Page 58 of Drift

Yeah, Jan may have been a soft lad, but Gray saw what he’d done. Jack was used to pushing back with Gray, so Jan’s softer control on security was just what Jack needed to help calm his own disturbed waters. He eased a touch around Jan’s waist now, almost seeming to settle with Jan there. “Yeah. We’re good with that.” He gave a shake of head. “I’ll even try and go easy on Light. At least we’ve got another few days of freedom there, right?”

Jan pulled back and looked at him. “Change of plan. He’s back early tomorrow.”

“Fuck?” Jack gave a rough sigh and glanced back. “Any chance we can change the locks? Maybe move to a different asylum to give his head and mine a rest?”

Gray offered a ghost of a smile seeing some of the old Jack filter through. The new, colder one was… threatening to take everything out of his world, and the look Jack gave Gray now didn’t help, the hurt in those eyes.

“About Chris. I’ll put it right through the MC, with whatever way they decide to take it,” said Jack.

Gray shook his head. “You mention nothing outside these walls. I’ll handle Chris.” He always had handled this side to Jack and Martin.

Jan looked away from them both, but he didn’t let go of Jack.

And that look right there: always about the man and his choices behind the cologne. Because Jan hadn’t gone to the police: he hadn’t called in Halliday. He’d done what Gray was doing—pulled the circle tight in order to protect against more damage, even if that damage came from the inside.

Having Light back tomorrow wasn’t going to help, not with him being around Jack, not with Jack knowing Simon had seen the onboard camera footage. But like keeping a tough eye on Light, especially outside of the manor even if it was playing chauffeur to and from the airport, Gray would handle that too. Always.

Chapter 18

LIGHT

For both MI5 business travel and leisure, Gray kept to Heathrow’s VIP access at the airport, which also usually incorporated travel via limousine to and from home, not to mention a stay in the private lounge until the plane arrived. He offered Light and Simon no less, all except access to travel. With Light’s increasing tie to MI6 international training since Cal had sat down to talk to him short of Light’s twenty-first birthday a few months back, Gray took care of travel in around the UK. That was until Light learned how to keep his head down with getting away from conflict as well as starting to get into it.

Gray stood in the private lounge, looking over artwork by Heathrow’s partner, Tanya Baxter. For once he didn’t take any of the detail in. He’d been offered a light meal, but had declined that too, opting for a coffee he had yet to touch.

After losing Martin, Light had dug deep into his training with Baseman and was set to complete his MSc by Research in Physical and Theoretical Chemistry next year. Gray kept his training over both MI5 and the culler intelligence slow and calm-headed to counter how fast Light’s head moved. Light wanted to learn, but like with eating regularly purely to not make the mistake of running on empty again, he learned with the same mechanical drive to cover every possible angle over notgetting taken down. So he needed slowing down in order to let everything sink in.

Gray sighed and rubbed at his head, his soul drained over what had gone down yesterday, so he tried to focus on the now.

Simon hadn’t been impressed with the first operation with Light: a trip to Israel to liaison with Mossad over a chemical clean-up operation after a base of theirs was hit by ISIS. Then Cal had extended that to asking them to head over to the US on intel gathering. Thatwasmore up Simon’s alley. Gray callednoa few times on some of the MI6 operations after that and refocused Light on his academics and training, much to Light’s hard look at him for it. Gray didn’t care. Spy business came with rules that constantly changed. He’d always be here, teaching Light, no matter how much he hated him for it. And a part of Lightwouldalways hate him, Gray saw that in the distance Light tried to put between them, either with the summerhouse at the manor or on another continent. He was still caught in a way of life that took him far from home, from who he’d been with Brin, and it seemed a part of himself he’d never get back.

A card swiped at the lock to the door, and it eased open a moment later.

Holding a darker tan since last he’d seen him, Simon came in first, juggling a suitcase and an overnight bag. Jet lag weighed in his eyes, but a smile came Gray’s way, albeit a very thin one.

“Good journey?” Gray took out his car keys. He couldn’t afford to linger, but he knew the journey from Egypt was a rough one. Again Cal. Again a more subtle push to get Light under his wing. Not that Gray minded. Not that Light did either as a just-as-tired look came Gray’s way off Light as he came in next. He still had that look that preferred home shores even if he found Gray there at the end of it.

“Could have gone better.” Light left his case in the hallway and came over, his look towards Simon. Simon ignored it as he worked away on his phone, and Light snorted.

Something had gone on between them, but spies, even trainee ones in Light’s case because Simon already owned the tag, they never did make the best bed partners, not with each other.

“You need a drink before we get back?” said Gray, picking up his coffee and taking a long sip before tipping his cup to the bar. He needed to get back to the Oval. The news over the Soames case had broken today, citingunusual circumstances, and tensions were going to be strained between Parliament and the Embassy of the United States of America over at Nine Elms Lane. With the threat upgrade, he’d spent time already from an MI5 front sorting security detail for any remaining US politicians, but Thorn himself was handling communications with travel for next of kin when it came to the Soames. That left Gray chasing ghosts, and he didn’t know whether to take it as a good sign that no more bone marrow syphoning murders had been reported.

Quiet rarely equalled calm and sense, just a heavy feeling that something worse was to come. The issue was… where? When?

Light shifted over and grabbed a Coke to go, then lowered his look at Simon and tossed him a can too. Simon caught it, and it was there: how there’d been no ask, just a private communication between lovers, pissed off ones, but still lovers.

Gray took the hint and made his way to his Merc, feeling like he’d lived in it the past forty-eight hours. He put Light’s case in the boot, then handled Simon’s and let them both crawl in the back.

The silence was far too ill between them as usual, and as he headed home, Gray didn’t break it by asking any questions onhow it had gone in Egypt. Cal would pass him a copy of their report.

“I have a list of supplies I’ll need in a week,” said Light as he worked on his phone, startling the quiet. Simon carried on working on his but didn’t look up when Light spoke. “Can you clear it for Ray to order in?”

“What’s marked as a bio or explosion hazard?” said Gray as he drove. Asking for clearance before he spoke to Ray usually meant handling one or the other.

“Just the one. Boron Trichloride.”

Gray winced. An explosion hazard in the form of a colourless gas, mostly used in fertilizers. That was damn serious play, especially when mixed with water, causing seizures, coma, convulsions and ultimately death. “Pass me a copy of the list, and when you talk to Ray when he’s back on duty, make damn sure he follows storage instructions with keeping it away from moisture and water. I’ll double-check the setup when you’re done.”

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