Licence To Howl by Helen Harper

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The hot sweetcocoa which had been thrust into his hands was like manna from heaven.

‘You do realise, Mr Webb,’ Sarah Greensmith said, with a deeply disapproving look, ‘that one of the reasons we recruited you was your apparently high level of intelligence. In the last day or so, you have not lived up to that in any way, shape or form. Leaping into a freezing cold river at the height of a Berlin winter was not a smart move.’ She sniffed. ‘We are not in the habit of hiring martyrs.’

Scarlett pushed herself off the wall she was leaning against and marched towards Greensmith, positioning herself between her and Devereau. ‘What’s your fucking problem? You recruited him. You pulled him into this with no training, no support and, from what I can see, nothing but threats against him. You can’t lay all this shit on his shoulders! What are you doing to stop these bastards? I’ve not seen one ounce of effort from you or anyone else in MI5! I get that you’re looking for somebody to blame but we all know none of this is Devereau’s fault. He’s done a damned sight more than anyone else has!’

Devereau blinked. The sudden warmth which was spreading through him wasn’t simply because of the syrupy hot chocolate. ‘Why, Scarlett,’ he croaked, ‘I didn’t know you cared.’

‘Shut up, Devereau!’

Uh, okay then. He leaned back. Sarah Greensmith didn’t glance at him; her steady gaze was focused entirely on Scarlett.

‘Believe me, Miss Cook,’ she said evenly, ‘I have conveyed as much to my superiors. You should know that despite his foolishness, the German Chancellor has also privately expressed her gratitude to Mr Webb.’

‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ Scarlett said, every word dripping with heavy sarcasm. ‘That makes up for everything.’

‘At least nobody died this time.’

Devereau sat up again. ‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘Did the bridge …?’ For some reason he couldn’t quite form the words to complete the sentence.

‘No, Mr Webb. After you confirmed the presence of the bomb, the German government did the unthinkable.’

‘They paid the money?’

Greensmith’s mouth downturned. ‘They did indeed. Nothing exploded. It appears the devices were linked to mobile phones. One call was all it would have taken to trigger the explosives. The other two targets have been discovered. They’re both high value buildings on the outskirts of the city. They are being made safe as we speak. There has been no loss of life and no damage to any property. But Berlin have played right into the terrorists’ hands.’

‘The alternative would have been much worse!’ Scarlett shot back.

‘This is what they wanted. They left that clue to the Oberbaum bridge because they wanted the bomb found before it blew up. Their end goal is to make money and that’s exactly what they’ve done. You might think that paying them off is for the greater good but if you yield to one terrorist once, then they all think you’ll do it again. It opens Germany up to terrible future atrocities. The only alternative left now is to hunt down everyone involved and make sure they never see the light of day. Unfortunately,’ Greensmith added grimly, ‘that may prove harder than it sounds. Avanopoulos has a lot of contacts. He could go to ground, change his face, hide himself away and we’ll never see him again. It’s highly unlikely he’s no longer in Germany.’

‘The Greek might not be the one pulling the strings,’ Devereau told her. ‘I know it looks that way and I know he very deliberately placed himself near the Reichstag. But I’m not convinced he’s the ultimate boss.’

‘Most analysts at MI5 think he’s the most likely suspect. Solentino already had everything in place and ready to go. All Avanopoulos had to do was persuade everyone left that he could fill Solentino’s shoes. If not Avanopoulos then who?’

‘Alina Bonnet.’

Greensmith jerked. ‘You have reason to believe she’s still alive?’

‘Nothing concrete. And I have nothing more than speculation as to her actual involvement in all this crap. But it’s educated speculation and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s tied up with this far more than we realise.’

She pursed her lips. ‘We did consider her. We’ve not blindly run towards Stefan Avanopoulos as terrorist boss numero uno. But almost nobody believes Alina Bonnet has the ability, the power or the damned cold-hearted viciousness to pull off such a thing. She doesn’t have any form for this type of thing and she’s likely already dead.’

Devereau shook his head. ‘She’s involved. I’m convinced of it. I don’t have any proof but there was something about her …’ He ground his teeth in frustration that he couldn’t put his feelings about Solentino’s supposed girlfriend into words. ‘She shouldn’t be underestimated.’

‘That’s as may be.’ Greensmith raised her shoulders. ‘There’s no actual evidence to prove she’s anything more than an unwilling participant, however. Or that she’s even alive. Still, I will pass along your theory, however, and I’m not saying it doesn’t have some merit. You realise that if Ms Bonnet is somehow part of it, we don’t know where she is any more than we know where Avanopoulos is. We have been looking. Hard.’

‘I suppose that’s what happens when you’re the handyman of the terrorist world. You’ve got contacts and unsavoury friends all over the place who can help you hide.’ Devereau grimaced and stood shakily up to his feet. ‘We don’t know where they are but we know where they’re going. Paris is next on the list. We need to get there now.’

‘And do what?’ Greensmith inquired. ‘Find them how?’

‘We came close this time,’ Devereau growled. ‘All we need is for the bastards to make one mistake and –’

He was interrupted by a ping from Greensmith’s pocket. She slid out her phone and glanced down at the screen, her face suddenly turning several shades paler. ‘I have to make a call,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’ She turned on her heel and marched out of the door. That didn’t bode well.

Devereau massaged the back of his neck. ‘Where are we right now?’ he asked Scarlett.

‘Some kind of MI5 safe house near the centre of Berlin. I wanted a hospital but that Greensmith woman seemed to think it would be wiser to bring you somewhere anonymous to recover. Avanopoulos or Bonnet or whoever will be more than aware Vissier was picked up. They know their early plans are compromised.’ She pointed at him. ‘But it’s likely that they still don’t know you’ve been working against them all this time. She thought it was prudent to keep it that way. Just in case.’ Scarlett gave him a meaningful look. ‘We don’t know what will happen next but you’ve been a damned sight more successful in getting close to those wankers than the rest of MI5 have been.’ She tossed her head. ‘Greensmith was right about something else too. Jumping into that river was a dick move, Devereau.’

Devereau caught her gaze and held it. ‘You risked your own life by jumping in after me,’ he said quietly.

Scarlett snorted. ‘Hardly. I’m a vampire, remember? I’m pretty hardy. My kind doesn’t tend to get hypothermia.’

‘It was still dangerous.’

‘You have my ring. If you sank to the bottom of the River Spree, then I’d likely never get it back.’

‘Uh huh.’ Devereau licked his lips, enjoying himself. ‘Keep protesting, Scarlett. Keep pretending you don’t care.’

Her dark eyes flashed. ‘We’ve been through this already. I never said I didn’t care.’

Devereau smiled.

The door re-opened and Sarah Greensmith walked back in. Her expression was tight and Devereau had the sense that her attention was elsewhere. ‘I’ll make arrangements to get you to London. Both of you this time.’

He opened his mouth to argue but she was already scowling at him.

‘Don’t piss me off, Mr Webb. This isn’t up for negotiation. Not this time. Going to Paris isn’t going to help. It turns out the bad guys are far, far smarter than any of us gave them credit for.’

Both Devereau and Scarlett stilled. ‘What? What’s happened?’ he asked.

All of a sudden, Sarah Greensmith looked incredibly tired. ‘They’ve made their next move and made it very public. They’re asking for 3000 bitcoin from the British government in return for not bombing Paris. And they’re demanding 3000 bitcoin from the French for not doing the exact same thing to London.’

* * *

It was already darkwhen Scarlett, Devereau and Sarah Greensmith boarded the military plane bound for London. Greensmith took herself away to the far corner, flipped open her laptop and began muttering to herself. Scarlett and Devereau sat further away, both of them with their shoulders slumped.

‘It’s clever,’ Scarlett conceded.

Devereau grunted.

‘If Paris pay up and London don’t then Britain will forever be castigated as the villain. And vice-versa. They’re using politics against the politicians and peer pressure to force both countries’ hands. Hell, at this point they don’t even need to plant any explosives. By making good on their threats up till now, they’ve done enough to get the money that they want by doing nothing more than asking for it.’ She blew air out through her cheeks. ‘What a shitshow.’

‘They’ve not won yet.’

‘I’m all for optimism, Devereau, but this is beginning to feel like a lost cause. We’ve been out-manoeuvred at every turn.’

‘The Italians still have Vissier. Maybe he’ll yet reveal something vital that we’ve missed. We have the shortlist of specific targets from him…’

Scarlett interrupted. ‘We already know from what happened in Berlin that they’re circumnavigating that shortlist. The information we have is useless. You know how many important buildings there are in both London and Paris. You know how much history and meaning is tied up in each one. To cover every single building and every single bridge is next to impossible. You could draft in the entire army from every corner of the world and it still might not be enough. It didn’t work in Berlin. There’s no reason to think it would work now.’

Devereau drummed his fingers. ‘Maybe there’s something else we’re not thinking of.’

From the corner, Greensmith cleared her throat. ‘Maybe doesn’t cut it. In the end, Mr Webb,’ she said, ‘you’re really not James Bond. MI5 are not invincible and most certainly not infallible. And sometimes, sadly, the bad guys do win. We don’t know where they are. We don’t have any leads. If you can think of anything, by all means, let me know. But they could be in Paris. They could be in London. They could be fucking anywhere,’ she said, swearing in front of him for the first time, ‘and we don’t know where. The clock is already ticking. London and Paris have until two o’clock in the morning to pay up.’ She held up her watch. ‘That’s less than six hours from now. And this time the terrorists, whoever they truly are, have not provided any helpful clues to allow us to locate the bombs. Anything we do to stop them now is nothing more than a stab in the dark. It’s only pure luck that will help us now and that’s in short supply. They’ve already won.’

Sharp pain stabbed between his shoulder blades. No. She was wrong. There had to be something they could do. This was MI5 for goodness sake.

Something softened in Greensmith’s expression. ‘Don’t get me wrong, we’ll catch up to them eventually. It’s simply not possible in this day and age to stay hidden forever. But it won’t happen today. Today,’ she said, gazing off into the distance, ‘they win.’

He stared at her, watching the angular shadows of the plane flit across her face. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to accept that.’

‘Then it’ll end up destroying you,’ she said simply.

‘Not before you destroy me first.’ There was more than a trace of bitterness to his tone.

Something flickered in her eyes. ‘Despite what I said before, we won’t actually blame you for any failures with this operation. Everything you have done this far has proven what an asset you can be and everyone at MI5 now appreciates that.’

Devereau genuinely doubted anyone at MI5 believed he was an asset. It didn’t take a super spy to know that she was lying through her teeth.

Greensmith seemed to realise that herself and added lamely, ‘You’ve done everything you could. Finding that device at the Oberbaum bridge will stand you in good stead. Consider yourself off the hook. You won’t receive any blowback. On that part, I promise you. The Germans wouldn’t stand for it.’

‘Just as well,’ Scarlett half snarled, ‘because none of this is Devereau’s fault.’

Greensmith merely gave her a wan smile.

‘Somebody will need to be made the scapegoat,’ Devereau said. ‘Which poor bugger have you decided to pick on now?’

‘As it turns out, Mr Webb, there are no shortage of candidates. Other governments have been involved and numerous other nationalities. Not to mention other people at MI5. It’s a case of stick a pin into a map and come up with someone to blame. It shouldn’t be too hard. They’ll find someone.’

He shook his head. Unbelievable. ‘They’re going to pay the demands, aren’t they? The British government will pay up.’

She sighed. ‘I believe so. It’s a mistake but it’s far out of my own hands. We underestimated what these terrorists were capable of. And we will pay the price for that. Literally.’ She turned her head and looked away from him. There was something she wasn’t saying. He was sure of it. All of a sudden, Devereau realised what it might be.

‘I was sent to investigate Solentino on my own,’ he said. ‘With only you as my guide. There was a limited budget. I’ve got no experience. And I’m a supe to boot. This was really nothing more than another test, wasn’t it?’

Greensmith jerked. ‘Another test?’

Devereau smiled humourlessly. ‘Yeah. Nobody at MI5 actually believed Christopher Solentino was a threat. He was on your radar. You knew something was up. But you never thought for a second that it would be something like this or that he could possibly be remotely successful. Sending me to Rome was merely a shot in the dark. You were sticking a pin in a map,’ he said, turning her own words against her, ‘and seeing what happened. If I fucked up, it didn’t really matter. I’m just a werewolf. If I messed up, it would only prove the prejudices.’

Greensmith’s eyes slid away.

‘Bloody hell,’ Scarlett breathed.

‘I’ve always been on your side, Devereau,’ Greensmith said.

Perhaps she had. Perhaps she hadn’t. He chose not to challenge her on that for now. ‘And the rest of MI5?’ he asked. ‘What about them?’

This time she didn’t answer.