Outside by the south wall of the manor, Gray rested against the rendering and stared down at his phone. He hadn’t made any calls yet, the shaking going on with his hands wouldn’t allow it.
Around him, the quiet chatter of two pheasants as they walked across the green, dragging their tails behind them, did a gentle joust with autumn-like wind and rattle of leaf. He knew the fowl were there, could pinpoint their position and dine on one fine meal tonight if he wanted to, but he couldn’t look away from his phone. Logan’s still sat in his pocket, but he needed his own now.
Gray hadn’t spoken to his father for years. So what was that? His way of getting back? Of picking out information to make sure Gray lost everything close as penance for the shit he’d caused as a young man?
Giving a snarl and closing his eyes, Gray winced as he let the back of his head hit the rendering.
As he did, the phone slipped from his hold and into someone else’s. Gray eased his eyes open to find Jack looking around the grounds, then resting back by him.
“Talk,” he said quietly. “And quickly, mukka.”
Gray snorted a bitter smile. “I was given a bone and told to go fetch,” he mumbled, more to himself. Jack dug his hands in his pockets, but Gray caught the slight smirk as he looked down.
“I could have done him some serious damage, Jack.”
“I was there the last time you held a gun on someone,” said Jack as he came and leaned next to Gray. “You never even allowed for Q&A then. So hurt Jan...?” He was quiet for a minute. “No. You’d hurt for him like you do for me. Big difference, mukka.”
“Tell him that.”
Jack glanced at him as he slipped a packet of cigarettes out and lit one up. Gray looked away. Nerves always showed through in the occasional habit. “He’s smart, Gray. And he’s still here. He’s not packing.”
Gray gave an exhausted chuckle and Jack joined in too, the cigarette conducting them both.
“He’s a ballsy bastard,” said Jack, trying to control himself.
“Scared,” said Gray. “I don’t like seeing him scared.”
They both fell quiet, Jack to his own memories, Gray to how the two pheasants on the green seemed to have stopped and were going in circles looking for something.
“Who threw the bone?”
“Hm?” said Gray looking at Jack. The cigarette was down to the last few long draws of breath as Jack flicked off the heated ash.
“I’ve only seen you get torn like that when shit hits close to home. Who’s the caller?”
Gray turned into Jack and reached into Jack’s jean pocket for the mobile that Jack had stolen from him, hearing a vibration also come from Logan’s.
“Oooh, intimate, mukka,” groaned Jack. Gray raised a brow at his hard-on. Smokes and sex. That need to calm the nerves and get close to someone in the fallout... Jan was right. Jack wasn’t such a tough bastard.
Such a sweet and sexy kid beneath all that roughness... but you know that, don’t you, tough guy. It’s why you keep him close? Vince’s words paused Gray’s touch, keeping him frowning down at Jack’s pocket.
“Where are you now?”
Gray looked at Jack as he slipped his phone back in his own pocket and took out Logan’s. They were very similar and he hoped Jack didn’t pick up the difference. “Never far from here, stunner.”
Jack brushed a hand down Gray’s hip, and Gray winced, pulling back.
“Old bones there?” That smirk was too cocky.
“Damage at work done a few days ago,” said Gray, resisting rubbing at his hip.
“Yeah, I caught you saying that to Trace when he arrived. What did you do?”
“Just work,” said Gray. Now wasn’t the time.
A nod came, a look of worry, then such hard tone to grey eyes. “Then tell me who upset you.”
Jack took a long drawn out inhale of smoke. Gray leaned in and caught the exhale in a kiss, sharing taste and bad habit. He fucking loved it. Jack returned the heat, that need to know everything was okay between them all asked in the act. He’d asked Jan the same way too a few minutes ago. Jan’s taste was there in Jack’s kiss. Gray closed his eyes, needing to know both were okay with him.
“Fy nhad,” he mumbled, lips still so close to Jack’s now as Gray let smoke escape his nose.
“Hm?”
Gray eased back against the wall and thumbed Logan’s phone now. “My father.”
Jack dropped the cigarette and crushed it under boot. “You fuck him over for me when you catch hold of him, yeah?”
Gray’s focus was on the message across Logan’s screen.
Ten hours remaining. A number will be provided, and I expect you to give me a name. Kes.
Casting a look up into the woods past the green, Gray held his hand toward Jack. “Can I borrow your phone, stunner?”
Jack shifted slightly. “What are the odds of you having a low battery?” said Jack, shying back into the world of see no evil, even though he knew it was under his nose. “Do you need privacy?”
Gray shook his head as he typed a specific code so phone records couldn’t be traced, then he thumbed in Ed’s number before sending a message.
Get in touch with fy nhad; give him the name Kes, then ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing using Jan. What the fuck he thinks he’s doing by interfering.
Gray got a reply five minutes later, but it wasn’t off Ed.
Jan wasn’t mentioned, Gray. Richards was.
Nhad.
Gray frowned, then stalled. Richards. The anger was there that his father had access to Jack’s phone number and that he’d known Gray had used Jack’s phone in particular. Or had that come from Ed? Too many fucking people were involving themselves in this. But...
Jan wasn’t mentioned. Richards was.
“Jack,” he said softly, “did Jan ever mention meeting your mother away from the warehouse and the hospital?”
Jack wiped at his nose, then dug in his pockets for another smoke. “Not that I know of.” A cough was given and Gray frowned at the smoke. “Why?” asked Jack.
“Nothing in particular.” Gray eased off the wall. “Has your mom ever mentioned a family with his surname over the years?”
“Richards?” Jack thought about it. “Nope. Not that I can remember. My old man’s the best one to ask.”
Gray flicked a look up. “Go ask him for me, yeah?”
Jack looked at him.
“It’s important.”
“You have my phone.”
He knew he did, but time was fast running out, and if one person had access to Jack’s phone, so could Kes. Gray wouldn’t give Kes the playing space to expose Jack and Jan to seeing those photos and put them back in the torture. Not again. “I’ll tell Ray to fetch you a new one today.” Gray kept hold of Jack’s, and Jack’s worry only fed his own unease. “Take Jan’s too.”
Jack nodded and without saying anything, he headed back into the manor.
In all of the confusion and hurt of last year, had he missed something? Seemed the fraud was important, and last year, one other person who knew about Jan’s fraud had been killed. Rob Kershaw.
Looking down at Jan’s phone, Gray typed in Andrews’ number and followed Jack inside, then into the Oval, where he could dampen messages and also offer lockdown if needed.
“Who the fuck is this?” Sleep filled, Andrews’ voice and the tone suggested he didn’t like being pulled from it, especially considering it was only touching eight o’clock. He didn’t have that politeness Gray usually heard, and a taste of Andrews’ professional side away from work was good to catch.
“Can you talk?”
A hard shush was given, suggesting Andrews wasn’t alone, then the phone manhandled and the call no doubt scrambled at the hello and request for a safe comm line. “Go ahead.”
“Slight change of focus. I need autopsy details and accident report on Robert Kershaw.” Gray gave him Rob’s address and next of kin. “Look for a professional signature mark concerning his death.”
Quiet. “He’s tied to Richards and his workplace.” Andrews would have found that out when he’d helped deal with the dealer yesterday. “Did you get my email this morning?”
Gray hadn’t. He’d been over at A-branch most of the morning.
“639 had been using a sophisticated cloud source; it’s why these codes weren’t found on any of 639’s hard drives; they were stored externally. The cloud storage space itself was built by 639, another reason why its Internet footprint was virtually untraceable. Once Mike traced it and got access, we found the original six-item list of 639, one that had been app-jacked from a source we’re still looking into. But what we found on the list, it’s a list of ours.”
Gray frowned. “A list of MI5 ops?” He hadn’t recognised the internal acronyms; and if there was a list of known MI5 ops circulating on the streets.... “Were there any more codes beside the six we know?” Was this what Kes had meant by having access to the rest of the codes? Elena’s external cloud storage?
“No. Only the same six codes. And not a list of MI5 ops. MI6.”
Christ. What was Kes pushing for? Where was the rest of the list? But the database would have picked up that they were MI6 ops. And it also wasn’t a coincidence that his father had broken his distance too now. “Are they historical acronyms?” MI5 utilised three letters with a forward slash and a numerical for operatives in the field; MI6 opted for dropping the forward slash and utilising a, b, c... after the final numerical. His father would have recognised MI6 acronyms too.
“Yes. All six are deceased field operatives.”
“Date when all the list of ops would have been active together. Find out what they were working on, who they were partnered with.”
“Already done. No similarities found, except they were all active over twelve years ago. Some were based overseas with only minimal ties to MI6 for safety. They share no history other than this partial list.”
Gray rested against his office desk. What would Kes want with a partial list of MI6 ops from over twelve years ago? Rob was foremost on his mind, especially as the fraud had happened roughly two years earlier than that. Then a bad feeling crept up. “Run autopsy checks and an unofficial investigation into the MI6 deaths on that list. Look for a signature mark that might be similar to Kershaw’s.”
“Will do.” The call was cut a moment later, and Gray eased his phone onto his desk. Rob kept cropping back up and Richards was mentioned for a reason. Everything about this felt ill, and he was missing the carrier. Other than the names Kes and Richards.
A knock came at the Oval door and Jack came in. “Just called my old man,” he said, handing over Jan’s phone too. Gray peeled off the back and took out the battery. Jan wouldn’t be exposed to any images either.
“What did he say?”
“He doesn’t know anyone by the name of Richards bar Jan.”
Gray put the phone next to his own. “It sound good to talk to him?”
Jack shuffled his feet a touch. “It’s always good to talk to him. I’m just out of habit.”
Gray gave a look up, then said as he left, “Then get back in habit, Jack. Give him that.”
“And say what?”
“That you’re sorry for being an asshole since you were back and you want to talk.”
Jack mumbled something, then—“Where are you off to?”
“I need to talk to Jan, alone.”
He ignored how tense that seemed to make Jack.
Gray found Jan sitting on the settee in the lounge. Dare and Gabe had been to the kitchen and brought some beers back, which looked a damn good idea to Gray. Jan had his feet curled up underneath him, hand twisting the beer bottle he rested on the arm. Trace sat next to him, talking about some game that played out on the TV. Jan didn’t seem to be listening. Trace knew, but he still sat there trying to breathe life into Jan.
When Trace saw Gray, he made a point of stretching, then got up, taking his beer with him. “Want to go watch this in the games’ room, boys?”
“Huh?” Gabe glanced over, his look lost to how Dare played the wood by running his fingertips over it. “We’re not watching...” He let that fade seeing Gray. “Dare.” Gabe looked down. “You up for a game of pool?”
“Yeah.” Gray waited for Dare to catch on and—“Oh, yeah. Next floor up, right?”
As Trace passed, Gray patted his abs, his thanks for taking care of Jan. Trace returned it, then gave a worried glance back.
“He’s scared and damn ill,” he said quietly. “Go easy on him. Please.”
Gray nodded. “I know.”
Trace offered a sad smile, then took out his phone. Gray put his hand over the pad. “Make all calls from the Oval.”
There was a brief frown, then a nod. “You get another message?”
Ten hours remaining. A number will be provided, and I expect you to give me a name. Kes.
“A warning,” said Gray, and he looked at his watch as Trace snorted.
“This Kes knows when to hit, hm?” Trace tapped Gray’s arm.
Gray glanced quickly at Jan. “I’ve confiscated all phones. Make sure they don’t get access to any others over the next few hours, including your guys. That goes for iPads, MP3 players—” Gray rubbed at his head, nursing a headache, and Trace gave a sigh.
“Okay, we’ll handle this. Go talk to Jan.”
Gray waited for Trace to leave. Seeing Jan on the sofa, he went over and crouched in front of him.
“We okay?”
Jan shrugged, and when Gray picked Jan’s hand up and held it out with a finger underneath, it shook.
“I’m sorry,” Gray said in a soft tone.
“Not half as much as me.” Jan took a swig of beer as Gray removed his touch. “So fucking stupid back then.” He dug his fingers into his forehead and closed his eyes. “So fucking stupid now. I should have told you.”
“We’ve all done things we regret, Jan.”
Jan gave a bitter laugh. “Fraud, Gray. That’s slightly more serious. And you still want me here?”
Gray snorted a chuckle. “Have you met Jack? His shit-list? Mine? Besides... I love your soft ass warming my couch.”
That caught Jan’s attention.
“It took me over twelve years to say Jack has a place here. I’m not fucking up another chance, Jan.” He cupped his cheek. “You know I’m here for you as much as Jack, and as much as I’ll pull Jack up for fucking up, that goes for you too.”
Jan laughed softly and Gray caught a tear of his. “And when you fuck up?”
Gray gave a hard sigh, that run of tear taking his attention. “I’ll know, trust me,” he said gently. Again a message came through, and Gray shifted to make sure it came off his and not Logan’s.
Death certificate: Mr Robert Kershaw. Official cause of death shows massive haemorrhage due to penetrative head trauma. HIC (Head Injury Criterion) states that the head injury is relevant to acceleration and impact. No narcotics found in bloodstream. Accidental Death on a car crash verdict given.
Another text came through a minute later.
Interesting point: The car being driven was only a few months old, with stop/start fitted as standard. Computer reported that the engine had cut off 15 minutes before impact, but a mechanical investigation showed no sign of loss of power. It was marked as a technical glitch on the computer’s part.
It couldn’t have been the Stop/Start function. Micro-hybrid engines were one of the best eco moves in the auto industry to reduce fuel consumption and meet EU-guideline emissions; the engine cut off once the car stayed idle. Once pressure was applied to the clutch pedal, the car then restarted. Transition from start to stop, then stop to start was smooth enough for the owner not to notice, but it wasn’t ever meant to kick in whilst the car was in transit. Gray knew the Met had been working on a way to cut out a stolen car, mid-chase, by using something that tapped into the IBS system. But that was still at planning stage. Unless someone had beaten them to it?
Another vibration came from the phone.
Cruise control was pre-set at 70 mph, on a slippery road. Fault marked down on engine that: driver forgot to disable it by use of an on/off switch. Note from Kershaw’s wife stated that Mr Kershaw had a habit of leaving the cruise control on after coming off the likes of a motorway. He never liked the clutch option for cruise control.
Gray eased back a touch. Now that was something else. If the cruise control hadn’t been switched off, the car would automatically build to the preset speed. Add a slippery surface which the cruise control shouldn’t be used on, a minor distraction with the engine cutting out, a forgotten cruise control, a very handy, and no doubt well-placed barrier....
Historic death reports on MI6 ops. Four out of six died of natural causes outside of field duty. The remaining two were accidents. Both automobile. Engines were before on-board computers. No engine fail filed, but both of the deceased had similar injuries to Mr Kershaw. MI6 investigated, but accidental death notices were given, note: grudgingly.
Gray looked at Jan. Had Elena been the smart one in this? Maybe she’d known things could go wrong and had possibly hunted for some evidence to bargain with against those who funded what she did.
Why highlight a possible link between the codes and Richards? Between the possible accidental death link with MI6 deaths and Rob? Why mention Kes? Had the missing part of Elena’s code been hidden for that long? Twelve years? More importantly, and somewhat darkly, had Kes been on the scene for that long?
Someone knew something. And if not Jan, Elena, or Jan’s father due to his death, then....
Oh.... Gray stroked gently at Jan’s leg. “Would it be okay to go and talk to your mother? I need to ask her some questions. You okay with that?”
“My mother?” Jan frowned.
“I just need to run some questions by her about your father.”
Jan sat up. “You going to tell her about the fraud?”
It was there, the need to take away that look, but mentioning Rob, a possible murder investigation into his and his toddler’s death, all to possibly do with the fraud? It would tear him apart only further. It would have to come at some point, but Gray would delay it as long as possible. And he’d damn well make sure some evidence was lost so his part of the fraud wouldn’t be mentioned at all in any court of law.
“Only what’s necessary for me to clear some details up for my own records. I won’t mention your involvement. Not if you don’t want me too.”
Determination was there in his eyes. “I swear I’ll tell her. Just... just not now, please.”
Gray nodded.
“You don’t have to come with me.” Gray managed a weak smile. “But I have a really lousy history with in-laws.”
Jan nodded, choked a laugh, then eased down a little.
“Go where?” said Jack, padding back through with two cups of coffee. Sitting next to Jan, he offered him one, then Gray got the other. Jack pinched sips from both, tasting from both mugs (one white with one sugar, Jan’s black with none) and Gray hid a grin at the symbolism.
“My mother’s place.”
Gray winced. He kind of figured what was coming next off Jack.
“I’ll get my coat.”