Capture or Kill

by Tom Marcus

  My job is keeping people safe, but sometimes it seems like playing by the rules just means letting the other guy win.

  Pulling into the garages, I can see Alex taking her helmet off and unzipping her leathers, while the others lean on their vehicles. I can tell the whole team feel deflated. No one is talking; they’re just stood around inspecting Imran’s car, watching Lee kneeling on the back seat and sealing the brick in an evidence bag, on the off-chance Stone Fist left any DNA on it.

  As Lee backs out of the car and stands upright, Dexter shouts, ‘Done that before?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Bent over the back seat of a car, bagging up . . .’

  Alex is laughing so much she snorts. However stressful the situation, you could always rely on Dexter to take the piss. Sometimes it’s just what the team needs. But right now, I find it hard to see the funny side. The operations officer, Jeremy Leyton-Hughes, walks up to the car, looking out of place in his suit and tie. He might as well have a sign round his neck saying, ‘I just sit at a desk.’ He waits until the smirking has subsided.

  ‘Right, quick update before I’ll let you go. From the agent handlers in G Branch, the brothers are definitely involved in some sort of drugs activity, and whoever they are dealing with is more than likely armed. Intelligence is suggesting a criminal family originally from Belarus. GCHQ have intercepted text messages from targets currently unrelated to Iron Sword or Stone Fist, using known code words for weapons and ammunition. Those messages have been tracked back to the vicinity of the derelict building you had the brothers leaving out of. At the moment, it looks like you need to be back here in roughly seven hours for an early start for a Russian pick-up job at the airport. I’ll brief you on it tomorrow, but it’s the usual foreign intelligence officer from their SVR, posing as a diplomat.’

  So that’s it. An hour up the motorway to get home, and I won’t even get to talk to my wife before I have to turn round and come back again. And then on to the next job. And the brothers? Well, we’ll just wait for them to turn up again, won’t we?

  ‘Sorry, bear with me.’ Breaking off to answer his phone, Jeremy turns his back to us, but we all study his body language as he gives one-word answers. It takes all of ten seconds for him to finish the call. I can tell from his face he’s just been given bad news.

  ‘That was the assistant director of G Branch.’

  This wasn’t good. The AD of any branch doesn’t get involved in operations unless it’s a massive fuck-up.

  ‘The phone you GPS’d belonging to Iron Sword is still pinging up at the derelict address.’

  So his phone was still there. But where is he? Jeremy’s next words confirm my worst fears.

  ‘Both of the brothers withdrew two hundred pounds in cash, their daily limit at a cash point, a few miles north, near Walsall, confirmed by CCTV. They have since gone to ground and we have no technical tracking, no location or eavesdropping on them, no phones, email. Nothing.’

  The whole team start to shake their heads, Alex muttering under her breath as she looks at me.

  ‘Fucking bullshit. What’s the point?’

  She puts her helmet on with her visor up and walks straight over to her bike. Following her lead, Dexter walks to his car as the intelligence officer tries to reassert his position.

  ‘I haven’t finished yet, team!’

  Jeremy shouting only highlights his superiority complex. Ignoring him, I turn to Lee.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, we’ve bent the rules before. All we had to do is stay on them. It’s not as if we haven’t all sat next to armed terrorists before, is it?’

  ‘You know we have to follow procedure, even if we don’t like it. It became a health and safety issue because we hadn’t requested armed support in time. Otherwise—’

  I carry on, not listening to this pathetic bullshit.

  ‘Two of the biggest threats to the public, doing everything they can to shake us. We still don’t know what their fucking plan is and we let them walk because of health and fucking safety? We’re MI5!’

  Jeremy looks on but stays silent as Lee counters my anger with a level of authority I’m not ready to receive.

  ‘Hold on Logan, you’re out of order here. I understand your frustration, but if we’re patient, G Branch are confident we’ll be seeing those two again.’

  Suddenly an image flashes into my mind. A street filled with smoke, the noise of sirens, children screaming.

  My anger has gone. I just feel cold. ‘Yeah, and I’m sure they’re right. But it’ll be on the fucking news.’

  Without waiting for a reply, I climb into my car and drive away.

  3

  Even seasoned operators like us fall into a deep sleep sometimes; for me it only happens when I’m at home. I’m woken by my phone vibrating noisily against my car keys on the bedside table. Surely it can’t be time to sneak back out of the door already? In my confused state, I feel like I’ve only just got home. Pressing my knuckles into my eyes, I take a deep breath and look at my phone.

  New time: 1600hrs Garage A

  Thank fuck for that. I can get another hour’s sleep before little Joseph wakes up. I’ll actually see my wife while we’re both awake, can even do the nursery run. I feel a weight slip off my shoulders. Dropping the phone to the floor, I collapse back under the duvet. I can hear Sarah breathing softly next to me, asleep. That’s what I need. Sleep. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I’d become. I close my eyes and breathe in slowly, trying to get my heart rate back to normal. Seconds pass and my eyes flick open. Through the doorway, I can see the nightlight in Joseph’s room start to dim.

  It’s no good. My phone vibrating has automatically put me in full operator mode, and however tired I am, I know I’m not going to get back to sleep now. It’s like my body has aged forty years overnight. But there’s an upside: I can sneak downstairs and have a quiet tidy up, get breakfast ready for Joseph and Sarah, put some washing on. By the time I’ve done all that they’ll be awake and I can switch the coffee machine on. I smile to myself. It isn’t much, but at least I’ll be making a contribution.

  I’ve always been good at moving around a house quietly. As a kid, I quickly learned how to sneak past my dad to avoid setting off his hair-trigger temper. I shake the memory away as I carefully plant one foot on the floor, then the other. Moving towards the stairs, I poke my head round Joseph’s door. I can’t believe how small he looks in his cot, lying on his side still holding his elephant teddy, as he does every night. Man, what I wouldn’t give to be his age again. Absolutely nothing to worry about; everything new and exciting. And a mum and dad who would do anything for him.

  Smiling, I carry on downstairs to the kitchen, careful not to walk on the steps that creak. Bloody hell – the place is immaculate. There’s a toy dinosaur under one of the chairs, but that’s it. Everything else clean, tidied away and in its place. I don’t know how she does it. Looking after Joseph is a full-time job – more than most full-time jobs: it’s eighteen hours a day every day, with no time off except when you’re asleep. And even then, as a parent, you never really allow yourself to slip into a deep sleep in case your child needs you. Looking around the living room, I realize there’s nothing for me to do. I sit down at the table and put my head in my hands. What am I actually contributing to this family? When I first became a dad, I really looked forward to reading to my kid at night, but I hardly ever do it. I’m never here. And Sarah; what she needs is a husband who takes the slack, maybe even takes her out for a nice meal once in a while. I feel like grabbing one of the mugs on the draining board and smashing it against the wall. But that would only make things worse. Come on, get a grip. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something. Anything.

  The house might be spotless, but I could make us all breakfast and we could sit down like a proper family. Then I could run Sarah a bath and take Joseph to his nursery. Porridge for Joseph; blueberries on some little pancakes and a nice strong coffee for Sarah. Easy.

  A few minutes l
ater, I can hear Joseph starting to stir upstairs, so I turn the heat down on his porridge and try and get to his room before Sarah gets out of bed. It takes him a second to adjust when he sees it’s Daddy rather than Mummy coming to lift him out of his cot, but then he smiles and kicks his legs excitedly. Is this the best feeling in the world? Still holding on tightly to his elephant, he holds his arms up, ready for me to lift him out.

  ‘Morning, little man.’

  I carry him through to Sarah and she greets me with a huge, sleepy smile. I sit on the edge of the bed with Joseph on my knee; he starts wriggling uncontrollably, bumping his head against my shoulders. Sarah starts tickling his foot.

  ‘You love Daddy, don’t you?’

  I’m grinning like an idiot, but I can feel the tears beginning to well up. Do I really deserve this?

  ‘Want some breakfast, you two?’

  We go downstairs, Joseph still wriggling for all he’s worth. I settle him in his high chair and start making Sarah some coffee. Then I remember something.

  ‘Shit, one second, left my work phone upstairs.’

  I go upstairs, grab the phone and sprint back down. Sarah’s poured herself a mug of coffee and looks at me. She’s not smiling any more.

  ‘What time have you got to leave?’

  ‘Don’t worry, not till two-ish. The job got pushed back, so I’ll take Joseph to nursery while you have a bath if you want?’

  ‘Yes!’ Now she’s smiling again.

  I grab a coffee and we sit down. Together. A family.

  I don’t want this to end.

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t we go to the zoo today? It’s time Joseph saw a real elephant, don’t you think? Otherwise he’s going to grow up thinking they’re all pink with button eyes. And I know how you feel about meerkats.’

  At first she doesn’t believe it. ‘But what about . . .?’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ve got time. You know what he’s like. He’ll go nuts for an hour then spark out and I can bring you both back before I have to leave. It’ll be perfect.’

  She pushes her dark hair out of her eyes and gives me a big grin. ‘All right! Let’s do it.’

  The bliss of family life is interrupted again as my team phone goes.

  Her grin disappears as if a cloud had just moved across the sun. She hands me the phone without looking at me.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’ll just be some sort of admin, I’m not due in till later on.’

  Sarah smiles but there’s no longer any warmth in it. ‘Sure. Whatever.’ She gets up and starts putting porridge in a plastic bowl while I swipe the screen to answer. The voice that responds isn’t the one I’m expecting. In fact, it’s one I’ve never heard before.

  ‘Logan, it’s the DG. I’d like you to come to a meeting.’

  What? The director general of MI5 is calling me at home. The man in charge of the entire Security Service. I’ve never even met the assistant DG, let alone his boss. What the fuck could he want? Did I overstep the mark so badly yesterday he wants to haul me in for a bollocking? Or worse: am I going to be fired? Surely Lee wouldn’t have been petty enough to take his beef with me upstairs. Or was it barking at Jeremy Leyton-Hughes the way I did? Maybe they realize we’ve lost the brothers for good and they need a scapegoat. I know there are one or two people at Thames House who think my background will always make me suspect, including privately educated Jeremy. However good an operator I am, they’d be happy to see the back of me. But the DG?

  ‘I . . . er . . . I’m due in at sixteen hundred hours. I could come in a bit earlier, sir, if you want me to come to your office . . .’

  He must pick up on the hesitation in my voice, and his tone softens. ‘Listen, Logan, you’re not in trouble. But I need to meet you earlier than that, I’m afraid. Eleven hundred hours. And not in the office. At one of our garages. Zulu. You remember the location?’

  I clear my throat and try to put my paranoid thoughts out of my mind.

  ‘Yes, no problem, sir. I haven’t been there in a while but I know how to get there.’

  Zulu Garages are completely off-site, within a military compound. I’ve only ever been there once, to change a team car. I thought we’d abandoned them years ago. I do a quick calculation in my head. If the meeting isn’t too long, I can get there and back and still have time to take Joseph and Sarah to the zoo before the team meeting at 1600 hours. It would take some nifty driving, but it would be worth it.

  ‘Good, Logan, good. When you get to the garages, make your way down to the basement level. I’ll meet you there.’ He pauses, and when he speaks again, there’s an edge of steel in his voice. ‘And Logan, make sure you’re not followed, tell no one. This is strictly need to know.’

  ‘OK, sir, but—’ I want to ask him who else is going to be at the meeting. Why isn’t it going to be at Thames House? Why can’t I tell anyone? But the line is already dead.

  I quickly wipe the bewildered expression from my face and turn to Sarah, who’s spooning porridge into Joseph’s mouth with total concentration, as if she hasn’t been paying attention to the conversation. But I know she’s been processing every word, trying to figure out if our plans for the day have just gone out the window.

  ‘Fuck me if that wasn’t the director general . . .’

  She throws me a quick frown. Little Joseph can’t understand a word, but I know I shouldn’t swear in front of him. He still only says a handful of words, but neither of us want him picking up that sort of language.

  ‘Sorry, look, I’ve got to go and see him . . .’

  Another disappointed face. Worried this time. She knows my reputation at Thames House as well as I do.

  ‘Nah, nah, nothing serious. I think he probably wants to give me a medal. And it’s not too far away.’ I glance at my watch. ‘I’ll be back in plenty of time. We can always leave a little bit later to get to the zoo. The elephants aren’t going anywhere.’

  She looks into my eyes, a spoonful of porridge hovering in mid-air, just out of Joseph’s reach. He makes a complaining sound and slaps his hand on the top of his seat. Maintaining your cover and fronting things out when you’re under pressure is all part of the job, and I like to think there’s no one better at it, but Sarah’s the one person I can’t lie to. She instantly knows when I’m trying to pull the wool over her eyes, and right now they’re like laser beams, searing into me.

  ‘I don’t believe that. Why can’t he see you when you’re in the office? Why does it have to be today?’

  She goes back to feeding Joseph.

  I feel a surge of frustration. I’m doing my best here. ‘Look, I wouldn’t normally get this much time with you and Joseph during the week. This afternoon is a bonus . . .’

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth I want to snatch them back. Sarah swivels in her chair, knocking the pot of porridge to the floor. ‘A bonus? This is what normal people do, what normal families do. It shouldn’t be a special treat I’m supposed to be grateful for. If we can’t do things like this then what’s the point?’

  ‘The point?’ I can feel my anger rising. All the frustrations about my own failings are coming to the surface. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I’m trying to keep us safe, to keep you and Joseph safe, to stop those bastards—’

  Joseph lets out a wail and puts out his little hands, fingers reaching out to his mum. My raised voice has scared him. Oh, God, this is the last thing I want. I don’t want to be this person. Unbuckling his safety clip, I lift him gently out of his high chair and pull him to my chest.

  ‘I’m sorry, baba. Daddy’s sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

  I smother him in kisses and he stops crying as quickly as he started. I let out a breath and gently rock him, then reach an arm out and gently squeeze Sarah’s shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—’

  She shrugs my hand away. ‘Logan, I married you, not your team, not the director fucking general, you. But I feel I don’t really have you to myself any more
. Of course I know it’s important, what you do, and I’m proud of that. But Logan, Joseph and I need you too.’

  ‘Look, I know it’s hard. You know I want more time with you both. And if it was just a team meeting, you know, I could turn up late for once . . .’ She purses her lips, not believing it for a moment. ‘But it’s the director general, and you know I can’t say no. But it’ll be quick, I know it will. And we can still go to the zoo.’

  Joseph makes a gurgling sound against my chest, almost as if he understands the word ‘zoo’. Sarah’s still angry, though. She won’t look me in the eye. I cup her chin with my hand and gently turn her face towards me.

  ‘I promise!’

  She sighs and holds her arms out for Joseph. It’s like she’s given up; resigned herself to the fate of being a single mum. Her voice doesn’t sound angry, just sad.

  ‘Logan, go. Get ready, or you’re going to be late.’

  Passing Joseph over, I look at my watch and quickly work out how long I’ve got to get ready. Shit, it’s going be tight. I go back upstairs, resisting the urge to sprint. The last thing I want to do is freak Joseph out again now he’s calm. Three minutes later, I’m all set. Sarah’s standing by the door with Joseph. I give her a peck on the cheek and kiss Joseph’s forehead.

  ‘I’ll be back soon.’

  She opens the door. ‘Just go!’

  As I pull away from the house, I have to clamp my hands tight on the steering wheel to stop them from shaking. After the screw-up with the brothers, all I wanted to do was get home to Sarah and Joseph, to spend some quality time with my little family. Instead, I ended up having a row with my wife and making my son cry. Why was it so fucking hard?