Blindside - By Gj Moffat Page 0,5

Are you trying to piss me off? Because most people who do usually end up regretting it. Not a wise move.’

‘Are you threatening me? It’s a federal offence to interfere with a law enforcement official—’ He stopped himself.

‘Look,’ Cahill said. ‘You know who I am. What I did for our country. What’s going on?’

‘I’m ending the call now, Mr Cahill. Goodnight.’

Click

Cahill called Tom Hardy again.

‘Any luck yet?’ he asked.

‘No. I didn’t reach anyone.’

‘I spoke to a Fed at the airport. Don’t know which agency exactly. Probably FBI. They’re all over this.’

‘What’s the story? What do you think Tim was into?’

‘I don’t know. But I’m starting to believe that he was on that flight. Or at least that he boarded it. Whether he was still on it when it took off, I don’t know.’

‘So what now? I mean, I know you, Alex. Don’t make this a crusade. We just got confirmation that the UK Government is renewing our contract for another three years. I don’t need to remind you that it’s our most profitable gig. Your head needs to be in the right place.’

‘I’m going into the office. Logan might have someone he knows who can help, from back when he was a scumbag lawyer.’

Hardy laughed in spite of himself – Cahill having completely ignored what he had just said.

‘He’s still a lawyer, Alex.’

‘You know what I mean.’

5

Logan Finch watched from the couch as Rebecca Irvine tied his daughter’s hair in a French plait. He liked watching Ellie and Irvine together, was happy that they were getting on better now.

Irvine saw him watching and made a face. He smiled at her, stood and went to the kitchen.

Irvine’s three-year-old son, Connor, was sitting on the floor tracing shapes in the orange juice he had spilled. He saw Logan and lifted his arms up, laughing.

‘Let’s get you ready for nursery, buddy,’ Logan said, lifting him off the floor and skidding in the juice puddle.

Domesticity.

‘Time to make a move, everybody,’ Logan shouted as he went from the kitchen into the hall of his flat.

Irvine came out of the living room and grabbed Connor from him.

‘You in a hurry?’ she asked.

‘Kind of. Alex called and he needs me to look into something this morning. Sounded urgent.’

‘Want me to drop the kids off?’

‘Would you? That would be great.’

Irvine smiled. He was transparent.

‘All you had to do was ask.’

‘But it’s more fun when you think that it’s all your own idea, right?’

‘Oh, sure.’

Logan leaned in past the flailing arms of her son and kissed her. Irvine’s hand slid up his back and on to his neck as their lips opened on one another.

‘I had fun this weekend,’ he told her.

‘Me too. Let’s do it again sometime.’

He kissed her again before going to his bedroom to grab a jacket, stopping by the bed and putting a hand on the mattress. Feeling the last heat from their bodies lingering there and remembering …

‘Logan …’

Ellie stood in the door with a knowing smile. He didn’t mind that she sometimes still called him by his name instead of Dad. She had only come into his life three years ago – after the murder of her mother. But at fourteen, she seemed far more mature than he remembered being at that age.

‘I gotta go, Ellie,’ he said, brushing past her and kissing the top of her head.

‘Piano practice tonight,’ she said. ‘Did you remember?’

‘Sure,’ he said, not meaning it. ‘Pick you up at seven from Valerie’s?’

‘You forgot again.’

‘Did not.’

Logan walked through the CPO reception, nodding at the woman behind the desk. The company name – the ‘O’ a stylised target of concentric rings – was on the wall above her. Cahill and Hardy were waiting for him in the War Room – the biggest of the meeting rooms in the CPO office suite. The two men were sitting at a small conference table in the centre of the windowless room, spotlights shining on the glossy table top. A large TV was mounted in the centre of the wall to the right of the door.

Cahill looked up and put a finger to his mouth when Logan came into the room, pointing at the conference phone that was sitting on the table. Logan pulled a chair out from the table and sat quietly.

‘Guys,’ an American voice sounded from the phone, ‘I can’t help you on this. Not right now anyway. Place is locked down tight and no one is telling me anything.’

‘Thanks, anyway,’ Hardy said before pressing a button to end the call.

Logan looked