Anna turned back to the technicians. “Sarah, send the—”
“Maps and photos to your phone. Done,” Sarah said. “I sent it to the CO19 lads as well.”
Anna nodded thanks and turned. “All right, people, let’s get to the roof.”
They raced out the door. As they rushed down the hall, Anna turned to speak to Ward and stopped in her tracks.
“Gillian, what are you doing?”
“Following you, obviously.”
“Out of the question.”
“Now you listen—”
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t negotiable, and I’ve no time for argument. You’re staying here.”
Anna turned and called to a young man walking down the hall. He hurried over.
“Wentworth,” Anna said, “escort Mrs. Farnsworth back to the command center and place her in Sarah’s care. Tell Sarah Mrs. Farnsworth is to stay there until she hears otherwise from me.”
The young agent nodded as Anna turned back to Mrs. Farnsworth.
“Gillian, the command center will be in touch with us at all times, so you’ll know what’s going on. That’s the best I can do,” Anna said, then turned and led the team away.
Gillian stood enraged, watching their backs. They’d bungled things and now had the cheek to suggest she wait patiently to be “informed,” as if they hadn’t bungled that as well. Sod that.
“Ma’am? Mrs. Farnsworth?”
Gillian roused and stared at the young man.
“Please come with me,” he said, taking her arm.
Gillian saw a door marked Women nearby. She faked a stumble, then bent slightly at the waist and clutched her midsection.
“Ma’am? What’s wrong?” Wentworth asked.
“All the… stress and exci… excitement…” Gillian gasped, moving toward the toilet. “I… I’m ill.”
Wentworth allowed Gillian to lead him through the door and stood uncomfortably in the center of the women’s restroom as Gillian stumbled into a stall and let the door swing shut behind her. She made horrible retching sounds.
“Ma’am? Are you all right?” Wentworth asked.
“I… I… think you better get… get help. Ge… get… Sarah. Ple… please hurry.”
Wentworth raced to the door of the toilet and looked out at the closed door of the command center, down the corridor. He looked about for help, but it was lunch hour, and the hallway was deserted. He called Sarah’s name several times, then reached for his cell phone just as another strangled cry came from the stall. The command center was only fifty feet away. He pocketed his phone and raced for the door.
Gillian was on her feet and out of the stall as soon as she heard the toilet door swinging closed. She caught it just before it closed and held it open a crack, watching Wentworth’s back as he rushed away. She timed her exit as he reached the control room door, bursting from the toilet and across the hall to the stairwell. The stairwell door opened with a loud clunk, and Gillian heard Wentworth’s angry shout through the closing stairwell door as she rushed down the single flight to the ground floor.
The ground-level exit was prominently marked EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY — ALARMED DOOR. Gillian burst through it without slowing, and the piercing wail sent her already racing pulse even higher. She raced around the building to find Daniel in the waiting area where she had left him only minutes before.
“How far to Gravesend?” she gasped, out of breath as she slid into the rear seat.
“Are you all right, mum?” Daniel asked, his concern obvious.
“I’m fine, Daniel. But quickly. Gravesend?”
“Do you have an address?”
“Seventeen Saxon Way, Gravesend.”
The old driver nodded. “Me wife used to visit a friend out that way before she passed. It’s maybe three-quarters of an hour. A bit less if I push.”
“See that you do. We’re off to get our Cassie.”
He turned to the wheel, and she was thrown back in her seat as tires squealed.
Farley watched porn, pants bulging as he debated a wank. Bloody Kraut. Leading a bloke on. He got up and stalked to the living room, parting the drapes. Slip a taste and slap her quiet? If Braun twigged, what would he do? Cut his bloody bonus, that’s what. Bugger. He let the curtains fall and moved back to his porn.
“We can’t worry about her now, Sarah,” Anna said into the phone as she peered between the blinds at the house across the street. “And I don’t think she’ll go to the media given that she knows we’re closing on Cassie’s kidnappers.”
Anna’s radio crackled. “One to Walsh. Positive ID on Farley.”
“I have to go, Sarah,” Anna said into the phone, hanging up to key the radio mike.
“I saw him, One. Anyone else?”
“Negative. Infrared shows one heat signature. Our lads have a good angle on the window in the back of the garage. There is no vehicle.”
“Hold positions; I will advise.”
The front door and attached garage of Braun’s safe house faced the street, with the backyard enclosed by a fence. Throughout the neighborhood, service alleys separated residents’ backyards from those of their neighbors on adjacent streets. Fourteen Saxon Way, diagonally across from the safe house, was vacant, and Anna’s team had entered unseen from the service alley. She stood now in the living room, a sniper in the bedroom above and an assault team in the alley directly behind number seventeen.
Anna stepped back from the window as Lou moved to take her place.
“They must have shielded the implant,” she said. “We got the flicker when that was somehow compromised. But if they shielded a whole room, Cassie and Braun might be inside. But where’s their car?”
“Farley stared one way,” Ward said. “He’s expecting someone. My bet’s Braun.”
Standing nearby, Reyes grunted agreement.
“Take Farley out,” Dugan said. “Save Cassie and wait for Braun.”
Anna looked doubtful. “Braun may have some sort of prearranged “all clear” signal before he returns. If Cassie’s with him, we risk losing them both. Taking out Farley’s not worth the risk of losing both Cassie and any chance of sweating Braun.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about Farnsworth going to the media,” Lou said from the window.
“Bloody hell,” Anna said as she joined him to see a poorly disguised Gillian Farnsworth approach a nearby bus stop.
“What can we do now?” Dugan asked.
“Nothing,” Anna said. “If we try to pull her in, Farley will spot us for sure, especially if she makes a fuss. All we can do is pray Braun develops myopia. Harry,” Anna said over her shoulder, “when it hits the fan, go collect Mrs. Bloody Farnsworth.”
Gillian Farnsworth sat at the bus stop in a head scarf and dark glasses. Sufficient, she was sure. She’d be the last person Braun expected.
They’d arrived before Daniel’s projection, and it had taken all her persuasive powers to get the driver to agree to drop her and park well away to await her call. She was unsure what to do but trusted it would become obvious. She peeked over her shades. She could hardly do worse than the “professionals,” after all. It was obvious their priority was Braun, not Cassie.
Braun returned the clerk’s smile, though he hardly felt cordial. The selection was abysmal, and his cart was piled with food he detested. He rolled it out to the van, parked between the supermarket and the chemist shop where he earlier bought supplies for removing the implant.
Braun loaded the supplies and pulled out of the parking lot, turning away from the safe house to trace a meandering path through the surrounding neighborhood, alert to anyone following. Good tradecraft was always necessary, even when one was sure of no surveillance. He smiled. Or perhaps especially when one was sure of no surveillance.