Hot Blood

by Stephen Leather

  ‘I’m only a stupid American. You’ll have to spell it out for me,’ said Muller.

  ‘Charlotte Button,’ said Gannon. ‘Spider’s boss.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Muller. ‘I might just leave you to it.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that, John,’ said Gannon. ‘The fact that she’s here means that she probably knows all she needs to know. She used to work for MI5, but now she heads up SOCA’s undercover unit.’

  ‘Again, I’m just the stupid Yank here. You don’t mean soccer, the game, I take it?’

  ‘Sorry, John. The bloody initials become second nature after a while.’ He spelled out the letters. ‘Stands for the Serious Organised Crime Agency. Effectively it’s a British FBI. They target drug traffickers, international fraudsters, the big criminals that local forces can’t touch. Spider works for SOCA’s undercover unit, and Charlotte Button there is his boss.’

  ‘Nice legs,’ said Muller, approvingly.

  ‘You could try flattery, but from what I’ve heard it won’t get you anywhere,’ said Gannon.

  He shook Shepherd’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder as he welcomed him back to Dubai. Shepherd had time to whisper, ‘She knows everything,’ before Button joined them. She kept her hands at her sides and made no move to greet Gannon or Muller. She ignored the American and spoke directly to Gannon. ‘We need to talk,’ she said coldly.

  ‘Sure,’ said Gannon. He gestured at the exit. ‘We’ve a car waiting outside. We can talk back at the hotel.’

  ‘We can talk here,’ she said. ‘I’m on the next flight back to London.’

  Muller held out his hand. ‘Howdy,’ he said. ‘I’m John Muller.’

  Button looked at him disdainfully. ‘I know who you are, Mr Muller, and I know what you’re doing here. The less you talk to me, the better. Now, would you be so good as to take Mr Shepherd back to your hotel while I talk to the Major? Thank you.’ She turned away from the American and looked at Gannon again. ‘There’s a coffee shop over there,’ she said, nodding at the far side of the arrivals area.

  Muller and Shepherd headed for the exit, while Gannon walked with her to the coffee shop. She sat down at a corner table and crossed her legs. ‘I’ll have tea,’ she said. ‘Anything but Earl Grey.’

  Gannon went to the counter and ordered. He carried the cups to the table and sat down opposite her, his back ramrod straight. ‘Would you like something to eat?’ he asked.

  ‘I ate on the plane,’ she said. She picked up her spoon and stirred her tea slowly, even though she hadn’t put in any sugar. He waited for her to speak, knowing that anything he said would probably antagonise her.

  ‘It’s not often that words fail me,’ she said eventually. ‘I’ve had eight hours on the plane to think about what I was going to say to you and, frankly, I’m still at a loss. What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Whatever it takes,’ said Gannon. ‘One of my men is about to be executed and I’m not prepared to let that happen without a fight.’

  ‘But he’s not one of your men, is he?’ said Button. ‘Mitchell is a civil contractor. He hasn’t served with the Regiment for more than five years.’

  ‘Once Sass, always Sass,’ said Gannon.

  ‘Well, that’s very noble, Major, but the fact remains that Mitchell was in Iraq earning a thousand dollars a day for guarding an oil pipeline. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time for no other reason than that he was greedy. And now you’re putting your career on the line in some misguided attempt to drag his nuts out of the fire.’ She put the spoon back in the saucer. ‘Worse, you’ve co-opted one of my people into your venture. You’ve encouraged Spider to lie to me, throw away his career and risk his life. God damn you, Gannon, he’s a single parent. If anything happens to him, who’s going to look after his boy?’

  ‘It was his choice,’ said Gannon. ‘And the way I understand it, it was more omission than lying. He just didn’t tell you what he was doing.’

  ‘He spun me some line about needing time off to move house. That was a direct lie.’

  ‘And if he had asked your permission to come to Dubai to help rescue Mitchell, what would your reaction have been?’

  ‘This isn’t about who said what to whom,’ said Button. ‘You’ve no right to be out here, and neither has Spider. What happened to Geordie Mitchell is a nightmare, but that doesn’t give you the right to go charging in like International Rescue.’

  ‘If we don’t do something, he’ll die,’ said Gannon, flatly.

  ‘What about the Regiment?’ said Button.

  ‘If they knew where he was, they’d go in,’ said Gannon, ‘but we’ve no intel. And no prospect of getting it by conventional means.’

  ‘What you’re planning is madness, you know that?’

  ‘We’ve tried everything else.’

  ‘What have you tried?’

  ‘How much has Spider told you?’

  Button flashed him a tight smile. ‘There you go again, playing games. What does it matter how much he did or didn’t tell me? I’m not some pretty little secretary you can treat on a need-to-know basis.’

  ‘I don’t want to bore you with details you already have.’

  ‘No, you were planning damage limitation. Find out what I know already and do your level best not to tell me anything else. That’s not how this is going to work, Major Gannon.’ She held up her right index finger and thumb less than an inch apart. ‘I’m this close to making a phone call that will bring your world crashing down around you.’

  Gannon nodded slowly but didn’t say anything. He knew she held all the cards and it was up to her how she played them. He had the feeling that anything he said then would annoy her.

  ‘I’ve another axe to grind with you,’ said Button.

  ‘I’ve no doubt,’ said Gannon, drily.

  ‘I gather you were responsible for introducing Spider to Richard Yokely.’

  Gannon nodded.

  ‘What the hell were you thinking?’ said Button. ‘You know what Yokely does.’

  ‘He’s sort of CIA,’ said the Major.

  Button sneered at him with contempt. ‘You really do think I’ve got my head up my backside, don’t you? “Sort of CIA” is like saying that Stalin had a temper. You know he was with the Intelligence and Security Command?’

  Gannon nodded. ‘Yes. AKA the Tactical Concept Activity.’

  ‘That’s right, they do love to play with words, don’t they?’

  ‘The guys on the Activity tried to get it renamed the Strategic Operations Brigade so that they could call themselves SOBs.’

  ‘I heard that,’ said Button. ‘I also heard that Yokely left the Activity to join Grey Fox. You do know what Grey Fox is, don’t you?’

  The Major sighed. ‘A presidential assassination squad,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Finally I’m getting something approaching candour from you,’ said Button. She sat back and folded her arms. ‘Yes. Yokely worked for a black unit tasked with assassination. Now he’s moved on from Grey Fox to a place that’s so off the radar I don’t think it even has a name. Please don’t insult my intelligence by telling me that he’s “sort of CIA”. Richard Yokely is a very dangerous man.’

  ‘He wanted to meet Spider after what happened down the Tube when he shot the suicide-bomber.’

  ‘Yokely wants Spider to work for him – you know that?’

  ‘I guessed as much,’ said Gannon. ‘But Yokely told me he wanted an introduction, that’s all.’

  ‘And you were happy enough to give one, were you?’

  ‘I’ve known Yokely for almost ten years. And Spider’s big enough to take care of himself. I’m not in the business of nannying anyone, Charlotte.’

  Button’s eyes narrowed. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting I’m nannying him because that is most definitely not what is happening here,’ she said. ‘Richard Yokely is a devious bastard. You know he took Spider to Baghdad on a rendition flight?’

  ‘We needed to question so
meone there.’

  ‘Yokely was perfectly capable of handling the interrogation himself. Why do you think he wanted Spider with him?’

  The Major said nothing.

  ‘You know what I think? I think Yokely wanted Spider with him because he knew I’d find out and that when I did I’d sack Spider, so he’d be looking for a job. He set Spider up.’

  ‘I don’t see it that way,’ said the Major. ‘We asked Yokely for help and he came through.’

  ‘Yokely only helps people if there’s a payback,’ said Button. ‘I’m just looking after the best interests of one of my people. One of my team.’

  ‘Same here,’ said Gannon.

  ‘Do you have any idea how many laws you’ve broken so far?’ said Button. ‘Have you given any thought to what will happen if you’re caught?’

  ‘We won’t be caught,’ said Gannon. ‘But if we were, we’d take whatever they throw at us.’

  ‘Your career counts for nothing? Because if this ever gets out, you’re history. No more Increment, no more Regiment. You wouldn’t be able to get a job watching over a building site.’

  ‘My career counts for nothing if my men can’t depend on me,’ said Gannon, ‘and that’s a two-way street. If it was me in that basement wearing an orange jumpsuit, I’d expect my men to come and get me. There’s a loyalty in the Regiment that goes beyond Queen and country, Charlotte, and you wouldn’t understand it.’

  ‘Screw you, Gannon,’ said Button, bitterly. ‘I demonstrate my loyalty by never lying to my people and by watching their backs. That’s why I’m here, to protect Spider. To make sure you don’t burn him.’

  ‘I’m not going to burn him,’ said Gannon. ‘We’re here to do a job. And if it all turns to shit I’ll walk away from my career without a second thought. And if you want to pull the plug on what we’re doing, then go ahead. I’m sure you know who to call.’

  ‘Damn right I know who to call,’ she said. ‘I might not have your famous satellite phone by my side, but the Home Secretary takes my calls and I still have a lot of friends at Five.’

  ‘Don’t threaten me, Charlotte. You do what you have to do. But if you make that call, Geordie’s blood will be on your hands.’

  Button glared at Gannon. ‘Don’t even think about laying some sort of guilt trip on me,’ she said. ‘I’m not the one holding him hostage.’

  ‘No, but we’re his only hope of getting out alive. The government isn’t doing anything, his company has done all it can. If we don’t do something, Geordie will die. And that’s not going to happen on my watch.’

  Button sipped her tea and grimaced.

  ‘Not good?’ asked Gannon.

  ‘I’m not here for the tea,’ she said, putting her cup on the table. ‘This scheme you and Spider have cooked up, do you think you stand a chance of pulling it off?’

  ‘It’s been planned before, but never tried,’ said Gannon. ‘A couple of years back, a group of ex-SAS and Delta Force guys were chasing a twenty-five-million-dollar reward for al-Zarqawi. The Americans wanted him badly so they’d put the reward out. But no one knew where he was. He was as well hidden as Bin Laden. That was when one of the SAS guys came up with the idea of using a GPS-enabled chip as a tracking device, implanting it in someone and using them as bait. They already had a guy lined up to be chipped. He was to get ten million because of the risks.’

  ‘That’s apocryphal,’ said Button. ‘An urban myth.’

  ‘Spider knows one of the guys,’ said Gannon.

  ‘I’m sure a group of idiots was wandering around talking about it, but I can tell you that the technology isn’t there yet. It’s in development, and I’ve no doubt that it’ll come, but right now there isn’t anything small enough to be implantable.’

  ‘I bow to your superior knowledge,’ said Gannon. ‘I’m sure if it was available MI5 would be using it.’

  ‘We can tag vehicles and equipment with GPS trackers,’ said Button, ‘but it’s the battery size that precludes subcutaneous transmitters. They’re small and they’re getting smaller year by year, but there’s still a way to go.’

  ‘Well, you live and learn,’ said Gannon.

  ‘Supposing you do find out where they’re holding Mitchell, what then? You’ll need manpower.’

  ‘Once we’ve got a location, we can call on the Regiment, or if time’s an issue we can bring in the coalition forces. Prior to that, there’s three others with me and Spider, all guys who have worked with Geordie, and John Muller. He’s got a team in place in Iraq, mainly South African mercenaries they use for armed protection. Half a dozen. So, twelve in all.’

  ‘And you think that’ll be enough? The Dirty Dozen?’

  ‘Too many and we’ll stick out. This is only going to work if they think Spider’s out there on his own.’

  ‘And when do you plan to go in?’

  ‘I guess that’s up to you,’ said Gannon.

  ‘I’ve already told you, none of this is on my shoulders,’ said Button.

  ‘But without your acquiescence we can’t go ahead.’

  Button nodded thoughtfully. She picked up her teacup again, saw that a dark scum had started to form on the surface, and put it down. ‘What you’re planning is madness,’ she said. ‘I’ve already told Spider so. And I’ve also told him that his responsibilities as a father outweigh his loyalty to a former colleague.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that,’ said Gannon. ‘Geordie saved Spider’s life in Afghanistan.’

  ‘I know what happened in Afghanistan,’ said Button, brusquely. ‘That was a war zone and Mitchell did what any other soldier would have done.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Gannon. ‘But Spider’s not for turning on this.’

  ‘You’re all as bad as each other,’ said Button. ‘You want to be bloody heroes. It’s the testosterone coursing through your veins.’

  ‘Spider reckons he owes Geordie a debt, and I can understand that.’

  Button gave him a withering look. ‘I’m not saying I don’t understand what he’s doing,’ she said, ‘but just because what he’s doing is understandable doesn’t make it any less suicidal.’

  ‘He’ll have back-up.’

  ‘At the last count there were about a hundred and fifty thousand coalition troops in Iraq, and the death toll rises every day. Back-up counts for nothing there. What counts is not putting yourself at risk.’

  ‘Spider’s a pro. He’ll be doing for me what he does for you. Playing a role. We’ll be watching over him every step of the way. When they take him they’ll want to keep him alive so long as he’s useful to them.’

  ‘Fourteen days.’

  ‘You say that like it’s a death sentence, but it’s not. It’s a window of opportunity. Nothing will happen to him during those fourteen days.’

  ‘Other than that he’ll be in the hands of men who’ll think nothing of hacking off his head. I don’t even know why I’m here.’

  ‘Because you know we’re doing the right thing,’ said Gannon, quietly. ‘Because if one of your people was out there, you’d be moving heaven and earth to get them back.’

  Button put her hand up to her face and massaged the bridge of her nose as if she was trying to ward off a headache. ‘If he dies …’

  ‘He won’t,’ said Gannon.

  ‘You can’t promise that,’ said Button.

  ‘I can promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him alive,’ he said. ‘Are you going to allow us to proceed? Or are you going to make that phone call?’

  Button took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘Do what you have to do,’ she said.

  ‘What’s happening about the equipment?’ asked Gannon.

  ‘I’ve allowed Spider to take what he needs. He has two small GPS trackers. One can be fitted into a shoe, the other is more powerful but bigger so I’ve no idea where you can put it that it won’t be discovered. The equipment’s untraceable. There’s nothing that will lead back to us.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Gannon.

  Butt
on stood up. ‘Don’t thank me,’ she said. ‘I am vehemently opposed to what you’re doing, but I sympathise with your motives. I want one thing understood, though. No more going behind my back with one of my men – with any of them. If they work for me they answer to me, and if you want to start playing fast and loose with them you talk to me first.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Gannon. ‘And if anything should go wrong, we never had this conversation.’

  ‘Don’t do me any favours,’ she said. ‘I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.’

  ‘I can see that,’ said Gannon.

  ‘Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere,’ said Button. She walked away, heels clicking on the tiled floor.

  Gannon sighed. He had the feeling he’d got off lightly.

  The flight from Dubai to Baghdad was on a chartered Boeing 727 and there wasn’t a single female passenger on board. Muller had a dozen of his people on the plane, most of whom were former American soldiers heading back to Iraq after a week’s R&R. Shepherd sat next to him close to the front of the plane. As it taxied for take-off, Muller took a pair of reading glasses out of his jacket pocket, a sheaf of papers from a leather briefcase and began to read, occasionally making marks in the margin with a gold fountain pen.

  After an hour a stewardess in a tight-fitting green uniform handed out plastic trays with finger sandwiches, followed by a colleague offering coffee or tea. Shepherd passed on the food and the drink. Muller took a cheese sandwich and put away his paperwork. ‘This is your first time in Baghdad, right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Shepherd. The lie came easily. He doubted that Yokely would want too many people knowing that he had been a passenger on a rendition flight. ‘Although I was in Afghanistan when I was with the Regiment. Another life.’

  ‘Iraq’s not dissimilar,’ said Muller. ‘The difference is that before Saddam Iraq was a decent enough country. He ran it into the ground.’

  ‘The Major said you were special forces. Delta Force, yeah?’

  ‘On the fringes,’ said Muller. ‘Again, it was another life. I was in Vietnam, way back when. Part of the Phoenix Program. Winning hearts and minds and throwing Viet Cong out of helicopters when that didn’t work.’