Seek and Destroy

by Alan McDermott

  CHAPTER 23

  Harvey ignored the speed limit as he drove to Thames House. Horns blared as he cut through traffic, and he jumped a couple of red lights in his haste to get to headquarters.

  “We have to call Tom,” Sarah said.

  “That’s just what they want,” Harvey replied as he spun the wheel to nip down a side road. “I think they took the girls to get to him.”

  “But why?”

  “I told you. They’re after Eva Driscoll. Tom leads them to Len and Sonny, who in turn lead to her. Only now we’ve become involved.”

  “You mean you’ve involved us.”

  It wasn’t the time to argue semantics. There’d be time for recriminations later, once the girls were safe.

  “Yes, I got us involved,” Harvey said, hoping it would be enough to make her drop the subject.

  It was, though he wasn’t sure he preferred the silence that ensued. He’d known Sarah long enough, and anger and resentment would be simmering below the surface. He needed to get her mind focused on the solution rather than dwelling on what couldn’t be changed. She was a sharp thinker, clinical and tenacious. That was the side of Sarah he needed to see right now.

  “We need to think of places they would take the girls,” he said. He got no reply and took it to mean she was working on the problem.

  What would have normally been a thirty-minute journey was over in twenty, and he dumped the BMW in the underground parking lot and ran up the stairs, with Sarah close behind him.

  After swiping into the office, Harvey went straight to Hamad Farsi’s station.

  “Anything from the ports?”

  “Nothing yet. I’ve got three people downstairs looking at facial recognition and scouring passenger manifests for three people traveling on the same flight and matching their descriptions.”

  “What about Kentish Town?”

  “As you said, a bust. The phone was with some teen who claimed he found it on the floor of a Tube train.”

  “Okay. Let’s get Elaine and Eddie looking at CCTV of the area around my house.”

  “They’re already on it. Elaine started fifteen minutes ago.”

  Harvey went over to Elaine Solomon’s desk. She was in her mid-forties but had the energy and dress sense of someone half her age. Eddie Howe sat opposite her, the perennial energy drink next to his keyboard. Both were engrossed in their screens.

  “Anything?” he asked Elaine.

  “Nothing concrete, but a couple of possibilities. There are no cameras in the area of your house, but from the main road we can see two cars entered your street about ten minutes after Sarah left for her hospital appointment.”

  Elaine switched to another screen and showed Harvey the suspect vehicles. They appeared to be following each other as they drove on to his road.

  “A few minutes later, both cars reappear at the other end of the street and split up. Eddie’s tracking one and I’ve got the other. It went down Ladbroke Grove and turned right. I’m just searching for the next available camera . . . Got it. Here they are.”

  Harvey watched the poor-quality images on the screen. The car was heading west, away from the camera.

  “Move to the next one.”

  Elaine clicked through to the next camera, situated at Holland Park Tube station.

  “Okay, they’ve stopped.”

  Harvey saw one man get out of the front passenger seat and the car drive off. From the angle of the shot, he could only see one other person in the vehicle. “He’s going into the station. Which Tube lines feed Holland Park?”

  “Central Line.”

  “Hamad,” Harvey shouted across the room, “where did that kid find the phone?”

  Hamad looked through a printout. “Central Line. He got on at East Acton, then switched at Tottenham Court Road to the Northern Line. He got off at Camden Town.”

  “That was the decoy car,” Harvey told Elaine. He ran around to Eddie Howe’s desk. “Where’s the other vehicle?”

  “The M4. They joined at junction 1 in Chiswick. They’re just approaching the M25 . . . Yes, they went south on the M25. Let me find the camera for the next exit.”

  Eddie moved to another shot, then synced the times and rolled on a few minutes. Harvey leaned over his shoulder, waiting to see if the suspect vehicle left at junction 14. After ten minutes of searching, it appeared to have stayed on the motorway.

  “Hamad, they didn’t get off at Heathrow. Concentrate on Gatwick!”

  “Andrew, my office.”

  Harvey turned to see Veronica Ellis standing in the doorway of her glass palace.

  “Keep looking,” he told Eddie, then jogged over to Ellis’s office and closed the door behind him.

  “Have they called you?” she asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  “They will. I’ve instructed Gerald to put a trace on your phone. The moment they get in touch, he’ll start tracing them.”

  If Gerald Small couldn’t track them, nobody could. The MI5 technician was without equal in his small department, and phones were his specialty.

  “How are you holding up?” Ellis asked.

  Harvey knew what she was really asking: Are you up for this, or are you going to crumble under the pressure? He was glad she wasn’t tearing him a new one for getting tangled up with the ESO. Her warning was still fresh in his mind.

  “I’m good.” He looked out through the glass wall and saw Sarah leaning over Hamad’s desk. “I can’t vouch for Sarah, though.”

  “Let me worry about her,” Ellis said. “What progress are the team making?”

  Harvey brought her quickly up to speed. “I need to disappear for a couple of hours. Tom has to be told what’s happening. I can’t call him, for obvious reasons.”

  “Okay, but when you do, make sure you stress that we’ve got it covered. I don’t want him racking up a huge body count.”

  That was exactly what Harvey feared, too. Much as he loved Tom Gray, the man was unpredictable, and direct action was his mantra. Not only would Harvey have to break the news that Tom’s beloved daughter had been kidnapped, but he’d also have to warn the ex-soldier to show restraint.

  It wasn’t going to be easy.

  Or pleasant.

  Harvey went back out on to the office floor and straight to Elaine’s desk. “Keep following the decoy car. I want to see where it goes. Maybe we can ID the driver and see where that leads.”

  “Will do. I already ran the plates and it’s a clone, so no luck there.”

  “Okay. Just see what you can find.”

  Gareth Bailey came over and handed Harvey some printouts. “I checked into Linda Myers. Her history is cast-iron. Whoever created this legend knew what they were doing.”

  “Did you speak to the people who provided references?”

  “No reply from either number.”

  Harvey suspected that even if he’d reached the supposed families, they would have been ESO people posing on the other end of the line.

  “Thanks.” He went to speak to Sarah. “Gareth has everything you could possibly get on Myers. Even if you’d checked it yourself, nothing would have flagged up.”

  Her face softened imperceptibly, but Harvey knew his decision to hire a nanny would hang over him for a long time to come.

  “I have to go and tell Tom,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She took his hand, but there was little warmth in her touch.

  “I’ll be here.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Eva Driscoll and Carl Huff had been on the road for almost three hours, battling through heavy traffic most of the way. Since setting off at nine, they’d headed up the M40, then up the M42 and on to the M6. They were now on the outskirts of Birmingham, and the dashboard clock said it was almost time for Bill Sanders to call.

  She adjusted her face mask once more. It was flesh-colored latex and fit over her nose down to her chin, with a large slit for the mouth. Up close it was clearly fake, but it altered the lower half of h
er face enough to fool any facial recognition cameras along the route. Carl was wearing one, too, the long chin making him look like Dan Dare. Harvey had purchased them at a party accessory shop at her request, and she’d cut them to size. They were good enough for this task, but she would need something more convincing at some point.

  At Spaghetti Junction, Eva followed the signs for the A38, then got off the roundabout and into a residential area. She parked on a street and put the SIM card and battery back in the new phone, having texted Sanders her new number the previous day before trashing the other burner.

  Carl rested his hand on Eva’s thigh, and she put her own hand on his. “You’ve been quiet,” he said.

  That was one of the things she loved most about Carl. He knew when she wanted a conversation, and when to let her be alone with her thoughts. Some men just chatted for the sake of it, but Carl was smarter, more tuned in to her needs.

  Of all the regrets in her life, the biggest by far was her decision to walk away from him a decade earlier. They’d met at the CIA’s clandestine services training camp, both raw recruits and each determined to be the best. After a week-long exercise in the field, they’d bumped into each other at a bar, where the beer had been cold and the ambience relaxing. That night, the love-making had been intense.

  Relationships between candidates were strictly forbidden, so they’d used all their guile to ensure no one suspected a thing. It clearly hadn’t been enough, because Bill Sanders, then the head of the program, had subjected them to a polygraph and intense questioning. They’d naturally denied everything, and their stories had ultimately been accepted, but Eva had learned her lesson. She’d always been a driven, competitive person, much like her late brother. Washing out of the CIA over an impulsive affair was never an option. They agreed to stop seeing each other until the program was over, but when the time came, she’d chosen to walk away without saying goodbye.

  Even to this day, she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it had been the fear that her feelings for him would cloud her judgment and make her take her eyes off the prize. She’d been trained to kill, not to love. She couldn’t afford to be deep in a mission and have sentiments screw things up. She’d known that her future targets would be someone’s father or mother, son or daughter. Even someone’s lover. Could she take a life knowing what she was destroying?

  She’d walked away from him and not looked back.

  Until last year, when Carl had shown up at the most unlikely moment. He’d got close to Edward Langton, heir to the ESO throne and Eva’s prime target. What she hadn’t known at the time was that he’d been sent by Sanders to keep her alive, not thwart her efforts.

  Looking back now, she didn’t only see the short, happy period since their reconciliation. She saw the gaping chasm that marked their ten years apart. A decade they could have spent together as lovers rather than being strangers.

  She was determined to make up for it. They were both in their early thirties, so they still had a lifetime ahead of them. If only they could be rid of the ESO to enjoy it.

  “Just reflecting on how lucky I am to have you,” she said, squeezing his hand.

  Then Sanders called, destroying the moment.

  “I have the information you wanted,” he said.

  Eva already had a pen and paper ready. “Shoot.”

  “The person you want has a private island. Here are the coordinates.”

  Sanders read the numbers off and Eva scribbled them down.

  “Where is it?”

  “The Pacific Ocean. It has no name, but it’s roughly 2,500 miles west of Ecuador, and 600 miles northeast of Hiva Oa in the French Polynesian islands.”

  “Why doesn’t it have a name?” Eva asked. “Every inhabited island has a name.”

  “Not this one. You won’t find it on any maps, either. Go ahead, look it up on your phone. Officially, there’s nothing there.”

  “Which makes me think you’re yanking my chain. What’s the deal? Get me on a plane there and shoot it down over the middle of the ocean? I wasn’t born yesterday, Bill.”

  “I’m on the level,” Sanders insisted. “Who sent Carl Huff to look after you last year, eh? It was me.”

  “Only because if I died, I’d have taken you down with me. Now that you’ve got the recordings, I’m more use to you dead.”

  Eva heard him sigh.

  “It was never like that. Even if you hadn’t made the recordings of us . . . together, I still would have sent Carl. You were always special to me.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. “We’re done here.”

  “Seriously, Eva. I’m a pariah in Washington, with zero influence and one step from jail. You’re the only one who can keep me out of prison. Why would I lie to you?”

  For any number of reasons.

  “Let’s say I believed you,” she said. “Who’s on the island?”

  Sanders paused. “Now, that you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Try me.”

  Sanders waited again, as if trying to build the tension. “Henry Langton.”

  “So, a man who’s dead is living on an island that doesn’t exist? You’ve had twenty-four hours, and that’s the best you can come up with?”

  “I didn’t believe it at first, but it makes sense. The ESO wants nothing to do with you. They told me that. All they want to do is lick their wounds and stay out of the spotlight. Langton, however, has other ideas. He blames you for killing his son and wants you dead.”

  Eva took it all in and processed what she’d heard. Would it be such a leap to believe that Langton had faked his own death? A man with billions to burn—trillions, if the rumors were correct—could easily afford to pay off a few people to make it happen. A couple of prison guards, a coroner, send another corpse to the funeral home, and voilà . . .

  It sounded plausible, but something didn’t smell right.

  “How did you find out about Langton?” she asked.

  “The ESO told me.”

  “Who in the ESO?”

  “I don’t know.” Sanders told her how the meeting had gone down. “They said they helped him disappear for two reasons: to stop him from talking to the authorities, and for all his years of service. But now that he’s taken up this vendetta against you, they see him as a liability.”

  “What else can you give me?” Eva asked, conscious that the call had been going on for some time. If they were tracking her, she would soon know about it.

  “That’s all they gave me. I suggest you take the chance while you can. You—”

  She cut him off. “Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

  Eva ended the call and looked around. Seeing no one near, she lowered the window, dropped the phone in the street, and drove quickly back on to the M6, this time heading toward London.

  “What do you think?” she asked Carl.

  “It all sounded just a little too convenient. Contrived, even.”

  “Exactly. It has to be a trap.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “Back at square one,” Eva said.

  Five hours later, after stopping off for lunch and sitting in yet another traffic jam, they were on the outskirts of Guildford once more. The roads were becoming familiar, and she found the hotel without the aid of the satnav. When she pulled into the parking lot and stopped the vehicle, she saw a familiar face.

  “Time to clear up some unfinished business,” Eva said to Carl.

  “Isn’t that Harvey, the guy you lied to about being the father of your fictitious child?”

  “It is.”

  “Go easy,” Carl warned her. “We need him on our side. In fact, why not save it until later, when this is all over?”

  “He deserves to know the truth, and if he thinks we’ve still got a child together, it could cloud his judgment.”

  Carl sighed. “You’re the boss.”

  They got out of the car. “Hey you,” she said.

  Andrew Harvey looked over at her, then did a double take.

  “Emilie?�
�

  “I told you that wasn’t my real name.” She smiled. “Call me Eva.”

  “Right. Len told me. It’s just . . . I’ll always remember you as Emilie.”

  Eva sensed that he wasn’t that happy to see her.

  “You go ahead,” she said to Carl. “I won’t be a minute.”

  Huff walked through the entrance and Eva fell in step with Harvey. “You always were the sentimental type,” she said, trying to break whatever ice had formed since their last meeting, the previous year. “It’s a shame we couldn’t have met under different circumstances.”

  “If you want to trade clichés, it’s water under the bridge,” he said coldly. “I’ve moved on.”

  “I know. How’s Alana?”

  “Missing.” Harvey held her gaze. “The ESO have her.”

  “What? When?”

  “This morning. One of them posed as our new nanny and took Alana when Sarah went for a hospital appointment. I’ve got MI5, Special Branch, and the Met looking for her.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” she asked. “Why aren’t you at Thames House?”

  “Because they took Tom Gray’s daughter too. I’m just about to break the news to him.”

  “Oh, shit. Andrew, I’m so sorry.”

  Harvey turned and started for the hotel. “Save it,” he said over his shoulder.

  Eva followed him inside, staying a few steps behind until they reached the room. When he stopped at the door, she brushed past him to put the key card in the lock, then stopped.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said.

  “Can it wait? I have to see Tom.”

  “I’d rather you heard it now.”

  Harvey stared at her, waiting for her to speak.

  “Remember Maria?”

  “Our daughter from that brief relationship when you lied to me all those years ago? Of course I remember. That’s not something you easily forget. When someone you haven’t seen for a decade shows up and says you’ve got a nine-year-old daughter, you tend to remember.”

  “Maria’s my niece.”

  Harvey’s face sagged and he seemed to be struggling for words.

  “I had to get you to help me.”

  “Do you know what an evil thing that was? How could you do that to anyone?”