Hunter Killer - Alex King Series 12 (2021), A BATEMAN [urban books to read TXT] 📗

Iranian friend has been their eyes and their ears and contacted them with the coordinates, and now their operation is underway…”

“Look!” Grainger pointed. “There are clamps on the deck of the larger sub, that smaller one must have hitched a ride.”

King nodded. “Keep back and dim the lights. Military submarines don’t have windows like this one, windows can’t cope with depth charges or torpedoes, but that smaller sub will have cameras for sure. Launching from and docking to that large submarine will necessitate the need for cameras, so they could very well see us right now.”

Grainger killed the lights and switched to a red beam that barely reached the large submarine but gave them an ambient light from which they could make out the hulk of the British vessel.

“That smaller sub, do you think it would be large enough to ferry cruise missiles between the two?”

Grainger considered this for a moment and shrugged. “That would depend upon the size of the missiles. How big are they?”

“About fifteen feet long and as wide as this…” King made a ring with his arms until his fingertips touched.”

Grainger thought for a moment then said, “Two at a time, perhaps. It would be a tight squeeze, but I think it would be feasible. Time consuming, certainly.” He paused. “How many do they have on board?”

“At least thirty.”

“Can they do a lot of damage?”

“They flatten large buildings. Like the bunker busters you will have seen during the Gulf War footage on the news,” King replied. “But there has been a development…”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“Continued Russian belligerence dictated that the cruise missiles were armed with American nuclear warheads. They are what is known as dial-a-yield, so can be adjusted to flatten say a military base, or at maximum yield, then a town of small city.”

“And the Iranians don’t yet have nuclear weapons,” Grainger said sardonically. “But I guess they do, now…”

“Not if I can help it,” replied King. “Get us back to the surface.”

“It’s going to take an hour,” he replied. “The pressure can’t be ignored.”

The longest hour of my life… King thought.

Chapter Forty

 

Lake Como, Italy

 

Sally-Anne Thorpe looked at the monitor and frowned, shaking her head incredulously. Captain Durand looked up at her from his seat, his expression quizzical. Neil Ramsay shrugged when she caught his eye.

“You’ve gone ahead and made arrangements for the meet?” she asked, taken aback.

“Fortez knows he’s meeting a woman,” Durand frowned. “You knew that.”

Thorpe nodded as she straightened up and looked at Ramsay. “I could have gone in her place.”

“Caroline met with Noventa, it was the natural progression of the operation for her to arrange to meet Fortez,” replied Ramsay somewhat curtly, as was his manner.

“But we’ve monitored the email accounts and he did not make further contact until he typed what we told him to say.”

“We did not monitor Noventa’s mobile phone between the café and his home. If he spoke with Fortez, then he could have described Caroline to him.” Ramsay paused. “Caroline is comfortable with doing it. I don’t see a problem.”

“And when was this decided?”

Ramsay shrugged. “We had a conversation this morning while you were out. I trust Caroline and she knows what to do. You’re an investigator and legal expert, Sally-Anne. You’ve never been undercover. It doesn’t state so in your file, at least.”

Thorpe spun around as Caroline entered and said, “Is this down to you? You send me out for your medical supplies, and then work on everybody here?”

“We had a chat,” said Caroline shrugging off the woman’s accusing manner. “I thought you were only too happy to help me earlier…”

“Bullshit!” snapped Thorpe. “You set this up! You got me to collect the painkillers and your bloody walking stick while you manipulated the rest of the team!”

“Firstly, it’s a crutch, not a bloody walking stick…”

“And secondly?” she fumed.

“Secondly, can I assume the honeymoon is now over?”

“Piss off, you conniving little bitch!” Thorpe snapped.

“Sticks and stones, luv…”

“Ladies…” Neil Ramsay stepped forwards and made himself a buffer between the two women. “Let’s not lose focus. Caroline is more than capable of getting Fortez to admit everything for the recording. The camera is in place, then once we have everything we need, Sally-Anne, you can make the arrest with Captain Durand.” He paused. “Durand, you will read the man his rights using your position with Interpol Special Operations, before we take him across the Swiss border.”

“Sure thing,” the Frenchman said, his amiability suggesting he had tried to lighten the mood.

“See?” Caroline said, staring directly into Thorpe’s eyes and giving her nowhere to go. “You can have the official glory, while I do the dirty work and take all the risks. You should be more than happy with that…”

Chapter Forty-One

 

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

 

Robert Lefkowitz wiped his brow with the clean handkerchief and went to tuck it into his pocket, but the nurse reached around and took it from him, leaving a clean one on the table in front of him. The drip had been removed and both men opposite seemed relieved, as if experiencing the man’s relief on his behalf, but Lefkowitz knew it was just that the treatment was a reminder of their own mortality and it had made them uncomfortable. Fools. They worked in an agency where death was merely part and parcel of what they did, but still they had not become used to the idea that death had neither prejudice nor mercy. The inevitability of time was something they still thought they could disregard. Lefkowitz was no longer scared of death. He would welcome it when he was ready, but not before. There were matters to attend to, cases to close. Only when he had secured his legacy would he give up the fight.

“Their orders