Tom opened his eyes and then closed them again. Shafts of bright light were coming through the shutters splintering into blinding rays. His body ached all over and he put his hands out to feel what he was lying on. Earth or concrete perhaps. The buzzing noise that had woken him was getting louder and more persistent. He opened his eyes again. This time more cautiously using his lids as shades. He turned away from the shutters to the inside of the room. It was stifling. He saw a shape draped across some sort of couch against the far wall. Now he remembered. They were in Gita’s sister’s house. He looked at his watch. 10.00 am. He’d only been asleep for three or four hours. The phone kept ringing. He rolled over and dug it out of his back pocket. It had made an indentation in his backside, reminding him that it would be the last time he would go to sleep on it.
‘Hi, Tom here,’ he managed to gasp, his voice rasping from the dryness in the air. ‘Nathalie?’
‘Thought there was something up, you took a long time to answer.’
‘Sorry I was asleep.’
‘Have I got the time difference wrong or something?’
‘No, it’s mid-morning but we’ve had a rough night.’
‘We?’
‘It’s a long story.’
Nathalie took a sip from her cold beer and nodded to the waitress who was asking if she had finished her meal. ‘Call’s expensive but have got the time, fire away. You were going to tell me about those requisition papers you found.’
Tom’s head was clearing. He now saw that there were four of them in the room. Gita’s sister was on the couch, Gita on some sort of mat on the floor and Nick propped up in a sitting position in the corner. He would feel worse than Tom when he woke.
‘Give me a moment, I’ll take this outside. Let the others sleep for a while.’
He limped to the door, still cramped from lying on the bare dusty floor. It was as hot outside as it was in. Sunlight danced in ribbons across the facing canal, but the palms were motionless in the still air. He looked down the row of shanty houses. The residents had either gone out for the day or had decided to keep in the shade, for the street was empty.
‘Are you still there Nathalie?’
‘Hearing you loud and clear Tom. Can’t wait to hear about these papers. I think I’ve found another connection.’
‘Oh yes, the papers. That’s how we got into this mess.’
Nathalie knew better than to shout out a number of panicky questions so she just waited.
‘Sorry I cut you off the other night. We had a bit of a problem.’
‘No worries, I thought it was the reception.’
‘No, not that sort of reception anyway. Gita, Nick and I had broken into the laboratory compound.’
‘Gita?’
‘Yes the lab assistant I told you about.’
‘Go on.’
‘Gita and I are quite small so Nick got us under the fence and told us he would follow on. It was dark but Gita knew the way so we found the admin hut and the papers that I sent you.’
Tom heard a noise from behind and turned to see Nick standing in the doorway.
‘It’s Nathalie.’
‘Who’s that Tom?’ asked Nathalie.
‘It’s Nick, he’s just woken up.’
‘Can I talk to him?’
Tom handed the phone to Nick. ‘She wants to talk to you.’
Nick winced as he reached out for the phone. He looked down at the bandages around his leg. Dark brown bloodstains were seeping through them.
‘Hi boss. What’s it like in sunny California?’
‘Pretty dark at the moment Nick, it’s late evening here. Tom is not exactly getting to the point. He said you’re in a mess. I thought that was precisely what Geoff sent you out to avoid.’
‘No damage done, I think. Could have been a lot worse.’
‘Nick!’
‘I just got held up. Have to lose weight. Got stuck under this bloody wire.’ He rubbed his leg gingerly. ‘Still got the scars to prove it. Anyway Tom and his girlfriend went on ahead and checked out the hut. Must have made a bit of noise because some runt of a guard crept up on them. Lucky for Tom I crept up on the guard. Lights out and thank you ma’am.’
‘He isn’t…?’
‘No, he’s fine, bit of a sore head but…’
Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief and then confronted her next concern. ‘Did he recognise any of you?’
‘We don’t think so.’
‘You don’t think so.’
‘I’ll give it to him, Tom was pretty quick. Just as the guard opened the door he fired his phone flash at him. The guy was putting his hands to his eyes when I bopped him. Don’t think he saw a thing, and we didn’t wait to ask.’
‘So why so long in reporting in.’
‘Ah, that’s down to me I’m afraid. We spent a while making it look like attempted burglary. You know, found the safe, jemmied it open, strew money around the place. By the time we’d done that it was getting light, and I wasn’t very mobile to run for it, so we hunkered down in some bushes and waited all day until it got dark again. That’s why we are all exhausted. Only got back four or five hours ago.’
Nathalie drained the last of her beer. The restaurant was getting busy and it was becoming more difficult to talk.
‘Okay Nick, sounds like you did your best. Put me back to Tom.’
Tom took the phone from Nick’s outstretched arm. ‘Hi, did you get the picture?’
‘Yes Tom, because of your quick thinking we’ve still got a chance to shoot this location.’
‘Not so sure about that Nathalie. Don’t believe he recognised us and they’ll probably think it a bungled burglary…’ Tom paused wondering how he was going to break the news. ‘I’m afraid there’s another problem.’
Nathalie closed her eyes. Geoff had abandoned the Afghanistan idea and that only left two key locations. The Indonesian laboratory and Zimbabwe. She couldn’t afford to lose one of these now.
‘Another problem? Which is?’
‘It’s Gita. She’s been traumatised by the whole breaking-in thing. She’s absolutely refusing to take a camera into the laboratory and even worse won’t be interviewed.’
‘Maybe after…’
‘I’ve tried everything. Said we would protect her, film the interview in shadow, disguise her voice. It’s no good. She is really scared. Said she’s going to call in sick, make an excuse to resign.’
‘You could stall her. Buy some time. See if she feels different after a day or two.’
Tom looked across at Nick who was now sitting in the dirt against the wall in front of the house. He’d already suggested this to Nick, but knew it was useless. Nick shrugged his shoulders.
‘We’ve already bought all the time we can,’ said Tom into the phone. ‘Nick’s policeman friend gave us forty-eight hours and that’s nearly up. He said they can’t turn a blind eye any longer. I think they’re going to raid the laboratory this afternoon.’
‘Shit,’ said Nathalie. The couple in the booth opposite her turned to stare. She put up her hand in apology. ‘Sorry, bad news.’
It really was bad news. She had already started to map out the programme. Undercover shots of a suspicious laboratory, paperwork showing nefarious dealings, an interview with a lab assistant explaining the dangerous nature of the microbes. Now this was all shot down in a single telephone call.
‘Okay Tom. This is what we do. Go to the police station with Nick. See if you can negotiate with them to take a camera to the raid. I’m sure the police force there will have one for filming evidence. It’ll be a crap camera, and Geoff will hate it, but beggars and all that. Say if we can have a copy of the footage we’ll make their outfit look really good on broadcast TV.’
Tom thought for a moment, feeling slightly faint. Someone in the vicinity had started to prepare a meal. The scented smells of coconut and lemongrass stole across the veranda. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten.
‘Okay, that might just work. Nick’s pretty persuasive. We’ll give it a go. And if they agree, what do you want us to do?’
Nathalie snapped her reply. ‘Go with them of course, we’ll need someone to direct that police cameraman.’
London’s Soho district languished in the warm summer rain. Geoff pulled up his collar and ran the last few yards to the steps of Bagatelle’s offices. It was early for him but Stefanie had arranged a teleconference with an international consortium concerning viewing rights. A pain in the arse but it had to be done. She greeted him with a double espresso and a warm croissant.
‘Here, let me take that wet raincoat. You’ve time to dry off and drink this. The Italians have just called to delay the conference by half an hour.’
Geoff raised his eyebrows.
Stefanie predicted his thoughts. ‘No problem though, I’ve rearranged with the others. They’re okay about it. Give you time to look at your e-mails too. One from Nathalie a few minutes ago.’
Geoff ran a paper towel through his wet hair and took the croissant and coffee across to his desk. He switched on his computer and took a bite from the pastry as he waited for it to boot up. He hated early mornings, early for him anyway. He’d grown up with the old television production habits, start late finish late. A hangover from the days when TV broadcasts only started in the afternoon. Production meetings would tend to start late morning and then the studio directors would work late into the night. A lot different now of course. Thousands of channels, twenty-four hours a day. No such thing as standard hours. As and when needed had become the norm. Just like this bloody teleconference. Guys from all over Europe on different time zones. And now the delay. He could have had an extra half an hour in bed listening to Radio 4. The icons were now lit up on his screen and he had started to log into his e-mails when he was interrupted by the buzzer on his desk.
‘Yes, don’t tell me they’ve brought it forward again?’
Stefanie’s placid voice came through the intercom. ‘No Geoff, we have a visitor, wants to talk to Nathalie. I told him she’s in the States but he said he was just passing and thought you might want to know some information he has.’
‘Can’t you take a message?’
‘I suppose so but I think you would like to hear directly from him. It’s Doctor Styne, you know the physician Nathalie was talking to about the Ebola virus. He has more news concerning that poor woman with memory loss.’
‘I don’t know why it’s our problem, she just wandered in here off the street.’
‘Yes, but Nathalie asked this man to report in any facts he could find out about her. She had Nathalie’s card remember?’ Stefanie’s voice became a little more persistent. ‘He’s a busy man and has taken the time to come in, so I think the least we can do is to see him for a few minutes.’
Geoff knew when he was beaten. ‘Oh all right, show him in,’ he sighed. ‘Just make sure I’m not late for that teleconference.’
Doctor Styne walked in cradling a cup of freshly brewed coffee. ‘I understand Miss Thompson is away. I realise that you must be very busy but I thought I really must pass this information on.’
Geoff gestured to the seat the other side of his desk. ‘Please sit down. No it’s very kind of you to come in person.’
‘Thank you Mr Sykes. I was passing a few blocks away and I thought…’
‘I’m sure Nathalie will be very grateful. Now what would you like me to tell her?’
Doctor Styne sat down and placed his cup on the mat that Geoff pushed towards him. ‘She was very keen to follow up on Esther Phillips.’
‘Esther Phillips?’
‘Yes, it’s the name of the woman who stumbled into your office with memory loss. We’ve found her again. Although not exactly we – an associate of mine in the neurological unit.’
Geoff pulled a pad out of his desk drawer and plucked a lethally sharpened pencil from a Perspex pot. ‘I’m not sure why Nathalie is so interested in this case but give me the details and I’ll pass it on.’
As Styne took a sip of his coffee the aroma floated across Geoff’s desk. The doctor sat back in his chair. ‘At first, I must admit, I wasn’t sure either but when I explain the situation that’s just arisen, you may understand why she’s been so keen to follow it up.’
The overhead sun had just begun to dip as the four unmarked police cars crawled slowly down the single-track road. Nick and Tom followed them in the 4×4, trying to keep their distance. Michael, Nick’s policeman friend, had been adamant.
‘I gave you forty-eight hours, more than I should have. Any more and it will be noticed by the top brass and I could lose my job. Besides, if it’s as dangerous as we think it is we should stop it now.’
And stopping it now was what Michael was about to do. Twelve armed policemen in the lead with four guys, dressed in what looked like spacesuits, taking up the rear. The saving grace was that the unit had agreed to film the raid. Nick and Tom could come along as long as they kept out of the way. The guard at the gate looked puzzled to see the convoy.
‘Passes?’
Michael held up his badge. ‘This do?’
The guy in the beret with the gun over his shoulder glanced into the car to see the other heavily armed men. His only experience to date had been to wave his gun at kids and a few nosy passers-by. A threatening gesture to this lot wasn’t going to work. He nervously reached for his walkie-talkie.
‘Wait here, I’ll call the boss.’
‘You do that sonny, and while you’re waiting lift that barrier or I’m afraid we will have to drive through it.’
The guard was at a loss of what to do. He looked at the barrier, then at his walkie-talkie. Michael made up his mind for him. The bull bars of his jeep crashed through the red-and-white striped obstruction.
‘Tell your boss to meet us at the main entrance,’ Michael shouted back, ‘we’ve got a few questions for him.’
Nick trailed the cavalcade over the debris of the barricade and through the compound. As they pulled up at the entrance to the white painted concrete laboratory, Tom jumped out and ran towards the policeman with the camera.
‘Did you get the smashing of the barrier?’ he shouted.
The policeman looked at him sharply, ‘I thought you were told to keep out of the way.’ But it was obvious that he was enjoying this as much as Tom.
‘Yeah I know, I’ll just keep behind your shoulder. Two eyes better than one. If I see anything I’ll just point. Okay?’
The police cameraman nodded. ‘Okay, but if any shooting starts just drop on the floor and stay there. I don’t want to be responsible.’
‘Will do,’ said Tom. ‘Look over there, they’re breaking into the door.’
Two officers were shattering the glass-panelled doors, swinging a heavy metal object with handles into the locked entrance. It gave way easily. Whoever had set up this institution hadn’t really expected a brazen full frontal attack. The guys with the spacesuits poured in. Tom encouraged the cameraman to poke his lens through the open door to film what was going on. The laboratory workers froze. Tom couldn’t see their expressions through their protective goggles but no doubt they were terrified. Calmly and methodically the white-suited policeman walked down each laboratory bench and began collecting the samples, placing them into airtight containers. Tom was startled by a loud retort from the other side of the compound. He and the photographer wheeled around to see a black Mercedes veering out of control.
‘Some guy’s trying to get away,’ cried Nick from the seat of his 4×4. ‘Jump in if you want to film the action.’
This wasn’t exactly the brief that the cameraman had been given. Film the evidence, and any documents on site. Not an action-packed car chase. He hesitated, then with a glint in his eye jumped into the passenger seat next to Nick.
‘Go, go, go,’ he shouted. ‘I think they’ve shot his tyres out.’
Tom nearly missed the ride as he swung into the lurching rear door of the moving vehicle. The Mercedes was now heading towards the perimeter on bare metal wheels, the rubber having been ripped off by police gunfire. The sharp spinning steel was now digging into the earth as the car left the tarmac and headed across the grass borders straight towards the exit gate. As the car came to a stop the door swung open and a suited dark-haired man leapt out and began to run. He didn’t get very far. Michael had left two armed officers with the guard at the barricade. One put up his hand and told the man to stay where he was.
Tom could just about hear the conversation, which was cried out in English.
‘Police, you are police? Help we are under attack from terrorists.’
‘Not terrorists, this is a raid. Keep your hands where we can see them and come with us. We have some questions that need to be answered.’
Nick pulled up by the broken barricade. Tom and the cameraman jumped out to film the rest of the dialogue. The man in the suit was protesting loudly.
‘Raid? What do you mean raid ? We are a legitimate biotech laboratory. Manufacturing microbial products for antibiotic research. What you are doing is dangerous, these microbes must be kept in sterile conditions. If they get out you will be responsible, I’ll sue, tell the press, this is outrageous!’
Tom watched the cameraman film the rant. The guy sounded convincing. What if he had got it wrong? What if this laboratory really was a bona fide outfit? Not only would they have no film, he doubted that he would have a job. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that Nick’s hand on his shoulder made him jump.
‘If you’ve got all that, I think we should head for the Records office. There’s some stuff in there that should tell us whether this snake in the grass is lying or not.’