Free Gray Redemption (Tom Gray #3) by Alan McDermott Page B

round to considering.  If the passengers were in fact the
mysterious Grant and the two men Farrar didn’t want her searching for, what was
she to do about it?  If she interfered in an order signed by the minister
himself, she knew she could kiss her career goodbye.  On the flip side,
she had proof that Farrar had ordered someone to intercept them, and the phrase ‘ensure no onward journey’ sounded very much like a kill order.  If
these people were who she thought they were, could she stand idly by and allow
a state-sanctioned hit on British citizens?  She knew she wouldn’t allow
another nation to get away with it, so why shouldn’t those same standards apply
to her own government?
    “First we confirm that Farrar is
behind this,” she said.
    Harvey nodded.  “How do we
do that?  If Farrar is involved, he’ll just deny any knowledge of Sam
Grant.”
    Ellis smiled.  “To catch a
rat, you have to become a rat.”
     
    *
* *
     
    James Farrar was wading through
the reports his team had produced.  So far they had checked hundreds of
bed & breakfast establishments for cash-paying families checking in on the
22 nd of April, but there were still thousands to be done. 
There were also numerous camp sites, caravan parks and boat rentals to be
eliminated, and all of this in the next few days.  At the current rate,
his targets would die of old age before he found them.
    He wished he could bring in the
police, but that was out of the question.  The last thing he wanted was
this hitting the newspapers, and all it would take would be one loud-mouthed
copper to open his mouth to the wrong person.
    He was still fumbling for ideas
when his mobile rang.  The display told him it was Ellis and he prayed
that she had some good news.  He answered using the most pleasant voice he
could muster.
    “Veronica, how are you?”
    “Tired,” Ellis said wearily.
    You and me both, Farrar thought,
though he didn’t say as much.  “I hope you’re calling to let me know
you’ve found what I’m looking for,” he said, not wanting to be too specific
over an unsecure line.
    “Not yet, but we have been given
a lead, a name.  Trouble is , we can’t follow it
up.”
    “Why the hell
not?”   Farrar asked, dropping the pretence of amiability.
    “I can’t access his file,” Ellis
said.  “ It’s password protected.  I was
calling to ask if you could have a word with the Home Secretary and persuade
him to release it to me.”
    “Whose file is it?”  Farrar
asked as he prepared to enter the name into the search engine.
    “Sam Grant,” she said, and
Farrar almost dropped the phone.  Where the hell did she get that name
from?
    “Are you there, James?”
    “Uh...yeah,
just doing a search now.”   He brought the screen up as he tried to
figure out who the hell knew about Grant.  He did, of course, and the Home
Secretary.  Besides them, there was the request from the CIA a few weeks
earlier.  Farrar had been on a plane back from Manila when the request had
come in, otherwise he would have handled it himself and sent them a completely
different name.  In his absence, all they had been given was a photo,
which was what they had in the first place.  Giving them the name should
have been no big deal, either:  It was a fictitious name in a sealed file
that was only accessible to a handful of people, and the CIA had been given
explicit instructions not to share with anyone.  Unfortunately, it seemed
that the Americans hadn’t been as tight-mouthed as they should have been.
     “I’m getting a password
prompt, too,” he said.  “Looks like I’ll have to ask the minister for
access.  I can’t promise anything, though.  If I can’t see the file,
there must be a good reason.”
    Ellis sounded disappointed as
she asked Farrar to do his best.
    “I will,” he assured her, “but I
need to know what information you have about this man.  If it can lead us
to Levine and Campbell I can put that forward as a case for