Chapter 55 - The Job

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PAUL SIGHED when he entered the lobby of the Strom Industries Canary Wharf building. Not two days ago, he had shot two people in this very space, but now not a single trace of the events remained.

He showed his Strom Holding credentials at the reception desk and was allowed to go through the barrier. When the elevator came, he pressed the button for the thirtieth floor. On the twelfth, the elevator stopped and, of all people, Isabelle entered the cage with two coworkers.

At first, neither knew what to do with the other. Then Paul tried to break the ice. "Hi, Isa. All well?"

Isabelle just turned her back, staring at the sliding door as she pressed the button for the twenty-fifth floor before folding her arms. Some other colleagues exchanged curious glances.

Paul sighed inwardly. Now, that had gone well. From ignorance to comeback to ignorance in less than forty-eight hours.

On the twenty-fifth floor, Isabelle and her colleagues left the cage without ever turning around again. Paul thought briefly of following her, talking to her. Yesterday, she had seen the other Paul—the not very likeable Paul. Which version was the real one?

Paul had to wait outside Daven's office for a minute. Then the door opened and Sam Lornsen stepped out. Both men shook hands.

"Give my thanks to Amy, she did a brilliant job. Tom, too," Lornsen said.

"So from the auditing side, you are fine with the outcome?" Paul asked.

"There will be a recommendation to improve certain security practices, but no citation in the public audit report. Which is a fair compromise."

"Thanks for your help, Sam."

Both said farewell and Paul went into the inner sanctum.

"Paul, have a seat. Anything to drink?" Daven asked before the London office assistant left them alone. Paul just shook his head. They were sitting in the abandoned office of George Kendall with whom the whole thing had taken off, one week before.

Both men studied each other for a minute. To Daven, Paul looked similar—but not the same—as he had the time they had first met, only five days earlier. On Monday when they had discussed the mission, Paul had seemed very cool and efficient. Receiving a mission. Today, on Friday, Paul still appeared calm, but he gave off the vibe of someone who had an atomic power station implanted in his chest. The underlying energy was almost tangible. Daven was not sure whether Paul himself had noticed.

"Our common friend General McAllister gave me a briefing this morning. In my time, I have never heard such an incredible tale. A spy sleeper from China or North Korea in our company, creating a hundred-million-dollar diversion to steal our most prized defense project from under our nose. Ending with we don't know how many people dead and the villain of the story taking a hostage on this very floor. And the bad guy left in a permanent coma in a high security facility with probably one more month to live."

Paul shrugged. "I agree, the stirring of the pot had gone haywire from the start. It was like there was a balloon hidden in the soup, exploding at the first indication of heat."

"They killed your old colleague, Mr. Brady. They almost killed you and your team. They almost killed your former girlfriend.. You prevented it."

Paul shook his head. "Not enough obviously, as Brady's death is forever."

"Don't think that you are to blame for that. This Asian agent was probably the murderer, or it could have been one of the guys you killed on Wednesday. Did General McAllister tell you the fate of Mr. Kendall?" Daven asked.

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