Caleb nodded. “If you want to get out of here, go. Okay?” He checked the time. “We’ll do our stand-up in a few minutes. I need caffeine first, though. Devin, would you go grab them, please? Get drinks for everyone. My shout.”

  “Gotcha,” his assistant replied.

  While Caleb stashed his jacket and checked his email, Devin fetched coffees. Shortly after, they gathered around the giant smartboard in the main office.

  “Right.” Caleb picked up a stylus. “We officially start the Red Team exercise today. As you know, we’re well ahead of the curve. I want to recap where we got up to on Friday, and agree who’s doing what this week.”

  When did he become so polished at speaking to a group? Managing a team? Wonders never ceased. “Also,” he continued, “I have some ideas about additional tests we can run. Stuff they might not be expecting.”

  He ran through the headlines of the work they’d already done. The email phishing and spoofing, the logins they’d collected, and the information they’d gathered.

  “We know more about our target’s network than they imagine. Now we take things a step further. Remember how easy it was for Jonathan and Andi to tailgate employees into the building? We’re doing that again, only this time, we’re staying on site.” He looked around his team. There were nods of acknowledgement.

  “Andi, how do you feel about going back on site? With either Nat or Toby? I’m thinking two peeps that look like part of the IT team. I want you to get in, find yourselves empty desks on the IT floor, plug your laptops into the network, and see how far you get. We have a mass of logins and passwords to play with. You’ve already got mock-up security badges that would fool anyone from a distance.”

  “I’m up for that,” said Andi. “I’ve been on the IT floor and identified myself as one of them, so there shouldn’t be an issue if anyone recognises me.”

  “What happens if someone challenges us?” Nat asked.

  “That’s what we want to happen,” said Caleb. “They should, but we’re going to see how long it takes. Track your GPS locations, take photos from wherever you end up, and capture screenshots of everything—preferably pictures of the compromised network with their office visible in the background.”

  Jonathan grinned. “Genius. Should we warn them?”

  “As if. They should be on their guard and expecting trouble this week, anyway. Let’s see if they are.”

  They worked through the actions on Caleb’s list, confirmed which servers they were openly targeting for penetration testing, and wrapped up with some outstanding tasks from last week.

  It was weird how they slipped back into work-mode so easily, as if the events of the weekend didn’t happen. Caleb shook himself, to dislodge the memories, and focused on the whiteboard.

  “One last thing,” he said. “Jonathan and I might be going out of the country later this week. It’s not ideal, but the exercise will continue as long as possible. We’ll figure out the plan and let you know. I’m reluctant to bring in outsiders, so we’ll do whatever we can remotely, but it might be a case of one of you stepping up to be team leader in our absence.”

  They were partway through the options for the penetration testing, when Jonathan’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and frowned. “Sorry, but I need to take this.” With the phone pressed to his ear, he claimed Caleb’s office and closed the door behind him.

  Moments later, he came out again. “We need to talk,” he said. “We’ll come back to this later.”

  Anxiety prickled down Caleb’s spine. “Sure,” he said, putting down the stylus. “My office?”

  Jonathan nodded. As soon as they were enclosed, he said, “You might want to sit down for this.”

  Fuck. What happened now? “I’m good,” he said. “Spit it out.” Was this something to do with the cops? Was Caleb being fitted up for another crime? Or something to do with Emma. A problem with her flight? God, no. “Is it Em?”

  Jonathan winced. “No. Emma’s fine. It’s Mark. He’s dead.”

  What? Did Caleb hear that right? He was aware his mouth hung open, and he closed it. “Mark’s dead?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told by my director.” Jonathan’s face was pale. He wiped a hand across his forehead. “I’m struggling to wrap my head around this, to be honest.”

  Caleb didn’t recall moving to his chair, but his ass dropped into it with a thud. “Dead,” he repeated. “How? And fuck, what about Em? Has she been told? She’s probably still in the air. Jesus.”

  Jonathan sat down. He gripped his cell phone tight, his knuckles showing white. “All I know is that his death has been reported up to my director, with a request for any interested parties to be informed. He was supposed to be coming here on a secondment from IG-6, otherwise we wouldn’t have been told at all.”

  “How?” Caleb asked again.

  “I don’t know. I’m going to find out.” Jonathan stared at the ceiling. “We have to tell Emma.”

  “Not over the phone. Not on Facetime or anything. You have to tell her in person.” Caleb paused. “I have to do it.”

  Jonathan nodded. “I think this resolves the issue of what we tell your parole officer. You’re going to a funeral.”

  Caleb needed something practical to do. “I’ll schedule an urgent meeting with her. Can you join us?”

  “I’ll make sure to. It doesn’t feel real, you know?”

  Caleb felt the same when he was told about Joss dying. He knew how it felt to lose a twin. Was losing a partner worse? Was there a sliding scale of grief? He shook the thoughts away. “Is there any way Em can find out before we get there?”

  “I don’t think so. Mark was careful to keep her name out of his records.”

  “Have you seen his records?”

  Jonathan waved one hand. “Partly. Not supposed to, obviously. But yeah, when I was assigned to be his liaison, I wanted to check him out. As you do.”

  “You know his real name, then? And his family? Next of kin stuff?”

  “Yes to his name, but not the family stuff. I can find out, though. I need the details of the funeral.” He twisted his mouth and looked away. “God damn. I was not expecting this.” He kicked out at Caleb’s desk. It shook under the blow.

  Caleb gazed at him. “Feel better for that?”

  The look Jonathan gave him was savage. “Not in the slightest.” He leapt to his feet and stalked the three steps to the window.

  It was somehow comforting that Jonathan was visibly rattled. It was the first time Caleb had seen him anything but in control. “I’ll tell Sandra and Geoff. They need to be ready to support Emma when she finds out.”

  Jonathan said nothing. He stood at the window, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, his back to Caleb.

  First Kaali, then Griff, and now Mark. Three deaths in twenty-four hours. Life dealt a shitty hand at times.

  To Caleb’s surprise, his parole officer agreed to come to the office, to meet him and Jonathan. She was nearby when Caleb called, and had a gap in her schedule. She’d be here within the hour.

  Caleb couldn’t think about that meeting now. He had to break the news to Sandra and Geoff, and that wasn’t going to be easy. Leaving Jonathan to update the team, most of whom knew Mark and had worked with him, he dialled Sandra’s number. Christ. How did he tell her? She and Geoff liked Mark and were looking forward to welcoming him to their family when he married Emma.

  “Hey, you.” Sandra’s breezy voice was friendly as usual. “Have you heard from my daughter yet?”

  “Um… no. That’s not why I’m calling. Is Geoff there? I want to speak to both of you.”

  “No probs. He’s in the store room. I’ll walk down to find him.”

  The sound of light footsteps drifted down the line. Emma’s parents ran a mail-order business from home, selling boardgames and accessories. They were good people, and this was going to hurt them.

  Caleb’s stomach churned. He really didn’t want to do this.

  “Putting you on speaker,” said Sandra. “Also, do you need any more meals for your freezer yet? You don’t want to be shopping and cooking, while your ribs are bad. I can drop some off tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” he said automatically. What to say next? There was no nice way to ease into this conversation. “I… uh… need to talk to you.” The words he needed jammed in his throat.

  “What’s up?” Geoff asked. He sounded curious, rather than concerned.

  “It’s Mark,” Caleb blurted. “It’s bad news.”

  Silence greeted him.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know the details yet, and I don’t think Emma knows at all. Not at the moment. And you need to be ready for her to call, because she’s going to need you.”

  “Wait.” Sandra sounded puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s gone.” Caleb couldn’t say it.

  “Back to England? That’s why Em’s on her way there.”

  “No.” Caleb gritted his teeth. “He’s dead.”

  “What?” Emma’s parents spoke together.

  “Are you sure?” Geoff asked. “How did it happen? And when?”

  “I don’t know. Jonathan and I are going to fly out as soon as we can, to break the news to her in person. I thought I should tell you.”

  “My God,” said Sandra on a gasp. “That’s awful. Poor Mark. Was it an accident? It must have been.”

  Caleb scratched his jaw. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, and it’d reached the itchy stage. He’d rather think about his scruffy facial hair than the woman crying softly on the phone to him.

  “I’ll let you know when I have more information. And if Emma calls, I don’t think you should tell her. I don’t want her to hear this over the phone.”

  “It’s not going to be easy, talking to her when we know this.” Geoff sounded pissed. “How are we supposed to keep this a secret? How soon are you going to get there?”

  Geoff was right. Caleb should have waited, instead of rushing to call them. Why did he? Maybe because he thought of them as adopted parents, and he needed someone to share his upset? He could rationalise it later. “I don’t know that, either. I’m sorry. I don’t know a damn thing.”

  Caleb remembered to check that Sandra would look after Minerva while he was away, assuming the parole officer agreed to his travel. Min would be fine at Sandra and Geoff’s house, and got on with their two cats. It was a better option than getting someone in to feed her. His pet liked human company.

  To his relief, the parole officer agreed to the trip overseas. Did it help that Jonathan was part of the interview? Maybe. After that, everything fell into place with dizzying speed. Jonathan’s team arranged flights to the UK, along with the other details needed. Local currency. Ensuring their phones would continue to work without interruption. Chargers with international fittings. They were due to leave Wellington at six this evening, flying to Auckland for an international connection. The timing was good. They’d be one day behind Emma, and because of their route, they’d land some seventeen hours after her.

  Caleb had a bazillion things to do, including packing and transporting Minerva to Sandra and Geoff’s house. He called Sandra again, and she agreed to come fetch the cat before he left. That helped.

  “I need to get back to my office,” said Jonathan. He looked tired. “I wanted to finish the interviews with Erich Morgen, but that’s not gonna happen now. I’ll meet you at the airport.”

  Tuesday 9 April (UK-time)

  Chapter Four

  The furthest Caleb had travelled before was to Melbourne. In other circumstances, he might have been excited about the prospect of flying halfway around the world, but right now, he just wanted to sleep. To block out the bad news as best he could.

  He eased into the window seat for the journey from Auckland. Jonathan had managed to get them extra leg room, but it was still cramped, and would be uncomfortable as hell for an extended period of time. No matter. Caleb would knock himself out with a dose of painkillers and then sleep.

  Jonathan sat beside him, tapping away at the laptop open on his knee. It looked like work stuff, from the glance Caleb gave it. Surveillance reports and spreadsheets of data. Caleb bundled up his leather jacket for a pillow, accepted a blanket from the steward, and slept.

  His dreams were twisted and filled with danger, and he awoke with a jolt, a scream on his lips. Thank all the Gods, he didn’t actually make a noise. Jonathan worked on at his side, and Caleb settled down into another dream frenzy.

  The journey was long and tedious, and he was fed up of being confined in a small seat, but what option did he have? Business Class was too expensive to consider.

  There were several stops along the way, but Caleb paid little attention. One country looked much like any other, when all he saw was a set of airport corridors. When he was awake, he stared out of the window at the ocean below, and thought about Emma. How must she be feeling? What could Caleb do to support her? He’d seen too much death in the last few days.

  Mark would be missed, and not just as Emma’s partner. The guy had been a giant pain in Caleb’s ass when they first met, but Caleb had come to appreciate him. To like him as a friend, as someone to be trusted.

  When Jonathan nudged him awake with the news that they were on approach to Heathrow, London, Caleb felt like shit warmed up. He ached all over, even after taking painkillers. His mouth was dry, and he was sure he stunk of stale sweat. He needed a shower. A clean T-shirt would also be good. He had to make do with brushing his teeth and applying some deodorant from his carry-on bag. It was morning. He’d be able to get a coffee soon, and something to eat as well. Plane food was better than prison food, but not by much.

  Of course, he also had to break the news to Emma when they landed. Shit. How was he going to do this? His mind flashed back to Andi in the hospital. She told him his people skills needed work, and she was right, but there was no soft way to tell Em. That was assuming she was here. What if something had happened to her, too? He wouldn’t be able to relax until he saw her and knew she was okay.

  Jonathan looked tired as well, and they disembarked together, with Caleb following him off the plane and along another set of corridors. He’d be glad to get outside.

  His phone pinged as he trudged along, and he tugged it from his bag. It would be Emma, checking where they were.

  He was wrong. It was a text from Delilah.

  Delilah: Hey. I’m heading up to Auckland tomorrow for a story. Wanna meet up for coffee when I get back?

  Was she going to meet the lawyer he told her about? He’d ask her later.

  Caleb: I’m out of town. Should be back next week.

  Delilah: Anywhere exciting?

  Nope. He wasn’t going to be drawn into making friends with Delilah.

  Caleb: Funeral of a friend.

  Her reply was swift.

  Delilah: I’m sorry. Let me know when you’re back. Take care.

  Jonathan glanced at him. “Are you texting Emma? I told her our arrival time, and she said she’d meet us here at the Hertz car-rental stand.”

  “Thanks for that.” He hesitated. “I don’t know how to tell her. It’s going to fuckin’ wreck her.”

  Jonathan twisted his mouth. “Believe me, I know. I’m glad you’re here, by the way.”

  They cleared immigration and slowly made their way through the crowded Arrivals Hall. Caleb had no previous experience of Heathrow and was not prepared for the mass of people.

  His anxiety lurked like a troll beneath the bridge, and it prickled at his skin, tightening his lungs and making him hyperaware of his rasping breaths. No. He wasn’t having a panic attack. Nu huh. Not happening.

  He never used to freak out in crowded places. Call it a gift from his days behind bars, but he had to deal with it.

  He slowed his pace and searched the sea of travellers, seeking the Hertz sign, but all he saw were electronic update boards and people.

  His cheeks were hot, his forehead breaking out in a damp rush. God damn it. He was stronger than this.

  The way his heart raced suggested that no, he was not coping.

  “Dude? Caleb?” Jonathan peered at him, concern on his face. “You okay?”

  Caleb licked dry lips. “Yeah.” Was he going to throw up? Nausea rose. “Gonna be sick,” he muttered. He needed a bathroom. The prospect of hurling on the floor was crippling.

  “Over here.” Jonathan grabbed his arm and hauled him away.

  Caleb could have been glued to the floor. He had to force his leaden legs to move, to go with Jonathan. They pushed past a knot of teenagers who stood around a pile of backpacks, hurried across a clear patch of floor, and then shoved through a white door into a bathroom. Caleb made it just in time to empty the scant contents of his stomach.

  Well, fuck. At least he avoided his shoes.

  Minutes later, he leaned on the counter with one hand, while splashing cold water on his face with the other. Jonathan stood with his back against the door, engrossed in texting on his phone.

  Caleb looked around, taking in the wide counter with a plastic-covered foam mat lying on it, and a large yellow bin. “Did we come into the baby-change room?”

  Jonathan glanced up. “It was the nearest. You good to go?”

  Caleb made a cup with his hands and scooped up water to drink. It didn’t shift the ugly taste in his mouth, but it eased his throat a little. He used the opportunity to gulp down a dose of Ibuprofen. “Yeah,” he said.

  The worst was over. As long as they didn’t walk through the mass of the crowd, he’d be fine. Hopefully.

  Caleb took care to steer them around the edges of the crowded area, and Jonathan followed. At last, he saw the car rental sign. “Over there.” He pointed.

  Jonathan nodded. “Let’s go.”

  It was two days since he’d seen Emma. In some ways, it felt like weeks. Caleb spotted her conker-coloured hair, and his heart lifted. She was here. “Over there,” he said, and they adjusted their direction.

  Emma waved to them, and Caleb raised a hand in reply. His breathing was still choppy, and his skin felt too tight, but he was walking and capable of talking.