‘They, ah, neglected to mention that, sir.’
C finally faced him. The intelligence chief’s expression was anything but reassuring. ‘I understand that you called members of your department in the early hours of this morning and ordered them to prepare a briefing concerning the Democratic Republic of Congo. Why?’
‘A drill, sir. I wanted to test their readiness for an unexpected event.’
‘Hardly your usual procedure.’
‘The world’s changing, sir. We have to change with it.’
C’s cold eyes bored into him. Alderley stood his ground, but could feel himself wilting — until to his relief the other man turned away as one of his desk phones rang. He crossed the room to pick it up. ‘Yes? I see. Send it to me. No, immediately. Alderley is in my office right now — I want him to hear it too.’
He sat behind his desk, beckoning his subordinate over as if he were an unruly child. Trying to cover his trepidation, Alderley stood before him. ‘Hear what, sir?’
‘I had our analysts check the phone calls you made this morning. They also back-traced any other calls received by your people.’ He turned to his computer and clicked the mouse to bring up a file. ‘One came from a previously unused mobile number. I’d like you to hear it.’
Alderley’s heart sank as he heard his own recorded voice. ‘Roy, it’s Peter Alderley again. Okay, listen. Don’t worry about the DR Congo briefing, I’ve got something more important for you to do. I’m going to send some people around to your flat with a laptop.’ His second call to Roy Boxley played through to its conclusion.
C had not taken his eyes from him. ‘Explain,’ he said. ‘Were the people you referred to Wilde and Chase? What was on the laptop?’
‘I…’ Trapped, Alderley hesitated before replying. ‘Sir, I was given information by a source I trust,’ he said, deciding that if he was going down, he would do so fighting. ‘This information regarded illegal operations in DR Congo and a possible conspiracy within SIS itself. In the interests of national security, I decided to begin further investigation on my personal authority as the head of the Africa desk.’
‘I see. And do you have the names of these alleged conspirators?’
‘Yes — but I don’t think it would be appropriate at this time to release that information to anyone but the head of an independent investigative enquiry.’
The two men stared at each other. C remained impassive for a long moment — then reached to his intercom. ‘Send security to my office immediately,’ he barked. ‘Peter Alderley is to be placed in custody. There is a man on his staff called Roy Boxley; have him brought up to me at once.’
‘Yes, sir,’ came his secretary’s alarmed reply.
‘So you’re just going to throw me in a cell?’ said Alderley angrily. ‘I know about Brice — that his resignation was faked so he could help break up the Congo deniably. And I also know he brought something back with him that can be used for a false-flag attack.’
‘I’d advise you to keep such conspiracy theories to yourself, Peter,’ said C icily. The door opened and a pair of large men in dark uniforms entered, batons and Tasers on their belts.
‘If Brice does what I think he’s about to, the damage to the country will be on your head. Sir,’ Alderley added in an acidic tone as the men flanked him.
The intelligence head’s response was a dismissive wave of one hand. ‘Take him away,’ he said, before responding to a buzz from his intercom. ‘Yes?’
‘Sir, Roy Boxley didn’t turn up for work this morning,’ his secretary told him. ‘Should I try to reach him at home?’
‘No,’ C replied as Alderley was led away. ‘I’ll take care of it.’
Fifteen minutes later, a black Range Rover skidded to a halt on the double-yellow lines outside Roy Boxley’s home. The four men who jumped out were unconcerned about parking restrictions. As part of their duties, they were exempt from them… as well as many other laws of the land.
They did not use the buzzer. The burliest of the group carried a solid metal battering ram, which he swung against the door hard enough to smash the jamb. The others rushed inside, guns drawn.
They pounded up to the other floor. The three armed men took up positions on each side of flat twenty-four’s door as the fourth readied the battering ram — and burst it open. His companions rushed in, weapons ready to shoot anyone they found—
Nobody was there. It took only seconds for the other rooms to be checked. ‘Clear!’ each intruder shouted in turn.
‘Control, there’s no one here,’ the leader reported into his headset. ‘I repeat, targets are not here.’
Brice was still in the lock-up, patched into the operation’s communications through his phone. ‘What about the laptop?’ he demanded.
‘There are two desktop machines in one of the rooms,’ came the reply. ‘No sign of any laptops. But there’s a space where one might have been.’
The MI6 officer held in an obscenity. ‘Withdraw and await further orders,’ he snapped. ‘Staite, Waterford: get on the CCTV network. If there’s a camera near Boxley’s flat, go back through the video and see when they left, then track them. You have authority to call on any and all extra resources you need.’ He glanced at the van; while he wanted to oversee the manhunt, he also knew he would soon have to leave to reach his target in time. ‘As soon as you find them, call me. But find them!’
35
Roy gave Eddie an irritated look over his laptop’s screen. ‘You know, glaring at me won’t make it work any faster.’
He and his visitors had decamped from the flat some time earlier after receiving Alderley’s message, Roy bringing them to a trendy coffee shop not far from his home. ‘I’m a regular here,’ he had told them earlier as they settled into a softly lit corner at the rear. ‘They’ll leave us alone. Oh, and they do the best hazelnut macchiato in London. You should try it.’
Nina had taken his advice, but was less than impressed. She’d held in her critiques so he could work, but it was now after eleven o’clock. They were running out of time. ‘How much longer will it take?’
The damaged laptop’s hard drive was connected to Roy’s machine by a cable, the young man’s computer set to remain active even with the lid closed so the scrambled data could be copied and reassembled while on the move. ‘It’s over eighty per cent done,’ he told her. ‘So I’d say… half an hour before we can check the files.’
‘Can’t you only recover the video we’re after?’ Eddie demanded impatiently. ‘We don’t need anything else.’
‘Doesn’t work that way, chap. The computer needs to know which data belongs to which file first. Until the directory’s repaired, it doesn’t know its bits from its bollocks.’
‘But it can be repaired, yes?’ said Nina.
Roy nodded. ‘Looks like there’ll be some missing blocks, but considering that someone put a bullet through it, recovering anything at all is a minor miracle. Luckily, you had me on the case.’
‘The faster, the better,’ said Eddie. He glanced towards the entrance as someone entered the shop, but it was a young woman with a baby. Unless the Increment had really changed their recruitment practices, she was not a threat. All the same, he rechecked that the emergency exit was clear, having chosen their seats for rapid access to it.
‘Can you view any of the directory yet?’ asked Nina. ‘If we can see the dates on the files, we’ll know which one we want — it should be the most recent.’
‘I can certainly try,’ said Roy. He opened a terminal window and entered commands. A list of files scrolled up. ‘We’ve got a bit of it.’ He turned the machine to face her. ‘Should get more as the directory’s filled in, but you might see what you’re after.’