‘Months.’
‘So that’s how they found out about Zoe. When she tried to blackmail him, they picked up the phone call. Then when Skid McClusky went to Cleaver’s office to deliver the box, they were already watching. They were the ones who went after McClusky. And if his ex-girlfriend hadn’t turned up, they were going to torture him to death.’
Alex’s brow crinkled in concentration. ‘So what you’re saying is that the whole thing with Zoe is just incidental.’
‘Cleaver is the key,’ Ben said. ‘It all revolves around him. But I don’t think he even knows it. The question is, why were they watching him in the first place?’
There was silence as they both sat trying to puzzle it out.
‘They’re planning something,’ she said. ‘I just know it.’
‘Planning what?’
‘I wish I knew.’
‘Who’s Slater?’
She looked blank.
‘He was with Jones in the hotel. Red hair. Small build. Sharp suit. Didn’t look like a cop or an agent. He’s in charge of it. Jones answers to him.’
‘I never heard of any Slater,’ she said.
His shoulder was cramping, and he tried to make himself more comfortable against the hard wall of the cave. Agony lanced through him like a blade, and he shuddered. He was suddenly terribly weary from the mental effort of trying to work all this out.
She looked at him in concern. ‘You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you? There’s some codeine left.’
‘Save it for tomorrow,’ he muttered.
‘Let me take a look at it.’
‘I’m OK,’ he protested.
‘I’m not going to let you die on me, Ben. I need you as much as you need me.’ She reached across and started unbuttoning the bloody shirt. He resisted, then relented and leaned back as she drew the shirt off and carefully unwound the bandages. ‘You’ve done this before,’ he said faintly.
‘Three years at medical school, before I dropped out to get a taste of adventure, travel the world. Dumbest thing I ever did.’ She shone the Maglite across his chest and shoulder. ‘And you’ve been shot before,’ she added, noticing pale scars on his torso.
‘Twice before. That one’s a shrapnel injury.’
‘Quite a collection,’ she said. She inspected the wound closely. ‘I don’t think there’s any internal bleeding, Ben. But we need to get that bullet out of there. You ought to be in hospital.’
‘Out of the question,’ he murmured. But he was too weak to protest. Alex bundled a blanket under his head, and he lay back on it as she bandaged him back up, winding the gauze expertly into a tight and secure dressing. Then she helped him get his shirt back on, and draped a blanket across him. ‘We should get some sleep,’ she whispered.
He watched in the flickering firelight as she made up a bed of fern leaves and settled herself into it. After a few minutes the steady rise and fall of her body under the blanket told him she was sleeping. He lay awake for a long time, listening to the yap of the coyotes in the distance.
Sometime in the night he woke to see Alex gazing at him in the dying glow of the fire. Her head was resting on her hands, her hair draped across her face. The last of the flames flickered in her eyes. ‘You were dreaming,’ she whispered sleepily. ‘About someone you love.’
He didn’t reply.
‘Are you married?’ she murmured. ‘Is there someone waiting for you at home?’
He hesitated before answering. ‘No. There’s nobody. What about you?’
‘There was someone,’ she said. ‘Back where I live, in Virginia. His name was Frank. I guess we never had much of a chance. It ended a couple of years ago. We never saw each other – he had his veterinary practice, I was always up at HQ or out in the field somewhere. It just kind of died on us.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I suppose I gave my heart to the Agency.’
‘I did that once,’ he said. ‘Gave everything I had to a badge. Then you realise one day how little it really means.’
There was silence for a while.
‘Something Jones said about you,’ she said softly.
‘What did he say?’
‘He said you were one of the most dangerous men alive.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s men like Jones who are the dangerous ones.’
‘I saw your file.’
‘That’s my past, Alex. It’s not me.’
She raised her head up a little and brushed the hair away from her face. ‘So who are you, Ben Hope? Really?’
‘I’m still working that one out,’ he whispered. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes.
Chapter Forty-Four
Irving Slater’s first reaction, after Jones had sheepishly called him from the hotel to say that Hope had got away with Bradbury and one of the agents, had been stunned silence. That had quickly modulated into pure rage, a blistering superfury that had reduced Jones almost to tears on the phone.
But now, a couple of hours later, he’d calmed down. Not enough to be able to flop down on the giant sofa opposite the fifty-inch screen. But enough to think clearly and gain a perspective on this whole thing.
And he’d come to a decision, one that he’d resisted for months but which he now realised he’d delayed for much too long.
He picked up the phone and dialled. Waited. A voice answered.
‘It’s me,’ he said.
‘It’s late.’
‘Never mind that. Listen. Change of plan. This is getting out of hand. I’ve decided to fast-track the Stratagem.’
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. ‘Why now?’ the associate asked.
‘Something’s come up,’ Slater said. ‘Something very interesting that suits us perfectly.’ He described it.
‘They’ll all be there? Their president and the four members of the Supreme Council?’
Slater smiled. ‘All right under the same dome. And a lot of other very important people. Talk about giving them a slap in the face, huh?’
‘If we can pull it off…’
‘Call Herzog. It takes place in three days. Tell him I’ll double his price if he can make the date.’
‘You’re sure about this?’ There was a tremor in the associate’s voice. ‘It’s a big step.’
‘It’s a very big step,’ Slater agreed. ‘But this is the time. We do this now, or never. “
‘This is an important moment,’ the associate muttered. ‘I wish you wouldn’t curse like that.’
‘Don’t be so fucking pious. It’s boring.’
‘Is Richmond ready for this?’
‘He will be. I’ll make sure of that. You worry about your end. Do it now.’
Slater ended the call. With jubilation in his step he trotted across to the drinks cabinet. Yanked the bottle of Krug out of the ice bucket and poured himself a large glass. He raised the champagne in a silent toast to himself
