‘I’ve been working with MI6, not 118. They can do quite a bit more with their directory enquiries. But that’s not important.’ He nodded towards the other man. ‘Hugo, why don’t you tell him about the job?’
Castille straightened in his seat. ‘I am working for a private contractor,’ he told Chase. ‘There is a job that has just come up — I would like you to join me on it.’
Chase shook his head. ‘I only got out of the military last year; I don’t want to be going right back into it under another name. And I know it’s big business right now, but I really don’t want to traipse around some godforsaken desert shithole acting as a human shield for a bunch of arseholes from an oil company.’
‘No, no,’ said Castille, gesticulating enthusiastically, ‘this is nothing like that. Do you remember Hal Sullivan?’
Chase glanced at Mac. ‘Your old mate from the Kiwi SAS?’
‘More than just a mate, Eddie,’ Mac told him, nodding. ‘He taught me practically everything I know about being a soldier. He’s a good man.’
‘I have been working for him,’ Castille continued. ‘And it is not bodyguard work. It is, how to describe it? Aid and rescue work — in places where there are men who do not want people to get aid or rescue.’
‘Troubleshooting,’ added Mac. ‘Humanitarian work, but with a fist in the glove if it’s needed. Hal actually approached me about being a partner, and I might have considered it if not for this.’ He thumped his artificial heel on the carpet. ‘It’s right up your street, though. You’d be using your skills to help people. And I know how important that is to you.’
Chase considered his words, before cautiously asking Castille: ‘What’s the job?’
‘A rescue mission,’ said the Belgian. ‘A team of aid workers in Vietnam has been kidnapped by bandits. The father of one of them called on Hal to rescue them; he is putting a team together now.’ A beseeching look. ‘You would be a great help, Edward. You have experience of just this kind of mission.’
‘Yeah, and look how it turned out,’ Chase replied, voice drenched with sarcasm. ‘I married the hostage. And why isn’t the Vietnamese government sorting it out, instead of someone having to hire mercs?’
‘They’re dragging their feet, apparently,’ said Mac. ‘From what I gather, these bandits have the local authorities in their pockets. And going through normal channels in Hanoi could take days — which the hostages might not have.’
‘I am flying out from Heathrow tonight,’ Castille said. ‘Do you have a visa?’
Chase nodded. ‘All the stuff I got in the SAS is still valid, far as I know.’ As part of the preparation for a mission in Cambodia — the very one on which he had met Sophia — he had been issued with visas for all the neighbouring countries, in case the team needed to exit the region by an alternate route.
‘The plane takes off at nine o’clock.’ Castille regarded him hopefully. ‘It would be very good if you were on it with me. I would like your help.’
Chase said nothing, conflicting thoughts running through his mind. His practical side knew he should be demanding more details: the exact location of the operation, who else would be involved, pay and conditions, extraction options. But all those were irrelevant without another question being answered first. ‘Why’d you come to me?’ he finally asked. ‘I’ve been out of the Regiment for a year, and I haven’t exactly been keeping in shape. Married life does that to you — the most exercise I’ve had has been dodging the plates Sophia’s thrown at me.’ That was an exaggeration, as she had only done it once, but it had been a deciding factor in prompting him to move out. ‘And don’t say it’s to help me out of a bind. I told you, I’m not here to accept charity.’
Castille held up his hands. ‘And I am not here to offer it. Edward, I came to you because you are my friend, and I know how good you are at what you do.’
‘Only I don’t do it any more.’
‘There’s nothing worse than a man who wastes his potential,’ Mac said quietly.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Chase snapped, with genuine irritation. ‘I’m in the middle of a fucking divorce! I’ve got her solicitors breathing up my arse trying to make me sign something I don’t want to — if I jet off to bloody Vietnam, they’ll probably use it against me as a case of unreasonable behaviour.’
‘Eddie, you may not want to hear this, but that could be the best thing for you as things stand,’ said the Scot.
‘Maybe it would,’ Chase countered, bitterness now entering his voice, ‘but maybe I don’t want what’s best for me. Maybe I want what I want — which is not to get fucking divorced!’
Mac shook his head. ‘I know exactly how you feel. I’ve been there. But sometimes these things happen — they have to happen. It hurts at the time, but it’s less painful in the long run.’
Chase fixed his former commander with a penetrating stare. ‘And that’s how you felt about splitting up with Angela?’
Mac’s own gaze did not waver. ‘I did what had to be done. The fact that I wasn’t at all happy about it didn’t stop it from being right.’
Another silence, this one longer, before Chase turned back to Castille. ‘Hugo, I’m sorry, but… no. I can’t do it. Thanks for the offer, but… things are just too fucked-up and complicated right now.’ Castille’s expressive face clearly revealed his disappointment. ‘You’ll have to find someone else.’
‘But you are the best person by far,’ the Belgian objected.
‘What about Jason Starkman?’ Mac suggested.
‘Starkman? Fuck him,’ Chase spat with a vehemence that startled both the other men. On their questioning looks, he continued: ‘He’s one of the people Sophia was banging behind my back!’
Mac was genuinely shocked. ‘Jason did that to you? I would never have…’ He shook his head in dismay. ‘Bastard.’
‘Yeah,’ said Chase, still seething. ‘So I wouldn’t exactly recommend him.’
‘He was not on my list,’ Castille said apologetically, ‘but I shall put him on it so I can cross him off again!’
‘Why weren’t you considering him?’ asked Mac.
‘I do not know where he is. I heard he had been approached by some organisation, but since then…’ A shrug. ‘He has vanished. Nobody knows what he is doing.’
‘If he’s got any sense, he’ll stay a long fucking way from me,’ Chase growled. ‘But I can’t do this, Hugo. Sorry.’
The Belgian sighed. ‘I am sorry too, but… I understand.’
There was an awkward pause, which Chase broke by leaning back in his armchair with exaggerated casualness. ‘So. What else have you two arseholes been up to since I saw you last?’
Castille’s offer was not mentioned again during the couple of hours Chase spent with his former comrades, although its shadow was ever-present. Finally, and somewhat reluctantly, the Yorkshireman said goodbye, making mutual promises to keep in touch. ‘If you change your mind…’ said Castille hopefully.
Chase shook his hand firmly. ‘Good luck in Vietnam, Hugo. Keep your head down, eh?’
‘I will.’ Again, Castille’s disappointment was obvious, but this time he let the matter drop. ‘And you do the same, no? I would rather be dodging bullets than dodging lawyers!’
‘Yeah. At least when you’re dodging bullets you get to shoot back.’ Another handshake, both men grinning, then Chase turned to Mac. ‘See you around.’
‘Fight to the end, Eddie,’ Mac replied.
‘Always do.’ They shook hands once more, then Chase departed, heading back out into the cloying urban heat.
He had barely turned the corner from Mac’s house before despondency settled over him like a heavy cloud. Castille’s offer might have come out of the blue, and — Chase kept telling himself — it just wasn’t practical to accept right now, but at least it would have been something. Would tramping through a jungle on a rescue mission really be any worse than sitting around in his miserable little flat?