Now the phones. With his personal mobile compromised, it had to be ditched too. He tossed it on the bed next to the discarded passports and grabbed the two burners from the safe. Both anonymously paid for in cash and untraceable to their owner. The only other person in the world who knew their numbers was Jeff Dekker. And that was good enough for Ben.
Next he turned his attention to the handguns, removed them both from the safe and laid them on the bed, too. One was a Springfield XD, polymer-framed, all-singing, all-dancing, state-of-the-art modern combat pistol. The other was the venerable steel Browning 9mm that he’d used for many years in the SAS. With its rugged design and fourteen-shot capacity the model had barely changed since its inception in 1935, because it hadn’t needed to. It was an old friend to him, fitted his hand like a tailor-made glove and had never once let him down.
Ben hesitated over the weapons. No question, he couldn’t go after a man like Jaden Wolf unarmed. But the travel issue was the sticking point. He could take the chance of finding a substitute once he reached his target location, but good, reliable hardware wasn’t always easy to get hold of in the field. On the other hand, smuggling a gun overseas was taking a hell of a chance. An even bigger one, if he was stupid enough to try to bring a firearm onto a civilian passenger plane.
But Ben had already decided that the fastest way to London was by car. And despite the risk, he had his ways and means. Making his choice, he stuck the old Browning and three loaded magazines into his pocket.
Next, he thought about money. His mission expenses were an unknown quantity. The full ten thousand euros was probably more than he needed, but five might be too little. Settling on seven, he bundled six thousand into his bag and kept the remainder aside to carry on his person. As he was slipping the wad of notes into his wallet, something fell out. It was a folded 4x6 photo print. The picture had been taken on a cold, sunny, snowy day back in January, during one of his early return visits to Scotland when he and Grace had gone hiking into the mountains above Loch Ardaich. Pausing to marvel at the scenery, they’d snuggled together while she snapped a selfie shot of them with her phone. On his return to Le Val he’d asked her to email it to him, and printed it out on the office printer. Faintly embarrassed at his own sentimentality, he’d been carrying it with him ever since.
Seeing the picture again now made him think of what he’d brought on her. If he’d been just some ordinary guy with a normal life, this threat would not be hanging over her now. She was in mortal danger because of him. Because she loved him.
He let the picture slip from his fingers. Looked up and saw his own raw, grim expression looking back at him in the mirror. A rush of self-hatred gripped him and he slammed his fist into the glass. Jagged shards fell to the floor. Breathing hard and fighting to contain his emotions, he looked at his hand and the blood oozing from his lacerated knuckles.
Get a grip on yourself. This doesn’t help her.
His hand hurt, but he didn’t care. He wiped the blood on his bed cover, then threw on his leather jacket, slung his bag over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
Chapter 5
Now for the tricky part: getting past Jeff and Tuesday without attracting suspicion. Ben was wondering whether it was better to say goodbye or just disappear. But that choice was made for him when Jeff emerged from the kitchen and collared him in the hallway.
‘What’s up?’ Jeff asked.
‘Nothing’s up.’
But Jeff wasn’t so easily fooled. Eyeing the bag on Ben’s shoulder he grinned and said, ‘Christ almighty, off again so soon? Don’t tell me you’re headed back to Scotland for more. What happened, did she forget to bring the handcuffs?’
Highly tickled by his own joke, Jeff roared with laughter until his face turned purple. Tuesday, who had appeared in the doorway behind him, rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘Please excuse him, Ben. It’s not his fault. The poor guy’s suffering from a bad case of suspended adolescence.’
The banter was just part of the routine at Le Val, a throwback to their military days. Ben knew that if he told his friends what was really going on, they’d drop the larking around like a red-hot coal and nobody in the world would be more deadly serious about offering their help in any way possible, with no concern whatever for their own skins. But as alone as he felt at this moment, however much he ached to share his problem with them, it was a risk he dreaded to take. If Saunders and his shadowy team of watchers got the slightest inkling that Ben had broken the rules by bringing in outside help, there would be nothing to stop them from carrying out their threat. Grace would die, and Ben could not live knowing he’d caused that to happen.
Stitched up tight.
No way out.
Except to do what he’d been ordered to do.
‘There’s something I have to take care of,’ he said. ‘Please don’t ask me what it is, because I can’t tell you. When it’s over, I promise that I will. But for the moment I need you to cover for me while I go off and deal with this, alone. I hate having to ask you to do that. I hate this whole situation. But that’s just how it is.’
Whatever quantity of wine Jeff might have consumed that evening, the effects of the alcohol seemed to vanish instantly and he was suddenly as sober as a brain surgeon. Both he and Tuesday were frowning and full of questions that they had to work hard to bite back. ‘You know we’re there for you,’ Jeff said after a beat. ‘Anytime, in any way. No matter what. You know that, yeah?’
‘I do know that.’
‘You’re sure this is how it has to be, mate?’
‘I have no other choice.’
‘Whatever you need from us, Ben,’ Tuesday said. ‘We’ve got your back.’
‘I appreciate it,’ Ben replied.
‘Hey, your hand’s bleeding,’ Tuesday said, noticing Ben’s gashed knuckles. ‘Looks like a nasty cut.’
Ben barely glanced at his injured hand. ‘Just a scratch. Must have knocked it.’
‘Hmm. Whatever you say.’
What Ben had to tell them next was too important not to mention, even though he knew it would sound strange. ‘Listen. One more thing. I need you to screen all phone calls to the office line while I’m gone.’
Now Jeff’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘What? Why?’
Ben replied, ‘Because Grace might try to phone. If she does, I don’t want you to pick up. And whatever you do, don’t call her back. Okay?’
Any verbal contact, however innocent, could be construed by the watchers as a breach of the rules. But with no way of knowing that, Jeff and Tuesday were taken aback by Ben’s request. Jeff was staring at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Enough messing around, mate. Level with us. You’ve been acting odd since you got back.’
‘I asked you not to ask,’ Ben said. ‘I don’t know how else to say it.’
Jeff said, ‘Come on, Ben. You can’t leave us in the dark like this.’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘At least tell us where you’re going.’
‘I’m going to London. All right? I have to go now.’
Ben clapped their shoulders, nodded his goodbye and left before they could see the emotions welling up inside him. The lump in his throat was one of gratitude for their trust and comradeship, and guilt for not being open with them. What had he ever done to deserve friends like these? And just when he needed their help the most, he was forbidden from accepting it. That thought only made him despise Saunders even more.