‘He wasn’t one of ours. Believe me. Do you think we’d have allowed anyone to bring radioactive material into our country? Remember, I sent you to extract information from him,’ Walter said.
‘You knew how that would end.’ I flexed my hands, crushed the paper cup. I struggled to contain the urge to grab hold of Walter and shake him to pieces. Turning very slowly, I looked at the old man. ‘Do you realise what Arrowsake has done to us? They’ve twisted and corrupted everything that we ever stood for. We fought against the terrorists of the world…’
‘Only to become terrorists ourselves.’ Walter’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, something alien to the man in all the years I’d known him. He tried to take hold of my hand, but was pushed away as roughly as before. ‘Please hear me out,’ he pleaded.
Fit to burst I stood up sharply. About to walk away, I stopped, recalling the woman and her children from minutes ago. How could she or her babies ever be safe when she was living amongst men capable of hurting them? I sat down again, roughly.
‘OK, for old times’ sake I’ll listen, Walter. I’ll even stay and do what you want me to do. But not for Arrowsake. I’m doing this because I believe that you disagree with it all. That you want to stop this before it gets even further out of control.’
‘Yes,’ Walter agreed. ‘Yes, that’s it. I hate what has happened, and what we’ve been forced to do. I want to put things right again. Right for you two boys, as well.’
‘Forget about it,’ Rink snorted. ‘You didn’t have to bring us in; you should have left us good and well alone.’
Walter sighed. ‘Rink, I brought you in because you’re the only ones I can trust. Don’t you see? Arrowsake have their people who I am forced to deal with. They aren’t singing from the same hymn sheet as we do. Stephen Vincent? If they’d told him to plant the bomb himself, I believe he’d have done it.’
‘Always thought he was a fucking weasel,’ Rink said.
Impatiently I said, ‘Get back to Hicks. Tell us what the hell happened, what we’re up against.’
‘OK. Hicks was never supposed to meet with Kwon, or do the deal for the plutonium isotope. Arrowsake never anticipated he’d be capable of causing lasting damage to the city. But he’d have been seen as a viable enough threat to the state that it would make people sit up and take notice. Allowing a single bombing would be enough to cause panic, and only immediate and positive action would be enough to quell the public’s feelings of vulnerability.’ Walter stopped to gather himself. He was panting as though he’d just jogged up a hill. ‘The intention was to create so much outrage that the public would demand a tougher stance against our enemies. Arrowsake were poised to take out Hicks and his followers as soon as that happened. And with their victory, the CIA, MI6, all the intelligence agencies, would shake off the constraints of the Judiciary Committees, with the full backing of the public again. Things would have gone to plan, except that Hicks grew more ambitious than anyone could have imagined. You’ve probably heard by now that the bomb at Lincoln Square didn’t contain any radioactive substances, and we can only thank God for that.’
‘Yeah. It’s a goddamn crying shame, isn’t it?’ said Rink.
‘Makes me wonder about all those crazy conspiracy theories,’ I said. ‘They’re maybe not as stupid as they sound.’ Some people argued that the Western governments had engineered the situation to validate a war in the Middle East. Proof was, there were no WMDs found, just plenty of oil. Now, hearing what had gone down here — that Arrowsake might be guilty of state-sponsored terrorism — it didn’t seem that far-fetched. ‘Tell me that Arrowsake aren’t planning to let Hicks use the plutonium.’
‘Of course not…’ There was a slight tremor in the old man’s voice. Maybe Walter wasn’t as sure about Arrowsake’s motives as once he’d been. ‘They want him stopped for real now.’
‘And they want us to do it for them.’
‘Typical,’ Rink said. ‘They fuck up, then they look for a coupla scapegoats to clean up their crap for them.’
‘So what happens now?’ Walter asked. ‘You can walk away with my blessing, but I’d rather you didn’t. Everyone here needs your help.’
I thought back to another conversation I’d had with Walter. Having returned from a particularly violent mission where I’d lost a couple of colleagues, I’d questioned the need for men like us in the modern age. Walter had touched me gently over my heart as he said, ‘George Orwell said something along the lines of, “We sleep safely at night because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those who would harm us.” ’
‘I think you’ll find that Churchill said it first,’ I’d said.
‘Does it matter? The words hold validity… whatever their origin. Hunter, son, don’t you see? You are our rough men.’
Rough men, I couldn’t deny that. And rougher now than ever before.
Back in the present I glanced at Rink, and got a nod of approval from him.
‘The way I see it, Hicks still has his hands on two flasks of plutonium. Only thing that matters now is that he’s stopped from using them.’
‘I’m relying on you boys,’ Walter added.
‘So point us at him,’ Rink said.
‘I would if we had any idea where he was at.’
I said, ‘Don Griffiths.’
Walter squinted, and I went on, ‘Hicks was determined to stop Don from ruining his plans. Don must know something that can help lead us to him.’
Walter stood up quickly. ‘We can go back to my office and make a call from there.’
With the space suddenly vacated between us, Rink and I were left blinking at each other. Finally, I asked, ‘You with me, Rink?’
‘I’m with you, brother. Sure as hell ain’t with Arrowsake no more.’
I looked at Walter, my eyes gritty like they contained chips of dirty ice. ‘Those are my terms, too. We don’t do this for Arrowsake; we do it for those two small children and their mother.’
Walter had no idea who I was talking about, but he could only nod in agreement. Then, his eyebrows knitting, he said, ‘Just be wary, boys. You’re either with Arrowsake or you’re against them.’
‘Fine by me.’ I touched the faint red ring round my throat.
Chapter 42
Day had turned to evening.
The Staten Island ferry still shuttled back and forth, but the ubiquitous sightseers who normally hitched a free ride past the Statue of Liberty were absent. A feeling of unease hung in the atmosphere as the people of Manhattan internalised their bewilderment at what had occurred earlier in the day. Initial fears were that al-Qaeda had struck another blow, but it was now common knowledge that the bomb that exploded during the Purim celebrations in Lincoln Square had claimed neither lives nor buildings of religious significance. Some believed this wasn’t all they had to fear, and their fears would be borne out, but most had gone back to their normal routines with little more than a shake of their heads. News had spread that a group of men had been killed during a stand-off with the FBI and NYPD — what was there to worry about now that those responsible for the failed attack were dead?
There was a hush over the city that never sleeps. The Big Apple was just resting in silent contemplation.
Out on the Hudson the sound of a motorboat reverberated between the wooden pilings along the riverside, sounding like the wheeze of an asthmatic forging uphill. The outboard motor died, went quiet and the boat drifted the last few yards to the much larger moored yacht. Deep blue in colour, its running lights extinguished, the yacht was like a solid wedge of night. Two figures clambered from the motorboat, up the ladder and on to the deck. One was taller than the other, the smaller man holding something in his hands.
They went unchallenged on the deck and approached the galley. This was no leisure craft, no glass doors or plush living quarters awaited them inside. The upper deck was utilitarian at best, an open space beyond double doors painted the same dark blue as everything else.
Samuel Gant slammed the doors with both palms, pushing into the room regardless of whether he was
