Adrian Magson - Red Station

‘So she’d have known when it was going to be shut down.’

‘Exactly.’ He looked grim. ‘Her father’s been suspended.’

‘And the boyfriend?’

‘Nothing. Friends say she’d only recently met him in a local club and she was besotted. He showed particular interest in her birdwatching. Apart from that, he’s a mystery.’

‘Meaning bent — he’s got to be.’

‘But how do we prove it?’

‘There’s only one way. We find where that bloody Land Rover was stashed. After that, it’s up to the Met to trace the boyfriend.’ Harry’s mind went back to the way the young man had held up a hand towards the incoming boat. Was it the gesture of an innocent man seeing the gun — and making a vain attempt to ward off the shot that followed?

Or a not so innocent man finding himself in the middle of a police trap and trying to tell his friends on the boat that he hadn’t betrayed them?

It was nearly dark by the time they reached the river in central London. Rik had already jumped out at New Cross, saying he would be in touch. Shoulders bunched against the cold and damp, he had merged swiftly with the crowd near the station.

‘He doesn’t say much,’ said Maloney, pulling into the traffic.

‘He’s in IT. He’s been through a steep learning curve. Good, though. Steady under pressure. I trust him.’

‘That’s enough for me.’ Maloney smiled. ‘You haven’t exactly had a lot of that, have you? Trust.’

Harry didn’t say anything. He’d filled Maloney in about Red Station, its members, the Clones, their narrow escape from Latham. Nikolai. With the telling, he was once more feeling drained. And now, with Rik gone, it was as if a string had been broken.

He thought about trust, and those who knew him. ‘What’s the chatter?’ he asked. The security industry was secret, but people still gossiped. The nuts and bolts of the shooting would have got out eventually.

‘You were handed a shitty deal,’ said Maloney. ‘Everyone knows it, too. If you were spotted right now, there’s not many would go out of their way to turn you in.’

‘Thanks. But it’s not them I have to worry about.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ He started to say something else, then stopped.

‘What?’ said Harry.

Maloney picked at the steering wheel. ‘Whoever’s behind all this… they’ll be seriously worried about you, Harry. You and your mate. You’re the bogey who should have stayed in the cupboard.’

‘Are you saying I’m on another hit list?’

Maloney smiled at the irony in his voice. ‘Yeah… I suppose you wouldn’t be too bothered — not after what you’ve been through.’

Harry got Maloney to drop him off in Southwark. He knew a small hotel where he could hide for a few days and acclimatize himself once more to the noise and pace of London. With Waterloo station nearby, it provided him with an invaluable melting pot of humanity in which to lose himself should the need arise. All those entrances and exits, crammed with people; he actually felt safer when it was within reach.

Maloney handed him a mobile phone and a slip of paper.

‘Pay As You Go disposable,’ he said. ‘Same as mine. Ring if you need to. And the address of a doctor so you can get your arm looked at. He’s five minutes from here and knows not to talk. Mind your back.’

‘You, too. Thanks for your help. But stay clear from now on… it could be bad for your career.’

Harry met Rik the following morning in a burger bar near Waterloo station. He wanted to discuss tactics. He had already visited Maloney’s friendly doctor for a change of bandages and a pronouncement that the wound was free of infection.

They found a table against the back wall. Harry had checked the rear and found a fire exit leading down to a narrow side street.

‘Is this what it’s going to be like?’ said Rik, twirling a tall mug of Cola. He sounded depressed. ‘Eyes in the back of our heads and frightened to go out anywhere?’

‘It doesn’t have to be.’ Harry tried not to scratch at his arm. It was driving him nuts. ‘Not if I can help it.’

‘Hope not. My mother’s already asking when am I going back to work. She’s not used to me being at home like this.’

‘It won’t be much longer.’ Harry sipped his coffee. It was worse than the stuff he’d been drinking in Georgia. At least that brew had a kick to it.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘Before we left, Mace gave me two names. One is Sir Anthony Bellingham.’

Rik nodded. ‘MI6. Something to do with operations.’

‘Right. He’s the one who set up Red Station… also the one who set Latham on us.’

Rik stared down at the table. ‘You do pick them, don’t you? Who’s the other one — the PM?’

‘Marcella Rudmann.’

‘Oh. Yeah. The one on the Joint Intelligence Committee.’ To Harry’s surprise, Rik began to look shifty.

‘You’ve heard of her.’

‘Sort of.’

‘How sort of?’

Rik shifted awkwardly in his seat. ‘She was one of the names I was looking at when I got caught and tabbed.’

Harry chuckled. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘No. I was looking through some operation files to do with Afghanistan and saw her name attached to a JIC note. I wondered who she was, that was all.’ He picked at the table with his thumbnail. ‘I… uh, took a look around her computer files.’ He looked abashed. ‘She’s got a secret boyfriend.’

‘So what? It happens, you know — even among politicians. Especially politicians. It’s called sex.’

‘I know. But she’s already in a long-term relationship.’

‘I think you need to get out more.’

‘With a woman.’

‘Ah. Really? That’s different.’ Harry lifted an eyebrow. Information was power. The only question was, if push came to shove, would he use it? ‘Anyone I’d know?’

‘Her partner’s in politics — a second secretary or something like that. The boyfriend’s in pharmaceuticals. Very big.’ He shrugged. ‘I got out of there quick.’

Harry breathed deeply, his mind working. ‘Did you leave a trace?’

‘No!’ Rik looked affronted.

‘Could you get into the files again — if you had to?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good. For now, get me her home address and phone number.’

‘No problem. I’ll access the Civil Service Directory.’

Harry nearly laughed. ‘It’s as simple as that?’

‘Well, not quite. There’s a gateway to a sub-level directory for specialist contacts; I’ll have to go through that first. But it’s doable. Why do you need her stuff?’

‘Because she’s in the right job, powerful, connected and I want to unsettle her. If I just ring her at the office and say “Hi, honey, I’m home” she’ll have the Rottweilers on our backs before I put the phone down. I have to get to her in a way that won’t get me arrested.’

‘Oh. OK.’

‘Then there’s Bellingham.’

‘I was afraid you’d get round to him. He’s bad news. His address won’t be on file.’

‘Probably not. But he’s the main mover behind this, along with Paulton. And any time I want him, he’ll be in Vauxhall Cross.’

‘But you can’t go in there.’

‘I don’t intend to.’

‘What, then?’

‘I want you to access Clarion.’

‘What?’ Rik nearly overturned his drink and scrambled to rescue it, attracting a scowl from the woman behind the counter. Probably thinks we’re discussing a drugs deal, thought Harry.

He handed Rik a tissue. ‘Take it easy. We can do this.’

‘No way, man — you’re nuts!’

‘Well, if it’s beyond you.’ Harry shrugged and began to get up.

‘No. Wait… I can. I will. Just… give me a second.’ Rik finished mopping the table and tossed the sodden tissue aside. ‘That was a low blow.’ He looked genuinely hurt.