by Matthew Dunn
Will’s mind was racing. “But something’s wrong with this.”
Ellie nodded. “I agree.”
“Herald told you about a high-ranking Russian mole . . .”
“In the Agency.”
An individual who would surely know that Project Ferryman was key to eliminating Cobalt, and would have relayed that to Antaeus, who in turn would instantly know that someone very close to him was giving the Americans all of Antaeus’s secrets.
“What’s Antaeus’s game?” Will whispered to himself.
“I keep asking myself that. Why hasn’t he killed Ferryman? It wouldn’t take Antaeus long to establish which member of his SVR team was the traitor working for us.”
Will was deep in thought as he asked, “Do you have anything else for me?”
“Before I read the Ferryman files, I found out who’s leading the manhunt for you on U.S. soil. Agent Marsha Gage, FBI. She’s top of the league, is as honest as they come, and doesn’t have any allegiance to the CIA.” She held out a slip of paper. “That’s her home address.”
“Excellent.” Will had reasoned that the Bureau could be useful once he’d discovered the truth about Ferryman. But he needed the Bureau to be proactively chasing him on U.S. soil, so that he could learn the identity of the person heading the FBI manhunt and make a decision as to whether that person could be trusted. That was why he’d deliberately shown himself at the Canadian border. Plus he wanted to unsettle the Russian spy in the CIA so that the mole would make a mistake and expose himself. Having Agent Gage’s home address was invaluable.
Will knew they’d spent too long in one place and needed to separate. “I presume the CIA officer who was posted with his wife to Prague in 2005 and recruited Ferryman was Charles Sheridan.”
Ellie shook her head. “It was Ed Parker.”
“Parker?”
“He was there with his wife Catherine. Ed first met Shonin at a U.S. embassy cocktail function.”
Will hadn’t expected that.
Not at all.
“Did you find out where Ed Parker lives?”
Ellie handed Will a second slip of paper. “As you requested in Norway, I got the addresses of the major Project Ferryman personnel—Parker, Charles Sheridan, and Senator Jellicoe. Also, this is for an apartment I rented for you in D.C.” She handed him a key and gave him the address. “I’ve stored the things you asked for there.”
“Excellent. I got a new cell phone.” As he gave her the number, Ellie programmed it into the cell phone that only Will knew about. “Call me if you need my help. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to get to you.” He smiled as he nodded toward the exit. “I’ve got a fair few distractions going on.”
Ellie placed the tips of her fingers against his hand. “Why did you disobey orders in Norway?”
Will looked at her fingers. “I felt . . . it was the right thing to do.” He pulled out the jewelry box that Ellie had secreted in Chinatown. “Thought you might like this back.”
Ellie frowned as she took it from him. She resisted the urge to shed a tear when she saw that inside was a new gold necklace. It was very similar to the one her father had given her and she’d subsequently lost. “Why . . . ?”
“Why not?”
Ellie smiled. “Why not indeed.”
He stood. “Are you going to be okay?”
Ellie shrugged. “The Agency trained me too well. If I can get out of D.C., they’ll never find me.”
From the bottom of his heart, Will said, “I will never forget what you’ve done for me.”
Ellie smiled. “Didn’t just do it for you. Did it for the good ol’ U.S. of A.”
Will took her hand and held it. “I hope we meet again.”
“You do?”
Will nodded. “I’d like that.” He meant every word. Ellie was unlike any woman he’d met before, and he realized now that his feelings for her went way beyond professional admiration.
As she looked at him, Ellie now understood why her cool persona was rattled when she thought about Will. She was attracted to him, plain and simple, and her feelings were intensified by the circumstances and what they were doing. “I’ll let you in on a secret: I’ve always loved sunshine, particularly Mexican sunshine.”
“Mexico’s a big country to find a person who’s in hiding.”
“Not if the person looking is someone with your skill set.” She winked at him.
Just like she’d done in Norway while armed men were waiting to kill her.
“Providing I’m not in jail or dead,” Will said, grinning, “consider it a date.” He turned to leave, but looked back at her as a thought entered his head. “Was there any description of Gregori Shonin in the Ferryman files?”
Ellie shook her head while placing her hand inside her handbag. “No, but I was a bit of a naughty girl. I stole something I shouldn’t have from the archives: Shonin’s photo, taken without him knowing, in the early days after his recruitment.” She handed the photo to Will.
His heart was pounding as he looked at the image. “I’m the only person in Western intelligence who knows what Antaeus’s face looks like,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons why I was deployed to Moscow to kill him three years ago.” He held the photo out to Ellie. “This isn’t just a case of not understanding why Antaeus hasn’t identified Ferryman and killed him. It’s far worse than that. Gregori Shonin doesn’t exist. Because the man in this photo is Antaeus.”
“Antaeus?!” Ellie’s mind was racing. “But surely Ed Parker would have realized that Antaeus and Ferryman were one and the same, when he met Ferryman after your bomb injured Antaeus, and saw that he was disfigured?”
Will agreed, and said, “I think I know what this is all about. In 2005, Parker didn’t recruit a man he allegedly believed to be Gregori Shonin. Instead, Antaeus recruited Parker, who knew from the outset who he was dealing with. And that means Herald was right when he told you in Norway that there was a Russian spy at the Agency’s top table.” He looked away toward the exit while feeling overwhelming anger. “Ed Parker is being run by Antaeus, who’s using him to feed us information that will lead to the death of Cobalt. Ed Parker is the mole. And his code name is Ferryman.”
“The Russians hate terrorists like Cobalt just as much as we do,” Ellie said. “Maybe he’s using us because he knows that we’re the only ones who can kill Cobalt.”
“Maybe.” Will was frowning. “But Antaeus wouldn’t run an operation this elaborate and dangerous to help America. His career has been built around his primary objective to cripple the States.” A thought suddenly entered his head, and his eyes widened.
“Will?”
Will was silent.
“What is it?”
Will shook his head in disbelief as he muttered to himself, “Clever, clever Antaeus.”
“I don’t understand.”
Will looked directly at Ellie. “If I’m right about what’s really going on, when the United States of America drops its bomb on Cobalt, what will follow will be nothing short of a disaster.”
THIRTY-ONE
The Washington Marriott Wardman Park hotel lobby was buzzing with suited delegates who were attending an advertising conference. Ellie was glad the place was so busy; it meant she could get her things from her room, check out, and leave the place without being noticed.
Then she’d head to Mexico and wait for Will to find her.
She smiled as she walked along the sixth-floor corridor, swiped her key card through her room’s lock, and entered the room.
She switched on the light and froze.
A man was sitting in the armchair, staring at her with a smile on his face.
She was about to run, but someone else behind her thrust a thick plastic bag over her head, pulled the bag’s drawstrings tight around her throat, and locked her arms in a viselike grip.
She tried to gasp for oxygen inside the airtight bag. She thrashed her legs, but whoever was holding her was too strong and knew exactly what he was doing.
Something else was in the bag.
Cotton wool swabs.
They gave off a toxic odor.
One that made her light-headed.
Of course: a chemical compound that renders humans unconscious when inhaled.
Her legs felt incredibly heavy.
As she lost consciousness, her last thought was that thank goodness she’d met Will when she did.
Augustus looked at Elijah and grinned. “She’s out for the count.” Like his twin brother, he was wearing a smart suit and had his straight, shoulder-length black hair tied in a ponytail. Anyone looking at them as they’d entered the hotel earlier would no doubt have surmised that they were arty ad exec types.
Elijah got out of the seat and helped Augustus lift Ellie into a straight-backed desk chair and tie her to it with a rope. Then Augustus pulled out a military knife.
At 7:10 P.M., Ed Parker opened his refrigerator door with the intention of pouring himself a large glass of Chablis, but stopped when Catherine came rushing into the room, a look of deep concern on her face.
“Ed, there’s four men at the door. They’re FBI.”
“FBI?” Ed’s heart started racing.
“They’ve asked to speak to you. Said it was serious.” She gripped his arm.
Ed’s thoughts were in turmoil.
Because when Feds turned up at a spook’s home and said they wanted to speak about something serious, it usually had one outcome.
Arrest.
And a life sentence in a maximum-security prison.
“Jesus.” Ed’s mind was racing.
Catherine frowned. “Have you done something wrong?”
Ed couldn’t answer.
“Is this about Project Ferryman?”
Ed rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know, can’t be sure, I . . .”
Catherine gripped him harder. “Ferryman is an Agency matter; the Bureau has no jurisdiction over it, and therefore no jurisdiction over your involvement. You’ve done nothing wrong and don’t need to tell them anything. Hold firm to that fact.”
She released her grip.
Ed nodded, inhaling deeply. He wished Catherine was right, but knew that the Bureau could stick its nose wherever it liked if it got the faintest whiff of treachery or corruption or worse. He grabbed a dish towel, used it to mop the sweat off his face, and allowed Catherine to tighten the knot on his tie and use her fingers to straighten his hair. “Where’s Crystal?”
“In her room, doing her homework.”
“Don’t let her come downstairs,” he said. He walked to the front door. The four men were all wearing blue FBI Windbreakers and baseball caps.
One of them said, “Mr. Parker?”
Ed nodded, his heart in his throat and his stomach in knots.
“We’ve been sent to speak to you.” He showed him his ID. “Seems you’ve been involved in something that’s going to get you in trouble.”
Ed tried to decide what to say. With no forethought, he blurted, “Trouble is, I don’t know what the trouble is.”
The agents laughed.
Probably to put him at ease and display the bizarre camaraderie that can sometimes be on show between an arresting officer and the perp he wants to put cuffs on.
“We won’t hold that against you.” The agent pointed at a black sedan that was parked across the street.
No doubt it was a Bureau car, the one they were going to take him away in.
The FBI officer said, “You’re going to see that day and night. Two of us will be in it at all times. We’ll work in twelve-hour shifts.” The agent smiled. “It’s just a precaution, but apparently you and a handful of other Agency folk need to be protected while Will Cochrane’s still loose. We’ll be following you to and from work, and when you’re home we’ll be sitting in our car outside, drinking coffee and watching over you. All we ask in return is that you stick to speed limits when driving and call us if you see anything suspicious.”
“Suspicious?”
“A man coming to kill you.”
Ed didn’t know if he felt total relief or abject fear. “Sure, sure. You want me to alert Agency security that you’ll be parked outside Langley while I’m at work?”
“That’s already taken care of.”
Ed glanced back toward his house. “Should we temporarily move someplace else? How serious is this threat?”
The agent patted his jacket. “Mr. Parker, we got enough armaments on us and in our vehicle to take down a gang of professional bank robbers, let alone a single guy. Plus, we got direct lines to D.C. SWAT and their helos. You’re going to be fine. Unless you need us, pretend we’re not here.” He nodded toward the interior of Ed’s home. “And please tell Mrs. Parker that we apologize if our presence at your home made her worry.”
“Seems to me that we’re in good hands.” Ed checked his watch. “I got to make some calls, and”—he smiled—“pour myself a large drink.”
Lindsay Sheridan poured brandy into two glasses and placed them on a side table between her husband and Senator Jellicoe, in front of the sumptuous living room’s roaring fire. “Is there anything else that you need from me, Charles?”
Charles Sheridan glanced at her with an expression of contempt. “No. Just don’t disturb us, okay? And if I hear that damn kitchen TV from in here, I’ll smash it on the floor.”
Lindsay smiled at Jellicoe to hide her embarrassment at Charles’s comment and to put the senator at ease. Not that Jellicoe seemed to care one hoot. He seemed as irritated with Lindsay’s presence in the room as her husband was.
She said timidly, “I’ll stay out of your way,” and left the room while wishing she had the courage to lock its door behind her and set fire to the place.
Sheridan swirled his brandy. “My boys have got Hallowes.”
Jellicoe smiled. “Good.”
“You sure I have your unconditional backing to do this?”
Jellicoe placed a chubby finger into his liquor and sucked on it like a child with a Popsicle. He glanced toward the window. Outside were two vehicles containing their newly acquired FBI protection detail. “So long as you keep matters discreet, I don’t care what you have to do to her to make her talk.”
Antaeus was sitting in his study making the final amendments to his thesis on Stone Age settlements in western Russia. He was extremely pleased with the way he’d pulled his research together to form a document that would poleax Russian archaeological societies’ received wisdom that people back then were solely nomadic. But he had two other reasons for feeling happy.
Parker had just told him that Sheridan’s men had captured Hallowes and would use her to flush out Cochrane.
In return, Antaeus had told Parker that he’d just learned that Cobalt would be attending the meeting with the Taliban at noon the day after tomorrow. He’d given the CIA agent the precise location in Afghanistan, and Parker had told him America would now spring into action and ensure that everyone at the meeting was killed.
He couldn’t predict whether total war and genocide would follow the air strike. But he did know one thing for certain.
The United States of America would have its head separated from its body.
The two men were sitting in front of Ellie with grins on their faces. After she fully regained consciousness, she wanted to tell them that if they wanted to kill her they should get it over with. But she couldn’t speak, because a leather strap was tightly wrapped around her mouth and her head, in place to secure the sock that was screwed into a ball inside her mouth in order to prevent anyone standing outside her hotel room from hearing her screams.
Though her heart was pounding, Ellie refused to let fear take hold.
The men were obviously twins, and she estimated they were in their fifties. They were quite small, and if she’d seen them anywhere else but here and under different circumstances she would have assessed that they looked a bit unconventional, but otherwise perfectly harmless.
With two exceptions.
&n
bsp; Their eyes were glistening, agitated, and excited.
And their smiles were just plain wrong.
They were the smiles you see on sadists, rapists, and mad-dog killers.
Both of them were holding big military knives that looked razor sharp; their jet-black hair was now out of ponytails and hung straight down to their shoulders.
“My name’s Augustus.” The twin nodded toward his brother. “And this is Elijah. We’d tell you not to be scared, but that would be a dumb thing to say given your predicament.” He laughed, then his expression changed. “We take the sock out when we need you to speak. We put it back in when we want a bit of peace and quiet. You get that?”
Ellie nodded.
“At any point, if you call for help or make any kind of noise to attract anyone, punishment will be instant and severe. You get that as well?”
Ellie tried to speak, but all she could emit was a barely audible muffled sound.
“Get it?”
Ellie nodded quickly.
“That’s my pretty little gal.”
Elijah moved to her side; his smell reminded her of a dirty zoo.
Augustus tapped the tip of his knife over Ellie’s two cell phones, which were lying on the bed by his side. “We think you’ve got a way to get in touch with Cochrane, and that way is inside one of these two phones.” He nodded at Elijah, who undid the strap and pulled out the sock. “Which phone is it?”
When she spoke, drool ran down her chin. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Augustus smiled and said, while tapping his blade over each phone in quick succession, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.” He stared at Ellie.
She said nothing.
Elijah shoved the sock ball back into Ellie’s mouth as Augustus chanted, “Catch a tiger by the toe.”
Elijah whipped Ellie’s right shoe off her foot and used his knife to slice off her big toe.
Ellie’s back arched as agony seared from her foot to her central nervous system. The ropes kept her fixed to the chair, which Elijah was now gripping with tensile steel strength. Her head was shaking wildly as unbelievable pain made her retch.