But now there was a not inconsiderable spanner in the works; namely Mark Cole, who had indeed been a part of that same plan, albeit one that should have been eliminated. Hansard had never really wanted to have Cole killed; he was in many ways like a surrogate son to him, and in fact reminded Hansard on some occasions of his own son, who had been tragically killed in Afghanistan many years before. But Hansard was a man of vision, and knew that to achieve the outcome he so desired, he had to take care of even the tiniest pieces of the jigsaw.
Hansard didn’t doubt Cole’s loyalty; but he knew the man was intelligent, and feared that the events he hoped to occur over the next few days would have made his plans all too apparent to Cole. And what would he do then? It was possible that he just wouldn’t care; but given his background, that was decidedly unlikely, and it was therefore more probable that Cole might have undermined everything. And still might, Hansard thought uncomfortably.
It had been a mistake bringing him to London, Hansard thought with regret. He should have allowed him to return home, and then let Albright take care of the lot of them over in the Caymans. But, Hansard considered, he had no idea of what Cole’s return plans were, how long it would take for him to get back home. If it was more than a few days, Cole would have realized that he was sent on the mission under false pretences and would have started to put two and two together.
Hansard straightened. No, he told himself, it wasn’t a mistake bringing Cole to London. It was a mistake trusting those useless bastards at the safe house to do as I asked.
And now Cole was nowhere to be found, perhaps already starting to piece the puzzle together. The feeling of losing control was starting to creep up on him, placing its first tentative hand on his shoulder, but he quickly shook it off. He had to. There was no point in worrying about the situation; he would just have to ensure that the rest of his plan went so well, and influenced so many people, that even if Cole did turn up with some crazy story, it would be too late to change anything anyway.
He rather fancied another brandy, but decided to forego the pleasure; there was business to attend to, and he was due to speak in under half an hour. As he stood, he felt his secure phone buzz in his pocket. He looked at the number, recognized it, but didn’t allow his hopes to rise too far. ‘Yes?’ he answered.
He walked to the thick oak door, his cane keeping time with his steps on the tiled floor as he listened to the man on the other end of the phone. When he finally replied with a whispered ‘Kill him. Immediately,’ his face remained resolutely impassive; inwardly, however, he was at last smiling.
12
Cole had spotted the two other men easily. Unfortunately, they had also spotted him. His assumption about the two men below must have been correct, he realized. They were Hansard’s men, and they must have seen the door in the parking sector mysteriously opening and closing, and then radioed their colleagues up above to check it out.
And so, as soon as Cole got to the top of the stairs and turned into the main corridor, he had immediately seen the two men approaching. Upon Cole’s sudden appearance they had split up, veering off in different directions; one pretended to look in the window of a nearby boutique, whilst the other just carried on walking up the busy corridor.
Cole was sure that the men hadn’t even realized he’d spotted them, so sure they would be in their own professionalism. But Cole had known their type instantly. Both men were of medium height and medium build — harmless, unobtrusive. Nondescript hair, nondescript clothes. It was the eyes that gave it away, aware and alert. For someone who knew what to look for, it was a dead giveaway. Only very few men and women could disguise the look in the eyes. Cole was one of them, and he didn’t let the recognition flash across his own eyes even for an instant.
But he couldn’t be entirely sure of who the men were, of course, just as you could never really be sure of anything in this particular business. But there were ways of assessing the possibilities, and so Cole decided to carry on with his planned counter-surveillance run and see if the two men followed. It would put some space between him and the two other agents downstairs as well, as Cole was sure that they would soon be summoned upstairs to help.
As Cole turned left into the corridor, he saw the first man’s head twitch. Not that interested in the boutique window, then. Within seconds, the same man was on the phone, starting to follow him.
The second man was nowhere to be seen, probably circling round to intercept the tail further on. This would enable the two men to switch, and therefore be much less obvious. Against an untrained target it would almost certainly work, and Cole could see that the men were not amateurs.
As Cole stopped to look at the menu of a small restaurant, he saw out of the corner of his eye that the phone call had finished. Had he been summoning the men below? Or calling Hansard for orders on how to proceed?
Either way, Cole knew, the agents would have to be taken care of. And as he turned from the menu to continue his stroll through the ferry, he was already developing a small plan of his own.
13
Almost five thousand miles to the south-west, Albright watched Sarah Cole and her two children deplane the jetliner onto the scorching concrete of Miami International’s Runway Three. The kids looked happy, he thought in surprise. Probably no idea what’s going on, he decided. Sarah looked more nervous, but Albright found himself impressed with her composure.
Albright, ensconced in the security command centre of the airport after using his official credentials, saw Sarah finish a visual search of the area, and then watched as she and her children started off for the terminal building.
He knew that Sarah be keeping tabs on who might be watching. It wouldn’t matter though — they would have to leave the airport at some stage, and if they tried to get a connecting flight from within the airport, Albright would pick that up right here in the office.
They wouldn’t get one over on him again.
14
Sarah had seen nothing that aroused her suspicions, but that meant nothing — she had no idea who the people following them might work for, and therefore no idea how sophisticated their surveillance would be. For all she knew, they might have access to the airport’s own security apparatus. If that was the case, she knew that their actions within the airport would be monitored electronically, without them ever realizing.
Sarah’s visual checks were only really to see if there was anything overt to be concerned about. The escape plan accepted the fact that they would be monitored until leaving the airport, and all hinged on the routine they would follow once outside.
But Sarah had been told by Mark time and again that it never hurt to check; if she could identify a surveillance team within the airport, it might make avoiding such a team later on a little easier.
Sarah and her children made their way slowly over to a small restaurant in the main foyer, trying as best as they could to avoid the hustle and bustle of the thousands of holidaymakers and business people that swarmed around the airport like bees in a hive.
Sarah had already visited the American Airlines ticket desk and bought three one-way tickets for San Francisco, on a flight leaving in just over three hours. She had no intention of boarding that flight, a fact that would be obvious nearer the time, but she hoped that the enemy, whoever they were, might waste a few resources setting up surveillance on the other side of the country. At the very least, she hoped that the people undoubtedly waiting and watching outside would allow themselves to relax slightly, making things easier for when they did leave the airport.