Seek and Destroy

by Alan McDermott

  He’d spent the next two days searching for private watch collectors on the Internet. As he’d expected, it hadn’t been easy. In the end, he’d asked Farooq to help, and had been rewarded with the names of three people in the US who would pay top dollar for the items in Langton’s collection. He’d emailed all three of them, asking if they would be interested in a couple of the timepieces, and their replies had been instant. A bidding war soon ensued, and arrangements had been made to meet the winner in New York to make the exchange. In a few days’ time, he would be two watches lighter and have a hundred grand in cash and another forty million wired to a numbered account in the Cayman Islands. The only downside was that he’d been forced to wear an old-fashioned, three-piece suit to get them through customs. He had a pocket watch on a gold chain in his vest pocket, and an extremely rare Patek Philippe on his wrist.

  First, though, he had to say goodbye to one more person.

  Tom Gray.

  Eva had agreed to take him to see DeBron Harris in Louisville. She’d called ahead and made arrangements, and he and Melissa would be given US passports in their new names, plus a prepaid credit card and social security numbers. Everything he would need to disappear into the open.

  He still hadn’t decided on a destination, though. For simplicity he would have preferred an English-speaking country, but the idea of Melissa learning a second language while still in her formative years also appealed.

  He had plenty of time to decide.

  He’d decided to take Melissa to Disney World in Florida for a couple of weeks, to try to get rid of the nightmares she’d been having. She’d told him what she’d been through on Langton’s island, and he imagined that would be enough to induce some kind of mental trauma in one so young. After Disney World, he’d take her to see a therapist if her condition didn’t improve. He didn’t have much time for psychologists himself, but would do anything to ease the painful memories in his daughter’s mind.

  The screen showed that their plane was boarding, and he, Eva, and Melissa walked to the gate like one happy family.

  Twelve hours later, they booked into separate rooms at the Best Western JFK Airport hotel. Thankfully, the customs official had taken little interest in his watches.

  In the morning, Eva knocked on their door and presented Melissa with a giant teddy bear and Gray with a pair of airline tickets.

  “We leave in three hours,” she said. “I thought it best to book us a hotel in Louisville for tonight, and you can make your own way from there.”

  That sounded good to Gray. He didn’t want to pick up the new IDs and then get back on a plane. It was tiring enough for him to do it, never mind Melissa.

  He showered and dressed, then they took a cab to LaGuardia where they boarded the two-and-a-half-hour flight to Louisville. When they landed, Eva rented a car.

  The neighborhood she drove him to was rough in the extreme, but Eva assured him that they would be fine.

  She was right.

  They were in and out of DeBron’s place in a couple of hours. At Gray’s insistence, Eva left the room while his papers were created. He didn’t want anyone knowing his new identity, not even her. At his request, DeBron swore never to give the information to anyone, including to Eva.

  They reached the hotel around dinnertime.

  “Any plans?” Eva asked as he tucked into his steak.

  “Plenty, but I’m not sharing them. What you don’t know, you can’t tell.”

  “Very wise.”

  “I’m sorry I won’t be at the funeral,” Gray said. “Carl was a good man. I just think Melissa’s seen enough death.”

  “I understand. I hope this horrible experience doesn’t affect her long-term.”

  Gray hoped so too, but only time would tell.

  They shared small talk for the next hour, steering the conversation away from their recent exploits for Melissa’s sake, and when they parted that night, Eva promised to pop in and say goodbye before she left in the morning.

  When Gray woke, he immediately felt refreshed and invigorated, as if he had something good to look forward to. When he took in his surroundings, he knew what it was. Today was the first day of his new life, and he was keen to get on with it.

  He showered and dressed before waking Melissa, and on the way down to breakfast he knocked on Eva’s door.

  There was no answer.

  He assumed she would already be in the restaurant, but when they got there, she was nowhere to be seen.

  After filling up on bacon and eggs, Gray walked back through the reception area and was called over by the desk clerk.

  “Mister Gray, we have a message for you.”

  She handed him a sealed envelope, and he opened it.

  I hate long goodbyes. Take care, Tom Gray.

  E.

  Gray smiled. He hadn’t really been looking forward to it either.

  “She also asked me to tell you that she settled the bill,” the clerk said.

  Gray thanked her and took Melissa back to the room. He packed their bags, then changed into the three-piece suit once more. No way was he checking the watches through in luggage. The rest of the timepieces were in a safe deposit box in London, and he would let the buyer know about them later that day. If he wanted to purchase them all, the transaction would be done in the UK to avoid import and export duty, and Gray’s lawyer would ensure the majority of the money was put aside for Melissa.

  “What are we doing today, Daddy?”

  “We’re going to New York, honey.”

  “But we went there yesterday,” she moaned.

  “I know, but this time we’re going to see some of the sights. We can climb to the top of the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, then go to the zoo in Central Park. How does that sound?”

  “Yeah! I love the zoo!”

  “Great! We’ll stay there for a couple of days, then I’ll take you to meet an old friend of mine.”

  He just hoped Mickey Mouse had the stamina to put up with her for two weeks.

  CHAPTER 42

  Eva Driscoll sat outside the parrilla and checked the menu. One of the best things about Argentina was the steak, and this was her fifth in the four days she’d been in Buenos Aires. She ordered the tenderloin, medium, with sweetbreads and baked potato.

  She felt a pang in her chest as the waiter walked away. Carl had loved his steak, too, but they would never share another.

  The funeral two weeks earlier had been a typically solemn affair. Carl was survived by his mother, and only ten mourners had attended, Eva included. She’d introduced herself as an old colleague to avoid any unwanted questioning, though everyone seemed more preoccupied with wondering who had arranged and paid for the service.

  After seeing him laid to rest, Eva had taken the first flight to Montevideo, Uruguay. It wasn’t the chicest of places, but it was home to Javier Bustamante. If DeBron Harris was the go-to guy for counterfeit US passports, Javier was his South American equivalent. Armed with a new name and papers, she’d spent a couple of days in the Uruguayan capital before taking a leisurely boat ride over to Buenos Aires.

  She flicked her hair off her shoulders. It was growing out nicely, and she intended to wear it long for the foreseeable future. She thought it suited her new persona, that of Señorita Lucía Sánchez. All she needed to do now was find a place to rent, and she could slip into her new lifestyle. She still had to come up with a personal history for herself, though. A wealthy widow would be the simplest—living life without a care now that her husband was gone.

  It brought another stab of grief. She and Carl hadn’t spoken of marriage, but she knew the possibility had been lurking in the background. They’d talked about the future, but matrimony had been the one subject they’d never broached.

  Now it was too late.

  She thought about the bear he’d bought her at the flea market, the one she’d given to Harvey for safe-keeping. It had been the simplest trinket, but had epitomized his love for her. With him gone, sh
e’d decided not to ask for it back. It would only remind her of her loss each and every day, and that was no way to spend the rest of her life. It was better that Sarah and Harvey keep it to remind them of the man who’d sacrificed his life to bring their daughter back.

  Her food arrived, but Eva had lost her appetite. She picked at the plate but couldn’t get Carl’s face out of her mind. She called the waiter over and ordered a double vodka and tonic, hoping it would take her somewhere more pleasant.

  “Señorita Sánchez, you have a phone call.”

  Eva looked up at the waiter, who was holding out a cordless phone. She couldn’t think how anyone would know her new identity. She’d only had it for a few days and had checked into the hotel using an old alias.

  “Are you sure it’s for me?”

  He shrugged. “That’s what he said.”

  Eva took the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello?” she said in Spanish.

  “Miss Driscoll, it’s good to finally speak to you.”

  “Who is this?” she asked, but had a feeling she already knew. She looked around but couldn’t see anyone staring at her. Still, her body had already entered fight-or-flight mode.

  “I think you know the answer to that question. If it clears things up, though, we’re the people who are thankful for your efforts in French Polynesia recently.”

  “Okay, you have my attention. What do you want?”

  “Just to make sure we have a mutual understanding. Henry Langton . . . overstepped the mark. His actions were not in keeping with the standards we uphold.”

  “Standards that include having my brother murdered and trying to kill me and Rees Colback?”

  “You were never meant to be involved,” the voice said. It had an echo to it, as if he were speaking from inside a tin can.

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Eva was gripping the phone so tightly, her knuckles were white, and she had a hard time keeping her voice down. “Are you saying you had every right to kill Jeff?”

  “As I said, Langton did not always act with our full authority. He may have been our leader, but he lost sight of what the organization stands for.”

  “I don’t think he did. World domination at any cost seems pretty simple to me. Kickstart illegal wars in the Middle East to benefit the fossil fuel industry and the military–industrial complex. Pay to ensure that legislation is passed allowing banks to print trillions of dollars with a few key taps, and then lend that money to the masses so that they can work their entire lives in servitude trying to pay it off. And all the while your media outlets ignore the entire scam and instead pitch black against white, left against right, Democrat against Republican. The sheep take the bait and have too much going on to realize they’re being manipulated like puppets, working their entire lives simply to enrich you and your cronies.”

  “That was quite a speech, Miss Driscoll, and accurate in some respects. Only, our plan has been in play for a number of years and will be for the next hundred at least. Sadly, Henry Langton couldn’t wait. He wanted to see it come to fruition in his lifetime and accelerated the program too quickly. We were willing to wait for North Korea to implode, which it would have done in another twenty to thirty years, but Henry wanted to see it wiped off the face of the earth. If his candidate had won the last election, it would be a graveyard by now. He’d lined up both candidates for the next election, but as you know, they’re out of the running. Maybe that was for the best.”

  “I still don’t understand why you’re calling me,” she said.

  “To extend an olive branch. This could easily have been a drive-by shooting or suicide bombing. You would never have seen it coming. We want to assure you that we have no intention of coming after you again. Henry Langton acted foolishly, and thanks to you, he paid the price. We’d like that to be the end of it. We go our separate ways and hope our paths never cross again.”

  He had a point. They could have shot her in the back of the head long before now, and there were plenty of tall buildings around her for a sniper to lie in wait.

  “You seem unsure of our proposal,” the voice said. “As a token of our sincerity, check your bank account.”

  He read off some numbers, and Eva recognized them as the account where the vast majority of her funds were held. Money she’d stolen from the CIA. Effectively, the ESO’s money.

  “Don’t worry, we haven’t taken anything. In fact, we added a little bonus. It’s our way of apologizing for your brother’s death, and a thank you for ridding us of Henry Langton. The balance should now read one hundred million. That should be enough to keep you going for the rest of your life.”

  It was all too good to be true. In addition, the fact that they’d found her so quickly was disturbing. She hadn’t even used the Sánchez papers yet, which could only mean that the ESO had Javier Bustamante in their pocket. They must also have someone following her around, which was even more disturbing. Her tradecraft was first-rate, so whoever was following her must have been her equal at the very least. They knew where she was and had got the number for the steak bar, which meant someone was tailing her.

  They were close.

  She looked around once more but could see no one. In fact, nothing had pinged her radar for the last week.

  “Your answer, Miss Driscoll?”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Do we have a deal? We don’t come after you, you don’t come after us.”

  “Yeah, deal. Only, on one condition. Stop following me. Your men are good, but one day they’ll make a mistake. If I see anyone acting suspicious within a mile of me, all bets are off.”

  “That seems more than reasonable. We only used them to get your attention, and now that we have, I’ll simply wish you a long and happy life.”

  The phone went dead, and Eva slowly placed it on the table. She considered leaving immediately, but needed time to think, so she picked up her knife and fork and tucked into the steak. It was cold, but she needed sustenance.

  She also needed to get out of the country if she had any hopes of making a fresh start away from the ESO. But where to? And new IDs were a must. She could go back and see DeBron, but something told her that her European connection would be a better idea.

  She’d fooled them once with her old-lady routine, so it could work again. If not, she would find another way to lose them.

  With her immediate plans in her head, she stuck a handful of pesos under the plate, then picked up her bag and casually threw it over her shoulder before heading back to her hotel.

  Vincent May hit the End button on the call.

  “What do you think?” the new head of the ESO asked the other four men in the room.

  “She knows a lot,” one offered. “Is it really wise to let her go?”

  “Of course it is!” another snapped. “Do you want to end up like Mumford? I’d rather keep my balls where God intended, thank you very much.”

  “Gentlemen, we’ve discussed this. Our priority is to undo the godawful mess Langton created, and regain control. Hopefully, we’ve got her off our backs for the next couple of years.”

  “We should have killed her while we had the chance. Now she’s on notice. It’ll be impossible to get close to her again. She’s like an attack dog. We’re deluding ourselves if we think we can control her.”

  “Even attack dogs have their uses,” May said.

  The predicament Langton had left them in could put their plans back by years. They would have to keep their heads down until the next election, when the liberal Leo Russell would be ousted. Once their own man was in the White House, they would end the witch hunt and get things back on track.

  “It was a wise move to contact her,” another of May’s colleagues said. “We don’t need her interfering with what’s coming up. Hopefully the pittance we threw at her will keep her out of our hair.”

  May’s decision to track Driscoll from the UK had been vindicated. They had discovered who was supplying her with passports, and DeBron Harris and Jav
ier Bustamante were now in the ESO’s pocket. Both had been given cash and promises of immunity from future prosecutions in return for their cooperation. May had also found the new IDs that Tom Gray and her other friends were living under, and that information would be filed away for now.

  “How soon after the election do we strike?” a member of the board asked.

  “There’s no rush,” May said. “Let them think we’ve forgotten about them. When they’re back in their comfort zones, we’ll pick them off one by one.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  If you would like to be informed of new releases, just send an email with “Driscoll” in the subject line to alanmac@ntlworld.com to be added to the mailing list. You can find details of all nine of Alan’s books at www.alanmcdermottbooks.co.uk.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  When writing about MI5, one has to take certain liberties; the organization isn’t known for opening its doors to the public. I would therefore like to thank Matt Johnson for his help in making this book more realistic than it would otherwise have been. Not only is Matt a great author, he’s also a top bloke.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2017 Darlene McDermott

  Alan McDermott is a husband and a father to beautiful twin girls, and currently lives in the south of England. Born in West Germany to Scottish parents, Alan spent his early years moving from town to town as his father was posted to different army units around the United Kingdom. Alan has had a number of jobs since leaving school, including working on a cruise ship in Hong Kong and Singapore, where he met his wife, and as a software developer creating clinical applications for the National Health Service. Alan gave up his day job in December 2014 to become a full-time author. Alan’s writing career began in 2011 with the action thriller Gray Justice, his first full-length novel.