Caleb clattered into the night behind him. “Fuckin’ A,” he crowed. “We’re out.”

  “Don’t count your chooks yet.” Jonathan spun around and pushed the door closed again. “We need to take cover, then work our way around to the front gate. If we’re lucky, the fire service will turn up and the gates will open to let them in.”

  Some phone reception would be good too. First, they had to hide. The carpark was empty, but some eager landscape artist had thought to plant a thick line of shrubs along the edge, right out of the lighting zone, too. Perfect, as long as they stayed close to it. They darted to the hedge line, and when they melted into the shadows, Jonathan took a moment to check his phone.

  “I’ve got signal,” he whispered. “Texting Emma now.” It was one in the morning, but he doubted she’d have gone to bed.

  Jonathan: We need a pickup from the hot zone

  She replied almost immediately.

  Emma: We’ll leave now. You both ok?

  Jonathan: All good but need alt exit. Approach and await instructions

  “They should be here in ten to fifteen minutes,” he told Caleb. “We need to get to the main entrance.”

  “Look.” Caleb pointed to blue flashing lights approaching. “And I hear sirens. They’re playing our tune.”

  The lights were a good indicator of the direction to take. Thank God for the tight-fisted bean counter who decided keeping the hedges trimmed was an unnecessary expense now that the site was unused. There was plenty of cover as they worked their way around to the front.

  The main entrance was in sight, with barriers up and gates open. A police car swept through, followed by an ambulance and two fire engines in swift succession. Jonathan hoped the paramedics were just a precaution. It’d be bad if someone got hurt as a result of the fire. There was no time to dwell on that. Another fire engine approached, along with two unmarked cars. Security, most likely. Or IG-6 agents.

  The main carpark was soon filled with vehicles and people milling around. Not only that, but the locals were also peering through the fence and gathering around the gates. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen here in ages.

  “Time to mingle,” Jonathan said in a low voice. “Face coverings off.”

  It was easy to blend in with the mass of officials on the carpark. Jonathan strode with Caleb at his side, mimicking the confidence of a frustrated agent at having a situation outside of his control. It wasn’t difficult.

  There was the gate. Just a few metres away.

  A security guard talking into his radio wasn’t paying them attention and almost collided with Caleb.

  The guy looked up, startled. “Sorry. Have you seen Jackson?”

  Without missing a beat, Jonathan pointed toward reception. “Over there.”

  The guy hurried off, and Jonathan continued to the gate. The locals were gathered around the perimeter, and more than a few had phones out and were recording the scene. That could prove to be a problem.

  He raised his arms and shouted. “Anyone taking unauthorised footage is liable to prosecution. Do you want that? No? Put your god-damned phones away before I confiscate them.”

  It worked. Phones and cameras were lowered.

  Jonathan huffed an audible sigh. “Let’s check the perimeter,” he said in an overly loud voice to Caleb. “Security coming through,” he hollered, and the crowd parted.

  They marched unimpeded to the road, and then turned to walk along the wire fencing, as though patrolling like good security guards.

  “That was fuckin’ awesome,” muttered Caleb when they were alone. “I could learn some tricks from you.”

  “Really? You’re the guy who busted out of Rimutaka Prison and evaded a country-wide police search. You’ve never spoken about that. How did you do it?”

  Caleb gave him the side-eye. “That’s a story for another day. Where are we meeting Em?”

  “I’ll check.” Jonathan tapped into his phone.

  Jonathan: We’re out. Where are you?

  Emma: Approaching school.

  Jonathan: Pull over and wait. Flash your lights twice.

  A hundred metres away, a dark-coloured car stopped at the side of the road, and the headlights flashed twice.

  “Here’s our ride,” said Jonathan. “Remember, we’re on patrol.” There was the temptation to run to the car, but breaking their cover story this late in the game would be a novice move.

  A couple of minutes later, they climbed into the back of the rental car, and Emma twisted around from the driver’s seat to look at them. “I’m so glad to see you,” she said.

  “Likewise. Take us out nice and slow. We’ll do the same as earlier and carry on this road, rather than turning around. It’d be a good idea to swap cars tomorrow, though. Just in case.”

  Emma eased out onto the road, careful to give way to yet another police car.

  Jonathan sat back in his seat. Fuck, but that was close. His heart was racing.

  “Did the network diversion help?” Aiden’s voice was cool and calm from the front passenger seat.

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” replied Caleb. “It kept the heat off for almost half an hour.”

  “Did you find him?” Emma sounded way less composed. “Please tell me you found Mark.”

  “We might have. We need to look at the data I pulled.” Caleb checked his phone. “Hang on. We might not need to, after all.”

  Jonathan gazed at him. “What do you mean?”

  “His tracker was just activated. It’s like four miles away.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “We’re four miles from the Doughnut,” said Aiden. “Can you pinpoint the source of the signal?”

  “On it.” Caleb dug into his backpack and dragged out his laptop. “I guess that clears up the Llandarcy Green question.”

  “Wait—what? Llandarcy Green?” With a grunt, Aiden shifted to face the back seats. “Where did you see that?”

  Caleb logged into his software. “I found a transfer record for Mark’s ID number, going to Llandarcy Green. You said you’d translate any code names when we got back. It’s the Doughnut, right?”

  “No. It’s very definitely not.”

  “Gimme a minute.” Caleb tapped his keyboard and stared at the screen. “Yeah, no doubt. The tracker is bang in the middle of the GCHQ complex. How the fuck do we break him out of there?”

  “We don’t,” said Aiden. “He won’t be there.”

  “What do you mean?” Jonathan asked the question on everyone’s lips.

  “He’s been missing… What? Four days? And his tracker activates now, an hour after you hacked into his transfer record? That’s a big coincidence, and I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “I didn’t leave any traces,” said Caleb. “I never do.”

  Aiden made a frustrated noise. “Never mind who did it. Someone was seen hacking the database. That will have sent up enough of an alert to make someone worried. Let’s say you’re the person who decided to remove James—or Mark, or whatever the fuck you want to call him—from the playing field. You set an elaborate cover story that he died, and hope to convince his friends, but next thing, there’s a security breach and confidential transfer records are hacked into. What better way to divert said friends, than by setting off his tracker?”

  “Sending us in the wrong direction.” Jonathan had to admit it made sense. Another thought jostled for attention, but it slipped away before he could focus on it.

  “How can we believe you?” Caleb asked. “How do we know you didn’t orchestrate this whole scenario and send us into Oakley? Maybe we were supposed to be captured while we were there, but we managed to get away? And FYI? There was a fucking train in that supposedly disused railway tunnel. We were nearly squashed like bugs on a summer windscreen. Thanks a million for that intel.”

  “Whoa.” Jonathan held up a hand. “Take a breath.”

  “Take a breath yourself, dude. That’s twice this week I’ve nearly met my maker in a fucking tunnel. If I never go in one again, it’ll be too soon.”

  That’s why Caleb was quietly freaking out earlier. Jonathan had been so focused on the details of the op, he forgot about the dungeon where Caleb and Andi barely survived. Where Griff wasn’t so lucky. It felt like a million years ago. It was just a few days.

  Aiden’s face flashed in and out of shadow as they drove along. “If I wanted to set you up, I’d let you walk into the Doughnut. I’m trying to stop you. I want to see the data you pulled. To check the details.”

  “Is it possible that Mark was transferred to Llandarcy Green two days ago, and then moved to Cheltenham?” asked Jonathan. “And where the fuck is Llandarcy Green, anyway?”

  “It’s possible but unlikely, which is why I want to check your data. Like I said, the timing of the tracker’s activation is suspect. Llandarcy Green is in Cheshire. It’s the code name for the NOC, the Northern Operations Centre.”

  “Seriously?” said Emma. “We were in Cheshire this morning. Or yesterday. Whichever. Jeez, I’m tired.”

  Jonathan wanted her to concentrate on the road. “We need to rest before we go anywhere or make any decisions, agreed? As you’ve booked two twin rooms in the hotel, we can share them and catch some sleep. We’ve done well tonight, but we need to be on our game. Emma, do you want to swap places, and I’ll drive us back into town?”

  She huffed a sigh. “I’m good, thanks, and we’re nearly there, anyway.”

  “Okay. You’re a trouper, coming out for us. Thanks for that.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Em,” said Caleb. He closed the lid of his laptop. “Sorry I blew up at you, Aiden. It’s been a fucked-up week.”

  They were quiet for the rest of the short journey, apart from figuring out sleeping arrangements. Jonathan would bunk in with Aiden, while Caleb would share Emma’s room. They’d resume the discussion in the morning.

  Aiden wasn’t very chatty, which Jonathan appreciated. By the look of it, the guy was in some pain. When asked, he explained that he’d fractured his kneecap in an op at the start of the year and the initial work done hadn’t been enough. This current round of surgery involved removing bone fragments. If that didn’t work, the next step would be inserting pins and a metal plate or fitting an artificial joint.

  Jonathan winced. Either of those options would likely signal the end of an active career. While he wasn’t convinced he wanted to stay with the SIA, he wanted to make the choice himself, not have it decided on a medical issue.

  In the morning, Caleb and Emma joined them in Aiden’s room, and they all devoured a large breakfast, courtesy of room service. As they sat back with freshly poured coffee, Jonathan opened the conversation.

  “Caleb, will you please share the data you retrieved with Aiden, so we can figure out what our options are?”

  “Yup.” Caleb flicked open his laptop and took a seat next to Aiden. “I uploaded all the data to here. Mark’s ID number shows a transfer to Llandarcy Green/P, on Monday.”

  Aiden gazed at the screen. “No outgoing transfer from there?”

  “Nothing. I used your number as a control, and your last transfer was to Harrington Lake.”

  “That’s the name of the private hospital. I should go back today, for a physio session, but after that I can discharge myself.” He tapped the keyboard. “You searched for GoldRush, too? What did you find?”

  Caleb grunted. “Sweet FA. But then, just before I got booted out, I realised why. It’d have a code name, right? You spies love your funky codes.”

  “It probably does,” said Aiden. “We’d need another network session to dig into that.”

  “Not going back to Oakley. Just saying.”

  “I guessed that. Any IG-6 site would do. It’s just a matter of gaining access.” Aiden was matter of fact.

  “Could you go back to work?” Caleb asked. “And then log in and search?”

  “Not easily. My access was suspended when I went on sick leave. I could ask a colleague, but the more people who know, the greater the risk of a leak. However”—he paused, a thoughtful look on his face—“one of my associates did a secondment at the NOC. I can ask him if there are any detention facilities there, or if it’s just offices.”

  Caleb clicked on some keys. “Whereabouts in Cheshire?”

  “Altrincham? No, Knutsford. Spelled with a K. The site has a fancy local name, but I don’t remember it. I’ve never been there.”

  “Yeah, when you run browser searches for Northern Operations Centre, there’s nothing. The algorithms are most likely blocked. Let me try the dark web.” He sat back, laptop on his knees, and gazed at the screen. A few minutes later, he looked up. “Is it Radbury Hall?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Aiden scrunched his eyes. “I think it was a country estate, back in the day, but was then bought out and is now used as a centre of operations.”

  “I’ve got it on Google Earth,” said Caleb. He spun the laptop around, to show them. Several large buildings formed a U-shape around a carpark, with one massive flat-roofed construction set off to the side. The Street View function showed a line of huge air-con units running along the back wall.

  “How big is that building?” Emma asked.

  Caleb peered at the screen. “There’s a tennis court further over, so based on that, this baby is around the size of twenty-four tennis courts inside. Let me guess. That’s the heart of the ops centre?”

  Aiden looked amused. “Very likely.”

  “Hmm,” said Caleb. “The usual browsers show it as belonging to a Swedish IT company, GDCI—Global Data Collection Intelligence. They claim to provide backend processing for banking and finance utilities. All boring enough to ensure nobody looks closer, right? I’m struggling to find anything more.”

  “Anything about the history?” Aiden asked.

  “The main hall was built by the Radbury family just prior to the Great War. They were big in textiles and went on to supply uniforms for the English army. The two sons and heirs were killed in battle, and when the founder died, his widow moved out. She sold it to Barclays Bank in the thirties, and they sold it to GDCI in the seventies. Looks like the site has retained the manor house and the rose garden, and built the ops centre around it.”

  Aiden frowned some more. “There’s something about the manor house that rings a bell. Damn. I can’t remember. I’m going to check with my colleague Summerton. I can call him from here.”

  He picked up his phone and dialled a number. “Morning,” he said. “I want to pick your brains. Is this a good time?” He paused, then continued. “You did a secondment at Radbury Hall. What’s it like, to work there? I’m thinking of a short-term transfer until I can go back on active duty.”

  He listened attentively, said uh huh a couple of times, and then gave a short laugh. “Yeah, that might be useful if my knee is still fucked. Thanks. Have a good day.”

  Aiden pursed his lips. “I really don’t like lying to my trusted colleagues, and I’d be pissed off if the situation was reversed, but he didn’t seem suspicious. Anyway. The manor house at Radbury Hall was converted to a private psychiatric clinic. It’s where IG-6 sends agents for mental conditioning training. That’s what the P after the name signifies. Llandarcy Green-slash-P.”

  “A psych ward?” It sounded bizarre to Jonathan.

  “Not really. More of an assessment centre for agents, before they get retrained. Anyway, the point is the manor house is basically a secure medical centre.”

  “And you think this is where Mark is being held?” Emma hugged a cushion to her chest. Her eyes were huge and reflected the hope in her voice.

  Aiden glanced at Jonathan. “To be realistic, there are two possibilities.”

  Emma made a go-on gesture with her finger.

  Aiden sighed. “One possibility is that Mark is being held against his will, that the GoldRush cyber-attack will be blamed on him, and that he’ll be court-martialled and locked up indefinitely.”

  She nodded, her face pale. “And the other?”

  “The other,” Aiden said, “is that he was offered a promotion. A more senior role but with the proviso that he decoupled himself from his previous connections. For all we know, he may be voluntarily based at the NOC for training, before taking up a plum overseas position.”

  “No.” Emma’s voice shook. “I don’t believe that. I won’t. I know that’s what he did before he met me, but it’s not who he is now.”

  “I don’t want to believe it either,” said Aiden, “especially since he told Caleb he was worried about the first option. I’m trained to think logically, though. And I’d rather have all the possibilities before me, than just the one I like the best.”

  Emma flinched. “You said Mark is your friend. If the situation was reversed, how hard would he push, to find out the truth about you?”

  “He’d do what I’m about to.”

  “Which is?”

  Aiden gave her a crooked smile. “We’re going to break into Radbury Hall, of course.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Time for Jonathan to take control of the planning. “We need to be clear on the objectives. We were lucky at Oakley but only just made it out. This time, we’re as prepared as we can be.”

  “Roger that,” muttered Caleb.

  “We have two objectives on the table,” Jonathan continued. “The primary is to locate Mark and verify his position, and the secondary is to get him out. We also need to define our exit strategy. Agreed?” The others nodded. “Okay. Let’s break these down, to see how we do them. Ideas?”

  His laptop was open, so he typed out the main objectives, ready to start fleshing out the plan. Planning was good. It made him feel safer.

  “I have a way to get myself into the NOC medical facility,” said Aiden. “I’ll need Summerton’s help, but it’s doable. I ask him to create a transfer record for me, for psych evaluation, to get me in. My recent surgery is visible enough, that I can pretend to be less mobile than I really am. Once there, I can physically search for Mark. It would be good if I had a nurse accompany me, and that would add weight to the mobility issue.” He looked at Emma. “How would you feel about that?”