Gil typed in the name Denton Miles and received a page full of pictures of her father. There were fifteen thumbnails to a page and there were at least twenty pages of them. After fifteen minutes of searching Gil found what she was looking for. On a photograph entitled ‘campaign team celebrates’ stood her father, looking statesmanlike and rather handsome, but there in the background was the blond girl without her Minnie Mouse Ear veil. Further, and to the left, pouring champagne for an elderly grey haired contributor, stood the fake groom.
Her father was keeping an eye on her. Good for him, she thought. By the time the Doc came back to her with the names Jessica Halvorssen and Bryan O’Keefe Gillian was no longer interested.
Chapter 5 3
The Miles Estate, Lynchburg, Virginia, USA, Monday 11am.
The security team were uncomfortable with the situation but they followed orders. They were to allow access to the house to one Gillian Miles, a former British assassin, and the senator was not only in residence but he was to greet her personally. The fact that she was his estranged daughter did nothing to alleviate their concerns. Luckily, sensing their nervousness, the pretty and smiling young woman volunteered herself for a pat down. She was not carrying a weapon.
Elizabeth Chase Miles opened the door on the front porch of the old plantation house before Gil had a chance to knock. The beautiful and glamorous senator’s wife oozed good breeding. She was reported as being in her mid fifties but she looked a decade younger. Her smile was warm and generous. Gil wasn’t sure how to greet the woman who had married her husband without knowing he had already fathered a child. She had no need to worry because, as she was puzzling over the correct etiquette, Liz Chase Miles threw good manners to the wind and stepped in to hug Gil as if she was a long lost friend. When the older woman withdrew from the hug, which was as tight as it was long lasting, she held Gil at arm’s length and scanned her face.
“Gillian, you have no idea how long I have waited for this day. We have always wanted children of our own but the fact that even one of us could produce a beautiful young woman like you makes me quite emotional. Come in and meet your father.”
The two women stepped into a hallway that spoke more of New England austerity than grandeur. Gil was surprised by its homeliness. The staircase was painted white, as was much of the clapboard on the walls. A dado rail ran around the plastered blue-painted walls, above the clapboard. With the portraits and other artwork, one could have imagined being in Cape Cod, or at least on the set of Murder She Wrote.
Hearing voices in the hallway, Senator Miles Denton III came out of his study to join the two women.
“Gillian, I couldn’t believe it when you wrote to tell me I had a daughter. Since that day - what is it, three years ago? - I determined that I would do everything I could to persuade you to visit with us. And here you are.”
The staid Senator from Virginia hugged the daughter he had never met and looked as though he may never let go. The three of them retired to a comfortable and airy sitting room, where the married couple sat holding hands as they talked.
“Senator, Elizabeth, I have dreamed about this meeting but never did I see it like this. At best I had hoped for a frosty politeness from you, Elizabeth, and perhaps a restrained wariness from you, Senator.” Gil wanted to let them know that their welcome was unexpected and much appreciated.
“”Gillian, we are all grown-ups here. Miles probably got up to all sorts of things before we met and, quite frankly, I daren’t ask what they were. But he speaks about your mother with such tenderness that I can’t help but feel that their relationship wasn’t anything but right. After all, look what it brought us.”
Miles Denton squeezed his wife’s hand as she spoke, then added, “Look, I’ve kept a window open until three this afternoon, when I really must conference call with my fellow senator for Virginia, by the name of Rich. He is a democrat, but a nice democrat.”
He smiled, and Gil’s heart skipped. “That’s my dad,” she thought.
Over the next four hours they had lunch, talked about Gillian’s mother and her upbringing in Hampshire, and walked in the garden, albeit briefly as it was still cold outside.
Elizabeth was keen to hear about Uncle Nick, who seemed to have been a surrogate father, whilst the Senator showed a good deal of interest in her career. He was aware of Celebrato Greeting Cards and her role in transforming the company, but he was most keenly interested in her role with MI5, much of which was covered by the official secrets act.
For the last hour Elizabeth left father and daughter alone to bond, and they talked in details about Gillian’s skills and training. Gil even confided in him about her period in private enterprise with Doug McKeown, concluding with the death of the Hokobus and her escape from the UK after an attempt on her life. She related the story in a way that placed her in the best possible light, but even this revised version of recent history clearly disturbed her father.
“I wanted you to know the whole unvarnished truth,” she explained, looking him in the eye. “If you don’t want to continue with any form of relationship with me, I’ll understand. It will still have been an honour to meet you.”
There was a long period of silence, and Gil wondered whether she had overplayed her hand.
“Gillian, we – governments, that is – call on people to do things we would not do ourselves. We ask our soldiers to make sacrifices we would not make to keep our society safe. From time to time we may inadvertently hurt the good guys, but all of the time we hurt the people we send to do our dirty work.
For decades we have trained people in the deadly arts, we have supported truly wicked regimes and we have lived to regret it. I fear that the government who trained you and the society that wanted you to clean up their mess without wanting to hear about it, are equally responsible for the death of a couple like the Hokobus. We don’t know any other way.”
He paused, stood up and crossed the floor to sit beside Gil. “Whilst I am not without influence, I’m not sure how much I can protect you from the rigours of international law. I can guarantee you that you will be safe and treated fairly. I hope that you understand that.”
Gillian nodded, and the two hugged again.
***
Over a quarter of a mile away, in the wooded hills surrounding the estate, Pete and Dee blew into their hands and tried to keep warm. The equipment was set up, and had been for hours, targeted on the front door of the house that currently accommodated Gillian Davis, The Chameleon.
They had watched a lithe young woman with short dark hair enter the house earlier, but had been unsure of their target until she turned around briefly as the door closed behind her. There had been no time to get a shot off. Now, however, if she exited through the front door she would be in their sights.
Pete looked through the spotting scope; Dee was already lined up on the front door.
“I hope she comes out soon. We’re losing the light.”
“We have night vision and infra red, I won’t miss anything,” Dee confirmed for the third time. Both of them were tired and irritable, and cold, so very cold.
***
“Holland and Mattingley will show you to the lodge in the rear. You can stay there as long as you like. Elizabeth wants you to join us for dinner, and then the two of you can spend the next few days together, getting to know each other while I go off to Washington and round up some help for you.”
The Senator hugged her as he opened the front door for her. “Don’t you worry, I’m sure I can fix things. That’s what dads are for, after all.”