Chapter Twelve
Starbucks, two blocks from MI6 Headquarters
London, England
It was twenty-five minutes before Carrie stepped out of the cab. She paid the driver, who did not seem impressed by the tip. Carrie shrugged and dashed toward the café, which was less than half empty.
She looked for Mandy but did not see her. As Carrie pulled open the door, an eerie feeling crept along her body. She had read about the untimely death of one of MI6’s deputy directors, which had taken place right inside the café. According to the news reports, the middle-aged man had been enjoying an espresso and then had complained of chest pain. The official cause of death had been heart attack, but Carrie had heard rumors about someone poisoning the MI6 official. Nothing that CIS or anyone else of the intelligence agencies could confirm. I’ll just stay away from espressos.
She found a secluded table with only two seats near a back corner. Carrie had barely sat down when Mandy rushed in. She was dressed in a dark blue felt coat and was carrying a brown briefcase. Her long hair was messy, thanks to the strong wind gusts. She probably walked from her office.
Mandy fixed her hair as she nodded at Carrie. “Sorry, I’m late. Something came up just as I was stepping out.”
“No worries. I just arrived. Traffic was crazy.”
“Welcome to London.” Mandy grinned. “Did you order?”
“No.”
“What do you want? My treat.”
“I’ll have water, please.”
“Really? They make a wicked flat white.”
Carrie shook her head. “I’ve had enough caffeine for the day. Water will be fine.”
“Be right back.”
A couple of minutes later, Mandy sat across the table. She offered Carrie a water bottle, then placed a large cup in front of her. She took a sip and said, “Blonde espresso. You should try it.”
“I’m more of a tea person.”
“Oh, so was I until three, no, four months ago. Then I switched and never looked back.”
Carrie uncapped her bottle but did not drink from it. “What do you have for me?”
Mandy took another sip, then reached into her briefcase. “I wanted you to see this.” She slid a white folder across the table.
Carrie skimmed the first page. It contained what looked like a personnel file of an Asian-looking man. His name was Fu Sung Zheng. His birthplace was listed as London, England. Zheng was taller than most Asians that Carrie had met; at least, that’s how the file described him, at 5 feet and 10 inches. “Where’s this from?” Carrie cocked her head toward the file.
“SAS. Zheng tried, but washed out in the early stage. He didn’t have the physical, but mostly the mental endurance.”
“And he’s Chinese?”
“His parents are from Hong Kong. Zhang was born and raised here.”
“All right. Was he close to Thames?”
“They were buddies during those first weeks. Then Zhang washed out, but they kept in touch.”
“For a few years, I see.” Carrie flipped to the next page.
“Yes, they’d meet up once in a while. But recently, their visits became more frequent.”
“You told me Zhang demanded a favor. What was it?”
“It was to deliver a message.”
“What message and to whom?”
Mandy shook her head. “We don’t know. They weren’t able to intercept it, but we suspect it was for someone close to Thames.”
“His teammate?”
“That’s possible. Or someone else in his squad. Or an unknown person in Syria.”
“When was this available?”
“SAS put it together shortly after Thames’s disappearance. They didn’t regard it as important at the time. But now, as we’re looking back through the new Chinese lens, things have started to make sense.”
“And how did SAS learn about this meeting and the message?”
“They didn’t say, and, of course, I didn’t ask.”
Carrie nodded and sipped her water. Her mind went to Mary, who had informed Carrie about Thames going for a jog that Saturday morning when he was back to London. Yeah, that’s probably when Thames met Zhang. She glanced at the file. “When did this meeting take place?”
“The date should be there.”
Carrie’s eyes went up and down the page until she found it. The date was there, but not the day. She reached for her phone and glanced at the calendar. She nodded as that fateful day was actually a Saturday. Yes, this matched up quite well. “Where’s Zhang now?”
“We’re looking for him. His phone numbers aren’t good, and neither is his address.”
Carrie shrugged. “Without Zhang, this is just speculation.”
Mandy shook her head. “We know there’s something here. This isn’t a coincidence.”
“What if we’re seeing things because we want to see them?”
Mandy cocked her head. “I don’t follow.”
“Let me put it this way: We have suspicions related to the Chinese, right? So, we’re seeing them as suspects everywhere. Mary, Thames’s girlfriend, who’s also Chinese, like Zhang, Thames’s old friend from SAS training. Aren’t we grasping here?”
“No, I don’t think so. Doesn’t it surprise you that Thames has so many Chinese connections?”
Carrie gave Mandy a curious glance. “What, you don’t have any white friends?”
“Well, I do ... but still, this isn’t usual.”
“In London? It’s more common than you think.”
“Even if it were so, I don’t think this is by chance.”
“Do Mary and Zhang know one another?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s something to explore. I’ll get a hold of Mary.”
“All right. And I’ll take this to Justin.” Carrie closed the file.
Mandy leaned forward and closer to Carrie. “Yes, about Justin, can I let you in on a secret?”
Carrie gave Mandy a puzzled gaze with arched eyebrows. “You know a secret about him?”
“Yes, he seriously doubts I’m telling him the truth.”
Carrie waited for another moment and said, “That’s all?”
“Yes, even though I’m sharing all intel as it hits my desk.”
“Mandy, it’s not a secret that Justin doesn’t trust you. It’s not something that comes easily to him, or to me for that matter.”
“Oh, so you think I’m lying too?”
“No, no, I believe your intel is genuine.”
“But?”
Carrie hesitated for a moment. “I’m confused as to your motives.”
“But I’ve explained that—”
“Yes, yes, we’ve heard the reasoning, and it sounds good. But not quite.”
Mandy leaned back in her chair. “What’s missing?” she said in a sharp, cold tone.
“You’re going behind your boss’s back to help us, a foreign agency. Why would you put yourself in a vulnerable place if there wasn’t a significant gain?”
“There is. Stopping the attack and keeping my city safe, that’s the gain.”
“Very noble of you, but most people wouldn’t take this approach.”
“Well, I guess I’m not like most people,” Mandy said in a terse tone and took a long sip of her water.
Carrie held Mandy’s fiery gaze for a long moment and said, “Mandy, none of this is personal. You understand that; you’re a pro.”
“I understand how you’re making this cooperation quite difficult.” Her voice had turned neutral but had kept some of the initial sharpness. “But we’ll get done what we’ll get done. I just hope our fighting over intel won’t prevent us from stopping this plot, whatever it is.” Her tone changed to what sounded like genuine concern.
Carrie nodded thoughtfully. She knew of numerous cases when bickering among various security agencies stalled action, allowing for terrorists to escape or worse, to carry out their devious attacks. On the other hand, until she was convinced of Mandy’s true intentions, it would have to be a tense relationship. “I hope not, Mandy, for everyone’s sake.”