by Rob Sinclair
What really worried him, though, was what would happen to Grainger.
‘It’s not Grainger’s fault,’ Logan said. ‘I insisted on her coming.’
‘You may have done, but how did you know that Selim would be here in the first place?’ Mackie asked.
Logan didn’t answer.
‘I think I know what that means. Agent Grainger’s got herself into a lot of trouble and there’s nothing you or I can do to help her now.’
Mackie sighed and put his hands on his hips. Logan sensed that he was calming down.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you’ve done exactly what I would expect you to. And that’s why I brought you into this. Just don’t let me hear you passing that on to this lot. They don’t see the world the same way as you and I do.’
Logan had to smile at that. Mackie knew better than anyone how this job worked. He was the one who’d trained Logan, after all. It certainly wouldn’t go down as Logan’s most successful mission – he was well aware of the chaos that seemed to have followed him around for the last few days. But he’d got there now. It was all over.
Except that wasn’t quite true. Logan thought again about Selim’s dying words.
‘This isn’t over, Mackie,’ Logan said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We still need to find who was behind this, behind Modena’s kidnapping.’
‘Logan, they’re all dead. Everyone is dead! Just who do you think is still out there?’
‘Someone who would pay a lot of money for a name that Modena had.’
‘What? Where’d all this come from?’
‘Selim.’
‘You’re taking advice from a madman now?’
‘It all makes sense,’ Logan said, his tone not hiding his offence at Mackie’s having so brazenly dismissed what he was saying. ‘Someone paid them to kidnap Modena. Someone who had a lot to gain from information that Modena had.’
‘Okay, okay. I’ll mention it to Evans. They’re still piecing together Blakemore’s life. If there’s anything out there, sooner or later we’ll find it.’
‘Let me help. I need to finish this.’
‘Not yet.’ Mackie put a hand on Logan’s good shoulder. ‘I’ve arranged for you to stay at a private clinic for a couple of days while they check out your arm. You need to rest and build your strength back up.’
‘And then what?’
‘And then we’ll see.’
‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘For everything.’
Mackie looked embarrassed by Logan’s comment. ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Get some rest. Fagan here will take you to the clinic, keep an eye on you.’
On cue, a brutish-looking man, a good couple of inches taller than Logan and dressed in a smart dark-blue suit, walked into view. He may have been another of Mackie’s agents, or perhaps he was just some hired muscle. Logan hadn’t seen or heard of him before.
‘What, you got me another babysitter?’ Logan said, eyeing up his competition. ‘Thanks a lot.’
Fagan looked insulted, but didn’t say anything.
‘Just play nicely, you two,’ Mackie said. ‘You’re on the same team.’
Mackie left them to it without another word.
‘I don’t like it any more than you do,’ Fagan said. ‘Come on, let’s go. The car’s waiting.’
Logan stood up off the gurney, took a second to steady himself in his drugged-up state, then headed off with Fagan to the waiting car. He spotted Grainger, tail between her legs, talking to two suited men. Her eyes caught his and he smiled at her. But she just looked away, down at her feet, not showing any reaction to having seen him.
He walked on to the car.
Yes, Selim was dead. But, to his surprise, he was finding it hard to feel any joy at the current situation. What would happen to Grainger? What would be the consequences for her FBI career? Was Modena going to survive? And just what information had Modena given away that had cost someone eight million dollars?
More than anything, whatever the answers to those questions, Logan just hoped against hope that he’d get the chance to see Grainger again.
Chapter 55
10th October
When Logan opened his eyes, the world in front of him was blurred and swirling. He squinted to try to bring it into focus.
He was lying in a bed. The room was not one he immediately recognised and it took a few seconds to recall what had happened and where he was.
‘Welcome back.’
A woman’s voice. At first he couldn’t place it. The drugs were making his brain cloudy and confused. But then he remembered where he knew the voice from. He’d been dreaming about her.
Not a nightmare. A real dream.
As his senses returned, he saw he was lying on a hospital bed, white sheets draped over him. To his side were various machines and monitors, none of which seemed to be turned on. A drip bag was attached by a tube to a cannula in his hand. Other than that, a sink and a closed white cabinet, the room was bare.
He tried to sit up, pushing on the bed with his elbows. But he had forgotten about his injured shoulder and he cried out as pain sliced through him.
‘How did you find me?’ he said, after waiting for the shooting pain to subside.
‘I asked your boss,’ said Grainger.
‘He told you?’
‘Yeah. Are you surprised at that?’
‘Very. I’m surprised he even spoke to you.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t underestimate him.’
Logan never had.
‘Do you think you could get me some water?’ he said.
‘Yeah, sure. God, where are my manners? I should have asked.’
She wandered over to the sink and came back with a paper cup full of chilled water. The liquid was so cold it made Logan’s teeth hurt, but it perked him up a little.
‘What time is it?’ he asked.
‘It’s about five o’clock in the afternoon. You’ve been asleep for almost two days. They’ve had you pretty drugged up.’
‘That’s their ploy to keep me here.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like crap. My head feels like a balloon. My arm feels like there’re razor blades in it. I’m hungry. And thirsty. But other than that, I’m fine. In fact, I’m ready to get out of here. I hadn’t planned on staying this long.’
‘Your personal security guard might have something to say about that.’
She indicated to the door. Logan could see Fagan through the glass, standing outside the door with his arms folded.
‘Oh, him. Don’t worry about him. So what’s happened to you? Are you still in a job?’
She fiddled with her hair, rubbed her cheek. Signs of tension.
‘Officially I’m suspended. But that’s not bad, all things considered. They could have thrown me out straight off. But my boss recognised how well we’d moved things forward. Everyone believes that Selim would have tortured and killed Modena. I’m not saying anyone is happy with how this has turned out, but I think they’re at least realistic that things could have been much worse.’
‘And we got Selim. That’s got to count for something.’
‘Actually it seems that’s being played down. There’s a lot of embarrassment and uncertainty over how he became involved in the first place. The French are desperate to keep quiet the fact that one of the world’s most wanted men smuggled himself into their country. Plus both the French and the Feds are a little uneasy about how he died.’
‘What do you mean?’
She rubbed at her neck again.
‘Well, you know.’
‘Not really. Spit it out.’
‘You killed an unarmed man, Carl. A defenceless, unarmed man.’
‘He wasn’t defenceless when he shot me through the shoulder.’
‘Logan, I know that. But you know how these things get portrayed. A story’s a story. People are saying it was an execution.
’
Logan shifted on the bed, anger immediately boiling up inside him. He knew questions would be asked about the manner of Selim’s death, but to hear it from Grainger’s mouth was hard to take.
‘Well, it’s not like you tried to stop me,’ Logan snapped. ‘I saw you standing there, watching.’
Grainger’s cheeks turned red and she bowed her head. Logan thought he could see tears welling in her eyes and immediately he felt bad. He and he alone had made the decision to kill Selim. He couldn’t try to pin the blame on anyone else.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just hard to hear how people can twist things.’
‘Look, I know why you did it and I know he deserved it,’ Grainger said. ‘But not everyone sees the world like you do. But that’s why everyone is trying to downplay Selim’s death. The authorities don’t want or need the heat. And I’m sure you don’t.’
‘I can handle it. It wouldn’t be the first time. Anyway, how’s Modena?’
‘He’s in a coma. But he’s alive. He may or may not recover, but we saved him.’
Logan felt tangible relief at that.
‘And if we hadn’t got to him when we did,’ he said, ‘well, I guess it could have been much worse.’
Logan winced at his own words. It was like he was trying his hardest to justify the outcome to himself. And that made him angry. It wasn’t usual for him to feel awkward in Grainger’s presence, but right now he felt like a failure. Yes, he’d got Selim, but at what cost? Modena may be alive, but what if he was nothing more than a vegetable? And it was clear that not everyone was going to be congratulatory over the nature of Selim’s demise.
What if he had just taken the chance when they were at Blakemore’s and gone for Modena rather than the bad guys? Just like Grainger had said they should. It was him who had insisted on doing it his way. He was responsible for how things had turned out.
‘It’s not your fault, Logan. None of this is,’ Grainger said. Perhaps she had recognised the look of discontent on his face. ‘You didn’t notice it, did you?’ she added.
‘Notice what?’
‘When we were at that house. Before you went in, and even after the fighting had stopped, I was looking at your hands. There were no tremors. Nothing at all.’
He thought back to the fight. He hadn’t noticed that. When he had been pointing the gun at Selim, his hands had been shaking so hard it had been difficult to focus. But, thinking about it now, he hadn’t noticed tremors at all at any other time. Maybe she was right. Maybe it had only been the adrenaline and anticipation causing the shaking when he confronted Selim.
Either way, it meant a lot to him that she had noticed.
‘And you can’t tell me that it wasn’t a stressful situation,’ she added. ‘So while you might not be happy with how things are right now, your hands are telling me a different story. We’ve already saved Modena. Selim is dead. And your body is telling me that you and your head might be on the road to recovery. And I think, deep down, you know that’s the case.’
She could read him better than he could read himself. Selim being dead made a huge difference to his life. But there was more than that. A big part of his recent recovery was also down to her.
‘You might be right,’ he said. ‘But I have to finish this first.’
‘Finish what?’ Grainger said, surprised.
‘I need to find out who paid Blakemore and Selim in the first place. What it was they kidnapped Modena for.’
‘You still think that’s the case? That there was someone else behind this?’
‘I’m convinced.’
‘I’m not sure the Feds are. Our investigation has been closed down. As far as we’re concerned, it’s all over.’
Logan raised an eyebrow at that. It wasn’t what he had expected at all. Was that really true? Or now that Modena had been rescued had Grainger reverted to type and this was now her speaking with her formal FBI hat on, not wanting to give the game away?
‘So what are you going to do next?’ he said.
‘I have to stick around here for a few days. They’re bringing some of the bigwigs over from America. Debriefing this one is going to be a long haul. We’re talking days rather than hours.’
‘And the suspension? What does that mean?’
‘That I’m on leave until they say otherwise. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be needed. I think they’ll be picking my brains a fair bit.’
‘By the way, where are we?’ he asked.
The last thing he remembered was being in the car leaving the scene at Dunkirk. Soon after that, the drugs they’d given him, more morphine and a sedative he’d not heard of, had knocked him out and he’d no idea what had happened to him since.
‘Now? We’re in Paris again. Montparnasse.’
‘You’re staying in Paris still?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Great. Then why don’t we get out of here?’ he said.
‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’
‘Just try to stop me.’
He threw the covers off himself and got to his feet. He had to hold his arms out to balance while his brain got to grips with what he was doing. The sedatives they had given him were certainly still in his system.
Grainger burst out laughing. At him.
‘What’s so funny?’ he said, offended.
‘You look like one of those wobbly baby deer or something. And I can see your big red baboon ass sticking out.’
He looked down. He was wearing a light-blue hospital gown. It stopped at the waist at the back, exposing his rear.
‘Where the hell are my clothes?’ he said, unable to hide his embarrassment. Even Fagan, on the other side of the door, who had turned his attention to them in the commotion, struggled not to break his usual deadpan stare.
‘I’ll go check.’
She carried on laughing as she went out of the room.
Wiping the smirk from his face, Fagan came into the room just as she left.
‘Logan, you’re not supposed to leave this place until I’ve heard from Mackie.’
‘You going to stop me?’ Logan said.
Fagan shrugged, unfazed. ‘No. I couldn’t care less. But I’ll call it straight in if you go.’
‘That’s hardly going to make a difference to me, is it?’
‘It really doesn’t bother me. I’m here to look out for you. If you don’t want my help then it’s on you.’
‘You’d better call Mackie, then. Tell him I’ll come and see him later.’
Fagan shrugged again and left the room.
Grainger returned a minute later with a pile of crisp new clothes: linen trousers and a light blue shirt. Mackie’s choice, no doubt.
It took Logan a while to get dressed. Having one arm that was more or less immobile made everything ten times as hard as normal. He had got used to it years ago when he’d been shot in the arm, but it wasn’t really something he’d carried on practising once that wound had healed.
Grainger offered to help but, stubborn as ever, he refused.
Finally, he was ready to go.
As Logan walked out of the room, Fagan came back up to him. ‘I spoke to Mackie. He says he wants you at the safe house at nine a.m. tomorrow.’
‘Fine,’ Logan said.
‘Oh, and he said to bring along your passport.’
‘Which one? And what for?’
‘Dunno. He just said you’d be going to America.’
Chapter 56
12th October
After leaving the clinic with a suite of medical supplies that would hopefully keep Logan mobile, they had initially thought about heading to Grainger’s hotel, on the other side of town. But the fact that her FBI colleagues were also staying there had persuaded them otherwise. Instead, they had found a low-budget option nearby. And after heading out for some much needed food they’d spent the rest of that evening in bed together, only going to sleep in the early hours of the morning. The next day, too, had come and gone with them barely l
eaving the bed. Logan had called in to Mackie, rather than heading to the safe house as requested, and his boss, although hesitant, had okayed a further twenty-four hours’ rest. Not that Logan or Grainger had rested much.
It had been an amazing two nights. Grainger couldn’t believe just how relaxed they had both become in each other’s company. And how Logan seemed to be almost a changed man from the complex mess she’d met just five days ago.
But this morning, Grainger felt altogether different. And not just about the prospect of Logan leaving for America. What was bothering her most, and what really shocked her, was that she couldn’t bear the thought that after this morning she may never see Carl Logan again.
They’d briefly broached the subject of when they’d next see each other the night before, but neither had wanted to spoil the atmosphere then and the conversation had quickly moved on without resolution. But it was now playing on Grainger’s mind again. Plus she could feel the pressure beginning to build now for what lay ahead for her. Logan had been a convenient distraction for the past two days but she still had work to do.
Having set the alarm to ensure he wasn’t late for Mackie, Logan had got out of bed at six. He left Grainger in bed and headed out to a café to get coffee and some pastries for breakfast. When he got back to the hotel room twenty minutes later, Grainger was already up and dressed.
‘Oh, I thought you were still sleeping. I just went out to get breakfast,’ he said, holding up the purchases with his one useful arm.
He brought the food and drink over to her, laid it down on the small, round table next to where she was sitting and kissed her on the cheek.
She responded with an awkward smile.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said, giving him another less than convincing smile. ‘Thanks for getting this.’
‘I can tell something’s up. What is it?’
‘It’s nothing,’ she said, more bluntly, wanting to say more, but unsure just how to open the subject up.
After that, they ate their breakfast in near silence.
‘Last night was great,’ Logan said, finishing the remainder of his black coffee. ‘I’m not sure where you learned all that. You were like a caged tiger let loose.’