London, England
The pilot taxied to a part of Heathrow Airport reserved for private international flights. Gerrit knew they were all carrying solidly built documents that would support their aliases through Security and Customs.
Still, he was on edge when these documents and their faces became subjected to vigorous facial-recognition programs and document searches. Joe had assured him that between his security measures, his contacts inside certain federal agencies, and Alena’s expertise, these documents would hold up under intense scrutiny. However, Joe had been captured by Kane, somehow alerted to Joe’s illegal entry into this country after Redneck sent a warning. There had to have been a breakdown, and right now they were going in blind. There was no time to back out and try another approach.
Joe’s life depended upon them. No second chances when time was a matter of life and death.
The pilot cleared the cabin and made his way toward them. “There is someone from security coming on board. Says he needs to speak to one of you.”
Gerrit looked at the pilot. “Do you know who he wanted to speak to?”
The pilot jutted his chin toward Gerrit. “He mentioned your name.”
So the pilot knew who he was? Jack had not mentioned that he gave out Gerrit’s real identity. “Did you get this guy’s name?”
The pilot shook his head and returned to the cockpit. Willy looked at him. “Shall I let him in?”
Gerrit shrugged. “What choice do we have?”
A moment later, Willy popped open the exterior door and pushed outward and a power-operated ramp edged to the opening. Heavy footsteps came up the ramp and a familiar face popped through the hatch.
James Stafford, MI6 agent from Vienna.
“Gerrit, rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated.” Stafford stepped into the cabin, grinning at the expression on Gerrit’s face. “Back from the colonies, Doctor?” To the others, he said, “James Stafford, of her Majesty’s Secret Service. At your beck and call.”
Gerrit felt peculiar. The last time he met Stafford, the British agent had not been cordial. “I thought you worked for-”
“Lawton?” Stafford laughed. “He just thinks I work for him. Like I said last time, Gerrit, I work for a lot of people. At least I let them think that. Been working with Beck Malloy and Joe O’Rourke for years whenever they come over to my side of the pond. Come, let me help you get through security.”
Gerrit and his team grabbed their belongings and followed the muscular man off the plane. They walked across fog-drenched pavement and approached a dreary gray building with a red brick facade. Stafford punched in a security code and opened a heavy metal door, rusted hinges squeaking.
Stafford gestured them inside. “I’ve arranged the VIP tour for our guests in the most exquisite part of the terminal.”
They shuffled across an almost empty warehouse, their footsteps echoing through the building. Passing through another ancient door, they emerged on the far side along a roadway where a single vehicle sat parked, running. Under most circumstances, airport security would be all over this vehicle.
Stafford pointed toward it. “Here’s our ride. I’ve got you set up for the night in a house we maintain on the outskirts of the city. Tomorrow, we’ll get whatever you need before your visit up north.”
Gerrit raised an eyebrow. “You know about that?”
Stafford gave him an offended look. “You think I don’t know what you Americans are up to on my own island? Ever since that trouble we had with you colonists, we’ve always made it our business to keep tabs on you rebels.”
Gerrit smiled. “And I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I don’t, Doc. We just happen to be on the same side in this fight.” The British agent grinned before opening the driver’s door. “Climb on in, everyone. On our way to the safe house, you can fill me in on what I need to know.”
A gray, blustery sky greeted them the next morning. Gerrit was one of the first to rise, quietly opening the front door, stepping out on the front porch. A cold biting wind forced him back inside. He closed the door and made his way to the kitchen.
Stafford was there, making tea and coffee. “What’s your pleasure, Gerrit?”
“Coffee, please.”
The British agent handed him a cup and saucer. “I made some calls last night after our planning session. I got us a lift-a helicopter-to Harrogate in about two hours. I know time is of the essence.”
“Can you tell me anything about what we’re going up against?”
Stafford stirred his cup of tea. “I know George Lawton made several trips to Kane’s headquarters in Harrogate. Been keeping tabs on the two of them. Even followed my boss up there one time to see what he was up to.”
“Lawton doesn’t know about you helping us?”
“Man, if he did, Kane would have his hooks into you faster than you could sneeze. Malloy wanted this handled discreetly. That’s what I’m doing. On a need-to-know basis. Now, regarding what you might encounter, there’s a security net set up around the place. Infrared cameras, laser trip wires, and a security team-”
“Any idea of their strength? How many at the compound?”
The agent took a sip of tea. “Not sure how many. And…” Stafford grimaced “I am not sure how many bodies I can give you for this detail. The chaps I’d normally pick have been called out for duty elsewhere. In the last twenty-four hours.”
Gerrit raised his eyebrows. “Last twenty-four hours?”
“I know. What a coincidence.”
“Any chance Lawton is trying to screw up this operation? Kane put out the word?”
Stafford shrugged and set his cup and saucer down. “Thought we covered our tracks pretty well, but this…” The agent stood. They heard someone walking around upstairs. Alena and Willy must be awake.
“How many people can you give me, Stafford?”
Stafford grimaced. “You’re looking at him. Me, a chopper and cars to get us in range, and any weapons we need.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” Gerrit tried to hide his disappointment as he recalled firsthand the fortress they would have to hit. His team and Stafford seemed woefully outgunned. There was no more time to think this out.
They had to go in now.