‘Then you should sort of realise how dangerous your life could become if you get too close to him.’
‘He promised me protection, actually,’ said Shepherd. ‘The way I remember the conversation, if I got caught in a compromising position his president calls my prime minister and everything’s hunky-dory.’
‘You’d be surprised to learn how many men in British prisons claim that a smooth-talking American with tassels on his shoes told them they were committing murder in the name of national security and that at any moment a phone call from the Prime Minister’s office would secure their release and a medal to boot. Conspiracy theories abound inside. Nobody listens to them. So if he’s promised you a get-out-of-jail-free card, I can assure you it’s not worth whatever it’s printed on. So, what was the Dubai trip about?’
‘Charlie, I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles that I wasn’t going to Dubai for Yokely. He offered me a job but I turned him down.’
‘So it was a coincidence that, shortly after meeting him at the Special Forces Club, you give me some cock- and-bull story about moving house and get on a plane to the Middle East?’
‘I am moving house,’ said Shepherd, defensively.
‘You’ve been gazumped, the sale has practically fallen through,’ said Button. Shepherd opened his mouth to speak but she pointed a warning finger at him. ‘And don’t ask me how I know. It’s my job to know what my operatives are up to. Hargrove might have kept you on a long leash but SOCA is a different set-up. If you so much as fart in the bath, I know about it.’
‘I was just going to say it was a reverse gazumping. My buyer cut his offer. Anyway, it’s all been sorted now and the sale’s gone through. But I guess that’s not the point, is it?’
‘No, it’s not. The point is, how many lies are you going to tell me, Spider?’
Shepherd said nothing.
‘And I need you to explain why you jeopardised an ongoing operation.’
Shepherd opened his mouth to speak, but he could see that Button was in no mood to listen so he closed it again.
‘Did you think that SO13 wouldn’t have the Birmingham mob under surveillance? And did you seriously believe when you put the operation on hold that they wouldn’t immediately call me up to find out what the hell was going on? Ali wanted explosives, and you put him on hold.’ She folded her arms.
‘Charlie…’
‘What? Charlie what?’
‘It’s complicated,’ he said.
‘Quadratic equations are complicated. What you did isn’t complicated. I know exactly what you did because a very angry SO13 played me the recording of your chat with Ali. And my former colleagues in Five were more than happy to track your mobile to Dubai. So I know what you did and I know where you were when you did it. What I don’t know is why you’ve thrown away your career.’ She unfolded her arms and pointed a finger at him. ‘You could go to prison for what you did, Spider. You aided and abetted terrorists. What was I supposed to tell SO13?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Well, “I’m sorry” doesn’t cut it,’ said Button. ‘Leaving aside the stupidity and illegality of what you did, have you any idea of the position you’ve put me in? All the established law-enforcement organisations are hell-bent on proving that SOCA is unnecessary because they want to show how indispensable they are. You’ve just handed my head to them on a plate. I’ve hired a maverick who cuts deals with terrorists. Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I see about transferring you to another unit?’
Shepherd could see that Button wasn’t bluffing. She looked at him levelly as she waited for him to speak. She wasn’t playing at giving him the silent treatment: she was giving him the chance to make a choice. He could tell her the truth, or he could lie to her. Shepherd had no doubt that he could look her in the eye and lie. It was what he did for a living. He pretended to be someone he wasn’t, he lied and cheated to get close to people he would ultimately betray, and generally he did it with a clear conscience. Lying was a means to an end, a way of putting bad men behind bars, of achieving justice when conventional policing methods had failed. Lying wasn’t exactly second nature to Shepherd, but he could do it well. Shepherd didn’t believe that Button knew the reason for his trip to Dubai. If she did, she’d have confronted him with it. She was giving him the chance to come clean about what he was doing and why. He could tell her the truth and take the consequences, or he could lie. Either way, his relationship with Charlotte Button would never be the same again.
Button sat quietly, waiting for him to speak. Shepherd had no way of knowing if she had any idea of the struggle he was going through. He wondered if he could trust her. She was a former spook, and she had already made clear that her ultimate aim was to go back to MI5. Shepherd trusted the Major because they’d served together in the SAS. He had trusted Sam Hargrove because Hargrove was a career cop who’d proved his loyalty on numerous occasions. Shepherd wanted to trust Button, but they had virtually no history together. He’d worked for her for less than six months.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If he told her the real reason he was in Dubai, he risked blowing the operation. Geordie would die in the basement, his throat ripped open as demented insurgents swore loyalty to their God. Shepherd couldn’t allow that to happen. But if he lied to Button, she would find out. And then his career would be over. More than that, if she turned him in there was a good chance he’d end up in prison for what he’d done already. He’d kidnapped, threatened, abused and come close to torturing two men. Basharat and Fariq. Two innocent men. He looked deep into her eyes and wondered if he could trust her. If he dared to trust her.
Major Allan Gannon looked up at the arrivals display and frowned. The Emirates flight had landed thirty minutes earlier and Shepherd had no reason to be travelling with luggage.
‘Sometimes there’s a stack of VIPs going through,’ said Muller. ‘Anyone related to the royal family gets special treatment, and most businessmen with any clout can get met airside.’
‘I hope that’s all it is,’ said Gannon. With Halim meeting Shepherd off the plane immigration would be a formality, but Shepherd was still bringing in electronic equipment that might attract attention if it was noticed by Customs.
Passengers continued to walk into the arrivals area. There were haughty Saudis in gleaming white dishdasha s, and red and white checked ghutra s, followed by their womenfolk, draped from head to foot in black; Western businessmen with wheeled luggage, gold frequent-flyer tags and laptop computer cases; dark-skinned labourers in cheap clothes with plastic suitcases held together by string and insulation tape; British tourists already complaining about the heat.
‘There he is,’ said Muller, but Gannon had already spotted Shepherd walking out of the immigration area, Halim at his side. He waved to him, and Shepherd strode towards them carrying a black holdall, Halim hurrying to keep up. Gannon realised that a woman in her late thirties with dark chestnut hair and brown eyes was walking a few feet behind him, matching his brisk pace. Her brow was furrowed and her lips formed a thin, tight line. She had no luggage, just a small leather bag on a strap over one shoulder. In her left hand she carried a fawn raincoat. She was looking in their direction and it was only when she locked eyes with Gannon that he realised who she was. He cursed under his breath.
‘Who is she?’ asked Muller.
‘A ball-breaker,’ said Gannon. ‘That sound you just heard was the shit hitting the fan.’
‘I’m only a stupid American. You’ll have to spell it out for me,’ said Muller.
‘Charlotte Button,’ said Gannon. ‘Spider’s boss.’
‘Ah,’ said Muller. ‘I might just leave you to it.’
‘I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that, John,’ said Gannon. ‘The fact that she’s here means that she probably knows all she needs to know. She used to work for MI5, but now she heads up SOCA’s undercover unit.’
‘Again, I’m just the stupid Yank here. You don’t mean soccer, the game, I take it?’
‘Sorry, John. The bloody initials become second nature after a while.’ He spelled out the letters. ‘Stands for the Serious Organised Crime Agency. Effectively it’s a British FBI. They target drug traffickers, international fraudsters, the big criminals that local forces can’t touch. Spider works for SOCA’s undercover unit, and Charlotte Button there is his boss.’
‘Nice legs,’ said Muller, approvingly.
‘You could try flattery, but from what I’ve heard it won’t get you anywhere,’ said Gannon.
He shook Shepherd’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder as he welcomed him back to Dubai. Shepherd had time to whisper, ‘She knows everything,’ before Button joined them. She kept her hands at her sides and made no move to greet Gannon or Muller. She ignored the American and spoke directly to Gannon. ‘We need to talk,’ she
