Page 18 of Drift

Maybe he was just culled too much and needed the distraction with Ben and Chris, Jan’s work colleagues, but….

The Polaroid of him getting out of his Mercedes-Benz sat by the Dulce coffee machine. Jan rested against the bonnet, smiling at Jack as he’d stolen the image, but the image itself lay out of alignment with life and unit alike and had been like that forover four months now: Jack’s longest stretch without needing to straighten it and order the burn of life in the process.

Although not needed too much lately, Jack’s control of life was fought, won, and lost on the back of the need to straighten a photo.

Gray’s control came with the wider picture, always would be when it came to Jack and Jan. So anything that threatened to push them out of alignment, no matter how office-bully small, it always got his attention because he knew life played a cruel hand like he did.

Someone always came along to try and fuck it all up.

Chapter 5

ALONG CAME A SPIDER

“Gray, I know you’re busy. I’ll make this quick.”Shaun came into the Oval, wearing full police chief uniform, but it was the way he removed his hat and tucked it under his arm that earned Gray’s focus.

Gray handed him a coffee. “No rush.”

Shaun took a brief sip before sliding him a glance. “You sure? On Friday, I was briefed about your COBRA meeting with the PM at eleven over the conflict with Houthis in Yemen.”

“Hm. Far too much profit in war. It looks like we’re heading that way with them.” He’d received a call half an hour ago from Simon’s replacement as his Unit Manager, Alya, letting him know a COBRA meeting had been called for eleven over a possible war with Iran and ongoing concerns over the US’s announcement on wanting nuclear armament over BRICS countries overtaking those in G7.

Concerns had always been there, but since Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine, the escalating conflict between Israel and Palestine, plus Iran now thrown into the mix, MI5 and beyond had raised the threat level from substantial to severe. Along with directors from GCHQ, he and Alya should be with Cal with his directors from MI6 and the Prime Minister at today’s meeting.

This was where he really missed Simon and his ability to dig into underground networks and gather intel on bank dealings that hid a larger gathering of weapons aiding either Russia, Israel or Houthis in Iran. That wasn’t saying he didn’t value Alya. She had other skills, her instinct over unseen threats both in and away from the net top of the list. She’d also worked under Simon so knew what Gray expected out of his unit manager. She just wasn’t Simon. Neither was those at GCHQ, despite all their skill on coding.

Lighthadheld to his promise of allowing Simon to liaison with him on MI5 business, but both were out of the country for another week in Egypt, and Alya had requested that Gray give the all-clear to Simon reviewing Cal’s intelligence over Israel.

All in all, it left Gray doing nothing more than signing off on classified paperwork between a pissing contest with grown-up men who were having a tantrum over losing money and control. It left his MI5 directorship with a stale taste to it, how the negative reinforcement leash was being pulled tight even via his director-general with profiling work that was passed onto MI6 before him. The director-general was never in the office to discuss it, but then Gray had never voiced it as a concern either. He just wouldn’t forget, and that was probably why his director-general took more days away at the golf course until normal service was, or wasn’t, resumed with the cullers.

The tightening of his leash worked. Doing nothing but the mundane of the routine ate under his skin more than he wanted to admit, so… Chris and Ben it had been until Shaun arrived.

“Apologies for the delay in getting here.” Shaun put his coffee down. “I just needed to wait for more news from the pathologist on his postmortem before talking to you.”

Drip… fucking drop.

At times Gray understood Light’s conversation with the world when it came to I-dosing and coloured vibrations. His was more tone and tonicity, how Shaun’s vibrated through his skin.

Life had been taken, but not by an ordinary killer. “You have a serious problem.”

“I think the Cullers could have, and it’s got to have been going on for a while with this level of balls.” Shaun took out his phone as Gray cocked a brow. He thumbed through it, then brought up a file marked classified.

A woman lay bound on the table, chemical burns covering a bloodied face… knife wound to her stomach, the same chemical burns to skin around the open wound… hair shaved with long strands on the floor, around the table. Then a shot of a man: fingernails plucked from his fingers, skin peeled back off his hands. He sat at the kitchen table, his throat slit and the knife loose in his hand, potatoes served on plates with parsley sauce covering them. A long line of red ran across the man’s plate, giving the kitchen a colour palate that startled.

Tucker, Jason.

Tucker. Gray frowned. “That surname’s familiar.”

“In part it’s why I’m here.” Shaun tapped the phone. “Jan’s colleague at the MC who’s up for promotion with him, Monique? Jason’s her brother.”

Gray looked up at him and cocked a brow. “She doesn’t know about this yet.” She wouldn’t have picked Jan up for work otherwise, and if she’d found out since, Gray would have gotten a call from Jan that something was wrong.

“No, not yet.” Trouble lined Shaun’s eyes, and Gray focused back on the report to fully understand just why family hadn’t been notified.

Bodies had been discovered yesterday morning, but the pathologist’s on-scene observations put the woman’s death at Thursday evening, Jason’s a few hours after. Both nearly four days ago.

“Jason is cited as the mark,” said Shaun. “The fingerprints on the weapon used to stab the woman are his. On-scene observations from the pathologist also cited suicide with Jason a few hours after he murdered his partner.”

Gray looked at Shaun. “But you suspect something different other than a domestic murder/suicide if you’re talking to me.”

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