window than make excruciating small talk.
The chopper landed in a designated helicopter zone on the base and a jeep arrived within moments to convey them to a windowless low-rise block situated at the edge of the complex. One of Gurley’s sergeants escorted them to a stuffy room at the end of a long corridor. Inside was a man in his late thirties or early forties, a little overweight, dressed in civilian clothes. He was pacing up and down behind a table and four chairs.
“Is that it? Am I going to the police station now?” He had an English accent, with a slight lilt to it. Ingrid supposed he was a local. The man had directed his question at Gurley, ignoring Ingrid completely.
“Mr Cooper?” Gurley said, “Mr Glen Cooper?”
“You know who I am, for God’s sake. What’s going on here?”
“We need to speak to you, sir.”
“Christ, what do you think you’re doing? You have no right to hold me like this. Where are the police? I asked the other bloke I spoke to—Lieutenant Grayson—to call them. Where the hell are they? Finally he turned his attention from Gurley to Ingrid. “And who the hell are you?”
Ingrid showed him her badge. “I’m from the American embassy. We’re very interested in finding out exactly what you saw this morning.”
“Oh, is that right? Well maybe I don’t want to tell you. I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve got other deliveries to make. You can’t keep me here. It’s not legal.”
“Why don’t you let us worry about what is and isn’t legal?” Gurley pulled out a chair from the table and sat down.
“Piss off.”
Ingrid sat down too. “The faster you tell us what you saw, the faster you’ll get out of here.” Ingrid felt sorry for the guy, locked up for the past two hours as if he were a criminal. What the Air Force was doing was illegal, but if it meant that they tracked Foster down sooner, she was willing to be party to a little bending of the rules.
“I know you, I’ve seen you around the base, you look different out of uniform. Smaller somehow.”
“My name’s Jack Gurley—I’m a major in Security Forces. I need you to tell me everything you saw.”
“I can’t hang around here. I thought I was going to speak to the police. Not bloody Mulder and Scully. I’ve got a business to run. Deliveries to make.”
“You’ve made that quite clear. Why don’t you sit down and tell us what you know?” Gurley folded his arms and tilted his head to one side, the picture of a patient interrogator.
“I’ll talk just as soon as that door’s unlocked and the armed man outside has been dismissed.”
“Not possible.” Gurley scraped back his chair and stood up. He hurried around the table and squared up to Cooper. He towered over the man.
Cooper flinched, and raised his arms across his face.
“What? You think this is going to get physical?” Gurley said.
“I know what you Yanks are like, Guantanamo and all that.”
“Then you must know how determined we are to get the information we need.” Gurley forced a smile.
Ingrid got to her feet, staying on her side of the table, but preparing to launch into action if Gurley did overstep the line. “You say you have a business to run, Mr Cooper?” She maintained a quiet and even tone, despite being sorely tempted to holler at him. “You deliver supplies to the base?”
“And I have been doing for years. You really shouldn’t be treating me like this.”
“So I’m guessing you rely on the base for a large part of your income. I’m guessing it’d be… significant, in terms of your… profitability, if you lost the RAF Freckenham contract.”
Cooper lowered his arms and his shoulders drooped. He stared into Ingrid’s face, then down at the floor and shook his head. “That’s how you’re going to play it. Threatening my business.” He looked at Gurley. “She’s good. You could learn a thing or two from her, Mulder.” He shuffled to the table and sat down opposite Ingrid. “Let’s get on with this bloody interview, then, shall we?”
Gurley gave her a begrudging smile as he returned to his seat.
Cooper interlaced his fingers and flexed them outwards, forcing the cartilage to pop noisily. “What do you want to know?”
21
They had been at the base for over thirty minutes, and still hadn’t gotten the first nugget of intel from the eyewitness. It was clear to Ingrid that Cooper had been locked up and isolated to maintain first mover advantage. She