The Ben Hope Collection: 6 BOOK SET

by Mariani, Scott

  There was only one person in the world whose company he longed for. The one person he wasn’t free to be with. He’d left his phone back in the office, avoiding the inevitable call from her.

  He sighed and took out his cigarettes. Jogging and smoking, he thought. First the detox, and then the retox. Great going, Hope. But he didn’t care. Storm watched curiously as he sat there blowing smoke rings that drifted over the ruined walls.

  The dog snapped to attention, suddenly alert, ears pricked up. A second later Ben heard the snap of a twig. He turned.

  Stepping out of the trees, Brooke peered through the ivy-tangled Gothic archway and spotted him sitting there inside the ruined church. ‘Found you,’ she smiled, approaching. The way he was looking at her, she didn’t think he was too happy to have been found. Then he smiled back-but she could see the sadness in his face.

  She walked under the arch towards him. ‘Mind if I join you?’

  He didn’t reply, but shifted along the stone seat to make room for her. Brooke sat down beside him, her knee touching his.

  ‘I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve been exploring. I love it here. And I had a feeling it was the kind of spot Ben Hope would disappear off to when he needed to be alone.’

  ‘You know me pretty well, don’t you, Brooke?’

  ‘Pretty well,’ she said. ‘Well enough to know that something’s eating you.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know I’ve been shit company.’

  ‘I’ve had better, that’s for sure.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘Tell me what’s bugging you. You’ve been like a hen on a hot griddle since you got back. It’s something to do with this Zara who keeps calling. Right?’

  He tossed his cigarette stub away and watched it smoulder in the leaves for a moment, then crushed it with his boot. ‘I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘I think you need to talk about it.’

  ‘There you are, sounding like a psychologist again.’

  ‘I want to help you,’ she said. ‘Won’t you let me? I don’t like to see you suffering like this.’

  ‘It’s my problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

  ‘But it matters to me. A lot.’ Brooke wondered if she was saying too much.

  He reached out and touched her nose with brotherly affection. ‘You’re a good friend to me, Brooke.’

  I don’t want to be your friend, she thought. ‘So am I right?’ she asked.

  ‘Right about what?’

  ‘Right about this Zara.’

  ‘You’re right. It’s to do with Zara. Zara Paxton.’

  ‘Paxton. As in Harry Paxton?’

  He nodded glumly.

  ‘Daughter? Sister?’

  ‘Wife.’ Ben turned to look at her. ‘I’m in love with her.’

  Brooke frowned. ‘In love,’ she repeated. ‘Since when?’

  He sighed. ‘Since the first time I saw her. In Italy.’

  ‘But that was just a couple of days ago,’ she said.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Love at first sight? Come on.’

  ‘It’s corny, isn’t it?’ he replied with a chuckle. It sounded mirthless and hollow. ‘Stupid. But that’s how it is and I can’t seem to shake it out of my head.’

  Brooke stiffened a little. ‘This is something of a surprise, Ben.’

  He snorted. ‘And for me. You think I’m happy about it?’

  She bit her lip thoughtfully. ‘Does Zara feel the same about you?’

  ‘Now you really do sound like a psychologist.’

  ‘Does she?’

  Ben sighed. ‘She says she does.’

  ‘I guess that would explain all the phone calls. And does the colonel know about this affair?’

  ‘It’s not an affair,’ Ben said defensively. ‘Nothing’s happened between us.’

  ‘But does he know?’

  ‘Of course he doesn’t. And he’s never going to, because nothing’s ever going to happen.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why do you think I’m not answering her calls?’

  Brooke glanced knowingly at him. ‘Because you’re scared of what you’re feeling.’

  Ben said nothing to that.

  ‘Can I level with you?’ she said.

  He lit another cigarette. ‘You’re going to anyway. Why ask?’

  She measured her words, not wanting to say what she was about to say. ‘Here’s what I think. If you love this woman and she loves you, why don’t you just go for it? You’ve been through a terrible time the last year or so. You’ve been as down as anyone can be. Who wouldn’t, after what happened to Leigh?’

  She paused thoughtfully, then went on. ‘What I’m trying to say is, if now all of a sudden you’ve found someone new that you can love, that makes you one of the luckiest guys in the world. Don’t fight it. We only go around once, Ben.’

  ‘You don’t understand. Harry Paxton saved my life.’

  ‘I know that. So you feel you have a debt of honour to him. That’s admirable. But are you prepared to throw away a chance of real happiness over it? If anyone deserves a break, it’s you.’

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘In addition to which, I’m guessing that this Cairo trip was all about paying the debt back. So how much more do you think you owe this Paxton guy?’

  Ben smiled faintly. ‘I didn’t exactly pay it back. Not quite.’

  ‘Get back to the house, Ben. Pick up the damn phone and talk to her. You need to go with your heart.’

  There, she thought. She’d said it. Just about the hardest thing she’d ever had to say to anyone. She wanted to reach out and hold him, tell him how she really felt about him.

  ‘What’s wrong with your eye?’ he said suddenly.

  She reached up quickly and wiped away the tear that was clinging to her lashes. ‘Nothing. Just a speck of dust.’

  ‘Let me have a look,’ he said, bending towards her.

  She turned away. ‘No, it’s all right.’ She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes.

  ‘Come back with me to the house,’ he said. ‘I need to talk to Jeff. Apologise to him for the way I’ve been acting up. And you can rinse out that eye.’

  ‘Think I’ll stay a while. I like being alone here.’

  ‘You’re sure? Know your way back?’

  ‘Found you here, didn’t I?’

  As he was leaving, he reached down and touched her shoulder gently. ‘I’m glad you’re my friend.’

  He walked away, the dog trotting along at his heel.

  Brooke watched him slip away into the trees. Once she was alone, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

  Ben walked into the office to find Jeff sitting at the desk filling out some paperwork.

  He came right out with it. ‘Jeff, I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a prick the last couple of days.’

  Jeff grinned. ‘Yeah, you have. But I forgive you, mate.’

  ‘I need something to do.’

  ‘You can finish this paperwork. I’ve been breaking my balls over it all morning. How’s that for a punishment?’

  ‘That’ll do to begin with,’ Ben said. As he was about to start leafing through the paperwork, his mobile started ringing from the corner of the desk where he’d abandoned it earlier.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Jeff asked.

  ‘It’s her.’

  ‘Better get yourself a new SIM card. Because otherwise you might as well toss that phone in the river, if you’re never going to answer it again.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say to her.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake.’ Jeff snatched the phone up. ‘Le Val.’ He listened for a moment, glanced at Ben. ‘Sorry, he’s not available right now.’

  There was a pause as Jeff listened to the caller talking. Ben could just about make out the sound of their voice. It was a woman. Zara. He knew it.

  ‘OK, hold on.’ Jeff pulled the phone awa
y from his ear and covered it with his palm. ‘She says it’s extremely important.’

  ‘Jeff…don’t do this to me.’

  Jeff shook his head. ‘You don’t get it. It’s not Zara. It’s someone called Kim Valentine.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Says you know her.’

  ‘I don’t know any Kim Valentine.’

  Jeff thrust the phone at him. ‘You’d better talk to her.’

  Ben reluctantly clapped it to his ear. ‘Ben Hope.’

  ‘We need to talk,’ said the woman’s voice on the other end.

  ‘I don’t know you.’ But, even as he said it, he was thinking he’d heard that voice before.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ she said. ‘You just don’t know it yet.’

  Then Ben was holding a dead phone. ‘She hung up,’ he said to Jeff.

  Suddenly it rang again in his hand. He answered it. This time it was a video call, and Ben stared at the woman’s face on the tiny screen.

  The image was clear. There was no mistaking it. She looked a little different-now the dark hair was scraped back tight in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. But she was definitely the same woman.

  ‘Now you know,’ said Kim Valentine.

  It was Kerry Wallace. The woman he’d rescued on the beach in San Remo.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ben couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He shook his head in bafflement.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Kim Valentine said again. ‘There are things you need to know.’

  He just stared, said nothing.

  ‘I know this comes as a surprise for you,’ she said. ‘But it’s vitally important that you hear what I have to tell you.’

  ‘What’s this about, Kerry? Or Kim, or whatever your name is today.’

  ‘Forget Kerry. Kerry never existed.’

  ‘Which means you set me up,’ he said. ‘The whole thing on the beach was a fake.’ Now he understood the reason he hadn’t been able to find her at the hotel. ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘That’s what I need to talk to you about.’

  ‘Then I think you’d better start talking right now.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s complicated. Better that we meet in person. Face to face.’

  ‘You want to talk to me face to face, you come here and explain yourself. I’m not going all the way back to San Re mo.’

  She shook her head. ‘We’re not in Italy any more. We’re in Paris.’

  ‘Why Paris?’

  ‘There are reasons.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘My associates. You’ve already met them. One of them is still wearing the neck brace you put him into.’

  ‘I should have broken his spine,’ Ben said. ‘Maybe I will.’

  ‘You’ll feel differently when you hear what I have to say,’ she replied. ‘So, will you meet us? I guarantee you won’t regret it.’

  Ben hesitated. ‘You’ve already tricked me once. What makes this any different?’

  ‘I’m sorry it had to be that way, but I had no choice.’

  ‘I have one,’ he said. ‘I can just end this conversation right now.’ He switched off the phone, and the screen went dark.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Jeff asked as Ben started pacing up and down the office. Ben didn’t reply. He stopped pacing and gazed at the phone in his hand. He had to know more.

  He called back.

  She answered on the first ring. ‘Knew you’d call back.’ There was a note of relief in her voice as well as triumph.

  ‘All right. I’m listening.’

  ‘How fast can you get to Paris?’

  He looked at his watch. It was approaching midday. ‘I can be there this afternoon. Three hours, give or take.’

  ‘Call me when you get there. I’ll give you the address to come to.’

  ‘Then I’ll see you later, Valentine.’ Ben ended the call and shook his head, as if to clear it. He let out a long breath.

  ‘Off again?’ Jeff said. ‘More travels?’

  ‘You won’t know I’m gone.’

  Jeff smiled a long-suffering smile. ‘Don’t worry. I can take care of things.’

  They both turned as the door swung open and Brooke walked in. She was wearing a serious expression, and the same black jeans and green combat jacket she’d had on when Ben had picked her up at the airport. The holdall in her hand looked packed. She dumped it on the floor at her feet. ‘I’m leaving now,’ she announced.

  Ben thought he could hear a certain coldness in her voice. ‘I thought you were sticking around for a few more days,’ he said.

  ‘There are things I have to do in London. Better I get back.’

  He shrugged. There didn’t seem any point in arguing with her. ‘I’m leaving for Paris in a few minutes. I can drop you off at the airport on my way.’

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘Paris?’ she echoed pointedly. ‘Meeting someone?’

  ‘Yes, I am. But not who you think.’

  ‘I don’t need a lift, anyway. I already called a cab. They’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘Thanks for talking to me earlier, Brooke.’ Ben patted her shoulder. But something was wrong. He felt the muscles tighten and she flinched away.

  ‘Have a wonderful time in Paris,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘It’s not exactly a pleasure trip.’

  ‘Whatever.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I think I’ll walk up to the gate and meet the cab there. See you next week, Jeff.’ She snatched up her bag.

  ‘Look forward to it,’ Jeff replied. ‘Safe journey home.’

  Then Brooke was gone. Ben watched through the window as she marched across the yard with her holdall on her shoulder. ‘Something’s up with her,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t know what.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ Jeff said with a chuckle.

  Ben turned to him. ‘What?’

  ‘Come on, mate. Are you blind or just thick?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You really can’t see it, can you? She has a serious thing for you.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. You know Brooke. She likes to flirt and joke around. She doesn’t really mean anything by it.’

  ‘Doesn’t flirt with me,’ Jeff said. ‘Wish she would.’

  ‘You’re talking crap. She and I are just friends.’

  Jeff lounged back in his chair and cupped his hands behind his head. ‘Whatever you say, Ben. Whatever you say.’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  But Ben had more to think about than Brooke. He dashed up to his quarters, packed a few things in a leather overnight bag, and headed back across the yard to a squat brick building between the gym and the trainee block.

  It was no more than a hut. The door was riveted steel, a foot thick, and beside it was a wall-mounted keypad console shielded from the elements under thick plastic. He punched in a number. It was changed every week, and only he and Jeff knew it.

  There was nothing inside the building, just a square hole in the concrete floor and a flight of steps leading downwards. At the bottom of the steps was another heavy door and another keypad. He dialled in the twelve-digit passcode, heard a metallic clunk from somewhere inside the works, pushed the door open and flipped on a light switch.

  He was inside Le Val’s armoury room. All around him were racks of weapons, stored in accordance with high-security regulations. He walked over to a steel safe and unlocked it with a long key from the ring he was carrying. The safe was filled with an assortment of pistols and revolvers. He reached inside and lifted one out, an old standard-issue military Browning Hi-Power 9mm. He laid it on a nearby table, reached back inside the safe and took out two magazines and a box of 9mm ammunition.

  Even as he’d been talking to Kim Valentine, he’d decided that there was no way he was walking unarmed into a strange address in Paris to meet people he already knew weren’t who they said they were. There’d been enough surprises.

  He just couldn’t figure it out. Ever since Valentine’s call he’d been w
orking through the pieces in his mind, and coming up with nothing but questions. Who was she? Were these people interested in Morgan Paxton’s research? Connected with Kamal? Somehow, he didn’t think so. This was something else.

  He quickly loaded thirteen rounds into each mag. He slotted one into the butt of the pistol, the other he slipped into the left pocket of his jeans. Then he put the pistol in the other pocket, picked up the cartridge box and left the armoury.

  Behind the farmhouse was the converted Dutch barn that was now the garage block. He pulled open the weathered wooden doors and sunlight sparkled off the striped green bodywork of the Mini Cooper inside. As he chucked the overnight bag onto the back seat, he felt a pang of loss for his old army bag. He’d had that for years. He got in the car, stuffed the pistol and ammunition into the glove compartment, fired up the engine and spun the wheels on the gravel as he drove out of the yard.

  Twelve-forty. He’d be in Paris by four.

  He was there by quarter to. As he cut and slashed his way through the heavy traffic on the city’s Périphérique outer ring road, he called Valentine. She gave him an address in the suburbs. He knew the area.

  ‘Be here at six,’ she told him. ‘We’ll be waiting.’

  Two hours to kill. That suited him. He headed east through the city. Hit Boulevard Haussmann, took a right onto Boulevard des Italiens and headed for his old flat. It had been a long time since he’d been there. The place was simple, functional to the kind of extreme only a soldier could tolerate, but it had served him very well in its day. At one time he’d seen it as his safe-house, his doorway to Europe. Now it was just a symbol of the life he’d left behind-or was trying to. He’d been meaning to come back to Paris anyway, whip the place into order and put it on the market.

  He didn’t even know if anyone would want it. Its location was ideal, tucked away down an alley close to the heart of the city, but the only way into the place was through an underground parking lot, up a murky back stairway, and through an armoured security door. Not exactly a cosy family home.

  The flat felt cold and unlived-in when he got there, and everything was covered in a light coating of dust. He fired up the heating system and spent a few minutes cleaning the place up. He’d no intention of spending much time in Paris. This was going to be a flying visit-one night only, find out what Valentine had to say to him, and then straight back to Le Val in the morning. After that, he never wanted to think about any of this ever again.