“I wish it were possible, but our operation is sensitive, and sadly, classified.”
“Aye... that’s what the Chief Super tells me. Still, does make us a little agitated. Is my city under attack? Is it terrorists? Is there any immediate danger to me or my people?”
Emily laid a hand gently on the policeman’s arm and smiled. “You’ve nothing to be worried about. Not today. We’re here purely on a reconnaissance mission.”
The Detective Inspector looked deeply into Emily’s eyes. “I somewhat doubt that,” he said.
DI Bremner pulled into a gap between a couple of buses towards the east end of Princes Street. It was on the opposite side of the road to Waverley Mall Shopping Centre, and within what Ryan would have said ‘spitting distance’ of their target; they could see the entrance to the building, its wave-shaped overhang a beacon to the steps that led down into the retail complex.
Brayden, Special Agent Mullins and Liam travelled with the field agents to a location a few roads away, where they sat conspicuously waiting in the backs of their vehicles for their next orders.
Glancing out of the window to her left, Sophie watched a stream of pedestrians walk along the pavement, some heading towards bus stops lining the road, or venturing to the shops running parallel with them, of which there were plenty to choose from.
“We’ll be monitoring CCTV surveillance and listening in,” said Emily sitting in the back of the car alongside Sophie. The passenger seat next to the senior police officer driving was vacant. “Any sign of trouble, or if you request it, I’ll order our units in. We won’t be far.”
“Okay,” replied Sophie, attaching the tiny microphone discretely to the collar of her utility-blue French Connection Drummer hood coat. “I’d feel better if I had a gun,” she added.
DI Bremner raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was being serious. The look in her eyes seen from the rear-view mirror informed him that she was which made him shudder. The young woman was no older than his daughter Alice; she was still at university and barely knew how to operate an electric kettle.
“You and I both know that you don’t need it,” Emily assured her, taking her hand with one and patting it with the other.
Without another word, Sophie reached for the door release and exited the Audi, stepping onto the raised paving. Before leaving, she turned back and peered into the car. “Make sure you ARE watching my back. Meredith and the boys are depending on me,” she said, slamming the car door a little too hard.
Sophie stepped around the rear of the vehicle and jogged across four lanes of traffic despite there being a pedestrian crossing a little way up the road. She joined a throng of tourists brandishing maps coming from the Scott Memorial, seen behind her, and integrated amongst them as they crossed Waverley Bridge.
Behind Sophie, the Audi S3 Sedan indicated, and then pulled out from between the two buses, merging into the stream of traffic. Emily watched the blonde haired woman bound down the steps into the shopping centre and disappear just as DI Bremner drove past.
Dominic was sitting in a corner of the very busy food hall, set in the lower level of Waverley Mall Shopping Centre nearest to KFC, but not far from McDonalds, Spudulike or the escalator. At first, Sophie was not sure it was him. The last time she had seen the man he had a wider girth, long black hair and jowls.
Now, he was back to how she remembered him from their first encounter; she had seen him from a distance meeting with her father, sitting on a park bench in Chelsea Embankment Gardens reading a newspaper, trying to be obscure. Lean, short-haired and dressed smartly in a dark-grey suit and an open-collar shirt, he could easily pass as a bank manager out on his lunch break.
“I was starting to wonder if you were coming.” Dominic stood up from his chair enthusiastically. “Please, take a seat. Thanks for coming...”
“Hardly gave me a choice,” she replied frostily.
Dominic ignored the comment. “Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee? Coca Cola? Maybe something to eat? A Zinger burger, p’rhaps?” he offered pleasantly, like they were best buddies.
Sophie’s stomach informed her that she was hungry but she didn’t want to gratify the man. She chose to ignore it. “I’m good, thanks,” Sophie replied, taking a seat opposite Dominic. She crossed her arms purposefully.
“You won’t mind if I get a refill.” Dominic indicated his large paper/wax Pepsi cup, a red and white striped straw poking out of its lid.
“Knock yourself out.”
Casually, Dominic stepped away from the table and drifted through a crowd of young people towards the KFC serving counter, joining a small queue that didn’t move very quickly.
Sophie sighed and groaned inwardly.
Five minutes later Dominic returned with his refill and a BBQ wrap. “Excuse me... I have this really fast metabolism, which means I need to eat something nearly every hour. Otherwise I get a bit cranky.”
“I assume you’ve not kidnapped my brothers and sister to bring me to Edinburgh on a cheap, no-thrills date?”
“Don’t you like my choice of restaurant?” Dominic feigned disappointment before breaking out into a big grin. “You’re very perceptive,” he replied, biting a large mouthful of his chicken snack, filling his cheeks.
“So, what now do you want from me? Isn’t it enough you killed my mother already?”
Dominic finished his mouthful, licking his lips clean before answering. “Feels a bit like déjà vu, doesn’t this?” he didn’t wait for a response. “I’ll come straight to the point. I’m calling in your debt.”
“Debt?” Sophie looked baffled.
“Come come, dear girl. Don’t tell me you have forgotten already, though you could be forgiven, knowing what you’ve gone through?” Dominic held the wrap in one hand and was waving it about as he gesticulated without thinking.
Sophie made no attempt at trying to decipher what the man was talking about. He looked slightly mad. Instead she sat resolutely opposite him, hoping her looking stupid would rattle him, her arms remained crossed in front of her.
“The diamond... duh!”
Sophie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Haven’t we done this caper before, or am I missing something?”
“Not exactly, no. You see the way I figure, the first time you failed; I didn’t get my diamond. Maybe the incentive wasn’t adequate... or big enough.”
“You killed my mother!” Sophie blasted, anger bubbling where the hunger had minutes earlier. A lot of people were looking at her from around the food hall.
“AND... I’ll kill your brothers and sister too if you don’t pipe down.” Dominic took a sip of Pepsi, giving Sophie a moment to calm herself. “Listen to what it is I want you to do.”
Sophie glared at Dominic for too long a moment, fidgeting on her seat. Uncrossing her arms, she opened up. She knew she had no choice. “Okay. Talk.”
Dominic picked up his cup of Pepsi again and sucked deeply on the straw, concluding the action with an exaggerated gasp. He looked like he was enjoying the encounter. “The Whisper of Persia,” he started. “It’s on loan to the Queen’s Gallery at Holyrood Palace. I want you to recover it for me.”
“Always that diamond. What is it with that stone?”
“Call it... sentimentality,” Dominic said quietly. He ate another chunk from his chicken wrap and chewed with his mouth open.
Sophie turned away so not to watch the man masticating his food. “Why don’t you use the boys that you stole from us? I see you’ve trained them to use their abilities... the spate of robberies taking place up here in Scotland the other day...”
“Stole? They were hardly yours in the first place. Anyway, I could,” Dominic replied, still chewing, all but admitting that he was responsible for the £200 million worth of treasures stolen on New Year’s Eve, “but this is personal,” he continued. He swal
lowed. “It needs someone experienced. Plus, the two − you AND the diamond − are somewhat intertwined. You had the diamond in your grasp, and then chose to return it. It’s only fitting that you retrieve it for me.”
“What if I refuse?”
“Does having all those abilities affect your memory, Sophie? I have your brothers and sister. Do you think I wouldn’t hurt them?”
Sophie tensed up. Through gritted teeth she said, petulantly: “Okay!”
“Good. Glad we have an understanding.”
“What about the ‘sweetener’ your friend mentioned on the phone? She said you’ll let me have one of the children back... if I came. Well, I’m here... when do you live up to your piece of the bargain?”
Dominic smiled. “Here.” He put the half-eaten chicken snack down and reached into his jacket pocket, removing his phone. With a couple of swipes and a stab or two of a finger, an image appeared on the screen. “So you know what you are working for.”
The photograph was of Meredith, bound up, gagged, and lying in the back of what appeared to be a van. The girl had a large purplish bruise to the right side of her face, like she had recently been hit, and hit hard.
“You bastard!” Sophie flared. The urge to launch herself at him only just kept in check. She balled her fists at her side, rage threatening to overcome her levelheadedness. Diners in the hall once again directed curious looks her way.
“I know... and believe me, I’ve been called worse,” Dominic grinned for a long moment before allowing it to subside. “Do what I want and you get her back.” He reached for his Pepsi and sipped it through the straw again. “That is, of course, after I get my diamond.”
“And what about my brothers?”
“I was told never to place all my apples in the same cart. Simply, they’re my insurance against any waggishness you, or MI6, contemplate. Once the diamond and I are safe, they’ll be returned... unharmed... eventually.”
“You’ll return them immediately!”
Dominic smiled confidently. He had all the cards. “Don’t worry, princess. You’ll get them back... you have my word.”
“How can I believe you? After what you’ve done?”
Dominic shrugged. “What choice do you have? Here,” Dominic placed the guide book to the Queen’s Gallery on the table in front of Sophie, “all you need to know about the diamond.” The thin publication had been hidden on the chair next to him. “I’ll give you...” he raised his watch-arm theatrically, gazing studiously at the timepiece, “... four hours. P’rhaps a little more. Call me using the number from the photo once you’ve done. I’ll tell you when and where we’ll meet up for the exchange. The diamond... for the girl; and NO funny business... I’ll be watching.” He swept up the remainder of his chicken wrap, peeled down a bit of the outer wrapper and took another bite. “Are you in?”
Without a word, Sophie snatched up the visitor’s guide and sprung up irritably from the chair.
“A pleasure doing business with you,” called out Dominic towards Sophie’s back.
Disregarding the comment, Sophie stamped off like a sulky kid being forced into tidying her room. At the edge of the food hall she stopped, looked back over her shoulder and studied the man. He was eating the remnants of his BBQ wrap and looked pleased with himself. Bitterness burned inside her chest, followed by pure hatred. Forcing herself to turn away before she was compelled to react, she stepped out of the busy dining room and followed a stream of visitors as they exited up the flight of steps.
Chapter Forty-One
Brayden
Whilst the field team − comprising of four FBI/CIA agents and four MI6 operatives − sat in unmarked police cars a couple of streets away from Waverley Mall Shopping Centre, action-ready and waiting their next commands, Brayden, Mullins and Emily stood around a bank of video screens in a small room deep within the police station on Gayfield Square, a ten minute walk away. Street cameras had been manipulated to watch Sophie’s every move, first from outside the shopping centre, then from within, internal surveillance cameras capturing the young woman’s purposeful movements. With full control of the entire city’s CCTV network, the three intelligence agents couldn’t help but watch nervously.
On entering the food hall, Brayden teased the closest camera to zoom in on Sophie; the young woman’s face momentarily filling the screen. Stating the obvious the CIA man said: “I see her.”
“She’s walking with purpose... I think Sophie has an eye on Dominic.” Emily was pointing at the screen towards the direction Sophie was heading. She drew a line on the screen of her likely course. “Can we get a look... over there?”
“One moment.” Brayden tapped a few buttons on the keyboard in front of him and the image from the video feed promptly changed. “There!”
“Got him.”
Dominic Schilling was sitting at a table on his own. Observing Sophie’s arrival, he seemed to stiffen, then visibly relax, his shoulders dropping. He spoke a few words and Sophie appeared to respond. She then sat down opposite him.
“Is the hidden mic not working?” asked Christina Mullins, leaning over Brayden’s shoulder.
“Oh damn, hold on.” Emily tinkered with a handheld communications device, flicking one of the switches and fiddling with a dial. Ten seconds later and Sophie’s voice filled the room: “I’m good, thanks.”
“You won’t mind if I get a refill,” Dominic said cheerily.
“Knock yourself out,” Sophie replied.
He stood up from the table and crossed the food hall to join a queue at a KFC serving counter.
Five minutes of watching Sophie twiddling her fingers and making ‘tutting’ sounds over the airwaves drew heavy sighing and sounds of exasperation from both Brayden and Mullins. When Dominic returned with his ‘refill’ and something that looked like a long, thin sandwich, the two agents and Emily were almost caught napping.
“Excuse me... I have this really fast metabolism, which means I need to eat something nearly every hour. Otherwise I get a bit cranky.” Dominic’s voice made them jump.
“I assume you’ve not kidnapped my brothers and sister to bring me to Edinburgh on a cheap, no-thrills date?” said Sophie.
“Don’t you like my choice of restaurant?” Dominic started to laugh. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re very perceptive.”
“So, what now do you want from me? Isn’t it enough you killed my mother already?” asked Sophie.
“Feels a bit like déjà vu, doesn’t it? I’ll come straight to the point. I’m calling in your debt.”
Brayden’s mobile phone started to chime and vibrate on the table in front of him. He quickly snatched it up and checked the caller ID. “It’s Mac,” he breathed, trying not to interrupt or talk over the wire-tapped exchanges. “I’d better take this.” He stood up and left Mullins and Emily to continue listening in on Sophie and Dominic’s engagement.
Closing the door gently behind him, Brayden answered the phone abruptly: “Yea.”
“Hi Brayden, how’s it going?”
“Do you Brits feel the need to start every conversation with light-hearted chit-chat?”
“I dunno... I guess,” muttered Mac, hastily moving on. “Listen, we’ve been alerted to something, could be relevant; might be bogus. Traffic police spotted a van matching the description of the one used by the kidnappers on New Year’s Eve; a grey Ford Tourneo. They ran the plates and the same phony registration details came up.”
“Where’s it now?”
“The police unit is following from a safe distance on the A84 and are waiting for advisement on how to proceed.”
“Do we have access to overhead satellite imagery?” asked Brayden, unaware that he was casually walking along the corridor of the police station towards the building’s emergency exit.
“I checked
, but no satellites are due over the area for at least a couple of hours. As a result, I took the liberty of commandeering an MQ-9 Reaper to track and observe.” An MQ-9 Reaper was an unmanned aerial vehicle, more commonly known as a ‘drone’, and was one of a dozen the RAF used for covert operations. As well as providing high-altitude surveillance, the remote-piloted aircraft had military capabilities, often armed with air-to-ground missiles.
“Are you getting pictures yet?”
“Soon – the UAV is not yet in range, but should be... in about ten minutes. The traffic cops wanted to know whether they should intercept. I said no and told them to remain in pursuit without making themselves known; we don’t want them rattled.”
“Yea, we don’t want traffic cops flubbing it,” agreed Brayden. “When the Reaper begins broadcasting images, have them sent over to us. I want to know where that van is heading, and Mac?”
“Yea?”
“Good work.”
“Thanks... before you go, that wasn’t the only reason for my call. We’re getting reports of some strange goings-on back here, in and around London.”
“Go on,” implored Brayden, slightly agitated; he wanted to return to the surveillance room and listen to more of Sophie and Dominic’s chat.
“Daylight robberies,” replied Mac eagerly. “Of the New Year’s Eve Scotland type and not the supermarket over-pricing variety.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, only as much as I can relay. The Metropolitan Police are currently responding to a number of burglaries, robberies, thefts, muggings and heists... and they all have one thing in common...”
“Let me guess. The thieves appear to be ghosts?” Now at the exit door, Brayden turned and started slowly walking back.
“Bingo! Uncanny, right?”
The Whisper of Persia (The Girl in the Mirror Book 3) Page 30