Stephen Leather - False Friends

He started walking towards the college, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. Part of him wanted to do another double-back but he knew that would be too obvious. He checked reflections in the shop windows but the angles were wrong and he couldn’t get a clear view directly behind him.

It wasn’t until he’d reached the entrance to King’s that he had the opportunity to glance to his right, but he could do it casually for only a second or two and there were simply too many people to register them all.

He walked inside, showing his student ID, and then took out his mobile phone. Standing with his back to the wall he pretended to make a call. Through the window he watched businessmen and shoppers walk to and fro, all of them moving purposefully, getting from A to B as quickly as possible. Jobs to get to, shopping to be done, appointments to be kept. Then he saw him. His hands still in his Puffa jacket, walking slowly and looking around as if trying to work out what went on inside the building. Chaudhry turned away and went up to the canteen, his heart pounding, the silent phone pressed tightly against his ear.

Shepherd had just returned from a run on the Heath when his John Whitehill BlackBerry rang. It was Chaudhry. ‘Yes, Raj, what’s up?’ he said, tossing his weighted rucksack on to a kitchen chair.

‘I think I’m being followed,’ said Chaudhry.

Shepherd was about to open the fridge door and grab himself a bottle of chilled water but he stopped, his hand outstretched. ‘Tell me what happened,’ he said.

Chaudhry explained what had happened in the Strand and at the college. ‘What should I do?’ he asked.

‘First, you need to take it easy,’ said Shepherd. He could hear the stress in the man’s voice, the clipped words and the ragged breathing. ‘You’re safe where you are, so even if there is a tail nothing can happen while you’re at King’s. What about Harvey?’

‘I don’t know. He’d already gone when I left the flat.’

‘I’ll talk to him,’ said Shepherd. ‘Have you got lectures all day?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘So what time would you normally leave?’

‘Five-ish. What are you going to do?’

Shepherd sat down and took off his boots. ‘I’m going to sort this out, Raj, don’t worry. Stay where you are and just carry on as normal. I’ll put together a team to watch over you when you go home tonight, then we’ll know for sure.’

‘But what if they. .’ He didn’t finish the sentence.

‘What, Raj? Spit it out.’

‘I don’t want to end up dead,’ said Chaudhry. ‘What if this is al-Qaeda? What if they know what I’m doing? Maybe it’s time to call it a day.’

‘Raj, you’re getting ahead of yourself. You need to relax. If there’s a tail that’s all it is, a tail. If they wanted to take you they’d have done it as you left the flat. Or lured you somewhere quiet. If you are being followed then you’re not in any danger.’

‘What do you mean “if”? Don’t you believe me?’

‘You’re under quite a lot of stress at the moment, Raj; you might be a bit oversensitive, that’s what I’m saying. But by this evening we’ll know for sure. Until then you need to carry on as usual.’

‘I’m shitting myself here,’ said Chaudhry.

‘I know you are, Raj. But there’s no point in counting chickens. I’m on the case so you’ll be followed every step of the way from college to your flat and if there’s any hint of a problem we’ll pull you out.’

‘You swear?’ asked Chaudhry.

‘Raj, mate, there’s no way I’ll put you in harm’s way. I promise. Now get on with being a student and keep your phone on. I’ll fill you in once I’ve got everything sorted. And don’t leave the campus, for any reason, until you hear from me.’

Shepherd ended the call. He dialled Malik’s number but it went straight through to voicemail. Shepherd didn’t leave a message. He shaved, showered and put on a blue polo shirt and black jeans, then tried Malik’s number again. It went through to voicemail again and this time Shepherd left a message asking him to call back.

Malik returned the call as Shepherd was in the back of a black cab heading towards Thames House.

‘Where are you, Harvey?’

‘University,’ said Malik. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Probably nothing,’ said Shepherd. ‘But Raj thinks someone might have been following him this morning.’

‘Oh fuck,’ said Malik.

‘It might be nothing — it’s easy to start jumping at shadows when you’re under pressure,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m going to get some of our people to follow Raj home and then we’ll know one way or another. What about you, Harvey? Did you notice anything today?’

‘No, but I wasn’t looking for it. What should I do?’

‘Can you stay where you are until later this evening?’

‘I was planning to hit the library anyway, so yes.’

‘How about you stick to that? Stay put until you hear from me this evening. If we find that Raj does have a tail we’ll put a counter-surveillance team on you as well.’

‘This is bad, isn’t it, John? We could be fucked.’

‘Or it could be nothing. We’ll take it one step at a time. But if you see anything that worries you over the next few hours, you call me straight away.’

‘Bloody right I will,’ said Malik.

‘Harvey, it’s going to be just fine,’ said Shepherd. ‘I give you my word that nothing bad’s going to happen.’

He ended the call as the taxi pulled up in front of Thames House, wishing that he felt as confident as he sounded.

‘So, you a spy, then?’ asked the taxi driver.

Shepherd had been deep in thought so he missed the question. ‘Sorry, what?’

The driver jerked his thumb at the building. ‘MI5. You a spy?’

Shepherd took out his wallet and handed the driver a twenty-pound note. ‘I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you,’ he said.

‘They all say that,’ said the driver. ‘Everyone I drop here pretends to be James bloody Bond.’

‘He was MI6,’ said Shepherd. He nodded at the note. ‘Keep the change,’ he said. ‘And can I have a receipt?’

The driver laughed. ‘See, that James Bond, you never see him asking for receipts, do you?’

There was no name on the door, just a number, but Shepherd knew that it was the office of Luke Lesporis and he knocked twice before opening it. Lesporis looked up, pushing his wire-framed designer spectacles up his nose as Shepherd came in.

‘You sounded rushed on the phone, Spider, what’s up?’ The jacket of his Hugo Boss suit was draped over the back of his chair and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

‘Remember the two guys I took to Reading, the ones you helped arrange the training exercise for?’

‘Sure, Raj Chaudhry and Harvey Malik, right? The guys we followed to St Pancras.’

‘Yeah. I need to run counter-surveillance on Raj. He’s a student at King’s College in the Strand. That’s where he is now.’

‘What’s the story?’ asked Lesporis, picking up a pen.

‘He thinks someone followed him from the tube station. Asian man, blue Puffa jacket, brown cargo pants.’

‘Professional, you think?’ asked Lesporis as he scribbled on a yellow legal pad.

‘I’m tempted to say no because Raj is a complete amateur. But he might just have been lucky. He did a backtrack and almost stumbled over the guy.’

‘How long have we got?’

Shepherd looked at the clock on the wall. It was just before ten. ‘He’s got lectures all morning. We could send him home at lunchtime, or I could get him to stay in the building all day. Whatever works best for you.’

‘The latter,’ said Lesporis. ‘I’m really pushed today. We’ve got three ongoing operations and I’ve just had to put together a rush job on a Saudi diplomat who’s arriving at Heathrow in an hour with a million euros in a suitcase.’