“It would take you out of the line of fire.”
“I’ve been in the line of fire since I graduated Sandhurst. The queen isn’t in charge of the UMG, sir. You already cleared me to fight in London, and Murphy hasn’t left English soil yet. Keep me in the field.”
Chapman’s expression remained impossible to read for a few more seconds before he gave a slight nod. “If they leave London, we’ll reassess.”
“Still no luck in tracking down the location of the Splice lab, sir?” Jamie asked.
“Finn had no information on that, which makes us believe the buy still hasn’t happened.”
“But it will,” Samaira said. “The Russians haven’t been as active in pursuing it, which means the Reborn IRA is still the favored choice for Bennett.”
“Any other criminal organizations angling to buy?” Kyle wanted to know.
“Some,” Chapman replied as he flicked his fingers against the screen, sending more data to everyone’s terminals. “We’re monitoring every interested party, but the Reborn IRA has ties to Bennett the others don’t. We need them to lure Bennett into the open.”
“Do you really think they will now since they know we’re hunting them?” Abigail asked, chin propped in one hand and a slightly murderous look in her eyes.
“Never underestimate the lure of money,” Jamie said. “Bennett might have tapped offshore accounts before going on the run last year, but it won’t last, not if he needs to keep on the move. He won’t stop at selling the Splice lab. He has other information from his years spent in the CIA.”
“Your country has to operate on the assumption it’s all compromised,” Tariq said.
Jamie nodded, mouth set in a grim line. “Believe me, we are. But we still want him off the field and back in our custody.”
Liam’s gaze darted to Kyle for a brief second, knowing that this fight was personal for them in a way that wasn’t just about their country’s safety. “Are you bringing in MI6 or MI5 for this search?”
Chapman raised an eyebrow. “This is a metahuman problem, and we, as the agency that deploys them, will handle it.”
Political infighting was always sonice.
“Where do you want us?” Samaira asked.
Chapman started sectioning off the map, and Liam focused on the information at hand and what the UMG needed him to do.
* * *
Enfield wasa middling borough of Greater London once known for its manufacturing hub that had produced all sorts of things over the centuries. Its fortunes waxed and waned with the highs and lows of a production economy that was like a lover one could never completely walk away from. These days, people called it home in the shadows of closed manufacturing plants and empty warehouses, the latest bust having happened a generation ago and recovery still years off.
It was a far cry from the heart of London, with all its glitz and fast-paced glamor. Liam could see, in the empty corners of the megacity and the country as a whole, how criminals could find homes in the hearts of people who had nothing left to lose.
The warehouse he was clearing, along with Tariq and a team of UMG agents, had looked empty from the outside, but inside was a different story entirely. The dust was only thick in the corners, and there was evidence of equipment having been stored there that Liam wasn’t keen on. A stockpiling of long guns and bombs was never a good sign, and he doubted Murphy’s people would’ve been storing anything other than dangerous weaponry.
All of which had been hastily moved within the last twenty-four hours or so, possibly before that. Liam would wager the Reborn IRA had started moving inventory and people from one site to a new one before the attack at Ascot. Liam hated when people were smart enough to compensate for government interference.
“I don’t think they left anything behind,” Tariq said as they let their rifles lead them through the half-empty warehouse.
“I think you’re right,” Liam replied.
After arriving at the location via aerial transport, they’d scanned the warehouse for heat signatures and any signs of explosives before entering. The police had secured a perimeter around the warehouses they were searching, intent on keeping out any curious people who didn’t have the right to be there. When the UMG worked in London, people were always curious, and sometimes that curiosity got onlookers killed.
Midday and the place was dimly lit, the grimy windows shaded dark, and only half the overhead lights were active. The warehouse had seen better days, but the Reborn IRA had still found a use for it. Liam hand-signaled the direction he was going to investigate, leaving Tariq to deal with the other portion of the warehouse. There wasn’t much left for them to search but they still had a job to do.
Liam worked his way through the area, searching for any evidence the Reborn IRA might’ve left behind. Unfortunately, they had managed to evacuate with all of their supplies. Liam came up empty-handed, and he wasn’t the only one.
“Nothing,” Tariq said when they met back up ten minutes later.
“Let’s head back out. This isn’t the only warehouse we need to clear,” Liam said, already heading for the exit.
They were nearly to the wide bay doors when an explosion rocked the air and ground. The windows on the right side of the warehouse blew inward, plas-glass shards raining down on them as they ran for the exit.
