Читать книгу Homegrown Hero: A funny and addictive thriller for fans of Informer - Khurrum Rahman, Khurrum Rahman - Страница 13

4

Thames House

At 12 Millbank – Thames House‚ MI5’s headquarters – Teddy Lawrence‚ a young MI5 officer‚ knocked and entered the minimalist office of John Robinson‚ Assistant Director of Counter Terrorism Operations. It was the first time they had met since the foiled terrorist attack on Oxford Street on Boxing Day.

Lawrence had climbed the ranks rapidly‚ due largely to their close working relationship. Robinson had seen in him a kindred spirit‚ whilst Lawrence saw opportunity.

Robinson had lost weight everywhere but on his stomach. His sweat-stained white shirt hung loose over his shoulders. Uneven growth on a face that managed to be both pale and ruddy red. Alcohol probably‚ stress definitely‚ reasoned Lawrence. Whatever it was‚ Robinson looked like shit and no longer like a leader of men.

Lawrence‚ despite what they were facing‚ had kept up appearances. Seven fitted suits for seven days. Monday was a charcoal grey three piece. He’d been in the office for nearly three minutes without Robinson having uttered a word. Lawrence watched him standing at the floor to ceiling window‚ staring out onto the stunning views of the Thames as though the answer would float to him in a message in a bottle. They had both received the same brief that morning.

The Teacher was no closer to being located.

After the London attack‚ The Teacher was quick to go under‚ hidden away in the vast wild lands‚ somewhere in Pakistan or Afghanistan‚ unable to lead the might of Ghurfat-al-Mudarris. Still‚ the attacks occurred across Europe; smaller in scale but with a frightening frequency. Despite The Teacher’s absence‚ his work continued.

Robinson mumbled something‚ but Lawrence couldn’t quite hear as Robinson still had his back to him. Lawrence hesitated before asking‚ ‘Sir. Can you repeat that?’

‘Javid Qasim‚’ Robinson said‚ ‘is the key.’

Lawrence now understood why Robinson had his back to him. It would have been an embarrassment for him having to backtrack‚ and he probably didn’t want it seen in his face. It had been Robinson who’d terminated Qasim’s contract – a rash decision‚ considering what he’d achieved for them in such a short period of time. From Qasim’s intelligence alone‚ they’d narrowly avoided a multiple gun attack in the heart of London. Just as vital‚ Qasim had revealed The Teacher’s locations and hideouts‚ along with a detailed description of the man that the world’s authorities had‚ previously‚ had no knowledge of. After that it had been out of Qasim’s hands. It should have been enough. Yet they had still failed to locate and capture The Teacher.

Robinson concluded there were doubts about the legitimacy of the intelligence‚ and he’d been quick to voice his judgement. It didn’t sit comfortably with him that Qasim clearly had mixed emotions in what was asked of him. Robinson refused to let anyone who was sympathetic to the beliefs of Ghurfat-al-Mudarris continue working for the Secret Service. It had muddied the waters further when Qasim’s relationship with The Teacher came to light.

At the time‚ and despite advice‚ Robinson could only see one way‚ when he should have been seeing it the other way.

‘Javid Qasim?’ Lawrence questioned‚ though he had already formed the conversation in his head.

Robinson finally turned and locked eyes with Lawrence. ‘We can still use him.’

Lawrence nodded. ‘I’ll talk to him. Get him back on board.’

From the drinks cabinet‚ Robinson poured himself a large whiskey and a smaller one for Lawrence. He strode across and handed the drink over and sat down opposite him. Robinson leant back‚ an arm draped across the Italian leather two-seater that he’d insisted on having in his office‚ and crossed his legs. The arrogance that had been missing‚ as they repeatedly failed to capture The Teacher‚ was returning.

‘No‚’ Robinson said. ‘That’s not what I had in mind.’