“Wait! Wait!”
“What?”
Ian was struggling.
“Let me help you out here. Look up there,” Dom said, pointing to the ceiling three inches slightly to the right of the chain coupling.
Ian looked up to see a small pipe with an open end. He hadn’t noticed this before, and it blended in with the colour of the ceiling. He traced it along the ceiling to the wall where it dropped to a small tap and valve. Attached to it, in an inverted position, was a thick plastic bottle. It was similar to a bleach container, white with no markings. Dom turned on the tap and there was a slow hiss accompanied by the gurgling sound of liquid.
Dom took out a folding blade and grabbed Ian’s collar. He cut off a fair chunk of it and placed it on a barely visible mark on the floor.
“Watch this, Ian.”
They waited a short while in silence until a single drop appeared at the pipe’s opening. It clung to the edge, like a thick oil leaving its bottle. And then it dripped onto Ian’s collar with a burning hiss.
“Impressive, isn’t it? I learned this from the streets where gangs use acid as a weapon against one another.”
“And, what’s your point?”
“Ah, my point. Here’s my point.”
Dom dragged Ian from the chair and held him under the dripping pipe.
“Wait! Wait! What are you doing? You can’t!”
There was a faint sound and the burning smell of the liquid making contact with Ian’s clothing, just on the right side of his chest. Then it hit Ian. He cried out in pain, his body writhing as it pierced his skin. As he was dealing with this violent invasion, another drop penetrated his clothes through to his abdomen.
Dom grasped Ian by the shoulders and spun him around so that he was swirling outwards from the central point of suspension. Another drop penetrated his skin, just under the chin.
He screamed. “No! You can’t do that! No more, no more!”
As Ian’s body continued to whirl, Dom left the room. He’d deliberately not replaced Ian’s gag, as he wanted his neighbour, Lee, to hear the echoes of pain.
***
“Okay, Lee, where were we?”
Dom leant over and removed the gag. Lee spluttered, fighting for breath.
Lee spoke in a rasping voice. “Let me down.”
“What have you got for me?”
“I’ll tell you what you want if you let me go.”
Dom walked over and pressed the button to lower Lee, only this time he let him down all the way to the floor. Lee tried to get into a seated position but failed.
Lee sucked in the air and heard a shrill scream from his neighbour.
“I’m not the only one then?”
“No, Sir, you are not.”
“So, are we square? You get your names, and I walk?”
“That’s the agreement. You give me what I want, I’ll do some checking, and then you can go home in one piece and, more importantly, alive.” Dom looked him in the eye. “If you lead me up the garden path, I can assure you that our next brief encounter will not be so friendly.”
“Okay, okay, I get you. I just need time to collect my thoughts.”
“Time is something you do not have.”
Another well-timed scream came from his neighbour.
“Are you ready with the names, then?”
“Wait one minute.”
Dom dials Abi.
“Hi, I have some names for you to record. Wait.”
Dom nodded to Lee, indicating that he should begin.
“Give full names, aliases and locations.”
Lee threw a look at Dom.
“You said names only.”
“And now I want more.”
He thrust the phone towards Lee’s face.
Lee started. “Mitchell … Mitch they call him in Hastings. And Rafa in Croydon. Then there’s Brian Temple in Ladbroke Grove, and—”
“And?”
“And some guy who calls himself The Judge. I don’t who he is, or where he is. He contacted me on a secure private number. I don’t know where he got the number from.”
“How did the deal go down? And was he buying?”
“We negotiated a price, and the cash was delivered by some pizza delivery boy. I then released the codes for the goods to be picked up from the warehouse.”
“Okay, which pizza company and where’s the warehouse? You may as well give me the codes too.”
“The pizza boy is our usual delivery boy from Luigi’s around the corner. I think his name is Mark. The warehouse is an old arch on Edward Place in Deptford, number twenty-three.”
“And the entry code?”
“Punch in 160775. Once inside, it’s in reverse, 577061.”
“They haven’t changed, have they?”
“No, no, they haven’t changed, I swear.”
“That’s all of them? That does seem like big business to me. What did he buy?”
“Some C-4, Dets and half a dozen claymores.”
“How much is some C-4?”
“Twenty M118 charges plus sixty blasting cap holders. And that is all.”
“So, you don’t have any cameras in the pickup area, or someone close by watching and recording then?”
Lee averted his eyes.
“I thought so. Who has the footage, or better still, who was there?”
“I was there with my number two, Arnold. I waited on the road in the flats overlooking the site and Arnold hid in the undergrowth over the road. That bastard took Arnold out. He took him out professionally. One guy in black clothes and a ski mask punched in the numbers. He went inside. Then a dark blue van with no plates showed up with two guys. They were in black as well. They loaded up. And then the two guys drove off.”
“And the other man, where was he?”
“He walked calmly over to the fence, stared up directly at me and pointed at me as if he were going to shoot me. I found Arnold later after the guy had walked out of sight. He’s a bit of a nutter if you ask me.”
“Description?”
“I don’t know, white, six feet two. He moved kind of softly but quick. I don’t know how to describe it. He wore dark clothing and a balaclava and gloves, so there wasn’t much more to see.”
“Did he have an accent?”
“I never heard his voice. He used an electronic voice synthesiser on the only two calls that he made. For all I know, someone else could have called.”
“Do you record your calls?”
“Of course I do, why?”
Dom spoke into the phone. “Did you hear that?”
Abi’s faint voice responded.
“I have it now and checking,” she said. “Here we go, one call in November last year and one in February. I’m scanning them now.”
“And Rafa and Temple, what did they buy?” Dom asked.
“Rafa is normally into small stuff, but this time he wanted half a dozen claymores and four M72s. I could only get the M72s. He was well pissed off. Temple wanted twenty MP5Ks with a thousand rounds of ammo.”
“What the hell does he want twenty MP5Ks and all that ammo for? That’s some serious shit. Did they say what they wanted it for?”
“What do you think? Of course they didn’t tell me! And I didn’t ask either. Business is business. Now can I get my phone back when I get out of here?”
“You’ll get it back. Don’t worry.”
Dom held the phone to his ear, waiting for Abi to give the okay.
“All done. I retrieved that. I need access to the phone though. Don’t give it back to him just yet. Get the PIN code.”
“Understood. Lee, I need your PIN code.”
“Ah, what? Okay, it’s 9128.”
“Right, Lee, here’s how it works. You stay here until you get picked up, and someone will give you a nice ride home. Well, near home. You’ll have to remain trussed up, but you won’t be hanging anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. You get your information and get going. How long will I have to
wait?”
Dom checks the time on his phone.
“They should be with you within an hour or so.”
***
Ian was wriggling something awful and cursing under the gag. He was sweating profusely, and it had all congregated around his head. His hair was soaked.
“Ian, how are you doing? Have you made a choice yet?”
Ian stared at Dom, picking out his eyes from the balaclava.
“Are you not responding? Do you want some more time to think?”
Dom strode towards the door and heard a muffled response.
“Let’s save time here. I don’t want all the hassle of getting you down only for you to turn around and tell me to clear off. So, I’ll ask the questions, and you blink twice for yes and once for no. Okay?”
Ian blinked twice.
“Oh, you’ve got the hang of this. Right, are you now willing to cooperate?”
Ian blinked twice again, and this was immediately followed by the hissing sound, then the burning smell of another drop of acid falling onto him.
Ian let out a muffled response. “Aargh!”
Dom walked over to the tap and slowly turned it off.
“Let’s see if you’re good to your word. But first, let’s sort out some of these little burns, shall we?”
He reached into a flat panel on the wall and drew out a length of hose, directing it at Ian’s feet. Cold water splurged out, and Dom sprayed it all over Ian’s body.
After a couple of minutes, Dom switched off the hose and lowered Ian to the ground, removing the gag.
Ian shook his head, rotated his neck and stretched his body the best he could under the circumstances.
“Is that better, Ian? Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“What do you want?”
“Just as I said before, I want to know who you have sold military-grade explosives to in the last year. And, I want to know them all.”
“That stuff is so difficult to get hold of, you know that.”
“And the relevance of this is?”
“I spend all my time researching, wining and dining contacts, and you want me to expose them, just like that.”
“Yes, I do. I couldn’t have put it better myself. But I should let you know that you’re wasting my time and annoying me slightly, and that is not something you want to do.”
“Right, here are the names—”
“Wait a minute,” Dom cut in.
He called Abi again. “It’s me. I have more for you. Are you ready?”
“Ready this end, fire away.”
“Okay. Now.”
Ian hesitated. It was unbearable.
“I can’t, I can’t.”
“So, let me get this clear. You would prefer to rot here rather than pass a couple of names to a guy you don’t even know? How does that figure, Ian? I mean, I thought that you’d like to get home. Maybe I’m wrong.”
Dom pressed the button to raise Ian again.
His voice was urgent this time.
“Okay, Green … Arthur Green. Or should I say, Sir Arthur Green.”
“And what did he want?”
“He, err … bought three kilos of Semtex and a dozen dets. He arranged it and some other guy collected. I don’t know who he was. Green probably acted as the middleman and made a tidy sum. He usually does.”
“And?”
“And there was this weird guy. Wouldn’t meet me face to face, everything by message. He even had the funds delivered in cash by FedEx.”
“What was he buying?”
“Just two kilos of C-4 and some dets.”
Dom sensed that he was holding back.
“What else?”
“This was a creepy deal. I’m telling you, it wasn’t normal.”
“Okay, I get the message. Now, what else did he have?”
“He had two of those new Light Anti-Tank Weapons — I think they’re called NLAWs — four clays and two M72s.”
“How did he get the goods? Come to think of it, how the hell do you manage to get NLAWs? They’ve not long been released. Okay, don’t bother to tell me, just tell me how he got the goods.”
“They were left on a small boat in Poole Harbour.”
“Why Poole?”
“I don’t know. That was the deal.”
Dom kept the phone near Ian’s mouth.
“I haven’t got any more clients like you’ve asked for. I’ve got other clients, but none of them asked for explosives, only these two.”
Dom asked Abi, “Did you get all that?”
“Yes, loud and clear. I’ll need his mobile too.”
“No problem. I’ll get the PIN too. You can send in the relocation teams now.”
“Will do. I’ll task them now,” replied Abi as he hung up.
“Well, I guess that’s us all done, Ian. You’ll get taken home, and you’ll get your mobile back in a couple of days.”
“And the ties?”
They stay on until the help gets in. But at least you’re not hanging around anymore, are you?”
Dom left the room, removed his balaclava and checked that he’d collected both mobile phones and wallets. He put them in a pouch on the door handle of Ian’s cell with a note.
For A with love x
Chapter 9 – The Profile
Jago entered the office to find Abi and Bernie engrossed in their tasks. Bernie was working with an, as yet, unknown female. She was probably in her early thirties, with short auburn hair, a cream flowing blouse and black trousers. Jago didn’t disturb them.
He had chosen the disused red-brick school, commonly known as ‘The Ranch’ among the team, especially. Although it was ageing, it had been kitted out with state-of-the-art technology and contemporary furnishings. Jago’s choice was due to its unremarkable yet defendable location. All four sides of the building were continually monitored. A natural meandering curve in the River Thames flanked two sides of the north-facing property, providing a physical, protective barrier. Also, there was an underground quay where fully-prepared fast boats waited. There were three roads leading to and from the building, with each one monitored by CCTV. Capture drones and lasers could be deployed to prevent aerial surveillance or attack, although this was work in progress.
The entrance to the building was under cover of natural shrubs and trees, concealing it from the road, thus limiting any view of the gated entry and its sophisticated security access system leading to monitored underground parking.
“How are things coming along, Abi?”
“Going good, Boss. I have Dom’s results which I am still cross-checking on the systems.”
“Who’s Bernie with?”
“Oh, that’s Sue Evans, the geo-profiler. They’ve just got the prelim profile report, and they’re working on possible locations now.”
Jago took a mental note. “Okay, so what do you think so far?”
“Well, your list doesn’t cross-reference with anything that Dom’s provided … yet.”
Abi spun her chair around and wheeled herself across to another computer that had been flashing and beeping for the last few moments.
“These are the results from the list you provided. I wanted to see if anyone was linked to the locations, people and funding that we have so far.” She pointed to a diagram on the screen. “You can see that so far there are no links. But we’ll just keep changing their variables. It’s only a matter of time.”
“So, there’s no link between the Orenid and any of the targets?”
“Not that we know of … yet.”
“Have you tried looking at spouses, relatives, workers?”
“We’re on that now. Those variables are in the second phase, and this Hot Brain Intel Software is the best there is. It’s not even on the market yet.”
“So, no Russian investors?”
“Well, yes, there’s a couple, but none of them is a spouse of our dead Russian. Her name is Alexa Petrov, now widow of said Bogdan Petrov the deceased.”
J
ago thought aloud. “Did he have any sisters, a half-brother, ex-wives, a love child … anything?”
“I’m on it, Boss. Give me a chance.”
Jago gazed out of the window. “We don’t have time, Abi. We need information, and we need it now.”
Abi knew Jago well. Three years ago, Jago had picked her up. She had been a deeply depressed, whisky-drinking, wheelchair-bound ex-squaddie. Jago had trawled the veterans’ forums and websites looking for someone with the relevant skills to run his control centre. He’d heard a rumour about Abi, who had been with 18 (UKSF) Signals Regiment and was detached to the SBS Signals Squadron. She’d been in a helicopter when it was downed in Afghanistan. She sustained a fractured pelvis and a spinal injury, resulting in the loss of both legs. She’d attended all the rehab on offer, but when she started out in civilian life, she took to the bottle and her life spiralled downwards. Jago found her in a squalid studio apartment and paid for her to get the help she needed. When she was cleaned up, Jago took her to dinner in style, then offered her the Ops Control job.
She understood that Jago would not rest until he’d caught those responsible for the crimes that they were investigating. He may have only taken the case a couple of days ago, but he owned it. It was his responsibility to see it through to the end.
Bernie appeared from his self-imposed hibernation with the geo-profiler. “Boss, take a look at this.”
Bernie had laid out some witness statements that had been gathered from door-to-door enquiries.
“Okay, I’m looking. What am I not seeing?”
“Well, this elderly lady, Mrs Fisher, calls in a sighting of a UFO, bless her. She states that she’s seen it a few times and the date on this is the 19th December, but she remembers it also being there on the 15th of December as well, because it was her neighbour’s birthday and they were chatting over the garden fence when they both saw it.”
“So, what have UFO sightings got to do with us?”
“Hear me out, all will become clear.”
Bernie directed Jago to the map on the stand and continued. “Mrs Fisher lives in Ash Close, and her property backs onto some fields south-west of the Willows. In the distance, here.”
Shades of Loyalty Page 7