A Foreign Country

67

Vigors and Aldrich tailed CUCKOO to a branch of Waitrose on the outskirts of town, Vigors guiding Kell towards them so that there were three sets of eyes on the Frenchman, staggered along the route. Having spent ten minutes in the store, CUCKOO found a taxi outside, just as Amelia had predicted. She had brought the Audi to a petrol station within two hundred metres of the Waitrose car park and picked up Kell as CUCKOO’s cab passed them, heading out on to the Salisbury ring-road. A minute later, Harold scooped up Vigors and Aldrich and the two vehicles followed Vincent’s taxi in parallels as far as Grateley, a small village fifteen miles east of Salisbury.

CUCKOO pulled into Grateley station shortly before eleven o’clock. He paid the driver and bought a train ticket from an automated machine. The station was deserted and Kell knew that he could not afford to risk putting one of the team on to the platform. Instead, he sent Aldrich, Vigors and Harold ahead to Andover, the next stop on the line and told Elsa, who was driving past Stonehenge, to divert to Salisbury station, in case CUCKOO doubled-back.

In the end, he boarded a London train. For eight minutes, Kell lost CUCKOO in a surveillance black hole until Vigors, whom Harold had driven to Andover at a steady 85 mph, joined the train. As he passed through Whitchurch and Overton, Vigors was able to assure Kell and Amelia, by text, that he was in visual contact with CUCKOO. Harold and Aldrich then effectively chased the train on parallel roads while Kell and Amelia remained behind in Andover. Basingstoke was the first major intersection on the London route and Kell anticipated that CUCKOO might attempt to leave the train and to switch to another service. Aldrich, arriving on the Reading platform just thirty seconds before CUCKOO’s train pulled in, was informed by Vigors that he had decided to remain on board. So Aldrich and Harold continued east towards Woking, where CUCKOO did indeed switch routes, stepping off the London service at the last moment and joining a Reading train, leaving Vigors stranded on board. His sleight of hand, however, was observed by Aldrich, who managed to catch the Reading service, albeit three carriages down, while Harold looked on from an opposite platform.

Kell had never known a more complex and operationally challenging period. The Audi was a mess of road maps, sat-navs and communications equipment. By the time CUCKOO was on his way to Reading, with Aldrich trying to find him by walking down the carriages, Vigors was out of the game and Kell effectively down to two pairs of eyes. He rang Vigors and told him to go to London and to wait at Waterloo station, on the off chance that CUCKOO would try to head into the city. If he did so, Vigors might have an opportunity to follow him out to Gatwick or Luton, or even on to a Eurostar service from St Pancras. Meanwhile, Elsa had been sent ahead to Heathrow.

In the end, the Frenchman kept things simple. At Reading, he again switched services. Aldrich had more than enough time to follow him off the train, even to wait alongside him on the platform, and to travel back towards Woking, where he called Kell to tell him that CUCKOO had boarded a RailAir bus to Heathrow. Harold was more than twenty miles away, snagged in traffic on the outskirts of Reading with one bar of power on his mobile, but Aldrich was still able to follow the bus in a cab while Kell and Amelia went ahead to the airport.

They were sitting in the car park of a Holiday Inn, at the edge of the M4, when Amelia’s mobile phone rang. The number was unknown, an echo-delay on the line as she put the call on speaker.

‘Is this Amelia Levene?’

Kell knew immediately who was calling. A Frenchwoman, fluent English with a strong American accent.

‘Who am I speaking to, please?’

‘You can call me Madeleine Brive. I met your friend, Stephen Uniacke, on a ferry to Marseille.’

Amelia locked on to Kell’s eyes. ‘I know who you are.’

The voice became both louder and clearer. ‘I want you to listen very carefully to me, Mrs Levene. As you are aware, the primary operation against your service has failed. You will never know who was behind it. You will never find the people responsible.’

Kell frowned, wondering what Valerie’s remarks revealed about her state of mind. Was she concerned that they knew her location?

‘I doubt that,’ Amelia replied.

‘You may be interested to know the whereabouts of your son.’

Kell felt a coil of blind anger and could only imagine what Amelia was faced with.

‘Mrs Levene?’

‘Please go on,’ she said.

A young couple, trailing suitcases and jet lag, walked past the Audi on their way towards the Holiday Inn.

‘You speak French, am I correct?’

‘You are correct.’

‘Then I will speak in French to you, Mrs Levene, because I want you to understand every … every nuance of what I am about to tell you.’ She switched to her native tongue. ‘This is now a private operation. François Malot is being held at a location in France. In order to secure his release, five million euros should be paid into a Turks and Caicos trust within three days. The details of the account will be sent to you in a separate way. Do I have your cooperation?’

Kell could have no bearing on the decision. He looked quickly at Amelia, sensing that she would capitulate.

‘You have my cooperation,’ she said.

‘Within the next twenty-four hours, we will send you proof that your son is alive. If I do not receive the sum of money requested by Wednesday at 1800 hours, he will be executed.’

The mobile phone began to beep. A second call was coming in. Kell looked down at the read-out and saw that Aldrich was trying to reach them.

‘Hang up,’ he mouthed, gesturing to Amelia, who had reached the same conclusion. They were at war with these people; everything was now about power and control.

‘Fine,’ she said, ‘you’ll have your money,’ and shut off the call. Amelia allowed herself only a moment’s reflection before connecting Aldrich to the car.

‘Go ahead, Danny,’ she said.

‘Terminal Five. CUCKOO just got off the bus. Must be looking to fly BA to France.’