56
As Hansard’s Bentley swept him the last mile to the private airport just outside London, he couldn’t help but be a little perturbed. He could tell that the whole incident had put him out of sorts when it took him three attempts to pack his pipe properly, the first two having degenerated into a sorry mess on the deep carpet.
So, Cole had escaped. It was too bad; really, too bad. Hansard could only hope that the man’s mind would be on meeting up with his family, and not on revealing to the press — or anyone else for that matter — that the death of William Crozier had been an assassination. Because that would really put the cat among the pigeons.
But Cole didn’t truly realize the implications behind his latest service, Hansard was sure. Besides which, the issue of secrecy was one which Cole took seriously. Hansard had only ordered Cole’s execution because he had been worried that Cole might talk after he had realized what the real reason for Crozier’s death had been. And the real reason wouldn’t be clear for several days yet, Hansard knew. Therefore, he had time.
Hansard had not yet issued a national alert for Cole; if captured, he might talk nevertheless before one of Hansard’s men could get to him. But he had plenty of agents out there looking for him, and had his own people posted at every sea port and airport in the country. And at the other end, he had Albright watching the Cole house. If Cole followed normal procedure, he would try and meet with his family in a neutral, secure area. Hansard didn’t know where that was but he felt sure that Cole would be found. If he managed to escape the United Kingdom, his own family would lead Hansard’s men to him.
The galling thing was that Hansard was no longer in direct control of what was happening. Some of the control was now in the hands of fate, and that was something Hansard had no time for. He hated the uncertainty of it, and further hated the fact that his careful plans, which had been years in the making — years! — could soon be undermined by one man.
But Hansard was an optimist at heart — he would never have even dreamt of such a venture if that had not been the case — and felt quietly confident that Cole would soon be reacquired, and quickly silenced. There was still plenty of time before he could become a true danger.
57
Cole hung up the receiver of the payphone with a shaking hand. In such a run-down area, it had taken him some time to find a phone that worked, and that hadn’t been vandalised beyond either function or recognition.
His extended search had, however, provided him with a new set of clothes, although he would have been the first to admit that they were far from perfect. As he had staggered from one destroyed payphone to another, he had soon become aware that he was being followed. He would normally have realized sooner, but his senses had been dulled by the afternoon’s activity.
It was past four o’clock now, and in the rapidly diminishing light, the predators were already out and operating, looking for victims. And in his obviously weakened state, Cole looked like just such a thing.
They approached him two minutes after he had spotted them. One circled round in order to approach from the side, whilst the other stayed behind, confident that he was out of view.
The first man was casual, almost friendly. ‘Alright mate, have you got the time?’ he asked in a broad cockney accent. Cole was well aware of the trick — distract the victim with a question, make them look away, perhaps down towards a watch, then pull out a knife and demand money, backed up by the second man from behind, who would also be armed — and had no desire to get into a protracted fight with the men, having neither the time nor the energy.
And so no sooner had the man got the words out of his mouth than Cole had knocked him unconscious with a marma adi nerve strike to the inside of the collarbone. The second man went down just half a second later as Cole spun round and hit two points on his neck in rapid succession, using the extended middle knuckle of one hand. He was beginning to adjust his movements to compensate for the pain in his ribs, and the three strikes had caused only slight discomfort.
Cole dragged the bodies out of sight into the deep shadows of a nearby side street, and stripped them both, then himself. He used the clothes of one man to dry himself, rubbing his body vigorously with the jacket, top and trousers until they were soaked through. They might not have been the cleanest things in the world, but Cole was not so much concerned with hygiene as with avoiding hypothermia.
Once thoroughly dry, he put on the clothes of the man who was a more similar size to himself, along with the boots; too big, but they would certainly do for now. He found two flick-knives and a knuckle-duster on the men as well — just necessary tools of their chosen trade, Cole supposed — and pocketed the items. He also found over two hundred pounds in cash, and decided that they must have had a busy day. Cole was glad that he had ended it early.
Although they were not an ideal size, the clothes were at least non-descript. The man had obviously chosen them to be bland and unmemorable; victims’ police reports would subsequently not be much help in finding the culprits, and this suited Cole’s needs perfectly.
He had finally found a payphone just around the corner on the next street, and used some of the change he’d found on the men to place a coded call to a bureau in Grand Cayman, who then relayed an innocuous message to his home’s landline telephone. The coded message directly would tell Sarah to move immediately to the emergency RV.
He had faith in her ability to do so; she was tough as well as smart, and he had trained her well. But he had no idea what obstacles she would have to overcome, if there were agents already near the house, if — he stopped himself dead. There was no point in filling his head with ‘what ifs’; such a waste of mental energy would only work against him in the long run.
Cole breathed deeply, the pain in his ribs making him wince in pain. He had to trust that Sarah and the children would make the rendezvous; he simply had to.
The question is, Cole wondered as he considered the security net Hansard would be spreading out over the country to bring him in, will I manage to make it there myself?
PART THREE
1
The party was held in the same place all of their regular Alumni meetings were now held — the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. Hansard made sure that nobody registered who the guests were, when they came, or when they left. It was as secure as a meeting of such important men and women could be; even their private security details were not allowed anywhere near.
Clyde Rutherford raised his glass first, clearing his voice as the excited chatter ceased and all eyes turned his way. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he announced, ‘let’s show our appreciation for Vice Admiral Charles Hansard!’
There were whoops and cheers, and loud applause as Hansard raised his own glass, acknowledging the praise. He let it continue for a few moments before holding up a calming hand, waiting for the applause to finish before he spoke.
‘Thank you,’ he said finally. ‘Thank you for your kindness, and thank you for the work you have all put in yourselves. Do not forget that we are all in this together, brothers and sisters striving for a new path for our nation; a better path, a safer path, and certainly a more profitable path.’