“Thanks for the kind words, David. I appreciate it. But the truth is I didn’t do enough. Not for me. I can’t walk away from this yet.”
“No one’s asking you to walk away. We just need some help to reach the finish line.”
“That’s not how things work, and you know it. If we send the balloon up, London will parachute in a whole new team. They’ll replace both of us.”
“We don’t know that.”
“We do. It’s how things work. Like my friend Callum, in Edinburgh. Did I tell you about him?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Well, Callum’s ex-navy. And he was in bed one night, fast asleep, with his wife. Then a noise woke him up. It was coming from outside. He looked through the window, and saw four guys burgling his garage. So he called the police, right away. And do you know what they said?”
“No.”
“I can’t remember their exact words. But it was along the lines of ‘Tough luck, pal.’ They couldn’t have been less interested. So do you know what Callum did?”
“Went outside and shot the burglars?”
“Nearly right. He called the police back a few minutes later and pretended that’s what he’d done. And guess what? Four squad cars and an armed response unit were on his lawn inside four minutes.”
“That’s a lovely story, Richard. But it doesn’t mean we’d be replaced.”
“Of course it does. It just goes to show. People like the brass in London can put their hands on whatever resources they want, whenever they want. The preferences of people like us don’t count. Which may be OK with you—you never wanted this assignment in the first place. But it’s a major problem for me.”
“Why? You can’t bring Milton back. Finding the gas and stopping McIntyre is what counts. Your job is to make that happen as quickly and efficiently as possible.”
“David, please. There’s something you need to know about me. I’m old school. That doesn’t just mean I wear good suits and drink vintage champagne. It means I’m not an ‘end justifies the means’ type guy. It means I care about how the job is done, not just getting the right result. I care about the people I work with. And never, not once, have I turned my back on an obligation. I’ve never left a man behind, and I’ve never left a score unsettled. And I’m not prepared to start now.”
I had nothing to say about that.
“So,” he said. “I’m asking you. For Milton’s sake. For my sake. Give me twenty-four hours?”
I didn’t respond.
“Please,” he said. “They’re only keeping me in overnight. We could meet at the office, first thing. Get our heads together. See if we can’t find a way to make this right.”
FIFTEEN
If there’s one thing the navy relies upon, it’s the ability to make plans.
I’ve been subject to literally thousands of them over the years. They make them in response to every conceivable situation. Some have worked well, so I’ve adapted them to other situations. Others have been shambolic, so I’ve abandoned them halfway through. You get to the point where you can tell from the first few lines whether they’re going to be any good. Sometimes you can even recognize who wrote them, from the style and layout and general approach. But there’s one thing I’ve noticed that applies to all plans, regardless of purpose or quality.
The danger or difficulty is always inversely proportional to the degree to which the author will be personally involved.
I’m no fan of mornings, but even so, Fothergill’s idea of early didn’t match mine. I’d been in his easy chair for a good half hour before he finally showed his face. He was freshly shaved, his silver hair was glistening from the shower, and he was wearing an immaculate charcoal gray suit I hadn’t seen him in before. There was no sling to match this one, though. Just the standard-issue hospital one the medics had given him last night.
“Oh, David, there you are,” he said, when he’d stepped into the room and closed the door. “Sorry to keep you. The doctors were very sticky about letting me go. Seems they were worried about this burn on my hand. I talked them around in the end, but they wouldn’t back down till I’d let them change the bandages, at least. And then I had to pop home on my way over, to grab some fresh togs.”
“Did you grab any coffee, while you were there?” I said.
“No. Sorry. I wanted to get over here as quickly as possible, so we could get started.”
“OK, then. Let’s start. Thoughts?”
“Well, time is limited. So I think we should go for two birds, one stone. Tony, and the gas.”
“Good in theory. Any ideas for making that happen?”
“Yes. Start with Tony. Last night. He was pretty motivated to get his hands on the gas, wasn’t he? Acting like a pirate in the middle of a city street? Taking Milton’s life?”
“He was. But that seems to be his mode. He comes across as a fairly wholehearted kind of guy.”
“True. But my point is this: Why was getting the gas back so important? To want it so badly, he must really need it. For something specific. Something urgent.”
“OK. Seems reasonable.”
“So, tie that in with what he said about meeting his ‘friends’ again. By which I’m assuming he meant those guys from Myene.”
“You think he’d risk being involved with them again? After the state they had him in at the machine shop?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
Fothergill moved over to his favorite window and started to gaze out.
“I can’t tell you, exactly,” he said. “But it’s the only explanation that makes any kind of sense. Maybe it’s about the money.”
“You think he’s that greedy?” I said.
“It could be greed. Or something less straightforward, like a kind of revenge. Forcing them to buy back their own stuff.”
“That seems like a pretty convoluted kind of revenge. I don’t buy it.”
“Something else altogether, then. Like he thinks they won’t stop chasing him till he’s made good on what he owes them. But the point is this: It gives us a key advantage. It tells us where he’s going to be, and when.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’ll be meeting his buyers. Tonight.”
“Well, obviously. But where will he be meeting them? What time?”
Fothergill moved closer to me.
“I don’t know the specifics,” he said. “Not yet. But I know how to find out.”
“How?” I said.
“The IT guys. They’ve been in all night, working on it.”
“Working on what?”
“Those hard drives. They’re bound to dig something out of them. I bet they’ll have something for us pretty soon. Maybe this morning, even.”
“Was it just hard drives you gave them? Or crystal balls, too? ’Cause I don’t see how they’re going to find details of events that weren’t even dreamed of when you found all that stuff.”
“Sorry, David. I skipped ahead. I meant to say, what I’m looking for from the IT guys is some way of getting hold of the buyers. That’s all we need.”
“How will that help?”
“This is what we do. We know they want as much gas as possible. That’s why they were prepared to buy from you, yesterday. So, we hook you up again.”
“So I meet them. String them along a little. What then?”
“Well, assuming you don’t kill any of them, you worm your way in. Gain their trust. Make your way along the chain till you come across Tony. Then you finish things.”
“All before tonight? Did they slip you some steroids, at that hospital?”
“I know. There’s a lot there. But let’s break it down. The first dependency is IT. If they can’t find some way to get in contact, we won’t have much chance.”
“Given the time pressure, make that no chance.”
“I guess you’re right. But that’s out of our hands, so let’s not worry about it. Let’s assume, for now anyway, that the eggheads come through. The next problem will be getting a meeting set up. We need it to be today. What do you think? Doable?”