20th May
I brought the Landrover to a halt.
Summerland said something to me in Turkish. I guessed from his gesticulations that he wanted me to wait.
He handed to me some Turkish banknotes, and I gave him a smile and a thumbs-up – attempting my impression of a willing native.
Summerland climbed out of the Landrover and began to walk up the shallow incline towards the dig.
I had been surprised when Joan had asked me to be part of this operation. I had always assumed that MI5 agents would need at least some training – perhaps a City and Guilds in espionage, at minimum.
Joan had explained that the choice of operatives all depended on circumstances. Helen, Duck and I, in our own ways, had apparently demonstrated the sorts of skills that were needed for the team – skills that were hard to teach. We were also fully briefed about the story that had so far unfolded.
Critically, however, Joan had become concerned about infiltration of MI5 by at least one person with an uncertain agenda. This had seemed to her to be the most likely reason why Sam had kept secret his knowledge of Arkangel.
On this operation, Joan wanted only people that she knew she could trust.
We were not entirely left to improvise, however: during the nine days since Forrester had revealed to me details of the ARK meeting at Gobekli Tepe, Helen, Duck and I had undertaken some additional preparation. I, for example, had learned to fire a pistol for the first time in my life, had studied something about the history of Gobekli Tepe and had modelled for the creation of the latex mask that I would need for my disguise as a Turkish taxi driver.
I watched as Summerland reached the top of the slope. I then turned on the receiver for the listening device that I had fixed to his jacket – a small spiked ball that looked exactly like the seed of a native plant that attached itself to animals and clothing in much the same way as a burr.
‘It’s a fascinating site, isn’t it – the oldest known religious structure of this magnitude,’ I heard a woman’s voice say.
I listened to the revelation that Arkangel was just a few hundred metres from where I was sitting. Angela Rikard, I thought to myself. Arkangel is an anagram of Angela Rk.
‘Walk up onto the dig and try to get a photograph of Arkangel.’ I heard Etienne’s voice in my earpiece. He was monitoring the surveillance from a bunker in the desert, half a mile away – the listening station that Sam Collins, Tom Meadowcote, Vladimir Paulov and Bill Stanford had set up all those years ago.
As I got out of the Landrover and began to ascend the slope, I listened, through my earpiece, to Arkangel’s explanation of why she had called the hierarchy of ARK to this place.
So, I thought, some supernatural sign has been prophesied for the day after tomorrow – Sam’s harbinger that was mentioned during the briefing at Thames House on the twenty-first of April.
This part of the dialogue between Arkangel and Summerland had also confirmed that no other key members of ARK existed beyond Forrester and those who were now either dead or captive – ‘There may be only the two of us left now,’ Rikard had said.
‘Who is that?’ said Rikard at the point at which she noticed my approach.
‘Oh, that’s just my driver,’ I heard Summerland reply. ‘I paid him to wait. He must have got bored with sitting in the Landrover. He can’t speak a word English. What were you saying about Holland?’
I looked towards Summerland and Rikard and raised an eyebrow such that the camera built into my sunglasses zoomed in upon her face.
‘Excellent.’ I heard Etienne’s voice in my earpiece. ‘We’ve finally got a clear picture of Arkangel – assuming she’s not wearing a mask.’
I looked at Rikard’s facial features. There was something about her that was vaguely familiar.
‘Yes … about Holland,’ said Rikard. ‘I’m afraid I killed him.’
‘But why?’ Summerland asked, appearing visibly shocked.
‘It was an accident,’ Rikard replied. ‘I had information that Morrison was due to visit Holland. I thought that might provide an opportunity to be rid of him.’
‘That was a brave move,’ said Summerland. ‘We know that Morrison is very powerful and possibly immortal.’
‘Morrison was in disguise,’ Rikard continued, ‘but I knew that it must be him. I aimed my rifle, but he threw himself to the ground a fraction of a second before I pulled the trigger. It must have been telepathy. Holland was in the line of fire.’
Summerland looked towards me, and I gave him a smile and a wave – reprising my ‘willing native’ impersonation.
Rikard looked towards me and then stood up and walked in my direction. I looked away, towards the ruins, not expecting her to join me.
‘Bu sıcak bir gün,’ she said when she was standing alongside me.
‘Ben senin lehçesi anlamıyorum,’ I replied. ‘Ben gitmek zorunda,’ I added, turning to walk away.
‘Very clever, Mr. Morrison,’ Rikard replied.