Matthew Dunn - Slingshot

“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.”

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.”

Will smiled. “I’ve brought us to a situation of going stir crazy in a Dutch high-security military base.”

Roger burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’ve done just that.” His laugh receded. “We’re keeping well away from Mikhail.”

“Good. Don’t speak to him without me being present.”

“You don’t trust him?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, dumb question.”

“I’m the one who feels dumb right now.” Will stood. “Come on. Let’s get the team together. Texas Hold’em poker. Fifteen dollars big blind. If nothing else, it means one of us will fly out of this base tomorrow with something to show for being here.”

Joanna surveyed Will’s London home with pride and satisfaction. All of the boxes had been unpacked and removed; the West Square apartment was perfect. She looked at the dining room table and tried to picture Will sitting there, eating a meal with a woman, laughing with her. To her surprise, the image came naturally and the event seemed possible. She imagined them retiring to the other end of the living room, Will placing one of his Segovia records on the Garrard turntable, lighting a fire, pouring her a calvados, and sitting next to her on the Edwardian sofa. What would they talk about? Perhaps music, if they had that in common. Or maybe Will would try to impress her with his past exploits in MI6 and the Legion. No, he would never share those memories with someone he liked. He could capture her interest with his knowledge of London and its secrets, knowledge gained from his many walks through the capital’s streets and alleys, though he’d need to omit telling her all the dark secrets. And he could enthrall her by describing the beauty that he’d seen during his overseas travels: Indian mists revealing glimpses of palaces and placid lakes in Rajasthan; shooting stars racing through a blue diamond-encrusted night sky above southern Chile’s archipelago; fishermen and their trained cormorants drifting in tiny boats in the azure lakes of the Jiuzhaigou Valley; and candles being lit across Myanmar’s plain of a thousand pagodas. He’d taken time to see these and a multitude of other stunning places, even though he’d been there to kill men.