Execution (A Harry Tate Thriller) Read Online Free Page B

been uttered with unreserved sincerity. ‘Did I say something wrong?’
    ‘We’ll see. What’s she done now?’
    ‘That’s what I’m asking you.’
    Ballatyne looked pained. ‘Please, Harry – I don’t have time for riddles.’
    ‘She’s gone. Disappeared.’
    ‘She can’t have.’
    ‘She has. I went to see her yesterday afternoon. She was there ten days ago, but now she isn’t. There were security guards and suits in the place, and lots of safety tape. Something was going on. Is it anything your lot would know about?’
    ‘Come off it, Harry. We might not be your favourite people, but we’re not responsible for every bad deed in the world. Anyway, Jardine’s off our hands, you know that.’ Harry must have looked doubtful, because he added heavily, ‘In official Six jargon, she is no longer a person of interest.’
    ‘So you didn’t discover a secondary beef with her?’
    ‘You mean other than her having knocked off an MI6 deputy director just down the river? No. In view of what you described, we did as you asked and dropped all charges. I gave you my word, although God help you, I hope that’s not about to come back and bite me on the arse.’
    Harry sat back, confused. Ballatyne sounded sincere. Clare Jardine, like Harry and several other security service personnel, had been on a hit list when their presence in a shared outstation code-named Red Station in Georgia had been threatened with being overrun by Russian forces. Without official sanction or knowledge, Harry’s boss, Paulton, and Sir Anthony Bellingham, Deputy Director (Operations) of MI6, had issued a termination order on them. Only Harry, Clare and an MI5 IT wizard named Rik Ferris had returned unscathed. Since then, Harry and Rik had worked together in the private sector as security consultants and tracers, tracking down missing persons of significance, often for Ballatyne.
    Clare Jardine, in disgrace after being caught on the wrong end of an MI6 honey-trap, had dropped out of sight, resentful and full of anger, but only after disposing of Bellingham with a knife blade concealed inside a powder compact. Since then, Harry hadn’t seen her until shortly before she was shot.
    ‘You know why I asked you to arrange the treatment.’
    ‘I know – she saved your life and Ferris’s.’
    ‘And Jean’s.’
    ‘Of course. How is Jean?’
    ‘She’s fine.’ Jean Fleming, a tall, willowy redhead, widow of an army officer and owner of an upmarket flower shop in Fulham. Very nearly a victim of a Bosnian kidnap attempt, she had been saved by Clare’s intervention.
    ‘And the Boy Wonder – Ferris? Not hacking into our networks, I hope.’
    ‘He’s not. Is there anyone else you’d like to ask after?’
    Ballatyne grinned. ‘No, that’s my lot. Just showing corporate concern, that’s all. We’ve had training in staff relations. It brings out our feminine side, apparently.’
    ‘Poor sod. So you really know nothing about Clare?’
    ‘No. But I’ll ask around. Why are you still bothered? I didn’t think you two were buddies.’
    ‘We’re not. But I owe her.’
    Ballatyne grunted. ‘You thought we’d wait for the dust to settle, then lift her and bang her up in a maximum security cell, is that it?’
    ‘It had crossed my mind. It’s what you wanted to do originally.’
    ‘True enough, at first. But believe it or not, I do like to keep my word, once I’ve given it.’ He smiled without humour. ‘Although I can’t speak for others in this business.’ He got to his feet, shaking out his cuffs. ‘Leave it with me, Harry. I’ll call you.’
    Harry watched him walk away, shadowed by his two minders. He turned as Rik Ferris ambled up and stood beside him drinking a smoothie through a straw. Dressed in jeans and a loose shirt, his noticeably spiky hair covered with a beanie hat, he looked like an escapee from an all-night rave.
    ‘What did he have to say for himself?’ Rik asked around a hollow sucking noise.
    ‘He had absolutely