Execution

THIRTY-NINE

‘I think I’m in love,’ Rik murmured. ‘What’s got into him all of a sudden? He’s usually on our case all the time.’

‘He’s helping, but it’s off the books.’ Harry turned to Clare. ‘You know what this means: you’re coming with us. Are you up to the trip?’

Clare tipped out the contents of the envelope and scooped up her wallet, passport, coins and other personal belongings she’d had on her the day of the shooting. ‘Fuck off, Tate.’

‘I think you said that already.’

‘Why would Katya talk to me, after what he said?’ She tipped her head towards Ballatyne’s departing back. ‘I caused her nothing but grief and lost her God knows how much credibility in her job. She probably hates my guts.’

Harry didn’t have a definite answer to that. But they had to try.

‘You haven’t been in contact with her since?’

She shook her head. ‘Like when? I’ve been too busy being busted, then sent to that shithole in Georgia and helping save your arses. It’s not like I was sitting on my hands doing nothing.’

It was a glimmer of humour. Not much, and tinged with a core of anger. But it was an improvement on anything they had seen so far. ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I didn’t think she’d want to hear from me.’

‘You might be right. But if you meant anything to her, she wouldn’t want to see you taken out by a couple of FSB hotshots, would she? The simple fact is, she won’t give Rik and me the time of day, no matter how we dress it up. But I’m betting she’ll give you a hearing, at the very least. That’s all we need.’

‘What do you hope to achieve?’

‘She might have an answer to this problem. She might not, but it’s worth a try. And it gets you out of the country for a while and away from those two shooters.’

Several moments went by, during which Rik signalled for more coffees. The waitress brought them and left them alone.

‘I don’t know how to contact her,’ Clare said at last, stirring a generous portion of sugar into her coffee. ‘I knew her mobile number once, but I still can’t remember it.’ She made a winding motion with a finger to the side of her head. ‘It’s all mixed up. Funny how I remembered your number, though.’

‘And mine?’ said Rik.

‘I never had yours. Anyway, why would I bother?’ She gave him a hard stare.

He blushed, although they all knew it wasn’t out of any romantic notion. ‘I put it in the compact. . on a slip of paper under the powder.’ He looked mortified. ‘You mean you didn’t even look? I’m hurt.’

A hint of a smile touched her mouth and hovered for a fleeting second before disappearing. ‘No. I didn’t look. Now that bloody Russian thug’s got it. He said he was going to give it to his girlfriend. Bastard.’

‘Hey, it was only cheap.’ Rik waved it away. ‘If you liked it that much I’ll get you another one.’

Now it was her turn to blush, but accompanied by a feigned look of disgust. ‘Are you kidding? It was vile.’ She dropped her spoon into her cup. ‘But I want it back. Can we go now? I need some new clothes. I feel like a bag lady.’

They were about to board their flight for Vienna at Northolt when Harry’s mobile rang. It was Ballatyne, his voice like a flat tyre. He was in the secure room again.

Harry dropped back and signalled for the other two to carry on.

‘Tell me Ferris hasn’t been letting his fingers walk where he shouldn’t.’ Ballatyne threw himself straight into the conversation without preamble. He sounded peeved and ready for a fight.

Harry was cautious. Ballatyne must know that Rik would have been accessing files somewhere; he’d even given them the nod to do so. ‘Where specifically?’

‘Specifically? Six, of course. The bowels of Vauxhall Cross. Forbidden bloody territory on pain of castration.’

A quick tug of relief. ‘In that case, no. Why?’

‘Because somebody’s been trying to access our HR records — the section housing personnel details of former operatives no longer active.’

‘You mean Clare Jardine?’ It had to be; hers was the only name in play at the moment.

‘Yes.’

‘It wasn’t Rik. You have my word on that.’

‘Good. Glad to hear it.’

‘What brought this on?’ At the exit door to the tarmac, a member of the ground crew was signalling to Harry and a couple of other latecomers that it was time to roll. Harry avoided his eye. This was too important and he doubted he would get a signal once on board the flight, which would be basic and noisy.

Ballatyne muttered something beneath his breath. ‘Ever since Bellingham and Paulton. . and some other security-related issues, new systems have been put in place across Five, Six, GCHQ and other selected agencies. Anybody trawling for information outside their remit, or attempting to use insider channels to do the same from one agency to another without the proper codes and passwords, which are changed frequently, sets off an alarm. It happens every now and then when somebody new tries to access a file without the current passes. Mostly it’s an officer or analyst searching the databases to cross-ferment files and gets careless.’

‘And this wasn’t?’

‘Not this time. He was blocked automatically first time round by the system lock-outs. Then he got creative and got into the guts of her file.’

‘And you don’t know who it was?’

‘Not yet. He or she was clever enough to use an access log-in code belonging to an officer on sick leave.’

‘That’s pretty crude.’ It indicated somebody without the specialist knowledge to by-pass the systems. . or someone brazen enough to care little about using a fellow-officer’s code.

‘Maybe. Or they might have been doing a quick and dirty one-time trawl and didn’t care for subtlety. There was a time it would have worked, but not now.’

‘How long will it take you to track them down?’ Harry didn’t know what the current levels of visual security were at MI6. They probably had CCTV on every floor, in strategic flow areas such as stairwells and general corridors, and Restricted Access points where security was at its most severe. What it might not cover were staff or officers using individual workstations.

‘If it was somebody within the building, it will be a process of elimination: who was present on that floor, who wasn’t where they should have been, who had visitor access, who had a bad annual assessment last time round.’

‘And if it’s somebody outside?’

‘Actually, that might be easier. If it’s an outsider with access through a common server, they’ll leave a trail that can’t be erased. And there are only so many points of origin they could have used.’

A whistle came from the departure door, and Harry said, ‘I’ve got to go. The flight’s leaving.’

‘OK. I’ll call later with any news.’