Scorpion's Vengeance

by Lawrence Hebb

  Normally that’s where GCHQ in Britain would come in, or the NSA in the United States, their computers can sort through the information they need to within seconds, and they do it on a regular basis looking for terrorists.

  Sandy had a list of phone numbers, some of whom she knew who they were, others she didn’t, they took priority.

  It took a few minutes, but things started to come together. Serkhov’s number was the one called the most, there were a few calls from Sasha, all to be expected, but then came the ones not on their lists.

  “Burners?” Joey pointed at the list she’d made, the ones they couldn't identify.

  “Maybe” she replied, “I should still be able to get a location though, getting the record of the conversation might take a while, and tip our ‘friend’ off, but we can if we need to”

  “If there's a chance of tipping that swine off” Joey almost spat the words out, “then don’t go there”

  “No intention of” Sandy replied defensively frustrated that it seemed Joey thought she would, “I just meant it's there as an option if we need it”

  “Duly noted” Joey was seemingly oblivious to her frustration, she was about to say something when a light started flashing in the screen, it was an alarm wired to the house security system.

  “Someone just opened the front gate” she said as she tapped the keyboard, the screen came alive with the view from one of the outside cameras, Joey reached for the Browning in his shoulder holster, checking that the safety was on, he cocked the weapon and went towards the front door, he propped himself up, back against the wall, both hands gripping the gun.

  “It’s okay” Sandy didn't shout, but was loud enough for Joey to hear in the lobby, “It's Jacko and Mac” he relaxed slightly, but not much, they still didn't want to give anything away, especially not how many they were at the house, he waited for one of them to open the door.

  It was Jacko came through the door first, he didn’t even glance in Joey’s direction. He went straight in, Mac was right behind him, he took one last look down the street, then closed the door. Making sure the door was closed he turned to Joey, “Ya can stand down now”

  “What have we got?” Jacko fired the question off in Sandy’s general direction. He headed for the kitchen knowing that like all good soldiers Joey would have a kettle boiling, he wasn’t disappointed.

  The kettle was just over half full, and still hot from the drinks Joey had made, he reached into the cupboard above the bench the kettle was on, took out two cups, plopped two teabags from the jar next to the kettle into them, two sugars in each cup, a splash of milk, then add the water and they had ‘NATO standard’ as soldiers liked to call a steaming cup of hot sweet tea.

  “How's your Russian?” Sandy asked with a smile on her face, she knew full well none of them spoke it. She swivelled the computer screen so that they could see what was there, “I'm into Gromatski’s texts, this one was from a number I've traced to Serkov, and before you ask” she saw he was about to ask something, she would lay money on knowing the question, “it's got Cyrillic script, from a Russian, doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out its in Russian, that and I used Google translate!”

  They all chuckled, “you DID ask!” Sandy was laughing, “It just seemed the obvious thing to try, not perfect, but good enough”

  “What's that?” Jacko pointed to a piece of text on the screen, it looked strange, it had numbers in the midst, “looks like an”

  “An address” Sandy replied, “and if he wasn’t on his way to some unpleasant place, it would sign his death warrant, it's the address we picked the hacker up from.”

  “And you say,” Mac asked, “this text came from Serkov?”

  “Along with the time we said we'd be picking him up, ” she replied, “they were expecting a soft target, you should see the texts after, he may work for Serkov, but he ‘lets fly’ with his opinion” she turned back to the screen, “by the way, heard from Smithy at the O.P?”

  An ‘O.P.’ is a military term for an observation post, a concealed hiding place snipers use to watch the enemy and report back what's going on. Smithy had insisted they needed to set one up across from Serkov's nightclub, “sound tactical move” he'd said, no one had argued. “He took the nifty fifty that Joey commandeered from the idiot lookout” Mac went on, “Just in case something happens”

  Right at that moment, their phones buzzed, a message was coming in, it was from Smithy, it simply said, “Serkov on the move, am following” Jacko looked up at Mac, “Time to roll,” he turned to Sandy and carried on, “send us what we need, the rest, you know what to do with.”

  Chapter 33

  The club was just a front for Serkhov's real business, but it was a profitable ‘front’ with the rich and famous enjoying the place, it was one of ‘THE’ places to be seen.

  Chelsea might be the most expensive part of town, and where the billionaires live, but they all had to get their groceries and the like from somewhere, and none of them liked to send their ‘minions’ far to get them, so right next door was Coleridge Gardens, Serkhov’s ‘club’ was there, where it wouldn’t attract too much unwanted attention, but he could still charge the exorbitant ‘Chelsea’ prices.

  Smithy had been watching the place since the early morning, not that anyone would have noticed. First, there were the delivery people, they came and went from 4 am onwards, all he needed to ‘blend in was a hi-vis vest, no one noticed the extra body unloading the trucks, and not once did his eyes leave the club entrance

  They stopped at about 7 am, but the local cafe was open, and he was hungry, the hi-vis discarded (returned to the rightful owner who never noticed it gone) and breakfast ordered.

  Normally, on a ‘stake out’ the person watching would find a place ‘out of the way’ where they could see what was going in, but not be seen, that wasn't possible, there wasn't anywhere to hide, except that is in plain sight, so that's what he did.

  Traffic started to get busy, delivery vans, couriers, taxis and buses, but nothing that stayed more than a few minutes, yet he blended in.

  The sun had passed the midway point in the sky when the door to Surkov's club flew open, a red Ferrari was parked out the front, it couldn't have been more obvious even if his name was written all over it, that's why Smithy had fitted a tracker as soon as he saw the car, all he had to do was activate it remotely.

  Taking his phone out he tapped in a number, a slight beep told him the tracker was active, next he pressed the ‘group message’ to let them know.

  Serkov was in a rush, his training forgotten, he jumped into the car, revved the engine and took off, tyres squealing as he accelerated away, it would have looked good on a racetrack, but in urban London, he may as well have had a big red flashing light on the top.

  “He's on the move” he spoke into the phone, the programme transcribed it into text and sent the message, meanwhile he casually walked to where the moped was parked, not totally hidden, but out of the way enough to not be seen. He put his earpiece in and donned the helmet.

  Flicking the bike off its stand he turned the key and begun to pull away. The moped had a holder for another tablet, an iPad fitted just below the speedometer, he took the iPad out of the bag he was carrying and clipped it into place, pressing the on switch the device came to life, already set to the tracking programme they were using the device showed a map of the area, a bright red dot indicated where the ‘target’ was, Serkov was a hundred yards ahead and off to the left.

  “Smithy” Jacko's voice came over the phone, the screen stayed on the map, “where are we heading?” They were already mobile.

  “Not sure yet boss” he replied, “he's only just left the club, heading south, possibly over the river, that's all I can tell ya”

  “Okay” the reply came back, “we'll head towards the Vauxhall bridge and see where we are from there.”

  “Roger that boss, will keep you posted” he concentrated on riding the scooter.

  ‘Bloody typical’ he t
hought to himself, ‘Joey and Sandy do this and they got a flamin’ Commando and a Bonneville, all I effing well get is a bloody Vespa!’ he chuckled to himself as he headed in the same direction as the Ferrari was showing to have gone.

  “Smithy, Jacko, Mac Stand down, STAND DOWN” Sandy virtually shouted into their headsets, she sounded animated, almost frantic.

  “Whoa, what? What are you on about Sandy?” Jacko cut in, “We’re nearly at the bridge”

  “Stand down” she shouted again, “It’s a ruse, a fake! He’s not in the bloody car!” she sounded confident, but at the same time frantic for them to stop, “he’s leading you on a wild goose chase with it”

  “But he’s in the car” Smithy had pulled over to the side of the road, “I saw him going for”

  “Did you actually see him climb into the car and take off?” Sandy shot back.

  “I saw him climb in” Smithy shot back, he was watching the screen with the red dot showing the car was getting further and further away, another couple of minutes and it would be out of range.

  “But did you see him drive off in it?”

  “Of course I flamin’ well saw the car pull away” Smithy was getting angry.

  “But did you see him in the car as it drove away?”

  “I was getting the bloody bike” he shot back, “How could I, but he did, the sodding thing pulled away”

  “Yeah it did” Sandy replied over the phone, “but he wasn’t in it, he was stood on the pavement, I just pinged his phone to confirm we had him, it’s not in the bloody car, it was walking towards the tube!”

  The ‘Tube’ is the nickname that Londoners affectionately call the London underground, thirteen underground lines that connect every part of the vast city, at least there are thirteen that the public can use, there are others, ones that the public isn’t told about.

  There isn’t a part of the city that doesn’t have a ‘tube station’ within a couple of hundred yards of wherever you live.

  “He just went into the station at Earls Court” Sandy went on, “looks like he's heading for the district or circle line, I'm sending Joey to try and intercept the eastbound, probably at the Embankment” she shooed Joey towards the door, he got the message and set off out the door at a sprint.

  High street Kensington (the nearest tube station of the circle line to Earls Court) and Embankment are only two or three stops apart, but nearly a million people use that part of the line every day, not just that but both stations have other lines that intersect, it'll be like the proverbial needle in the haystack, the only advantage they had was that Sandy could ‘ping’ Surkov's phone even if it was turned off, they could use the technology against him.

  The tube station was three hundred yards, Joey covered it in less than a minute, he already had a season pass for the tube, he scanned the pass and sprinted for the platform, people moved to one side as he ran, they just thought he was late for work or a business meeting.

  “Which way am I going?” Joey didn't even sound out of breath.

  “He's on the train about to arrive in the station” Sandy began to reply.

  “Which bloody way?” Joey demanded.

  “Eastbound if you'd let me finish” Sandy shot back.

  “Thank you” Joey replied, “and sorry”

  “Should think so” she couldn't resist the dig, “get a visual confirmation, then back off, since we know we're right we'll track this bit with the GPS”

  The Circle line first started operating when Victoria was Queen of England. First, as a line from Paddington to Kings Cross, they soon ‘looped’ it around the old city of London in the 1870s. It connects all the major tourist places including the famous Tower Bridge and the houses of parliament, a great place to get anywhere in the city, and perfect for losing any ‘tail’, that's what Serkov was counting on.

  “He's heading Eastbound” Joey spoke into his mike, he had a Bluetooth device in his ear, he looked just like any other commuter, “heading towards Tower Bridge, the third carriage from the front, I'm in the one behind”

  “Got that, stay there in case he moves” Sandy instructed Joey as the doors began to close, “we might lose comms in the tunnels, but should be good with the GPS”

  The train was about half full, most of the seats were taken, but no one was standing, everyone was doing their ‘own thing’, that made Joey's life easier.

  Serkov was about two-thirds of the way towards the back of the carriage, sat on the left-hand side facing the opposite side, the seat to his left was vacant, a blonde woman was already sat on the right, she seemed not to pay any attention to the man sat next to her, but something, a niggling feeling told Joey to pay attention to her.

  Joey took his phone out, he made as if checking emails and the like, no one bothered him despite the fact that email wasn't going to work inside the tunnels, besides he only made it look that way, he was after the camera.

  He got half a dozen photos of the two, they seemed not to know each other, but looks can be deceiving, he kept watching as he put the camera away.

  In London there's an underground station every three or four hundred yards, the trains travelling the routes take just over a minute to reach the station from the previous one, people getting on and off at each one, a couple of times Joey momentarily lost sight as people crossed his line of vision, but a second or so later he confirmed Serkov was still there, the woman seemed not to even be aware of her neighbour, Joey was beginning to relax.

  The train was just slowing for the next stop on the line, pulling into Westminster, literally right underneath some of the most important buildings in Britain.

  The blonde got up and headed for the exit, Serkov was still sitting there, Joey couldn't help noticing he had a smile on his face.

  ‘Like to wipe that sod off,’ Joey thought about Serkov's smile, ‘oh for the chance, still, it'll come’ he thought to himself.

  “Joey, where the hell are you?” Sandy screamed into his earpiece, he's moving!” She yelled excitedly into the device.

  “No, he's not!” Joey was emphatic.

  “He IS” she came back, “the GPS picked up movement”

  “And the MK1 eyeball says he isn't, I'm bloody watching him, he must have slipped the phone into the blonde's bag” he replied.

  “What bloody blonde?” She didn't give home time to explain.

  “The one he sat next to” Joey replied, “and before you ask” he cut her off, “they didn't seem to know each other, that’s why I didn’t say anything, but sending you the pics as soon as you stop shouting in my ear!” he took the phone out, flicked the camera function on, selected the photos he needed and clicked send, as soon as the email address came up he typed in the one Sandy was using, as soon as he’d finished he spoke again, “They’re on their way, I’ll stay with Serkov”

  The next few minutes were filled with a tense silence, he wasn’t sure if Sandy was annoyed with him, or simply that she was busy, not that it mattered all that much, he’d probably have to apologise for the way he spoke, but she’d also understand it was in the heat of the moment, and besides, he’d been right not to trust the technology totally, not that it would go down that well.

  Half an hour later they were still on the circle line and Joey was thinking they’d missed something, they were approaching a famous London address.

  “We’re at the Baker Street station” Joey spoke up, “with any luck a friend from number 221B might get on the tube and take over”

  “You do know the stories are fictional don’t you?” Sandy replied totally missing the joke, “and it’s the Abbey National Bank address!”

  “Yeah, he’d have this case solved in ten minutes while making the cops look like total idiots!” Joey replied, he caught movement, Serkov was getting out of his seat, “we might have movement” he watched closely.

  “Jacko, Mac, where are you now?” Sandy called for the sitrep, “Be good if one of you can take over from Joey”

  “Just arrived at the station” Mac
came over the radio, “Jacko’s still in the car, Joey what platform?”

  “Westbound” Joey replied, “where are you?”

  “Just at the turnstiles, stay on the train and search the seat”

  “Roger that” Joey said but thought ‘shit’ as he dived back into the train, just in time before the doors closed, he launched himself for the seat just as an elderly Jamaican lady was about to sit, she gave him a disgusted look, he pretended to he lost something as he searched the seat, he was checking for a ‘dead drop’

  The ‘dead drop’ is something you often see in the movies, and it’s an old trick the spies used to use, but it’s far more elaborate than the movies make out, in a nutshell it’s a way for spies and their ‘handlers’ to pass messages along without being seen together.

  The way it worked was when one of them had a message they would notify the other, either through an ad in the local papers or as is today a facebook and where the recipient is certain to see it.

  A seemingly innocent phrase like ‘Blackberry picking at the farm at 2 pm’ could have a double meaning, the average joker might wonder why a London newspaper with no farms would advertise such a thing, but then might think it’s for those living in the suburbs, but the intended recipient would know exactly what it was talking about. But once the message was delivered to the intended location the sender would also put another signal out, this time in a place where the recipient would see it, usually on the way to the ‘drop’ indicating that the message was there and with a means for the person to know that the message hadn’t been tampered with, usually a mark of some kind, Joey wasn’t sure what he’d be looking for, just that it would seem odd to be there, he found nothing, “Nothing here” he whispered into the mike as he stood and pointed for the lady to take his seat.