As he first glimpsed the huge fences surrounding the massive complex, he was reminded of training exercises years ago when he and his men had been engaged on a joint exercise with the British Special Boat Service, the SEALs’ transatlantic cousins. They had been charged with infiltrating the main ferry terminal to leave dummy explosives, as part of an anti-terrorist programme ordered by the Ministry of Defence. Needless to say, it had been a simple enough task, even with security on full alert.
Now, in the freezing cold of the December morning, he once again approached the fence line with the aim of breaking in. It was ridiculously simple — Cole strolled for less than five minutes around the perimeter before he saw a long stretch of fence in an obviously underused area. He crossed the road after checking that nobody was around, and vaulted the broken-down six-foot chain-link barrier in one fluid motion. And that was it — he was in, completely undetected. He once again marvelled at the people who ran security at such establishments. The area was so big it was simply uneconomic to protect it properly all the way round, and so security was strengthened only at key points, such as the area immediately around the terminal itself. This would at least give the impression of security for the passengers and that, Cole reminded himself, was what it was all about — the perception of safety in the mind of the public. Anyone involved in the business itself knew that there was no foolproof way to protect against a determined intruder, and so seldom even tried. Such resolutely unsecured areas as the point through which Cole had entered were proof positive of that.
Now he kept to the shadows as he advanced through the compound, moving through the massive storage zones and cargo areas. Whenever passing someone was unavoidable, he merely straightened himself up, nodded at the person and said ‘Morning!’, as if he had every right in the world to be there. And, as always, nobody ever questioned him. Because at an establishment where over ten thousand people were employed, many on temporary contracts, who would know that he didn’t belong there? Cole had long since accepted the truism that when ignorance was mutual, confidence was king.
At a little before seven in the morning, the first faint rays of dawn only just starting to penetrate the dark winter gloom, Cole arrived at his destination. Even at this early hour, Car Park Four was a hectic cacophony of activity. The next Sealink ferry was scheduled to leave at eight a.m., and already the long queue of vehicular traffic was spread for half a mile along the icy concrete approach-way, the lead cars creeping onto the ramp that connected the mainland to the huge passenger ship that lay floating quietly in the dark waters of the Strait of Dover, the lights from the upper floors struggling to break through the freezing fog that constantly lingered over the English coast.
Cole identified where the cars were feeding from, and made his way across the car park towards the starting line. He waited in the shadows, observing the scene for some time, until he saw what he was after. Nearby, a man and a woman in their mid-twenties, two young children in tow, approached their car. It was a smallish Toyota hatchback, and as the woman put the two kids into their seats in the back, Cole saw the man talking to her impatiently, before stomping to the driver’s side and slamming the door. Probably stopped off in the main terminal building for a bite to eat and a visit to the toilet for the kids, and now he was pissed off about the surprisingly long queue to the ferry. Ah, the joys of family holidays, Cole thought cynically, as he started his own approach to the small vehicle.
He advanced on the car from the cover of the line of parked automobiles to the left, crouching low to avoid detection. He waited patiently just yards from the Toyota, and used the time to take off his shoes, removing his socks and wrapping them around his hands before putting the shoes back on his bare feet. He ducked low as all the doors were finally secured and the harassed father got the engine started. Instants before the car moved out to join the traffic, Cole rolled in one smooth motion underneath the chassis, clamping his protected hands around the cold metal front suspension struts and heaving himself from the floor, feet twisting around the rear struts.
He adjusted position slightly as the car moved forwards, making himself as comfortable as possible. It was a shame that he had to get into position so early — ideally he would have liked to pick a car nearer to the front — but by the time the cars were in the queue, there were large expanses of bare concrete to either side of the line, and his approach would have been easily spotted. As it was, nobody had seen him latch himself to the underside of the Toyota; and nobody, he was confident, would check underneath the car. It was unlikely that anyone would even look inside the boot, even at the security checkpoints just before the boarding ramp. A young family in a small hatchback simply did not attract attention; Cole wondered if they’d even be asked for their passports.
No, Cole decided as he relaxed all but the necessary muscles, nobody would find him. He would be decidedly cold and uncomfortable for the next forty minutes or so, but it would be no worse than many other things he had done, and actually more pleasant than some. But by eight o’clock, he would be safely aboard the Sealink ferry, undetected by Hansard’s agents, and the first leg of his journey to meet his family would have begun.
5
Albright was sitting on the hard deck of the yacht as the sun rose in a brilliant golden hue above the shimmering Caribbean Sea. Such beauty was lost on him, however; his attention was instead concentrated on the small mirror in his hand. The light sea breeze had whipped a lock of blond hair across his forehead, and it needed immediate adjustment. His comb was halfway through the procedure when he felt a tap on his leg. He looked next to him at the prone body of Art Michaels, still in position stretched out in front of his surveillance equipment.
Albright’s mirror snapped shut, and he got up onto one knee. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘We’ve got movement,’ Michaels replied. ‘Mrs Cole is getting some things packed up in the children’s rooms.’
Albright stood up abruptly. ‘That’s it. They’re on the move. Keep watching,’ he ordered as he moved quickly towards the wheelhouse, punching a number into his secure cell phone as he did so.
Michaels tried to listen to the conversation as Albright left the deck, but only caught the beginning. ‘Sir, it’s Albright. They’re on the move, and — ’
The door slammed shut, cutting off the rest of the dialogue. Moments later, however, he felt the throb of the engines as they started up, and soon saw the breaking of the waves ahead as the big yacht started heading for shore.
He could simply hope that the order was still only to follow and observe.
6
Sarah took the bags and started packing the car. She could see the yacht out to sea, further out to the west but about three kilometres closer than it had been earlier. They had obviously started their approach, circling in on the location in as subtle a way as they could manage.
Sarah had started fastening Amy into her child seat in the back of the Range Rover when her daughter looked up and saw her staring over the roof of the car. Caught out, Sarah smiled sheepishly. ‘What is it, Mommy?’ Amy asked.
Sarah smiled at Amy reassuringly, even though her heart rate was increasing exponentially as she watched the yacht move slowly towards the house. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, honey,’ she reassured her, checking her watch. Almost seven o’clock. She prayed it would work, whilst at the same time fighting the urge to gag as she thought about what she had done. She had always considered herself to be mentally strong, but the fact remained that theory was one thing; practise, especially when people could die, was something else altogether.