‘Holy shit.’
‘Exactly my thoughts. The Military Police were about to arrest Terry for drug trafficking at the base. They just didn’t have enough evidence to take it all the way to court martial so they were biding their time,’ explained David. ‘Terry must have found out and planned his escape, taking advantage of the confusion after that roadside bomb.’
Dan leaned back in his chair. ‘But he’d have been incredibly lucky. There’s no reason to believe he made it through the desert on his own. We don’t even know if he survived the blast, so all of this is conjecture.’
David nodded. He picked up a photograph from the folder and flicked it across the desk. Dan picked it up and looked at it, then back at David. The photograph was a still shot taken from the news report, enlarged by computer and sharpened to bring the figure into focus.
‘Shit.’
David nodded. ‘Indeed.’
‘That was three years ago though – not enough to prove he’s Delaney’s bomb-maker.’
‘True,’ David conceded. He reached back into the file of papers. ‘Try this.’
He tossed another photograph across the desk to Dan. ‘This one was taken in December at Bangkok airport.’
Dan looked at the photograph. ‘Jesus – he hasn’t even bothered to disguise himself.’
‘He doesn’t need to – he’s dead, remember?’
Chapter 39
Oxford, England
Sarah turned to Dan and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. ‘What the hell are we doing here?’
Dan locked the car and walked on ahead of her before turning on to the track leading to the River Cherwell. Looking around at the stalactite-like ice on the trees, he sighed. ‘I miss Peter as well, Sarah. I just thought if we came here, I might be inspired – that’s all. I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell the authorities what he really knew while he still had the chance. I mean, it’s a lonely place to die here, isn’t it?’ He shrugged and turned, stomping off into the trees, away from the path, careful not to slip on the ice-covered puddles.
Sarah lowered her head and blew into her jacket, desperately trying to create some sort of warmth. Despite her boots and warm socks, she could feel her toes slowly turning to ice. She raised her head and squinted at the bright sunlight streaking through the empty trees and began to follow Dan, her footsteps crunching on the ice-strewn undergrowth. She stamped her feet as she walked, trying to get the circulation flowing through her veins again.
Dan had stopped a few metres ahead of her and was standing, staring up at the tree branches, lost in thought.
Sarah slowed as she approached him, then stopped. ‘What now?’
Dan lowered his gaze and looked at her, almost startled to see her there. ‘Sorry – lost in thought.’ He scuffed at the frozen earth at his feet before speaking again. ‘Did Peter ever mention being contacted by anyone from my old army unit?’
Sarah frowned. ‘No. Well, not that he mentioned to me – why? Why on earth would someone contact Peter about you?’
Dan grunted to himself and continued walking.
Sarah threw her arms up in exasperation, and then followed. ‘I’m sorry – that came out wrong. Wait.’ She jogged to catch up with him and grabbed hold of his sleeve. ‘Wait.’
Dan stopped and turned. ‘It’s okay – I know. Why would someone I used to work with want to speak with Peter? But someone did – I’m sure of it.’ He ran his hand through his hair.
Sarah folded her arms. ‘Okay – there’s something you’re not telling me. Out with it.’
Dan grinned. ‘Is that how you journalists approach potential interviewees?’
Sarah shoved him, hard. Dan slipped on the frozen path and grabbed a sapling to steady himself.
‘Hey – watch it!’
‘Stop changing the subject – what do you know?’
Dan took hold of her hand and pulled her over to a large fallen log. Brushing the frost off the surface, he sat down, gesturing for Sarah to join him. As she sat down, he turned to her.
‘I met with David Ludlow when we got back here last week.’
She stared at him. ‘Was that wise?’
He smiled. ‘I didn’t think so at the time, but let’s face it – who else is going to help us?’
Sarah nodded. ‘Go on.’
‘He thinks one of the guys in our team we thought was killed in Iraq actually survived.’
Sarah’s breath was reflected in the winter air as she exhaled deeply and considered the consequences.
Dan looked around the icy woodland. ‘If he’s right, I think we might have found a motive – at least from the bomb-maker’s point of view.’
Sarah wrapped her arms around herself. Her eyes flickered as she took in the scenery around the clearing while she processed the information. Finally she spoke. ‘Why on earth did you go there, Dan? To Iraq, I mean. It just seems so unlike you.’
Dan smiled. ‘I just had to get away, do something a bit more meaningful than just do what everyone expected me to do. I suppose it was my own sort of rebellion. A bit later in life perhaps, but I don’t regret it.’
Sarah glanced over at him. ‘What about the recurring nightmares?’
‘How did you know?’
Sarah reached out and took hold of his hand, noting it was much warmer than hers, despite the freezing temperatures. ‘I could hear you crying out in your sleep again last night. Sorry.’
Dan squeezed her hand before letting his slip out of her hold. ‘It’s okay.’ He stood up and stretched. ‘Are you cold enough yet?’
Sarah smiled. ‘Bloody freezing.’
He grinned and held out his hand. ‘Come on – let’s find a pub with a nice open fire.’
Sarah stood up and brushed off the back of her jeans. ‘That has to be the best idea you’ve had all day.’
Sarah looked up as Dan walked over from the bar, a drink in each hand. Approaching the table, he put a wine glass down in front of Sarah.