And Then You're Dead

by Dan Latus

  ‘Better get on the phone, George,’ he said gruffly.

  George mulled it over a few more minutes before he dug out his phone and made the call.

  ‘Out on the golf course, Ted?’

  There was a wry chuckle at the other end. ‘I should be. Maybe I would be doing myself more good. How’s it going over there, George?’

  ‘Good, Ted. Real good. I’ve got some information for you about that depot at last. Remember we talked about it?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Great. I could do with some good news. So what you got?’

  ‘Got pen and paper handy? I’m going to give you the coordinates.’

  ‘One moment. Right. Go ahead.’

  George read out the sequence of twelve digits taken from his GPS.

  ‘That’s great. Thanks, George. It beggars belief that we have no record of this depot, but there it is.’

  ‘How did that happen, do you suppose?’

  ‘It was off the books, George. Secret, secret. Viktor Sirko was commissioned to manage it, and we relied on him to do it well.’

  He didn’t do it too well, George thought. All that dangerous stuff jammed in together? A nightmare!

  ‘What will be in it, Ted? Anything special?’

  ‘Just the usual. Supplies. Equipment. Weapons. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Just wondering if there’s likely to be anything dangerous there, anything real nasty.’

  There was a pause. Then Ted said suspiciously, ‘Where are you, George?’

  ‘The same place.’

  After a significant pause, Ted said, ‘Oh, yeah. I see that now. The Northumberland place. Still looking for Olsson’s killer?’

  ‘Still looking.’

  ‘Keep looking, George. Meanwhile, I’ll see to it that the people who count in Ukraine get this information. The contents of that depot will be important to them. They’re desperately short of the armaments they need to stop the Russian advance in the east, and we can’t send them anything at all.’

  ‘That bad, huh?’

  ‘Damn right. The President doesn’t want to upset our wonderful allies in Europe, who all want to continue with the diplomatic arts, while Ukrainian boys are getting blown away by weapons they can’t match. We’ve lost our bottle, as the Brits say. We don’t want to escalate this thing with Russia. Putin is laughing at us!’

  ‘I heard he said he could have troops in Warsaw, Prague and everywhere else in a fortnight, if he chose to.’

  ‘I tell you, George. We’re running scared. Until we get a new president, Putin can do whatever the hell he likes. We won’t even try to stop him.

  ‘But maybe this depot will help our allies on the ground a little bit. I’d like to arrange for that before I take my leave of this town, and shuffle off out of here.

  ‘And you’ve done your bit, George. I thank you. All that’s left for you to do now is settle with Jack Olsson’s killer. Then we’re both done.’

  Chapter Forty-One

  There was a period of silence after George switched off his phone. A flurry of snow pattered against the windscreen. The car rocked a little.

  ‘Wind’s getting up,’ George remarked at last.

  John nodded. ‘Could be a cold night. I just hope we don’t get a lot of snow overnight. It could complicate things.’

  ‘The charge?’

  ‘Yeah. I was thinking of adding a fuse to the detonator, as back-up in case the phone doesn’t work.’

  ‘It’s well protected, isn’t it?’

  John grimaced. ‘It should be all right. And it wouldn’t be hard to hide our tracks if we did go back.’

  ‘Well, we don’t need to go back for any other reason. How likely is it that the phone won’t work?’

  John shrugged. ‘No idea. The cold could be a problem, but I don’t really know. Whatever we do, or don’t do, it will be a gamble.’

  George thought about it. ‘Leave it,’ he said. ‘We’ll take the risk.’

  That said, and tacitly agreed, John waited a moment before saying, ‘This Ted, your boss. He thinks you’re still back in Northumberland?’

  ‘Yeah. I thought he might monitor the signal on the phone he gave me to use. I didn’t want that. So I left it back there. As I suspected he might do, he checked.’

  You wily old devil! John thought with amusement. That’s what came from a lifetime of experience, he supposed.

  ‘So what do you think now, having spoken to him?’

  George gave a heavy sigh and straightened up in his seat. ‘I don’t think Ted’s after the Olsson money – or any other money, if it comes to that. He’ll have enough already to fund his retirement. I don’t believe he’s a real greedy guy.

  ‘But I don’t know yet if he was the leak. If he was, it will be because he’s sick and tired of watching the Russian aggression in eastern Ukraine go unanswered. He wants the contents of that depot released to the Ukrainians. He wants to help them, but he can’t go against the President, the Congress, and everyone else in official Washington. This is a way around that embargo. He wants to take it.’

  ‘I’m not sure where that leaves us,’ John said reflectively.

  ‘Out in the cold!’ George chuckled without sounding amused. ‘I don’t know about you, son, but if anyone gets their hands on what’s in that cave, I wouldn’t trust them not to use it. If they don’t use it themselves, they’ll sell or pass it on to someone who will.’

  ‘That sounds about right.’ John sighed wearily. ‘I liked this country, the time I spent here. Hell, it’s my wife’s homeland! So lily-livered though it might sound, I would rather see it back under Russian occupation than devastated by chemical weapons.’

  ‘Me, too. I’ve seen up close how those things work.’

  ‘So we’re in agreement – we’re still going to blow the damned thing up?’

  ‘You bet,’ George said. ‘But first let’s see if anyone turns up here. Let’s see if Ted is the leak.’

  ‘How long do we give it? A couple of days?’

  ‘Or until the food runs out,’ George said wryly. ‘I’m not sure this is good hunting country.’

  ‘Oh, it is!’ John assured him. ‘But your snoring is likely to get me down if we have to wait longer than a couple of days.’

  Chapter Forty-Two

  It was a hard night. They were warm enough in their sleeping bags inside the car, but the wind howled and the snow flew all night long, shaking and rattling them constantly. In the morning the storm had passed on, leaving a fresh, white world.

  They struggled out and got themselves moving early. After a cup of coffee and more bread and salami, they set off, heading up onto the ridge overlooking the vicinity of the cave. It was hard going in knee-deep snow. As the younger and stronger man, John took the lead by unspoken agreement and broke trail. George made use of the footprints he left behind.

  Leaving evidence of their passing didn’t matter, as they were approaching the ridge overlooking the Dniester valley, and the vicinity of the cave, from the far side of the low range of hills. The plan was to go nowhere near the cave. Up on the ridge, they would be a good half mile away. John just hoped they didn’t freeze to death while they were waiting to see if anyone came. A few hours would be all right, but they couldn’t spend a night up there.

  The prospect didn’t seem to worry his companion. Tough old bugger, George, he thought with a wry smile. No doubt, as a sniper, he’d done plenty of waiting in his time. Not always in comfort, either. And he was a hunter. So he would have inner resources of fortitude and resilience to call upon when needed. He’d better have, John thought grimly. They had let themselves in for a challenging vigil.

  It was bitterly cold up on the hills. Heads down against a rising wind that hadn’t been apparent at lower levels, they soldiered on, tramping their way towards the crest of the ridge. Fortunately, the snow wasn’t so deep higher up, which helped them make better progress.

  John paused when they reached the ridge. George drew level with him and they looked down on the
copse of woodland close to the cave entrance.

  ‘Around here would be good,’ John suggested, squinting against the icy wind as he turned to face his companion.

  George nodded. ‘We’re close enough, and we’ve got a good view. We need to get down out of this wind, though.’

  He pointed downslope a dozen feet, or so. ‘Let’s dig in down there. No need to stay up here.’

  It made sense. John led the way down to the spot George had pointed out. Off the summit ridge, they were sheltered from the wind, and digging into the snow patch gave them even greater protection from it. They both knew, too, that packed in snow they would suffer less body heat loss.

  ‘I don’t know how long we’ll be able to last out,’ George said, ‘but we’ll give it a go. Better keep an eye on each other, and check every half hour for signs of frostbite or hypothermia.’

  John nodded. ‘Like you, George, I’ve done this sort of thing before – but a while ago now.’

  ‘Where was that?’

  ‘You don’t want to know. You don’t need to know!’

  ‘Arctic Norway?’

  ‘There as well.’

  George chuckled. ‘They once had me stationed over there in Poland, close to the Russian border.’

  ‘Could have been worse. You could have been guarding the Aleutian islands, in case some Ruskies tried to slip across from Siberia to Alaska.’

  ‘Don’t I know it. Fortunately, they didn’t think they needed a sniper there.’

  ‘That what you were?’

  ‘Yeah. But not an army sniper. I was better than that. More specialized. More of a hitman.’

  ‘Good to have you along, in that case!’

  They took turns to watch the target area. A half hour observing; then a half hour resting and doing exercises in the snow hole, to keep the blood circulating. At all times they did their best to keep the weapons they had taken from the depot under their coats to protect them from the cold. Without speaking about it, they knew there might come a time when they needed to shoot somebody.

  By eight it was as light as it was going to get beneath a cloudy sky that seemed to have plenty more snow left in it. John had just done a shift. Now it was up to George to watch out for movement down below.

  Nothing happened.

  John took over again a half hour later, and then George from him once more. Neither of them had seen anything alive and moving by ten.

  While he was doing some more exercises, John said, ‘How are you doing, old timer?’

  George chuckled through chapped lips. ‘Just wishing I was back on that moor above your house, young fella. It was warmer there.’

  ‘Too true. We nearly drowned, but at least we were warm – most of the time.’

  John was tired of stretching hands and arms, feet and knees. Tired of deep breathing through the sleeve of his coat. Wondering if they were making a big mistake, sitting up here, he wished more strongly than ever that they had just blown the cave and quit.

  ‘Don’t say it!’ George cautioned.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know – and I know. Just keep it under your breath. We’re not blowing the cave yet. We’ve got to give it more time.’

  But how much longer? They were going to die, sitting up here.

  ‘Let me look at your face, George. It’s my turn coming up, but I want to see how you’re doing before I take over from you.’

  ‘I’m doing OK. Nothing about this that I can’t handle.’

  ‘No, of course there isn’t. Let me look at your damned face!’

  George acquiesced. John looked. There were no bad signs yet. No white patches or blue lips. No black areas under the skin foretelling of gangrene, thank God!

  ‘Now your hands.’

  He tested George’s fingers for stiffness.

  ‘We’re going to have to watch it. You’ve not got as much movement as you should have. Probably the same for me, as well.’

  ‘It’s just the damn gloves.’

  ‘Maybe. What about your feet? How are they?’

  ‘I can still feel ’em, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘That’s a good sign!’ John chuckled. ‘They haven’t dropped off yet. But we really will have to watch it. We’re not generating any heat at all, sitting here like this.’

  ‘It’s nothing I’ve not done plenty of before.’

  ‘No, of course it isn’t, you being such a terrific hunter and sniper, and general outdoors man, and all.’

  ‘I wish I’d never told you now,’ George said, managing to raise a chuckle.

  ‘Tell you what, though. By late afternoon we should quit. We can’t survive a night out here.’

  Maybe not even the rest of the day, he thought to himself. And I’m in no better shape than he is. My feet are aching with the cold, and there’s damn all I can do about it, apart from getting on them and starting to walk.

  ‘Let’s just see how it goes,’ George suggested.

  ‘Yeah.’

  The day slowed down. The half hours spent with their heads far enough up to see down into the valley grew longer, interminably so. And nothing happened. Nothing at all. Still. Once, John thought he saw a bird flying by, but when he focused his eyes better there was nothing there. Nothing at all. Just white, everywhere.

  Nothing happened, again and again. They continued swapping places. From time to time, they chewed salami and bread, and sipped coffee from the big flask they had brought with them. The cold induced fatigue, a bone-chilling weariness that glazed the mind and stilled restless limbs agitating to try to create heat.

  It seemed as if nothing would happen, ever.

  But just after three in the afternoon they came.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  John saw them first. Three pickup trucks appeared down by the frozen river far below. They were the first vehicles they had seen all day. The trucks stopped briefly, as if for consultation, and then began to wind their way up the rough forestry track below the cave.

  ‘They’re here!’ he said tersely. ‘Somebody is.’

  He reached for the field glasses under his coat. George came up out of the snow hole alongside him. John handed him the glasses after taking a quick look himself.

  ‘A reconnaissance party,’ George said gruffly.

  ‘Yeah.’

  By the time the pickups had parked close to the cave, a convoy of much bigger trucks had arrived on the riverside road.

  ‘Looks like they mean business,’ George said.

  John nodded. He was waiting to see who the new arrivals were, but already it looked as though the trap had worked.

  ‘Ted got the word out to these guys pretty fast,’ George remarked. ‘They haven’t wasted any time either.’

  Several men got out of the pickups to confer. George focused the glasses and swore.

  ‘What?’ John demanded.

  ‘Yugov. Now we know everything,’ he added bitterly. ‘Fucking Ted!’

  He handed the glasses over. John studied the group of figures and confirmed the identity of Yugov. He gave the glasses back and sank down into the snow hole.

  ‘You’ve got your answer, George. It was a leak, and now we know who’s been doing it,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Let’s blow the cave.’

  George shook his head and stayed where he was, watching still.

  John hugged himself, trying to get more warmth into his frozen body. He had no idea how the older man was feeling but he was fucking frozen himself. To hell with this shit! He’d had enough.

  ‘Come on George, for chrissake! Let’s blow the fucking thing, and get the hell out of here.’

  ‘Another vehicle has arrived,’ George said, ignoring him. ‘Another truck with a double cab. It’s come right up to join the others. Holy shit!’

  ‘What now?’ John sprang back up.

  ‘It’s Ted Pearson!’

  ‘You’re kidding? Here, give me the glasses.’

  George handed them over and leant back, putting his palms over his eyes to try to w
arm them. John focused and saw a tall, very upright older guy talking to Yugov.

  ‘The big bloke?’

  ‘Yeah. That’s Ted. What the hell is he doing here?’

  ‘They’re old pals, it looks like. Shaking hands and kissing each other. It makes me feel sick.’

  ‘That’s Ted. Always was a great party mingler.’

  ‘How the hell has he got here so fast?’ John demanded, turning to look at the other man.

  ‘There’s only one explanation I can think of – he was here all along.’

  George sank back into the snow hole and fumbled under his clothing.

  John stayed where he was, watching the scene play out down below. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Calling him,’ George said tersely.

  ‘What the hell for?’

  ‘We’ve got to be sure. I’ll put it on loud speaker, so you can hear it.’

  John shook his head. He was close to despair. He had no idea where they were going with this now.

  George was near despair, too, but for a different reason. He was wondering to what extent he’d been suckered all along.

  ‘He’s getting his phone out!’ John snapped, watching as Ted Pearson moved aside from the group.

  George just nodded. He was concentrating on how to handle this.

  ‘That you, George?’

  ‘Hi, Ted! How are you doing?’

  ‘The same as last time we spoke. What can I do for you, George?’

  ‘I’ve got some news for you. That depot in Ukraine? I’ve been talking to Tait’s wife about it again.’

  ‘Yeah? Ask her about the key. Where is it? She seems to be the only one who knows, since Sirko and his crew got themselves killed.’

  ‘It’s open already, she says. She wasn’t going to be the only person who knew about it. So she had it opened up.’

  ‘Oh? That’s good news. I’m actually intending to visit Ukraine myself. I’ll take some guys with me to look it over.’

  ‘Ted, Vlasta Sirko says not to go in there. She says the depot’s full of toxic stuff – chemical weapons, and a whole lot of other things that are not very nice.’

  ‘The Ukrainians need those weapons, George. If they’re going to have a chance of stopping the Russians, they have to have them. There’s nothing coming to them from the US, or anywhere else in the West.’