Federal Agent Adam Forster scanned the wall of pigeonholes at the London headquarters of the National Crime Squad, found his name and pulled out his mail. Adam shuffled the envelopes, tearing open the one containing his orders for the rest of the week. He read the slip of paper.
Meet Agents Mitchell Parker and Samantha Moore from the U.S.A Washington D.C. Trans-national Crime Unit at 0800 hours at room 244, the Four Season Hotel, Westferry Circus, Canary Wharf.
Adam stuffed the paper and the rest of his mail into his suit pocket. He took the black band from around his wrist and tied his shoulder-length brown hair back. Raising the collar on his black overcoat, he pushed out into the street into the rain and headed towards the underground entrance.
So, what are these two Yanks doing in town? He wondered. Hope it’ll get the juices running, I could do with a challenge. Should just pack the medals away, buy a fruit and vegetable store and settle down with a nice girl, have a few kids, the usual thing. Nuh. Wouldn’t work. I’d have to have the best fruit and vegetable store, then a network of stores – soon I’d want a monopoly on the market. Who knows? I’d probably create a new line of vegetable, he thought.
And then, I’d be bored with it. There has to be more to life, but what?
Yep, he sighed, mid-life crisis. He cheered up again. Who knows what these two are doing in London, Canary Wharf of all places. Might be interesting.
Samantha watched Mitch as he slept beside her, leaning against the window – his long legs stretched across the exit row space in front of them, his arms folded across his chest. Mitch frowned and his dark eyelashes fluttered as she covered him with one of the airline-issued blankets.
What I’d give to be able to sleep on a plane, she thought enviously. Now cargo planes, where you can lay full length on the floor if room permits, that’s the only way to fly!
Mitch woke with a start. Samantha grabbed his hand.
“It’s OK, we’re still in flight,” she whispered.
He looked around; she watched his eyes come into focus on her. Samantha removed her hand.
“Right,” he rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Are we there yet?”
“No. Bad dream?”
“Sort of,” he sat up. “I dreamed I was on a plane going to London to break up a criminal game.”
“Ah, that’s actually not a dream,” Samantha teased him.
“Damn!” Mitch pushed off the blanket, reached for his water bottle and seeing the file on Adam Forster, grabbed it.
“Twistie?” Samantha offered him the packet, “they’re chicken, my favorite. Although, I don’t mind the cheese-flavored.”
“God, no. How can you eat that stuff at this time of the day?”
“What time of the day?” Samantha shrugged, putting one in her mouth. “We’re about to eat dinner but it’s really midnight isn’t it?”
“Fair point,” Mitch handed the file to Samantha. “He’s a bit of a hot shot our London assignee. American born, though looks like he’s lived in the U.K. most of his life. Check it out.”
Samantha opened the file and glanced over Adam’s record. She gave out a low whistle.
“Impressive,” she looked down the list of his credentials. “MI5 and MI6, served in Northern Ireland, commanded an armored squadron in Germany, completed a tour in Bosnia, deployed to Macedonia in 1999, a stint in Kosovo, counter espionage work for the British foreign intelligence service and further postings in Russia and China,” she flipped the page and continued. “Fluent in four languages, that’s handy, and originally a member of the British Royal Air Force. He’s a fly-boy like you,” she noted. “He’s jumped around a bit. Why do you think he joined the TCU after a career like that?”
“I’d say he’s keen on a few trips to the States each year, or …”
“Or?” Samantha looked up from the paperwork.
“He’s hankering for a life change. The TCU would have snapped him up; no relocation fees, he knows the ropes and has the contacts – that’s probably the biggest challenge for our agents based in the U.K.”
“Would you do a London posting?”
Mitch shrugged. “Maybe. Anyway, let’s hope he’s a team player and not a renegade.”
Mitch looked at his reflection in the mirror of the male restroom at Heathrow Airport. Need a shave, need to brush my teeth, need to sleep. He splashed water on his face, ran his hands through his hair and went back to meet Samantha at the luggage carousel.
“You look like death warmed up,” Samantha nudged him.
“After an eleven hour flight, bet I smell like it too.”
Samantha inhaled. “You’re not bad on the nose. I’ve smelled worse.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Mitch smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, as they waited for the luggage to appear on the carousel belt. Mitch turned his phone on.
“I’ll check on the other two and see how they’re going. Geez, got to get the brain working … let’s see – the time difference, if London’s five hours ahead of D.C. and eight hours ahead of Nevada, that would make it around eleven p.m. in Eureka.” Mitch dialed Nick.
“Daniel Reid has booked into two hotels; one in Vegas, and the one we’re staying at here in Eureka. John confirmed it earlier,” Nick informed Mitch over the phone. “My guess is he’s waiting for a flight to come in or he’d be here now.”
“I agree,” Mitch said. “He’s probably booked the Vegas room to hang out in during the day. When’s the next flight due from the U.K.?”
“There is one at five-thirty in the morning.”
“Any idea of how many people Daniel is waiting on?”
“He’s booked three rooms here, so I’d say he’s got two joining him. John’s working on identifying them from the U.K. flight manifest. There are forty passengers getting off in Vegas, and John can’t account for twelve of those yet.”
“OK,” Mitch said. “Got a plan?”
“Yep. First thing in the morning we’ll head to the Broad Arrow site.”
“Then?”
“We’ll case the joint, make sure we’re alone. Then we’re going to look at how we can close off the underground tunnels somehow to create an ambush situation. We’re going to be outnumbered by one, but Daniel will be pretty ineffectual. We need to control the situation.”
Mitch tensed.
“Nick, don’t underestimate Daniel. He’s not going to be making small talk. I think we should get you more back up.”
“Hold off until we work through it in the morning.”
“Alright, but get back to me ASAP. I think playing in the tunnels is dangerous, you could end up ambushing yourself.”
“Boss, it’ll be alright,” Nick assured him. “We’ll come up with something and let you know if we need more back up.”
“Make sure you do.”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
“I hear you.”
There was a silence on the line.
“Can you put Ellie on?”
“Sure.”
Mitch waited hearing Ellen move to the phone.
“Hi Mitch, what’s the protocol once we have them?” Ellen asked.
“John will interview them. We can only hold them for a short time unless we get something concrete. So we need them to reveal their hand to make it stick. Now listen Ellie,” he warned her, “keep your head, OK?”
“OK,” she replied. “What makes you think I wouldn’t?”
“Nothing, but don’t go …” he hesitated, “don’t go soft on me.”
“I’m not following.”
Mitch ground his teeth. “Don’t let Nick distract you.”
“Oh. It’s not an issue,” she snapped.
“Ellie, don’t get pissed. You know it can happen, so stay focused.”
“Yes, Mitch.”
Mitch hung up. Not winning any popularity contests this week.
Mitch threw his gear on the floor of his hotel room and with a glance to his watch, headed to the bathroom; thirty minutes until Adam Forster was due to arrive.
He had a quick shower and reached for his razor when he heard a knock at the door. He opened the door, wet and with a white bath towel around his waist.
“Uh, Mitchell Parker? I think you’re expecting me?”
Mitch smiled. “Adam Forster,” he sized up the tall, built man who looked impressive in a well-cut black-grey suit. Mitch offered his hand.
“Sorry, we just got here ten minutes ago.”
“That’s fine. No need to dress for the occasion – after all, it’s just me,” Adam said in his British accent. Mitch laughed standing aside to let him in.
“Bet you feel like shit,” Adam said.
“Feel and probably look like shit,” Mitch agreed. “Come in. I’ll …”
“Sure, get changed. Tea or coffee?” Adam took charge.
“Coffee, white, thanks.”
Adam walked in and headed straight to the counter, grabbing the kettle to fill it. He turned to watch Mitch go.
Wow, more battle scars than me. The ones on his back are impressive.
Adam opened and closed a few cupboards looking for mugs. He looked up hearing a knock on the shared internal door and stopped as a tall brunette walked straight in. She froze.
“Samantha?” he asked.
“Adam Forster!” she exclaimed. “Sorry, I thought I had the wrong room. What did you do with Mitch?”
“I’ve finished him off. It was easy! Elite agent? Ha!”
Samantha laughed. They shook hands.
“Please, call me Sam.”
“Sam it is. Tea or coffee?”
Mitch emerged dressed, his dark hair wet, his blue eyes observing Adam. He took the offered coffee.
“What are we in for?” Adam asked removing his jacket.
Mitch ran through the brief, rising and looking out at the silver Credit Suisse building where Lawrence Hackett worked. When he finished, he turned to face Adam and Samantha.
“That’s great,” Adam said sitting back and extending his arms over the back of the sofa.
Mitch smiled.
“I mean, that’s really brilliant,” Adam said. “It’s amazing he’s already had two seasons of the competition.”
Mitch nodded in agreement. He ran his hand over his eyes. Glancing at Samantha, he could see she was struggling to stay alert.
“This is what we need to do,” Mitch started. “Lawrence’s got six directors and a number of board executives. I’m assuming those six directors are the Mastermind board. We need to find out how many are here in London now. The ones that aren’t here, we can assume are in a designated country, playing the game. We need to find out which country, track them, track the crime they are waiting on and see if we can assist the local authorities to thwart it before it happens. We need one or all of them to testify.”
Adam let out a low whistle. “Tough one,” he sighed. “At least you know the U.S. is out of the running.”
“Assuming there was only one Mastermind entry there,” Mitch agreed. “We need to bug Lawrence’s offices, I want to record every gathering. I want to know what’s going on and I want proof.”
“That’s easier,” Adam took a notepad from his jacket pocket and scribbled some notes.
“I want access to the files, to the hard drives, to his bank details. In fact, I’d love to get an insider into his world,” Mitch frowned, rising again and pacing around the room, “time’s going to be against us there.”
Mitch looked at Samantha, then back to Adam.
“Has Lawrence got a girlfriend?”
“Many,” Adam confirmed. “Wealth and power – an age-old aphrodisiac.”
“I’m sure he could use one more,” Mitch said.
“Ah, I’ve been set up,” Samantha clicked to his plan.
“Perfect match,” Mitch smiled. “So, how’s this work, Adam … with you on board I mean?”
“You get full access to me as your TCU rep, and through the TCU’s partnership with the U.K. National Crime Squad, I can get you access to any intelligence we need and shortcut the system, which most outside agencies can’t do. I’ve got to keep the NCS hierarchy in the loop as we go along, otherwise, everything’s sweet.”
Mitch nodded. “Great, because I need you to pull strings.”