59

The city sat beneath a pall of cloud and fine drizzle. Typical British August weather. Black stared out from the shuttle bus from Heathrow Airport at the familiar sights of west London. The office buildings alongside the elevated section of the M4 motorway and the slate roofs of a multitude of terraced houses spreading out in all directions combined, as they always did in the mind of the returning traveller, to create a sense of deflation at the dullness of it all. Excitement and unpredictability belonged on foreign shores, this drab vista seemed to say. This was a land where orderly lives were lived quietly, behind closed doors.

Black was at once depressed and vaguely comforted by the scene. Part of him longed to melt anonymously into the grey suburban streets.

The bus rumbled on through Hammersmith to Cromwell Road and finally to Knightsbridge where he disembarked with nothing but a nylon rucksack and the cheap set of clothes – picked up from a Brazilian market stall – that he was wearing. He headed north on foot, angling west across Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens to emerge at Queensway. Here he made his way along the parade of tatty souvenir shops and restaurants and found a café that provided assorted services to tourists, including passport photographs, cheap international calls and internet time. He handed over five pounds for an hour at a well-used terminal, brought out the notebook he had filled during the long flight across the Pacific and began to type.

His statement ran to five full pages. When he had finished he emailed a copy to his solicitor, which he followed up with a call from one of the café’s payphones. The bewildered man at the other end of the line was Ian Watkin, a lawyer who occupied a small office in the Welsh border town of Hay-on-Wye and whose work seldom strayed beyond the settling of wills and the buying and selling of properties in the surrounding countryside. Nevertheless, he knew Black’s history and represented many other past and present members of the Regiment.

Watkin took careful notes and in an anxious voice read them back: ‘I am to forward your statement immediately to as many of the following as I am able to contact: the Director, Special Forces, the Chair of the Joint Intelligence Committee, the Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Defence, and the Clerk to the International Criminal Court. And if anything should happen to you, I am to publish the statement online and alert all media outlets.’

‘Correct.’

‘I’ll do my best … If you don’t mind my asking, are you in trouble, Leo?’

‘I’ll let you know later. How are Jane and the girls?’

‘Very well, thank you.’

‘Glad to hear it. Speak soon.’

Black glanced over the banister from the floor above and saw Towers step out of the lift. He made his way noiselessly down the carpeted stairs and along the short length of corridor. Towers was turning the key in the lock when the sound of approaching footsteps caused him to glance to his right. A momentary look of alarm crossed his face and just as quickly vanished again.

‘Leo! How the devil are you?’

‘Not too bad, all things considered.’

‘Excellent. Ha. I wondered what had become of you. Thought you’d gone native.’ He hesitated, holding the door partially open as if uncertain whether to go inside.

‘I could murder a cup of tea,’ Black said.

‘Of course.’

Towers entered the flat. Black followed.

They passed through the short hallway and into the sitting room, Towers shrugging off his jacket as they went.

‘I keep getting calls from some Russian drunk who claims we owe him a pension.’

‘That would be Buganov. Our pilot.’

‘Well, I told him he can buggerov.’ Towers laughed and hung the jacket over a chair. ‘Been back long?’

‘Flew in this morning. Alone, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh. I am sorry to hear that … What happened?’

‘Not entirely sure. It was very confused. You know how it is.’

‘Of course. I did manage to see some satellite images of the aftermath … Well, at least you’re back in one piece.’

‘Any news of Colonel Silva or Cordero?’

‘None at all, I’m afraid.’ He smiled regretfully. ‘But, overall, I think you can count your efforts a success.’

Black nodded. ‘Any chance of that brew?’

‘Coming up. Make yourself at home.’

Towers bustled through to the kitchen. Black listened to him filling the kettle and slid open the drawer beneath his desk.

‘You’ll be glad to know that Drs Bellman and Sphyris are extremely grateful for your assistance,’ Towers called through. ‘And they’ve been most helpful. Most helpful indeed.’

‘We were separated.’

‘So they said. They called the Embassy from the airstrip at Platanal. We sent in a plane from Guyana to pick them up. A few cuts and bruises, nothing major … They thought you were shot.’

‘Caught a round in the shoulder. A kind missionary helped me fish it out.’

‘Well, they were most apologetic for leaving you. Apparently they didn’t have much choice.’

‘Apologies accepted.’

Towers returned with two mugs of tea and handed one to Black. ‘There we are. Just like mother made it.’

‘Thank you.’ Black took a seat on the sofa while Towers perched on the hard-backed chair at his desk.

They looked at each other in silence. Finally, Towers shook his head with an expression somewhere between exasperation and relief. ‘I don’t know what to say, Leo. I admit, I feared the worst.’

‘No such luck.’

‘I should have known better. It’s a shame about Holst but, in any event, I hear his work is rapidly being replicated by others.’

‘I’m sure.’

Towers became suddenly earnest. He started to speak at high speed as if desperate to unload his thoughts as rapidly as possible. ‘This is dangerous technology and we need to be abreast of it. I’ve spent the last three days debriefing Bellman and Sphyris at a safe house and what they’ve had to say is chilling. Holst had perfected a neurochemical reaction powerful enough to overcome the human survival instinct itself. Bellman suspects Sabre had been bankrolling him for several years. He planned to use her research to industrialize the means of delivery and Sphyris was supposed to model future applications. The aim was to programme human behaviour, just like you’d programme a damn computer.’

Black observed Towers’ eyes lose their focus as he was swept up in the intensity of his monologue. ‘Bellman’s nanoparticles would have delivered Holst’s chemicals to neurons isolated by Sphyris. Things minute enough to be absorbed through the pores of your skin. It could have been applied to almost any product or ideology you care to mention. Imagine, Leo – opening a packet of washing powder, swiping the screen of a new phone or going to a political meeting and being delivered a dopamine hit powerful enough to ensure your lifelong loyalty. And then there are the military and industrial applications: soldiers and workers unwittingly programmed to operate like machines. Can you even begin to comprehend? That much power in the hands of an outfit like that?’ He paused and smiled. ‘The Committee are delighted, by the way. Over the moon.’

‘Do we have control of this technology now?’

‘Rest assured, Leo. Rest assured.’

‘And Mathis and Daladier?’

‘Already in detention. The only question is whether they’re extradited here or whether our American friends find grounds to indict them in the US. Either way, a suitably dismal future awaits. Good news on Pirot, too, and the young woman we suspect helped hook Bellman in the George V. The French picked them up attempting to board a flight to Cayenne. They’re currently in the tender embrace of the Directorate General for External Security in Paris.’

Black took a cautious sip of tea that was predictably foul. He had never known Towers make it any other way. It was oddly reassuring. Further confirmation of who he was dealing with: a man incapable of appreciating the experience of others.

‘I can only thank you, Leo.’ Towers tapped his fingers abstractedly on the desk. ‘I suppose now might be an appropriate moment for us both to turn the page … We’ve delivered all that was asked of us. I think we can consider ourselves home free.’

Black was briefly tempted by the idea to get up and walk away. To leave it all behind and let Towers be quietly put out to grass. But there was another voice aside from his demanding to be heard.

He gave it voice. ‘Finn trusted you, Freddy … So did I.’

Towers looked at him quizzically.

‘How much did you make – from selling Razia to Sabre?’

Black waited, watching his mind whirring and calculating, searching for an exit that no longer existed.

‘Was it just him or were there others?’

‘Are you all right, Leo? You look a little pale –’

‘It takes its toll – killing and remaining sane.’

Towers’ eyes flitted towards the door.

Black held him in his gaze. ‘I’ve made a statement. It’s gone to the Committee and the International Criminal Court. I’ve copied you in. I’ll be happy to testify against you.’

Silence.

‘You wouldn’t –’

‘It would be my pleasure. You were going to have me killed, Freddy, just as you arranged for Finn to be murdered. You served him up to Sabre on a silver platter. We were the witnesses who could have put you behind bars. The ones who could have exposed you as the grubbiest of dealers in human misery. Would you like me to spell out for you exactly what Razia was doing?’

‘I didn’t intend any of this, Leo. It was a mistake. A single moment of weakness in a long career. You’ve known me long enough to –’

Towers stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell to the Glock that Black had drawn from his pocket.

‘You should lock that desk of yours. Or maybe part of you wanted me to find it …? The court or a bullet. What’s it to be?’

They were disturbed by the shrill ring of Towers’ phone. Black motioned him to answer.

Towers picked it up and glanced at the screen. The remaining colour bled from his face. He braced himself and answered. ‘Duncan, hello. What can I do for you …? No, I wasn’t aware of that … Really …? Yes, well, let me have a read and I’ll get back to you directly. Of course.’ He rang off and lowered the phone slowly to the desk.

Black waited, the gun trained at Towers’ head.

‘Would you mind if I took a moment?’

‘Be my guest.’

Towers stood up from his chair and crossed to the French doors that opened on to the balcony. He stepped outside, pulled the doors behind him and turned his face to the cooling breeze. He stood perfectly still for a short while, then glanced in at Black and placed a hand on the railing.

Black looked away and studied a mark on the wall while he counted to ten. When he looked back Freddy was gone.

The bastard had left as he had lived.

On his own terms.