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‘Come on, you bastard, look up, look up now,’ said Janie, her eyes fixed on the iPad.
‘Dick about, Barney. Swoop all over, acting like you’re an ASBO hooligan with a drone, you’ll fit right in.’
‘Goes against all my instincts, Max,’ said Barney as he started to swoop the drone sharp left and right, but the active tracking kept the camera fixed on the striding figure.
‘Go on, more. Dive bomb the bastard,’ said Max, his voice rising an octave.
Barney pushed both control sticks down, and the drone dropped like a stone; the whining of the drone was suddenly audible to them in the van.
The striding figure looked up, his face a white splodge against the black of his coat and dark beanie.
‘Right, zoom off again, acting like a dickhead drone owner, don’t worry about being seen. And screenshot the face.’
‘Max?’ said Janie.
Max sat there, his eyes fixed and hard as he stared at the frozen image of the face looking up at the drone. He grabbed his phone and dialled.
‘About time, you bastard, I’m with the Chief and he’s having fucking kittens. What’s happening?’ said Ross.
‘I know who The Ace is.’
‘Right, nick the bastard right now.’
‘I don’t think that’s the best idea. We have a better opportunity. Barney, how much time do we have left on the drone?’
‘Half an hour, easy,’ said Barney.
‘Remind me what happens if he puts that card in a computer?’
‘It’ll ruin his day for a start.’
Max stared at the figure, now from a much higher altitude, but the active track kept the camera focused on him. ‘Follow him, but gain height, stay out of sight, and see where he goes.’
‘Careful you don’t lose him,’ said Ross.
‘It doesn’t matter if we do. He’s toast, but let’s give him the chance to really tuck himself up.’
73
THE ACE WALKEDquickly back, head up, a feeling of elation coursing through his veins as he passed the Dynamic Earth visitor centre, sparkling blue-white in the bright sunshine, almost like a huge chrysalis about to pupate.
He continued on to Holyrood Road, keeping his pace up, aware of his meeting that was due very soon on working protocols, and budget transparency, which was more boring than he cared to think of at this particular moment.
The streets were getting busier as he crossed onto Cowgate, with more and more tourists poking around and gazing with awe at the familiar architecture that he rarely even noticed nowadays, after years of working in the city.
His phone buzzed in his pocket as he turned into Chambers Street. It was Maureen, his secretary, asking how long he’d be. He shook his head, she was very efficient, but had crossed that line where she felt that she was the sole custodian of his time and diary.
Within five minutes he was walking back into his wood-panelled office and shutting the door, having more or less ignored Maureen, who just blurted, ‘Don’t forget the appointment.’ He walked straight past her desk and into his office, saying, ‘No calls, and no visitors,’ before shutting the door.
He removed his coat and hat, and threw them on the stand. He sat at his desk, rubbing the disk in its case between his palms, as if expecting a genie to erupt from it.
He opened up his laptop, and it sprang to life, displaying the logo of the organisation as a screensaver. He took a deep breath, retrieved the card and slotted it into the slot on the side of the laptop, and waited.
Run SanDisk programme GR4-9-a-j-7546n9?
Y/N
He extended his finger, and paused it over the Y key, his stomach in his mouth. Part of him wanted to see what was on the disk, but part of him didn’t, such was his shame at what had happened six years ago. He closed his eyes, and pressed the key.
