Private Sydney (Private 12)

‘Jack Morgan can explain. He’s calling in a minute. I’m almost there.’ The phone cut out.

As if on cue, my mobile rang again. I recognised the caller ID.

‘Jack, what the hell is going on?’

‘When you told me about Eric Moss, something didn’t sit right. I did some digging and a CIA contact came through. A US air base has been extracting a number of undercover operatives from the Asia-Pacific region, codenamed Eagle-watch. There is supposed to be one rogue agent.’

‘You think it was Moss?’

‘Looks like he went off the grid, vanished. My contact just sent through a photo of Moss. CIA had him as deceased in a boat accident until a surveillance camera snapped him at a car rental place in Mascot. Time and date stamp registered six am today.’

‘After he was supposedly killed.’ I knew there was little picture documentation of Moss. ‘How can you be sure it’s him? We haven’t been able to establish facial recognition in anything we have.’

‘Beard’s shaved, glasses are gone. Craig, I’ve met the guy. It’s him.’

‘Then we’re about to cremate the wrong body.’

‘Sorry about the timing. The image just came through.’

There was one thing I needed to know, unequivocally. ‘How sure are you about the timing of the photo and your source?’

Jack didn’t miss a beat. ‘I’d trust him with my life.’

I closed my eyes.

Somehow I had to stop the funeral. I watched Eliza as she nodded for the minister to begin.

‘I’d like to welcome everyone on this sad day, to celebrate the life of a man few people knew as well as you who are gathered here.’

It was now or never. I took a deep breath, then shouted: ‘Stop! There’s been a bomb threat and we need to evacuate the building.’

Chapter 110

THE MINISTER AND the dozen or so mourners turned around. I ran forward, arms outwards.

‘We need to clear the building. Bomb squad are on their way.’

I didn’t look directly at the mourners. I couldn’t bear to see the distress on Eliza’s face.

The minister urged people to grab their bags and move quickly and quietly towards the back doors, which Mary held open. Darlene and Johnny slipped in via a side entrance.

We had to move fast. With the media outside, someone was bound to call the police. This could turn nasty.

Eliza had refused to budge.

‘A bomb threat?’ she demanded. ‘Is this some perverted joke?’

‘I’m sorry, Eliza. There is no threat. I just needed to buy some time. There’s reason to believe the body in that coffin isn’t your father’s.’

‘What?’ She appeared hopeful at the news until Johnny approached the coffin clutching a handheld drill and crowbar.

‘You’re insane!’ she shouted. ‘Get away from there.’

Johnny began removing screws on the lid while Darlene set up her mobile kit.

Eliza was yelling at them to stop. She flinched with every whir of the drill. I could hear sirens outside. Time was running out so I grabbed the crowbar. Together Johnny and I began to lever off the lid.

Eliza wheeled herself back in horror.