“I’ll pass. The coffee will suffice.”
“I think I’ll have the lemon chicken. I’m famished.” The barman took the menu and disappeared back inside.
“Have you spoken to the PM?” said Alpha, feigning nonchalance.
“Yes. He’s asked me to pass on his compliments on the Vitsin operation. Everyone is very pleased. Apart from the Chinese of course.”
“The Chinese are never happy.”
“Well, all the same, they didn’t particularly appreciate us starting a small war on their patch.” A group of bankers appeared on the balcony, laughing raucously, before one of them spotted Worthing and ushered the rest back inside.
“Friends of yours?” said Alpha.
“The members know I like to take my meetings out here. It’s just a bit of courtesy.”
Cheers floated over from the water as two party boats passed each other, waving and raising champagne glasses. The captains’ sounded their horns as the boats parted, prompting more hoots from the partygoers.
“The PM is particularly pleased that we did this without the Americans. Giving the cousins a reminder that we are still around is never a bad thing.”
Alpha smiled. “Indeed.”
“And where is the Vitsin boy now?”
“We have him here in London. He’s perfectly secure.”
“Secure is the least I expected. Is he onside?”
“We don’t know at the moment. He’s not saying anything.”
“Not saying anything? What’s your read?”
“Honestly? I don’t think he is on our team. I don’t think he is on anybody’s team. He’s somewhat of an oddity.”
Worthing reached down and wiped some dust from his trouser leg. “The priority here John is not to utilize what he has. The British government is not some casino banking operation. The priority here is to make sure it cannot be utilized by others.”
“We have certain options to achieve that.”
“I imagine we do. I’ll leave it to your discretion, but let’s just make sure we are back to square one on this. The square when the boy did not exist.”
“I’ll take care of it myself,” said Alpha. “You can rely on me.”
“It seems I can. You know, there have been some rumblings on our side about the competence of your head girl.”
“Oh yes?”
“Let’s just say, she may be leaving the hot seat quicker than she thinks. And that means we need someone we can rely on to replace her.”
The waiter re-appeared and placed the chicken down in front of Worthing. The faint smell of lemon permeated the air.
“I couldn’t agree more Foreign Secretary.”
“There was one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“What about these Met detectives that caused you so much trouble? I’d prefer if we didn’t start a civil war with Home Office over this.”
Alpha took a sip of his coffee. “It’s taken care of. The top brass at the Met doesn’t want a war. The three officers that were working the case will be let go.”
“And what about this other chap? The one they sent undercover. Harper wasn’t it?”
“You won’t hear from him again Sir. No one will.”
“Well… that would be preferable.”
- Chapter 41 -
Off the Grid
A strong smell of bleach filled Harper’s nostrils as his eyes snapped open and he lifted his head a few inches off the metal table. The handcuffs had been replaced with thick metal clamps, fixing him on his back. He looked down at his body. He had been stripped to his underpants. A large purple bruise had spread out from his gunshot wound. Goose bumps covered his skin and he could hardly feel his fingers and toes. A small black dome above him buzzed quietly, watching his every move. He wanted to pity himself, but it was harder than he expected. He’d chosen everything that brought him here. He closed his eyes again and his mother’s voice spoke to him softly inside his head.
“How are you Matt?”
“I’m sorry I don’t call more mum.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I know you’re busy.”
“Yeah, but it’s no excuse.”
The forgiving tone of his mother was replaced by his stepfather’s anger, standing at the front door of their house, refusing to invite him in.
“If you want to see her, she’s in the graveyard.”
“You buried my own mother without me?”
“And where the hell was I supposed to find you?”
“The station.”
“The station said you were indisposed. I told them to get a message to you, but they said it was impossible.”
“You should have insisted.”
“Look Matt, if you want to blame someone else for you not being there, that’s your choice. But we both know the truth here.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“That woman loved you, more than anything, more than she loved me. And you took it all for granted. Like you took your marriage for granted. If it gives you any comfort, you were the only person she wanted to see when she was on her deathbed. It was your name she was calling. It really is a shame you had better things to do with your time…”
A light in the corner clicked on and the door opened inwards. Hate bubbled up inside Harper as Varndon strolled into the room. Neither man spoke as the door slid closed. Varndon smirked as he watched Harper try to pull his fists free from the metal clamps. The skin on his knuckles turned red then white before he settled back down on the table.
“I’m afraid you’re all out of escape routes,” said Varndon, circling him from a safe distance.
“Where the hell am I?” said Harper, spittle gathering around the sides of his mouth.
“You’re not far from Gdansk. It’s a little place the Polish government let us use for our…sensitive interrogations. But that is rather inconsequential at this point.”
“What did you do with Cohen and Russell?”
“Oh, we didn’t have to do anything. Your colleagues were more than willing to take up the slack on that score.”
“You don’t think there’ll be people asking where I am?”
“Who exactly? You seemed to have alienated any friends and family a long time ago. Maybe some of those one-night stands or the hookers you are so fond of will come looking for you. What do you think?”
Harper snorted. “That’s funny. Nearly as funny as when your Russian friends took a few IRA bullets.”
“You think I gave a shit about them?”
“I don’t know, did you?”
“Scum like that comes and goes. They were useful for a few errands, but nothing more. You probably did us a favour in the long run.”
“Who the hell are you Varndon?”
“I am the constant. Governments come and go, but people like me, we remain.”
Varndon rubbed his hand over Harper’s torso until his fingers got to the bullet wound. He tapped it lightly a couple of times and then dug his thumb deep into the flesh. Fresh blood sprayed onto the table and Harper’s shouts filled the room.
“Sadism is not something I have always encouraged in myself,” said Varndon, twisting his thumb amidst Harper’s breathless scream. “It’s just something that I find more opportunities for these days.”
“You fuck…!”
“I’ve only taken it too far once or twice. There was a South American couple I picked up in some nasty little Rio slum. Life is so much cheaper in those types of places. It’s so much easier to ignore the guilt.”
He pulled his thumb out of Harper’s side and wiped the blood on the metal table. Harper gagged as he felt Varndon’s hands slide around his throat and squeeze hard. His head thrashed around, banging against the cold metal as Varndon bared his teeth and pushed his face closer to Harper’s. His attacker’s eyes reddened and moisture ran over his eyelashes and dripped onto Harper’s cheek as he pushed harder on his windpipe. Harper held his breath and waited until their faces were just a few inches apart before slamming his forehead against Varndon’s nose, sending him sprawling across the floor.