Chapter 3
MI5
Sat towards the back of Operations, Samantha could comfortably lean back in her chair and regard the man she had come to see with relative ease.
Stood beside a floor-to-ceiling screen which was replaying a thirty-second clip from some drone footage over southern Afghanistan, Michael Truro looked to be in his element. He was tall with the physique of a competitive swimmer and ash blonde curls combed back to expose a very symmetrical face.
At only thirty years old, he was one of the youngest men to be in command of Operations.
Once he had watched the footage for the fifth time, Michael became aware of the girl stood beside him.
Samantha could only see the back of her head so she couldn't see what she said to Michael, but she could guess.
"There is someone here to see you." The girl would say.
"Who?" Michael would reply in his quick tone of voice that said he did not wish to be disturbed.
"She said her name was Samantha McAndrew?" The girl took a small step backwards.
"Samantha?"
She did not have to guess that part because the moment he heard her name he spun to look at the girl, probably trying to see if she was telling the truth or someone was having him on, and she saw the way his lips formed her name.
The girl, with a small nod of her head, pointed directly at Samantha in the back room.
Samantha waved back at him. As he walked down the aisle between the desks towards her, Sam could not help but notice that he seemed a lot older than the last time she had seen him.
Her fingers were drumming against her knee as he opened the door to his office and slipped inside.
"Sam," Michael acknowledged her as he walked around his desk.
"Michael."
"What are you doing here Sam?" Michael placed a few papers face down on his desk before he looked at her.
She forgot how hard and opaque his eyes could be. She could almost see herself reflected in them.
"Maybe I just fancied saying hi. Ever think of that?" Sam shrugged, slightly offended that he thought she was on the scrounge.
She was, but she didn't like that to be his first thought when he saw her.
"If I recall, we stopped saying hi to each other a short time after we finished training." Michael recalled.
"Well, a hello is long overdue then, wouldn't you think?"
Michael laughed and she saw his shoulders relax, "I always liked you Sam. You were a good agent."
"'Were?'" Samantha frowned at him.
"You know what I mean. Now, what is it you really want?"
"Okay, I surrender."
"I thought you might."
"You were on General Ridgeway's protection decal when he was over here for that conference, right?"
Michael rolled his eyes gruesomely, "I needed the overtime but I won't be doing that again anytime soon."
"Why not?" Samantha's interest was piqued, "What did the General do?"
"He didn't do anything . . ." Michael frowned and looked at Samantha closely, "Why are you asking after the General?"
Samantha backtracked as fast as she could, "Just making conversation. I came because I need your help locating someone for me. It's a new case I've been given."
"You can't do that yourself with your new high-security clearance?" Michael's frown wore deeper.
"Not without attracting attention," Sam muttered under her breath, "And the later the person knew I was tracking him the better."
"Have previous, do you?" Michael chuckled.
"Nothing like that," Samantha rolled her eyes, "Are you going to help me or not?"
"Come on then, what's his name?" Michael picked up a pen and poised it above a piece of paper ready.
"Carlos Ramirez."
Samantha fought to bite her lip as she watched him scrawl the name, no hint of familiarity dawning on his face so Samantha took it as a sign that she could breathe again.
Michael clicked the pen close, "I'll see if I can get someone onto it."
"Right away?" Samantha asked.
Michael sighed, "You're asking a lot."
"But you'll do it?" Samantha watched his face closely so that she knew he wasn't lying when he said 'yes'.
"Good. Thank you," Samantha leant back in her chair when there was a sharp knock on the window beside them.
Looking through, Samantha saw the wirey form of Jonathon Acker in his blue and white checked shirt and grey trousers. He was waving a thick stack of papers at her with a wide grin on his face.
Michael looked at Samantha from the side, "Is he one of yours?"
Samantha sighed and got to her feet, "Unfortunately."
"See you in the week sometime?" Sam asked as she opened the door.
"Goodbye Sam," Michael turned back to the papers he had laid on his desk when he entered the office.
Slipping out of the room, Sam caught Jonathon's attention and then pointed to the door. With a quick nod, he hurried back the way he had come but not before nearly knocking a woman's coffee over in her hand.
"What have you got for me, Jonathon?" Samantha asked as she pressed the small button next to the door and it slid open, allowing them access into the hallway outside.
"I found the personal information for each of the four operatives in the Special Task Force," Jonathon handed her a few handfuls of paper as they slipped out of Operations.
"They were in different branches of the military. Reynolds and Ramirez were Marines. Jackson was in the Army and Evans was air force."
They reached the end of the hallway and Samantha called up an elevator.
"Ridgeway was collecting a set."
"Yes, but because they were each in different branches it means they must have joined up separately," Jonathon was speaking faster now as he sifted through the stack of papers and pulled something else out.
Samantha had to look at it for a few moments before she realised what it was. She had not seen one herself in years, "These are training scores."
"Exactly. Look at their scores! Jackson, Evans, Ramirez and Reynolds all scored off the chart in their training exercises."
"All of them?" Samantha frowned. Those exercises were made exceptionally difficult, "But nobody passes those tests with full marks, let alone exceed them."
"Well, they did." Jonathon shrugged, not sure what else to tell her.
What did Ridgeway want with these four people?
The elevator doors pinged open and it was Samantha's stop. She turned to Jonathon, "Good work, Jon. Can you see what else you can find out? Start with Jackson and Evans, and see how they died."
"You got it, boss." Jonathon gave her mock salute and she stepped out of the elevator, letting the doors close again.
Walking down the corridor, feeling her heels dip into the carpet beneath her, Samantha looked back over the charts until she came to the shooting range scores.
Reynolds's results rested on the top and Samantha saw that she had scored a head shot on nearly every one and the on the one's she didn't there were clear shots to the heart and chest.
As Samantha unlocked her office and fell into her chair, she found herself wondering who these people were.