The Bombmaker (41 page)

The Wrestler cursed and Green-eyes turned to look at him.

'I'm going,' he said. 'You don't need me any more.'

'No,' said the man in the ski mask. 'We all stay until it's finished.'

'Fuck you,' said the Wrestler. 'You've got your bomb. I'm sure as hell not going to be here when it goes off. Just make sure you transfer my money into the bank. If you don't, I'll come looking for you, Egan.' He turned and walked towards the door,

muttering darkly to himself.

Patsy looked at Denham. 'You hear that? “Egan”, he said.' She turned to Carter. 'Barbara, get on to records. Anything we have on a man called Egan. Aliases, everything. Notify GCHQ, too.

And get them to liaise with the NSA. Search for any calls mentioning Egan. Then contact the FBI, cross-check with them.' Carter nodded and picked up the phone.

'Wait!' said Martin.

'Martin, she's only going to make a phone call. We have to know who this Egan is.'

Martin hesitated, then nodded. Carter dialled a number and began to whisper urgently into the mouthpiece, a look of fierce concentration on her face.

There was a coughing sound from the loudspeaker. On the two screens, one of the flickering green figures slumped to the floor. 'They've shot someone!' said Captain Payne.

'Who?' shouted Martin. 'Who's been shot?'

'I don't know,' said the captain, striding towards the monitors.

'For God's sake, is it Andy?' He kept the gun aimed at Payne's back.

Martin stared in horror at the monitor closest to him. One of the green figures was standing over the figure on the floor,

pointing down. There was a coughing sound again. The sound of a silenced gun.

'It's not her,' said Payne. 'He's shot the man. Shot him twice.' The SAS captain slammed a fist into the palm of his other 335 STEPHEN LEATHER hand. 'Now,' he said. 'We have to move now. They're all distracted - we'll be in there before they know it.'

'No,' said Martin. 'We wait until they've made the call.

Then we'll know where Katie is.'

'They're not going to let her speak to your daughter,' said Payne. One of the SAS troopers, the one on the captain's left,

moved slightly so that he was at the edge of Martin's vision.

'Stay where you are!' shouted Martin.

'They're going to trick her, Martin,' said the captain. 'It's a distraction - she'll be so focused on the phone. He's killed one of his own people - he's not going to think twice about killing your wife. Think, man. They're not going to let her live, not after this.'

'No!' shouted Martin.

'You've got to let us go in, now.'

'He's right, Martin,' said Patsy. 'The SAS are professionals they train for situations like this.'

'We can do it, Martin,' said the captain, his voice soft and persuasive.

Martin put a hand up to his forehead. 'You're confusing me,'

he mumbled.

The SAS trooper lunged towards Martin, his hands outstretched,

going for the gun in Martin's hand. Martin turned, his mouth open in surprise, but too slowly to get his gun around.

Denham was quicker - he threw his tweed hat at the trooper's face and stuck out his foot, tripping the man up. The trooper tried to regain his balance, his arms flailing in front of him, but he pitched forward on to his knees. Martin jumped back, covering the man with his gun, both hands on the butt, his finger tight on the trigger.

Everyone froze. Martin's eyes were wide and staring and he was breathing heavily. His arms were shaking, and he had to force himself to relax the pressure on the trigger. 'Easy, Martin,'

said Patsy. 'Take it easy.'

Captain Payne moved away from Martin, his hands up in surrender. 'It's okay. We're all cool, Martin. No one's going to hurt you.'

'Sorry,' said Denham, picking up his hat. 'I must have slipped.'

The SAS trooper glared up at him, then got to his feet.

'Damn you, Liam,' hissed Patsy.

Denham smiled in a cold imitation of an apology. 'What are you going to do to me, Patsy? Have me sacked?' He nodded at the green screens. 'Let the girl have her chance. She deserves it.'

'Thanks, Liam,' said Martin, covering Payne with the gun.

'Don't thank me,' said Denham. 'We're both up to our necks in shit now.'

The office went silent as everyone strained to hear what was being said over in Cathay Tower.

Andy stared in horror at the pool of blood that was slowly spreading around the Wrestler's head in a gruesome parody of a halo. The man in the ski mask had shot him twice. Once in the back as he walked away, once in the side of the head as he lay twitching on the floor, face down. After the second shot the Wrestler had stopped moving.

Andy tried to speak, but no words would come.

Green-eyes was also stunned. The two women looked at each other, then at the man in the ski mask. 'Why?' asked Green-eyes.

'First rule of this business, always obey orders. Second rule,

never use names. He broke both.'

Green-eyes glared at the man. She raised her gun so that it was aiming at his chest. 'How do I know you won't kill me?

When it's all over. How do I know you don't want me to go up with the bomb?'

The man pointed his gun at her, smiling 'Would you prefer that? How about we have a quick draw here and now. First one to pull the trigger wins. Are you up for that?' He straightened his arm and aimed at the centre of her face. Green-eyes flinched and the man laughed sharply. 'Look at you. You don't have the balls to shoot me, and you know it. Pull yourself together. Can't you take a joke?'

Green-eyes gestured at the body on the floor with her gun.

'That's not funny. That's not even close to funny.'

'He was walking out on us. I paid you all for your unswerving loyalty. To carry out your tasks without question. Without disobedience.' He levelled the gun at Andy once more. 'Anyway,

we're wasting time.'

In her terror at witnessing the killing, Andy had forgotten the remote control in her hand. She waved it in front of her face, her thumb poised over the on-off button. 'If you shoot me, I'll still have time to press this. Then we all die.'

'I understand that, Andrea. But I know you don't want to die. No one does. Who'll look after Katie if you're not around?

Who'll grow old with your husband?' He took a step closer to her.

'No!' she screamed. 'I mean it! I will! I'll do it!'

The man took a step back. 'Okay, take it easy,' he said, his tone conciliatory but firm. 'What is it you want?'

'I want to go home to my family.'

'You can do that. We can all walk out of here.' He looked at his watch. The bomb had been active for almost ten minutes.

'We walk out of here and once the bomb has gone off, you can leave.'

'And my daughter?'

'We've no interest in hurting children, Andrea. We just want this building blown up.'

'Why?'

The man shook his head. 'You don't need to know.'

'Once the bomb goes off, you're going to kill me anyway. I know you are.'

The man shook his head. 'No, we're not. I swear it.'

Andy's mouth was so dry that she could barely speak. She rubbed her mouth with the back of her left hand. 'You want it to look like an IRA bomb. If I go up with it, that's what everyone will think, that the IRA used me to build it. If I'm alive, your deception isn't going to work.'

Green-eyes and the man looked at each other. Andy knew that she was right. That had been their plan, right from the start.

'So maybe it's better if we all die,' she said. 'Together.' She pointed the remote control at the man as if it were a gun and she was about to fire.

'Wait!' he said. For the first time there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as if he finally believed that she might do it.

'I want to know why,' said Andy. 'I want to know why you've done all this. Kidnapped Katie. Forced me to build the bomb for you. Is it because you want to blame the IRA? You want to derail the peace process?'

The man in the ski mask snorted dismissively. 'You think we'd go to all this trouble over politics?' He laughed sharply. 'I tell you, the IRA would have been a hell of a lot more effective if they'd hired me.'

'So why, then? If it's not politics, why?'

The man stared fixedly at Andy, then nodded slowly, as if he'd come to a decision. 'It's about money, Andrea. Dollars.

Millions of dollars. Hundreds of millions of dollars.'

Andy frowned, not understanding.

The man waved his gun around the office. 'Look around you. What do you see, Andrea?'

Andy said nothing, not sure what he was getting at.

'Prime City office space? The sort of office you could rent to a bank or a broking firm? An appreciating asset?' He shook his head. 'Appearances can be deceptive. It's worthless, Andrea. The whole building's fucked.' He gestured at the floor with his gun.

'The steel's corroding. It was built on the cheap and now the whole structure's almost ready to come down.'

Andy put a hand to her head. She was confused and finding it hard to breathe, as if something had been tightly wound around her chest.

'The people I work for bought the building last year.

They're Chinese -- they thought they were getting a good deal and they paid in cash. A lot of it was dirty money. Corruption.

Drugs. Triad money. Just over two hundred and fifty million pounds. Four hundred million dollars. The vendors were Russians,

but the Chinese didn't know that because the deal was 339 STEPHEN LEATHER handled by a German middleman. As soon as they handed over the money, the German disappeared. So did the Russians.'

'I don't understand,' said Andy. 'You're confusing me.'

'Try and focus, Andrea. They were conned. The Chinese were taken for a quarter of a billion pounds. What they thought was a solid-gold investment turned into a millstone around their necks, if you'll excuse the mixed metaphors.'

'Didn't they get it surveyed?'

'Oh, yes. By a partner in a big City firm. He's disappeared,

too.'

'So what's that got to do with all this?'

The man shook his head impatiently. 'The building has to come down, Andrea. It has to be rebuilt, which will cost almost as much as they've already spent. And since the meltdown in Asia, they don't have the money. But if it should be destroyed in a terrorist bombing, then the government becomes the insurer of last resort. They get paid in full.'

Andy stood transfixed, the remote control in her outstretched hand. 'That's what this is all about? You took my daughter. You kidnapped me. You're going to kill God knows how many people . . . just for money?'

The man laughed harshly. 'For a lot of money, Andrea. A hell of a lot of money.' He nodded at Green-eyes. 'That's not why she's doing it, of course. She wants revenge. But she's getting paid, too. So, if you do push that button, if you do set the bomb off, you'll be doing us all a favour. The Chinese'11 get their money back, she'll get her revenge on the country that killed her brother, and I'll be paid in full.'

'Except you'll be dead, of course.'

'What if I were to offer you money, Andrea? What if I were to give you half a million dollars? What's that in your money?

More than three hundred thousand pounds? I'll give you three hundred thousand pounds to put down that remote control and walk out of here.'

Green-eyes turned angrily to the man in the ski mask.

'What? You can't be serious.'

'It's none of your business.'

'It's totally my business.' said Green-eyes.

'You work for me. If I want to hire Andrea, that's up to me.'

Green-eyes walked over to the window and stood staring out over the City, her arms folded across her chest.

'Haifa million dollars, Andrea.'

'No.'

'How much, then? How much to buy your cooperation?'

'I want my daughter back. And I want to go home.'

The man stared at her in silence. He clicked his fingers at Green-eyes and she looked over her shoulder at him. He clicked his fingers again. 'Give me the phone,' he said. Green-eyes handed over the mobile and he used his thumb to tap out a number. 'I'm calling your daughter,' he said.

Andy narrowed her eyes, suspecting that he was trying to trick her. She held the remote control above her head again.

The phone started to ring and the man put it to his face,

keeping the gun pointed at Andy's chest.

Patsy and Hetherington looked at each other in astonishment.

'Do you believe that?' asked Hetherington. 'That's what this is all about? An insurance job?'

'There's no reason for him to lie,' said Patsy. 'He doesn't know we're listening in.'

'It's hard to credit. That they'd be prepared to kill so many people for money.'

Patsy shrugged. 'I've heard of shipowners scuttling ships with their crews on board to get insurance. This is just on a bigger scale, I suppose.'

'I didn't follow what he said,' said Martin. 'They're blowing the building up for money?'

'They want to make it look like a terrorist incident,' said Patsy. 'If the building was uninhabitable because of structural faults, the owners would have to bear the cost. As they've recently acquired it, they probably haven't got insurance. But if it's damaged in a terrorist bomb, then ultimately the government 34i STEPHEN LEATHER will pay. If what he says is true, the Chinese investors would get their money back in full.'

'So now it's over. We know what he's up to. He can't get away with it. All you have to do is to tell them that and they'll give up. They have to.'

'It's not as simple as that,' said Patsy. 'They've got a fourthousand-pound-bomb over there.'

'But don't you see,' pleaded Martin. 'If you tell them we know what they're up to, they have to give up.'

Over the loudspeaker, they heard the man call out to Andy.

'They're on the line,' he said.

'I want to talk to her,' said Andy. Her voice sounded strained, as if she was close to tears.

'We should go in now,' said Captain Payne.

'No!' said Martin. 'Wait until she speaks to Katie.' He looked at Patsy. 'They'll be monitoring the call, right?'