“That can be arranged. Of course it is dependent upon your work proving to be of use.”
Javadi gestured towards Ilya. “I am told Ilya has known you for many years, Dr Mitchell. Since you arrived here as a child?”
What the hell was Javadi talking about? Arrived from where? He’d been born in the U.S. Mitchell searched his memories frantically for clues. Images appeared and then dissolved before he could grasp them, leaving panic in their wake. Suddenly the answers that he’d been avoiding were staring him in the face. As Mitchell turned towards Ilya a different image of the Russian appeared. A man thirty years younger, cheering him on while he played baseball at school. Was Ilya his father? No. Mitchell rejected the idea as soon as it appeared. Father implied something positive and Ilya definitely wasn’t that. He was something much darker. He was his handler.
The word flashed into Mitchell’s mind as if he’d known it all his life. Ilya was his handler and he was a sleeper! An agent brought to the U.S. so young that he’d been bred to integrate. Speak like an American, dress like one, be one. To sleep amongst them, until the moment that he was activated and his handler wanted payback.
He was Russian! Ilya had brought him here and brought him up. He’d taught him everything. Even given him a legend that said he’d had parents called Jane and Stephen Mitchell who’d died when he was ten. Ilya had paid his way through college, and watched as Jeff Mitchell developed into an asset that they could use.
The knowledge nauseated Mitchell. He wanted to retch but he knew he couldn’t. It would tell them that he’d forgotten everything and was shocked by the truth. Mitchell locked down his emotions to stop his thoughts from showing on his face. He was a spy, a Russian spy and he’d soon have to leave everything that he knew. He was a traitor.
In that second Mitchell saw something else behind the images and he grabbed at it and held it tight, using all his strength to smile. No. He wasn’t a traitor, not unless he chose to be, and he never would. Forcing himself to relax Mitchell turned towards Ilya and spoke warmly, using their past relationship to best effect.
“Ilya was like a father to me.”
Javadi nodded. “I am also a father. I know that love.”
Javadi paused for a moment and then reached out his hand for Mitchell to shake. It was a signal. They trusted him. Ilya snapped his fingers immediately and a man entered the room, carrying a case. He distributed the hand-outs inside it and left. The Russian opened the document in front of him and motioned them all to do the same. It contained a short summary sheet, backed up by two pages of graphs. Mitchell knew exactly what it was; his research. And he knew what came next. He’d be expected to run through it. Mitchell closed his eyes for a second and prayed that he would perform like he had in Scrabo’s Boardroom, then instinct kicked in and he did.
Mitchell ran through carbon engineering in ten minutes, the point that the world’s research had reached and how he’d managed to take it further. He ended with a minute on new carbon allotropes then updated them on what Scrabo’s Board had asked him to do. Mitchell had the sense that his research had gone even further than he was admitting, but he couldn’t remember how.
Mitchell laughed. “Scrabo said they would give me the time to develop it.”
Ilya interjected. He had a deep, rough voice with a Slavic accent but there was something warm about the man. Mitchell could imagine them being close once, even though he couldn’t remember.
“Mitchell will work at Scrabo Tower and also here. Once he has taken things as far as he can, we will leave. He will give Scrabo only what the rest of the world already has. The Americans will never get their hands on his real work.” He turned to Mitchell, smiling. “Is that not so, Durak?”
Durak. Mitchell recognised the pet name and felt unexpectedly sad, but he had more important things to worry about. He rubbed his temple hard; thinking about Neil Scrabo’s spying attempts. He couldn’t tell these men about them or Scrabo and Devon would be the next ones in their graves. Who did Neil Scrabo want his research for; his company, America or the highest bidder? Mitchell settled on the last, wondering who the highest bidder was these days. Clearly not the men in front of him; they wanted his research for free.
Mitchell asked the most innocent question that he could think of, just to test his nerves. His voice surprised him with its calm.
“How can I work here without my absence being noticed? We’re almost sixty miles from New York.”
It was a logical question but it made them all smile. Ilya answered him.
“Haven’t you noticed where you are, Durak?”
Mitchell looked at him blankly.
“You’re eighteen miles from home. You drove out of the city and back to Long Island again.”
Mitchell thought about the route he’d come and then realised that they were right. The directions had led him out to the Bronx and then back to Long Island. Drip-feeding him directions had ensured that he’d got confused. Clever.
“We wanted to smoke out your surveillance and stop them tailing you here.”
“Who were they?”
Ilya shrugged and nodded to the men by the door. One of them spoke in an American accent. A mercenary working for the biggest pay-day.
“FBI, NSA, who knows? They’ve been watching you for months and they’ll keep on doing it. We just didn’t want them to tail you here.”
Mitchell smiled to himself, feeling safer at the mention of the acronyms. Javadi stood-up abruptly and the others did the same. Only Mitchell remained in his seat.
“We are pleased, Dr Mitchell. Keep on with your work and Ilya will give you an extraction date. It will be soon. Until then, do everything as you normally do. Now, the woman will take you to your new laboratory and then show you the short way home.” He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist and smiled coolly. “You should be there just in time for bed.”
Javadi turned on his heel and exited the room, followed by the other men. Ilya waited behind. He rested his hand on Mitchell’s arm and smiled.
“You’re doing well, Durak. Very well. Soon this will be over and we will all go home.”
The old man left the room quickly, nodding at Elza to lead Mitchell to his new lab. Mitchell buried the questions racing through his mind and followed her, looking around him as they walked and memorising each detail for future use.
Elza stopped and turned, scanning her lover’s face as if she could read his thoughts. She noticed everything; he would need to be more careful. Mitchell smiled brightly and ushered her politely ahead. He would consider his next steps well away from Elza’s prying eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Richie yawned and slid down the car seat, trying to get comfortable. He was bored and tired and in need of a shower. He’d almost been home when Magee had radioed him to babysit the house, while Whitman swanned off, tailing Jeff Mitchell to God knows where. He glanced at the clock; it was almost midnight and they still weren’t back. Mitchell’s rendezvous must have been miles away. Just Whitman’s good luck to catch the overtime.
Just then a pair of headlights flashed in Richie’s rear-view mirror and he jerked upright, recognising the Mitchells’ Lexus. Richie smiled, knowing that he would soon be off duty. Whitman wouldn’t be far behind so he could cover the rest of the watch. Visions of a hot shower and bed with Rosie Pereira filled Richie’s mind.
The Lexus pulled past him into the driveway and Jeff Mitchell climbed out, pulling his briefcase from the boot. He stood for a moment scanning the street, as if he knew someone was there. A quick salute in Richie’s direction confirmed it. Mitchell had seen him! Richie slipped down towards the floor then thought better of it and sat up again, returning Mitchell’s salute with one of his own. Mitchell must have known he was being tailed for a while. They obviously weren’t as slick as they thought they were.
Richie wondered when Mitchell had noticed them first. Probably on a trip to the café. It didn’t matter. It was unlikely to alter his behaviour and it definitely wouldn’t change theirs. Richie made a note to get better at surveillance and then glanced back at the Mitchell’s house, watching as the lights came on in the study downstairs. The Doc was burning the midnight oil. Richie speculated for a moment on what Mitchell might be doing, then gave up. Either he’d be staring at equations like the nerd he was or thinking about the meaning of life.
Craning his neck, Richie scanned the street for Whitman’s car. Where the hell was Brad? He wanted to get some sleep before it was time to come back to work. A moment later Richie got his answer, when the radio crackled into life. Magee’s gruff voice announced matter-of-factly that Brad Whitman had been killed and that Howard would be relieving Richie soon. He would give them the details at a meeting at nine a.m.; the local police could cover their surveillance for an hour. Richie knew just how much the NYPD would love that; he’d been a cop before he’d joined the agency.
Richie’s thoughts moved to Brad Whitman. He hadn’t known the guy but he was sorry that he was dead. Whitman had survived years of combat, yet died two weeks into working for Magee. If Iraq doesn’t kill you, New York will. Jeff Mitchell was a bastard who’d caused the death of another good agent.
A sharp tap on the sedan’s window told Richie that the cavalry had arrived. He nodded gratefully at Amelia Howard and handed over. He knew there was no point trying to sleep so he called Rosie Pereira and headed for the nearest bar.
***
Karen Mitchell stood by the study door watching her husband read. Jeff had frightened her earlier, but she knew that he’d meant to. It was his way of making her take him seriously. She had. She’d sent the babysitter home and locked herself and Emmie in upstairs until she’d heard the Lexus return. Emmie had been asleep for hours, oblivious to everything but her dreams. Ignorance was bliss.
Mitchell sensed that Karen was there and turned, momentarily taken aback by his wife’s beauty. With her long white nightdress and blonde curls rambling across her shoulders she looked angelic; like everything good in the world. Karen walked towards Mitchell and he reached out a hand, pulling her onto his knee and holding her close. She smelled of vanilla and he buried his face in her hair, searching for comfort. His work had taken him into a dark world and she was the polar opposite. She and Emmie were pure and clean and he would do anything to protect them.
Mitchell broke their embrace slowly and gazed into Karen’s navy-blue eyes, reading the fear there. Without her make-up on she looked like a girl, but Mitchell knew that she was wiser than him in many ways. He went to speak but Karen kissed him gently, stilling his words. Mitchell kissed her back passionately, until he felt tears on his face. He stared at his wife but her eyes were dry; the tears were his. He dashed them away and then spoke.
“Karen, I’m in serious trouble and I need you to trust me.”
Karen’s large eyes widened, then she nodded and Mitchell knew that no matter what he said next she would still love him.
“I’ve been carrying out some high-level research and there are some people who are prepared to go to any lengths to get it.”
Karen cut in anxiously. “What is it? Give it to them, Jeff. Just give it to them!”
Mitchell pressed a finger to her lips and gave a weak smile, then he shook his head.
“I’m not sure how far the research has progressed.”
“But it’s your research, how can you not know?”
Mitchell rubbed his forehead. “The problem is that I can’t remember. I can’t remember a lot of things these days.” He missed the frightened look in her eyes. “But I know where the work is heading and I can’t let it fall into their hands.”
“Why not?”
Mitchell stared at her gravely. “Because if they get it they can pervert it, and use it to harm millions of people.”
“How?”
“I’ve been working on new forms of carbon.”
He paused and Karen stared blankly at him.
“In living things, Karen.”
Her blank look deepened then she spoke. “I know you work with Graphene. Electrical conduction. But where do the living things come in?”
“All life on earth is carbon-based, including us. I think…I think I’ve made a new form of carbon. I’ve learned how to alter the carbon atoms in living things...”
Karen understood immediately and her face fell. Whoever held the key to manipulating carbon-based life held the key to advances that could save millions of people, or weapons that could destroy them. The ramifications made her feel sick. She broke Mitchell’s embrace and moved away.
“How could you Jeff? How in God’s name could you?”
Mitchell slumped in his chair and held his head in his hands.
“I can’t remember discovering it and I’ve no idea how far the research has gone, that’s what I have to find out. It must have happened when we were researching the applications of Graphene.” He shook his head quickly to clear his thoughts and then stood up. “What’s done is done. The discovery’s made. What I need to do now is find out how far it’s developed and keep it away from these bastards.”
“Who are they?”
“Some sort of Russian, Arabic partnership.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh God!”
“Scrabo’s after it too.”
“But don’t they own the work? You did it on their behalf.”
“The company only has copyright for work that they’ve paid me to do, anything I developed on my own time belongs to me. Anyway, it’s not Scrabo LLC that wants it, it’s Neil Scrabo himself.” He sighed heavily. “He has Devon spying on me.”
Karen’s mouth flew open. “Devon? No! He can’t know what Scrabo wants it for.”
Mitchell shook his head. “No, I don’t think that he does. I told him that I was on to him and sent him away for a few days. He’ll be safe as long as Scrabo can’t find him.” Mitchell stared at her intently. “You have to trust me, Karen. I’m going to string them along until I work out what to do.”
“But you can’t even remember what you’ve been working on. They’ll realise what you’re doing, Jeff. It’s not safe.”
“I can bluff until I find out. The work’s too complex for anyone but another scientist to question me on. I’m going to keep you and Emmie safe, and when I find out how far it’s progressed, I promise that I’ll destroy everything. I just want to do some more digging and then I’ll contact the Feds. They’ll protect you.”
“And what about you, Jeff?” She hugged him tight. “I’d die if anything happened to you.”
Mitchell smiled down at her. “Then I’d better make sure that it doesn’t. For all our sakes.”