Stephen Leather - Cold Kill

‘And what about the Uddin brothers?’

‘She’ll take over that operation. Everyone’s keen that we find out who their man is in the Passport Agency.’ He smiled. ‘I’m going to have to stop saying “we”, aren’t I?’

‘I’m going to see them this afternoon at five to collect the money. Will you be handling that or Button?’

Shepherd’s mobile rang. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and grinned. ‘Speak of the devil,’ he said.

Shepherd popped a piece of gum into his mouth and chewed slowly. He didn’t like turning up to meet his new boss with whiskey on his breath, but Button had said she wanted to see him that afternoon and it had been an order rather than a request. He took a black cab and had it drop him a quarter of a mile from the address she’d given him: a shopping street in Marylebone. He doubted she would pull her tailing trick again, but he didn’t want to take the risk. He spent ten minutes making sure he wasn’t being tailed, then headed for the office where they were to meet. The entrance was between two shops – a high-class butcher and a florist. There were three brass nameplates by the door, and an entryphone with three buttons. The three firms were a solicitor’s, a travel agency and an accountant’s. He pressed the button for the accountant and Charlotte Button’s voice crackled on the intercom. ‘Second floor,’ she said.

The door buzzed and Shepherd went in. Button was waiting for him on the second floor in an office lined with filing cabinets and volumes on tax law. There were four desks, and a door that led to another office.

‘This is very cloak-and-dagger,’ said Shepherd, as Button closed the door.

‘I understand Sam Hargrove preferred to meet in pubs or at rugby matches,’ said Button. ‘Hardly my style.’

‘There’s always the Ritz,’ said Shepherd.

‘I can’t start pulling out investigation files in full view of the ladies-who-lunch. We have a number of offices like this so I plan to make full use of them.’

She took him through to the interior office, which contained a big oak desk and a high-backed executive chair, with two smaller ones facing it. A large whiteboard bore several dozen photographs, head and shoulders shots.

Button sat down in the big chair and motioned him to a seat. ‘Congratulations on the money run. I gather Europol are happy with the way things went.’

‘They’re not busting the Albanian guy who’s running the show,’ said Shepherd, ‘but, yeah, it went well.’

‘We’re keen to follow up the Passport Agency angle,’ said Button. ‘We’re not going to pull the Uddin brothers in until we’ve nailed their contact.’

‘Okay,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m going in to their office today at five to get my money.’

‘I’d like you to wear a wire. You’ve established enough trust with them, haven’t you?’

‘They’ve not given me a second glance at the last couple of meetings.’

‘She slid an envelope across the desk. ‘Give them these details, and we’ll be watching to see who enters them into the system.’

Shepherd took the envelope. ‘What happens to the money I get?’

‘You keep it,’ said Button, and grinned at the surprise on his face. ‘Joke,’ she said. ‘Take it home with you and I’ll arrange to have it collected.’

‘So that’s it?’ he said. ‘I’m now employed by SOCA?’

‘Welcome aboard,’ she said.

‘I thought there’d be more to it. Paperwork and stuff.’

‘That’ll be on its way. Your next pay cheque will be from the Met, but after that you’ll be on SOCA’s payroll.’ She smiled. ‘With a pretty hefty increase.’

‘Thanks for that,’ he said.

‘Someone from Human Resources will talk to you about pensions, holidays and all that stuff. Any prob lems, let me know, but I’m sure there won’t be.’

‘Logistics? Vehicles and equipment?’

‘I’ll introduce you to our people as and when we need them. But you know Amar Singh from NCIS?’

‘He’s been working on the currency case.’

‘He’s on our tech team.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘I’ll get him to call you later to arrange the wire.’

‘And what about the other undercover operatives?’

‘The same applies. As and when you work with other team members, you’ll be introduced. But there’ll be no office parties or group hugs. There might be times when you come up against other members of the team without knowing it.’

‘That could be dangerous.’

‘On the contrary, it could be a life-saver. The fewer people who know what you do, the fewer people there are who can betray you.’

‘What about Jimmy Sharpe?’

Button nodded. ‘He’s in. First-class operator. You can use him today as back-up.’

‘Paul Joyce?’

‘Decided he’d prefer to remain with the Met. I wanted him on board – it was his call.’

Shepherd wanted to run a number of other names by her, but there would be time for that later. ‘What about cases? Do you have some lined up?’

Button smiled thinly. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘My bosses have given me a list of targets. High-profile villains they regard as priorities. But one step at a time, Spider. We’re hitting the ground running but we’re not rushing into anything. The Uddin brothers and their passports are your priority.’

‘It’s a small deal, financially. Ten grand a passport.’

‘But a huge deal politically,’ said Button. She stood up and went to the whiteboard. ‘Look at this.’

Shepherd joined her and stared at the photographs. There were forty in all; most were in colour but a handful were black and white. All but two were men. A few weren’t even photographs but artists’ impressions.

‘Let me tell you a story,’ said Button. ‘It goes back to 1992 when the government of Bosnia and Herzegovina held a referendum on independence. The result was a call for independence and separation from Serbia, and the result was civil war, with Bosnian Serbs murdering thousands of Bosnian Muslims. Ethnic-cleansing on a massive scale, just a few hours’ flight from London. Muslim fighters from all over the world, America, Russia and Europe, piled into the former Yugoslavia to help. Now jump ahead a few years. The UN peacekeepers are in, the civil war is over. Money is pouring into Bosnia to pay for reconstruction. Millions of dollars. A big chunk comes from Saudi Arabia. Muslims helping Muslims. Nothing wrong with that. King Fahd puts in $100 million from his own pocket. The Saudi government pours in $450 million, restores water supplies, rebuilds schools and mosques, and takes care of seven thousand orphans. A whole raft of Saudi-funded aid agencies and charities moves in. And that’s where the trouble starts. Move ahead to 2001. The Americans invade Afghanistan a few weeks after the attacks on the World Trade Center. In 2003, they invade Iraq. Elements of the Muslim world see America as the enemy and want revenge. The jihad begins in earnest. Muslim terrorists carry out atrocities around the world. Terror has a new face – Arab men with beards and baggy trousers. The world goes on high alert. Every Arab who gets on to a plane is watched. Every Arab family is regarded with suspicion. Arabs and Asians get stopped more often by the police. Their passports are looked at more closely. It gets harder and harder for Arabs to travel, to apply for visas, to book into hotels, to hire cars. And that’s when we come back to Bosnia.’

She walked over to a window and looked down at the street below.

‘London is a target. As are most European cities. Our landmarks, our stations, our football stadiums. Al-Qaeda wants to kill, maim and destroy our way of life. And for that they need troops. Warriors prepared to die for the cause.’