Ross picked up the box containing the compound that they had been using for experimentation purposes. They had only needed a miniscule amount, but he had brought along more in case it had been required. Military personnel came up behind him, and they clicked their heels as he turned.
“Sir, we’ll escort you back to the lab.”
“Yes, thank you. That would be helpful.”
Ross walked down the path back to the lab, accompanied in a diamond formation by the heavily armed officers. He remained silent. The men didn’t seem the type for small talk, and anyway, he had three things that occupied his whole mind: his wife, his son and his daughter.
Chapter 57
After Sam’s confrontation, the PM decided it was time to wrap up proceedings.
“Dr. Noor, we all concur with your advice regarding infiltration. It is, perhaps, not the best way to use finite resources.” Ashton turned to Gibbs and Maide. “Given the existence of this new cell, I’d like a full report from Five and Six on my desk by 9 a.m. tomorrow on increased security measures for the forthcoming UN Peace Summit.”
The PM didn’t wait for a response. It was a given that Gibbs and Maide had to deliver on this request.
The United Nations Peace Summit would be the world’s definitive strike against Al Nadir. Getting the Resolution 8091 Extreme Unreserved Force tabled at the summit had been crucial. Ratification of it was the reason the summit was being held. Ashton knew London, the hosts of the summit would be targeted for all kinds of hell from those terrorist bastards. That meant they had just three days to lock down any security threats, neutralize hostiles, obliterate cells and make the QE2 Conference Center, the venue for the summit, the safest place on the planet.
Ashton stared at Maide and then Gibbs. He wondered if either of them had the ability to deliver what he wanted.
“Right. Well, thank you, gentlemen. I wait to hear good news soon,” said Ashton, flicking into his usual mode of address.
Ashton always finished briefings on a positive note. The ‘wait to hear good news soon’ was his constant belief that things could be turned around. It was a mantra that instilled in him some form of confidence.
Amidst the nodding heads, the PM collected his papers, stood up, and appeared to walk out, but he glanced back and watched as Sam rose, gritted his teeth and glared at Quentin and Maide.
The agent still seemed to be holding down an inner rage.
Ashton didn’t want to know. As long the guy did his job and kept the UK safe, he could beat the shit out of Quentin for all he cared.
Chapter 58
Screw this! What the hell am I doing?
Ellie slammed her laptop shut. She’d been Googling “balance shifted” and derivatives of it ever since Sam had left. She’d already blown her appointment at the spa by suddenly obsessing over her laptop, making strange searches. All she’d come up with was nothing but a blistering headache. Catching a glimpse of her pale, drawn face in the mirror, she decided that at least she could get a good workout in the Silent Waters’ gym.
An hour later, Ellie arrived back from the gym, knackered, but feeling much more alive than the geeky hermit she was earlier. She sat on the sofa, downed an OJ and flicked on the TV. She grimaced as some hideously cutesy, blonde boys, who looked like they’d been manufactured by a mad Nazi scientist, massacred a golden classic.
“You should be doing homework, not singing harmonies,” muttered Ellie enviously, and she flicked to CNN.
Instantly, she was dragged into the scene. A harassed female reporter in her late forties was standing in a tree-lined street. Expensive parked cars either side suggested a wealthy Western country. Behind the reporter, rapid activity signaled something terrible had happened. A man was closing the doors at the back of an ambulance. Exhausted firemen were returning back to their engine. Police cars and darkened people carriers were parked at erratic angles, half on, half off the pavement. Teams in dark clothes and body armor wandered around the street. Several suits did their upmost to stay out of the frame.
Ellie increased the sound.
“…possible assassination of a British Foreign Office official by Al Nadir.”
The camera panned to the left of the reporter to show a house. The steps leading up to the front door were intact, but the door had been completely blasted away. The camera zoomed in to show a blackened and smoking hall. Strewn across the pavement was shattered glass and unidentifiable remnants. Water still dripped from the upper walls. Such was the ferocity of the blast, its impact had blown upwards, obliterating the wooden staircase. The inner rooms were in deep shadow. Ellie could discern splinters of wood hanging down from the upper landing like pupae sacks on a branch. At the front of the house, the internal walls had crumbled under a force and were now rubble. A piece of a child’s dolls house pointed upwards from the ruins.
Ellie gulped, a lump in her throat rising fast as she looked at the scene. The wreckage she was looking at was once home to a family.
“However, much is still to be known about the explosion that killed the British Senior Foreign Office diplomat, Dr. Matthew Kinley, his wife and their four-year-old daughter. We’ll bring you more news as we have it. Now it’s back to the studio. This is Susan Davidowitz in Alexandria, Washington DC, for CNN.”
Ellie stared dumbstruck at the screen. She knew Matthew Kinley. She had met him and his wife Angela at a Foreign Office Christmas party in Washington DC some years ago. He had been a kind, charming man. She remembered how he’d left Syria when the embassy shut, and how happy he’d been to be the Head of the Science and Technology Section in the Science, Technology, Energy and Environment Department of the British Embassy in Washington DC.
He’d made the comment that it was ‘an altogether safer environment for a British official’. Ellie recalled the image of his demolished house.
Yes, she thought, a really safe environment.
Chapter 59
Sabena stared at her phone. Ensconced in her private plane, she curled up on a sofa and slipped her arm leisurely behind her head as she leant back on the cushion. She flicked open the alert that had flashed up on her screen. CNN live started to run. A straight-laced female reporter with a lopsided mouth and dark curly hair gave the run down. Behind her stood a house with the entire front section blown away. Ambulances, petrol cars and blacked-out SUVs littered the area.
Sabena smiled contentedly and pressed pause, keeping a still of the devastated street and obliterated home.
“Teach you to fuck with me, Mr. Kinley!”
Venom dripped from her tongue. Although she tried to quell the hatred, one thought of Kinley and it flowed through her, unrestricted.
He had been everything to her.
It wasn’t love. That would have shown weakness.
But it was obsession.
From the moment she’d taken him in January over four years ago, he’d gotten into her mind. He’d tricked his way in with his gorgeous body, sparkling crystal blue eyes…
And his lies.
She believed him from the start. She could read liars. If she’d smelt something wrong, he’d have been sent back to River House in little pieces.
Every word he said about hating the government, MI6 and the establishment, she knew, was true. In his eyes she’d seen the pain and anger. She could feel his absolute hatred.
Salim hadn’t trusted him at first. Sabena had rowed over how wrong his judgement had been. She’d vehemently defended Kinley and placed her own credibility on the line to vouch for him. Even when Kinley had killed another MI6 agent, Dan Carter in Florence, Salim didn’t believe him.
“They take out their own. It was a mercy killing. It doesn’t mean he’s with us, Sabena. I don’t trust him.”
Sabena could hear Salim’s words in her ears. She’d fought with Salim, verbally and, finally, physically.
“I told you, Sabena. He’s been too easy. Accepting everything. Doing anything we ask. I don’t know but there’s something about him that doesn’t ring true
. I’m going to speak to him.”
Sabena knew what speak really meant. Salim intended to torture Kinley. She knew he wouldn’t survive. She knew that Kinley spoke the truth. He hated MI6. He hated everything about the establishment. He wanted to wreck them. She’d seen it in his eyes. She couldn’t let Salim make a terrible mistake, a mistake where she would lose so much.
She watched Salim retreat away from her. He’d made up his mind.
She had to unmake it for him.
Sabena reached out, grabbed Salim’s shoulder and wrenched him back, pulling him down toward the floor. Salim was taken by surprised at Sabena’s unexpected attack and lost his footing, falling back heavily. Sabena leapt on him and wrapped her hands around his throat. Salim pushed up against her chest with a vicious force and hurled her onto her back. His body came down upon Sabena’s and he pelted her body hard. Sabena smashed her fists back at him, and brought her knee up fast into Salim’s balls. He grimaced and lifted her body off the floor then slammed it down with a murderous force. Sabena heard a crack, and pain shot across her body.
“What is wrong with you, Sabena?” screamed Salim, as he tried to snatch at her wrists.
“Leave Kinley alone!” Sabena yelled, wincing as she tried to wriggle free of Salim’s iron grip. Pain thundered through the left side of her body. She felt shattered inside and knew Salim must have cracked a few ribs.
“He’s telling the truth. For once in your fucking life, see what’s in front of you. Please, Salim. He’s on our side. He’s with us. He is us. Trust him. You’ve got to trust him. He’ll do anything you say. Anything I say. He just wants to be accepted. We’ve got the Piccadilly attack planned. Let’s bring him in. If suddenly we hear that they find the bombs, we’ll know he’s MI6 and I’ll happily rip him apart. Believe me, Salim. I’m not going soft. But as it stands, he’s still our best asset in British Intelligence. Don’t burn that.”
“Are we done?” said Salim sharply, still holding Sabena’s wrists. His eyes flashed with fury.
Sabena nodded with reluctance. Salim released her and she pushed back on her weight. She tried to rise from the floor but couldn’t. Salim bent down and allowed Sabena’s weight to fall onto him as he helped to pull her up. As she rose, she breathed deeply, suppressing the pain.
“Ok?” asked Salim. A fraction of softness filtered into his tone as he watched Sabena.
“Yeah. I’m ok. But I meant what I said about Kinley,” snapped Sabena, shrugging off Salim’s hands on her body. “You promise me you’ll never consider speaking to him?”
Salim’s eyes bore deep inside Sabena. She was in pain and could barely stand upright with her busted ribs. But she faced off against him and wouldn’t accept any other response than total agreement to her demands.
“No speaking,” agreed Salim grudgingly. Then his head tipped a little to the side. “Need a doctor?”
Sabena touched her ribcage. She’d been right. A couple of her ribs had been broken. But it had been worth it. She’d saved Kinley from being spoken to.
Sabena had never backed down on her complete belief that Kinley had turned. Before the Piccadilly bombing, Kinley had given them access to so much. He’d even revealed a string of safe houses across the world, and after the spies had been captured, Kinley happily took part in their torture and execution.
She’d seen the pleasure on his face. She knew you couldn’t fake elation when you’re carving someone up.
Kinley was a kindred spirit.
She felt there was a bond between them, a passion for the dark they shared.
When she’d told Kinley about the Piccadilly bombing, she’d seen the joy in his eyes.
“Are you ok with that, Mr. Kinley?”
“Fuck yes! This is what I want. This is always what I’ve wanted!”
She remembered Kinley had been so ecstatic about the prospect of the bombing bringing down the UK government and its security apparatus. He didn’t give a shit about the lives that would be taken. He just wanted the establishment to suffer. Kinley didn’t care about collateral damage.
Despite Kinley’s happy response, Salim had given her strict instructions to monitor everything he did afterwards. Nothing came through. No clandestine meeting. No chatter indicating Six knew the bombing was going to happen.
Kinley had carried on as usual, being an MI6 spy and a diplomat in STEE.
After Piccadilly, everything changed.
The dynamic between Salim and Kinley flipped. Salim trusted Kinley implicitly.
Sabena recalled, with a shudder, Barcelona. After they’d watched the devastation on central London, they started to party, and party very, very hard. The three of them, Salim, Kinley and her, had celebrated, enjoying each other’s bodies along with copious amounts of champagne and coke.
Inhibition hadn’t been a word in their vocabulary.
Over time, they became a sort of weird triumvirate of power in Al Nadir.
Kinley showed he had a love of power and enjoyed dominating those beneath him. He rivaled Salim in his ability for ruthlessness.
That’s what drew her closer to him.
Sabena had even crafted an alias, Stuart Kingswood, and designed a special nano-mask for him, to keep his activities from the prying eyes of the intelligence community. She actually cared for his safety. She could hardly remember a time when she cared for anything or anyone before. But Kinley had gotten to her. He had slipped into her psyche and twisted her ability to know what was really happening.
Her ability of perfect recall sometimes tormented her. In Kinley’s case, it subtly underlined what an absolute idiot she had let herself become.
“Ok. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell you what’s happening. Really happening. Because you don’t know. You’re in the dark, Sabena. All your mighty intelligence and the most vital intel has evaded you. But I have it,” Kinley had said, back four years ago when he’d first told her he wanted to flip and become Al Nadir.
Recalling that conversation back on January 27, 2013, Sabena could see that Kinley had certainly left her in the dark. The vital intel had evaded her, and she didn’t know what was really happening. Kinley had kept her in that blinded state for over four years.
It was only by the sarcastic attitude of Godley, their spy in the UK Cabinet, that they discovered the truth just a month ago. She heard it as she scanned the transcripts from Russo’s monthly meeting with Godley.
“Seems like Ashton and Maide haven’t got anything better to do but look at bloody flower websites. Talk about fiddling while Rome burns.”
It had been a passing, seemingly innocent poke at the PM and head of MI6 for their lack of doing anything more substantial than tidying up their gardens. But both Ashton and Maide were interested in the same flower site? Her hackles shot up. She spared no time in activating an asset Al Nadir had in the IT department within Number 10. A copy of the website code was secured and delivered to Sabena’s cryptographic team.
After weeks of searching, one bright analyst suggested steganographic encryption.
Sabena recalled the gawky analyst standing in front of her trying to explain how she and the whole of Al Nadir had been made fools of by MI6.
“It is really most simple,” muttered the analyst, using the same excited voice that geeks tend to use when explaining something technical they love.
The analyst pressed on the touch screen and brought up the Forever Flowers website.
“See. Here is the website as normal. They’re just a bunch of flowers, roses, tulips, snowdrops etc.”
“Yes,” snapped Sabena. “I know what the flowers are. Tell me how they hid their fucking messages!”
The analyst shuffled and brought up another window, showing the machine code prompt. He typed in some words and symbols. Sabena recognized the word ‘extract’ in all that the analyst typed.
Suddenly, the machine code window flashed up with information. Dates and times of operations. Intel about Al Nadir operatives. Account codes. All kinds of
information.
“How have they done this? What the fuck did they use?” hissed Sabena, glaring at the information popping up in the window.
The analyst explained to Sabena that there were various techniques to hide secret messages in plain sight. Least Significant Bit (LSB) steganography was a form of steganographic encryption that enabled messages to be encoded into an image by the process of augmenting the image’s binary code. The other steganographic technique, the Discrete Cosine Transform Coefficient technique, was one that slightly changed the weights or coefficients of the cosine waves that are used to reconstruct a JPEG image, enabling messages to be encrypted within the image.
“We need to monitor this site constantly and use your steganographic algorithm to overwrite the messages from MI6 with our own little snippets of intel. From now on, we’re taking back control.”
Sabena patted the analyst on the back, and he nodded, understanding what he had to do.
Sabena turned away and her dangerous eyes glowed with passionate rage. Only one person could possibly have passed on all that information. She vowed that Kinley would never put her in the dark again.
Having the knowledge of Kinley’s treacherous double-cross enabled Salim and Sabena to serve up misinformation. As a result, missions built on Kinley’s intelligence over the past four weeks were bloodbaths for the Six agents concerned.
But this didn’t go anywhere near to appeasing the vicious betrayal felt by both Salim and Sabena. Sabena had wanted to tear him apart. But Salim had calmed her down. She remembered their brief discourse.
“The motherfucker betrayed us, but he’s done it all without showing a thing. He’s given nothing away. He really is quite an extraordinary spy.”
“It sounds like you admire him, Salim!”
“In a way, I do. But we must now be one better. We can’t afford to give anything away either. Keep him close. Treat him the same, as I will do. When the times comes, he won’t know what’s hit him.”
The Trusted Page 17