“It’s just an office with a kitchen and a few bedrooms—nothing fancy—but it’s in a building owned by British Intelligence. The place is a fortress. So that’s the first step.”
The two men outlined the rest of the plan.
Tower had called in some favors with British Intelligence, which would return the rental vehicle and provide the two of them with Cobra’s armored Land Rover. Corbray planned to file a complaint through the embassy in hopes that it would get the police to back off. In return, British Intelligence wanted to chat about Leo Grant.
“This isn’t a Cobra operation, but British Intelligence has agreed to grant you a kind of provisional status. It won’t keep you out of jail if you’re caught breaking the law—so don’t break the law. But it ought to open some doors for you.”
“You arranged this in fifteen minutes?” Elizabeth was impressed—and relieved. “Thanks so much.”
“Aye, you’ve got our thanks.”
“McManus, I’m looking straight at you now,” Tower said, his expression grave. “You’ve got the combat and tactical experience. It’s your job to keep Shields—and yourself—safe. That is your first priority before any obligation to your friend or his widow. Am I being crystal clear?”
“Aye, sir.”
Corbray shook his head, grinned. “You know, McManus, only you could go home for a funeral and end up fighting the murderer and then falling ass-first into a possible terrorist cell.”
Quinn looked offended. “That disnae seem funny to me.”
Even Tower smiled now. “I expect a report every morning. When you get back to the US, we’re going to have a long talk.”
“Right.” Elizabeth ended the conference call, stood. “It’s time to pack.”
* * *
Quinn slidhis thumb over the biometric scanner again.
“Your biometric scans give you access to the front entrance, the gym, the garage, and the door to Cobra’s flat,” said Nigel Rhys-Jones, the security chief for the building. “The other facilities in the building remain off-limits.”
Elizabeth was next. “Index finger first?”
“Yes, and then your thumb.” Nigel’s gaze fell on her cheek. “You’ve had a rough time of it here in the UK. If the bastard who gave you that black eye tries to get in here, he’s going to face a rather hostile reception.”
“We’re very grateful.” She smiled, but Quinn could see she was hurting.
“A headache?”
She nodded, swiped her index finger a second time. “It’s not too bad.
“When we get settled, you need to rest, aye?”
Rhys-Jones frowned. “We’ve got a doctor available if you need one.”
“Thanks, but all I need is sleep.” She scanned her index finger for the last time then waited while Rhys-Jones reset the scanner for her thumb. “I think all the excitement today was too much.”
Quinn explained. “The bastard gave her a concussion.”
“Just tell me whom we need to kill, and we’ll be on it.”
Aye, Quinn liked this fella already.
When they were both in the system, Rhys-Jones led them to the lift, where Elizabeth pressed her finger to the scanner to call the car.
“You head up.” Quinn stepped back. “I’ll get our bags.”
“Your bags were taken up to the flat when you arrived,” Rhys-Jones said.
“Wow.” Elizabeth met Quinn’s gaze. “Talk about service.”