Huntress

by Amanda Radley

  Amy turned back to the mirror and stared at her reflection. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of it before. Small changes to her appearance could have a big effect. She could beat the facial recognition. It was like David versus Goliath, but now David had a secret weapon.

  “Bloody hell!” Kerry exclaimed. “You look so different.”

  Amy did a little turn and curtsied. “Good, isn’t it?

  “Amazing,” Kerry said as she walked around Amy to get the full effect.

  “I have one for you,” Beryl said, holding out a long, blonde wig for Kerry.

  Kerry took the wig and eagerly put it on. Amy helped her to straighten it out, and all three women giggled.

  “These are amazing, why do you have them?” Kerry asked.

  “I saw them in a charity shop, and I thought why not,” Beryl explained. She reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair under the cap. “You look beautiful. Both of you do.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind us having these?” Amy questioned. “You’ve already been so generous.”

  Beryl waved her hand. “You fixed my front door, got me on the email, and have been the best company I’ve had in ages. I’m just happy someone will get some use out of them.”

  Amy turned to Kerry who was looking in the mirror and playing with her newly acquired long locks. She looked at her own reflection and smiled at the results.

  “I don’t suppose you two have any use for these?” Beryl asked.

  Amy turned around. Beryl held two walkie-talkies that she had fished out of the bottom of the bag. She took one of them and looked it over.

  “You said you can’t use your mobile phones, but you could use these.”

  “These are perfect,” Amy said. “We can definitely use these.”

  Inspiration struck her at that moment. A way to help Beryl reconnect with the outside world. “Beryl, you know you said you were into genealogy? Looking up your family tree and stuff? Have you ever thought about joining an online forum?”

  Beryl looked confused. “What’s one of them?”

  “It’s like a message board, but on the Internet. You can talk to like-minded people about things. In this case, genealogy.”

  “That sounds interesting, how do you find these boards?” Beryl asked.

  15

  A Thread

  Claudia pinned the poster onto the noticeboard, smoothing out the paper as she did. She took a step back and reviewed all the details.

  “They in trouble?”

  She turned around to see an elderly man looking at the poster.

  “Have you seen them?” Claudia asked.

  “Nope. They in trouble, though?” He repeated.

  “They’re not what they seem,” Claudia said. It was the curiosity that got to most people. If you said they weren’t in trouble, then no one cared. If you say they were in trouble, not only were you breaking the law, but no one wanted to be a snitch. Saying they weren’t what they seemed gave an air of mystery, usually made people speak if they knew anything.

  The man narrowed his eyes a little at the two photographs. “Kerry Wyatt and Amy Hewitt. Hm.”

  Claudia watched him. Like so many people in the area, she got the impression that he had seen them. But their reactions could just as easily be attributed to something new and potentially exciting happening in the village.

  “There’s a reward,” she added.

  “Cash reward?”

  “Mm.” She stepped away from the noticeboard and picked up her bag.

  “If I were to see them, how would I claim that reward?”

  She pointed at the poster. “Pick up the phone and call me.”

  He looked at the poster again before he grunted and walked away. She watched him go and then tapped her wireless earpiece. A moment later she was connected.

  “Hey,” Mark greeted.

  “I can’t tell if the locals have seen them, or if they are so bored they wish they had.”

  “You’re still in Trimdon?”

  “Yes, the posters are getting a lot of interest. I think you’ll be getting some calls soon. Make sure you big up the cash reward.” She walked out of the small supermarket and into the car park. It was Saturday morning, and most of the village seemed to be out. Claudia looked at their faces to see if there was anyone she hadn’t spoken to yet.

  People were always reluctant to speak to her, thinking that she was with the police. But she could tell from the look in their eyes that some of them knew something. Sometimes that was enough. The inkling of recognition was all she needed to know that she was on the correct path. She knew that word travelled fast in places like Trimdon and the surrounding villages. Word of some unusual travellers would soon spread like wildfire.

  “Actually,” Mark said, “I was about to call you. I picked up some social media chatter. Someone called Herby742 said he spoke to two hitchhikers who are on the run. He lives thirty minutes from your location.”

  Claudia smiled and picked up the pace in returning to her car. After Bishopton the trail had started to go cold. She had zigzagged the county, speaking to as many people as she could and putting up posters. While she hadn’t had any positive identifications yet, she could tell she was in the right area.

  “Perfect. Can you get me an address?”

  She rolled her shoulders before getting into the car. Another few hours’ sleep grabbed in the driver’s seat of the car was definitely a younger person’s game. She longed for a bed and a decent night’s sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t have either until this case was closed.

  “Working on it now. I’ve tracked some of the photographs on his Twitter account that match a Facebook account. Through that I have his real name and I’m just locating his workplace on LinkedIn.”

  Claudia opened the car and quickly started the engine. “How long ago was this mention?”

  “Around lunchtime yesterday, twenty-one hours ago. He’s a delivery driver, and it was at the start of his shift. According to his Facebook account, he is working again today. Right, I have an address, I’m uploading it to your satnav now.”

  Claudia saw the map flash up and drove off. “Great. It’s a start. But this does mean that they are hitchhiking which makes things a lot more difficult.”

  “I know. Sadly I don’t think all of the people giving them a lift are going to be kind enough to tweet about it.”

  “Probably not,” Claudia agreed. “Have a look, though, just in case. As I said earlier, for some unknown reason, these two aren’t exactly making an effort to melt into the background. We might get lucky.”

  “Will do. I’ll get on to some predictive mapping, see where they are likely to have gone in the time they’ve had. I’ll call you later.”

  The line went dead, and Claudia glanced at the map as she navigated. Hitchhiking wasn’t ideal. It took the pair off of the radar and made tracking them a lot more difficult. What she needed now was a destination. If she couldn’t track how they were travelling, then maybe she could arrive first.

  Tracking Amy and Kerry was proving confusing. The profiling wasn’t adding up. On one hand the suspects were very adept at evading capture. MI5 had provided information that stated the terrorist cell were proficient in operating unseen. And yet, the women seemed to be making mistakes, more than she would have expected. They were clearly being seen by the local communities. They’d made no effort to disguise themselves. It just didn’t seem to add up. Unless that was a part of the plan. Unless they were acting disorganised to throw off potential trails.

  “Oh, these two are good,” Claudia mumbled to herself. “I wonder who trained them.”

  “Carl Hendrick?”

  Carl turned around. He furrowed his brow as he watched Claudia walk across the car park towards him. He clearly didn’t recognise her and looked as though he was trying to place if he knew her.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Did you offer two hitchhikers a lift yesterday?”

  Claudia saw the nervous swal
low and already knew her answer.

  “No. Wrong guy.” He turned around to walk towards a delivery van, intent on ignoring her and avoiding the conversation.

  “So, you’re not Herby742?” she asked. “And you won’t mind if I tell your bosses that you weren’t sick last week, but in fact nursing an epic hangover.”

  He paused and slowly turned to look at her. “You don’t work for these guys then?” He jerked his thumb towards the large warehouse.

  “No,” Claudia answered. “I’m just interested in the hitchhikers.”

  “They in some kind of trouble?”

  She smirked at his almost-admission. “Where did you take them?”

  He bristled. “I didn’t say I saw them, I’m just asking a question. It’s against company policy to pick up passengers, so why would I do that?” He turned around and continued towards his van. “Tell my boss what you like.”

  Claudia realised she had pushed him a little too far with her smug attitude. “Mr Hendrick, if you have any information, I strongly suggest you tell me now.”

  He opened the driver’s door and hoisted himself up into the cab. He slammed the door shut and leaned out of the open window. “I don’t have anything to say. You’re on private property, so you better go before I call security.”

  She took a step away from the van and nodded her head. “Okay, thank you for your help, Mr Hendrick.”

  He slammed the van into gear. She winced at the screeching sound and watched as he drove out of the yard.

  Claudia cropped the most recent photograph taken on her phone to just include the number plate and the make and model of the van. She attached the photograph to an email and sent it to Mark. She put the device in her cup holder and activated the Bluetooth as she drove out of the car park.

  “Call Mark.”

  The phone only rang twice.

  “Is this the delivery driver’s van?” Mark asked.

  “Yes, can you run it through the ANPR and see if we can get a route? Any CCTV footage would be useful as well.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “No. I might have come on a bit strong,” she admitted.

  “Ruh-roh, didn’t you use your feminine charms?”

  “No, I wasn’t born with them. I mildly threatened him, didn’t work.”

  Mark laughed. “I’m in the ANPR system now, just going through the CCTV stills.”

  “Anything from our friends in London?”

  “No, word is they are getting a bit stressed with this one.”

  “I know the feeling.” Claudia rolled her shoulders gently.

  “Well, this may help. I have positive identification of them both in the vehicle with our friend Herby742.”

  “Hallelujah.”

  “Tracking the route now.”

  The sound of a mouse clicking occasionally filtered through the car speakers. Claudia remained quiet, knowing not to distract Mark while he was working. She pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked up. She pulled out the large paper map she kept in the car and unfolded it.

  She smothered a yawn and wearily ran her fingers through her hair. She wiggled in the seat. I need a real bed tonight, she mused.

  “Choppington,” Mark announced.

  Claudia glanced at the map. “Where’s that?”

  “Northumberland, east of Morpeth.”

  She ran her finger over the map and found the name.

  “I have a CCTV still of Herby leaving Choppington at four o’clock yesterday, and they are no longer in the van. I’m looking for CCTV in that location. Bear with me.”

  Claudia programmed the information into her satnav and headed off. “I get that they are hitchhiking,” Claudia said, “but there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason in their direction of travel. I mean, overall, they are travelling north. But it’s not distinctively north. They seem to be spending a hell of a lot of time not getting very far. Not that I’m complaining. They could be in the Outer Hebrides by now if they were trying.”

  “It does seem random,” Mark agreed. “Even if their choices are limited by being at the mercy of people willing to offer them a ride.”

  “I just can’t see them having connections in these random places.”

  “They ate at Simpson’s Tea Rooms on the high street,” Mark said.

  Claudia shook her head. “A tea room? Seriously?”

  “Do you think MI5 have this all wrong? These two are not acting like the biggest terrorist threat since 2005.”

  “Even MI5 can’t be this incompetent, Mark.” Claudia pursed her lips, deep in thought. She’d worked for MI5 for long enough to know that they could be. But it wouldn’t help them to second guess the source of their information now. It was safer to assume that Amy and Kerry were deploying some highly skilled evasion tactic that they had yet to identify.

  “There is one camera in Choppington, and it overlooks the tea room. They cross the road and wait at a bus stop for a while, but something happens, off camera, and they leave. They don’t return. I’m sending you the footage.”

  “I’ll look at it when I arrive. Have you got any idea what happened?”

  “I’m not sure, but Amy sees something and runs off. Kerry follows a few seconds later.”

  Claudia considered the news for a moment. “Well, at least they caused a commotion, will make them more memorable. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  “Okay, I’ll run mapping scenarios on how far they could have gotten from there by now, if they’ve left.”

  “Oh, I’m sure they’ve left. We’re a way behind them.” She smirked. “But we’re catching up.”

  16

  Briefing

  Andrew leaned his head back. He winced at the sound of his neck popping. The briefing room was slowly filling up with people. He listened to the shuffling of feet as the team tried to cram themselves into the small room. He lowered his head and looked at the assembled group. They were, allegedly, the best. Experts and world-renowned leaders in their fields. Digital forensics experts, criminal profilers, the best man-hunters on the planet. And they were being evaded by two girls.

  “Where are we?” He didn’t bother with pleasantries.

  “The trail has gone cold. We sent a ground team to Darlington following the CCTV footage that was discovered, but there was nothing there. We’re now working primarily on profiling,” Miranda explained. “If we can get inside their heads then we should be able to figure out their next step. Nothing is completely random, it’s just a matter of figuring out their patterns.”

  George Carlton, a senior inspector within the team, spoke next, “They’ve not accessed any of their bank accounts since the first day, but we’re continuing to monitor. We’re also monitoring all incoming calls to their friends and family members. If they use their mobile phone, or we see any new numbers crop up, we’ll triangulate to get a location.”

  Andrew placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Don’t tell me that we are simply waiting for them to make a mistake.”

  George exchanged a nervous glance with a few of his colleagues. “Not exactly, but it would help speed the process up. They are young women, both very close to their families. It’s only natural that they will be missing them by now, the urge to make a phone call will be very strong.”

  “We must have another line of enquiry,” Andrew asked. We bloody better have one.

  “We’re still looking into the data breach,” George said. “If we can figure out their network then we’ll have more to work on.”

  He shook his head. “Are we any further with analysing the stolen data?”

  “We have a theory,” George said. “As we discussed in the previous meeting, the stolen data doesn’t quite match up. There’s no common theme. There is payroll information from various offices in various locations, staff details, again with no clear correlation. Then there is diary information.” He flicked through some paperwork. “We believe that this is your typical data grab. Someone has gone in and taken d
ifferent bundles of information, with seemingly nothing in common, in order to create confusion and to mask their real intentions. We’re running simulations based upon the information we know was compromised and looking at various scenarios where that information could be used.”

  “Roughly how many scenarios are we currently looking at?” Andrew asked.

  George’s shoulders slumped. “Around sixty.”

  Andrew stared at George for a few moments before turning his attention to Louise. “Louise, any further online chatter that could help us?”

  “Nothing new. Following Amy and Kerry going to ground, everything has been very quiet. We’re trying to use our operatives to sniff for more information, but it’s proving very difficult and we don’t want to blow their cover.” Louise pulled a sheet of paper out of the stack she was holding. “The last thing we have is the date, nine days from now. We are tapping every resource we have, but until we know where to focus our efforts, we’re blind.”

  “We need find these girls, now.” Andrew stood up and paced the cramped space in front of the dark projector screen.

  “How is Claudia getting on?” Miranda asked.

  “She’s following leads of her own,” Andrew admitted.

  “And she’s not going to share that data with us?” Miranda raised an eyebrow.

  “We’re in a sensitive situation. We cannot share data with her, and she will not share data with us.” Andrew leaned on the back of his chair. “We have the best minds in the world in this room. I know we suspect that these girls are highly trained, but they should not be able to beat us. I want every single piece of information we have checked and double-checked. We cannot miss anything. Let’s not let Claudia beat us to the punch on this one, her gloating will never cease.”

  A ripple of laughter rolled through the room.

  “Right.” Andrew clapped his hands together. “Let’s get this case closed.”

  17

  Edinburgh