“This isn’t why I came to you, Jay.”
Sandra sat in the back of the taxi, showing no signs of getting out. The SIS Building gleamed in the bright sunshine, right next to them. The taxi driver, isolated in his attack-proof cage, glanced over his shoulder and then turned the meter back on.
“I just wanted you to help me get past Sniper’s guards. Something like that. I didn’t expect… all this. It’s all got out of control.”
“Yeah. I suppose it has, but what else can we do? There are people hunting for you out there. You’ll be safe with Bauchet’s people. And the deal we’ve done with Five means you’re free again. That’s got to be worth changing your plans for.”
She smiled weakly. “Tell me that your people can stop Sniper.”
“If they can’t, I don’t know who can.”
Sandra clearly didn’t like the answer. Jay could see how she must feel. She couldn’t stop Sniper on her own. The brick was so surrounded by security now that she couldn’t get near him. She had to rely on Jay. But even he realised that trusting MI5 might be a dangerous mistake. And then he had asked her to trust Bauchet and the London police too. So many people and any one of them could give her away.
“Nothing can happen to you in there,” he said, nodding toward the building. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Unexpectedly, she laughed. “I can take care of myself,” she said. Just as quickly, the laugh was gone. “Sniper can’t get away.” Her eyes willed him to understand. “He has to die. Promise me that. Tell me he’ll die. That’s what I want to hear.”
Jay swallowed. He looked around as if he might find help in the taxi’s dingy interior, in the ads flickering across its seat backs and doors. Finding nothing, he said, “I can’t promise you that, Sandra. I can’t promise to kill someone. It’s just… I’ll do my best to stop him though, and bring him to justice.”
She looked away from him, at the slow-moving traffic and the river beyond. In the end, she said, “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Jay wanted to say more, but decided he should leave it at that. Sandra’s fragile acceptance of the situation was probably all he could hope for at the moment.
They went into the building and he called Holbrook from the front desk. Within minutes, building security officers were leading them up to the top floor, where Overman greeted them with an uncertain frown.
“I thought we’d lost you, young lady,” the section head said, leading them into a comfortably appointed meeting room.
Sandra turned to Jay, looking cross. “If he’s going to talk to me like a patronising jerk, I’m leaving now.”
Instantly, Overman’s manner changed. He stepped up to Sandra and glowered into her face. He was only a little taller than her, yet his physical presence was completely dominating. “All right, so you’re a hot streetwise little bitch. We all get it. Now sit down and stop trying to impress me.”
For an instant, shock, then anger, flicked across Sandra’s features, then something else—curiosity, mingled with recognition. She smiled sweetly and took a seat. “Anything you like,” she simpered, keeping her eyes on Overman’s, crossing her long legs deliberately. Overman did not seem even slightly mollified by her sudden compliance. He took a seat opposite her and tapped the desk. A virtual keyboard and display appeared and he busied himself setting up the recording equipment.
“Thank you, Jay,” Overman said to him. “Close the door on your way out.”
“Ah, yeah. Okay.” He turned to Sandra. “I’ll see you later.”
She looked at him with distant eyes and gave him a vague acknowledgement, then turned back to Overman.
Jay stumbled into the corridor and leaned against the wall. His stomach clenched and he felt hollow inside. Whatever had just happened between Overman and Sandra, he could not begin to understand except on a visceral level. All he knew was that he hated it. This sophisticated and flirtatious woman was nothing like the Sandra he thought he knew. She was playing a game with Overman in which Jay had no part. Some kind of offer was being made, a relationship established. It was an aspect of Sandra that Jay had never seen, that he felt excluded from. That look she had exchanged with Overman was one he knew instinctively would never be turned on him. For all the feelings for her he thought he had, he was shockingly reminded that he didn’t know her at all. He wanted to get out into the air. He needed to be alone to nurse his pain.