‘I didn’t even know I was taking it!’
‘Which was the point.’ They approached the top of the ridge, Brice nodding to the man behind the rock. Eddie looked back at the car — and to his surprise saw that the third Removal Man had materialised from nowhere, silently following them. Of course; while a casual passer-by would see nothing, someone specifically investigating the area would eventually spot the first two men… but by then, the third would have moved in on them.
Brice hunched down as they reached the hilltop. ‘Any activity?’
‘Just the guards patrolling the perimeter,’ the man replied. He glanced at Eddie. ‘This the source?’
Eddie extended his hand. ‘Eddie Chase, 22 SAS.’ The man — no older than thirty, he guessed, so too young even to have started special forces training by the time he left the SAS twelve years earlier — nodded, then turned back to the binoculars. ‘Nice to meet you too,’ the Yorkshireman said sarcastically.
‘Check the compound for Mukobo,’ Brice told him. The man on the ground shuffled aside so Eddie could take his place at a pair of powerful binoculars on a squat tripod.
The view through the lenses reduced the mile-wide gap to virtual yards. ‘Okay, so we’ve got… three armed men on watch,’ he reported. ‘Two big SUVs, and a guy near them having a smoke. None of ’em are Mukobo.’
‘We can cross them off, then,’ said Alderley.
‘You thought he’d be doing his own bodyguarding?’
‘Mukobo got this far by staying hidden,’ Brice said. ‘Posing as one of your own security detail to protect a decoy is an old trick.’
‘Yeah, I saw The Phantom Menace. And, y’know, I’ve done security work for a living.’
‘I know.’
Eddie snorted. ‘Course you bloody do, you’ve memorised my file.’
‘Hired by Norwegian industrialist Kristian Frost to act as bodyguard for Dr Nina Wilde in 2008 during her search for the lost city of Atlantis, and married her three years later,’ Brice recited as Eddie continued with his observations.
‘I’m seeing something of a pattern,’ Alderley cut in with a smile.
‘Since meeting her,’ Brice continued, ‘you and Dr Wilde have discovered several major archaeological sites — as well as averting a number of biological and chemical terror attacks, stopping a missile strike on the G20 summit, and preventing your ex-wife from detonating a nuclear device in New York City. James Bond would be proud.’
‘If it’s the Roger Moore Bond, that’s good,’ said Eddie. ‘Raised eyebrows and quips, that’s all I want from a spy — ay up, hold on.’ The smoker and one of the guards hurried to the front doors. Another man appeared, issuing instructions.
A tablet computer was attached to the binoculars by a fibre-optic cable, relaying what Eddie was seeing; Brice snatched it up. ‘The man who just came out is a driver,’ he noted. ‘They must be going—’ He broke off as his phone trilled. ‘Brice. Yes? Okay, get me the translation as soon as you can.’
‘GCHQ?’ asked Alderley.
‘Yes. Provone just called. We’ll know what he said in a minute.’
‘Maybe he wants to meet Mukobo,’ said Eddie, still watching the villa. More men emerged from the house. All wore similar outfits: dark slacks, white shirts under dark jackets, mirrored sunglasses. Another old trick, making it harder for onlookers to tell the guards from the client—
‘Wait, wait, that’s him!’ he gasped. ‘That was Mukobo, I’m sure of it!’
‘Which one?’ snapped Brice, staring at the tablet.
‘I’ve lost him.’ The briefly glimpsed face had vanished in the crowd. ‘Short hair, he was putting on his sunglasses.’
‘They’ve all got short hair and sunglasses,’ Alderley complained.
Eddie tried to find him again, but with no luck. The men split up to board the pair of vehicles. ‘I couldn’t see which truck he got into.’
‘Orders, sir?’ the watcher asked Brice.
Brice was about to reply when his phone rang again. ‘That was the translator — they’re meeting Provone,’ he reported. ‘The papers are ready.’
‘Where?’ asked Alderley.
‘He just said “the place we arranged”. We’ll have to follow them — once he gets a new passport, there’s nothing stopping him from leaving the country.’
The group hurried back downhill. ‘Why don’t you stake out the airport and grab him there?’ said Eddie. ‘I can spot him for you.’
‘Tenerife has two airports,’ Alderley pointed out. ‘You’ve got many talents — well, a few — but I don’t think bilocation is one of them.’
‘You’re bloody spies! You must have cameras and satellite links. Or just put me on FaceTime, for God’s sake.’ He gestured at the watcher’s tablet. ‘You recorded everything, right? Let me find a frame showing him, then email it to passport control. They’ll catch him.’
‘Not an option,’ snapped Brice as they neared the cars. ‘This operation is both low profile and solely British. We don’t want Mukobo being picked up by some dago customs officer.’
Eddie was surprised by the MI6 man’s use of the racist insult. ‘Did I go through a time portal back to the 1970s?’ He shook his head. ‘You bloody spooks think every other country’s our rival — or our enemy. Even our allies!’
‘In this business, the only people you can trust are the ones you totally control,’ was the dismissive reply.
‘You must have a really healthy marriage,’ said Eddie mockingly, though he then noticed that Brice wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. The discovery did not surprise him. ‘Anyway, Mukobo’s on the Red List; he should be arrested on sight.’
‘That’s not the mission objective.’ They re-entered the Peugeot, Brice taking the wheel, as the Removal Men jumped into their Land Rover.
‘Then what is?’
‘All you need to know is that our capturing Mukobo serves British interests. And I expect you to help us achieve that.’ Brice reversed into a turn, kicking up dust, then took out a walkie-talkie. ‘We’ve got to catch up before they reach the main road,’ he barked into it. ‘But don’t get too close.’ The men following in the Discovery responded with curt affirmation.
The villa came back into view as they emerged from behind the ridge. The two SUVs, identical black Chevrolet Suburbans, drove through its tall gates and started downhill. ‘This road, does it meet up with theirs?’ Eddie asked.
‘Yeah, about a mile away,’ said Alderley.
‘We passed a freeway entrance coming up here. They could be going anywhere on the island.’
‘They won’t get away from us,’ Brice said, before adding snidely: ‘And “freeway”? You really have lived in the States for too long.’
‘I’m remembering why I left in the first place,’ Eddie shot back.
‘Just remember whose side you’re on — to whom you pledged loyalty.’ Brice swung the car back on to asphalt and accelerated down the hill. The Discovery followed. Both Suburbans were ahead on the other side of the dry valley. He judged their speed, then raised the walkie-talkie again. ‘Okay, we have clear sight. Ease off.’
The Land Rover dropped back. The two roads met, Mukobo’s little convoy heading towards the heat-shimmering sprawl of Playa de las Américas below. Their pursuers kept pace, until—
‘They’re splitting up!’ Alderley said in alarm. The second Suburban peeled away to the right as the leading vehicle continued straight on.
‘We’ll have to do the same,’ said Brice, lifting the radio again.