‘We’re all doomed,’ she said.
Chapter 56
‘It’s more than a credible threat, sir; I think there’s now an inevitability to it,’ Poe said.
Poe was speaking to Edward van Zyl, the director of intelligence and his ultimate superior. He’d called him on his personal mobile and van Zyl had known him long enough to know he only ever did that when it was serious.
‘UKPPS are happy with his security,’ van Zyl said.
‘I’m not. My FBI contact says the Curator might have been behind that death the US Marshals had in their witness protection programme last year. If he can breach their systems, he can certainly breach ours.’
Melody Lee had said no such thing. Poe didn’t like lying to the director but it was the lie he needed to hear. He knew that van Zyl wanted to help and Poe’s job was to give him the cover to do so.
Van Zyl didn’t respond.
‘I also think we have a unique opportunity,’ Poe continued, ‘not only to catch a very dangerous man, but also to elevate the NCA’s standing in law enforcement globally.’
‘Appealing to my vanity, Poe?’
‘If I thought it would work on you, I would, sir. No, but apart from my source, the Yanks don’t believe he exists. If we can prove he does, not only will we have one up on the FBI, they’ll be desperate to speak to him. It’d be nice to have them owing us a favour for once.’
Like anything else, international law enforcement worked on relationships and favours as much as it did protocols and intelligence-sharing agreements. An FBI favour in van Zyl’s back pocket would be a valuable thing to have later down the line.
‘I’m listening,’ he said.
‘We get the name and we go in gently. Set up covert surveillance and wait for the Curator to find him.’
‘We can’t leak Atkinson’s name, Poe.’
‘We won’t need to, sir. If the Curator is half the adversary I think he is, it won’t take him long to get it.’
‘Honestly, Poe,’ Bradshaw grumbled, ‘when are you going to realise that vegetables won’t kill you?’
‘It’s only a sandwich,’ he protested. ‘And I need to build up my strength.’
‘It’s a loaf of bread stuffed with meatballs and cheese.’
They’d gone to a local café while they waited for van Zyl. Bradshaw had ordered the five-bean salad and he’d ordered the meatball sub, extra Monterey Jack, extra jalapeños. He pulled out a bit of limp lettuce and held it up.
‘See, it’s got salad in it.’
Bradshaw put down her fork. She looked troubled.
‘DI Flynn was cross with me before, wasn’t she, Poe?’
‘She’s cross with everyone right now, Tilly. My advice is don’t worry about it. It’s a symptom of what she’s going through, not a reflection of what she thinks.’
Bradshaw thought about that for a moment then nodded decisively.
‘OK, I shan’t worry about it.’ She started eating again.
‘But you might want to stop asking her about her leaking …’
His phone rang. Van Zyl’s name was on the caller ID. He answered it.
‘Sir?’
‘Poe, how soon can you get to a secure laptop and an internet connection?’