Lawrence Hackett passed each of his directors a copy of the blackmail letter, watching them as they read it.
“Andrew,” Lawrence turned to his Chief of Staff, “organize the money.”
“Done,” Andrew replied.
“Gentlemen, we need a plan. I’m happy to lose a million pounds, but frankly, where’s the fun in just handing it over?”
“Do we trust they will destroy the file copy?” Alan said.
“Unlikely. I wouldn’t, would you?” Lawrence asked.
“So, you’re thinking of giving them a bit of scare?” Richard asked.
Lawrence strolled around the oval table.
“The problem is,” he began, “that we don’t know what we’re up against. Is it a couple of crooks with a gun in their pocket, or a network that will have the train surrounded? Or is it just a pimply-faced kid fresh out of college who’s hacked into something he shouldn’t have? I’m open to suggestions on a course of action.”
“I say we go in ready for action,” Brian Davies said.
“Ah, all fired up after your success in Monaco, hey Brian?” Lawrence smiled.
Brian returned his grin. “Maybe. I think we should reverse the situation – bring him or them here for a little blackmail of our own.”
“I like that thinking.”
“Except,” Richard Sinclair stepped in, “if they are sitting online ready to send the file off to the police or MI6, as they’ve threatened to do if the collector doesn’t return, we’re screwed.”
Lawrence nodded his head in agreement.
“Let’s track them,” Rishi Patel suggested. “Put a few of our people on board and follow the collector home. Then we can be sure we get the cash back, get the file back and get rid of the collector.”
There was a general murmur of consent around the table. Lawrence took his chair at the head of the table.
“I think Rishi’s plan is the soundest. However, I’m keen for a little action. I say we play ball and have a little fun. Let me think on it and we’ll meet again in the morning.”
He turned to Andrew.
“Andrew, before you go, get me the phone number for our security company.”
In the apartment, the three men listened as the meeting dispersed. Mitch fidgeted, his foot tapping.
“Mitch, chill,” Nick told him. “You’ve given it to Sam on a platter, it should be easy now.”
“I hope so. Thanks for your help, Nick, Adam. Couldn’t have cracked it without you both, especially the twin link.”
Adam shrugged modestly. “Let’s hope that’s it.”
Nick rose. “I’d say that’s it until tomorrow in Lawrence’s office anyway.”
“The problem with this guy is that he’s bored stupid, literally,” Adam shook his head. “Why would you risk everything you’ve got on this?”
“Maybe everything he’s got doesn’t interest him anymore. Haven’t we got enough from that recording to put him away?” Nick turned to Mitch.
“No,” Mitch said. “Lawrence’s got a huge bank account … he’ll pay for a defense. I want him for this year’s Mastermind and the previous ones over the past years – and I want to get him for Anthony Jenkins’ death. I want him to make the payout to get the information back; I want the recordings, Daniel’s testimony and anything we can get from the directors. I don’t want to fall short with this, there’s too much at stake.”
“It would be nice to know what we’re going to be up against when we hand over that file though,” Nick said.
“Hmm,” Adam agreed, “or what his definition of fun is.”
Mitch’s phone rang. He grabbed it. “Sam?”
Mitch hung up after Samantha’s brief and sank back on the sofa. He closed his eyes. Nick grasped his shoulder.
“One more down, Mitch, one to go.”
Mitch opened his eyes and smiled.
“It’s six-thirty, let’s go eat,” Adam suggested.
There was a knock at the apartment door and all three men looked up, surprised.
Nick motioned for the other two to get out of sight. He opened the door; Ellen stood there with her duffel bag over her shoulder.
“Hey Ellie!” he grinned and pulled her into the room. He gave her a quick hug and grabbed her bag from her.
Mitch appeared back in the room to greet her. “Ellie, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Adam introduced himself. They shook hands.
“This is cosy,” she smiled. Mitch followed her gaze, traveling over the running shoes, socks, newspapers and pizza boxes.
“Ah, yeah, tried to get the boys to clean up but they’re just slobs,” Mitch sighed.
Nick punched his arm.
“You look strained, Mitch,” she said, studying his face. “So, how is everything?”
“Well, we’re all sick of each other,” Nick teased. “Mitch is driving us nuts … can’t sit still, can’t sleep, doesn’t feed us.”
“All true,” Adam agreed.
Mitch rolled his eyes.
“Poor Mitch. I’ll give you a massage later,” Ellen offered.
Mitch grinned at Nick. “That backfired didn’t it?”
Ellen looked over at Adam.
“And poor Adam,” she took in the newcomer, “stuck with you two for the week.”
“Oh, that’s nice, isn’t it?” Nick turned to Mitch.
“Ellen’s right though,” Adam got into the swing of it, “but that’s why I’m paid the big bucks.”
A sound came over the speakers and they all froze. Ellen looked around to see where the audio was coming from. Lawrence had re-entered his office. They listened to him dialing.
“Chris, it’s Lawrence Hackett here,” he said, followed by a few seconds silence. “Ah, good, I was hoping Andrew called you; we’ve got a high-security priority. Good. Well, we’ll see you first thing tomorrow. Goodnight.”
They heard the click of the phone followed by Lawrence’s footsteps and the sound of the door closing.
“That’s his security guy and that’s a wrap,” Nick said.
“Did you eat on the plane?” Mitch asked Ellen.
“No, just drank.”
“A girl after my own heart,” Adam said. Mitch gave him a quick look, their eyes connected.
Don’t even think about bedding another one of my agents, Adam!
“Let’s get out of here and grab a bite,” Adam looked away.
Mitch reached for his coat and followed his team to the lift.
“If only my mother could see me now,” Ellen teased as they let her enter the lift first. “I must be out with three of the best looking guys in the U.K.”
“Come on, I’ve seen better heads on beers than on these two,” Mitch nodded at Nick and Adam.
Mitch’s phone rang.
“Saved by the phone,” Nick told him.
“Hi, Sam, how is it going?” Mitch asked while the other three continued to talk. His watch read nearly seven – he calculated it was two in the afternoon in D.C.
“All done, cleared and squared away,” she answered. “Thanks Mitch for the input, and thank the guys for me; it went like clockwork. Listen, I can get a flight that leaves at seven tonight and gets into London tomorrow morning at nine. Is that OK?”
Mitch hesitated.
“Mitch, don’t make me stay at home … please.”
Mitch remained silent, thinking.
“I want to be there and you need all the resources you can get,” she pleaded.
Mitch exited the lift and fell behind his team.
“Sam, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
She’s way out of sync, he thought. The incident with J.J. in Broad Arrow, sleeping with Adam, the drama today at the Library of Congress. She’ll get herself killed trying to prove herself to me or matching Adam move for move. I don’t want that on my conscience when I could have prevented it.
“Mitch?”
“I need to think this through. I’ll call you back.” Mitch hung up. Picking up the pace, he fell back into stride with his team. He inhaled; the air was fresh after the rain.
Mitch wasn’t listening to the conversation around him. What do I do about Sam? If anything happens to her on this next job, and it was my doing putting her in there … yet, it’s important to her; this is what she lives for, he thought.
Dropping behind, he called her back.
“Sam, book the flight. Call John and get him to authorize it.”
“Thank you, Mitch, I promise to …”
“Listen, Sam,” he interrupted her and dropped his voice. “I’m not going to beat around the bush – you’re way out of step at the moment.”
She waited to see if he would elaborate, he didn’t.
“I’m sorry about today.”
“No, it’s not just today, think about it. We’ll talk tomorrow when you get here. I need the old Samantha back before we go in tomorrow night. OK?”
“OK,” Samantha agreed.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.
Mitch caught up with his team.
The apartment only had three rooms; Mitch surrendered his bedroom to Ellen and took the large, cushioned sofa since—as he admitted—he wasn’t sleeping much anyway.
That night was no exception; he drifted in and out of sleep, the job going through his head.
How hard can it be to capture a white-collar guy?
How much backup will he bring? What’s the calibre of the backup? Are we talking directors or ex-soldiers?
How many passengers in that carriage will actually be Lawrence’s people?
Where do I put Sam so that she doesn’t get herself killed?
At two in the morning he gave up. Rising, he threw on his black track pants, grabbed his jacket and a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and went out onto the balcony. He shivered in the cold, lowering himself into one of the steel chairs. Mitch checked out the entrance to the Canary Wharf Underground station. He saw the silhouette of a man.
Good, our security guy’s standing on the other side of that grill.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a guy sprinting at full pace towards the square.
Another person who can’t sleep; fit guy, good stride, Mitch thought as he watched the runner cross the street and slow down as though he had crossed an imaginary finishing line. The runner stopped, doubled over and drew in air in gulps.
I need a run like that, he rubbed his ribs. Nothing better than a good work out, sweat pouring off you, head and body tuned when you’re finished.
The sprinter stood up and raised his T-shirt up to wipe the sweat of his face. Mitch leaned forward to look again. Nick! When did he go out? I must have drifted off to sleep at some time.
Mitch sat back watching him, thinking about what might be going on in Nick’s headspace … is he nervous about tomorrow? I guess he could be; Nick’s foremost a pilot; he hasn’t been exposed to unpredictable hand-to-hand combat.
He watched Nick drop onto a bench and put his head in his hands. Mitch looked away, feeling like he was intruding, then looked back; he couldn’t take his eyes off him.
Maybe he’s thinking about more than work … maybe he’s thinking about his fiancée, or her sister, Maria.
Nick sat back and extended his legs in front of him. A light rain began to fall and he turned his face skywards. Mitch saw him pull out a phone, dial a number and begin to speak. Nick hung up and dialed another number. The conversation was much quicker this time.
Who are you calling at this hour of the morning and on which side of the world, Nick?
This is not good.
Nick felt better now, after the run. He looked around and sighed.
I hate the early hours of the morning, he thought. What am I doing? The haunting track in his mind began to start again … the regular thought process.
So, I’ve got a new job … does it make it all worthwhile?
When you’re the one who is supposed to die; when you’re driving and you’re responsible for the accident … when you’re left behind … how do you make a good enough go of the rest of your life to justify that you’re the one alive?
Is it all worthwhile if you save a team mate or wear the good-guy cape?
Is it about finding someone else and being more attentive to them, giving everything like there is no tomorrow?
Can there be someone else?
Tears stung his eyelids and he opened his eyes to let them wash down his face with the rain.
Didn’t think I had any left to cry.
Ana, Ana, Ana. Six months since …
There are so many losers in prison, so many people who make nothing of their life; people shooting up with some habit or another – and they get to live on, while Ana …
A movement caught his eye.
Mitch stood up against the rails moving out of the rain and catching Nick’s attention. He raised a hand in salute. Nick returned the salute. Even from a distance, Mitch could make out the hesitation in his movements, as though he was wondering how much Mitch had seen. He decided to say nothing. Mitch looked up as the sliding glass door behind him opened and Adam came out onto the balcony.
“Is anyone except Ellen asleep tonight?” Adam asked.
“Apparently not,” Mitch indicated Nick.
“Let’s run, you can pace yourself if your body is giving you grief,” Adam said. “You need to unwind a bit.”
0830, Thursday, The Apartment, London
“We’re on,” Ellen called out to Mitch who was making coffee in the kitchenette. He raced over to join her on the sofa, giving his full attention to the broadcast from Lawrence’s office. They could hear the directors taking their seats and the shuffle for chairs by the extra security team.
Lawrence addressed the room. “Gentlemen, tonight …”
And then, the audio became static.
“What’s happening?” Mitch turned to Ellen.
The static was so loud that nothing could be heard above it. Ellen jumped up to check the equipment.
“They’re using a scrambler.”
Mitch got to his feet. “The security team must have brought in something to scramble anyone who is bugging or …” he looked to the computer, “or hacking them?”
Ellen raced to the computer to check if they still had access to Lawrence’s files – it was blocked as well. Mitch stood hands on his hips, looking out at Lawrence’s building.
“This is not good. We’ve no idea what he’s planning to do tonight … damn, damn, damn!” He rubbed his fingers over his temple.
1045, Thursday, The Apartment, London
Mitch couldn’t breathe. Too many people; not enough air.
He opened the glass sliding door letting in a rush of cold air. He looked around at his team gathered in the apartment; Nick had returned from surveillance at Lawrence’s building, Adam was checking weapons, Ellen was listening to the audio and Samantha arrived, Mitch noted, with a tentative glance his way.
“Take my room,” Nick offered, grabbing her bag, “I’ll camp out here with the boss.”
“Just share my bed,” Adam said.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Come on, who are we kidding? We’re all adults. Besides, it’s only for a few nights and we need the space,” he shrugged. Nick handed Samantha’s bag to Adam. Mitch could feel everyone watching for his reaction.
“Whatever,” he mumbled. “Nick, who came in and out of Lawrence’s building this morning?”
Nick gave his report. Mitch walked back and forth as he listened.
“If we can’t hear what’s going on in Lawrence’s area, can we get access to Lawrence’s security company’s systems to see what they’re planning for tonight?” he asked turning to Samantha.
“I can give it a go,” Samantha rose and headed to the computer.
“We could track their security guy who came to the meeting this morning, do surveillance on him for the day.”
“Would you recognize him?” Mitch asked.
“Sure. Adam, let’s go. Can we take your car?” Nick said, already halfway to the door.
Adam reached for his keys. “Right behind you.”
The two men walked out. Mitch opened his mouth to say something, but Nick beat him to it.
“They’re called SafeGuard Security – and yeah, we’ll stay in touch,” he said with a wave at the door.
Mitch nodded. “Ellie …” he noticed her shiver and turning, closed the sliding door behind him. “Call our security guards at the train station. See if anything suspicious has been happening and tell them to check in with you every hour from now on.”
“Onto it,” Ellen said.
“Sam, let’s talk,” Mitch grabbed his coat and held the door open.
Samantha rose, grabbed her coat and passed by him.
“Want me to bring you back a coffee?” he asked Ellen.
“Yes, please. A caramel mocha with cream.”
Mitch shook his head. “You should be twice the size.”
Adam drove his silver Porsche Boxster through London Docklands, stopping several car spaces from the main entrance of SafeGuard Security. It was a white, concrete, inconspicuous office, in-between a dry-cleaning store and Chinese takeaway in Millwall.
“Handy for those late shifts,” Adam said, noticing the restaurant.
“That’s him!” Nick exclaimed. “The guy in the white shirt was the one at Lawrence’s meeting this morning. Unbelievable, thought we’d be waiting here for hours.”
“Bugger, me too. We just got a good park.” Adam started the car, waiting for the two security men to get into the white van so they could follow.
Mitch carried the coffees to an outside table at the sidewalk café on ground level of their building.
“Remind me to get Ellie’s coffee before we head back,” he pushed the sugar towards Samantha.
“OK.”
He heard the nervousness in Samantha’s voice.
“Listen Sam, this is not my forte, but it is part of the job description …”
Samantha nodded.
“Putting it bluntly, you’re out of control; you’re unpredictable and you’re pissing me off. I can’t count on you. I’m scared to put you in there tonight and I don’t want to spend the next ten years kicking myself for not listening to my instincts.”
He looked away. Keep a cool head.
They sat in silence. Mitch continued. “You need to think before acting. Think about the consequences … you knew what J.J. was doing wasn’t the right way to go, regardless of what you thought my reaction would be. You know the dangers of bedding a team-mate on a job – after is fine, but on the job! You knew we were working on the Library of Congress case with you and talking with John trying to get anything we could from Daniel right up to the last minute. You couldn’t afford not to take my calls. Finally, if I call you, I damned well want to speak to you.” Mitch reeled his anger in. “Guess that’s it; not quite how I planned to say it.”
Samantha burst into tears.
Mitch stared at her, not sure what to do.
Shit, well done! He reached into his jacket for a handkerchief.
“Thanks,” Samantha took it and wiped her face.
“It’s John’s,” Mitch shrugged. “He didn’t want bleeding in his car. I keep forgetting to give it back.”
I’m raving.
“Sam,” he reached for her hand.
“Don’t do that! Don’t sympathize with me; it will make me cry more and I’m already going to regret this later,” she sniffed.
Mitch smiled. Samantha caught his expression and laughed.
“Mitch, I hear you loud and clear. I promise to hone my instincts and I guarantee you I will follow orders, especially tonight.”
“OK,” he looked down at his coffee.
“You can count on me,” Samantha added.
Mitch nodded. “Drink your coffee. In the grand scheme of things, there is no one else I’d rather have annoying the hell out of me.”
Samantha started to cry again.
Mitch rolled his eyes. No-win situation.
“This will test you.” Nick grinned, watching Adam trying to stay well below the speed limit to remain behind the security guys in the white van.
“Yeah, this car will never get driven at the speed it’s meant to be,” Adam complained. “What do you drive?”
“A bike.”
“What sort?”
“Ducati.”
“Yeah?” Adam’s interest was aroused. “A Multistrada?”
“Yep, 620.”
“Nice.” He turned right and followed the driver down Westferry Road and right into Heron Quay.
“I bet they’re going down to the Canary Wharf Underground,” Nick watched the white van in front. A few minutes later, the van pulled into Nash Court, right near the entrance to the Underground. Nick dialed Mitch.
“Two of Lawrence’s security guys are going down into the Underground at Canary Wharf,” Nick reported in. “Where are you? Sounds noisy.”
“Having a coffee with Sam.”
“Geez, nice for some!” He heard Mitch laugh. “Ah, you’re giving the pull-your-head-in talk. How’s that going?”
“Yeah, real well, one of my strengths. Got to go, keep following them,” Mitch said.
“Will do,” Nick said.
“I’ll let our security guys in the Underground know to look out for them too. What are they wearing?” Mitch asked.
“Um, first one’s in black pants, white shirt …” he looked to Adam.
“Blue sandshoes, red baseball cap with an SG printed on the front in black; silver pen in his shirt pocket. He’s got the word Harley written on his pocket; don’t know if it’s his name or his mode of transport. Second guy’s Italian, wearing black jeans, plain black T-shirt, black runners, army-issued green cap and cigarettes in the back pocket of his jeans.”
“Did you hear that from smart ass?” Nick smirked.
“Got it,” Mitch chuckled. “Nick, turn your microphone on and keep me posted, anything they do now might help us be better prepared later. And don’t forget you’ve got it on,” he warned. “Keep the convo on the record; Ellie’s listening upstairs.”
“Got it,” Nick pressed the button on his watch, allowing their commentary to be broadcast.
Mitch grabbed a caramel mocha for Ellen before returning to the apartment. Handing it to her, he briefed her on the two security guards.
“Ellie, take your coffee, head down into the Underground and pretend to be a tourist. Pick up an Underground map, whatever; just watch Lawrence’s two guys. Sam, get back to the computer and see if you can hack into SafeGuard Security.”
“Done.”
Mitch removed his wristwatch and via a small cable, connected the speakers. Nick’s wristwatch microphone came through loud and clear. He could hear Nick and Adam breathing as they ran down the stairs at the Canary Wharf Underground entrance.
“I’ll take left,” Nick told Adam as they peeled off in opposite directions.
Nick played the commuter, glancing up at the electronic notice board, checking his watch.
“They’re walking the length of the platform,” Nick muttered for Mitch’s sake. “Harley’s looking up. He’s checking out the ceiling area. Our officers are watching them. Hang on, Harley’s sending the Italian over to my side of the platform.”
“OK, lost sight of them both,” Nick reported as a train rushed into the station. He rose and walked towards the electronic sign, pretending to read it while he peered through the windows of the train looking for a glimpse of the security guys. The train moved out of the station.
“Ah, Italian guy’s arrived on my side, he’s doing the full walk of the platform,” Nick muttered. “He’s looking up and down on the track as well … Geez, he’s blatant. Here we go, our security guy’s coming up to him.”
Nick listened in.
“He’s asking him if everything’s alright … guy’s saying he lost his keys. Nice one – accounts for why he’s looking down, but not up.”
Nick looked over at the other platform.
“Adam and Harley are gone! They’ve taken a ride.”
Mitch’s phone rang and Adam’s number flashed across the screen. Mitch answered it, his voice cutting out Nick’s commentary.
“Mitch,” Adam whispered, “we’re taking a ride, can you let Nick know? I’ll see where this guy gets off.”
“Thanks,” Mitch hung up and dialed Nick’s number.
“Nick, it’s Mitch … Adam’s called in. He’s tagging Harley, you stay with the Italian.”
“Will do.”
“I should have got you to wear an earpiece so we could communicate two-way. No chance you’ve got the car keys if the Italian guy moves?”
“No, damn it! I’d love to drive that Porsche.”
“Can you hot-wire it if you need to?”
“Yeah! I can try.”
“Do that. I don’t want to lose the Italian. Besides, he’ll probably pick up Harley.”
“OK. Ellie’s just come onto the platform,” Nick reported. “Hang on … the Italian’s on the move … I’m onto him.”
“Good, keep me posted. Talk it through your mic.” Mitch hung up.
Fifteen minutes later, Ellen re-entered the apartment.
“The Italian’s gone. He did basic surveillance of the track and above. Nick’s following him,” she reported.
Mitch nodded reaching for his phone; a call was coming through from Adam.
“Adam?”
“We’re getting off at Waterloo,” he whispered and hung up.
“Sorry, Ellie,” Mitch said. “Anything else?”
“Just one thing. He was counting as he walked from the platform to the stairs.”
Mitch thought for a moment. “Nice work. I imagine he’s working out how long it will take Lawrence to get out of the station after the handover. That’s interesting.”
“OK, I’m in their site,” Samantha said. “The only thing that’s been created since this morning is a timesheet for tonight. I’ll print it.”
“Excellent, that should tell us how many staff are on,” Mitch said, feeling the adrenalin in his body beginning to surge. “Any chance there is a file with pics of their staff on the system? Be nice to recognize them.”
Nick’s voice cut in again over the speakers.
“The Italian’s pulling up outside Waterloo Station, he’s staying in the van. Must be picking up Harley. I’ll let Adam know I’m here.”
Mitch heard Nick dial Adam’s phone. The team in the apartment listened in on their conversation.
“Hey, Adam, it’s Nick. Don’t catch a train back, I’m outside Waterloo.”
“OK … in my car?”
“As luck would have it, yeah! Geez it’s beautiful to drive. Hurry, they’re pulling out.”
“Shit’s going to hit the fan over that car-napping!” Ellen smiled.
“Yeah, looking forward to it.” Mitch gave her a grin.
Adam bolted up the station stairs, sighting Nick and jumping into the passenger seat of his Porsche.
“Bloody hell,” Adam swore. “I paid forty-five thousand pounds for a car with state-of-the-art security and you hot wire it that easily. It’s absolute bollocks!”
“What can I say,” Nick shrugged, “it’s one of my many skills.”
Adam looked away disgusted, swearing to himself.
“So?” Nick asked.
“Same thing down there, a bit of station surveillance up and down the track.” Adam sulked. He spoke in the direction of Nick’s watch microphone. “Mitch, we can probably assume that’s where the security team will start from.”
Nick followed behind the van at a safe distance, pulling over as it stopped outside the concrete building of SafeGuard Security.
“How long did it take you?”
“What?” Nick asked.
“To hot-wire it.”
Nick smiled. “A while, it was pretty tough.”
The white van reversed and parked.
“They’re back at the office,” Nick announced for Mitch’s benefit.
Nick’s phone rang. “Yeah, Mitch?” he answered.
“Good job, guys. Glad we found where they’re starting from. Come back, let’s have a think tank,” Mitch said.
Nick paused. “Uh, Mitch, we’re not coming back.”
“What? Why?”
Adam broke in. “Nick and I had a meeting and decided we’re not coming back unless you provide food.”
“Yeah, we’re action guys, we need to eat!” Nick added.
Mitch laughed. “Hang on.” His voice came through a few seconds later. “Ellie and Sam are going down to get something healthy.”
“Alright, we’re on our way, but this better not be a trick.”
1430 Thursday, The Apartment, London
“So what do you do after this gig?” Nick asked Adam as he guided the Porsche back into the parking lot at the apartment.
Adam shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess. Might do something life changing; new job, new life – who knows.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Nick parked the car.
“Do you? But you’re a tight team.”
“I’m the new kid on the block,” Nick explained, “the other three have been working together for a long time.”
“I thought you and Mitch went way back.”
“We do. We’ve known each other since school, but this is the first job we’ve worked together since the air force over a decade ago.”
Mitch heard Ellen and Samantha return with lunch.
He sighed. I enjoyed that short-lived solitude. He came off the balcony and grabbed his phone to update John.
“Sam, pull the plug on that will you?” he said, noticing Adam and Nick’s conversation continued to be broadcast over the speakers.
He heard Adam’s English accent: “It does get a bit rough some times. Mitch must have seen some action though; those scars on his back are nice trophies.”
“Yeah, he’s been busy,” Nick answered discretely.
Mitch turned to pull the plug as Samantha disconnected it. He dialed Nick’s number, feeling Samantha and Ellen looking at him.
Nick glanced down at his ringing phone as he got out of the car. It was Mitch’s number. He looked over at Adam and pointing to the microphone in his watch, mouthed the word “shit.”
“Turning it off, Mitch,” he answered knowing what Mitch was going to say.
1630, Thursday, The Apartment, London
“OK,” Mitch started after a mouthful of Coke. “We’ve got two security guys dressed as Underground rail staff stationed at each entrance to Canary Wharf station. That shouldn’t raise any suspicion; the ticket collectors are usually around that area anyway. As soon as Lawrence is identified in the station, these two officers will seal the entrances; people can exit but not enter. They’ll stay in place until the job is finished.”
“Check,” Adam said marking off their locations on an Underground map layout.
“Adam, when you see Lawrence on the platform, you or Ellie are to double-check these guys have sealed the entrances.”
“Got it,” Adam agreed.
“What if Lawrence is on the train and gets off at Canary Wharf to meet you, or walks through to the last carriage and confronts you there?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, good point,” Mitch said. “If that’s the case, Nick, you will alert Adam through your headset and Adam or Ellie will call the officers at the entrance and tell them to seal it off. If he’s aboard, Nick, you and your two on-board officers will make the arrest, but not until he hands over the briefcase and takes the file out of my hands. It’s crucial you don’t do it before then.”
“Got it. Officers Skinner and Watson will be on board with us,” Nick said checking off his notes. “You met them at the run through. I’m hoping we can pick Lawrence’s guys early. It’s going to be a popular carriage.”
“Hopefully, Lawrence will be on the platform; it will give us more control. I’ll step off the train to meet him. Nick, you’ll stay aboard with Skinner and Watson, monitoring the situation. Adam, once we’re on the platform, your team will take over.”
“Got it,” Adam agreed, “Sam and Officer Kent will be in sniper positions. Ellie, myself and Officer Leath will be on the platform dressed as civilians.”
Mitch nodded. “I’ll hand Lawrence the folder and he’ll hand me the briefcase. Just to make it look real, I’ll open it and check the contents.”
“You won’t have time to count it before the train door closes, if we’re going to make this look as real as possible,” Adam added.
“I know. It’s just a cursory look to ensure there is cash in there before I hand over the file. It’s not credible otherwise. Before I step back into the same carriage, the driver will play the announcement ‘due to person under train, there will be a delay’. At this point, Lawrence will realize that any plan to follow me home will be delayed. He’ll play his hand. This is when we have no idea what he’s going to do and there could be a number of scenarios. For example: he hears the announcement and departs leaving his guys on board with us. If he departs, he’ll get as far as the stairs where Adam’s team will make the arrest as he walks up the stairs with the file. We can expect some action on board and Nick, your guys will move in and pick up Lawrence’s guys.”
“Got it,” Nick said.
“Or, it may be the case that we won’t get any action on board, and once Lawrence is arrested, there’ll be a stand-down. Highly unlikely, but possible. He could take advantage of the fact that the train’s not moving and stick his security guys onto us while we’re stationary. If this is the case, Nick, Officers Skinner, Watson and myself will deal with it on board. Adam, you will back us up once you’ve secured Lawrence’s arrest and managed any coinciding outbreak of action on the platform. So, worst case scenarios?” Mitch put it to the group.
Samantha started, “What if he’s not worried about the information going to the media or cops? What if he’s a sick bastard meeting you for kicks and opens fire at you at point-blank range?”
“In that case,” Mitch said calmly, “you’ll save my butt, Sam. The snipers will come into their own; you and Officer Kent are well positioned to take him out. It should be a routine exercise if we can isolate Lawrence and his men to that platform and last carriage.”
The group nodded.
“Be sure Lawrence doesn’t see you, Sam; he’ll know the game’s up,” Mitch reminded her. “Now, Ellie saw the Italian counting the distance from the platform to the exit, so I’m guessing Lawrence’s going to bolt and his security team will time their assault to begin on his exit. Finally, on board, what Nick says, goes. On the platform, Adam’s in charge. In sniper position, Sam will manage Officer Kent and take the lead from Adam who can see what’s going on. Ellie will be the markswoman at close range on the platform and oversee the guards at the entrances. Adam, Nick and Sam are all connected by intercom, so keep each other posted. Cool?”
“Cool,” they agreed.
“Civilians,” Mitch pushed on. “Anyone aboard the train will only be coming as far as Canary Wharf as the train will be marked accordingly – so we’ll let them exit. The only issue will be if any civilians get off the train and wait for a connecting one. Adam, your team has to get them out ASAP. The lockdown will ensure no trains come in or out on the line, so that should limit commuters, and it is going to be eleven p.m. on a weeknight.”
“We haven’t had large numbers on our test runs the last few nights,” Nick agreed.
Mitch turned to Samantha, “What have you got on SafeGuard?”
“Lawrence’s security team has five staff scheduled on according to the time sheet. I couldn’t get photos from their website, so we can only identify the two that Adam and Nick followed today.”
Mitch looked around. “Anything else?”
No one said anything.
“It’s a wrap,” he stood and headed for the door, sick of talking.
“Where are you going?” Samantha asked.
“For some air. I’ll be back in an hour.”