Short Range (The Spider Shepherd Thrillers Book 16)

by Stephen Leather

  ‘Except that we were supposed to be wrapping this up,’ said Bacon. ‘The longer it goes on, the more chance there is of something going wrong.’

  ‘A week isn’t long, Julie,’ said Sharpe.

  ‘If it goes tits-up, it’s long enough,’ said Bacon. She looked at Shepherd. ‘What do you think?’ she asked.

  ‘You know I’ve been against this from day one,’ said Shepherd. ‘Kids have no place in undercover work. But as I said, I’ve been overruled. All we can do is keep Harry out of harm’s way.’ He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to reply. ‘I know, I know, we’re putting him in harm’s way. But we can keep a close eye on him. And we’ll have Kriezis and his gang under surveillance. If we even think they want to hurt Harry we can pull him out.’

  Bacon didn’t look convinced but she nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said.

  Shepherd’s phone buzzed to let him know he’d received a text message. He scowled when he read it.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Sharpe.

  ‘I’ve been summoned,’ said Shepherd. ‘His master’s voice.’

  Giles Pritchard kept Shepherd waiting for twenty minutes before he was admitted into the inner sanctum. The director waved Shepherd to a seat and as usual got straight to the point. ‘I’m told you’ve been using MI5 resources on an MPS investigation,’ he said, pushing his glasses up his nose with one forefinger.

  Shepherd shrugged. ‘We were running surveillance on Harry Dexter, and he’s an MI5 asset.’

  ‘He was going to meet his drug dealer, not his uncle, correct?’

  Shepherd nodded. ‘It’s complicated. The Met investigation into the county lines is ongoing.’

  ‘And not within our brief,’ said Pritchard.

  ‘I need to make sure that Harry isn’t in any danger because if anything happens to him it would jeopardise our operation.’ Shepherd didn’t like the way Pritchard was second-guessing him but there was no way he could express his annoyance without appearing to be combative. He forced himself to smile and resisted the urge to fold his arms. ‘He received a text message that he thought was from Jason Morris but we knew that Morris was dead. Something was clearly not right so I organised a team to keep an eye on him. It turned out it was an Albanian gangster who is moving in on the county lines. The Met have put a task force together to target him.’

  Pritchard nodded. ‘Frenk Kriezis?’

  ‘That’s right. He’s started his own crime wave, targeting existing county lines and basically making them offers they can’t refuse. Effectively Harry Dexter is now working for Kriezis.’

  ‘And you followed Kriezis from London to Reading?’

  ‘Strictly speaking I was following Harry. Our asset.’

  ‘Who was in a vehicle with Kriezis and his heavies?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Shepherd. He could see where Pritchard was going but there was no way of speeding up the process. He just had to wait for the director to get to the point.

  ‘And you had two Metropolitan Police SFOs with you?’

  ‘They were attached to our operation and were in the surveillance van so it made sense for them to come along.’

  ‘Even though you knew you would be crossing into the Thames Valley policing area?’

  ‘We weren’t expecting them to have to use their weapons,’ said Shepherd.

  Pritchard smiled thinly. ‘Which begs the question, why did you take them with you?’

  ‘We were moving quickly. It caught us by surprise when Kriezis said he was going to take Harry to Reading. The SFOs were already in the van.’ Shepherd shrugged.

  ‘You arranged ARV cover in Thames Valley?’

  Shepherd nodded. ‘Through the SIO, Chief Inspector McKee.’

  ‘And Chief Inspector McKee also arranged for surveillance in Reading?’

  It was phrased as a question but Shepherd knew that his boss already had the answer. That was the key to a successful interrogation – never ask a question that you don’t already know the answer to. ‘It was actually the NCA surveillance expert, Jimmy Sharpe. He put a team together at short notice.’

  ‘So at that point NCA had surveillance in place and Thames Valley had arranged armed support?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Which again begs the question, why didn’t you leave it up to them?’

  ‘I was protecting our asset. As I said.’

  ‘Well, you weren’t actually protecting him as the SFOs you had with you weren’t authorised to fire their weapons. Or were you prepared to charge in and take care of them bare-handed? I gather you do have a tendency to rush in at times.’

  ‘We were there for surveillance purposes,’ said Shepherd. ‘Thames Valley were responsible for the armed support.’

  Pritchard sat back in his high-backed chair and steepled his fingers under his chin as he looked at Shepherd over the top of his spectacles for several seconds. ‘Here’s what concerns me, Daniel. Best possible scenario is what happened. Kriezis and his men went into the house, talked to whoever was inside and went back to London. Harry Dexter returned to his home. All’s well that ends well.’ He placed his hands palms down on his desk.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Shepherd, though he was all too aware that there was more to come.

  ‘But the worst possible scenario, had you considered that? Suppose Kriezis had gone in there with his men and started shooting. Suppose that young Harry had been killed? Where would that have left us? The papers would have had a field day. “Schoolboy killed in botched MI5 operation”. We would have had a lot of questions to answer, and frankly I wouldn’t have had the answers. We would have been involved in any criminal cases or court actions that had arisen as a result, and if your SFOs had gone in it would have been even worse. I shudder to think how that would have ended. We are facing calls from all sides for us to become more accountable and if your operation had gone wrong we would have handed our enemies a loaded gun.’ He picked up a gold pen and began to toy with it. Displacement behaviour. He fell silent but Shepherd resisted the urge to say something to fill in the gap. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done which meant he was in no mood to apologise. But neither did he want to get into an argument with his boss because it wasn’t an argument he could win.

  ‘I understand your background, Daniel. Paratrooper, SAS, undercover cop. And I understand that the SAS encourages its people to think on their feet. But you’re not special forces any more. You are a cog in a very large machine and for that machine to function smoothly each of us cogs has to do its job. You were lucky this time. But it must not happen again.’ He looked over the top of his glasses. ‘Understood?’

  ‘Absolutely, yes,’ said Shepherd. ‘Understood.’

  Pritchard forced a smile. ‘Good man,’ he said. He sat back in his chair and looked at his computer screen, his way of letting Shepherd know that the meeting was at an end.

  ‘There was something I wanted to raise with you,’ said Shepherd.

  Pritchard frowned as he looked back at Shepherd, clearly not happy that he hadn’t taken the hint and left.

  ‘Have you had a chance to look at the transcript from Harry’s phone this Sunday?’

  ‘I have, yes,’ said Pritchard.

  ‘In particular where Gary Dexter talks about travelling to Serbia to fire some ordnance. Namely RPGs.’

  Pritchard nodded. ‘This coming weekend, he said. It’s interesting but it’s not against the law. Unless he tries to bring an RPG back with him but I doubt they’ll let him on the plane if that’s the case.’ He flashed Shepherd a sarcastic smile to show that he was joking.

  ‘I thought it might be an opportunity to get close to Dexter. The trip is open to the public and they still have slots available.’

  ‘This is a surveillance operation, not an undercover op.’

  ‘Agreed. But this is too good an opportunity to pass up. Gary Dexter says he’s going with five mates. According to the company’s website they take up to a dozen people at a time and they are showing vacancies. I just turn up
and I’ll be put in the group with them. I could use a legend I’ve used before: John Whitehill, freelance journalist. It’s the perfect cover.’

  ‘You’ll spook him.’

  ‘Give me some credit. I’ll throw in a few Islamophobic comments and he’ll see me as a kindred spirit. I’ve done it before.’

  ‘I’m not disputing your professionalism,’ said Pritchard. ‘It’s just going undercover overseas is a risk.’

  ‘A risk that I’m prepared to take,’ said Shepherd. ‘You read the transcript. Other than the trip, Gary didn’t give anything away. I don’t think his brother is in the least bit interested in the Crusaders and I don’t think he knows what Gary is planning.’

  Pritchard hesitated, then nodded. ‘Agreed.’

  ‘So what I’m saying is that we could spend the next year bugging their Sunday lunches and I doubt we’ll get anything we can use against Gary Dexter. But put me next to him shooting heavy artillery and there’s a chance he’ll open up.’

  ‘He’s careful.’

  ‘Sure, on his own territory, of course he is. But out there in Serbia and me having a rock solid legend is a whole different story. I just think it’s worth a try. What’s the worst that can happen?’

  ‘The worst is that he’ll spot you for what you are and realise that he’s being watched.’

  ‘From all the anti-surveillance techniques he uses, it’s clear that he knows that anyway. But he won’t spot me. Trust me.’

  ‘It’s not about whether or not I trust you. Your record speaks for itself.’ He had his gold pen in his hand again and he was spinning it around his thumb. ‘It’s whether the reward is worth the risk.’

  ‘Limited risk. If it looks like he’s reluctant in any way I’ll just pull back and play the tourist. But if he’s receptive, I’ll take it as far as I can.’

  ‘He’ll have access to all sorts of guns, and Serbia is still the Wild West. You won’t have any back up.’

  ‘I don’t see that I’ll need it. It isn’t as if I’m engineering a meeting in a seedy nightclub, this is a group of guys on a shooting trip. If it makes you happier I can take back up.’

  Pritchard’s smile was colder this time. ‘It’s not about me being happier,’ he said. ‘My happiness is immaterial. I think back up would make you more likely to come a cropper. Anyone not local will stick out.’

  ‘They could come on the trip with me.’

  ‘Then we’d need two cover stories. If anything we’d be doubling the risk of exposure.’ The pen slipped off his thumb and spun across the desk. He reached for it, then put it down and steepled his fingers under his chin again. ‘Okay, you can do it. But softly, softly. If you sense any hostility on his part, you drop it. Immediately.’

  ‘I will do,’ said Shepherd. The director had already turned his attention back to his computer and this time Shepherd took the hint and left.

  He took the stairs down to the second floor and walked along to the office where the legends were maintained. There was no sign on the door, just a number. Shepherd went in and was greeted with a warm smile by the lady in the outer office. Susan Murray had been with MI5 since before Shepherd joined. She had a memory that was almost as faultless as his, a prerequisite for a job that called for maintaining identities that had to stand up to intense scrutiny. Murray had been a librarian at the British Library for almost twenty years before she had been recruited by MI5. Her job was to oversee the footies and the shoppers, groups of men and women who spent their days maintaining the legends used by officers working undercover.

  In the old days, pre-internet, a driving licence, passport and a credit card were all that an officer needed to venture forth with a new identity. But the internet – and in particular social media – had made life much more complicated. Facebook and Twitter accounts had become the norm, and Google meant that anyone could go looking for a person. And if Google drew a blank, suspicions could be raised.

  The job of a footie was to maintain the footprints of all the legends that hadn’t yet been retired. Footies maintained Facebook accounts, tweeted, used Oyster cards and railcards, kept flats and houses maintained, and paid utility bills. They made calls on mobile phones in the legend’s name and sent and received emails. Shoppers bought things online, used loyalty cards in supermarkets, paid for meals in restaurants with credit cards and bought and used rail and airline tickets. If the legend came with a car they would drive the vehicle, sometimes running up parking tickets and speeding tickets. Many new recruits to the service would spend their first six months working as a footie or a shopper, though there were others for whom it was a long-term career.

  ‘Dan, good to see you,’ said Murray, taking off her spectacles and allowing them to hang from a slim gold chain. ‘Off somewhere nice?’

  ‘Serbia,’ he said.

  ‘So that’s a no, then,’ she said.

  ‘I’d like the John Whitehill legend, if it’s ready to go.’

  She tapped on her computer keyboard and nodded. ‘Yes, it’s up to date. What do you need?’

  ‘The full Monty,’ said Shepherd. ‘Passport, credit cards, driving licence and a phone. I’m not sure that I’ll need to use the Hampstead flat but I’ll need it on standby.’

  ‘Vehicle?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at the moment,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ll let you know if that changes.’

  Murray tapped on her keyboard again, then stood up. ‘Give me a couple of minutes,’ she said, and went through a door into what Shepherd knew was a large storeroom lined with filing cabinets. When she returned she was holding two large envelopes and an iPhone.

  ‘The phone is good to go,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘There are messages on it regarding writing assignments and the like. But feel free to pop the sim card into any phone you want. It’s an iPhone 6, and it uses your thumbprint and the Whitehill date of birth as the fall-back password.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Shepherd, slipping it into his pocket.

  She passed him the two envelopes. ‘All the ID you need, plus a Mastercard, an Amex card and a First Direct debit card. There’s just under two thousand pounds in the account but let me know if you need more. The pin numbers again are the Whitehill date of birth. And just to let you know, if you don’t already, accounts are getting very busy about receipts. Pretty much anything over fifty pounds needs a physical receipt these days.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Shepherd. ‘Though if I end up buying an RPG I doubt I’ll be able to get a receipt.’

  ‘In that case you’ll need special authorisation from Mr Pritchard,’ said Murray.

  Shepherd decided not to tell her that he was only joking. He opened the envelope containing the credit cards and ID and checked them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Murray or her department, but if there was anything amiss it was better to discover it inside Thames House than out in the field when a mistake might well be a matter of life or death.

  ‘Everything okay?’ asked Murray as Shepherd flicked through the passport.

  ‘All good, Susan, thanks.’

  ‘The other envelope contains articles and blog posts that were placed since you last checked the legend,’ she said. ‘You had a wonderful stay in the Maldives earlier this year.’

  Shepherd laughed. ‘Lucky me,’ he said.

  She handed him a door key. ‘The flat is ready so you might as well take the key now. The burglar alarm code is your date of birth, not Whitehill’s.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘Of course you do,’ she said. Murray handed him a clipboard with a requisition form attached which he signed and dated.

  He thanked her and headed out. Shepherd didn’t have an office or even a desk of his own at Thames House, but there was a hot-desk room on the second floor with a dozen workstations. There were only two other people in the room, sitting well away from each other. Shepherd sat down at a terminal midway between the two of them and logged in.

  The Gunfire Tours website was still showing vacancies for the f
orthcoming weekend trip. Shepherd opened an account in the name of John Whitehill and entered the Hampstead address and phone number, then he booked a place on the trip using the Mastercard. His payment was accepted and shortly afterwards he received a confirmatory email. The email explained that the booking was for the trip in Serbia and that he would have to arrange his own flight. He could either make his own way to the hotel or he could be picked up at the airport.

  He used the MI5 system to access flight records and searched for Gary Dexter. He had a booking on a Friday evening Air Serbia flight that would arrive in Belgrade at 5 p.m. He went to the Air Serbia website and booked himself onto the same flight, paying for it with his Whitehill Amex card. He received a confirmation email within seconds

  He sat back and smiled to himself. He was good to go. His phone buzzed and he checked the screen. It was Katra. He answered, cupping his hand over his mouth. ‘Hi, sorry I haven’t called for a while, I’ve been really busy,’ he said.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘You’re always busy these days.’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry. They’ve had me on several cases at the same time. I’ve literally not stopped.’

  ‘But you’re coming back this weekend, right?’

  ‘I’m sorry, something’s come up.’

  She sighed. ‘Dan, you promised.’

  ‘I didn’t promise. I know I did say I’d be home but I can’t ever promise something like that. That’s not how the job works.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Europe,’ he said. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, even family members, where he was when he was on official business. ‘I’m leaving Friday and I’ll be back Sunday evening.’

  ‘So that’s the weekend gone. Again.’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry. But this is important.’

  ‘It’s always important.’ She sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Dan, I don’t want to sound like a nag but Liam is coming this weekend, remember? He’ll be disappointed.’

  ‘He’s in the Army now, Katra, he knows the way the world works.’

  ‘The job comes first? Yes, he knows. You were always away when he was growing up and now you’re both away all the time.’