“He might now,” Ellis said, “but in time he’ll see that it was what Len would have wanted. He died doing what he did best. He was a true soldier.”
Andrew nodded, but the feeling of guilt just wouldn’t leave him. Every time he looked at his daughter, he would remember the sacrifice Len had made to reunite them.
“Go and check the flight plan with Heathrow to get an ETA,” Ellis said, “and arrange for someone to collect the bodies at the airport. They’ll also need accommodation when they get back. Sarah, you sort that out.”
They both left Ellis’s office and went back to their stations, but not before they shared another hug and broke the news to the rest of the team.
CHAPTER 39
Bill Sanders tossed the last of the suitcases into the back of the SUV and slammed the door closed. His wife Joanne was standing by the front door of their house, and she looked as if she was trying to remember whether she’d packed everything.
“Will you just get in the car!”
Given the choice, he would have left everything he owned, but Joanne had a sentimental streak that bordered on insanity. She’d insisted on bringing framed photos dating back years, while he only wanted to put the past behind him.
The contact from the ESO had come twenty-four hours earlier in the form of an advertising flyer. When it had dropped through the mail slot, he’d gotten in his car and driven to the mall to make a call to the fictitious travel agency he used to contact the ESO.
Minutes later, he’d been given his itinerary. They were to go to a local heliport and be flown to a regional airport, where they’d pick up their new papers and fly by private jet to Antigua.
A hotel had been booked in their names and paid for by the ESO, and a local high-end real estate agent would meet them that evening to discuss their needs.
Joanne finally got in beside him, and he pulled out of the driveway.
“Did you remember to turn off the furnace?”
“What the hell does it matter? In a couple of hours, we’ll be officially dead. Who are they going to send the utility bill to?”
Sanders hadn’t been given details as to how their deaths would be faked, only that it would happen that day. He suspected they would dress up the corpses of a couple of homeless people, put their bodies in a vehicle, and push it into a lake. Give it a few months, and there would be nothing more than bones left.
They would have to do something about their teeth, but a little creative dentistry would fix that.
On the freeway, his wife was already planning their new home.
“It has to have a pool, and a separate wing for the staff to sleep in.”
“We’ll find out what’s available when we get there.”
Joanne had wanted to search online for properties in St. John’s, Antigua, but having that in their web-search history hours before disappearing would raise too many questions. He’d managed to convince her to be patient, which hadn’t been easy. With forty million in the bank, she was desperate to go on a shopping spree.
It was an hour to the heliport, and when they arrived they were met by a man in a suit. He didn’t introduce himself, but helped to load their bags into the chopper. Once in the air, he handed over brand-new US passports and gave them the name of the hotel they’d be staying at once they arrived in their island paradise.
“We’ve booked you into a suite for two months. That should be plenty of time to choose your new home. You’ll also have a personal concierge to provide anything you desire. If you need to speak to us, he’ll pass on your requests.”
It seemed they’d thought of everything. Sanders squeezed his wife’s hand and gave her a reassuring smile.
It was a short hop to the airport, and the mystery man loaded their luggage into a car and they drove to a hangar. Inside was a white Learjet, and they walked up the steps and into the luxurious cabin. There were four seats, and a beautiful young lady asked them if they would like champagne before takeoff. The couple gratefully indulged.
Twenty minutes later they were in the air. The hostess offered them something to eat, and both settled on the steak option.
Sanders poured another glass of champagne and sat back in his chair. After all the uncertainty of the last few months, the pressure was finally off. He had enough to buy a house more than big enough for their needs, and at their age, about a million bucks a year to live on.
The food arrived, and both tucked in. The steak was succulent, the sauce divine, and they polished it off with the last of the champagne. The stewardess brought another bottle and popped the cork.
“To a new life,” Sanders said, raising his glass.
Joanne smiled as she raised hers, and they polished the drinks off in seconds.
Sanders felt comfortable enough to chat about their future. The last few days, he’d been worried that the ESO wouldn’t keep their end of the bargain, but now they were mere hours from a new beginning. They spoke about the new house they wanted, the clubs she was looking forward to joining, and his desire to do some decent deep-sea fishing.
His eyes suddenly felt heavy. He saw Joanne yawning, which set him off, too. He’d never been one to nap during the day, and he’d only been awake for nine hours. He put it down to the champagne and heavy meal.
Then the pain came. It started in his arm, then migrated to his chest and jaw. The base of his skull ached, and he had a coppery taste in his mouth. He tried to say something to Joanne but could see that she was in much the same state. She clutched at her chest and doubled over in her seat.
Sanders tried to get the stewardess’s attention, but the woman just stood there, an impassive look on her face. He wanted to shout to her, but his throat was so constricted he could barely breathe.
Too late, he realized that the ESO had chosen not to fake his death. They were doing it for real.
It was his last thought before the darkness enveloped him.
The stewardess called the cockpit, and the copilot came out to inspect the two bodies. Both had pain etched on their faces, the result of the poison she had added to their meal. He went back to the cockpit and told the captain to reduce altitude to five thousand feet, then waited until the plane had leveled off at that height.
“Get the door,” he said to the stewardess.
She went to the front of the cabin and opened it, holding tight to a handle on the wall to avoid being sucked out as the wind blew into the confined space.
The copilot dragged both corpses to the door and looked out. They were above the Atlantic and heading towards deeper water, but there was more to do. He went to the rear of the plane and opened a locker. Inside were two vests, both loaded with lead weights. He dragged them to the front and put them on the bodies, then one after the other he pushed Sanders and his wife out of the aircraft.
He locked the door and returned to the cockpit. Once he was strapped in his seat again, the captain turned back to the airport, their mission completed.
CHAPTER 40
Tom Gray performed the slow march in time with the other five pallbearers, the coffin on his shoulder no weight at all. Behind them, a procession of forty people shuffled along, the wind tearing at their clothes.
They reached the grave, and the coffin was placed on a platform that would soon be lowered into the ground. Gray took his place between Melissa and Sally, Len’s only surviving relative. She’d flown over from Australia on hearing the news. Next to Melissa was Gill, the long-serving receptionist at Minotaur Solutions.
The vicar began speaking, but Gray heard little of his sermon. His mind was filled with images of Len enjoying life. Many people had seen him as aloof, austere, but with his close friends he was a different person. He’d had a rich—though dry—sense of humor that hadn’t been expressed as often as Gray would have liked. He had also been a brutally loyal friend.
Sally let out a sniffle. Gray didn’t know if it was a reaction to the terrible weather or a show of sadness, but he took her hand anyway. She squeezed back tightly.
As the coffin descended into the ground, it felt like it was dragging Gray’s soul with it. When it was finally out of sight, he turned with the others and walked back to the church parking lot.
They thanked the vicar, then got into the waiting limousines that would take them to the wake.
It was held in the basement of a pub a few hundred yards from the now-empty offices of Minotaur Solutions. It had been Len’s regular hangout, and the owner had been honored to offer his services.
When they arrived, there was already a large group waiting. Most had served in the regiment with Len, Gray, and Sonny. Others were people whose acquaintance he’d made after leaving the army.
Some of the guests, Sally included, were astonished at the upbeat atmosphere in the cellar bar. Gray had to explain to her that, in true regimental tradition, they didn’t mourn a brother’s passing, but instead celebrated his life as if he were still among them. It was like attending a normal party, except no one got to meet the host.
As more and more people came to offer Sally their condolences and regale her with stories from Len’s past, Gray excused himself and went to get a drink.
Sonny was already at the bar.
“Decent turnout.”
“It is,” Gray agreed. There were at least a hundred people in the place.
“Where’s Melissa?” Sonny asked.
“She went home with Sarah and Andrew.”
When Sonny gave him a concerned look, Gray shrugged it off. “Andrew has a couple of his armed colleagues stationed outside the house, and she has a panic button, just in case. I don’t think anyone’s going to try anything tonight.”
“Andrew not staying, then?”
“He’ll be back,” Gray said. “He’s just going to make sure everything’s in place first.”
Music began blasting from half a dozen speakers, and Sonny had to lean in close to make himself heard.
“Where have you been the last few days?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had to make plans.”
“Such as?”
“I’ll tell you when Andrew gets here.”
Eva arrived and ordered a bottle of beer from the free bar. She clinked the neck against their drinks.
“To life,” she said, and swallowed half the brew.
They echoed the toast and ordered a fresh round.
“Is everything arranged?” Gray asked her.
“Just about. I’m waiting for the paperwork to take Carl back home. The funeral’s in six days.”
“I’m sure Andrew could help smooth that through,” Sonny suggested.
“He already has. He said I could pick up the documents tomorrow.”
“That’s good.”
They stood around in silence for a while, until some of Gray’s former colleagues came over to offer their condolences. Carl Levine and the bear-like Jeff Campbell had turned up, and they all caught up on old times. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, and they spent a good half hour chatting about what they’d been up to since they’d helped bring James Farrar to justice six years earlier.
Gray was on his fifth bottle when Andrew arrived. Gray set his beer aside, made his excuses to the guests at the bar, and dragged Andrew and Sonny to a quiet corner.
“I’m leaving in a couple of days,” Gray told them.
“Back to Italy,” Andrew said, nodding.
“No. Just . . . leaving. I won’t be back. This is the last you’ll see of me.”
Sonny looked hurt. “But you’ll be in touch, right?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s time I took Melissa away from all this, and that means we have to disappear for good. I’m sorry.”
Sonny looked crestfallen. “Wow. I mean . . . are you going to stay around until they read Len’s will? I’m sure he left you something.”
“You take it,” Gray said. “I’ve instructed my lawyer, Ryan Amos, to draft a letter renouncing any claim to Len’s inheritance and giving it all to you.”
“Are you sure? He had a couple of million stashed away. That’s not to be sniffed at.”
“I’m sure.” Gray smiled, fingering the lapel of Sonny’s suit jacket. “You keep it. Buy yourself a decent suit.”
“Cheeky sod. This cost me three hundred quid.”
“I rest my case.”
“Seriously, though,” Andrew said, “what are you going to do for money?”
“That’s no longer an issue. When we left Langton’s place, I snagged a few of his watches. I had them valued the other day, and we’ll never want for money again. One of them was something called a Patek Philippe Henry Graves Supercomplication.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Nor had I, but the last time it was auctioned, four years ago, it fetched over twenty-four million dollars. That was one of the cheaper ones in his collection.”
“Holy shit!”
“That’s what I thought,” Gray said. “It’ll keep us going for a few years, and I’ll leave the others to Melissa when I’m gone. So yeah, we’re good for money.”
“What about papers?” Andrew asked. “I’m sure after everything you’ve done for us, Veronica would be able to arrange something.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got that covered. If MI5 know my new identity, I’ll never be free of . . . all this. Every time the phone rings, I’ll wonder if it’s you asking for a favor, and I can’t live like that. I’m sure you understand.”
“I do,” Harvey said.
A large man came staggering over and put his arms around Gray’s shoulders.
“Hey, Tom, long time no see.”
“Hi, Taff. Glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” the Welshman said.
“This is Andrew. You know Sonny.”
“Of course I know Sonny. The only dwarf to pass selection!”
“You making fun of my height?” Sonny asked, adopting an aggressive stance.
“What height? You haven’t got any height. Here, take this tenner and go and buy yourself some height, then come back here and I’ll make fun of it!”
Andrew looked worried, as if it was all going to kick off, but Sonny grabbed the money and planted a kiss on Taff’s cheek. “Ta very much!”
“Lighten up, Andrew,” Sonny said, “the fighting doesn’t start until at least seven o’clock.”
Taff went off in search of entertainment, leaving the trio alone once more.
“I still can’t believe it,” Sonny said. “This is like . . . the end of an era. First Len gone, now you. It’s gonna take some getting used to.”
“It will,” Gray agreed, “but we all have to move on. You’ve got plenty of money, and with those newfound cooking skills you’ve been bragging about, you can open a restaurant or something. Go find yourself an island paradise, spend your days on the beach being attended to by lovely maidens in skimpy bikinis, and cook your heart out at night.”
“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad.”
Gray slapped him on the shoulder. “It doesn’t, does it? Let’s go and mingle.”
For the next six hours, Gray chatted with his old friends. Many wanted him to retell the story of how he’d kidnapped the five repeat offenders all those years ago, or how he’d managed to get the MI5 agent out of Tagrilistan. That hadn’t made the newspapers, but little went on in the world that didn’t get back to Hereford, especially when ex-22 members were involved.
By the time it came to say goodnight, Gray was as drunk as he’d ever been in his life. As the wake organizer, he was one of the last to leave. His only companion at the end was Sonny, who, if anything, was even worse for wear.
“They might be the best . . . burrrp . . . soldiers in the world,
but they’re a bunch of messy bastards.”
Sonny swept a clumsy arm toward the dance floor, which was slick with spilled beer and spirits. The remnants of the food fight that had taken place two hours earlier covered the nearby tables and chairs.
Sonny reached into his pocket and, with some difficulty, extracted his wallet. He took his time counting out a few notes and threw them on the table.
“Give that . . . to the . . . landlord. I’m gonna call . . . Hughie and Ralph . . . on the big white telephone.”
While Sonny went to throw up, Gray’s wavering hand eventually latched on to a rum and coke, and he held it up in the air.
“To you, big man.”
He tossed the drink down his throat and slammed the glass back down on the table.
I need to call them, too.
He staggered to the restroom, bouncing off every wall on the way, and discovered Sonny asleep with his head on the toilet. For some reason, it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen, and he leaned against the cubicle door and laughed until it hurt. Eventually, he managed to pull out his phone and take a picture for posterity.
The urge to vomit had gone for now, so he helped Sonny to his feet and half-dragged him up the stairs. The cold air hit him like a freight train, and it sobered him up a little.
He called Andrew and asked if he and Sarah could look after Melissa that night. He didn’t want his daughter seeing him in such a state. Andrew agreed, and Gray hailed a taxi, pushed Sonny aboard, and asked the driver to drop them off at The Ritz.
CHAPTER 41
It had been three days since Len’s funeral, but Gray still couldn’t face a beer. Instead, he ordered an exorbitantly overpriced Coke from the airport bar and a fruit juice for Melissa. Eva sipped a glass of white wine.
True to his word, he’d checked out of the hotel the next morning and, after picking Melissa up from Andrew’s house, checked into another one booked under Eva’s assumed name.
When picking up Melissa, his final goodbye to Sarah had been emotional, but she’d understood his reasoning. For her part, she’d decided never to use a nanny or babysitter again. Veronica Ellis had passed on her good wishes, and Gray asked them to say goodbye to Hamad Farsi for him.
Seek and Destroy Page 21