Ryker and Angel took the first opportunity to leave the UK. The Eurostar terminal at St Pancras was as busy as ever, which at least helped them to blend in with the crowds. The moments waiting for their passports to be checked were nervy as hell, but they weren’t stopped by any police, or by the border guards, and were soon on their way into Europe. Not that either of them were traveling on passports with their real names.
‘I told you we’re probably more alike than you realize,’ Angel said as they settled down into their seats.
‘Because we both kept some souvenirs from our past lives?’
‘Not souvenirs, actually. My IDs are my own. Sourced and paid for.’
‘You must have some good contacts, because that’s a legit passport you were waving around back there.’
‘I know,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘Same to you.’
She rested her head back, looking up, and sighed. ‘Do you think we’ll get all the way without hitches?’
‘I honestly don’t know. Just because we’ll soon be out of the UK doesn’t mean we’re home free.’
‘In my experience it takes time to connect police forces across the continent whether or not you’re involving Interpol. The fact we’ve acted quickly should help.’
She spoke calmly about the predicament, as though cross-border travel as a wanted criminal was entirely normal for her. He’d had to do it many times in the past, but he rarely came across other people who had, and who had come out the other side still free.
‘I’m pretty confident we’ll be good now at least until we get out of the Schengen zone,’ Ryker said. ‘After that we have a border check in Romania. Bulgaria. Finally Türkiye.’
‘If we go through the official border crossings.’
‘We will unless we feel a need not to.’
‘Three nights before we get to Istanbul?’
Which was where the Arhans lived. Melike Arhan being the sister of Ismail Karaman’s wife. Ryker so far knew little about the Arhans but he had three days now to do as much research into the couple as he could. Perhaps it was a stretch to think they were involved in the Syndicate, or that Karaman was with them, but even if he wasn’t the Arhans were now people of interest, and the fact was that Ryker was sure Karaman would have left the UK by now. The Middle East was an obvious destination, so traveling in that direction – away from the UK where he and Angel were wanted by the police – was the best course regardless.
‘Three nights, six trains,’ Ryker said as he settled back in his seat.
‘Time to catch up on some sleep then,’ Angel said, then she shut her eyes. And stayed that way.
So Ryker took out his laptop and Podence’s wife’s phone. He connected the two and took only a few minutes to break through the phone’s security. He’d do this part quickly. If Podence’s wife had already realized her phone was missing – stolen – it wouldn’t take long and it’d be easy to track it through GPS, especially if she alerted her husband who had access to MI6 resources. So Ryker would copy everything he could then dump this phone in Paris at their first changeover. Before that point he needed to sift through as much data as he could.
He’d managed five minutes before the train arrived at Paris Gare du Nord.
Angel awoke as the train slowed.
‘Damn, I forgot how quick it was to get here.’
‘There’ll be plenty more time for sleep yet,’ Ryker said.
‘You find anything?’ she said, indicating the phone.
‘Nothing that leaps out. But a whole host of new contact info that could prove useful. I’ll filter it all and match it against the data I have from Yaman’s computer, plus from the SIS databases I can still access if her accounts haven’t been locked down already, and see if anything comes out of it.’
And he still needed to do the same with Melike Arhan and her husband, Hakan – a partner in an accounting firm, according to his LinkedIn profile – to see what mentions he could find of them in records Yaman had access to.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Ryker said.
They left the station for the short walk to Gare de l’Est, where they’d take a TGV to Stuttgart. Ryker dumped the phone in a trash can as planned. Angel seemed more edgy than before as they walked, the bustling city surrounding them. Traffic, pedestrians, sirens.
‘You OK?’ Ryker said.
‘I’m fine.’
There really wasn’t any time to dwell as they were soon on their next train. A super-fast blast across France and into Germany, arriving in Stuttgart a little over three hours later. Next up after that was the sleeper train to Budapest.
That train finally gave Ryker and Angel more time to settle, for them to openly talk, for Ryker to work without fear of someone seeing his screen. They bought a ticket for a two-bed cabin on the Kalman Imre, although the reality was that the cabin was smaller than a lot of the prison cells Ryker had been unfortunate enough to stay in. Two tiny bunk beds lined one wall with just enough space the other side for Ryker to stand up and stretch in. A little sink sat in the corner; bathrooms were shared between the whole carriage.
‘It’s not exactly the Orient Express,’ Angel had remarked as she’d jumped up onto the top bunk when they’d first walked in.
No. Nothing like the luxury of old. Although it didn’t seem to bother her much as he’d heard barely a peep from her since, keeping true to her previous comment about wanting to sleep. Perhaps because she needed rest, or perhaps as a way of avoiding conversation with Ryker.
And he left her that way for nearly three hours before waking her.
‘Angel,’ Ryker said, knocking the underside of the top bunk with his fist.
‘What?’ she said without hesitation, sounding entirely alert. Had she actually been awake the whole time?
‘You need to see this.’
She jumped off the bunk, landing on the coarse carpet with barely a sound. She looked dubious as she sat back on the mattress next to him. He indicated the screen and she stared for a few moments and he waited to see if she’d understand without his need for explanation. She reached out and scrolled, taking in the full document.
‘Is this real?’ she asked.
‘It’s real.’
‘And this is, what? Just sitting there in an MI6 database?’
‘It is. A database that not many people have access to, and even fewer people have probably looked at this file since it was put there. But still, it’s there.’
She buried her head in her hands, breathing more heavily.
‘This is… This is too much.’
‘But you were right,’ he said. ‘They lied. About everything.’
‘I didn’t even shoot that girl!’ Angel said, her infuriation muffled because of her hands.
‘Not unless you shot her with a 9mm, from that rooftop several hundred yards away.’
Ryker looked again at the screen. To the hospital report that was filed within a heavily redacted dossier covering the attempted assassination of Ismail Karaman in Beirut. Except the hospital report was very clear that the bullet taken from the little girl’s leg was a 9mm projectile. And looking at the photographs it was obvious she’d been hit with something small rather than the much larger and more powerful bullet from Angel’s sniper rifle which would have caused significantly more damage.
‘Why?’ Angel asked, lifting her face which had gone red and blotchy, her eyes too.
‘Which part?’
‘Why me? They could have just gotten me out of the country, but they let me go to prison for something I didn’t even do. Why did they do this to me if I did nothing wrong out there?’
It was a good question. And Ryker really didn’t know the answer.
‘My take?’ he said. ‘The assassination of Karaman was sanctioned by MI6, but Podence or whoever else who was protecting Karaman found out. But they only found out last minute. Which was why you were attacked on that rooftop as they tried to stop you, just in time.’
‘But I did shoot my rifle. A single shot.’
‘But you didn’t hit that girl.’
‘Then who did?’
‘Were you the only one out there that day?’
‘No. There were three of us. But… only one close enough to shoot her like that.’
‘Do you know their name?’
‘No. I knew nothing about him.’
Blue. Kind of like H, she’d only met him right before the job. Red she knew, but not Blue.
‘Maybe he fired the shot, trying to get Karaman.’
‘Or maybe it was just a wayward bullet as he fought off an attacker, just like I had to.’
‘The fact he wasn’t captured and put on trial like you were suggests most likely he’s dead. Probably died out there that day. But Karaman, Podence, they got their revenge on you. Even though they knew you didn’t fire that bullet.’
‘I wish they’d just killed me too.’
‘No. You get to live so you can bring these people down. We’ll make them pay, not just for this but for all their corruption, their crimes.’
She scoffed and sent daggers his way.
‘I wish I was like you,’ she said.
‘Like what?’
‘No real cares. No real life.’
‘Excuse me?’ She sounded really bitter and he didn’t like it at all.
‘You still haven’t told me about your past but I see it in everything you do. This is all like a game for you. Blasting from one melee to another, kicking ass, taking down the baddies, shooting, stabbing, whatever, because you just like the damn drama.’ He cringed at her words. The way she described him made him think of Brock Van Der Vehn. He buried the comparison as best he could. ‘But what’s it for, really? What does it all even mean to you?’
‘It means I get to make a difference.’
‘Yeah, well, I never wanted to make a difference. I just wanted to do my job and be with my family. The Beirut op? It would have been one of my last.’
‘Do you know how many times I’ve said something similar? Yet here I am still.’
‘But I’m not you. I’d already made the decision. I wanted out. I’d done my time, sold my soul, I just wanted my husband and my daughter. I was in love. Everything good in my life was stripped away because of that one damn bullet. It doesn’t even matter that I didn’t fire it—’
‘Yes, it does. It means everything.’
‘To you, apparently. And that’s your problem. You’ve not lost like I have.’
‘Which just shows you know nothing about me.’
‘Yeah? So come on, then, tough guy. Tell me. Sure, you’ve probably been wronged and you go out and get your revenge. But what have you actually lost in your life? You probably never had anything to lose.’
‘I lost my wife,’ Ryker said and the simple response seemed to knock Angel, who had no immediate comeback. ‘And I loved her more than anything.’
‘I…’
‘And you want to know her name?’
Apparently not because she didn’t answer.
‘Angela. How about that for coincidence? Angela Grainger. She was an FBI agent. We met… in an unusual way. We were both lost souls, I guess. But the love was real. And it’s the only time I’ve ever experienced it. And it’s the only time I ever will because the pain of losing her was too much. I’m never going through that again.’
‘She died?’
‘She was murdered. Because of me. Buried in the garden of our home while I was globetrotting, trying to dish out justice on deserving scumbags. You know, kind of like the guy you just described before.’
‘I’m… sorry.’
‘If I’d just stayed with her, which was what she begged me to do… she’d still be alive. Just like if you’d stopped one job before… you’d still be with your daughter. But you didn’t stop, did you? And neither did I.’
Angel didn’t say anything.
‘I can see your pain,’ Ryker added. ‘And I’ve never had a kid so I can’t fully imagine what it’s like not being a part of your daughter’s life when you love her so much. But at least be grateful she’s alive, and well, and don’t ever think I don’t know pain too. The person I am today is only because of the torment I’ve been through.’
He waited to see if she had anything in response. Apparently not.
‘I do what I do after all these years not because I’m some bloodthirsty mercenary,’ he said, ‘but because there are still bad guys out there who won’t be taken down otherwise. But I also do it because it keeps me moving forward, away from that pain in my past. I’ll never forget, but if I stop and do nothing…’
He trailed off, losing his train of thought.
‘I misjudged you,’ Angel said, holding her hands up. ‘Sorry.’
Ryker’s phone lit up with an incoming call. No ringtone or vibration but both of them looked at the screen and Ryker knew Angel was wondering who was calling as he answered. He turned away from her but didn’t feel the need to leave the cabin.
‘Yeah?’ he said.
‘I’m guessing you’ve already left the UK,’ Winter said.
‘Yeah.’
‘Want to tell me where to?’
‘No. Any news your end?’
‘Nothing’s changed here. Your names are still out there, so you did right to leave. But I do have some intel for you.’
‘You do?’
Winter sighed and then said nothing as though having second thoughts.
‘I played to Podence’s ego,’ he eventually said.
‘Sorry?’
‘I called him. Emailed him. He ignored me the first few times, but the simple fact is that I’m still one of them. Still on the inside. So he couldn’t just cut me off cold without sending the wrong signals. As far as he knows, I know nothing about his treachery. And… we spoke.’
Ryker gripped the phone a little tighter. ‘What did he say about me?’
‘Not a lot. Mostly he talked about me, actually. About ensuring I knew where my loyalties lay so that when the authorities caught up with you, I didn’t go down too.’
Even tighter. Ryker imagined the device shattering in his hand.
‘It didn’t end particularly friendly,’ Winter added. ‘So I’m afraid he told me absolutely nothing – no confessions about Karaman, other than confirming the news reports that he’s now dead.’
‘Which he isn’t. So what’s the intel?’
‘I know where he’s going.’
‘He told you?’
That didn’t seem likely, given what Winter had just said about the conversation.
‘No. But don’t forget the circles I hang around in, Ryker. I know a thing or two about cloak and dagger.’
‘OK?’
‘I had a… friend on side with me. Tracking Podence’s phone in real time. Podence is in Istanbul. Looks like Karaman’s gone home.’
‘Got it,’ Ryker said, betraying no emotion even though he was beaming inside that his hunch had been right.
‘Oh, but Ryker, that’s not all. I know exactly where he is in Istanbul. Although I can’t guarantee for how long.’
‘I’m listening.’
Winter told him the location, and Ryker thanked him before ending the call.
Angel gave him an imploring look, but he held his tongue a few seconds more as he processed the conversation.
‘It looks like we just hit the jackpot,’ he finally said, unable to stop a wide smile from spreading across his face.