“Jake has enough to suggest that Kit and Peggy are working outside the rules to bring down people like Gregory Pavlic, if he wants to think along those lines. The fact that he broke the story about the girls we rescued in Cameroon doesn’t help. Also, the fact that Li connects to Kit and Peggy through their work for the UN, back in the day.”
I stare at him, appalled. “So, basically, we’re screwed?”
Even Amber seems stunned: “Surely Jake can’t believe that either Kit or Peggy is capable of taking down a Cameroon warlord or a human trafficker?” she comments.
“Sorry to be devil’s advocate,” says Thomas. “But I disagree. Kit or Peggy could easily have hired mercenaries to do that work, and in Jake’s mind, the photo of Caitlin could support that theory.”
Caitlin looks up, her face pale. “What are we going to do, Li?”
“We’ll find a solution,” she replies curtly. “Everyone has their price.”
“I don’t think Jake’s the type to roll over for money,” I say, doubtful.
“You are correct,” Li intones. “But that is not what I meant. Everyone has something that is of great value to them, that speaks to their principles. We will find that out about Jake and solve this.”
I glance at Caitlin. She looks as uncertain as me about that inscrutable path forward. But Li survived a tough childhood, torn from her parents during China’s cultural revolution. Whenever she chooses to turn her laser gaze onto a problem, it usually crumbles eventually. But this feels like it might be beyond even Li’s capabilities.
“For now, you both have to focus on Family First,” Li instructs. “Luckily, we already have some leads from the Cypriot Private Bank.”
“Shall we patch in the team in Mumbai?” Caitlin asks.
“Kit and Peggy are visiting the homes of some of the girls’ families at the moment, offering their condolences,” Thomas says. “But I’ve got Hala on video link now. . . .”
He brings up Hala’s face on the big screen and looks up at her, his face breaking into a wide smile. “How are you?” he asks.
I glance at Caitlin. I’m not sure about her, but the last time Thomas asked me how I was, it was only because I’d almost been killed.
“Good, thanks,” says Hala.
Li nods to Amber to start her briefing, and we all sit forward to listen, but even as Amber opens her mouth to speak, Thomas chips in with another question:
“Are you liking where you’re staying?”
Hala looks vaguely embarrassed and tells him it’s fine.
Li favors Thomas with a look that just dares him to try another bit of small talk. He subsides, his cheeks flushing—but I can’t let it go.
“Is the power shower strong enough, Hala?” I ask.
Caitlin chuckles. “What about the sheets and towels? Nice and soft?”
“That’s enough,” says Li. “Amber, can you remind us why we are all having this meeting?”
“This company that Hassan Shah gave us, AAB, is indeed linked with this repulsive Family First enterprise. Do you want to know how I traced that connection?”
Amber glances up with a touch of pride in her abilities—but Li rains on her parade, waving her on.
“Just give us the highlights,” she requests.
“Well, the Cypriot Private Bank has now realized there’s been a breach of their servers and have started to plug the holes. But not before I downloaded nearly two hundred thousand documents. We’ve found out that all sorts of shell companies link back to Imran. He appears to have been a key operative for Family First. At least, his payments go back to early in their history.”
“His name comes up on the bank documents?” I ask.
“Well, not quite. He has long used the Cypriot Private Bank not just as a bank but as a trustee—an entity to act in his place—to run his companies in Pakistan. That’s how we know it’s him. But that same bank is also a trustee for a company I traced to this man in India. . . .”
With a click of her mouse, Amber mirrors her laptop onto the colossal wide screen of the situation room, probably devastating Thomas by reducing Hala’s video link to a small box at the bottom. The photo that comes up is of an Indian man, with a long, refined face, and thick iron-colored hair swept back from his forehead. He wears a pale blue jacket with an elegant Nehru collar.
“Jingo Jain,” I say.
Amber nods. “Exactly. The man whose election swag you found in the warehouse. As you probably already know, he had a distinguished career in the Indian army, served as police commissioner in Mumbai some years ago, and is one of the front-runners in the state’s elections, which happen early next week.”
“Is he right wing?” Li asks.
“Definitely,” confirms Thomas, before Amber continues.
“Having said that, Jingo has gone a bit quiet recently on what he used to call ‘traditional family values.’ He was certainly very vocal in condemning Family First’s attack on our school. But he is on record from a few years back saying that he wanted women excluded from universities, reserving places for the men that ‘deserve’ them. He’s also lobbied in the past for the legal age of marriage to be dropped to fifteen.”
“Does he have daughters?” Caitlin asks, genuinely curious.
“Two sons, both in their twenties. One is in the military, the other runs an insurance business. Both seem clean.”
“So, is there a direct link between Jingo and Family First?” Li wants to know.
Amber frowns. “Still looking. But I did find one big donation from a Family First shell company to a far-right politician in Pakistan. If Family First are pursuing political avenues as well as terror, I’m sure there will be a connection to Jingo somewhere.”
“Then I need you and Caitlin back with Hala in Mumbai,” Li says, looking at me. “Check on the schoolgirls and make sure they are safe. And then, since Jingo is the most solid lead we have, find a way to lean on him and see
