Andrew Grant - Even

I crossed my fingers, came out of the hotel, and saw that I needn’t have worried. A long-wheelbase XJ limousine with diplomatic plates was sitting at the side of the road, engine running, waiting for me. It was a little ostentatious with its dark green livery and black privacy glass, but at least it would be comfortable. And I got another surprise when I opened the door. A nice one. Tanya was inside.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Everything worked out in the end. You missed Varley’s reunion with Lesley, though. It was a treat. Very emotional.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about the restaurant. Having to break our date.”

“I know. That was a shame. But if you had to work, you had to work. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It catches up with all of us, eventually.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t really working. I just exaggerated a little, when I sent you the text.”

“So what were you doing? It must have been good, to outgun me and a kung pau chicken.”

“Talking to my brother. And a few other people.”

“About what?”

“My friend. Simon. The guy in the photo. Who they found dead, by the railway.”

“The guy you thought was Simon.”

“No. I know it was Simon. I’m sure of it now.”

“How?”

“Because of what Agent Sproule said. The fat guy, at the debrief. About Lesley planting fake IDs on those corpses.”

“She was planting U.S. IDs so she could rip off their Social Security money. The railway guy had Ukrainian papers. How would that work?”

“Not the scam part. The way she used fake IDs to change people’s identities. To throw the authorities off the scent.”

“How do you know the Ukrainian papers were fake?”

“I don’t. Maybe they weren’t. That doesn’t matter. The point is, that was really Simon’s body they found, but the FBI doesn’t believe it.”

“Tanya…”

“Just listen. I spoke to my brother. He’s back in Iraq. Simon went with him. And another Brit, called James Mansell. They were working together. Then Simon and James were moved to another team, guarding a hospital.”

“Why?”

“Emergency replacements. The hospital team was originally all Americans, but a couple of them got killed.”

“The hospital was hit?”

“No. It happened on a day off. They strayed out of bounds, got caught up by a mob-quite gruesome apparently. But that’s not the point. Simon and James took their places. They worked at the hospital for maybe two days, then the whole team was pulled out. Called back to the U.S.”

“For what reason?”

“Training, they were told at first. But when they got back to New York, where the firm’s based, they were all fired. The whole team.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t say. Their boss just gave them three months’ money and told them to vacate the building.”

“Seems a bit odd.”

“Doesn’t it just.”

“So what did Simon and James do about it?”

“Simon said they were going up to Canada. With the other squaddies. They were pissed off, but had plenty of money so they didn’t need to find more work yet.”

“Canada?”

“Yeah. A lot of vets end up there, apparently. At least for a while. Canadians seem much more sympathetic. They have support groups, retraining programs, legal help for deserters, that sort of thing.”

“Maybe they’re still up there, getting counseling.”

“No. I spoke to my brother and everyone else I could get hold of. Simon and James were in regular contact with quite a few people. But guess when that stopped?”

“When?”

“The day before the FBI found the alleged Ukrainian. Not a single word from either of them since then.”

“That’s suspicious, Tanya, but not conclusive.”

“And something else. Do you know which U.N. country was controlling the sector Simon was working in?”

“Let me guess. Ukraine?”

“Got it.”

“That’s an interesting coincidence, but it still doesn’t prove anything.”

“Right. So, will you help me?”

“To do what?”

“Prove it’s Simon. Get justice for my friend.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Go up there. Get hard evidence that it’s him.”

I paused for a moment. A trip upstate with Tanya could have possibilities. There was plenty of unfinished business between us, after all. Part of me wanted to say yes. But realistically I knew her idea would never fly. Her friend was history, and anyway, I was needed elsewhere. There would be real work waiting for me. More than enough of it. There always was.

“I can’t, Tanya. I’m on my way home. London is expecting me.”

“I’ll take care of that. Your head wound will buy a few more days.”

“No, Tanya. I’ve got to get back. I can’t go traipsing around the country, chasing a ghost.”

“Why not? You went nuts over someone you thought was a tramp. I helped you, then. So why won’t you help my friend, now?”

“How can I help him? He’s dead. We can’t bring him back to life.”

“No. But if we can identify him, I can bring him home. Like Dog, remember? When he was killed in Morocco?”

“Dog was killed in the line of duty. The navy brought him home.”

“How naive are you, David? The navy didn’t bring him home. I did. They wanted to leave him in Africa, to save money. You were in the hospital. You didn’t hear about it. You couldn’t have done anything, anyway. So I came down and made them do it.”

“I thought you came to visit me.”

“That, too. But I knew Dog was your friend. I knew you wouldn’t want him left behind. I knew it was the right thing to do. So I stood up, David, whether you knew it or not. And now I’m asking you to stand up. I really need you to do that. Please don’t tell me you’re walking away.”

I was tempted. Very. And this news about Dog tipped the scales even further. But still, I knew I’d be doing it for the wrong reason. If I stayed it would really be to steal another couple of days with her. She didn’t need me on a job like this. If she was serious about resolving it she should be getting the specialists involved. Not someone who’d only be along for the ride.

“I’m not walking away, Tanya. But I’m the wrong person for this kind of work. I’m no use with crime scenes and forensics. The FBI are experts at that stuff. They’re the ones you should be talking to.”

“They won’t listen. I’ve tried.”

“So make them listen. Don’t just nag at them. Find something positive to engage them with.”

“Such as?”

“Use your brain. Think it through. You reckon the Ukraine IDs were planted?”

“Right.”

“So go back to Simon’s body. Get someone to check his dental work. Vaccination scars. Surgical scars, if he has any. All that stuff is done differently in the U.K. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“I don’t know. It sounds a bit tenuous.”

“OK then, how about this-how did Simon and this other guy get back to the States?”

“They flew.”

“On a commercial flight, or does this firm have their own planes?”

“They do have planes, but Simon said they took a regular flight because of the short notice.”

“Good. Which airport did they use?”

“JFK, I think.”

“Excellent. The INS fingerprints every foreign national who arrives there. The FBI can get access. Ask them to compare the prints from the railway victim with the passengers on Simon’s plane.”

“Much better. That would put it beyond doubt. Excellent, David. Thanks.”

“No problem. Just let me know how it works out. I’m in your corner. And let me know if the feds give you any grief. I’ll make some calls. See if Weston needs any more help closing his computer.”