‘Does the name Jock McManus mean anything to you?’ White interrupted, unable to contain his excitement.
Stead shook his head. ‘I’m not at liberty to discuss the names of specific targets we have at this time, but I can’t say I’m familiar with that name, no.’
‘Really? He’s Scottish; has a massive network up north, like. You’ve really not heard of him?’
Stead shrugged. ‘Listen, we have a wanted list and that name doesn’t appear on it.’
‘So who is the big fish you’re after?’ White pressed.
‘I’m sorry, White, I’m not at liberty to say right now.’
‘Come on, man. Where’s the harm? Look, I’ll level with you: my D.S. and I are investigating connections between McManus’ operation and movements down here. I have it on good authority that he is starting to branch into these pastures, and I want to know who he might be dealing with.’
‘Whose authority?
‘Come again?’
‘Who’s told you that he’s branching out?’
‘I have a source inside his operation,’ White lied.
‘Really? An undercover?’
White shrugged.
Stead leaned in so he wouldn’t be overheard. ‘Okay, okay, our main target is a Russian called Victor Stratovsky. He’s the nephew of Nicolai Stratovsky, the former head of the Russian mafia in London. We believe Victor is re-launching his late uncle’s business, with strong ties to Southampton. I have an undercover in his crew, and we believe something big is on the horizon.’
‘I’ve never heard of him,’ White admitted.
‘I have, Guv,’ Kyle piped up. ‘We had an undercover officer in Nicolai Stratovsky’s operation a few years back. A young D.C. called Ali Jacobs. She became Victor’s girlfriend until he had her killed for betraying him. You must have heard about the case? An ex-con called Mark Baines helped bring an end to Nicolai’s empire. It made the press. Victor claimed that Ali was in love with him until Baines convinced her to turn on him. Victor vowed he would get his vengeance one day, but I guess he’s still waiting. Anyway, Victor was on remand for a bit, but the C.P.S. had to drop the charges when a number of witnesses either disappeared or retracted their statements. My old D.I. was due to testify about the Southampton end of Nicolai’s operation.’
‘You know your history,’ Stead admitted. ‘We’ve not been as close as that until now. My guy is still on the periphery at the moment but he’s getting closer.’
‘So let’s say my suspect was trying to import through Southampton, Stratovsky’s the guy he’d need to deal with?’
‘That’s right,’ Stead said.
‘Well, you need to let me speak with your U.C. then,’ White declared.
Stead laughed. ‘No chance, pal.’
‘Come on, man, he might know if McManus has spoken to Stratovsky and, if he has, I can nail him.’
‘There’s no way I’m sharing my guy with anyone. He’s been in character for over two years; I’m not letting anyone jeopardise that.’
‘Come on, Stead, I only want to speak with your man, like.’
‘No, White. I’ve told you: he’s off limits. There’s a helluva lot riding on him; his life for one thing.’
‘Could you mention McManus’ name to him, sir?’ Kyle asked, seeking a compromise.
Stead looked from one to the other. ‘Okay, if it means that much to you, I’ll mention the name to my U.C. and see what he’s heard. But that’s it. Am I clear?’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Kyle said.
‘When are you seeing him next?’ White pressed.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s due to check in with me tomorrow.’
‘And you’ll ask him then?’
Kyle could see that Stead was losing his patience. ‘We’ll wait for your call, sir,’ he pacified.
‘If you leave me your card, I’ll call you once I’ve spoken to my U.C. Now, if you don’t mind gentlemen, I have a meeting to go to.’
Kyle and White headed for the door, and then turned into the corridor. White nearly swore when he saw who was walking towards them.
‘D.S. Davies,’ Eve Partridge said as she passed them. ‘Have you managed to close the Paul Burns case yet?’
‘Uh…nearly, ma’am, just have a couple of loose ends to tie up.’
‘You can call me Eve, D.S. Davies. I am only civilian oversight; I have no rank. Detective Inspector White, I trust you are settling into our city well?’
‘Aye, it’s starting to grow on me.’
‘Good, good. Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a Fortress briefing to attend. I do hope the Burns case will be closed soon, D.S. Davies. It was a horrible business, and the sooner it’s closed, the better for everyone. Good day.’
With that, she turned her back and walked towards Stead’s office.
‘That was a turn up for the books,’ White said when they were outside and walking towards their car.
Kyle nodded. ‘I hadn’t realised she was involved with Fortress as well. It makes you think, doesn’t it?’
‘Aye. Why was the civilian oversight of the county’s biggest anti-drugs operation meeting secretly with a major drug importer this morning? Your theory is beginning to feel more likely, man.’
‘I was thinking the same thing. I know it’s thin, but I think we need someone else to have a look at this.’
‘I told you: we can’t take this to Naomi Payne.’
‘That’s not what I was thinking, Guv.’
‘Who did you have in mind then, man?’
‘You’ll see,’ Kyle said, smiling.
11
TIJUANA, MEXICO
06:45 (P.S.T.)
The squeak was what Aaron heard first. He was very much asleep, but it was the squeak that stirred his first senses. Not mouse-like, yet still very familiar. His subconscious silently gnawed away at what it might have been. It only happened once, but now his conscious mind was starting to get involved in the deduction too.
A car?
No, that wasn’t it.
A car’s brakes?
Bingo!
The squeak had been a car’s brakes. Not an unusual sound, given that he was sleeping in a motel, with the car park just beyond the thin panel door. In fact, on its own, a rather innocuous sound. But he’d heard it, and now he was listening out for more sounds.
A crack of some sort.
No, not a crack; and not a bang. Again, it was a familiar sound that he couldn’t quite place. It reminded him of crushing an aluminium can in his hand; that scratching of metal on metal.
A car door?
Yes, but no; there was an echo to the sound too, as if more than one car door had been opened at the same time. Maybe three or four car doors being opened at the same time.
Again, on its own, this wasn’t an unusual sound to hear first thing in the morning at a motel. However, what now had his conscious mind fully engaged, and his eyes beginning to open, was the sound that was missing.
Nobody had closed their doors.
Thirty seconds had passed since the doors had been opened so why had not a single occupant closed their door? Was there really a family sitting in the car park with their doors open, on what was probably a chilly December morning?
The room had just enough light coming through the window for him to distinguish the outline of the television set and the unit it was sat upon. To the right of that, a thin rim of light framed the bedroom door. He carefully rolled his sheet back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and that’s when he heard it.
A loud whisper: a sound that was innocent on its own, but when combined with the screech of a car’s brakes and the sound of four car doors being opened simultaneously, without being closed, it spelt danger.
He moved swiftly to the bedroom window, and lifted the corner of the blind so he could see who was approaching outside. He spotted the gold ‘Policia’ logo on the officer’s shirt sleeve first, and as his gaze followed the man’s arm, he saw
the cocked pistol in his hands. He was signalling for two of the other officers to circle around to the back of the motel, and for the other to leave the car and provide him with back up.
Aaron headed straight for the bathroom, across the room from the front door. There was a narrow window above the toilet, maybe three feet wide by two feet deep. He had no time to devise a back-up plan. He opened the window as wide as he could, before rushing back into the room and clamping a hand down on Dylan’s mouth. The sudden action caused Dylan’s eyes to pop open. He was confused when he saw Aaron.
‘Men outside with guns,’ Aaron whispered right into his ear. ‘Make no noise and follow me. There is a window in the bathroom we need to go through. I’ll grab your shoes. Get out the window without a sound.’
Dylan nodded and, as the hand was released, he did as he had been told. He wasn’t convinced he would fit through the window and stared at it in silence as if trying to think of an alternative plan. Aaron was behind him with the satchel in no time and, pushing him out of the way, was up on the toilet and pushing himself head first through the window in no time. Dylan copied the action, albeit, not quite so effortlessly.
The cold hit him first. He was still wearing the ill-fitting clothes from the night before, but the temperature now was in stark contrast to what it had been under the sheets in the room. Aaron tore off into some nearby trees and Dylan instinctively followed, trying to ignore the pain as his feet trod on stones and small twigs. Aaron stopped and ducked down about fifty feet into the trees. Dylan joined him and put on his shoes. Aaron held a finger up to his lips and pointed back towards the motel. Dylan glanced up just in time to see two officers poke their heads through the open window, as another two men, with guns drawn appeared from around the corner. They were too far away to hear what was being said, but it was clear that one of them was reporting their findings back to somebody on the end of a phone.
Aaron touched Dylan’s arm, and keeping a finger to his lips, pointed where he wanted them to run to. Dylan nodded his understanding and the two of them tore off, keeping as low as possible and hoping that the noise of twigs snapping and leaves rustling underfoot wouldn’t be heard by the men at the motel.
*
‘What do you mean their room is empty? Where the hell are they?’ the man with the shamrock tattoo shouted into the phone.
‘Señor, we went to the motel, but the room…it was empty. They escaped.’
The man with the shamrock tattoo lowered the phone and closed his eyes letting out a deep sigh. For the second time in a day, his best laid plans had been screwed up by the ‘local help’. His client was not going to be happy with this report. He raised the phone back to his ear.
‘Look around: is there anywhere they could be hiding?’
There was a pause on the other end of the line as the State Police officer looked around. ‘There’s nowhere to hide Señor.’
‘Bullshit! Look harder. They’re there somewhere. You’re being paid muchos pesos to track these two men.’
The man with the shamrock tattoo listened as orders were barked out in rapid Spanish, not that he understood a word of it. He was amazed that the simple operation of locating and collecting Dylan Taylor had gone so wrong. The Chairman had originally been informed that Taylor had died in a fire, only to later discover that he had survived and boarded a cargo ship to the U.S. The man with the shamrock tattoo had been quickly dispatched to Miami to intercept Taylor and his girlfriend before they could share their knowledge of The Cadre with anyone else.
He had watched Taylor arrive in Miami and slowly make his way to the west coast of the country. He had followed at a distance, using the GPS tracker that had been planted on board the ship. Everything had been going to plan until he had learned that the British Embassy had dispatched an official to collect Taylor and another Briton. He had tried to act quickly to keep Taylor at the police station, but the chief had been unable to ignore the Embassy’s request and so Taylor had slipped through his fingers. He’d phoned The Chairman to report the issue and had been told in no uncertain terms to intercept the vehicle. Again, he had naively deployed the locals to carry out the job, a decision he had regretted ever since. Two dead Embassy staff and a dead state police trooper later, he was still no closer to capturing Taylor.
He’d followed the GPS tracker to a local man who had stopped to help the occupants of the car. The man with the shamrock tattoo had been livid when he’d learned that Taylor had ditched his clothes and promptly shot the man who had stopped to help. With Taylor in the wilderness, he had subsequently learned that the man with him was also a person of interest to The Chairman.
He had received a call two hours ago to advise that the owner of a motel had identified the two men the police were looking for. The motel owner had become suspicious when he had been paid with a thousand peso note. He had phoned the state police to report his suspicions and had been told not to alert the men.
‘Señor, they are not here; I am sorry. We will find them again, I promise,’ the trooper said into the phone.
‘If you want a job done, do it yourself,’ he muttered.’
‘Señor?’
‘Get hold of a large map of the state and your best tracking dogs,’ he growled into the phone. I am coming to your location and we will hunt these men down. Is that clear?’
12
Aaron and Dylan stopped running when the wooded area suddenly became a road.
‘Where do you think we are now?’ Dylan asked breathlessly.
Aaron gulped in air. ‘The sign says we’re a couple of kilometres from San Antonio. I guess we keep walking that way.’
‘That’s crazy! They’re more likely to find us.’
‘I disagree,’ Aaron said, shaking his head. ‘We’re safer if we hide in plain sight. Besides, I’m hungry and we both need some clean clothes. At least this way should have a mall or something.’
Dylan wasn’t prepared to argue, despite his reservations. ‘Let’s at least walk under the cover of the trees. Those state police are more likely to stop if they see two men at the side of the road.’
‘Agreed,’ Aaron said, moving back beneath the low hanging branches. ‘You think they’re following us?’
Dylan glanced back over his shoulder. ‘I’m not sure. I couldn’t hear anyone running behind us, but then I could barely hear anything over my own gasping.’
‘I’ll say one thing for all this chasing: it’s great exercise.’
‘Speak for yourself! I’ve not run this much since I was in school. I hated it then, and I hate it now.’
They walked some more until Dylan broke the silence. ‘Have you any idea how they might have found us at the motel? I mean, we ditched my clothes, so I can’t have been wearing a tracer.’
‘I was wondering the same thing myself. All the more reason for us both to get some new clothes. We should pick up a couple of pay-as-you-go mobiles too; so we can keep in touch in case we get separated.’
‘You know, those deputies are the third group to try and kill me in the last twelve hours. First, the guy in the bar, then the cop who killed Dickinson, and now them. I’m more certain than ever that The Cadre are involved.’
‘I concur, which is all the more reason for us to try and locate your girlfriend, if…’ Aaron trailed off.
‘It’s okay. You can say it: if she’s still alive. I know it’s likely they’ve got to her already, but she’s pretty resourceful. I have to believe that she’s still alive.’
‘If it was me trying to keep you quiet, I wouldn’t kill her. She’s worth more to them alive than dead. If anything, killing her would be more likely to push you into exposing them.’
‘We’re assuming they have her; there’s every chance she’s alive and well and making her way to meet me still. It’s kind of why I need to get back to Las Iguanas.’
‘Go back? Are you mad? Listen: I’m all for keeping a positive attitude about Maria’s whereabouts, but going back to where they first picked you up is cra
zy!’
‘Even so, if Maria is free, she’ll be going there to find me. If I’m not there to meet her, they’ll definitely find her. I don’t have a choice.’
‘Is there anyone she might have tried to get hold of? You know, to pass a message onto?’
‘She might have tried to call Connor. He’s the friend in England I was telling you about. He’s the reason we managed to get away in the first place. He knows all about The Cadre. I suppose if Maria needed to get a message to me, she might have reached out to him. I can try and phone him when we get one.’
‘We’ll have to be careful though. If he knows about The Cadre, then I’m assuming they know about him, which means they’ll be monitoring all his communications.’
‘Oh they know about him alright.’ Dylan said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The last time I saw him, he told me he was going to confront The Chairman of General Financial outright. He was convinced that The Chairman was the leader of the group and had a full list of others who were involved.’
‘He had a list? Who was on it?’
‘I don’t remember any names. He described them as the heads of industry.’
‘We need to find that list, Dylan. It could be the key to what’s going on. I know my uncle was on to something when he was killed, and I need to find out what.’
The two men were silent for the next kilometre, until they saw a sign for the San Antonio Mall. Although the shops weren’t open yet, an American-style diner was open in the food court. Dylan ordered a plate of bacon and pancakes, whilst Aaron opted for two eggs over easy and a side order of toast. Both men ordered coffee and orange juice. Dylan used a payphone at the back of the diner to try and phone Connor in London. His mobile number had been disconnected and there was no answer on the home phone.
‘Any luck?’ Aaron asked, as Dylan slid back into the booth.
Dylan shook his head. ‘No answer on either. It’s possible he’s still at work, I suppose. What time would it be there?’
Double Cross: A gripping political thriller (The Cadre Book 3) Page 7