Double Cross: A gripping political thriller (The Cadre Book 3)

by Stephen Edger

  ‘But you don’t understand. If this guy can help us get to The Cadre then he’ll end up leading us to Maria, if they have taken her.’

  ‘I don’t give a shit about finding the members of that group. They fucked me over once before, and I’m not prepared to let them do it again. I’m sorry, Aaron, but feel free to go and meet some stranger in Vegas, or wherever it is you’re going. I’m going to find Maria, with or without your help.’

  Dylan slid out of the booth and stormed towards the door of the diner, pushing it aside as he headed out into the mall.

  14

  The man with the shamrock tattoo had arrived at the motel thirty minutes ago. He’d been disappointed to learn that the four local state troopers he had invested the client’s money in had failed to make any progress in tracking down the targets. They had at least managed to find a large map of the state and had also arranged for three trained sniffer dogs to be delivered to the site.

  ‘What do you mean you don’t have access to a chopper?’ he had shouted angrily.

  ‘You wanted to keep this manhunt quiet. Helicopter means paperwork and questions, amigo.’

  He had spread out the map on the bonnet of his car and quickly found their present location.

  ‘Did you search the trees?’ he had demanded.

  The captain had shrugged.

  ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! When you arrived at the motel, the room was empty and the bathroom window was open; you didn’t think that they might have run towards the trees directly opposite the window? Is this fucking amateur hour?’

  The captain hadn’t really understood the question, but hadn’t mistaken the tone. The man with the shamrock tattoo had traced his finger on the map from the motel, through the green area in a straight line, and found himself pointing at the main road that ran to San Antonio.

  ‘Well gentlemen,’ he had concluded, ‘the race is on. If I catch up with the two men before you, I’m keeping your fucking fee.’

  With that he had climbed into his car and sped out of the car park, the map flying upwards, leaving the four troopers staring at a cloud of dust.

  Where would I go, he’d asked himself. If I was running, where would I go?

  He had nearly missed the sign for the mall, and only spotted it when he was yards from the highway’s exit. He had pulled hard right, cutting in front of a school bus, and continued up into the mall’s car park.

  Food, phone and shelter: that’s what they’ll seek.

  Sure enough, as he had waited in the car park, deciding which entrance to approach, he had spotted Aaron pacing outside the mall, talking on the phone. He had watched as Aaron had headed back into the mall towards the food court, and was about to follow at a distance when he saw Dylan emerge from the same entrance. The young man had looked angry, but rather than heading anywhere in particular, he had plonked down on a bench immediately outside of the building.

  ‘I’ve found them, sir,’ he said into his phone, eager to report some good news to The Chairman.

  ‘Good. Where are they?’ the Yorkshireman replied calmly.

  ‘At a local shopping mall. It’s not too busy at the moment; do you want me to take them out now? I can make it quick and clean.’

  ‘No,’ The Chairman barked. ‘You can’t kill them yet. I need Taylor alive. I need to know if he’s told anyone what he knows. The operation is at a delicate point right now. I need you to bring him back to London alive. There will be a time when he is no longer of use, and at that point, I will call upon your specialist services. In the meantime, I need you to keep him safe and bring him to me. I will arrange for my jet to be fuelled and ready for your use at the airfield.’

  ‘What about the other one? You want me to bring Cross back too?’

  ‘That young man really is proving to be meddlesome. Why he couldn’t just leave things alone, I’ll never know. My biggest pet hate is people who stick their nose into my business without an invitation.’

  ‘I could have him buried out here if you’d like?’

  ‘It’s a tempting notion, but I have other plans for Mr Cross.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘We intercepted a call made by Cross. It would seem he is on his way to Fallon in Nevada.’

  ‘Nevada? Why the hell is he going there?’

  ‘We believe he’s going to meet another person of interest. I need him to make that rendezvous. Is that clear? I need for you to arrange safe passage for him over the border.’

  ‘What about Taylor? I can’t be in two places at once.’

  ‘You’re a resourceful man. Taylor is your priority. Use your local contacts to support Cross’ safe passage.’

  ‘Whatever you say, sir. I’d hate to be on your naughty list.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Uh, sorry sir, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. It’s just…you know, like Santa Claus, those who have been naughty…I didn’t mean to cause offence.’

  ‘You should watch that you don’t end up on my list!’

  The man with the shamrock tattoo accepted the chiding and promised he would call again once he had Taylor in custody.

  As he continued to watch out of the window, he saw Aaron appear on the bench next to Dylan. He was tempted to move closer to listen in to their conversation but the risk was too great. He remained where he was and watched.

  *

  ‘I know you’re angry,’ Aaron began, as he sat down on the bench, ‘but I can’t stress enough how important this new contact could be. I appreciate that you just want to find your girlfriend and I admire that single-mindedness. However, there is a much bigger game going on, and you and I are the only ones left who can stop The Cadre.’

  ‘Do you know how clichéd you sound right now? This isn’t a movie, Aaron; this is real life. I’m no hero. I have done things in my life that I sincerely regret. I don’t care what The Cadre have planned. We live in a world filled with selfish people, all looking to get ahead of the next man. So what if The Chairman of General Financial wants to start a war, or whatever he’s got planned? It’s none of my fucking business! I just want to find Maria and Elena and forget that I was ever stupid enough to get involved in any of this.’

  ‘You done feeling sorry for yourself? It’s time to wake up, Dylan. You’re a part of this whether you want to be or not. You might not have chosen this fight, but what goes around comes around. You chose to kill Dreyfuss. Yeah, someone paid you to do it, but you could have said no.’

  ‘I didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘Bullshit! You chose to do whatever it took to be with Maria. It’s not the most selfish of motives; in fact in some way it’s almost noble, but the fact remains that you chose your own future over that of the former Prime Minister. Did you ever stop to think about his friends and family? Probably not.’ Aaron paused for a moment. ‘I’m not blaming you for what happened. If I’d have been in your shoes, I’d have probably made the same call. The point I’m trying to make is that your life is now intrinsically connected with the outcome of this fight. Somebody has to stop them. Too many people have died already. We need to spread the word; we need to tell as many people as possible what we know. We need to do whatever it takes to identify the members of the group and bring them to the attention of the authorities. We need to do it for Connor and his parents. We need to do it for my uncle and my cousin. We need to do it for every life they have ripped through to achieve their ends. Now, I’m going to Fallon to meet with Victoria and her contact. I urge you to come with me.’

  ‘Wow! You spend a long time rehearsing that speech? I understand what you are trying to do, and I applaud your effort, but I am not a soldier. You think they can be stopped? Good for you; I wish you luck. As for me, there is nothing I care more about in this world than Maria and Elena. They are my priority and I will still do whatever it takes to find them. I don’t care if it takes me to the end of time, but I will find them. Alive or dead, I will find them. I really hope you can identify and stop
The Cadre, but sometimes good doesn’t overcome evil. You’d do well to remember that.’

  ‘I’m going to use some of the money we took from the dead trooper to hire a car. Can I drop you anywhere on my way?’

  Dylan shook his head. ‘I’m going to make my way back to Las Iguanas, and if Maria hasn’t shown up by the end of the week, I’m going to head to Miami and hire that private eye we talked about. You going to risk the border?’

  Aaron sighed. ‘I don’t have any other choice. I’m sure The Cadre will be watching, but I doubt they’re stupid enough to do anything to me in such a public space. I also doubt they’ve allowed our names and faces to reach the media, as they’ll want to keep this as quiet as possible. If all else fails, I still have enough money left in the satchel to offer a decent bribe.’

  Aaron stood up and began to move away, turning at the last minute. ‘It was good to meet you, Dylan. I really hope you find your girlfriend and her daughter. You’ve got my number in your phone; if you have any problems or need someone to talk to, give me a call. I’d say I hope to see you again one day, but I’m not sure we’ll meet again.’

  Dylan nodded and wished Aaron good luck. Taking the change he had left from their purchases that morning, Dylan began to walk to the bus station across from the mall.

  15

  SOUTHAMPTON, UK

  17:00 (G.M.T.)

  ‘Where the hell are we going, man? Travelling from Fratton to the New Forest in rush-hour traffic is not your brightest move, that’s for sure.’

  ‘We’re nearly there, Guv,’ Kyle said.

  ‘Good, it’s taken long enough! This better be worth it; we could have been in the pub right now!’

  ‘It will be worth it, Guv.’

  ‘And you’re not going to tell me where we’re going or who we’re meeting?’

  ‘Trust me, Guv. We need someone we can share our theory with; someone we know isn’t involved in the conspiracy.’

  White decided not to argue and changed the radio station. Kyle followed the road to Lymington and five minutes after they had passed through the town centre, he pulled onto a long gravel driveway, shrouded in tall evergreen bushes.

  ‘Where are we, man?’ White demanded.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Kyle grinned, relieved that he’d managed to keep the D.I. guessing.

  The driveway widened and, as they followed the course to the left, a large bungalow appeared before them, with a conservatory to the side aspect. White spotted the owner of the house through the glass immediately.

  ‘Mercure? You’ve brought us to former D.C.I. Mercure’s house? No way, Kyle! This is your independent someone? The woman who oversaw the incident; are you mental?’

  ‘Hear me out, Guv. She knows some of the background of the case, she understands police procedure, and she lost more than most that day, so we can be certain that she’s not involved in the conspiracy.’

  ‘Heck, man, she’s not exactly an advocate for officers relying on their gut instincts. She’ll kick us out for our total lack of evidence.’

  ‘I disagree, Guv. She lost her career and pension; she has more to gain from us proving our theory than anyone else. I think she’ll listen.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool, man.’

  ‘Look, Guv, I didn’t always see eye to eye with her, in fact there was a time when I wanted nothing to do with her, but I now understand why she acted as she did. She’s all we’ve got.’

  Kyle pulled the car to a stop and the two walked towards the front door. Kyle pressed the doorbell. The sound of creaking floorboards was followed by the old oak door opening. A man in brown corduroys and a beige cardigan greeted them. It was hard to estimate his age, although the vain attempt at a sweep over to cover his shiny head, suggested he was in his mid-sixties at least.

  ‘Yes?’ the man said gruffly.

  ‘Mr Mercure? My name’s Detective Sergeant Kyle Davies and this this is my D.I., Tony White. We used to work with your wife. Is she home?’

  ‘No, she isn’t,’ the man replied.

  ‘Please, sir,’ Kyle continued, ‘we don’t wish to cause her any trouble, we were just hoping for ten minutes of her time. I understand if…’

  ‘She’s not here,’ the man replied bluntly. ‘Tell me what this is about and I might get her to call you when she returns.’

  ‘She’s in the flamin’ conservatory,’ White interrupted. ‘I’ve seen her. Just let us in, man.’

  ‘It’s okay Walter,’ a frail voice said from inside. ‘You can let them in.’

  The man turned to address his wife. ‘We agreed that it wasn’t good for you.’

  ‘Just let them in, Walter,’ she repeated, cutting him off.

  The door opened wider, and the man in the cardigan beckoned them in. Kyle went first, not sure of the correct etiquette when greeting a former boss: should he shake her hand or give her a hug? She didn’t give him the chance to do either, as she turned quickly and headed back towards the conservatory.

  ‘What do you want?’ she demanded when the three of them were seated.

  ‘You’re looking well,’ Kyle began.

  Her once blonde hair was now silver, almost white, yet her skin was relatively smooth, except for around the eyes. She removed a cigarette from a packet before idly tossing the empty carton to the floor.

  ‘What do you want?’ she repeated.

  ‘Is this yours?’ Kyle said, casually pointing at an easel and canvas to his right. The painting was of a bowl of fruit, but was nowhere near complete. ‘I didn’t realise you were so artistic.’

  She smiled thinly, never one to enjoy small talk. ‘Who sent you?’ she asked as she inhaled.

  ‘Sent us?’ Kyle asked, glancing at White. ‘Nobody sent us, Ma’am. We’re here of our own accord.’

  ‘Don’t call me Ma’am. I have no rank.’

  ‘What would you prefer I call you? Mrs Mercure? Janet?’ Kyle pushed.

  ‘You don’t need to call me anything. What you need to do is tell me what you’re doing at my house before I ask Walter to escort you out.’

  Kyle was surprised by her attitude, but continued. ‘Okay, well, we believe that there is a major conspiracy in the city, and that the terrorist attacks back in May were merely the catalyst for something far grander.’

  ‘And this has what to do with me?’

  ‘We believe the conspirators include members of the force, so we were hoping that…’

  ‘That I’d what? Make a citizen’s arrest?’ she challenged bitterly. ‘I am no longer a member of Hampshire Constabulary, in case it had escaped your attention.’

  ‘Please, Jan, just hear us out.’

  ‘You wish to discuss an open investigation with a member of the public? Davies, you know better than that. And as for you, White, I’m shocked that you’re encouraging this kind of behaviour.’

  White ignored the bait. Kyle couldn’t.

  ‘Do you remember when you first joined the force, Ma’am? Idealistic? Determined to protect the public at all costs? What happened to that woman? We’ve come here today because you’re the only person who can help us make sense of what we know. There is something massive going on in Southampton, and you need to stand up and do your duty.’

  She smiled at his attempts to rile her. ‘You’re right of course,’ she admitted. ‘I was idealistic once; naïve too. That person served this city for decades and was chewed up and spat out by the system she was serving. You think there’s some big conspiracy going on? Good for you. I don’t give a shit!’

  ‘So, what…you’re going to just ignore us and continue painting baskets of fruit?’

  ‘I happen to have a very fulfilling life, thank you very much! I’m on the board of governors at the local secondary school, I’m head of the parish council at my church and that takes up a large proportion of my time. I wake up every morning and take my dogs for a long walk along the beach, and I cherish every day that I’m not stuck in an office sifting through paperwork because some bureaucrat somewhere has decided there j
ust aren’t enough forms for us to fill out.’

  Kyle remained silent, pondering whether he was wasting his time.

  ‘We’ll go,’ White said, standing and holding his hands out apologetically.

  ‘Wait!’ Kyle said, touching his arm. ‘I’m not finished yet. I came here today with a purpose, and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve fulfilled that.’

  Kyle began to pace whilst he found the words he was looking for. ‘There’s an old saying about retired police officers: once a cop, always a cop. They reckon that a police officer’s brain becomes so in tune with detecting wrongdoing that, even when they retire, their mind continues to look for wrongdoing even when there isn’t any. It’s said that retired officers busy themselves with mundane activities, just to keep their minds active. They volunteer as Magistrates; they take part-time work as security guards; they paint pictures, chair committees and take dogs for long walks on the beach. I don’t know whether you’re trying to kid me or yourself, but I know this, Jan: you’re not happy here. You’ve every reason to hate the system for what it did to you! Hell, you made an impossible decision and were left to hang for it. You should have been commended for the bravery you showed, not vilified. I don’t know what I would have done in that impossible situation: execute the passenger most likely to hold the detonator, or do nothing and let the bus explode. Did you make the right call? I don’t know, but at least you made a call…but that’s all done with. You were dismissed for gross misconduct and lost your pension. You got screwed. So, it would be easy for you to stay here feeling sorry for yourself, and cursing those of us that continue to serve the system that hurt you so much, but that’s not what a true detective would do. The real Jan Mercure is boiling up inside, desperate to prove everybody else wrong. Well this is your chance, Ma’am. This is something your soul has been craving, so rather than self-pity, show me the spirit that made you sign up all those years ago!’