Then there was the Indonesian consideration. Of course, Jakarta was anxious to have the bombers nailed asap. Their country’s image had taken another severe dent in the wake of the attack: that the place was a haven for terrorists and Jakarta wasn’t doing enough to stamp it out. Furthermore, the country was in an uproar with increasingly violent anti-US and — Australian demonstrations. Finding the people responsible for the attack and dealing with them quickly would quieten Indonesia…Griffin was getting off the track.
‘Sir?’ asked Ferallo.
‘Sorry, I was just thinking,’said Griffin. ‘Tom, if you volunteer for this op, it’s to go as an observer up until the point of capture. I don’t want you participating in the operation itself. Colonel?’
‘I’m more comfortable with that, sir,’ said Hardcastle.
‘And if the Israelis manage to bag Kadar Al-Jahani, you and Atticus will accompany him out of the country,’ said Griffin.
Hardcastle nodded agreement.
‘There’s a C-5 departing Townsville to Diego Garcia tomorrow, sir,’ Monroe said cheerfully. ‘I can have Warrant Officer Wilkes loaded as my excess baggage.’
‘Tom,’ said Hardcastle, ignoring Monroe, ‘if you refuse to take on this assignment I promise you it will not reflect badly on you in any way. We’ve discussed your operational status already and this is as good a time as any to put it to the test. The final decision is up to you.’
The D-G stood and shuffled together a sheaf of papers. ‘Let me know your answer quickly, Tom,’ he said.
‘The answer’s yes, sir,’ said Wilkes, kicking himself. He needed a good stretch of R & R and he wanted — no, needed — to spend some time with Annabelle. And while he’d never been to Israel, he was well aware of the situation there, as was everyone who had access to a news bulletin. The place was a mess, despite all attempts to restart the peace process. So why go? This was his job, what he was trained to do. Sort of. And as for not reflecting badly on him if he chose to sit on the beach instead? Bullshit. When you started turning things down, people started questioning your commitment. Simple as that.
Griffin paused at the doorway. ‘Thanks, Tom. Why am I not surprised? Andrew, thank you also.’
Hardcastle stood to go. The meeting was concluded. ‘Watch out for yourself, Tom,’ he said as he left the room.
‘Tom,’ said Griffin, popping his head back around the door, ‘I’ll get DIO to put some background notes together for you to read on the plane so you know what you’re walking into. And by the way, meet your new boss.’ He gestured with his folder at Gia Ferallo. ‘Ms Ferallo.’
‘Welcome to the CIA, Tom,’ said Ferallo.
The woman was standing, looking straight at him, and her hands were on her hips. Gone was the twinset and pearls girl. And, for the first time, Wilkes noticed how attractive she was. At five foot nine, Ferallo was slightly taller than him, and slender. Thick auburn hair that turned naturally blond at the tips framed her face and fell with a bounce below her shoulders. She had olive skin with eyes the colour of bright green glass. Her accent was broad — a New Yorker, probably, and from the poorer part of town from the sound of things, but she wore it like a badge of honour.
‘Thanks, Ms Ferallo,’ said Wilkes.
‘Call me Gia.’ She smiled and it was a warm, genuine smile that made her green eyes sparkle.
‘Oh-kay,’ said Monroe, aware of the electricity in the air. ‘Think I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted. Things to do, people to see.’ He stopped to shake Tom’s hand on the way out. ‘Heard a lot about you SAS types. But I’m sure it’s all hype.’
‘And you’ll be the judge,’ said Wilkes, wondering whether to take Monroe seriously.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘See you tomorrow morning. Dress to kill, dude.’
‘Don’t mind Atticus,’ said Ferallo when he’d left. ‘He’s cocky, but he’s good.’
At what?
It was obvious to Ferallo that Wilkes remained unconvinced. ‘You’ll both get along fine. Trust me.’
‘I’m sure,’ said Wilkes. He glanced at the wall clock. ‘Whoa,’ he said. ‘If I hurry, I can catch my flight.’
‘Hey, why don’t you come with Atticus and me? I’m heading up north to have a quick look around. Never been there. We’re catching a VIP flight up a little later.’
‘I would, but…’
Wilkes’s body language told Ferallo he’d already decided against it. ‘Well then, have a drink with me in Townsville this evening and I’ll give you some background on CIA procedures.’
Part of him was tempted, but being around a woman like this for any length of time could be dangerous, and Wilkes didn’t want anything to complicate things with Annabelle. Not now.
‘Um…happy to do the briefing, Gia, but I have a date planned with my fiancée.’
‘Oh,’ said Ferallo, a little surprised. ‘I didn’t know you were…Never mind,’ she said, forcing a smile.
Townsville, Queensland, Australia
Wilkes’s plane had been delayed. It didn’t touch down until nearly eight pm. He hadn’t phoned Annabelle during the day to tell her that he’d be back for the evening. He’d wanted to surprise her. But when he did phone, he was the one who’d received the surprise. Annabelle hated going to bars, but that’s apparently where she was. And there was something strange, almost guilty, in her voice.
Wilkes strolled into the dimly lit bar at around 2030 hrs, but he felt like it was closer to three in the morning. Meetings did that to him, and he’d had a day of them. Annabelle was perched on a high stool, legs crossed, sipping a cocktail. Men were gathered around her and she was enjoying the attention. This mightn’t have been her style, but she seemed to be lapping it up anyway.
‘Hey, Belle…’
‘Hi,’ she said with a wave through the gathering. She appeared pleased to see him, but there was that something else, unsure and unspoken. She kissed him quickly on the lips when he managed to squeeze through, just as another man joined them.
‘Tom, this is Steve, Steve Saunders. Steve — Tom. My fiancé.’
‘You’re a lucky man, Tom,’ said Saunders, holding out his hand.
Tom shook it automatically. It was pudgy, and Saunders had just returned from the bathroom so the hand was also wet. Saunders was around forty-five, with perfectly combed hair, a tanned face and a pink shirt with white collar, the two top buttons undone revealing a nest of grey hair.
‘Yes, very lucky,’ Tom said, his other arm around Annabelle’s waist.
‘Steve’s up from Sydney. He’s the ANTV Network News executive producer.’
‘Ah, the big kahuna,’ said Tom.
‘Exactly, Tom, so we have to be nice to him,’ said Annabelle, playing the part and rewarding Saunders with her best smile. Annabelle was wearing her usual preferred style of clothing, something stretchy and tight that showed off her figure. Wilkes didn’t like the way Saunders looked at her, as if he was about to tuck into a banquet.
‘I’ve just been congratulating Annabelle, Tom. She’s got a big future in the network. She could go all the way,’ said Saunders, toasting Annabelle with a bright green cocktail. ‘Get you something?’
‘Ah, just a beer, thanks,’ said Wilkes.
The beer arrived pronto. It tasted good, so he drank half straight away.
‘Thirsty,’ said Annabelle, giving his leg a reassuring squeeze.
Tom forced a smile.
‘So, have you told Tom yet?’ asked Saunders.
‘Told Tom what?’ Wilkes asked.
Annabelle took one of his hands in both of hers, like she was about to propose. ‘Tom, as I said, Steve’s the network producer. He’s here because, well, they want me in Sydney.’