Pacific Force by Blaze Ward

Author:Blaze Ward
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781644703342
Publisher: Knotted Road Press

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

Grant kept a low profile as the truck pulled into a warehouse and someone already inside closed the door behind them. Steve at least had the courtesy to look chagrined as everyone got out of the vehicle and followed the portly man in the striped suit and raspy wheeze over to an area that had been temporarily configured as a command post. Or somebody’s idea of what one looked like, probably from some movie he watched.

There was a map covering the ring roads around Birmingham. Another showing the smaller downtown area that was being rebuilt. One with all of England, marked with obscure red symbols: crosses, circles, squares, starbursts.

Grant couldn’t find a legend anywhere but supposed that he didn’t rate that sort of security clearance with these people. He could have told them otherwise, but that had been several years ago and, he didn’t know anyone in the present space except for Steve.

The Undersecretary made a production of checking his watch as he turned to spear Grant with the sort of hard eye the man probably usually reserved for the dessert cart.

“Where is he?” the Undersecretary demanded.

Grant pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and checked the time. And to see if he had any voicemails or texts from anyone who might have remembered something or told a friend.

The web of connections he had was huge. Usually passive, but at a time like this he had thrummed it pretty hard in order to nail down a bombmaker in London with bad friends.

There were others out there.

“You told him seventeen minutes from now,” Grant replied politely.

He already knew how pissed Jake was, just from the previous phone call. And for knowing the guy since they were fourteen.

“I expect better service,” the Undersecretary huffed.

Steve happened to be standing beyond the man. Behind him in such a way that Grant and a few others could see the grimace of pain that flashed over the spy’s face at those words.

But the Undersecretary didn’t live in their world. He lived in a place where tea was predictable, and you could be assured of the proper dill pickle wedges perfectly chilled and possibly hand-dried before serving.

Grant hadn’t even had time to get a pasty from the corner shop before Steve and friends had showed up for him this morning, but he wasn’t going to say anything just yet.

If anything, he might need to play good cop with what was coming up.

Or not.

“Sir, we’ve identified their vehicle,” a woman spoke up from a table that had been partly hidden by map stands. Army green jacket with her hair pulled back in a bun. Quite cute. “Inbound. ETA three minutes.”

Grant just smiled politely, rather than suggest any sort of ‘I told you so’ with his body language.

There was a coffee urn close. One of those nasty, upright silver trash cans that held coffee long past the point that it was still viable. Grant ignored everyone and went for coffee. And donuts in a picked over box that was probably for the field techs.

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