Sure Fire (7 page)

Stabb waited for Ivan and Carl at his hotel. He was staying at the Gloucester, one of the larger, better hotels in Central London. After supervising the capture of Chance and seeing him safely on to the plane, Stabb had spent a few minutes updating Vishinsky. He was surprised his employer had come in person to collect Chance. Surprised and a little unsettled. It seemed from subsequent videophone conversations that Chance was not being cooperative.

So perhaps, Stabb thought, he should have gone with Ivan, Alexei and Carl to find Phillips.

This thought was reinforced by the phone call he took on his mobile in the hotel's Concierge Lounge. It was nearly five in the morning and the lounge was
almost deserted. Certainly, there was no one within earshot.

“Killing Phillips was not the plan,” Stabb said, keeping his voice quiet. “We needed to find the sample. If Phillips is dead, he can tell us nothing. I thought we made it very simple for you.”

“You told us where he was, not that he was armed,” Ivan protested from the other end of the phone. “He went to Chance's flat, so we assumed he was collecting the sample.”

“You assumed! You should have checked, made certain.”

“We got into a shoot-out. We had no choice.” There was a pause before Ivan added nervously: “Alexei is dead. And Carl took a bullet too. It isn't bad but he's very weak. It won't stop bleeding. I can't take him to a hospital.”

“No, you can't,” Stabb said quickly. This was becoming a nightmare. “So where was Phillips when you killed him? Where is he now?”

“In Chance's flat.”

“Which is probably crawling with police by now.”

“I doubt it. The shots were muffled and it's a pretty solid building. The floors above and below
Chance are empty. Deaf woman on the ground floor. Not sure about the top. Students I think. Probably slept right through it.”

“But you didn't wait to find out,” Stabb guessed.

Ivan sounded hurt. “We searched the place, top to bottom.”

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. The sample isn't there.”

Stabb sighed. “This is a mess. Now we have no leads at all.”

“Except the kids.”

“What? The kids were there? Tell me the kids weren't there, Ivan.”

“They got away, but—”

“But nothing. We'd better meet. But not here. I don't want Carl bleeding on the hotel carpet. By the west entrance to the underground car park where we met before. In ten minutes.” He ended the call and tapped the small mobile phone against his palm as he considered.

Exactly ten minutes later, Ivan was explaining in more detail what had happened. Stabb listened without comment.

They were standing inside the underground car park – a forest of concrete pillars supporting the building above. Carl was leaning against the side of a people carrier, breathing heavily. There was a sheen of sweat across his face and he was clutching at his side. Stabb could see where the blood was leaking through his clothes.

“All right,” Stabb said when they were done. “There's nothing more we can do for the moment. It's out of our hands for now. But be ready, Ivan – I may need you again soon.”

Ivan said: “What about Carl?”

“Ivan said you can get me out of the country,” Carl said. His voice was throaty and hoarse. “Make me disappear.”

Stabb nodded. “We can't afford any loose ends – that's for sure.” He held out a gloved hand towards Carl. “Give me your gun.”

Carl struggled to pull the handgun from his jacket and handed it to Stabb.

“Yes,” Stabb said, turning the gun over and examining it. He chambered a round. “I can make you disappear.” Then he levelled the gun and shot Carl through the forehead.

“Get rid of him,” Stabb told Ivan, handing him the gun. “It's easier to get rid of a body than a wounded man.”

Ivan looked down at the corpse slumped against a wheel of the people carrier. “I shall bear that in mind,” he said.

The internet café didn't open till nine and it was barely six. Rich and Jade found a place that was open for early breakfast. It was smoky and greasy and the ketchup on the tables was in red, tomato-shaped plastic bottles that had crusted nozzles.

But the man serving the first customers of the day was friendly enough. Jade guessed from the size of him that he ate what he served – all of which seemed to be fried.

“Don't suppose you have a vegetarian option?” she asked.

The man just stared at her.

“Like juice and some fruit or cereal?” Jade tried.

The man stared some more. Then he slowly shook his head.

“OK,” she said. “Toast. Surely you can do toast?”

“I'll have a bacon sandwich,” Rich said. “And coffee.”

“Tea,” Jade said.

“One bacon sarney, a tea and a coffee,” the man said. “And some toast.”

They sat where they had a good view of the street. Not that Jade expected the men from the flat to find them, but she kept a nervous watch. The street was getting busy as morning arrived and London came to life. It was amazing how early some people were up and off to work.

They ate in silence. When they were finished, Rich said: “You think we should go back to the flat?”

“Or call the police.”

“They were no help before.”

“There's a body now,” Jade whispered.

“If it's still there.”

A shadow fell across the table. Jade looked up, assuming it was the man from the counter. It was a woman holding a mug of tea.

“Do you mind if I join you?” the woman asked.

“There's lots of other tables,” Jade pointed out. “And we're having a private conversation actually,” she added quickly. She knew Rich would just agree. He was far too polite.

But the woman sat down anyway, despite Jade's
words and her glare.

“I know,” she said, her voice accented. “About your father, I expect. And what happened at the flat.”

Jade and Rich stared at her. She was strikingly attractive, with narrow features and black hair that hung down almost to her waist. Her jacket looked like it came from a top fashion shop. She smiled at them.

“Look, who are you?” Jade demanded.

“My name is Magda Kornilov. I am a colleague of your father's,” the woman said. “I want to help him. To help you. If you will let me.”

Jade looked at Rich. He shrugged. “How can you help us?” Jade asked.

“I can tell you what he was doing and why he was taken.”

“Then you know…” Rich started. He broke off as if unsure how much to say.

Magda nodded. “I know everything. I know your father worked for an oil company called KOS. I know he didn't want you two around just at the moment because he was worried you would find out what he is really up to.”

“And what's that?” Jade wanted to know.

“He is a spy,” Magda said. She sipped at her tea. “This is very good.”

“A
spy
?” Jade asked.

“An industrial spy, not like James Bond.” Magda put down her mug and mimed shooting Jade with her fingers. “Bang bang.” Her smile faded. “Though there is a lot of that, I am afraid, especially when you play for such high stakes.”

“Tell us,” Rich said. “We're listening.”

“Very well. At the oil company, at KOS, they know your father as Mr Lessiter, an expert in oil refining and polymer chemistry. There is a real Mr Lessiter of course, and that is who they thought they had employed.”

“Those letters – the ones Dad threw away,” Rich said. “Remember? They were addressed to someone called Lessiter.”

“Your father is living in Lessiter's flat,” Magda said. “Lessiter is away – paid off, or hidden, or perhaps even held captive.” She shrugged. “I don't know which.”

“Why should we believe you?” Jade asked.

“It's up to you. I'm asking for nothing. I'm offering to help. Believe me or not, but I am telling
you why your father was not in his own flat, did not get his own mail, did not want you around, encrypted his phone conversations. And was kidnapped.”

“Because he's an industrial spy,” Rich said.

Magda nodded. “KOS has developed a new formula – when added to petrol and other fuel oils it makes them far more efficient. You can run a car for longer on a litre of treated petrol. Airliners can travel further without refuelling. You can imagine how valuable such a formula would be. Your father stole it.”

“Never!” Jade exclaimed. There was a lull in the background noise as people in the café turned to look. “I don't believe you,” Jade said more quietly. Rich shuffled in embarrassment.

Magda smiled and sipped her tea. “It explains away many things that have worried you. Why not believe it?”

“Are you saying that these KOS people – the oil company – that they found out?” Rich asked. “Found out and took him? Why would they do that?”

“They would not,” Magda said. “I work for KOS. I know. It was not them, though your father did steal
a sample of treated fuel which we very much want back.”

“Then who took him?” Jade said. She was leaning back with her arms folded.

“KOS does a lot of work for the Ministry of Defence. Sensitive work. Anyone spying on KOS might have access to sensitive material that could harm British defence. There are security considerations.” Magda leaned across the table towards them. “Did you wonder why the police were so unwilling to help? Why they did nothing – even when there is a shoot-out in the middle of London they do nothing.”

Rich and Jade exchanged looks. “Go on,” Rich said.

“Because your father was not kidnapped. He was arrested, though he will never come to trial. I imagine he no longer officially even exists.”

Jade shivered as she remembered their visit to the police station, the fact there was apparently no record of their father. “But who took him?”

“The Security Services. MI5 or MI6, it doesn't matter which.”

Jade frowned. “Why are you telling us this?”

“I worked with your father at KOS. OK, he is a spy, but I liked him. I think the Security Services have over-reacted.” She lowered her voice. “They
Killed
Phillips,” she said. “He was your father's contact. Another spy. And they shot him down.”

“He had a gun,” Jade pointed out. Rich frowned at her.

“They were shooting at him,” Rich told her. “He was wounded, remember. They shot at
us
, Jade.” He turned to Magda. “Thank you for telling us this.”

“What's in it for you?” Jade asked.

“I just want to help. It's a tough business, and children should not be involved.”

“And that's it?” Jade said.

“That's it. Although if I could find the sample of fuel that your father took, that would be of immense help. Its return would give us something to bargain with. Something I could take to KOS and tell them to ask MI5 for your father's release.” She sipped her tea. “Do you know where he hid it?”

“You just want this fuel sample back,” Rich said.

Magda nodded. “And if we can return what was stolen, then everything will be fine.”

“Will it?” Jade wondered.

“It couldn't hurt,” Rich said. “Only, we have no idea where it is.”

Magda's expression didn't change. “He never mentioned it? You didn't see him hide something?”

They both shook their heads.

“Maybe he gave you something to look after for him?” Magda suggested. “Told you it was important and not to say anything to anyone about it.”

“Nothing like that,” Rich told her. “We only met him a couple of days ago.”

“Ah yes,” Magda said. “Your mother's death. I am sorry.”

Jade looked away. Rich took her hand, holding it below the level of the table, so that the woman would not see. Jade took a deep breath and turned back to face the woman. “I think you should go now,” she told her.

“I am sorry,” Magda said again. “But if you think of anything, anything at all, call me.” She handed Rich a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “That is my mobile number. I want to help you, but…” she shrugged. “No pressure, OK?”

Jade nodded. “OK.”

Rich turned back to face Magda. “Thank you,” he said.

Magda met his gaze. “I lost my mother too, when I was young. Perhaps no older than you. I know how it feels – how you must feel. I really am very sorry. I really do want to help.”

“Thanks,” Rich said quietly.

Jade said nothing, but tears were welling up in her eyes.

Magda nodded, smiled and walked out of the café. She did not look back.

“You believe her?” Jade asked as soon as the woman was gone. She wiped her sleeve across her eyes.

“I think so,” Rich said. “Why would she lie?”

“She wants this fuel sample stuff.”

“At least she isn't shooting at us. Like she said – no pressure.”

“I suppose,” Jade conceded.

“And if we find it, or work out where it is, then this sample – it might get Dad back.”

“If we want him back,” Jade said quietly. “An industrial spy – what sort of dad is that?”

“We won't know if we don't find him,” Rich pointed out. “Keep her mobile number just in case.”

Jade frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Hang on…”

“What?”

“Dad's mobile.”

“You think we can call him up and ask him where he is?”

“Don't be daft. He hasn't got it. I hid it. With his cigarettes, remember.”

“Oh, yeah. So?”

“So it'll have contact numbers in it. People we can talk to – get help from.”

“Maybe,” Rich said. “Let's have a look.”

Jade sighed. “I haven't got it with me.”

“Back at the flat?”

She nodded. “If those men have gone…”