by Rob Sinclair
‘My God, Logan,’ Grainger said, putting a hand to her mouth in shock. ‘Your face. We need to get you seen to.’
He kept his head down, not looking at her. He couldn’t bring himself to. He felt ashamed. But he didn’t know of what. What he had done to Lorik? Or what Lorik had done to her?
He stole a glance at her. As well as her ripped and dirtied clothes there were tears streaming down her face. Her bottom lip was cracked and bleeding, her left cheek swollen and red.
‘Are you okay?’ he said.
‘Not really. But I’m more concerned about you. Look at the state of you.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He wasn’t sure what for, but he was. She didn’t say anything to that.
They began walking, pulling each other along.
‘Thank you,’ she said, after a minute or two.
‘For what?’
‘You saved my life.’
He didn’t respond. Right now, he certainly didn’t feel like the hero.
Beyond the throbbing, he could still feel the tremors in his hands. He looked down at them. His knuckles had been rubbed raw. Opening and closing his fists was a struggle, but nothing seemed to be broken.
‘You think those are bad, you should see your face,’ Grainger said.
‘Nothing a needle and thread won’t solve,’ Logan said.
‘We’re getting you to a doctor.’
‘No!’ he shouted, stopping. ‘I’m not going to a doctor. We’ll do it.’
‘With what?’
‘Just get us to a pharmacy.’
They carried on and reached her car. He didn’t know how she’d found the way back. He wasn’t sure he could have done that.
‘Do you have a GPS?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Okay. Grab that. We’ll take my car.’
Before they left, they moved Lorik’s car into the field, behind Grainger’s, so that both cars were more or less hidden from the road. They didn’t want Lorik’s friends finding the body. That would almost certainly make the kidnappers panic and run. And they would possibly kill Modena before they did so. Logan spent a few minutes propping the fence back up. He wasn’t convinced it would hold for long. Hopefully they wouldn’t need it to.
The GPS showed that there was a chemist’s ten miles away. It was six o’clock, so with a bit of luck it would still be open. Grainger insisted on driving. They carried on down the road, past the sunflower fields. The scenery soon opened out once more.
Logan felt uncomfortable the whole way. He wasn’t sure what he should be saying or doing. The way he’d been in the field, with Lorik, he’d never felt like that before. So disconnected from his own body.
What was she thinking about him now?
What he’d done hadn’t just been about saving her. But how could he explain that to someone he’d only just met? He couldn’t even explain it to himself. And now that it was over, it almost felt like he was the victim of something. It made him feel like a fraud that she was showing concern for him.
He wasn’t the victim. She was.
He might have a few wounds, but they were more or less self-inflicted. She’d nearly been killed by that psycho. She would have been if he hadn’t turned up. And he didn’t even want to think about what else Lorik would have done to her.
She had suffered more than he had.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he said to her.
‘No, Logan. I’m really not.’
Without taking her attention off the road, or breaking her grip on the steering wheel, she broke down in tears. She didn’t even try to wipe them from her face as they cascaded down, falling from her chin onto her muddied and torn clothes.
‘But thank you,’ she said. ‘I really mean that. God, look at me. How pathetic is this? I don’t do crying.’
Finally she wiped at her eyes.
‘Believe me, everyone does crying,’ Logan said. He knew that better than most.
Chapter 31
‘What are we going to do, Winter?’ Mackie said.
He was sitting in his office, staring out of the window at the murky River Thames down below, his chair facing away from his desk at the other side of which Winter was sitting. He didn’t often ask Winter for an opinion on anything, usually content that he knew the best course of action, but this time he really was at a loss. Mackie had been confident that Logan was up to the job, that it was the right time, or maybe he had just hoped that was the case; but with the unexpected involvement of Youssef Selim, the playing field had changed considerably.
Mackie had no doubt that Logan would still crack the case. That he would find Modena. But at what price? He would probably kill Selim and anyone else who stood in his way in the process. Could Mackie afford to let him do that? And Logan was drawing so much attention to himself with his reckless actions that it was becoming a full-time job just to keep the French authorities at bay, not to mention the JIA committee.
‘Surely the best thing now is to pull Logan off,’ Winter said.
Mackie was well aware that Winter had never been a fan of Logan, and vice versa. Winter would make a fine commander one day, but stripping away the confidence and arrogance he was a very different person to Mackie. Winter needed structure and rules and order. Mackie relied on gut instincts, as did Logan. It was easy to see, therefore, why Winter and Logan didn’t gel.
Eighteen years ago Mackie’s gut had told him that Logan was an ideal candidate to be a field agent, and he’d been right. In fact, Logan had been the best agent he’d ever had, and the best there was in the JIA. Until they’d gone after Selim, that was.
His gut instinct was that Logan could still be a successful field agent. But Mackie knew that his opinion was becoming harder and harder to defend.
‘Take him off to save face for JIA or to help solve this case?’ Mackie said.
‘Both,’ Winter answered, after thinking about the question for a moment. ‘We already have the leads. Let someone else finish this off, before too much damage is done. This case could be the end of Logan. The way it’s going, it could be the end of us.’
‘No, however this pans out, it’s on me and me alone.’ Mackie didn’t want Winter being drawn into a mess that was of his making.
‘I don’t think Lindegaard sees it that way,’ Winter said. ‘He’s going after Logan, no doubt about it.’
‘Certainly seems that way.’
‘They’ve got previous history, you know, Lindegaard and Logan.’
Mackie raised an eyebrow and swivelled around to face Winter. He knew all about Lindegaard’s history with Logan. But how did Winter know?
Winter must have picked up on the perplexed look on Mackie’s face. ‘You may not have known about it. I had to dig into Lindegaard’s past to find the link. Twelve years ago he was working on a big case to crack a smuggling ring in central America. The CIA’s case collapsed literally overnight. There was a lot of embarrassment for the Americans at the time because they’d invested heavily in it. The reason it crashed was because their lead informant disappeared. It was assumed his cover had been blown and he’d been taken out by the gang leaders. But actually Logan killed him as part of a JIA mission.’
‘I remember it,’ Mackie said. They’d only become party to the adjacent CIA case afterwards. Logan’s instructions had been clear: tear the ring apart quickly and quietly. And that was exactly what he’d done. ‘Lindegaard was running the CIA’s lead agent on that case. Apparently it took him years to recover his reputation – they’d been working on it for months and then, in a matter of weeks, Logan brought the whole gang down. The CIA were expecting it to be a huge coup for them. As it was, the smuggling ring disintegrated once we became involved, taken to pieces one person at a time.’
‘You knew about this?’ Winter queried.
‘I’ve worked on every case that Logan has ever been on. Of course I know.’
And Mackie also knew it wasn’t the only time Lindegaard and Logan had crossed paths. But he wasn
’t going to go into that with Winter.
‘I’m impressed with your digging,’ Mackie said, turning his chair back around to look out onto the river, as he often did when pondering, ‘and it clearly explains some of Lindegaard’s behaviour. But I’m still at a loss as to what to do here.’
‘Take Logan off the case. Limit the damage for all of us.’
It was the clear and obvious choice. But Mackie got the sense that even if he made that decision, Logan may still go after Selim. Would they not be better to stick with him so that the job was done properly?
‘There must be another way,’ Mackie mused.
‘We could leave him on,’ Winter suggested. ‘I’m sure we’d get Modena if we did, and probably more quickly than using anyone else. But I’m thinking about how to do this while maintaining our own reputations too. Lindegaard is gunning for Logan. At least if we agree to take Logan off now, then we can insist on using one of our agents as a replacement. Much better that way than have Lindegaard force it on us down the line and throw someone else in.’
Mackie thought about what Winter had said. It was a valid point. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting.
‘The least worst option,’ Mackie said, thinking out loud.
‘Exactly. And at least we get to keep control that way.’
‘Control of what?’ said an unexpected voice from the back of the room.
Mackie spun around in his chair to see Jay Lindegaard and John Sanderson standing in the doorway of his office. He hadn’t heard them open the door.
‘None of your goddamn business!’ Mackie shouted, getting to his feet. ‘This is my office and you bleeding well knock if you want to come in.’
‘Sorry, Charles,’ Sanderson said timidly as he shut the office door. ‘But we need to speak. Urgently.’
Lindegaard turned to glare at Sanderson. ‘There’s no need to apologise,’ he said, before turning his gaze back to Mackie. ‘You’re answerable to us and I asked you a very simple question. So what are you trying to keep control of, Charles?’
Mackie sat down on his chair. ‘I said it’s none of your business. Now what do you want?’
‘What do you think?’ Lindegaard said, no hint of pleasantness in his voice or demeanour. The two unwelcome visitors made their way towards the desk. ‘We want to talk about your cock-up of an agent. This must be a record, surely, for one of our agents to be wanted for four civilian murders after less than three days on a case?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jay. You simply have no idea.’
‘Then tell me how it is, please do.’
‘Logan is out there doing a job that you or I never could. Have you any idea what it takes to put yourself, your life, on the line like that?’
‘Yes, I’m sure he’s very brave and we can all commend him for that. But he’s in danger of making a fool of this entire organisation.’
‘Oh, come off your high horse. I’m sure you’ve overseen much bigger messes than this,’ Mackie said, glancing over at Winter, who shot his gaze downwards, clearly not wanting to get involved.
‘What does that mean?’ Lindegaard said, offended.
‘And those civilians, as you put it,’ Mackie said, ‘are all people implicated in the kidnapping of Frank Modena.’
‘This isn’t some revenge mission where you kill your way to the end goal,’ Sanderson said.
His intervention surprised Mackie. He’d thought it was only Lindegaard he was up against, but maybe not.
‘Exactly,’ Lindegaard added. ‘I don’t care how close Logan is, he’s off this case. And that’s it.’
The room suddenly fell silent as Mackie, Lindegaard and Sanderson paused for breath. Winter looked up at his boss and all eyes in the room were on Mackie.
‘That’s it?’ Mackie said.
‘The decision has already been made, Charles,’ Sanderson said apologetically. ‘We’ve reassigned the case.’
‘Do you realise it’s Frank Modena’s life you’re playing with here?’ Winter piped up, to the surprise of everyone in the room. ‘Any delay in getting to him could cost him his life.’
Lindegaard turned his stony scowl to Winter. Sanderson was open-mouthed. Mackie was beaming inside that his aide had jumped in to back him up. Not only to back Mackie up, but Logan too.
‘And just who the hell asked for your opinion?’ Lindegaard thundered.
‘It’s not an opinion,’ Mackie said, banging his fist on the desk, redirecting Lindegaard’s anger away from Winter. ‘It’s a fact. You put someone new on the case and all you’re doing is delaying getting to Modena. And for what? So you can save us all a little bit of bad press?’
‘You two are incredible,’ Lindegaard said, shaking his head. ‘Can you really not see the mess that Logan is causing here?’
‘From where I’m sitting, he’s doing exactly what’s expected of him,’ Mackie said. His defences were up now. Screw the least worst option. He wasn’t going to back down to Lindegaard. He wasn’t going to abandon Logan like everyone else was prepared to.
‘I’m sorry, Charles,’ Sanderson chimed in, ‘it really is too late. The case has already been reassigned.’
Winter jumped in again. ‘Then at least let us choose the new lead. Someone we know so we can make this as smooth as possible. Time isn’t on our side here.’
‘You must have misunderstood me,’ Lindegaard said, a mocking smile creeping up his face. ‘I said the case has been reassigned. Logan is off the case. And so are you two.’
Mackie shot up out of his chair.
‘Get out of my office!’ he yelled, gesticulating toward the door.
‘Charles, come on –’
‘Now!’ Mackie boomed.
‘Okay, we’re done here,’ Lindegaard said. ‘I’ll leave it up to you to inform Logan and to bring him back in. My man is on his way to France as we speak.’
Mackie spun his chair around as the two committee members got to their feet. They turned and walked out of the office, shutting the door behind them.
Mackie stood staring into space, embarrassed as much as he was angry.
‘Sir, do you want me to call Logan?’ Winter queried.
Mackie didn’t respond. He walked around the desk, over to his office door, opened it, peered outside to make sure no-one was milling around and closed it again. He then went back to his seat at the desk.
‘Sir?’
‘No. Don’t call Logan.’
‘So you’re going to call him?’
Mackie didn’t answer straight away. His mind was whirring. He scratched at his goatee as he thought. This wasn’t over. He wasn’t giving up on Logan. Screw Lindegaard. There had to be another way.
‘Winter, are you with me on this?’
Winter hesitated for only a second before saying, ‘Of course.’
‘Good. Then we’re going to do everything we can to help Logan.’
‘But … I mean –’
‘You’re with me, right?’ Mackie said, halting Winter by holding up a hand.
‘Yes.’
‘Then let’s bring this thing home. Logan stays out there until it’s done.’
‘Understood,’ Winter confirmed, looking just a little wary. ‘But aren’t you worried about what that means for us?’
‘We’ll be just fine,’ Mackie said with the faintest hint of a grin. ‘I’ve got a good sense for these things.’
Winter had been right: Lindegaard was gunning for Logan. And the longer Mackie defied him, the more desperate he was going to get.
‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘I want you to keep close to Lindegaard, keep an eye on his every move. I want to know all there is to know about who he’s put on this case and what their brief is. And keep digging into Lindegaard’s past. See what you can find that might help us.’
Mackie knew that not only was Winter an excellent commander in the making, but he was also incredibly tech savvy. In his youth he’d been an amateur hacker – part of a ring of nerd
s who would hack large corporations and institutions just for the challenge and thrill of it. And both men understood what Mackie’s instructions entailed.
‘I’ll get on it right away.’
‘Good. We’re going to have to clutch at whatever straws you can find. Because have no doubts that this is going to blow up in our faces. And when it does, we’re going to need as much dirt on Lindegaard as we can get.’
Chapter 32
It was dark by the time they’d picked up the medical supplies. Although frustrated by the prospect, Logan had to concede that it would be better to get his wounds seen to before heading to Blakemore’s. Plus both he and Grainger needed the rest. They ran the risk of Blakemore and the others involved being spooked by Lorik’s disappearance, but the day’s events had taken its toll on both of them. Even though Logan’s wounds weren’t completely debilitating, he was certainly not in good enough shape to be off confronting anyone else right now.
As well as the pharmacy, they’d also managed to find a shop where Grainger had bought them both clean clothes: some tennis shoes, jeans and a non-descript blue pullover for her and a similar outfit for Logan, albeit with a grey V-neck jumper.
They needed somewhere to stay, but overnight options in the area were limited. The only suitable place they could find was a modern, three-storey roadside lodge. It was cheap and functional but big enough to allow them to remain relatively inconspicuous. In a much smaller place they would have stuck out like a sore thumb.
As with the pharmacy and clothes shop, it was Grainger who went into the reception to get the rooms, while Logan waited in the car. She had now changed out of her damaged clothes but her fat lip and swollen cheek meant that she looked anything but discreet. Logan though, with gaping wounds in his face and covered in blood, looked a damn sight worse and would have certainly aroused suspicions.
Grainger came back from the hotel reception and they made their way towards the second floor.
‘I got one room for us to share,’ she said.
She looked up at him. Gone was that smile that had lit her face up so much earlier in the day. She looked in pain. Frightened as well.