“They’ll provide hardware?”
“I’ve got that sorted. They’ve got an armory here that I think would make even your old unit blush with envy.”
“Okay. We can land this evening. How do we get to you?”
Will smiled. “Just wait at the airport. They’ll take care of everything else. But a word of warning-don’t fall for the pretty woman’s charms.”
Sarah stopped on the Isle of Wight coastal footpath and looked down the cliff toward the sea. She was wearing corduroy trousers, mountain boots, and a thick Aran sweater underneath an oilskin coat.
As she turned to Betty, a sea breeze blew her hair away from her face. “James and I have decided to move out of London. Our law firm has been very good about things. They think my illness and absence from work has been related to the stress of London life. For the last twelve months, they’ve been considering opening a branch in Edinburgh, and they’ve just asked us to be partners of the office.”
Betty thrust her hands into her tweed jacket and nodded approvingly. “It’ll do you both a world of good. Will you live in the city?”
“No. The great thing about Edinburgh is that it’s surrounded by countryside. We’ll get a place there, commute in.” She lowered her head. “A new life.”
“You’ll have to tell Will. He’ll miss you.”
“He never saw us in London,” Sarah huffed. “Alfie said my brother might die soon.”
“Sometimes my husband talks nonsense. Just ignore him.”
“It’s true though, isn’t it?”
“Your brother is one of Churchill’s rough men. People like that are hard to kill.”
Sarah frowned.
“Winston Churchill’s quote: ‘People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those who would harm us.’ ”
“Well, you can add my father into that category of men. A knife killed him.”
Betty wondered how to respond, because she knew that Alfie and Sarah were right. She breathed in deeply and said with a strident voice, “Come on, petal. We’d better get back to the men before they start killing each other again.”
Roger, Mark, Laith, and Adam looked mad as hell. They’d just been brought to the base and were now standing in one of the barracks. Will and Mikhail were with them, as were some members of the DSI. Like all parts of the base, the long rectangular room had been stripped of all but the most essential of furnishings.
“Five hours to get here!” Laith shook his head, his deep southern voice booming. “I didn’t know Holland was big enough for anywhere to be five hours away.”
Kapitein Derksen laughed. “I think you’re mistaking Holland for Luxembourg.”
“Well, there’s no mistaking the pain behind my eyes.” The ex-Delta operative took a step toward Derksen, and for a moment it looked like he might swing a punch at the man. “Next time you’re in the States, make sure you look me up so I can stick a bag over your head and take you for a nice spin in the trunk of my old Chevy.”
“William.” Superintendent Engert was leaning over a large table covered with maps and other paperwork.
Will moved to her side.
Pointing at a map, she said in a clipped tone, “At thirteen hundred hours, the witness will be moved to this holding pen here. At thirteen thirty hours, the aircraft will land here. It will taxi to this hangar, where it will be searched thoroughly. At the same time, the whole base will be on alert. My men will be in predetermined positions.”
Will stared at the map. “What kind of plane are you using?”
“G-IV-SP.”
“Civilian carrier?”
Engert nodded. “They’re capable of transatlantic flights, but we need it because we want high altitude for part of the flight, plus it can carry fourteen passengers.”
“Threat during takeoff?”
The police commander checked her watch. “Some of my men are already in position.” She prodded her finger against several locations around the base runway and outside the perimeter. “Snipers, assault teams, dogs, plus we’ve got thermal imagery in all the right places, backed up by Claymores and other land mines. The teams will be there until the plane’s high enough to be out of range of a land-based attack. And before you ask, we’ve refined this type of exfiltration over a thousand drills to the point it’s impossible for anyone to get close enough to put a SAM lock on the craft.”
“I presume it’ll be the same for landing in The Hague?”
“Yes, we’re taking no chances.”
Will’s team and Mikhail were now standing around the table, listening to Engert’s briefing.
Roger asked, “Where’s the witness being held now?”
Engert didn’t look up. “In his villa.”
“Villa?”
She smiled. “It’s what we call it, though in reality it’s a fortress within a fortress within a fortress. But he hasn’t been complaining. The rooms are more luxurious than a five-star hotel.” She drummed her fingers and stood upright. “When you land in The Hague, I’ll be there to take over security of the northern base.”
Mikhail asked, “You won’t be traveling with us?”
Engert shook her head and pointed at Derksen. “We take turns escorting high-value targets, but we never travel together. If we both got wiped out in an attack, it would leave too big a hole in the team.” She grinned. “We’re a bit like a royal family in that respect.” Her smile vanished. “Understand this: if an attack is made at any point before the witness takes the stand, my men will use maximum force to fend off the attack. Their sole priority will be protecting the witness. Don’t get in our way.”
Fifty
Will and his men had been given rooms in the base and had been told by Engert that they should get their heads down as there was nothing they could do now until morning. But as he sat on the edge of his military camp bed, Will had no thoughts of sleep. He was tense and felt that everything was out of his control. Ordinarily, he’d take a walk through the base and get some night air to try to clear his head, but the base was on lockdown and in any case Will and his team were highly restricted as to where they were allowed to go. He banged a fist against the bed, frustrated and helpless.
Roger knocked on his open door and leaned against the frame. The CIA officer looked irritated. “Laith’s driving me nuts. Guy’s pacing up and down the corridor like a caged animal.”
“I know how he feels.”
“Yeah, we all do.” The American rubbed a hand over his face. “When I was looking to leave the SEALs, I got approached by the Secret Service, who said they’d be very interested in having someone with my skill set on board. I turned ’em down in a flash, said there was no way I could spend a career protecting folk and just waiting for something unexpected to happen. I opted for SOG instead because they’re the ones who go out and do stuff.”
Will completely understood. In the field, people like him were the hunters, the ones who had power and autonomy, who could define the unexpected. But now that role belonged to Kronos-Will and his team were in reactive mode. He didn’t know how Engert, Derksen, and the rest of DSI coped with the stress of this existence. “What happens if we fail?”
Roger shrugged. “We go home, grab a beer, then wait for the next mission.”
Will was silent.
The CIA officer smiled. “You can’t comprehend that, can you?”
“What?”
“Failure.”
“I can easily comprehend it; everything I’ve done so far has been a failure.”
Roger frowned, shook his head. “This all started with a single sheet of paper going missing. Most people thought you were crazy to pursue this operation, given we had no idea what was on the paper and had zero leads. Look what you’ve achieved to bring us this far.”