Free Hunter by Chris Allen Page B

crew. Then she heard footsteps racing heavily on the decks. In a panicked moment, she clamped her eyes shut tight and pulled the towel over her head, just as she had done with the bed covers as a little girl when the thunder and lightning coming across Puget Sound became too much.
    Thinking of her father, Charly prayed through silent tears that the attackers wouldn't find her.

Chapter 15
    INTREPID HQ, BROADWAY, LONDON
    "Major Morgan is here, sir."
    "Thank you, Mrs Jolley," replied Davenport from his desk. "Send him in. Oh, and rustle up some coffee, please? We're going to need it."
    "On the way," she said.
    Margaret Jolley, the general's devoted personal assistant, withdrew from the doorway connecting her office to the chief's inner sanctum and ushered Morgan across the threshold.
    "Pull up a pew; I won't be a moment," Davenport said to Morgan.
    Morgan moved familiarly over to the old circular mahogany coffee table and, unbuttoning his jacket, dropped into a beautifully aged Chesterfield. Comfortable in the way men find firm, studded leather chairs comfortable, he waited dutifully as General Davenport made a final few taps on his computer keyboard. On the table he noticed a file with the title DEFENDER: 091012/43. "Defender" was the official Interpol designator for all Intrepid operations, and 091012 was the number allocated to the hunt for Drago. The numerals 43, pronounced four-three, were Morgan's official identifier and indicated that he was the agent leading the operation.
    "Right, that's done," said Davenport, stepping from  behind his desk, contemplatively gazing about the oak-paneled, volume-lined walls of his "war room". Framed parchments, awards, presentations and mementos adorned the room from which Davenport would launch his agents across the world. It was a room within which Morgan felt at ease. "I'm still interested in this informant, Lazarevic," Davenport said. "There's something not quite right there. Something I can't put my finger on."
    "Anything I can help with?"
    "No, you've got enough on your plate for now. And your appraisal of him, along with the video interview Mr Tappin conducted, has been most helpful. No, I'll get to the bottom of it. In fact, I have our new man, Hauptmann Braunschweiger, working on it for me. I want to give him a chance to fly his kite."
    Mrs Jolley returned with a tray containing cups and a pot of strong coffee.
    "Thank you, my dear. Very kind," said Davenport, somewhat absently. "Oh, would you ask Ms Haddad to hunt down my old case files from Bosnia? Archived among my personal files somewhere. I'd like to see her once she has them."
    "Of course." She gave them both a warm smile and left without another word, closing the door quietly behind her.
    "More developments, sir?" Morgan asked, pouring coffee for them both. Following the assassination of Judge de Villepin, he and Davenport had taken the first flight out of New York and spent the entire flight back to London working through the dozens of theories and various scenarios that could be ahead of them. By the time they'd landed, Interpol had already  confirmed via the joint Ryerson/Tappin interrogation of Lazarevic that Drago was behind the de Villepin murder and that there would almost certainly be more to come. Exactly what would happen next was unknown. One thing was certain though: the hunt for Drago was on. Morgan was already packed and ready to head to France - his bags were in his office. But somehow, by the look on Davenport's face, he guessed the situation had changed.
    "Yes, but not what you're thinking, I'm afraid." Morgan watched as his chief, hands in pockets, strolled to the far corner of the office and removed a framed photograph from a shelf. In a private moment of reflection, Davenport looked at the photo for some time before joining Morgan at the circular table. He handed the frame to Morgan and picked up a coffee. "See any familiar faces?"
    "Well, the tall one there on the left is you, sir," Morgan said,