None of the fourteen survivors showed any inclination to say anything of interest to T14 beyond asking for food and water and a change of clothes. The two drivers and six men with the backpacks were all obviously American and almost certainly current or former CIA operatives. The other six turned out to be Iranian and only one of them ever spoke any English.
None of the forty eight men nor the four vans contained anything to identify them and the houses they had been using proved equally fruitless. No passports or ID of any kind.
The Cambridge lab had returned to its normal routine, save for 37 and five other agents taking over the day to day security and supervision of the remaining building upgrades. None of the staff nor the press or public knew what had happened three nights previously and White knew that circumstances allowed him to detain the prisoners for an indefinite period. Nonetheless it was deeply frustrating. Although he could hold them for months if needed he was ultimately accountable to the prime minister for their treatment and it would be his head on the block if there were any signs of confessions being beaten out of them.
There had been no reaction from anywhere in the world to the men disappearing or failing in whatever their mission was, indicating at the very least that the CIA hadn't officially sponsored the endeavour.
White sighed and decided that a few days in the cells may loosen some of their tongues. It wasn't as if he didn't have plenty of other work to be getting on with.
As he was pondering his next move, John burst into his office.
"I've been thinking," he said between deep breaths.
"Good, that's partly what I pay you for."
"I suddenly wondered if Cambridge was their first attempted target."
White rapped his knuckles on his desk in frustration.
"How did we all miss that? Well?"
"I've spent the last two hours searching for any attacks or breaches or suspicious activity at research facilities anywhere in the world. I think I've found a motive, or at least a modus operandi."
John sat down and took out his phone, waving it past the transfer port on White's desktop computer.
"Open that, I've mapped it all out."
White opened the file and a map appeared on the screen, which he swivelled around so that they could both see.
"It appears to have started fourteen months ago in Iran. I'm not saying it was all this group but there's some sort of network doing this, barring a huge series of coincidences." He picked up a pen from the desk and used it to point at the map. "The first incident was a small fire and a stoning at a clinic in Tehran that was working on computer chips for brain implants. A few weeks later... well, hover over the dots and you can see for yourself."
White moved the cursor over the dots in numerical order. As he did so each brought up a date, location and brief description of a fire, mortar attack, armed assault, sabotage or conflagration at some sort of technology research facility. His cursor traced a line from Iran through Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Egypt, Libya, Spain, Switzerland and Germany, ending in Cambridge three days ago.
"I'm running all this through several bits of analysis software to see if I can make sense of the pattern and work out why they missed out certain countries."
"Like France," said White.
"Exactly. Like I said, it may not all be the same group, but the dates would easily allow for travel between all the locations. It would take a few days but do you want me to investigate this properly - find out exactly what these facilities were working on and how it links with Cambridge?"
"I think that would be a very profitable use of your time. Well done, John. Then I can have something concrete to confront the evasive bastards with."