only suspect.

  He rolled and turned in his bed for a long hour, then got lost in a deep, dreamless sleep. When he woke at the sound of a loud truck horn just outside the window, it was almost six thirty. Oh, I slept in.

  Justin showered and shaved and at seven was sitting at the desk, studying the thick file he had received from SAS. The coffee was brewing, and he had read the first couple of pages, when there was a soft knock on the door. “Justin, Justin, you awake?” Carrie said.

  “Yes, yes, coming right away.”

  He opened the door and let Carrie in. She wore her small rimless reading glasses, had put on black jeans and a gray Canadian Armed Forces t-shirt. Her hair was tied in her usual semi-ponytail. She was carrying a couple of large Caffè Nero blue coffee cups and a thick black folder, which Justin recognized as having all her notes about the operation. “I brought fuel.” Carrie tipped her head toward the coffees.

  “Good. We need it. Did you go for a run?”

  “Yeah, a short one along Hyde Park.”

  “Sorry I missed it. I slept in.”

  “I figured, otherwise you’d have called. I waited until six ten before leaving.”

  “I had an interesting visit last night. Mandy Coole.”

  Carrie peered at Justin. “Really? What did she want?”

  “She wants us to work with her. Obviously, she disagrees with Elliott.”

  “That’s not the impression she gave me at the meeting.”

  “Mandy has to keep up appearances.”

  Carrie smiled. “Mandy? What happened to MI6 Agent Coole?”

  Justin shrugged. “She prefers Mandy.”

  “All right. What did Mandy say?”

  Justin gave Carrie a brief summary of the conversation. When he finished, Carrie asked, “How much do you believe of what Mandy says?”

  “At this point, very little. Until she gives us concrete, useful intel, her offer of cooperation is a nice, but worthless gesture.”

  “I agree. The less we give Mandy, the better. At least, until we’ve figured out her true intentions.”

  “Yes. I’m not sure if she came on her own initiative, or Elliott sent her to learn what we’re doing.”

  “That would be pretty pathetic of him. Does he really suspect we’re such rookies?”

  Justin shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. Some people are really gullible.”

  “Not covert operatives. Not often, anyway.”

  Justin sipped his coffee. “Mmmmm, this is really good. Strong.”

  “Glad you like it.” Carrie took a long sip of her cup. “Now, did you tell Mand
y anything about Dunbar’s MI5 connection?”

  “No. Too early for that. We’ll use our own resources to identify him and find out what he knows about the London plot. If our MI5 contact can’t deliver, we might consider reaching out to Mandy.”

  “She’ll ask some pointed questions.”

  Justin shrugged. “We’re used to it.”

  Carrie nodded. “What have you found?”

  “I’d just started when you knocked. Went through two pages.”

  “Did you eat anything?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you can’t do much on an empty stomach.”

  “Agreed. We’ll finish the coffee and get some breakfast.”

  “I see some bacon and eggs in the near future.”

  “Healthy bacon?”

  Carrie shrugged. “I’m still trying to eat healthy, but there’s no such thing. During my run, I went by this place that had turkey bacon.”

  “And that’s healthier?”

  “Somewhat. Better than pork bacon for sure.”

  “I’ll give it a try. Then we’ll head to the embassy.”

  Carrie nodded. “Yes. If we’re supposed to brief the ambassador’s team, the least we can do is show up at the embassy.”

  Justin took another sip, enjoying the coffee’s bold taste and strong aroma.

  * * *

  Justin and Carrie spent the first hour at the embassy poring over the files, reviewing and analyzing everything for the second or the third time. Justin looked at everything from another viewpoint, taking into account what Dunbar had told them. During the first sweep, he had ignored anything peripheral to or seemingly unimportant about Thames’s disappearance. Now, armed with the new intelligence, Justin began to look for anything even remotely related to China.

  He found at least a couple of hints.

  Thames’s girlfriend, Mary, was born in Beijing to a Chinese father and an English mother. Mary’s family had moved to London about three years ago, when she had changed her name from Chen to Mary. She had started to date Thames about seven months ago. At that time, SAS had conducted a thorough background search on Mary and her family, which, of course, had included the time when they were living in China. SAS had sent two investigators to Beijing to look into the family’s history and affairs. The search had revealed nothing suspicious. Mary was an upright, law-abiding citizen, and so were the other members of her family. The father worked as a senior executive for a Chinese investment firm in the UK, while her mother was a housewife.