Rule 53 Read online

  “Tell her I’ll call her in a few days.”

  “I strongly recommend against it, Mr Mann.” Tom’s tone left no room for argument, and he didn’t give Jake a chance to raise one. He disconnected abruptly, and tossed the phone to Leigh.

  “I’ll bet that’s the easiest break-up call you ever had,” he said, chuckling at his own joke. She didn’t answer, just sat stoically as the doctor stitched the gash at her hairline.

  Jake checked the street outside, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anything suspicious and at this hour of the evening, non-descript vans stood out like a sore thumb, especially in a residential area. He’d been careful arriving here, made sure he wasn’t followed, and only periodically turning his phone on for any missed messages from Leigh. How the hell had they found him? As he watched, hidden in the shadows of the darkened room he stood in, the vans started up, indicated, and pulled away without fanfare. No squealing of tyres, nothing that drew any attention. It made little sense.

  “Fuck,” he growled to himself as he grabbed his keys and phone, and ran out. He wasn’t the target. Whoever they were, were using him to get Leigh out in the open, and from the sounds of it, it almost fucking worked. His next fuck echoed in the stairwell as he took the steps two at a time.

  CHAPTER 41

  Listed as Karl’s official next of kin, Leigh collected his personal effects from the police station. Tom accompanied her, taking no chances by letting her go alone. She found the homicide detective, Harrison, a gruff, cold man to deal with. An Irish cop turning up didn’t help matters either, and Harrison didn’t appreciate Tom’s tough questions.

  Harrison eyed her facial injuries and bandaged wrist, glaring at Tom with suspicion, and she smirked when it twigged with her that Harrison likely suspected Tom of inflicting the injuries. Tom didn’t give a damn what the detective thought, or what erroneous conclusions he jumped to, he just wanted answers. While Karl was German, he was an EU citizen living in Ireland. That made it a Garda matter as far as Tom was concerned.

  After the hospital visit to patch everyone up, they returned to the Embassy for a debrief. While hers were the worst, Leigh wasn’t the only one to sustain injuries, but she also received an ear bashing from Adam. As the senior ranking officer of the ill-fated operation, she bore the brunt of it. She attributed his reaction to what she told him were only superficial injuries, while adhering to the tradition of stoically playing them down, and claiming her wounds were not that bad. Only when the pain meds wore off did the full whack of pain hit her, and the realisation of just how lucky she’d been. Without the rest of the team to come to her rescue, the consensus from everyone involved was that she would have suffered the same fate as Karl Gouderhoff. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that those responsible for Gouderhoff’s death were the ones who’d tried to grab her.

  Now, she collected Karl’s meagre personal possessions. True to his previous nefarious profession, he’d travelled light, with very little in the way of identification or possessions, but had a mobile phone. After prodding from Tom, Harrison admitted that, while there was only one number in the phone’s contacts list, another number had been dialled, but Metro PD couldn’t trace it. Harrison showed it to them in the hopes these foreigners ruining his day might be of use to his otherwise dead investigation.

  Tom knew she lied to the detective, and admired her brazen audacity at the fib, but he’d been around her long enough now to have learned her little tell-tale signs and quirks. He stayed quiet. As far as he was concerned, especially with the attack on Leigh, this was now an Irish matter, and the less interference from outside forces, the better. She signed for the phone and personal effects left-handed, surprising Tom, but he noted her left-handed scrawl was more legible than her normal right-handed one.

  “What’s the number?” Tom asked, as they got back to their car. There was no point hiding it, and given the potential danger she was in, she wouldn’t hold anything from the people likely to come save her.

  “It’s Karl’s unlisted mobile phone,” she told him.

  “Did he bring it with him?”

  “No, he left it behind in Ireland when he disappeared.”

  “Why phone it? Why not call you, or even Mann?” he asked. She smirked.

  “He wouldn’t risk calling me directly out of a misguided attempt to keep me from harm. The number in the contacts list is Jake’s.”

  “So why not call him?”

  “I won’t know that until I access his other phone.”

  “You mean hack.”

  “No. I know his passcode to his voicemail. The only reason he’d phone it would be to leave a message, for me.”

  “He left you breadcrumbs, or better still, maybe an explanation,” he said, and she nodded.

  “He knew I was here in the States, Jake told him. Maybe he didn’t want to lead whoever he was running from to me.”

  “But they still found you, and targeted you,” he added.

  “I don’t think it was his doing and I won’t know otherwise until I get into his voicemail.”

  He sat in her tiny workspace, wondering how she coped in such a small environment and with no one else to talk to, but the reference to her being a non-team player now made sense. True to her word though, she accessed Karl’s voice message and played it. Tom was annoyed and disappointed at what sounded like a garbled mess, a jumble of words that he couldn’t understand. Probably because it was in German, she explained. Karl was afraid, breathless on the recording.

  She downloaded the audio file and played it through from start to finish a number of times. Her injuries added to the fierceness to her expression of intense concentration. She grabbed a pen and restarted it, stopping after short sections to write an English translation in her indecipherable scribble. While Tom remembered a smattering of German from his school days, most of this was beyond his comprehension, but he got the gist of it, despite her handwriting. He watched her at work, admired her cold, detached, yet methodical manner, and in her he saw echoes of the man he guessed her father had been.

  Despite her bandaged hand, she typed the entire message at an impressive speed, compared to Tom’s usual index-fingered technique, and then printed a hard copy for him to read.

  “The confessions of a dying man,” he concluded, and she nodded. “You okay?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

  “I will be,” she answered in that detached tone, not revealing her inner turmoil; the anger, the hurt and the grief, all battling to be acknowledged, but which she refused to let loose.

  CHAPTER 42

  Confessions of a dying man was correct, and she was tempted to contact Jake, but that would be a mistake. Not in making the contact, but, well, in everything else that now came between them.

  She listened to Karl’s voice, over again, throughout the rest of the evening, realising how much she missed him, how much she loved him. As she listened, she read her transcript. Anger sparked at knowing he’d kept her father’s secrets so well. She was angry he also had to pay the price for those secrets.

  While Karl started out breathless in the message, he found his rhythm, and his unburdening flowed.

  Leigh…

  I’m sorry…

  I know you’ll find…

  This message…

  [car horn, angry voices]

  [rapid footfalls, heavy breathing]

  Leigh, you have a brother…

  I’m sorry, should’ve told you, but…

  Never the right time…

  And no reason…

  Miles away…

  Wasn’t going to tell you, but…

  Called…

  Code word…

  Your dad’s…

  [more running, heavy breathing]

  [silence]

  I think I’m safe for a little while…

  Oh god, where do I start…

  Lee, he… told me he went off script once, didn’t complete his mission, but let an arms dealer live because of the intel he had, a
nd he told your father everything. I think it led him to Lantry in the end, but it changed the parameters of Lee’s operation. He was undercover in the North at a very dangerous time. Part of his cover meant living with this man’s daughter, and he got her pregnant. I think the kid was about a year old when Head Office pulled your dad out for his safety.

  I only saw the boy once, Lee brought me with him, not long after I started living with you. I don’t think he trusted me to leave me behind. When things started getting too dangerous for them, your dad pulled the kid out and set him up with a family in the States.

  [silence, then a heavy sigh]

  But something happened. This kid called Lee’s old number. Kid? He’s a grown man now, but he used Lee’s old codename. While you were away, people were watching the house. They knew about you, maybe…

  [heavy breathing]

  Maybe they thought Lee was still alive, I don’t know…

  I’m sorry Leigh, I had to leave. I wanted to keep you safe, and to find your brother. I promised Lee I’d help him, if he ever needed it. But it’s too late. You’re already here, and I can’t save either of you. I’m not even sure what’s going on, but somehow, it’s connected to Huntington. Maybe they can help, I don’t know…

  I’m sorry

  [silence]

  I love you

  [end call]

  It solved several mysteries, while creating more. Tired and aching, she stretched out on the sleeping cot in her office, stuck her earphones in, and set her playlist playing to help mentally sort through everything. First up she had Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, and she now understood her dad’s ritual of listening to it; the calm, steady rhythm, the serenity of the music calmed her mind, before her playlist progressed to more favourites including Vaughan-William’s Fantasise on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. Her musician and piano-teaching mother would’ve been proud of her choices, having been the one to introduce her to many of the works on her listening list.

  At times like this, music was both a blessing and a curse, stirring often painful memories, yet providing the soothing salve for the soul, the means by which to process the myriad of emotions.

  Karl’s message solved the mystery of the Green Badger, the codename for her father, but it only added to the mystery. And Rainey had used it. So what caused him to contact an old number? Was her brother playing games, despite his claims otherwise? And why didn’t anyone at Huntington recognise the codename? The smokescreen from the Brits was growing larger.

  A hand on her shoulder woke her with a start, Adam looming over her.

  “You weren’t joking when you said it was never boring around you,” he said, as she sat up.

  “Why? What’s happened now?”

  “Your brother’s just phoned the Embassy’s emergency helpline.”

  CHAPTER 43

  If anyone could help him, even save him, it would be Leigh, but she wasn’t answering his calls. He hadn’t pegged her for the spiteful type, or the kind of person to ignore a distress call, but with no response from her he wasn’t so sure.

  Mark messaged him earlier. The old man wanted to see him, was sending a team to pick him up. That kind of summons never boded well. The addition of the team was to ensure he went quietly.

  At seeing the SUVs pull up to his apartment, he made a last ditched attempted to contact her and called the Irish Embassy. Half expecting an automated message at such a late hour, he was surprised to hear a man’s deep voice answer. He asked for her but was told she wasn’t available, and that concerned him. Was she refusing to speak to him? Until he realised he never said who he was.

  Watching the old man’s henchmen getting out of the vehicles, he knew it was too late for a rescue now, so he left a message instead, hoping she’d know who the Green Badger was. If not, he was confident she’d work it out.

  The car ride to the old man’s house was a quiet one, and left him with time for more introspection. Not that he needed it. He always expected this day would come, just wished it hadn’t, at least, not without having passed on what information he’d found and gathered.

  And how messed up that he was pinning his hopes of rescue on another Harte to save him, the next generation; Harte 2.0. He smirked to himself at his own joke, earning a frown from the black-suited hired security man sitting opposite him.

  Or maybe he was just jumping to conclusions, he tried to reason. Maybe the old man wanted to talk to him about the sudden appearance of his sister. Perhaps it was as simple as that. While the old man knew all about her, had been the one to break that news to him many years ago, by not telling him now that Nate made contact with her would likely be viewed as disobedience or disloyalty. The old man didn’t like secrets kept from him, ironic when the old man kept them himself. Perhaps that was the old man’s secret to survival; learn everything from everyone, but tell no one anything in return.

  Nathan reflected on his own chequered history with the man, starting shortly after Lee abandoned him over here, an angry boy in need of a father figure, and the old man had provided it. But what was he about to walk into? With the old man, it could be anything, but he knew it was nothing good.

  CHAPTER 44

  Two messages from two edgy men in as many days. At least she understood Gouderhoff’s. Rainey’s was as cryptic as it could get, but he said the two code words she’d puzzled over. Tom recognised them too and glanced at her, but she gave nothing away. Even though Rainey spoke to a real person operating the emergence helpline, the call was still recorded, and they listened to it in the small conference room. Rainey sounded calm, but a tremor in his voice betrayed him. His message sounded as though he’s given it thought, no wasted words. Tom hit the play button and read the transcript on the main screen in the room.

  Rainey: I need to speak to Leigh Harte.

  Operator: I’m sorry sir, she’s not available at the moment.

  [pause]

  Rainey: Can you give her a message?

  Operator: Yes sir, I can, as soon as she becomes available.

  Rainey: Tell her… Tell her she was right, about the land grab…

  She and Adam looked at each other, thinking the same thing; someone tapped into their communications channel and overheard everything. They returned their attention to the recording.

  Rainey (cont):… and that the Green Badger needs her help to get out of the Coral Packet, otherwise I can’t help with what I thought was a waste of time.

  Operator: Can I say who’s calling?

  Rainey: It’s her brother.

  [end call]

  “Where the hell did she go?” Adam asked. Tom glanced away from the screen, surprised.

  “Huh oh,” he muttered.

  They found her back at the Crow’s Nest, changing into civilian clothes.

  “And where the hell are you going?” Adam demanded, blushing and turning away as she took off her army shirt and tee-shirt.

  “Remember when you said I was suspiciously complying with the rules, and I said it was strategic at the time?” she asked as she pulled on a regular tee, and zip-up hoodie, then dressed in jeans and biker boots.

  “Yeah?”

  “Time for a different strategy. And I want a car this time.”

  “Why?” Tom demanded, having watched the clothing change without the same level of embarrassment as Adam, but impressed by the extent of her body artwork.

  “Because I’m about to do something either stupid, or…”

  “I’m ordering you to stay here,” Adam growled. She squared up to him.

  “You don’t outrank me, remember?”

  “Comms?” Tom asked, receiving a glare from Adam.

  “You know I’m likely to be searched. I can’t risk it. I’m still wearing that fitness tracker,” she waved her wrist at him. “You can track me, if nothing else.” Surprising her, Tom handed her a vehicle key.

  “One of our undercover SUV’s. We’re getting ready to change it for a newer model, so it won’t matter if it’s seen.”

  “Don’
t help her,” Adam told him.

  “I’d rather help her than have to deal with the paperwork to send her casket home,” Tom answered.

  “You could still be doing that if this turns sour,” Adam snapped back.

  She held her hands up to both.

  “The best way to find out who’s behind the trap, is to spring it. I’ve gotten out of worse scrapes,” she lied convincingly. “And the tracker has a button, I’ll Morse-code an SOS if needed. How does that sound?”

  “Like a fucking stupid idea,” Adam answered.

  “Good, we’re all agreed then,” she replied.

  She stopped at Rainey’s apartment first. Any hope of finding anything of importance diminished as she wandered through the spacious studio. Someone got there before her and she found his place in a mess despite his taste in Minimalism decor. She found his office space, the drawers opened or askew. The contents showed signs of disturbance, but in one drawer, she found his passports, surprised to find one of them was an Irish one, the other two being British and US. The inclusion of the Irish one wasn’t unusual, but she guessed he was covering all bases, and being from Northern Ireland, he was automatically entitled to claim both a British and an Irish one. She took them both, not sure why but it seemed a good idea, and would stop her brother from disappearing. Or at least, stop him from using his Irish one to get away, knowing his sister would block his application when he sought a replacement.

  The rest of his desk showed nothing of significance, very little paper, and she guessed that, like her, he kept most of his documents and files electronically. Unlike her, he confessed to not backing everything up, but she suspected he also lied to her about that. She looked around, and found no electronic devices, no laptop and no tablet, and he always carried one.

  He claimed he had something to show her that would prove god-only-knew what, and given he had to retrieve it, she figured he lied yet again about not keeping a backup. She guessed he’d kept an external hard drive or thumb drive. And something that important he wouldn’t leave it lying around either. At least, she wouldn’t have, but then again, she had her father’s built-in safe at home to store all her secrets in. With that in mind, scanned the room with a new eye, looking for unusual sizes or changes in wall depths or angles, but found nothing.