When he arrived at Mallam Aminu International, he checked in at the EgyptAir desk, then made his way through security, placing his holdall on the conveyor belt and depositing his metal items in the tray provided. He stepped through the detector as his luggage passed through the x-ray machine, then went to collect his coins and phone.
‘Excuse me, sir. Please take your bag and come with me.’
A confused Mackenzie did as requested, and followed the man to a room where three uniformed officers were waiting.
‘What’s this about?’
‘Did you pack this bag yourself ?’
Mackenzie nodded, and the security officer opened it, pulling the contents out carefully. He got to a pair of rolled-up socks and weighed them in his hands.
‘What’s in here?’
‘I . . . nothing, there’s nothing . . . ’
The officer unravelled the socks to reveal a transparent bag containing a white powder.
‘Nothing?’
‘That’s not mine!’
Two of the three policemen already had their weapons drawn, while the third approached with a pair of handcuffs.
‘You can explain that at the police station.’
Mackenzie knew he’d been set up, but explaining it to these people would be a waste of breath. It had to have been Gray, probably working in partnership with the attaché, Engle.
Whoever it was, they had royally screwed him.
The Air France flight climbed into the dark sky, with France’s Charles de Gaulle Airport their first port of call. After a brief stopover, they would take to the skies again, scheduled to touch down in Havana ten hours later.
When the Fasten Seatbelt sign was extinguished, Harvey got up and went to the toilet, stopping at the galley on the way back to get some water. When he returned to his seat, he found Farsi engrossed in a file he’d printed out before leaving London.
‘According to this, blackouts are a regular occurrence in Cuba. Maybe that’s something Gray can take advantage of.’
‘We’ll mention it to him, but I’m hoping it won’t come down to a full-on assault. Farrar is bound to have some form of security, and I don’t relish a firefight on foreign soil.’
Given Gray’s track record, Harvey felt certain that violence lay ahead. The ideal scenario was to walk up to Farrar’s front door, grab him and take him to Guantánamo Bay, which was officially US soil. From there he could be flown back to the UK for interrogation.
The likelihood of that happening with Tom’s team on the scene was minimal, though. Gray had seen his nemesis Farrar put behind bars once before, only to be released and apparently given the opportunity to mastermind the recent attacks.
Harvey seriously doubted that Gray would let Farrar walk again, especially as his daughter had recently been targeted. By taking Farrar into custody, the chance of him absconding again—no matter how remote—was there. He’d have to drill Gray on the rules of engagement once they met up in Havana, and it wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to. Thankfully, he’d have the calming influence of Len Smart to counter Gray’s maverick persona, and he hoped that between them they could convince Gray to do it by the book.
‘So what did Sarah say when you blew her off ?’ Farsi asked, breaking into his thoughts. ‘How’s she gonna cope without her stud popping round each night?’
‘Hamad, you really are crude. Besides, that was all in the line of duty.’
‘Oh, my heart bleeds. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.’
A smile made its way onto Harvey’s face. ‘It sure beat a night in front of the television with a microwave meal, but it was the only way to get information out of her. That said, it was getting too uncomfortable. She was pressing me on Farrar’s whereabouts and wouldn’t believe that I didn’t know anything.’
‘Which fortunately was true at the time. One flash of her thighs and you’d have caved.’
‘Oh, ye of little faith.’
Farsi got up and went to the toilet, navigating the narrow aisle carefully as turbulence juddered the plane from side to side. His eyes were focused on the leggy flight attendant in the galley, and he paid little attention to the female passenger seated six rows behind him.
Sarah Thompson saw Hamad Farsi rise from his seat and she lowered her head, pretending to be engrossed in the Hello! magazine on her lap.
She had little fear of being recognised, but didn’t want to risk making eye contact. The patchwork leather hat over the short, black wig and glasses perched halfway down her nose had transformed her into a frumpy, middle-aged nobody. The ensemble was completed by the baggy, brown woollen jumper and beige cargo pants, which disguised her figure. Her cheeks were padded out with rolls of cotton wool pressed against her lower gum, altering her jawline. The overall effect added at least twenty pounds, and she felt sure her own aunt wouldn’t recognise her. Especially not in these god-awful Ugg boots.
Ever since Harvey had cried off from their nightly get-togethers, she’d been suspicious, and it hadn’t taken long to discover that he and Farsi had been given leave. Having two senior operatives out of the office at the same time had pointed to something out of the ordinary, especially under current circumstances, so she’d done a little digging.
All operatives had a series of legends—fake identities that they’d use when working undercover—and a quick search of those issued to Harvey and Farsi showed new papers issued earlier that day. From there it was simply a matter of querying the airlines for tickets booked in those names, leading to the discovery that both of them were booked on through-flights to Havana.
There was nothing on any of the threat boards to suggest Cuba was plotting anything against the UK and, knowing Harvey as she did, she could only imagine one reason for the trip.
James Farrar.
It had been a mad dash arranging her own legend and getting tickets on the same flights, but she was determined to foil whatever Andrew Harvey had in mind.
Chapter 38
20 December 2014
It was after seven in the evening by the time Gray and his colleagues made it to the arrivals hall at Jose Marti International, the twenty-eight hour journey having been spent in sheer boredom. Gray had at least managed a few hours of sleep this time, but his body clock was misfiring badly and it felt more like morning than early evening.
With no-one to meet them, they exited the airport in search of a taxi. A line of vehicles straight out of a black and white movie sat to their left, and they climbed into the first one, a 1950 Series 62 Cadillac sedan. It looked in surprisingly good shape on first inspection, but once the driver hit the ignition, the car showed its true colours.
With a belch of grey smoke, it pulled into traffic, and they were soon on the Avenida de La Independencia, the three-lane highway leading into the centre of Havana. The driver set a leisurely pace, and Gray suspected it was more down to the car’s age than an attempt to let them take in the sights.
Traffic was relatively light, and they made the twenty-kilometre journey in a little over forty minutes. They pulled up outside a huge, seven-storey white building overlooking Havana Harbour, and Gray paid the driver before leading the men into the gargantuan reception area.
‘Kyle came up trumps,’ Sonny said, obviously impressed with the new surroundings.
‘We’re not here on holiday,’ Smart reminded him.
Gray sorted out the reservations in the name of Tim Green, and the concierge handed over two keys for rooms on the second floor.
‘You also have a message, Mr Green.’
Gray took the envelope and moved towards the elevator before opening it.
‘Andrew’s already here,’ he told his companions. ‘Let’s dump our things and go see him.’
Gray had a single room, while Smart and Sonny had been booked into a double. As he walked in, Gray was confronted with a large double bed
, a mahogany table with two chairs, and little else apart from a dressing table. The CRT television set looked like it had survived the revolution, though the en-suite appeared modern enough.
He locked up and caught up with the others in the adjoining room, where Sonny was testing out the bed.
‘Once this is over, I might just hang around for a few days,’ he said, relaxing on top of the bed sheets.
‘I’ve got a feeling we’ll be leaving in a hurry,’ Gray said. ‘Stow your gear so we can go and meet Andrew. He’s on the next floor up.’
They took the stairs to Harvey’s room, and as they entered the hallway they saw him about to enter his room.
‘You finally made it,’ Harvey said, opening his door and letting them in.
Farsi was sitting at a small table, tapping away on his keyboard. He got up and shook hands with the new arrivals.
‘My CIA contact managed to arrange the weapons you asked for,’ Harvey said. ‘We have to go and pick them up tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I thought we’d scope out the target tonight. I’ve got a hire car and thought we’d leave at around eleven.’
‘That gives us a couple of hours. What’s the food like here?’
‘They do a wonderful steak in the restaurant,’ Farsi said. ‘Argentinian beef, the best there is.’
‘You had me at steak,’ Gray said. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Ideally, we pick Farrar up without any shots fired and take an eight-hour drive southeast to US soil. Think you can manage that?’
Gray looked Harvey in the eye. ‘If it goes like that, sure.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’ Harvey asked.
‘Then I suggest you keep your head down and fire only when you have a clear target.’
‘Tom, I know you guys have history, but my brief is to bring him home.’
‘History is a bit of an understatement.’ Gray laughed, but the grave look on Harvey’s face told him it was no joke.
‘I’m serious. If there are any . . . accidents, it’ll come back on me. So we follow the plan: take him to Guantánamo, fly him back home and get to the bottom of this.’
‘Handing him over to the authorities didn’t work out too well last time, did it?’
‘No,’ Harvey conceded, ‘but this isn’t just about revenge, no matter how much you want it to be. I know he targeted you—’
‘—and my daughter,’ Gray reminded him.
‘Yes, and Melissa, but he isn’t the last link in the chain. We believe someone in the cabinet ordered this, but if you kill Farrar we’ll never be able to prove it.’
It wasn’t what Gray wanted to hear, but as always Harvey made a good point. Over the last forty-eight hours he’d pictured himself standing before Farrar many times, and each encounter had ended with his enemy departing for the next world. At no point had he envisaged sharing a plane home with him.
‘Okay, we take him with us,’ Gray said, ‘but if he manages to wriggle out of this, all bets are off.’
‘Deal.’
‘Erm, I think someone mentioned steak?’ Sonny said, trying to break the tension.
‘He’s right,’ Smart said. ‘It’s gonna be a long night. Let’s eat and get ready.’
They trooped down to the restaurant, and Farsi’s claims about the food were right on the money. Gray had the juiciest sirloin he’d ever tasted, and they washed it down with an overpriced bottle of Bolivian red wine.
Afterwards, they retired to their rooms. Gray opened the suitcase Ackerman had arranged for him, and was pleased to find black pants and a dark blue jumper, ideal attire for that evening.
They met up outside the main entrance an hour later, and Harvey handed the valet the ticket for his car. The three-year-old Ford was brought around a minute later, and they piled in, Harvey pointing the nose east.
Despite the hour, the streets were still packed, with both locals and tourists flocking to the many night spots in search of music and more. They passed through the Tunel de La Habana, which took them under the Canal de Entrada, then along Via Monumental until it branched off onto Via Blanca.
‘We’re getting close,’ Harvey said. ‘How far away do you want to park?’
‘Drive past the place and carry on at least half a click,’ Gray said. Five hundred metres wouldn’t take them long to walk, and he wanted to get a feel of the area. It looked quite affluent, so he had no concerns about the group being accosted while on foot.
Harvey pulled off the four-lane highway and kept the speed down to twenty-five as he drove past the target, a white, two-storey building surrounded by a six-foot wall topped with broken bottle glass. Two lights glowed on the upper floor, and a silhouette walked past one of the illuminated windows.
A minute later, Harvey found a grove of trees to park under, and they poured out of the vehicle.
‘We just need eyes-on tonight,’ Gray reminded them. ‘Andrew, you and Hamad wait by the car. Sonny, you take the beach side. Len and I will check the back.’
Gray set off with Smart a yard behind him, and they stuck to the trees until they reached a point adjacent to the corner of the whitewashed wall. From across the road, they could see very little, and Gray used hand signals to explain that he wanted to get in closer.
A large wooden gate was built into the middle of the wall, and after making sure he couldn’t be seen from the upper windows, Gray crouched down and dashed across the road. He was hoping to find a gap between the boards so that he could see into the courtyard, but the gate was sturdily built. A small door was built into it to allow pedestrian access, but he couldn’t find a handle to open it. In fact, the whole gate looked like it could only be opened from the inside, suggesting the compound would always be manned, even when the main occupant was out.
He listened intently, and eventually he heard a sound above the hiss of the waves slapping against the nearby beach.
Footsteps.
Convinced that Farrar had security inside, Gray retreated across the road and told Smart what he’d found.
‘We’ll need to know their strength before we go in,’ Smart said. ‘That means we either stick our heads over the wall, or we find another way to get a bird’s-eye view.’
Gray looked around, and his gaze drifted upwards. ‘We’ll have to get into one of these trees.’
‘Up you go, then,’ Smart said. ‘I’m not exactly built for it these days.’
Avoiding the ones nearest the road, Gray found a specimen that had some solid-looking branches, and he got Smart to give him a helping hand to the lowest one. Foliage from the neighbours prevented him seeing into the compound, so he edged higher, taking his time to prevent the rustling leaves from giving away his location.
Once he was ten feet above the ground, he found a gap in the branches that afforded a limited view of the enclosed garden, and his fears were confirmed. Two men were chatting by the corner of the house, M4 carbines held across their chests.
Gray motioned to Smart that he had eyes-on and planned to stay in position. With luck, he’d spot a pattern to their movements, or at least see how many people were working the night shift. So far he’d seen just this pair, and they didn’t look like locals.
Two large SUVs were parked at the side of the house, and an ornamental fountain took centre stage in the front garden, encircled by a pebbled road. A couple of small bushes were the only other features in the garden, meaning Gray and his men wouldn’t find much cover once they were inside the walls.
Ten minutes later, another figure appeared from the side of the house. Like the others, he was carrying a rifle, and they talked for a minute before one of the original pair disappeared towards the back of the building. Gray looked for CCTV cameras but saw none, though they could easily be hidden out of sight, so he couldn’t assume the grounds weren’t being covered.
After another thirty minutes, Gray had seen one other shi
ft change, yet another new face coming to relieve the original guard, which made at least four people securing the premises. He decided he’d seen enough for one night, and it was time to get back to the car and see what intel Sonny had managed to gather.
He climbed down slowly and the pair retraced their steps to the Ford, where they found the others waiting.
‘I wasn’t able to get too close,’ Sonny told them, ‘but I saw two guards out back and they were relieved by a third.’
He gave a rundown of timings, and they coincided with the ones Gray had observed.
‘It looks like they rotate around the perimeter every thirty minutes, perhaps with one other inside to cover breaks,’ Gray said. ‘That means six that we know of, and possibly more.’
‘Let’s get home and work on a plan while it’s still fresh in your minds,’ Smart said.
They climbed back into the Ford and Harvey took them the circuitous way home, eager to avoid driving back past the target building. When they arrived back at the hotel it was nearly two in the morning, yet there were still plenty of people in the lobby owing to the in-house entertainment.
They climbed the stairs to Gray’s room and ordered room service. While they waited for it to arrive, Gray took a couple of pages of hotel paper and began sketching out a plan of the compound.
‘This is where I saw the guards,’ he said, marking two crosses on the drawing. He handed the pen to Sonny, who indicated the location of the men he’d seen.
‘Looks like the best way in is over the wall here,’ Smart said, indicating the side of the house where the SUVs were parked. ‘The vehicles will offer us some cover when the fight kicks off.’
‘If it kicks off,’ Harvey reminded him. ‘The prime objective is to complete the mission with zero shots fired.’
‘That’s not up to us,’ Gray said. ‘We need to get to Farrar. If anyone tries to stop us, it’s their funeral.’
‘Tom, you said—’
Gray Vengeance Page 27