Contents (84)
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- Acknowledgements
‘Special Agent Eden Grace, Mr President. She seems . . . hesitant to accept that her orders have come from you . . . Yes, Mr President.’
Meyer placed the receiver down and pressed the loudspeaker icon on the cradle. The voice that immediately filled the room was unmistakable.
‘Agent Grace?’
‘Mr President.’
‘Agent Grace, I’m sorry to involve you in what will happen in New York today. Truly sorry. But I have no other choice.’
‘Mr President, are you saying . . .’
‘Yes, Agent Grace. Assistant Director Meyer is telling you the truth. What has to happen today has to happen. For the good of this administration.’
‘But sir . . .’
‘There are no “buts”. This must be done. And I need someone there in whom I can have complete confidence. Your record is immaculate.’
‘Sir? What . . . what are you expecting me . . .’
‘I’m expecting you to be you. Mistakes have been made in the last twenty-four hours, Agent Grace. Mistakes that have weakened this office. Made it vulnerable. I can’t have any more of those. I know you won’t make them and that you won’t allow them to be made. I know you’ll do your duty. I know you’ll do what’s right.’
‘I’m sure Agent Grace understands now, Mr President.’ It was Meyer who spoke, finality in his voice. The repeated mention of ‘mistakes’ was hitting too close to home. He was bringing this to an end. ‘This will be dealt with. You have my guarantee of that.’
‘I hope so, Assistant Director. And Agent Grace?’
‘Mr President?’
‘My apologies again that I have had to involve you in this. But I know I can count on you. Do your duty. Do what’s right.’
‘Mr President.’
The speaker disconnected. Knowles was gone.
Meyer turned his head to face Eden Grace. She looked blank, as if the blood had left her face.
‘Happy now?’
Grace looked up in response. She gave no hint of emotion. Not until she spoke, her voice firm and her words for the first time informal.
‘Happy? No, I’m not happy. But don’t you worry, Jack. I’ll do my job.’
TWENTY-EIGHT
Belmarsh.
Mansour had heard the word before today. Not often. In news reports, mainly.
It had meant nothing to him. Why would it? He’d had no reason to think that he would ever go there. Not as a visitor and certainly not as a prisoner. Hell, he’d had no need to even know where it was.
That was then. Now? Now it meant something. Devlin and Duffy had told Mansour what he needed to know.
Belmarsh was not just any jail. It was a state-of-the-art, high-security facility on the outskirts of London, fifteen miles or so from the Marylebone Court.
Like most closed prisons, Belmarsh housed ordinary inmates from the local area. Which in this case meant men from across London and Essex, either serving sentences or waiting trial.
But that was not the Belmarsh Mansour was about to experience. That, for want of a better term, was the ‘outer Belmarsh’. Mansour was heading somewhere very different. He was going to the Category A facility that existed behind the walls within it.