Dark Spies by Matthew Dunn Read Free Book Online

you?”
    “No.”
    “Likely to?”
    “I sincerely doubt he would.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because he’ll assume my phone is being monitored by people like you.”
    “Doesn’t matter. We will inevitably get him.”
    “Inevitably?” What did Alistair think of Parker? Honest face, no anger or hostility in his voice, instead his tone was quiet and resigned, and a moment ago he’d made the briefest of glances at Jellicoe with an expression that said he was uncomfortable with what the senator was saying, or with the situation, or with Jellicoe himself. Alistair decided it was all of those things. But Parker was here because he followed orders. Despite being one of the eight directors who reported to the Director of the CIA, and despite his good nature, he was a weak bureaucrat, a plodder. “Patrick and I have direct lines to our respective premiers, men who’ve always been very keen to ensure that Mr. Cochrane’s free to do his work. Because we’ve no means of getting hold of Cochrane, you’d be doing us a courtesy by inevitably capturing him. But that’s where it will end. We’ll whisk him away and put him back in the field.”
    “No you won’t.” This came from Charles Sheridan.
    “And why not?”
    “We’ll come to that.”
    “Oh good, because I do like suspense.” His eyes took in everything he could see of Sheridan. Tall man, early forties, a full head of brown hair that was short at the sides and back, probably meant he was ex-military, the type who thinks that all civilians need a few toughen-you-up years of national service so that the world can be a more disciplined and simpler place. Though they were physically entirely different, his expression matched the hostility of Jellicoe’s, and so far he’d not looked once at the senator; instead his eyes were fixed on the men before him. Sheridan completely agreed with everything Jellicoe represented in this room. He was his ally. No, that was an overly generous assessment. There was no doubt that Jellicoe was running the show, and that meant Sheridan was his pawn.
    Pig. Plodder. Pawn.
    Alistair wondered which of the three men would speak next.
    It was the pig. “We need to know more about the task force you guys run.”
    Patrick exclaimed, “No fucking way!”
    Alistair glanced at his colleague. Oh dear God. His face was flushed, his eyes wide, and the sinews in his neck were jutting out like knife blades. When Patrick became like this, it usually meant he wanted to rip someone’s head off and eat it. “What my friend means is that in order for us to comply with your request, we’d need written clearance to do so and from the highest authority.”
    “And that authority ain’t going to give you clearance, Jellicoe!” Patrick was leaning forward.
    Alistair patted a hand on Patrick’s leg, knowing it would only further fuel his colleague’s anger—anger that was useful in situations like this. “Gentlemen, let’s sort this out amicably. I’ve had a rather long and turbulent flight to get here to understand why you’re on the warpath because my officer wanted to kill enemy number one when he had him in his sights, and because in killing Antaeus’s men he breached Project Ferryman protocols. What is Ferryman?”
    Jellicoe and Sheridan laughed, and Parker averted his gaze.
    “Written authorizations or otherwise, you can’t expect us to tell you anything about our task force and the nature of Cochrane’s work if we don’t understand the implications of his actions in Norway. What is Ferryman?”
    The senator composed himself. “I’ll tell you exactly what Project Ferryman is. It’s something much more important than your shitty little special relationship task force, or your loose-cannon lone wolf for that matter.”
    Patrick leaned back. “Thankfully, the president and British prime minister don’t share that view.”
    Jellicoe seemed unflustered by the comment. “You think so?” He loosened the knot of his tie, undid the top button