Angel finished filling her backpack then zipped the top closed. She pushed back against the wall and pulled the cap over her face then rested her head against the wooden wall of the barn.
‘You’re looking pretty relaxed there,’ H, who was still messing with one of his weapons next to her, said.
‘I’ve always liked the countryside,’ Angel said. ‘Nothing but fields and trees and fluttering butterflies and…’ She could tell by the look on H’s face that he wasn’t buying it. Actually, she hated the countryside. Hated it for many different reasons, but not least because out here the stench of manure wafted in through the airy gaps in the single-glazed windows of the unfinished barn conversion. ‘Why wouldn’t I be relaxed?’
‘You don’t think this is a big deal?’
‘Did I say that?’
‘So you’re just hard as nails. Nothing fazes you.’
‘I didn’t say that either.’
H scoffed. ‘I’ve worked with women like you before.’
Angel took the bait. She sat up straighter, lifted the brim of the cap so she could see him. He looked pretty damned pleased with himself as he caressed the barrel of his AK-47 like it was a cherished possession.
‘Women like me?’
‘Army. Police. Whatever. Women who have just a little bit too much testosterone and it really goes to their heads. Think they can mix it with the big boys just because they have more edge than the rest of the fairer sex. But… when it comes down to it, you’re basically just a teenage boy with a bad attitude.’
‘Bad attitude? And you’re basing that on what?’
H laughed. ‘So you’re not denying the rest of what I said, then?’
‘Every word that came out of your mouth was utter bullshit. So yeah, I’m denying all of it.’
H put the weapon down on his lap.
‘It’s simple physics, love. What do you weigh?’
She didn’t answer.
‘Go on, what do you weigh?’
‘Sixty-three kilograms, pretty much dead on.’
H laughed again. ‘Like I said, teenage boy territory.’
‘Brawn isn’t all that counts in my world, in the jobs I’ve done. And if you think muscle is all it takes… then you’re as dumb as you look, you moronic ape.’
‘Ooh, I touched a nerve. Now you’re resorting to insults about my looks. Very classy, Angel.’
‘Why don’t you just drop it.’
He held his hands up in defense. ‘I’m just playing with you. Banter, that’s all.’
Which was a lie, but she didn’t bite back this time.
‘We’re going to be putting our lives on the line together tomorrow morning,’ H said. ‘I want to make sure I know who you are and that you’ve got my back.’
‘I do what I need to do to get the job done,’ Angel said. ‘That’s all you need to know. Where the hell is Mason, anyway?’
She turned, stood up, stretched out, and looked at the grimy window next to her. He was still out there, by the cars, phone to his ear.
‘Who do you reckon he’s talking to?’ she asked.
‘Probably whoever’s paying us. Or whoever’s really running this thing.’
‘And who is that?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly,’ he said. ‘I’m just a hired gun. Same as you. But you know his past, don’t you?’
‘Not much of it.’
‘MI5. Spies. They’re all the same. Once a spook, always a spook. You should know.’
‘I was never a spy,’ Angel said, sounding genuinely offended. Because she was. She hated the term. It sounded so… grimy.
‘No? Not what I read,’ H said.
‘And what did you read?’
‘You know. About you, that shot from a rooftop in Beirut. Karaman, the little girl. You spending a few years in prison because of it all.’
She didn’t respond.
‘Sounds to me like they did you over.’
‘Yeah, they did.’ They? Her employer. Because they could have done more to rescue her. Done something. But mostly she blamed Karaman.
‘You have nothing to say about any of that?’
‘You said all that needs to be said. What about you? What’s in your past? Other than the obvious.’
‘The obvious?’
‘You were army. Infantry to start with. You probably started at sixteen because you were too dumb or just too into the idea of shooting people to go to college or anything.’
He nodded and smiled as though he found the truth amusing.
‘But… I see something in your eyes,’ she added. ‘A hardness. A coldness. But also chinks in what you think is your indestructibility. You were special forces of some kind, same as me. You’ve been hurt, and you’ve hurt others, and you’ve seen some bad shit and it affects you in ways you can’t describe. Actually, in ways you just don’t like describing because you think it makes you weak to even think about it.’
He looked far less amused after that. She’d hit a nerve.
‘Am I wrong?’ she asked.
‘Mostly right. But that’s not all I am. And unlike you and Mason, there’s nothing about me on the internet, believe me. I’m not dumb enough to get caught out like that.’
Just like that, his bravado was back. The guy was so full of himself. Angel really wanted to bring him down a few notches but… what was the point?
‘I don’t even know your name,’ she said. ‘It feels a bit unfair that you know so much about me and Mason.’
H shrugged. ‘And that’s the way it’s going to stay.’
Angel returned her focus to the outside.
‘How long have you known him?’ H asked.
‘A few days.’
‘You trust him?’
‘Enough.’
‘Same. But I’ll be watching my back until I get my money.’
The conversation paused and Angel kept her focus on Mason. He looked over toward her but then quickly away again, then he walked around the other side of the nearest vehicle as though he needed more privacy.
‘Have you slept with him?’ H said.
‘Why would you even ask that?’
‘That’s a yes, then,’ he said with a self-satisfied chuckle. ‘But you only met him a few days ago?’
‘Yeah. Up in Cumbria.’
‘And you’ve been with him every night since then?’
‘What is your damn problem?’ Angel said, pulling her attention away from the window and sending H a death glare.
He once again held up his hands in defense. ‘Hey, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to push your buttons.’ Which was the biggest lie he’d told so far. ‘I wasn’t trying to get at you for screwing him. But seriously, were you with him two nights ago?’
‘Actually, no,’ Angel said definitively and feeling quite satisfied about being able to do so.
‘Interesting,’ H said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He stared at the screen as he typed away.
‘What is?’ Angel said after a while.
H shrugged, carried on doing what he was doing.
‘What’s interesting?’
He smirked and she really hated that he’d reeled her in so much.
‘Does this face look familiar to you?’
He held the phone out and Angel moved closer. She took the phone from him and pulled it closer still. On a small screen, with a grainy image, it was hard to tell for sure, but…
‘So?’ H said.
‘You think that’s Mason?’
‘You said it, not me.’
It could have been Mason, but it could have been hundreds of thousands of people. The picture – possibly a still from CCTV – showed a poor-quality glimpse of a man’s face. Caucasian. Not too old, not too young. A thin face, no particularly distinguishing features.
‘What’s the point?’ Angel said.
H reached out for his phone and she handed it back to him.
‘This picture was released by the Met a few hours ago. This guy is wanted for murder.’
‘Murder of who?’
‘Fatma Yaman.’
‘And she is?’
‘Apparently an intelligence analyst. Which, given what we both know about these things, most likely means she was MI5 or MI6. I also have it on good authority that she was responsible for bringing Ismail Karaman to England.’
‘Shit,’ Angel said.
‘Karaman comes back to England after years on the run. Two days later the person responsible is found murdered in her home in London.’
‘You honestly think it’s Mason?’
‘Ask yourself, what does it mean if it is?’
She really didn’t know. Did it even make sense?
‘I think it means—’
‘How are you two getting along?’ Mason asked. Angel jumped at his voice and H looked amused by her reaction. Obviously, he’d seen Mason before she had and had chosen not to warn her.
‘We’re just peachy, aren’t we, Angel?’ H said.
‘Yeah,’ she said.
‘So, we’re all set?’ Mason asked.
‘Packed up and ready to go,’ H said. ‘We were talking though, and Angel did just have one question for you?’
Mason looked from her to H and back again, it was clear from the suspicion on his face that he didn’t like something.
‘Yeah? And?’ he said.
‘Who were you speaking to?’ Angel asked.
‘You don’t need to know.’
‘Maybe we do,’ she said. ‘If you want us to be in this with you, we need to know you’re not screwing us.’
‘Hey,’ H said, trying to look and sound all innocent. ‘This is her talking, not me. I tried to calm her on this already.’
Bastard.
‘I’ve already explained this situation to you,’ Mason said. ‘Your part in this is to help me get to Karaman. You get paid for that. What happens after you’re paid has nothing to do with you.’
‘I’m good with that,’ H said.
‘Angel?’ Mason prompted when she didn’t respond.
‘Run me through the plan again,’ she said.
Mason raised an eyebrow, looking at her as though fed up with her awkwardness.
‘Which part?’ he asked.
‘Top level.’
‘We go to London. We take Karaman. We bring him back here. We wait for the money to arrive. Three offshore bank accounts, one for each of us. Three point three million, and a bit, each. When we’re happy, we pack up and go to the drop-off and leave Karaman there. No exchange. No chance for us to be screwed.’
‘But who are we leaving him for?’ Angel asked.
Mason sighed. ‘Angel, I know what you’re thinking—’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes. If it was down to you, you’d put a bullet in his head and be done.’
She clenched her teeth, ground them hard.
‘But this is better. The money you’re getting for this will set you up for life.’
‘But where is Karaman going?’
‘We’re not setting him free. Just trust me on that.’
‘How can I trust you when you’re not giving me any real answers?’
‘If you want out, then get the fuck out. Now is the time.’ He pointed toward the door.
Angel said nothing.
‘Remember who I was, Angel. The type of people I know. You know as well as I do that if we leave Karaman in the British legal system he’ll never face justice. His lawyers will have him back in the Middle East in no time one way or another. And there’s little value to any of us if all we do is kill him.’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Angel said.
‘Well, I am. The people I’m working with… Karaman has value to them. Great value. Not in monetary terms but because of who Karaman is and what he knows. He’s not getting off lightly. Where he’s going… It’s going to be a damn sight harder for him than Belmarsh.’
The room fell silent. Angel chewed over Mason’s assurances. The simple fact was that he wasn’t going to give her any more information than he already had. No names, no real specifics about who he answered to or Karaman’s fate.
‘This time tomorrow you’ll have your money,’ Mason added. ‘And a new life.’
But maybe it was her old life that she wanted more than anything, even if she knew she could never have it.
‘So, are we good?’ H asked.
He’d really loved the whole thing. Setting Angel up like that when he had no intention of challenging Mason.
‘We’re good,’ Angel said.
‘I really hope so,’ Mason responded. ‘Get the cars ready, we’re heading out in ten.’
He disappeared off again. H looked so smug.
‘Happy now?’ she asked.
‘Hey, all I did was raise some legitimate doubts. Don’t you feel better for getting it all out?’
Strangely, the fact H was apparently cool with it all… It did make her feel that little bit better, even if she hadn’t gotten to the point of questioning Mason about Fatma Yaman. Did it really change things if he had killed the agent who’d brought Karaman here? She really didn’t know, because she knew from experience that nothing was ever black or white in the clandestine world of secret agents.
‘The point is,’ H said, ‘putting aside the sex, none of us knows the other that well. And I know you don’t like me. That’s fair. I’m an acquired taste. But ask yourself this, Angel. If things don’t go to plan, if it turns out this threesome isn’t quite as cohesive as it needs to be, and you haven’t been told everything you needed to know… Whose back have you got? Me, the guy who you know is in this for the money, and nothing else, and who’ll do whatever to make sure we get paid. Or the guy who you know isn’t being straight with you because he’s still got at least one foot in the world of spooks.’
He didn’t wait for a response. Just picked up his backpack and strode on out.
* * *
The sun wasn’t yet up and outside the car it was dark and freezing cold. Angel was tired, hours on the road, hours of prep. The last twenty-four – or was it forty-eight? – hours were a blur and she was exhausted, but sleep could wait. She was wired on adrenaline and caffeine. She was ready to go.
‘That’s it?’ H asked, looking out across the road to the closed gates.
‘That’s it,’ Mason said. He looked at his watch. ‘We don’t have an exact time. Between 7 and 7:30 a.m. is the expectation.’
‘Reporters are gathering already,’ Angel said, indicating the cluster of people huddled together in the dark. It wasn’t even 6 a.m.
‘Which is good for you,’ Mason said. ‘The more cover we have, the more bystanders we have to cause a panic, the easier this will be.’
‘Yep,’ H said. ‘We’re really gonna fuck their shit up out there.’
‘Let’s go over the basics one last time,’ Mason said. ‘Rule number one?’
‘Non-lethal only,’ H said.
‘The police, the guards, bystanders are innocents as far as we’re concerned, and none of us needs the extra heat of murder charges if we’re ever identified.’
‘Which we won’t be,’ H said, sounding confident of that.
‘Use the rifles and your blanks for effect,’ Mason added. ‘To get people running. If you need to put anyone down, use close combat or the tranquilizers.’ Which were loaded into their modified pistols.
‘Got it,’ Angel said.
‘Rule number two?’ Mason asked.
‘No hostages,’ Angel said. ‘Only Karaman.’
‘Rule number three?’
‘No comms unless we have a problem.’
‘Good,’ Mason said. ‘You break any of those and you’re risking everything, for all of us. Logistics?’
‘Three vehicles. Three exit routes,’ H said.
‘Except if we hit a snag and one of us needs assistance,’ Angel added.
‘Because we don’t leave anyone behind.’
‘Because we don’t want any of us identified.’
‘Seems like we’re all on the same page, then,’ Mason said. He fired up the engine. ‘Let’s go get a drink. In thirty minutes, we’ll be in position.’