Because he couldn’t leave an encounter feeling like he was the one who’d been humiliated, he patted Taylor’s cheek and watched her flinch. “Sort this out.”

She returned to her office, his aftershave still in her nostrils, so that she had to chew some Nicorette just to clear her sinuses. Her cheek tingled nauseatingly. Enough for an official complaint. She could win—there were enough other women to call upon—but that would be promotion over. One thing rarely prized in an intelligence agency is a whistleblower.

Suspend all operations? On his say-so? No, she thought. Gabriel Skinner didn’t trump the might of GCHQ. Press interest was an issue of its own. She suspected Rehman or those around her. Fucking police.

Taylor called the MI6 media liaison.

“How bad is it?”

“Under wraps for now. Speculative on their part.”

“Anyone suggested legal instruction? Give the papers a clear warning?”

“We’ve been advised to tread carefully, in case it does more harm than good.”

She called SO15. Her contact there confirmed he had four officers ready to interview any intelligence service employees deemed necessary for the Petra Wade investigation.

“Hold for now. No one speaks to anyone until I say so, okay?”

She spoke to the technical assistance department that arranged the surveillance side of Six operations and confirmed what clearance she’d need to intercept communications from Ascension Island police or New Scotland Yard. It would be governmental level sign-off, extraordinary circumstances.

Slow down, she thought. The press wouldn’t draw in the intelligence service in any specific way; they could use hints, allusions if they wanted. That wasn’t a story. Meanwhile, she could only pray Kane somehow proved a negative: that whatever happened, Rory wasn’t involved. Which meant finding another explanation for Petra Wade’s disappearance. And what consequences would that bring him?

She logged in to the file-sharing system, felt excitement at seeing a report from Kane, then increasing concern as she read it. He had outlined the previous night’s incident. What on earth was one to make of that? Just a very unfortunate beginning, or—in spite of the unpleasantness—a promising glimpse of whatever was going on on the island? An explanation of events that drew attention from Rory Bannatyne?

The victim of the attack was a boy called Connor, who lives with parents on the US base.

Taylor felt a pang of guilt at subjecting Kane to this mission. Behind his terse account she sensed disorientation. The hotel closing down was a ridiculous mess, and she was about to have a word with the operations team responsible when she saw Kudus approaching, a frown on his face.

“Got something,” he said. “Maybe.”

“On what?”

“Jack Moretti. The name on the postcard.”

He spread papers on her desk.