She had done so because of the idea or perhaps even ideal she had of justice and how it should be served. Yet ambition had taken over and she had almost lost sight of what mattered … almost.
The cabbie used his horn to warn a pedestrian on a mobile that crossing in front of his car might not be such a bright idea.
“We’re almost there, luv … Do you want me to wait then?”
“Please, and could you stop as close as possible to the stairs that come up from the Regents Canal?”
“Righto …” the burly chap nodded. His broad shoulders hunched over the wheel of his vehicle, almost dwarfing the front cabin. He indicated and parked his cab where he had been asked.
It took only a few minutes for Cora to ring back. A few more for her to emerge from the canal’s towpath and come to sit beside Nancy.
“Sorry.” She attempted her best smile and Nancy raised a don’t-do-it-again eyebrow.
“I’ll be very careful.”
“Mmm … I hope so.”
The cabbie swung his cab around in a perfect U-turn. A few minutes later he deposited them in the small courtyard that stretched in front of Cora’s building.
The charred windows and blackened walls needed no explanation. The fire had ravaged the inside of the flat and Cora let out a sob.
* * *
Jack rose on his elbow and picked up his mobile. He slumped back into bed and brought the other elbow underneath his head. He listened to the long message the London Station Chief had left for him.
They had found the girl – Cora – and were watching her.
MI6 had been called by someone at Scotland Yard.
“Shit. This is turning into a real cock-up.”
Jack checked the bedside clock. 5.37am.
The alarm would ring in less than half an hour. It was hardly worth going back to sleep. He replayed the message he had received from London and gave a short, dejected groan. Not the start of the day he had been hoping for.
Jack grabbed an old fleece and put it on. He moved to the kitchen and started to brew fresh coffee. The laptop had been left open on the kitchen bar top. He sat on one of the bar stools and logged on. Ollie Wilson had stumbled onto something important. The question still remained, what?
Jack spent the next ten minutes yo-yoing between the complex security vetting protocols on the laptop and a coffee machine that was not quite playing ball.
He sat down finally with a much-needed cup of Brazilian coffee, and read the file he had been able to select once he had navigated the security checks.
Jack had taken a lot of time putting together the piece of research he was now reading, calling in favours from some of the best CIA analysts in the field. Biohazard and biowarfare no longer had, in his view, the reputation it might once have had. True, the large countries around the world – China, Russia, the US and some other European countries – had an interest in the matter.
But he estimated that this was more to safeguard against an event than to initiate the release of a biological agent on foreign soil. The fear they were protecting against came from rogue states possessing and subsequently unleashing such an agent.
It was the growing power of the pharmaceutical industry that concerned Jack . The boom of the biotech industry was also on his mind. It was complex and almost impossible to monitor all the discoveries small boutique firms were stumbling across … inadvertently or by design. Then they were only too keen to sell to the highest bidder.
Ollie had just started working for a new biotech firm in London. His novice and perhaps still principled mind had been disturbed. Ollie had not liked what he had seen nor what he had been asked to do.
Jack went back to his notes. Ollie had contacted Jack through the CIA website by first applying for a job. Jack had reluctantly listened to what Ollie Wilson had to say. There was always someone abroad who thought he’d come across another conspiracy or national security threat. Jack brought up the last email he had received from the young man.
Must find a way to download latest findings. The next batch of research is crucial. What I’m working on is not what it seems.
Ollie had previously sent Jack a long document. The thesis for the PhD he had received from Harvard Medical School. In many parts, it went over Jack’s head but he understood the thrust of it.
Using AI, machine learning and genome technology to design pioneering drugs … from antibiotics to vaccines.
The BIG Programme director at Harvard had been enthused by Ollie as a student, it seemed. Ollie’s ability to generate ground-breaking ideas had earned him the exciting job of Head of Research in the small tech company he had joined in London.
Jack’s mobile rang aga in. He recognised the London Embassy’s number.
“You’d better get to the office.” Jethro did not sound pleased. “There have been some further developments. I’d rather speak to you when you are back at HQ.”
* * *
“At least the other flats have been spared.” Cora’s voice faltered. Her head had dropped against Nancy’s shoulder. They stayed there for a moment, contemplating the disaster, each engulfed by her own feelings. Nancy opened the door of the cab and stepped out.
“We should wait for Pole’s protection officer to arrive.”
Cora nodded, looking hesitant. Voices surprised the two women and they turned around. Three young people were moving in their direction from across the road.
A young woman sporting long dark hair, braided with colourful extensions ran towards them, threw her arms around Cora and squeezed her tight.
Cora hugged her neighbour back. It was good to feel the strength of someone else to share the burden.
“That was horrible … really spooky.”
“Were you in the flat?”
Beth
