Page 43 of 72 Hours

“Got here early this morning. He told me he spoke to you on the way.”

“And Judith’s there as well?”

“She’s also on her way, driving over with Cissy. We’ll use this place as a base for the moment. It’s well protected. We’ll gather all the Team members here and consolidate our knowledge. Is Sutherland there?”

I sat up and stretched, rolling my legs over the side of the mattress. I’d spent the night in my clothes, and although my wound was feeling much better, the muscles of my arm had stiffened up. And I’d probably been snoring—my mouth felt as if I’d been eating damp, rotting leaves all night and the skin on my cheeks felt tight. All in all, I was less than vibrant. “He’s still asleep. Tell me what you’ve discovered.”

Joe was silent for a moment, and I could just picture the look on his face, cautious and ready to disapprove. It was almost a surprise when he finally did speak to me.

“There are several concerns that I have. All of the supplies were internal—the poison, the explosives, the fuses. Even the packaging.”

“Internal? You mean from the Team’s own suppliers?”

“Indeed. To the very same specification. One of the fuses only came into our catalogue at the beginning of Mission Dove. It’s very new, and was offered solely due to the links Judith has forged with the development team. I mean, it’s not publicly available anywhere else yet. Either I’m leaping to conclusions, or this has serious security implications. I also need to talk to Simon about it, to discuss the control of access to our equipment and stores.”

“Yes,” I said carefully. “You do. He’s not there yet?”

There was another pause. For the first time I could hear medical equipment beeping in the background, and distant voices echoing off plain, high hospital ceilings. “No. No one can reach him, it seems. MacKay....” He coughed. “Maybe you and Sutherland have some views on all this that may help.”

“I’ll let you know when he gets up,” I said. “Maybe we ought to come down to the hospital too. You trust me to pass all this on to Niall without losing things in the translation?” I know I sounded rather petulant, but the conversation had reopened all the previous day’s worries, like raw wounds. As Joe said, things were moving on around us regardless.

“Yes.” His voice was calm and confident. “Of course I trust you to handle the information correctly. I always have trusted you, MacKay, else I couldn’t have worked with you in the first place.”

I was temporarily speechless. There was another beep at the hospital end of the conversation.

“How....” I paused, trying to make my dry morning mouth work properly. “So how are you, Joe?”

He was quiet for a heartbeat, too, and then he laughed—a short, humourless sound. “Reports of my one legged-ness have been greatly exaggerated.”

Fuck, was that a joke? From Lam? I couldn’t help myself, a smile of relief crept across my face. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Believe me, it’s good news to me too. It’s bad enough being out of action for several weeks, let alone giving someone the satisfaction of crippling me for life. How is Niall?”

“Not so bad,” I said. “Cuts, bruises, a little shock.”

“The truth, MacKay, not the patronising trivia the doctors feed you here.”

I swallowed. Like I once said, Lam was a fierce guy. “He’s tense. Reactions a little slowed, a wrenched hamstring. The hearing loss has passed.”

Joe was silent. I hung on to the cell, wondering what else he’d wanted to hear.

“And what about you, Mackay?”

Me? “What the fuck do you care about me, Joe? I’m not the one got buried under the rubble with you.”

“You were shot, Brad said. If we’re still all under threat, it’s important to know what status we all are.”

Status? “I’ll tell you what status we are,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I need a fucking good bath and a decent meal. I need eight hours’ sleep, minimum. My knees are skinned like a kid’s, and my left arm has a tapestry pattern on the skin that’s seriously going to restrict any future career as a nude model. On top of that, I need Niall Sutherland out of my hair and this homicidal lunatic caught and castrated, all before breakfast. That too much to ask?”

“A certain degree of stress, then,” said Joe’s steady voice. I could see him there in the hospital bed, leg up in traction, snapping orders to simpering, too-young nurses. “I warned Judith not to place Sutherland with you, but she seemed to think I wasn’t equipped at the time to make sensible decisions regarding strategy. I didn’t think either of you would benefit from meeting up again under such circumstances.”

“And you’d fucking know about that.” I was tempted to raise my voice, though I didn’t want to wake Niall. But I wanted Joe to get the hell off the line so I could have a proper think about his news. And I wanted a coffee. Or two. Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted.

“Yes, I would know,” he snapped back, startling me. “Listen to me, MacKay. I have an almost pathological dislike of discussing my personal life with anyone not directly involved, but I think it’s time that I was a little more forthcoming. Maybe my change of attitude is the result of lying under a heavy wooden door, surrounded by piles of smoking rubble and knowing that someone wanted it to be even more permanent.” He cleared his throat; his voice had become rather hoarse. “You were always very hostile towards my friendship with Niall, and for a while I couldn’t understand why. But someone has recently explained to me that you may have developed some personal—and obviously irrational—jealousy of us. I thought Niall would have made everything clear to you, but then he never seemed to be very objective in his actions towards you. If you had let me explain instead—”

“Now isn’t the time, Lam,” I ground out.

He’d ignored me; he was still talking. “I mean, I can see the attraction, if I were interested in men that way, because he has a good physique and a superb intelligence. His sense of loyalty and fine ethical standards would make him an excellent partner, personally as well as professionally.”