Page 39 of 72 Hours

I calmed my breathing; I adjusted my sweats. I cursed to myself in every language I’d ever picked up.

And then the cell phone rang again, a shrill buzz in the distant corner of the trailer.

​​​Chapter 16 – Wednesday 00:05

I stumbled up from my bed, but Niall had already switched on the lamp in the living room and had the cell to his ear. “Brad,” he mouthed to me, his eyes bright and wary. I nudged my way up against him, all previous touches forgotten as I struggled to hear the call for myself. Niall flipped on the loudspeaker on the handset so we could both listen.

“Where are you? Brad? Are you safe?”

Brad’s mumble stuttered through a fair amount of static interference and was at uneven volume, like he was out of breath. “Niall? Where are you?”

Niall’s eyes flashed to my face, far too close to his for anyone’s comfort. “I’m with Tanner.”

“With...” crackle “...ackay?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.” That bit was as clear as if he stood beside us. “Have you spoken to... dith?”

“No, we—”

But Brad’s voice hurried on. “...tell her I’m on... way back now. I found the address, I found where our communica... have been... iverted to... week or so, maybe. But it was... danger... apped....”

“What?” I grabbed at the phone, trying to wrest it from Niall’s steel grip. “What’s happened?”

“... booby-trapped,” came Brad’s familiar voice, still mangled through the poor reception. “The place was booby-trapped.”

I glanced at Niall. His narrowed eyes looked back at me.

“For God’s sake, Brad,” he snapped. “My home’s been blown up and Tanner’s been shot. Tell us how you are, and where you are!”

There was an exclamation from the other end of the line, though it may just have been the coughing of a chronic connection. Then a pause. Next time Brad spoke, his words were much clearer. He’d obviously stopped in his mad flight and found a place of better reception. With the loudspeaker on, we could both hear him well. “Sorry guys. That’s better.” He gave a short laugh. “Never thought we’d need to use these numbers, did we?”

Niall didn’t sound like he was in the mood for Brad’s dry humour. “You said booby-trapped. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” Brad sounded dismissive. “Fairly amateur stuff, some loosened floorboards on the stairs. An electrical cable run across them, to catch me if I hadn’t watched my step. Definitely a deliberate action, so it looks like I found the right place.” I could see Niall itching for more details, but the specifics of a trap wouldn’t have been of interest to Brad. It would’ve just been a hurdle to overcome, not a source of professional fascination. His voice became more excited as he described the trail he’d been following. “I guess no one had the time to follow my notes, which is a little surprising, but anyway, I knew it’d be quicker if I went myself. I tracked the address down through the ISP and it looked like someone hid out there quite recently. The computer equipment had been smashed, but it had probably been used to divert all our e-mail, as well as hacking in. But I’m afraid there were no other clues. I’d caught the communications breach fairly quickly, of course, but it also looked like they cleared out pretty fast.”

“Where was the address?”

“It was out by the airport. It’s an empty house we’d considered ourselves for surveillance during the early stages of Mission Dove. I remember Simon asking me to look into the local communications network. It’s near that club where Niall was hurt, where that politician got his kicks until we outted the sick bastard.” Brad had a refreshing lack of respect for public figures who misused their position.

“So the details would have been on file?” Niall asked. “On Simon’s files?” I glared at him, but I was hanging on Brad’s reply, just like he was.

“Yes,” came the answer. Brad sounded cautious. “Hey, are you guys on to something? Because if you are—”

“No,” I said swiftly, leaning further towards the mouthpiece so he could hear me more clearly. “Nothing specific. We’ll talk it through with you when we’re all together. What’s important now is that we’re all safe.” I felt Niall shift awkwardly beside me, but he didn’t add anything.

“There was a smashed laptop there too.” Brad sounded puzzled. “Like the ones we issued for the Team. Guess it’s a popular enough model.” We were quiet, and he continued. “Anyway, I rescued some e-mail records, some of them showing that encrypted e-mail address I picked up on earlier transmissions.”

“Tanner’s working on that too,” Niall said. “So now we have a place that the attackers have been using, plus a link to their e-mail. Do you have any ideas as to an identity?”

“I want to talk to Judith....” Brad’s voice was fading again, losing both volume and clarity. “Hell, I heard about the bomb at the Westbridge block, but Tanner shot? What’s been happening?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Niall said tersely. “We’re sheltering here for the moment. Tanner’s fine now, anyway. Who told you about the bomb at my place?”

I frowned at him—who the hell was he to say I was fine? —but it took a few more seconds for the penny to drop as to why he was questioning Brad like that. When Simon visited the trailer, he’d told me that Brad left the Department shortly before the explosion, and implied they’d lost contact with him soon after that.

Brad was already replying. “I spoke to Simon just after the attack. I thought I’d better check in, and I caught him just after it happened. He told me Joe was injured, and he was planning to take Niall to a safe place. I haven’t been able to reach him since—his normal cell’s been cut off for some reason—and then I lost touch with Judith as well. I’m on my way back to base to discuss it with her. Is Simon still there with you two?”