‘My apologies. You can call me...’ the agent glanced at the barge drifting away from them, ‘Robert.’
Louisa snorted. ‘Do I get a made up surname as well?’
‘Cruise. Robert Cruise. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’
‘A different name for everyone you handle, is that it?’ She shook her head. ‘It’s a wonder you spooks remember who you are day to day.’
‘I’ve never had a problem keeping track. And besides, if I hear a little bird’s been chirping away about some nasty SIS man called Robert Cruise, I’ll know who’s responsible.’
Louisa decided to get to the point. ‘If you want something from me, I’m all ears.’
‘That’s better.’ Cruise wagged a finger at her. ‘We’re in this together. A symbiotic relationship.’
She noticed now that Cruise nursed a manilla folder in his lap. He offered it to her. She almost laughed out loud at the cliché. She was surprised it didn’t have “Top Secret” stencilled across the front in red. ‘What’s with the cloak and dagger?’ she asked.
‘I can’t share it with you on Portal,’ Cruise said. ‘Your network access is gone.’
Louisa checked. He was right. Her access was gone. Severed.
Just like at the hospital.
Louisa jumped to her feet, then retreated a step. ‘What did you do to him?’
Cruise scowled. ‘Do to who?’
A tremor entered her voice. ‘Simon. Was it you he was talking to before he jumped?’
‘Carlyle?’ Cruise gave her a scathing look. ‘Of course not. I’ve simply guaranteed us privacy while we talk.’
‘I don’t believe you. He’s been a thorn in your side since he took over as CEO.’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic. Now sit down.’ Louisa didn’t move. ‘I said, sit down.’ This time she didn’t refuse. ‘You’ve been watching too many screencast dramas.’ All trace of his displeasure had vanished. ‘We don’t kill our assets.’
‘You’re lying. Simon didn’t work for you. He despised everything you stood for.’
‘Carlyle started working for us the moment he killed Shepherd. He just didn’t realise it yet. The debt would have been called in sooner or later.’
‘The Portal network failed moments before he jumped. Are you telling me it was a coincidence?’
‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’ Cruise hesitated. ‘But I also don’t know if Carlyle’s death was anything other than suicide.’
She knew better than to take his word at face value. The agent probably lied a dozen times before breakfast. She unwound the folder’s red string tie and pulled out its contents, a few sheets of A4 hard copy. She recognised the man’s photo on the first page. ‘Why am I looking at a personnel file for Spencer Harrow?’
‘Harrow was one of ours. On loan from GCHQ to be exact.’
Her mind reeled. Simon was right. MI6 had Red Flagged Harrow because he worked for them. MI6 was behind it all: the deal with Fletcher and Worrell, the Portal bombing, everything. ‘Tell me where Ben Kingston is,’ Louisa demanded.
‘Why the hell would you think I know where he is?’
Do these spooks ever give a straight answer? ‘Because Harrow is running the clan, and Ben’s with him.’
‘You need to listen more carefully. I said Harrow was one of ours. He went AWOL as soon as Carlyle sacked him. Then all of a sudden he started running around London causing mayhem with his gang of crazies.’
Louisa glared at Cruise. Was he manipulating her? Trying to keep her off balance? She flicked past the first page in the file, which appeared to be nothing more than a list of Harrow’s physical attributes. The next contained a medical report. After a few lines she realised it was a psychologist’s clinical assessment. Harrow had been taking a number of different drugs. One in particular caught Louisa’s eye. Chlorpromazine. She’d come across it before, from a case, back when she was still assigned to SCD1.
Police officers had called to the house of Gina and Noel Chambers to investigate reports of a domestic. When the doorbell went unanswered the constables peered through a chink in the living room curtains and saw Gina and Noel lying on the living room floor. They’d both been stabbed to death. Their son, Denis, was found upstairs in his bedroom, playing a game on Portal. Louisa’s Murder Investigation Team got assigned the case. When she questioned Denis he admitted killing the man and woman in his living room. He maintained they weren’t his parents and insisted they were body doubles left behind after his real parents were abducted. When the doubles tried to take Denis too, he’d killed them. Unbeknownst to Denis’ parents he’d stopped taking his Chlorpromazine several weeks previously. At Denis’ trial his defence barrister made pains to convey to the jury that schizophrenia didn’t automatically imply the accused was dangerous. The majority of schizophrenics were completely harmless. That had stuck with Louisa too. In the MET you were forever dealing with the fringes of humanity. The exceptions to the rule. Still, with Harrow she had to assume the worst.
‘It says here he suffered from insomnia and paracusia,’ Louisa said. ‘Are you seriously telling me GCHQ hired a sleep deprived schizophrenic who heard voices?’
‘Obviously GCHQ isn’t in the business of taking on mentally unbalanced individuals. He had regular blood screens and psych evaluations during his time there. His illness was under control.’
Gina and Noel Chambers probably thought the same about their son. ‘There’s nothing else in here.’ Louisa had reached the end of the file. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me his work at GCHQ is classified?’
‘On the contrary. He worked on a continuation of his university thesis, so I’ve been cleared to provide you with an overview. Have you heard of the term emergence?’
Louisa shook her head.
‘Harrow’s PHD attempted to identify entities arising spontaneously within large artificial structures, namely large-scale computer networks. He continued this research when GCHQ placed him under cover with Portal.’
‘I’m not sure I follow. What entities was he trying to find?’
‘Signs of artificial intelligence. Apparently the only reason he joined GCHQ was so he could gain access to Portal’s network. We lost track of him when he left Portal, although we knew from Multiverse he’d joined one of their clans. Then he reappeared during your SCD7 operation at Tilbury docks.’
‘You haven’t been able to track down Harrow? With all the resources at your disposal?’
‘Harrow is a networks expert, Inspector. He knows how to hide from us and stay hidden. One of his acolytes, Killian Baker, triggered a selector we placed within Multiverse. He was communicating with Stephen Worrell. We set the NCA to monitoring Worrell, hoping we could use him to get to Baker and Harrow.’
‘Does Drew Carter know about Harrow?’
‘The NCA know as much as we allow them to, which isn’t a lot. Carter’s in the dark about Harrow and his connection to GCHQ.’
‘Then why did the NCA try to use Worrell to expose the clan?’
Cruise scowled. ‘Carter was showing initiative. He decided charging Worrell wasn’t good enough.’
‘Perhaps if you were up front with Drew in the first place Worrell would still be alive.’
‘Huh,’ Cruise grunted. ‘More disclosure, less secrecy. It sounds like a winning plan. I’ll make sure to distribute your new intelligence strategy around the agency.’
Something else the agent said had jumped out at her. ‘Why did you refer to Killian Baker as an acolyte?’
‘Because that’s what he was. Harrow’s gone and created his own little group of religious fanatics, with himself ensconced as the grand high loony. He appears bent on destroying Portal. Who knows why? Perhaps the voices in his head tell him to. However, even we didn’t predict the Portal bombing. Who knew Harrow had it in him?’
‘You sound impressed.’
Cruise shrugged. ‘A handler with the ability to inspire so much loyalty in his recruits? We could have found a much better us
e for his talents.’
Louisa handed the file back to Cruise. ‘I don’t see what you expect me to do. The NCA has taken charge. I’ve been told to stay clear.’
‘Not any more. Carter’s boss is being updated as we speak. You’re the MET’s new NCA Liaison.’
‘The MET doesn’t have a liaison within the NCA.’
‘They do now.’
She was being assigned to the NCA? What for? To keep tabs on the investigation for MI6? If MI6 had influence over the NCA why did they need her help? She was beginning to think the NCA’s internal politics were even more convoluted than the MET’s.
‘Okay,’ Louisa said, ‘but if I agree, I need something in return. Ben Kingston. I want a guarantee he won’t be harmed, or face prosecution if the clan is brought in.’
‘You’re in no position to impose conditions.’
‘I don’t care. If you want my help, you’ll make sure Ben comes out of this clean.’
After a moment Cruise nodded. ‘Done. If you perform as required, I’ll make sure any resulting prosecutions against him are dropped.’
Louisa blinked. She’d expected Cruise to refuse point blank. ‘He’ll walk free? With nothing on his record?’
‘You have my word.’
‘Good, then we have a deal. When the NCA have Spencer Harrow in custody, I’ll contact you.’
Cruise’s laugh had a hollow sound. ‘You misunderstand. We don’t want Harrow anywhere near the NCA. He’s too much of a liability.’
‘What then? Am I supposed to arrest him myself and deliver him to you?’
Cruise gave her a puzzled look, like she was slow on the uptake. ‘No.’
Louisa ground her teeth. ‘Then what do you want?’
‘We want you to kill him, of course.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
At Louisa’s primary school a boy in her class named Oliver Finch took great delight in dismembering daddy longlegs. Her best friend, Mandy Higgins, caught him pulling the legs off one poor creature during a lunch break. He’d found the insect skittering off the school walls in a shady corner behind a wheelie bin.
‘Stop it, Ollie!’ Mandy cried. ‘Killing living things is bad karma!’
Ollie squinted up from where he crouched with all the confusion of the blissfully ignorant. To be truthful at the time Louisa hadn’t known what Mandy meant either. She had to wait until home time so she could ask her dad.
‘Cosmic mumbo jumbo’, her dad told her on the drive home. ‘Karma is a contrivance used to enforce good behaviour in people who should know better.’
He believed a person’s actions shouldn’t be governed by the threat of future repercussions or future reward. Instead everyone should try to be the best individual they possibly could in life. “Right is right, wrong is wrong,” went one of his favourite sayings. Karma didn’t come into it.
When Cruise, or whatever his name was, said he wanted her to kill Harrow, karma didn’t cross her mind. Louisa accepted his terms. He would never have let her join Drew’s investigation otherwise. And when the NCA found the clan she’d be right there with them, doing her damnedest to ensure Ben’s safety.
I’ve agreed to kill a man. What sort of person does that make me?
She kept on hearing the MI6 agent’s words again and again. We want you to kill him. There had been no sugarcoating. No innuendo. What would happen when she faced Harrow? If he pointed a gun at a member of the public, or at her, or at an NCA agent, she’d have no hesitation in taking him down. But would it be so clearcut? What if he gave himself up? She couldn’t kill someone in cold blood.
Even to save Ben?
It was ironic. If she’d kept her mouth shut during the COBRA meeting, MI6 might never have felt the need to use her as their private assassin. Not if the PM had authorised preemptive lethal force.
Assassin.
The word gave her the shivers. Is that what she’d become? A killer for hire, like Kane Shepherd?
Right is right, wrong is wrong.
*
‘Louisa, it’s good to have you on board.’ The wrinkles in the corners of Drew’s eyes formed deep crevices.
‘It is?’
‘Of course. I’ll take you through to the incident room.’
She’d received a call from DCI Lenihan less than an hour after leaving Cruise. She was now officially the MET’s temporary liaison to the NCA. Her boss must have been wondering why she’d been appointed to a role that didn’t even exist. Thankfully he kept his curiosity to himself. She wouldn’t have liked lying to him.
The NCA’s London headquarters was similar in many ways to the SCD7 building. A Georgian terrace outfitted with modern office amenities on an unpresuming side street.
‘It’s funny how the tables have turned,’ Drew said.
Louisa frowned. ‘Sorry?’
‘When my boss told me someone from the MET was coming on board, I wasn’t best pleased. I realise now how you must have felt about me in SCD7.’ He glanced sidelong at her. ‘I’m glad it turned out to be you.’
‘Really? Even with my conflict of interest?’
Drew winced. ‘I deserved that. But the thing is, I know where I stand with you. This operation has brought out the best and the worst in the NCA. We’re more political than the MET in many ways. It’s good to have someone on the team I can trust. Someone with no hidden agenda.’
Louisa gave Drew a sharp look, but detected no contrivance. If only you knew. You should be trusting me least of all.
Drew stopped outside a suite of tiny rooms, each barely large enough to seat one person inside. There were around twenty. Most were occupied. NCA officers sat in reclined chairs, their eyes closed.
‘You’re running the operation virtually?’ Louisa asked.
He nodded. ‘We’ve drawn resources from across the UK. Plus we have a large contingent from GCHQ jacking in.’ He stopped outside an empty room. ‘I heard about Simon Carlyle. I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I know you two were close.’
She felt a jolt at hearing Simon’s name. Her breath caught. Drew’s sympathy had triggered something deep inside. A feeling of dread enveloped her.
‘Are you all right?’ Drew asked.
Louisa nodded. She forced a smile. An incoming message alert flashed before her. Ed had sent her a link to his office and a short note indicating he’d found something she needed to see. With all that had happened she’d forgotten Ed was trying to crack the clan’s Multiverse communications. ‘Sorry, I need to make a call before I join you,’ Louisa said.
‘Sure. Jack in when you’re ready.’
Louisa entered the room, took a seat in the recliner and activated Ed’s link. She entered full immersion and found herself once again in Ed’s virtual office at Nanometrix. His avatar was seated behind the desk.
‘What have you got?’ Louisa asked him.
‘The encryption they’ve layered around their communications is sound,’ Ed said. ‘I couldn’t detect any vulnerabilities. So instead I turned my attention to the players logging into the realm. They’re using an ID obfuscation tool. Each time someone logs in, their Multiverse profile ID is randomised. There’s no way of determining who they are.’
‘But you found something?’
‘I did.’ Although Ed’s avatar-face was blank, he sounded pleased with himself. ‘One of the players screwed up. They didn’t log completely out of Multiverse when they finished interacting with the clan’s realm. They jumped to another realm and logged in using their real Multiverse ID.’
Louisa didn’t want to dampen Ed’s enthusiasm, but the NCA had a list of every clan member now. She really didn’t need the ID he’d found. Still, she didn’t want to sound ungrateful. ‘Thanks, Ed. You’ve been a big help.’
‘Here it is.’ A blue card materialised in his hand. He offered it to her. When she took the card, it vanished. A long alphanumeric code appeared. She waved it away, knowing it would remain attached to her profile.
‘I can’t tell who the player is,’ Ed sai
d, ‘but Multiverse should have the player’s details on file. I could have a look at their servers if you want me to—’
‘No, thanks, you’ve done more than enough.’ She didn’t want to expose Ed to any more risk. Monitoring a Multiverse game’s communications was one thing, but he’d face prison time for sure if he were caught hacking into their private servers.
‘There is one more thing. The other realm, it’s used for administration.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Multiverse can tweak in-play mods without the need for a complete redeployment of their core framework. The administration realm is used to carry out these changes. Only Multiverse employees have access. Either the player obtained an admin ID from somewhere, or he works for Multiverse.’
Multiverse? She wondered if Drew knew one of the clan was an employee. He surely would. Any basic profile would show a place of work.
‘Thanks Ed,’ she said. ‘I appreciate it, but I want you to stay clear of the clan from now on. It’s too dangerous.’
Ed shrugged. ‘No problem. It was fun.’
*
Louisa stood on a raised circular platform in the center of a doughnut-shaped ring. A railing separated her from over fifty Portal consoles spread on the lower area, all manned. The consoles faced away from her toward a curved wall screen that encircled the room. Displayed on it were the Sons of Babel’s Portal profiles and beside them a number of statements issued from the clan. The first was released earlier that day, claiming responsibility for the bombing. The next was a demand for Portal’s immediate dissolution. What could only be described as a pro-privacy rant followed, vowing to take any required steps to stop the “mass exploitation of its users’ data”.
Her eyes were drawn to Ben’s profile. Instead she forced herself to focus on Harrow’s. It listed his last job as a technical consultant in Portal. She followed his employment right back to university. There was no mention of GCHQ. She didn’t know if the absence was normal for GCHQ employees or if it had been expunged from his profile. And if GCHQ falsified that part of his profile, could they have altered anything else?
One Life Remaining (Portal Book 2) Page 16