Free Don't... 04 Backlash by Jack L. Pyke

from the
window as Andrews pushed on through. Gray switched off the data on
display on the Durbar database and picked up Grantham’s note as
Andrews came over and took a seat.
    A bruise
lined the man’s lip and his usual light-frame glasses had been
replaced, no doubt a throwback from the latest case he worked. The
Westwood suit he wore added a few years to him, making him more
Jack’s age, when he was closer to Jan’s at twenty-eight. Andrews
had gone through a few MI5 departments already, the various bosses
shifting him around because there was “never something
quite right
about him.” He’d passed top of
his class at Oxford University, but he had that quiet bookworm
nature and look to him that had... worried some.
    It hadn’t
worried Gray.
    “You wanted to
see me?” Andrews gave a push up of his glasses, making him look
like he was more ready to take notes and type them up, over going
on a field operation.
    “Two things. Do
you remember Bhasin’s arrest over a year ago?”
    “The Indian
banker?” Andrews eased one leg across the other. “He was found with
a street value of heroin of over one million at one of his London
properties, and was charged under Anti-terrorism law with
Narco-terrorism. He sold the drugs here and sent the money back to
India.”
    “There had been
months of intelligence-led investigation that led up to the Counter
Terrorism Command raid in Bhasin’s South London apartment, mostly
run by Grantham.” He tapped the note on his desk. “But it was
Bhasin’s screw-up, or more his panic to get out of London, that
pushed Grantham to request the raid.”
    Andrews frowned
over his glasses. “India’s known for its narcotic traffic zones.
That’s nothing new. With his panic to get out of London, was he
tipped off about the raid?”
    “That was the
thought back then, but I received that off Grantham this
morning.”
    Andrews picked
up the Internal Note. “Another terrorist cell has migrated in the
past few days?”
    “Over the past
year that makes four known franchises to Al-Qaeda who have gone
underground, cutting ties and flying out to America. CIA, FBI, and
the Department for Homeland Security have been notified, with MI6
heading the migration and collaborating with Interpol.”
    Andrews leaned
forward, his interest piqued. “And it ties to Bhasin, how?”
    Gray heard his
beeper go and shifted to pull it out. The district-general had
received the PIIC. The code that came through demanded business as
usual now. “Under questioning,” said Gray. “Bhasin predicted four
cells would migrate, just after his arrest, with one of them being
linked to Al-Qaeda. One of the others came from a suspected ISIS
cell that Grantham’s report shows migrated within the past few
days.”
    “So not a
coincidence, not with predicting four?” Andrews saw the concern.
“Al-Qaeda and ISIS broke all ties years ago. They never did make
good bed partners. Are you suggesting Bhasin was playing both sides
and that he knew something would spook them enough to migrate?”
    “Hm. I’d really
like to know how Bhasin could have gone Nostradamus on this.
Whatever it is that’s making the cells migrate, it spooked Bhasin a
year ago too.”
    “Is he still
available for questioning?”
    “Committed
suicide a few months after the trial.”
    “Okay. What
would you like me to do?”
    “Get word out
to your sources on the ground and see if they’ve caught any
undercurrents. I don’t like how it suggests that Bhasin had
connections to both ISIS and Al-Qaeda. It hints at a merge that’s
been going on for a while. If there’s evidence of a macro merge, no
matter how minute the evidence, I want it on a board visible in all
departments from here to the Metropolitan Police. But I want to
know what’s spooking them. Why it started a year ago. Is the
Israeli Intelligence Operative from Mossad and the one from
Interpol still acting as liaison with MI6?”
    Andrews
nodded.
    “Make sure
they’re kept up-to-date