Part 86

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86

"An interview. You gave a fucking television interview."

His name was Paul Mott. It said so on his door. An ordinary name for an ordinary bloke, the boss who was yelling at me for fucking up this entire operation from start to finish. This time, in person and not by phone.

I failed. I didn't get all of them. Caitlin will never be safe and I'll never stop worrying.

"It won't be broadcast until Friday," I replied. "You still have time to pull the interview. You can contact the TV station and ask them not to air it." I kept my face blank, fighting a smile.

"Tell the news that they can't show an exclusive interview they paid for? Fuck, Nathan, they'd have a field day with that one." He glared at me. "How much did they offer you?"

I met his gaze squarely. "I don't know. I didn't ask for or accept any payment. I believe they offered money to Caitlin and she accepted it." Money to support her through her studies. A tiny amount of compensation for what she'd been through. Millions couldn't make up for her time in hell.

"What questions did they ask you?"

My breath hissed through my teeth. "They asked how I found her."

"And you said?" His voice was dead flat and dangerous.

"Nothing about the police, shots fired or even the other bloke on the beach. I didn't say which beach or how we knew she'd be there. I said I stumbled across the poor girl, lying on the sand, all alone."

"You know you can't be working for us when it airs. You're no use to us as some hero everyone's seen on TV. Any hope you had of continuing your contract died the minute you walked into that TV studio. And the moment you opened your mouth…you voided the contract, anyway."

My face was stony. "I was already photographed with her at the hospital. I had to go in, to find out what she'd say about what she remembered. She said…less than I did, and that's saying something. Half the interview is her describing her feelings about what they did to her! Fuck, that's something no one should hear. I answered questions to back up her vague story so they'd believe it. That's all." I looked at him, about as angry as I'd ever been at any boss, no matter what the job. "The contract ends tomorrow. Let me keep her safe for one more day." And try to find a way to get her to let me stay for longer than that.

"If it was anyone else, I'd say fix it or I'll fire you, for it's not fucking hard." His eyes burned with anger. "But you can finish up tomorrow, along with your contract. I don't want any more fuck-ups, so you'll be handing over all your gear – weapons, body armour, the works – today. I don't want to see you back here."

I nodded, knowing I couldn't ask for any more. "Do we have any more leads on the rest of them?" Please tell me so I know what to look out for to keep her safe, even when it's not my job any more.

He sighed. "Our team has been through Laura's house from one end to the other and nothing. We have her computer files, but no one's managed to break into those yet. The only records she kept on paper are in a diary she had in her handbag. She occasionally made reference to contact with someone she called 'Al Himar,' but we haven't managed to work out who he or they are. Once we have access to her computer, we'll call in the translators and see what they make of it. If we don't close this operation properly, we'll look like right asses."

"What if they come after Caitlin tomorrow when I'm unarmed?" I asked.

He snorted. "Let her take care of them. She has a pretty good track record so far – maybe better than yours."

I didn't laugh. I wanted to cry. Instead, I just tightened my jaw and left. I had a gun to hand in and a shitload of worry to carry, with nowhere to offload it. 

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