Don't... 04 Backlash (50 page)

Kes was invited
intelligence; he could have gained access to anything on that
invite if he had the aptitude. Gray had also met the Interpol
agent, which by default shifted Kes in Mossad’s direction. Mossad
made up one third on the Israeli Intelligence Community, and had
kept close ties with both MI5 and MI6 after the London 7/7
bombings. Gray had worked alongside Mossad intelligence then. Anger
settled in, how so much ground had been fused between intelligence
communities and how—

“Aww, you can’t
touch him here, Welsh. Not on English soil.” Martin grinned over,
then looked at Kes. “And doesn’t Kes know it. Not so much as
diplomatic immunity, but certainly enough to cause a shit storm if
he’s killed over here by an MI5... what now? How far up the ranks
are you now, Gray?”

“Director of
G-branch,” said Kes, ignoring Martin’s whistle, and instead tapping
the notepad. “There are two missing MI6 code names to that list.
One is of-of no relevance. The other, he was a double agent for
Interpol, then turned traitor. He has information on several Mossad
agents.”

Gray
smiled down, just briefly. “And with two previous agents from that
list already taken out for the same thing, here was me
thinking
Kidon
was
just a piece of fiction.”

Martin glanced
over. “Kidon? That some sort of Israeli cologne?”

“You missed the
military connection.”

Martin
frowned.

“Oh.” Now Kes
was interested “And just what would you know about Kidon, Mr
Raoul?”

Gray stayed on
Martin. “Specialist department within Mossad itself, drawn from a
military background, apparently. Our guest here isn’t interested in
collecting the information gained on Mossad agents; he’s out to
silence the double agents, as he was all those years ago. You were
the buyer back then?” He paused. “The Bhasin case, when he
predicted cells would migrate.... He’d seen you. It’s why he was so
eager to leave. It’s why those Al-Qaeda cells have migrated over
the past year....” He looked at Kes. “They got nervous hearing a
Kidon agent was back on English shore.”

“An official
Mossad assassin given licence to hunt on British soil.” Martin
leaned forward. “Now I’m impressed.” He looked over at Gray, back
at Kes, down his body. “Your gun bigger than his? Can I lick it and
see?” Then he frowned. “Question.”

He won Kes’s
attention.

“We’re talking,
what? Over twelve years here, right?” said Martin. “Why didn’t
whoever paid for this bollocks give me a kick up the ass back
then?”

“Martin,” said
Gray.

“Here,” came
the grinned reply, then Martin seemed to catch on. “Oh.... Jack
wasn’t home back then, I was. The prats here that night would have
mostly heard me say Martin with Mase.” He chuckled a little. “All
those years... you’d have been looking for Martin. Well... until
someone finally wised up.”

“Hmm,” said Kes
to Gray. “You have me at the duh-duh-disadvantage, Mr Raoul. I
would really love to learn how many other cullers roam British
soil... who calls them out... whether they are military-led and
tied to MI6.”

“Would it make
you sleep any easier?” said Gray.

Kes smiled.
“Would force persuade you?”

“Possibly. You
have him at gunpoint.” Gray leaned back against the wall and folded
his arms.

Martin sniffed.
“Possibly? Well hear the bastard in that. He’d allow poor Jack to
be shot first before he’d divulge secrets.”

“Business,”
said Kes. “Mr Raoul knows you’d be shot today if I pushed for the
name of his organisation. Although with Mr Raoul’s military
history, the assumption is there that they are the UK’s equivalent
to Kidon. Nobody knows, or is prepared to... divulge. So with you
here? Mr Raoul’s conscience would survive eventually. But if it
were Jack...” Gray got a nod. “Which is why he knows I can ask but
he won’t be forced to answer. You’re not Jack, even though I really
wuh-wish you were now.”

“Huh. You used
me as insurance so he wouldn’t push about your other...
extracurricular activities.” Martin’s hand went to his chest.
“Gutted, Gray. Fucking gutted. See me after school. Bring the cane.
Maybe the horse twitch.” He eyed Gray up and down. “Definitely the
horse twitch.”

Gray tensed
slightly as Kes pulled out an envelope. “Damage limitation between
departments,” he said to Gray. “This is the name of the so-called
Funder behind Mr Harrison’s and Mr Richards’ behavioural treatment.
The man who gave me the intelligence regarding who Martin was and
then was... persuaded to hire my specialist services. Also where he
and the young garage mechanic will be once we are finished here.
Little consolation knowing I arranged how they would be broken, but
enough to give you something for the hurt done, and to satisfy a
bruised British ego.” He put the envelope on the table. “I get a
code, you don’t get me, but you do get this and Mr Harrison’s young
mechanic.”

“Unharmed.”

“Shaken,” said
Kes. “This is business, nothing personal.”

“Nothing
personal,” said Gray.

“Erm.” Martin
raised a hand. “Getting personal here... what’s in this for
me?”

“What would be
your terms?” asked Kes.

“
Shoot
her
.” He
shifted his head in Gray’s direction. “Please. I’ve tried stabbing,
keeping Jack hostage, letting him see Jack fuck other people... I’m
really running out of options here. I can add a real sweet please
into that afterwards if you do. No dogs, I’ll just make sure Jack
sucks you off real sweet.” He pulled a worried frown. “Unless you
prefer the dog?”

Kes watched
Martin for a moment, then moved over to Gray. Martin raised both
hands. “Talking here.”

“Have fun with
the Funder, Mr Raoul.” He stopped by Gray. “Mr Harrison speaks the
codes, I’ll know if he’s lying.” He pulled out a smartphone and
held it up, the suggestion clear that he no doubt had access to
MI5’s Durbar database and the names and addresses that would come
with Martin’s intel. “I’ll kill him if that’s the case. But he
gives the right codes, you’re free to leave. Don’t ever cross my
path again. I will kill you, mostly for petting a whore like that.
Oh, and five minutes left.”

“Nos da,” said
Gray, not looking at him.

Kes frowned,
then Gray waited for him to leave. It suggested the room was
bugged, but also that Kes was serious about letting them walk
away.

“What a rush,”
said Martin, running a bloodied hand through his hair. “Can we do
it again, naked? I’d really like to get fucking naked now. Fuck
knows you’re feeling the frustration with not being able to fuck
that over, right?”

“Codes.” Gray
kept an eye on his firearm on the floor. “Now would be a good time
to remember it.”

Martin gave a
stretch, winced and grabbed at his arm, then levelled his gaze.
“You’re wearing them, gorgeous.”

Gray frowned
and Martin let that smirk creep up. He came over and Gray shoved
his hands away as he reached up to Gray’s neck.

“Easy,
princess.” Martin came back in close, his breath brushing the curve
of Gray’s throat as he let his fingers trace up to Gray’s neck.

“Thanks for
keeping it safe for me.” A kiss came at Gray’s throat and he felt
Jack’s black rope necklace shift.

Martin eased
away in the next breath and played the rope through his fingers
until he came to the silver cross. “Thought it was important to
Jack. Found it wrapped my throat often enough.” There was a shimmer
of a smile, albeit a sad one. “Italian design. Always was big on
family.”

He pushed
at the black cross that sat on the top of the larger silver one and
a
click
came as the black one slid over
to the side.

Gray nearly
groaned as Martin pulled out a thin roll of inch-long paper. All
those years ago... the fight in the alley with Jack—the night Jack
had lost the necklace during the fight with him, just who had gone
back a few days later, looking so determined to find it? Had it
been Jack scrambling around in the darkness for it? Martin...? A
mixture of both?

Did it even
matter anymore? Other than Martin knowing he could have given Gray
these codes in the beginning, nothing else mattered.

Martin unfolded
the paper. “Don’t take it personally, princess,” he said, that
smirk still there. “I wanted to see who came out to play, too, let
you measure dick lengths, so to speak.” He read out all of the
codes, which no doubt covered the missing two, then he turned to
the window, necklace dangling through his fingers like a Rosary,
his arms wide open, and waited.

Then was made
to wait a whole lot longer. Kes needed time to find the codes on
MI5’s database, and he knew the order to close it down could only
come from Gray.

“Like to make a
point, these lot, don’t they?” said Martin, and the moment he
finished...

The sniper
lasers flicked off.

Martin looked
down, then back over his shoulder. “None of you Intelligence ops
want to risk getting dirty today.” But as he went to take the
envelope off the table, Gray stopped him and took the list
away.

“That wasn’t
meant for you. Neither is the necklace.”

Martin came in
close, all play dropped from his eyes as Gray took both off him.
“It works both ways now. You can’t move twenty feet without my
shadow fucking yours. So you just carry on rolling over for a
petting so I can get my hands on this so-called fucking
Funder.”

Saying nothing,
Gray picked up his gun and checked Martin’s arm. Satisfied it was
only superficial, from a good shooter, he turned away and pulled
out his mobile. The necklace was given a safe place back around his
neck. It was his now, so was Jack, and he made that clear enough to
Martin.

Andrews spoke
first on the phone. “Mossad? I saw him enter.”

“Kidon. Get
MI5’s database shut down. He has access.”

“Fuck, shit,”
said Andrews, and Gray heard him fumble for something. “Since when
did the UK become their playground?”

“
Since a
few MI6 ops started selling on intel about other Intelligence
Agencies, including Mossad. Get the following two codes over to
MI6, and if they’re still alive, get the two MI6 ops into
protective custody. Kes will be moving quick to get the job done
and get out of the country. Let the director-general know one has
been passing on intel. I’d like to know who.” Gray gave him the MI6
codes, then opened the envelope. He recognised the address printed
across it and was more than aware it could be a setup. He read the
address to Andrews as he made it outside. “A development area for
the Thames Tideway Scheme. It’s a storage-and-transfer sewerage
tunnel that’s still under construction beneath the Thames. There’ll
be construction access points.” Gray didn’t need to check that
Martin followed, just held the door open to his Merc for him to get
in. After he climbed into the driver’s side, he thumbed a switch
that would distort any listening device. “Recon the sewerage
tunnel, look for explosives, cameras. Two men should be there. If
the area is clear, the Caucasian teenager with blond spiked hair is
to be taken back to
home
.
Clear?”

“Clear.”

“Let me know
when the area is clean. And is the database down?”

“I sent the
code via beeper. It’s being taken offline, but it takes time.”

“Just get it
shut down and kept down until we find out how Kes got access via
his smartphone.” After getting off the phone to Andrews, he put a
call through to Rachel, needing some specific paperwork filed
through for both him and Andrews. Andrews was to get his first.

Martin snorted.
“Aww, you need a safety blanket to suck on whilst they make it safe
for you too? If not a blanket, I can think of something your mouth
could take comfort with, now Kes has let you suck his.”

Gray shifted
into gear, ignoring Martin. Kes would have killed Martin easily
enough, but he’d been stuck behind as much red tape as Gray had
when it came to handling a director of G-Branch. Which is why Gray
very much doubted there’d be any explosives; it was too overt for
Kes, but that wasn’t saying other accidents couldn’t occur along
the way.

Gray arranged
for an unmarked car to be left in Milton Road, not far from Acton
Central. It had taken time to get there, giving his MI5 contact in
Acton time to get what Gray needed. Acton itself was an area of
west London, situated in the wider London Borough of Ealing. It was
also the planned starting point for the Thames Tideway Scheme,
running west through to Abbey Mills in the east.

The main tunnel
extended from Acton Storm Tanks, already working as a Thames water
pumping station and storm water tanks site. The option should have
been there to take Martin back, but with the main tunnel connected
to a working flush system, the potential threat for an accident
was... calculable, making getting there the priority.

From the boot
of the car, out of sight of the row of houses, he pulled out two
red sewerage suits. They came with working gloves and full-face
protective masks, enough to look the job and give Gray all the
anonymity he needed. After slipping off his jacket and putting it
in the boot, he eased into the suit.

Martin watched,
that smirk to his face. “I found your no-go area with kink.” He
picked up the other suit. “No scat-play, according to that level of
protection.”

Gray ignored
him as he pulled on his gloves. The protective boots would be
needed when they got to the site. The gun he kept close, and
Martin’s constant look up and down his body wasn’t anything sexual,
just an attempt to find out where he kept the secondary device to
the electronic tagging. And no doubt which pocket he also kept his
Merc keys in. He turned away slightly.