***
It was almost 2pm in the UK when the call came through to Maureen Lassiter. Still sore from the night’s exertions, she shuffled in her seat to find a comfortable position. She listened whilst her contact in the British Embassy confirmed that Gillian Davis had not returned to her hotel and was not expected to do so. After many threats, bribes and favours, the attaché had discovered that no-one matching her name or description had flown from Havana. That information was useless, as he freely admitted.
“She could be planning to stay in Cuba forever as far as we know, and we will probably never know if she has created a new identity here. She has so much money she may never surface,” the attaché pointed out on the phone, which enjoyed better clarity than her internal line within Thames House.
“The odds are that she has left, or will leave soon under an assumed identity, possibly after changing her appearance. I fully expect the travel rep to be on the phone soon, reporting her missing. The Cubans are still uncomfortable about having Westerners circulating freely around Cuba without supervision,” he added.
Maureen thanked him for his help, whilst biting her tongue to prevent her saying what she really thought about their amateurish surveillance efforts. Barry had already guessed that she had slipped away, giving the snatch team only the slimmest of chances of apprehending her in her hotel. He had been angry, frustrated and quite violent in their lovemaking, before holding Maureen in his arms and falling asleep. He didn’t see her crying. She liked raw emotion and unremitting passion, but a lover could go too far and Barry had crossed Maureen’s invisible line. But what could she do? She loved him. Things would be better when this episode was behind them and they were living somewhere serene as husband and wife.
***
The last few hours of Katie’s time in London were spent in the offices of her agent, where her publicist and agent were filling her calendar with film premieres, fashion shows, awards ceremonies and chat shows around the world, without any consideration of how she would fit in her degree studies.
As Katie and her advisers argued in an adjoining office, Dee scanned the web, looking at the newspaper sites. Rob Donkin had made the front pages of the tabloids for the second day in a row, usurping riots in Greece and unhappiness amongst the populations of the Middle East.
The Daily Post led with the story of Donkin’s injuries, sustained during his attack on Katie Norman. Not one paper had thought to mention that Katie was safely secured inside the building when the attack took place. They were all looking for the most shocking headline, and the fiction that the nation’s favourite actress had been terrorised was much sexier than the truth. The Daily Post excoriated Rob Donkin, despising the shallowness of his section of society and decrying the cult of celebrity which enabled unbalanced people to become celebrities without doing anything. Dee noted that in the sidebar next to the article there was a string of photos, beside which were headlines exclaiming; film star photographed by the pool in LA in a bikini, Pop Star and winner of a TV talent show who has only one single to her name gets a new tattoo, and finally, sixty year old soap star who had a fling with toy boy has rampant cellulite.
Dee briefly wondered whether the newspaper editors were even vaguely aware of their blatant hypocrisy, and then decided that they probably were but that they simply didn’t care, as long as their newspapers sold in large numbers.
***
The meeting with Katie’s PA, Jordan Phelps, an Oxford graduate who was paid by the film company, spilled over into the journey to Heathrow Airport. As was usual with individuals who travelled through the VIP terminal, their luggage travelled separately. Dee had returned to her flat in Greenwich, which seemed so empty without her husband Josh around, to throw a few things into a suitcase. She could buy what she didn’t have with her when she got to the US. She could do with some retail therapy and she was on expenses, after all.
As Katie and her young male counterpart settled her calendar, Dee rang Josh, who was still in Dubai. She had emailed him about the attack, and he was genuinely scared for her. She knew that he didn’t like her ‘hands on’ role in personal security, even though that was how they had met, but he would never say so. Josh knew Dee well enough to know that she could usually take care of herself. In a supreme act of irony, the airlines had conspired to have Dee fly out from Heathrow only hours before Josh arrived back. They had been apart now for too long, but they would have to wait a little longer for their passionate reconciliation. They had been married for only a few months, and as far as they were both concerned the honeymoon period was still in full swing.
As Dee wrapped up the conversation, Katie crossed the limo and sat next to her, signalling that she wanted to speak to Josh. Dee handed her the phone.
“Josh Hammond, we speak at last. I’m so looking forward to meeting the man who stole Dee’s heart.” She was teasing again, but Josh was also accomplished at the art.
“Don’t tell Dee, but I fell in love with you first. I think you were only fourteen at the time, though, and so I knew it couldn’t work,” he joked.
“Your husband is a flirt, Mrs Hammond,” Katie said so that all could hear. “Am I going to get to meet you anytime soon, Josh?”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Dee chimed in, making a grab for the phone.
“If you stay still long enough I may eventually track you down,” Josh said finally as Katie let the phone go. The three of them were laughing.
***
As the Airbus A380 cruised over the Atlantic, Katie offered Dee the private cabin’s bed. Dee declined the offer, taking the recliner in the sumptuous private bedroom instead. Katie climbed into the full sized bed and pulled the comforter up to her neck.
“Dee, when I get back to the university, are you going to look for that woman sniper?” Dee looked surprised that her ward should know about the Chameleon. “Sorry, I overheard you on the phone to Pete on Wednesday making the arrangements to meet up in New York,” Katie admitted somewhat sheepishly. Dee did not answer immediately.
“To be entirely honest with you, Katie, I don’t really know what I’m going to do. I do want to track the Hokobus’ killer down, that much is true, but after that...” her sentence trailed off for a moment before she picked up the traces of the conversation again. “One part of me wants to understand why she killed such a lovely and harmless couple, while another part of me wants to see her with a syringe stuck in her own neck, realising she is about to die.”
“That won’t happen,” Katie countered. “You will catch her and you’ll hand her over to the police. You don’t have it in you to be a vigilante.”
Dee wondered whether that was really true. Sitting there on the plane pondering on it, she really did not know whether she could kill in revenge. A minute later she looked over at Katie, who had fallen asleep. Dee decided to get some rest, too, and pulled a blanket around her as she reclined her seat almost flat.
Chapter 49
Universal Studios, Orlando, Florida, USA, Saturday noon.
Gil had yet another new look. The hairdresser in the salon at the Grand Floridian had restored her natural hair colour and had cut her hair into a more contemporary style; he called it an urchin cut. Somehow Gil couldn’t imagine an urchin spending over two hundred dollars on a cut and colour.
Handing the keys of her Ford Mustang hire car to the valet, she stepped onto an escalator and rode up to the covered walkway which led into Universal City Walk. Wearing designer jeans, brown leather cowboy boots and a pink Aeropostale tee shirt, all bought at the Florida Mall late last night, she joined the crowds heading towards the parks.
As she passed the AMC multiplex on her right, she noticed that the latest Clara Campbell movie was showing. She decided to give it a try before she left Orlando. She had always envied Clara’s adolescent friendships, and crushes, having been a solitary teen when she was young herself.
A throng of happy and smiling tourists moved with purpose towards the newer of the two theme parks, the
Islands of Adventure, home to Hogsmeade, Hogwarts and the Harry Potter ride. Gil was quite excited. She had never been to a theme park as a child, and had never had an excuse to go as an adult, and so she looked at the rollercoasters with awe and more than a little trepidation. Nonetheless, she would ride them all. Not to do so would be cowardice.
***
By 6pm the queue for the Harry Potter ride had dwindled to twenty minutes and so she joined it, jiggling a giant stuffed white tiger on her hip – a prize she won, rather unfairly, in a target shooting sideshow. Gil had been so consumed with the colours, smells and noise of the park that she had paid no attention to a young couple following her around the park. The girl had a white veil on her head that sported Minnie Mouse ears. The man was wearing a tee shirt printed to resemble a tuxedo. Newlyweds, the world and his wife would think, but they would be wrong. The man had his wife stand in front of the gates to Hogwarts, towered over by two large winged boars, and then he took a picture with an expensive looking Sony camera. The picture that showed up on the camera’s screen, however, did not show the impressive gates, or his wife, but a pretty young woman with short hair carrying a white tiger.
The man fell into line a few places behind Gil, whilst his wife kissed him modestly on the lips and proclaimed loudly that she was going to Ollivander’s to buy a wand.
***
The girl headed off to Ollivander’s and joined the queue before reaching for her BlackBerry curve phone. She spoke quietly into the handset.
“This is Sherrie. The girl is here, we’ve been following her all afternoon. I’m sending you some pictures now.” The girl took the phone from her ear and sent four photos, taken on the phone’s built in 8 megapixel camera during the afternoon. The pictures weren’t great quality, but the light was good and it would be obvious to anyone who knew Gil, and who saw the photos, just who the subject was.
“Keep her in sight, understand?” a male voice commanded from out of the ether.
“Yes, boss. You can rely on us.” Sherrie pressed the red button to end the call and took up her vigil outside Filch’s Emporium, the exit from the Harry Potter ride.
Chapter 50
Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island, USA, Saturday noon.
There was no doubting that Brown University was an Ivy League institution; it just reeked of power and status. Founded in 1764, it is the seventh oldest college in the US and home to young film stars Emma Watson and Katie Norman. The film studios liked the college because it was Brit friendly and off the beaten track. Vastrick liked it because it was easier to secure than a metropolitan university.
Katie, Pete and Dee sat on a cold bench under a tree devoid of its leaves. The wind was cold, but the weather was dry. They were waiting for Katie’s new minder to arrive. Deanna Pope was usually the weekend and holiday relief for Katie’s assigned minder, but the two knew each other well and Deanna was young enough to blend in and give Katie her privacy, whilst keeping her in sight.
“Will I see you before you go back to the UK?” Katie asked Dee and Pete.
“I guarantee it, pet,” Pete replied, his Geordie accent seeming out of place on the lawn in front of this august establishment.
“Shouldn’t that be ‘Why aye man’, Pete?” Katie asked in a strong Newcastle dialect. Pete grimaced and Dee smiled.
“Pete and I will take you to ‘Rosie’s Emporium’ for a night out before we fly back. It’s a Vastrick secret. Lots of Feds and ex Feds hang out there and the New England cuisine is to die for. Hinny.” She added the last word to join in the teasing of her partner.
All too soon Deanna and Katie headed off towards the dorm block, and the two Vastrick personnel headed towards their Chrysler 300 hire car. They had a long journey ahead and a meeting with an old friend from Quantico.
***
They left Providence and joined Interstate 95, heading south towards New York. According to the satnav they had 444 miles to go before they reached Quantico in Virginia. They were going to be on the same road for almost nine hours.
They decided to share the driving in two hour spells, and so Pete, the big Geordie, curled up on the spacious back seat and was snoring loudly before Dee reached Cranston, just a few miles away. Dee listened to the radio as she drove, and despaired at the drivers who drove in their favoured lane regardless of their speed. It was going to be a long drive.
***
As she drove Dee cast her mind back four years to her time at Quantico. She had just arrived there to begin work when the hulk who was now snoring on the back seat ran up and introduced himself. They were both new Vastrick employees and both were there to attend a variety of courses from Hostage Negotiation to Defensive Driving.
Dee had expected a few hours to herself to acclimatise and get over her long journey when an instructor tapped on the dorm room door, opened it, threw in a tracksuit and said, “Cross country run, ten minutes, assembly point C.”
Dressed in her light grey FBI branded track suit with her visitor’s badge flapping, she set off beside Pete and an American called Steve Post. Steve was wearing a red ID band, whereas Dee and Pete had yellow bands on their wrists. The bands had been fitted when entering through the gate and, like hospital ID’s, they had to be worn until the person left the premises. Yellow denoted a guest trainee, from a US police department, fire department or private company, red denoted FBI. It is little known, or understood, by those who visit Quantico and who train there, that the CIA send numerous operatives to the FBI site for training. The spooks all wear red FBI wristbands and declare themselves to be from the Arlington Field Office. There is no Arlington Field Office for the FBI; in fact, these CIA operatives all hail from Langley, Virginia.
By the time the three trainees collapsed back at the foot of the big Assembly Point C marker, after a run of ten miles, they were firm friends. It was a friendship born out of adversity and it had lasted until today.
Those few weeks had been amongst the hardest, and most enjoyable, of Dee’s life. She learned a good deal about herself. She had not realised that she could take so much punishment and bounce back. She had accomplished more than she ever thought possible. When the Defensive Driving results came in she was in the top three of twenty one. Steve was one place ahead of her. In Hostage Negotiation, she was graded second to Steve. Soon she was determined to beat him at something and, by the time she left Quantico, she ran faster and shot more accurately than the top FBI candidate, Steve Post.
The intense competition came to a head on the last day when they were pitted against each other in unarmed combat, one to one fighting. The idea was the first person to lead by two clear falls, or drops, was the winner. Usually the scores were 5-3, or maybe 7-5. In extreme circumstances it could go to 11-9. The instructor stopped their combat session when they were both dead on their feet and Steve was up 23-22.
That night the entire group of graduates celebrated at Roman’s Pub on Potomac Avenue, after grabbing a bite to eat at Domino’s next door. Filled with pizza and beer, the night became rowdy and Steve and Dee took a cab back to the post, leaving Geordie to drink his American challengers under the table. When they arrived back at the post, Dee and Steve decided on one last drink in his dorm room. Before they finished they fell onto the bed in a passionate embrace, kissing each other hard, and pulling at each other’s clothes until they both passed out almost fully dressed before they could do anything.
Dee awoke with first light. The moment had passed, and she retired to her dorm room without waking Steve. They parted company later that day, a strong bond between them but neither one regretting that they had not consummated their relationship.
***
When Dee started to see road signs indicating upcoming interchanges for New York, she looked at her watch. She had overrun her driving time. As soon as they came to a fuel stop, Dee pulled in and bought two coffees. They used the restrooms and got underway again, with Dee taking her turn on the back seat.
They had changed over twice more when Dee sa
w the beautiful Washington DC Mormon Temple on her right hand side, illuminated in the dusk. The elevated position and the wafer thin marble gave the temple a surreal effect. It was beautiful during the day but it was awe inspiring at night.
The two travellers booked in at a Marriott hotel just off the highway, and crashed out for a while, knowing that they had only another hour to drive before meeting up with Steve Post at Quantico.
Chapter 51
Vastrick Security Field Office, Quantico, Virginia, Sunday 9am.
The offices were almost deserted when Dee and Pete arrived at the Vastrick corporate offices in Quantico. The offices had a familiar feel; the corporate branding, the prints on the wall and the furnishing were all identical to the London office, but this one was fraction of the size.
The office had been established to support the Vastrick personnel who were training in, or were seconded to, Quantico and other local US law enforcement offices and agencies.
The guard on the front desk was smiling and convivial, he was a large African American who would not be out of place as a linebacker. He led them to the conference room where the only other member of staff on duty was setting up the room for their meeting.
“Hi. My name’s Olly. I’ll be taking care of you today. I’m an investigative assistant and I handle the IT based analysis in the Quantico office.”
Dee introduced herself and Pete. A few years had passed since they had been in this office and Olly had not been around then. In fact, he looked as though he may have been in High School at the time.
***
Dee and Pete had helped themselves to the coffee, and selected one of the Krispy Kreme doughnuts which were sitting invitingly on plates, having been laid on specifically for the meeting. They were just finishing up and attempting to dust off the sugar powder that coated the table and their dark clothing when their guest arrived. Olly showed him in, and left when it was apparent that no introductions were necessary.
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