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‘But if you’re the accuser. .’

‘Starts to look bad if I have an accident. Doesn’t make me safe, but sure as hell gives them something to think about.’

‘And where does that leave me?’

‘They won’t touch you.’

‘Glad you’re so confident.’

‘If journalists were fair game you’d be an endangered species by now. Anyway, there are better ways to manipulate a story than killing the messenger. They’re counting on the fact that given enough time all this will go away.’

‘And will it?’

‘Everything does in time.’

‘So why keep pressing?’

Lock smiled, reached over and refilled both their glasses. ‘Because I’m an asshole like that.’

She reached down into her bag and pulled out a bulging manila envelope. ‘I know. Which is why I’ve brought you everything I’ve managed to gather on Meditech. And the retired Colonel Brand.’

He took the envelope. ‘You mind me reading at the table?’

‘If you can in this light.’

He flipped to the stuff on Brand, and two words caught his eye. Abu Ghraib.

‘He was there when Lindy King and her boyfriend were keeping prisoners on a short leash,’ Carrie said.

‘So how come no one ever heard of him?’ Lock asked as he read on.

As soon as the photographs from Abu Ghraib came to light, Brand had been offered, and accepted, an honourable discharge. If he had known what was going on there he’d been savvy enough to keep his face out of the frame.

‘Meditech did a full service check when they took me on. Spoke to a bunch of people. They must have done the same for Brand.’

‘Maybe that’s why they took him on,’ said Carrie.

Later that evening, they made love at Carrie’s apartment. It wasn’t like it had been before. It was slower, with more of a connection. Before it had been recreational. This felt like the prelude to something that went deeper.

Afterwards, Carrie snuggled up next to him, her head on his chest. She drifted off to sleep, still cradled in Lock’s arms. No Harry Met Sally quandary for Lock. It felt good. They lay like that for a long time.

When she woke, it was still dark and he wasn’t there any more. Angel must have snuck in and was asleep at the foot of the bed. Carrie got up and put on her robe. She walked through into the living room.

Lock was standing by the window, putting on his jacket while staring down at the empty street below. ‘It’s early, go back to bed.’

She yawned, stretching her arms above her head. ‘I get up early.’

‘Not this early.’

‘Why? What time is it?’

‘Four.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Brooklyn.’

‘At four in the morning?’

He walked over to her and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘Best time to see Brooklyn. When it’s pitch-black.’

Forty-nine

Sunrise was still a distant threat as Lock and Ty, dressed in full black-out gear, made a dash for the secondary perimeter fence of the Meditech complex.

Lock wet his finger and jabbed it at the fence to see if it was electrified.

‘I bet you shoved forks into power sockets when you were a kid just to see what would happen, didn’t you?’ Ty asked.

‘A blue flash and you get thrown halfway across the room.’

‘And you know not to do it again,’ Ty said.

‘Nope, did it again a year later. Wanted to make sure it hadn’t been a one-off.’

Lock stopped, took the entire inner area of the compound in with one sweeping look. His eyes settled on the accommodation block.

‘OK,’ Ty said, ‘so we’ve looked. Now let’s get the hell out of here.’

‘What’s that over there?’

‘I don’t know, man. This is as far as I’ve been.’

‘Then what does it look like?’

Ty scanned the same fence as Lock had, picked out the same razor wire, noted the way it curved back in on itself. The curve of the top of a fence could tell you a lot. Most crucially, was it there to keep someone out or keep someone in?

‘Looks like a brig,’ Ty said.

‘So what’s a scale model of Guantanamo Bay doing in the middle of a research complex?’

Ty looked skywards. ‘How should I know?’

‘You go back. I’m going to take more of a look around.’

‘OK, I’ll meet you out front,’ said Ty reluctantly.

Lock tossed him his keys and watched him disappear into the gloom. Then, putting down the black knapsack, he took out a pair of wire cutters and set to work in an area where the surveillance camera was directed across a broad sweep of open ground beyond the fence.

In less than two minutes there were two slits in the fence, far enough apart that he could slip through. Safely on the other side, he rolled the fence back down so that, at least from a distance, it looked intact. Then he quickly paced out the distance from the nearest metal fence pole to his ready-made escape hatch.

As Lock put the wire cutters back in his knapsack, he felt the barrel of an M-16 press into the small of his back.

‘You know, Lock, if you wanted the grand tour, you only had to ask.’

Fifty

Lock lay face down on the ground while they searched him, taking his wallet, cell phone and Gerber. His 226, thankfully, was back in his car.

Brand scrolled down the names on Lock’s cell. He stopped at Ty, held up the display so Lock could see it. ‘He’s still outside waiting for you. Better tell him you’ll find your own way back, that you didn’t find what you were looking for and that you’re going out of town for a while.’

‘And why would I want to do that?’

‘I thought he was your buddy. You wouldn’t want to drag him into this any further than you already have, would you?’

Brand hit the green call button and handed the cell back to Lock. He then took an M-16 from one of the two men with him, tucked the stock into his shoulder and pressed the business end into the centre of Lock’s forehead.

‘Ty? Yeah, listen, no need to hang around. . No, I found a different exit. Listen, I have a few things to do. I’ll catch up with you in a few days.’ He paused. ‘No, man, I’m fine.’

He ended the call and Brand snatched the cell back from him, powered it down and jammed it into his pocket.

‘Now, you want that tour or not?’

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘Nope. It’s like the old Chink curse. Be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it.’

They reached what Lock guessed was the main entrance to what Ty thought had looked like a brig. There was no handle or external lock. It simply clicked open.

‘No expense spared, huh?’ he asked Brand.

‘Not when you see what we have inside.’

‘Oh, I’m as giddy as a kid at Christmas,’ Lock shot back.

Inside there was a hallway. It was about six feet wide, and extended about thirty feet, ending in a door of a similar type to the one they’d just come through. The walls were bare whitewashed concrete.

‘This where you kept the kid?’ Lock asked Brand.

‘Just keep walking.’

They reached the next door and stopped. Brand pushed past Lock and went ahead. ‘I’m going to prepare your room.’

The door clicked open and Brand walked through it, leaving Lock with the two guards. On the other side, Brand called for another two-man team to join him at the door into one of the cells. They were instructed to bring his riot gear down with them.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Finally, Lock could hear heavy boots and a door being opened followed by the sound of a brief but violent struggle. Then the door facing him opened again and Brand stepped through, removing his helmet. He had deep scratch marks running down one side of his face, but he was smiling. ‘Wanna meet your new roomie?’