Gunnymede picked up the card to examine it. ‘That’s my prison mug shot.’
‘It’s the only recent picture of you we had on file.’
Gunnymede opened the small red box to find a coveted MI6 badge.
‘Bet you never thought you’d ever hold one of those again,’ Harlow said. ‘Something else.’ There were several post-it note blocks in various colours on his desk. He pulled the top note off the pink block and handed it to Gunnymede. ‘You asked for that?’
Gunnymede read it. ‘Thanks.’ As he put it in his pocket his phone beeped. A message from Neve.
‘Am I allowed to have dinner with a colleague on my company card?’ Gunnymede asked.
Harlow pushed a button on his desk phone. His secretary looked in.
‘Has Gunnymede got a bank account yet?’ Harlow asked.
‘It will be ready in three working days,’ she said.
Harlow looked at Gunnymede. ‘You may. But it will be deducted from your salary.’
Gunnymede left the room.
Harlow picked up the spangle wrapper and looked at Aristotle who raised his eyebrows at him.
Gunnymede used his new ID card to gain access to the MI6 headquarters building and took an elevator to the fourth floor. He walked along a wide corridor to a door labelled F42, inserted his ID card into the keypad and tapped in a number. It unlocked.
Inside was an operations room with a large screen on one wall, a dozen monitors and computer terminals, several of them occupied, and a spacious worktop in the centre. The walls were lined with panels designed to hold paperwork without pins or adhesive, several of them already populated with photos and labels.
Leaning over the worktop, poring over several satellite pictures was Neve. As the door closed behind Gunnymede she looked up at him. He felt that same sudden impact he’d felt on seeing her for the first time eight years ago. There was something magically magnetic about it. It wasn’t anything like love or even desire. It was like a rush. A sparkle that tingled in the pit of his stomach. Like tasting something delicious that required immediate examination, and another taste. The ardour he felt in the car had not changed in all that time. Their eyes locked. He started to smile but checked himself. She was without expression.
A woman seated at a computer terminal turned in her chair to look at Gunnymede. It was Bethan. She smiled broadly and got to her feet.
Gunnymede was unbalanced by her unexpected presence but recovered to smile broadly. Neve didn’t miss the exchange between them.
Gunnymede walked over, unsure who to greet first. Bethan intercepted him, clearly wanting an embrace but mindful of their surroundings. ‘Hello,’ she said, somewhat shyly. ‘Nice to see you.’
‘This is a surprise,’ he said.
‘I didn’t know you were part of the team,’ Bethan said, looking into his eyes. ‘I was hoping you would be.’
‘Hi,’ Neve said, joining them, seeing the sparkle in Bethan as she looked at Gunnymede.
‘Hello. You haven’t changed at all,’ Gunnymede said to Neve. ‘We last met years ago on a task,’ he explained to Bethan.
Bethan looked between them, suddenly sensing something but unsure quite what. Neve wasn’t smiling.
‘I’m surprised you remembered what I looked like,’ Neve replied. ‘It was dark and brief.’
Bethan could only wonder what she meant.
‘We met on a stakeout,’ Gunnymede explained.
Bethan nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said to Gunnymede.
‘For what?’ he asked.
‘For inviting me onto the team.’
Gunnymede looked between Bethan and Neve. ‘I didn’t.’
Bethan was confused.
‘I invited you,’ Neve said. ‘Jervis asked me to.’
‘Oh. Who’s Jervis?’
‘My boss,’ Neve said.
‘He’s the operations director,’ Gunnymede explained. ‘He must’ve been impressed with your work.’
‘What work?’
‘The military assassination theory you’re working on for one,’ Neve said.
‘How do you know about that?’ Bethan asked her before looking at Gunnymede for an answer.
‘I never said anything to anyone here,’ Gunnymede said in his own defence.
‘Jervis mentioned it,’ Neve said. ‘He also gave you credit for assisting Devon in flushing out Krilov.’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ Bethan said. ‘In fact I almost screwed it all up.’
‘He likes your intuition,’ Neve said. ‘Whatever.’ She was eager to move on. ‘We’re here to find Saleem. Let’s talk about how we’re going to proceed.’
Neve led the way to the worktop.
‘Be flattered,’ Gunnymede said to Bethan as they followed Neve. ‘Jervis is hard to please.’
Bethan forced a smile.
Neve leaned over various maps and photographs of players that covered the worktop. ‘The police and border forces were briefed yesterday about Saleem which kicked off a nationwide hunt. The media are being kept out of it for the time being. London is obviously the prime location. The main areas of focus are: Where he is; What the target is; and his Methodology. Search lanes will include Saleem’s history and associates, communications, data analysis, financials tracking and foreign intelligence liaison. Monitoring will take up the bulk of the task with the police and GCHQ sharing comms, facial and DNA tracking.’ Neve looked at Bethan. ‘Be aware, elements of this operation may overlap other operations and there may be information that you are not cleared to know. You may be excluded at times. I don’t need to tell you not to discuss anything you learn in here with anyone out there.’
Bethan nodded understanding.
‘The focus of this
