Shades of Loyalty

by Paul Stretton-Stephens

  “Nice work, very imaginative. This is not the sort of way that we would deal with things, but I wish that it was more often. Amadeo, you now have this highly effective experience behind you, and you need to share it with your peers.”

  “Yes, Capitán, I have learned a lot tonight, thanks to your Señor Jago.”

  “You did well, and we set out to accomplish what we wanted to achieve. José Luis, you still have a strict guard on our man, don’t you?”

  “Well, we have two wounded, so I have reduced the guard to one person at each location rather than two. Why do you ask?”

  “I have a feeling that this was a rouse, a distraction. They had greater firepower and could easily have stormed the building, but they didn’t. Okay, they weren’t expecting our move, but they could have caused more damage than they did. Maybe they’re trying another way. Can we check the boss’s whereabouts for the last twenty-four hours? Maybe it will lead us somewhere?”

  “Yes, we can check. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, can you check to see if anyone’s swapped shifts in the hospital today or volunteered for extra work? If they have, I’d like to have their mobile phones checked for messages and calls, and a patrol car sent to check on their families.”

  “As you wish. I’ll arrange it now. Oh, and by the way, Diego is conscious. Shall we speak with him?”

  “Let’s do it now. And can you redeploy the guards? Get them to check all staff in and out of the room especially. Better still, do you have your own Guardia Civil doctor?”

  “Yes, we do, but why?”

  “If we can get them here, they can check any medication that is being administered.”

  “Oh, I see.” José Luis turned to Amadeo. “Can you call base and request the doctor to attend?”

  Chapter 16 – Ways and Means

  Upon entering the guarded private room, Jago spoke first.

  “Diego, I know that you speak English. I think that you must know something significant. Tonight, they sent eight men to kill you, and after all the good work the surgeons have done to save you.”

  “Lies, lies, they wouldn’t do that. I don’t believe you,” said Diego.

  Jago opened his mobile and selected the photo of the handwritten note. He showed it to Diego.

  “The person who shot you from the rooftop was not shooting at the Capitán or me. He was shooting at you. And then they sent people to finish you off here in the hospital. You must know who ordered this and why?”

  Diego read the note and rolled his eyes. He recognised the handwriting and knew who had written the note.

  “Diego, you’re in the middle here. You can go to prison for many crimes, I’m sure, but they will get you inside. How long will you last? You can help us, and we can help you. Your other option is that we take away the guards and leave you here to fend for yourself. Which will you choose? Oh, and don’t take all day thinking about it. We’re going for a coffee with the guards, and we’ll return in fifteen minutes for your answer if you’re still alive.”

  He heard them invite the guards for a coffee and their footsteps as they disappeared into the distance. Diego tried to get up out of bed, but apart from the mass of tubes and wires he was connected to, the searing pain prevented him from doing so. He was sweating like he never had before. Diego heard a noise and some voices. He nervously kept watching the door and saw the heads of two people pass his room. It went quiet again. He was just closing his eyes when the door flew open and a nurse entered. She unhooked the chart at the foot of the bed and started to read. She moved closer to the machine that continually beeped and ticked, scrutinising the flashing screens. She recorded what she observed on the charts. Diego watched her every move. She muttered something incoherent to him and left. It was quiet again. His pulse raced, his perspiration increased. It was more than he could bear. He willed Jago and José Luis to return.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes passed and each took a seat beside Diego’s bed. José Luis spoke to him in Spanish.

  “Diego, I can speak with the prosecutor for you. Maybe we can get you a new identity, but you need to help us out. We cannot do anything unless you do. For you that is a big help, you know that. You also know that without a new identity you’re a dead man. At least this way you have a chance to live. You won’t be able to see your family again, but you can live.”

  Diego’s eyes fixed on José Luis before answering in English for the benefit of Jago.

  “How do I know that they won’t kill my family? If they know that I’m alive somewhere, they’ll get my family. What are you going to do? Give them all new identities?”

  “Why would they attack the family of a dead man? That would serve no purpose.”

  “What do you mean ‘dead man’?”

  “I mean, we fake your death and give you a new identity.”

  Diego thought long and hard. He knew that he had no choice.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what I know. But you’ve got to get me out of here. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I agree, it is too dangerous,” Jago said.

  At that moment, Amadeo knocked on the door and asked to speak with José Luis outside of the room.

  “Capitán, we have discovered that a doctor’s wife and two children have unwanted company at their house and that the doctor has instructions to administer a lethal dose to the prisoner.”

  “I see. Does that doctor know that we know?”

  “No, Capitán, not at the moment. We have his house under surveillance and two snipers in place. It appears that there are a man and a woman at the house with guns.”

  Jago asked to speak with José Luis in private, and they walked down the passage to find an empty room.

  “This is our chance,” Jago suggested. “We get them to think that Diego has been killed by the doctor and maybe they’ll let the family go. Do you think that is feasible?”

  “It could work, but we would need some assurance.”

  “What kind of assurance?”

  “I’m not sure at the moment.”

  “José Luis, do you think that I could have the use of your Guardia Civil helicopter for an hour or two?”

  “Err, yes, I think so. But what for?”

  “If I take the boss and one of his cronies for a little ride, maybe the boss will tell me what we want, then we don’t need Diego to tell us, do we?”

  “But the boss won’t tell you anything. That’s why he’s the boss.”

  “We’ll see, it’s worth a try.”

  ***

  Jago stood on the helipad with the boss still PlastiCuffed. They stood just beyond the rotors of the MBB BK 117 helicopter.

  Jago asked, “José Luis, are any of these two related to the boss?”

  “Yes, they are both cousins of his.”

  “Does the boss have a favourite, or a more trusted one?”

  “According to the data that we have on them, the slimmer one, Paco, spends more time with the boss. The other one, Carlos, is along for the ride. He’s just helping make up the numbers.”

  “Okay, good. Send Carlos back alone and bring Paco with us.”

  “What are we going to do with the both of them?”

  Jago pulled José Luis to one side and explained the details of his plan.

  “Very well, Jago. You seem to have everything under control. I’ll get everything ready that you’ve asked for. Give me five minutes.”

  “That’s great, we’ll get loaded up then.”

  José Luis indicated to a Guardia Civil officer to bring Paco over to join Jago and the boss.

  The helicopter co-pilot slid open the rear door and helped Jago guide the boss into the helicopter. Jago sat him in a seat against the far wall but in the first row of three seats that backed onto the cockpit. They helped Paco into his position which was a seat next to the sliding door. This meant that one place separated Paco and the boss. It also meant that Jago and José Luis had plenty of space for themselves.

  Jago ensured that the two gagg
ed captives were buckled up. They eyed up one another, unable to speak.

  “Would you tell them that I am going to remove their gags and that they’re not allowed to speak to one another?”

  “Certainly.”

  As José Luis explained, Jago removed the gags. They were ready for take-off. The helicopter took off into the night sky above the brightly-lit streets either side of the dark stain of the dry river bed of the Turia. Within moments, it would have been difficult for anyone inside to determine the direction in which they were going.

  “Right, José Luis. Let’s get down to work. Ask the boss here who hired him to take out the Russian?”

  José Luis placed a set of headphones on the captives and translated the question, which was met with a hostile response.

  “He says that you can go to hell.”

  “I can see that this might be tiresome, and my patience is wearing thin. Ask him how he was contacted for the job?”

  Once again, José Luis translated the question and the boss just shook his head in defiance.

  Jago removed his headphones, rose to his feet and secured a blindfold around Paco’s eyes. He then applied the same to the boss.

  “Let’s fly a little while and let him think about it,” said Jago.

  Jago sat back and relaxed as the helicopter took a route that was straight one minute and banking the next. There was a kind of hypnotic quality from the sound of the rotors and the motion created. Jago, who loved flying in helicopters, was almost in a trance when José Luis interrupted him.

  “My friend, time is running out, we will need to wrap up soon.”

  “I hear you. Ask the pilot to hover, will you?”

  As soon as the helicopter adopted the hover mode, Jago slid open the door, and a rush of warm air gushed into the cabin. Jago reached over and unbuckled Paco who immediately lent into the helicopter, fearful of the open door despite his being blindfolded.

  “Right, José Luis, ask the boss the same questions but let him know that Paco is near an open door and we are hovering at height. If he values his cousin’s life, now is the time to cooperate.”

  José Luis translated the message to the boss. There was silence. Paco called out to the boss, “Mother of mine, give them what they want, nothing is worth it! Nothing is worth dying for!”

  Blindfolded, the boss turned towards the sound of Paco’s voice. “I’m telling them nothing, they’re bluffing. They’re the law, and they cannot kill us. Look, we have no weapons in our hands, we’re not shooting at them. They have rules, they won’t kill us.”

  José Luis translated the boss’s response for Jago who was already on his feet, grabbing hold of Paco by his upper-body clothing. With all his might, he threw him out of the helicopter. Paco tried to resist, begging for his life, and then all that could be heard was his diminishing scream. Jago slammed the door shut and removed the blindfold from the boss.

  The boss adjusted his eyes and looked around the cabin. Paco was nowhere to be seen. He slumped with his head down, staring at the floor.

  “Tell him, if he doesn’t cooperate he’ll end up like Paco.”

  José Luis conveyed the message slowly and deliberately, allowing what just happened to be absorbed. He then repeated the questions from earlier, and the boss started to talk. José Luis translated the answers.

  “He says that his cousin in Colombia used to be in the military and has worked with a British man who was also in the military. They have become good friends during the battles with the drug cartels, and the British man saved his cousin’s life on more than one occasion. His cousin owed him a favour and that favour was to kill the Russian and make it look like an accident.”

  “And the cousin’s name, how can we contact him?”

  The boss answered in English, “He was Antonio Ruiz.”

  “Was?”

  “You cannot contact him, he is dead. The FARC killed him in an ambush six months ago.”

  “What is the name of this British soldier?”

  “I don’t know his real name; my cousin used to call him Star Wars, I don’t know why.”

  “Star Wars, what does that mean?”

  “As I said, man, I don’t know, it’s just what he called him.”

  José Luis interjected. “And who actually did the killing?”

  “I have no idea, it went out to an anonymous party. All I know is that they came from some Eastern European country. They’re long gone by now.”

  “And Diego, why would you want him killed?”

  “Diego has been doing some of his own business lately, but on my territory. He didn’t think I’d find out and this little fiasco provided the perfect opportunity to get rid of him before he gets, how you say … too big for his boots.”

  Jago asked, “Was the British soldier white or black?”

  “I don’t know, white I guess.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I saw a photo of my cousin and a couple of other men. They all had their faces camouflaged — they both looked white.”

  “Both?”

  “I don’t know who the other one was. It was Star Wars that went out on the joint operations. My cousin said that he was very effective, very fierce and ruthless. He didn’t care who he killed or how they were killed.”

  “When was this?”

  “I suppose it was about two years ago, maybe eighteen months. I’m not sure really.”

  “Come on, think.”

  “Okay, it was two years ago. It couldn’t have been sooner because my cousin’s wife had just had their second baby.”

  “I think we’ve heard enough, let’s return to base.”

  The helicopter flew for about five minutes before it landed at the hospital helipad. As they exited, the boss locked his eyes on Paco who was standing near the building with a couple of Guardia Civil officers guarding him.

  The boss couldn’t believe his eyes, and while they walked the thirty metres towards him, he cried out, “You bastards! You bastards, you tricked me!”

  José Luis replied, “We have our ways. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don’t. Today they worked very well, thank you. Thank you so much for telling us everything.”

  Chapter 17 – Sweeping

  “Bernie, come and look at this,” said Abi, glued to one of her floating screens.

  “What have you got?”

  “We’ve had the area swept for countermeasure devices around all of the incident sites and look what we found. It’s not transmitting any longer but it’s worth taking a closer look.”

  “What is it?” asked Bernie.

  “It looks like a high-quality fish eye camera that can transmit. It was found on the underside of a lamppost outside the residential home. You know, that part that hangs over. It was in the crook of the overhang. It could have been transmitting images before, during and even after the incident.”

  “Why do you say ‘after’?”

  “How else would they know who was in charge of the case? They probably gathered images of the crime scene staff and cross-referenced them with the local police. They could have even used facial recognition software. Once they knew who to target, they could create a distraction, such as the kid with the drugs. When Daddy is preoccupied, the case gets passed on to someone else who starts from scratch, therefore buying them more time.”

  “Then we must assume that they’ve got access to all of the police databases.”

  “And it’s no coincidence that all of the investigating officers have had to hand over their cases!”

  “Do we have more devices at other locations?”

  “No, not yet. But I bet they’re there somewhere. I’d better tell the boss.”

  “I’d wait if I were you. I might have something to add shortly. I’m just sifting through some checks that I’ve done on the residents at the home. Give me a minute.”

  “What have you found, Bernie?”

  “I’ve fed in the names of the residents and the staff of the home to try and see a co
nnection.”

  “But haven’t the local plod already done that?”

  “Well, yes, but I’m also cross-referencing the names with previous names, maiden names and the visitors in the visitors’ book over the last twelve months.”

  “And?”

  “And, my friend, it seems that one of the victims that was wounded and lost a limb is the mother of one of our politicians, Mary Harker, MP for Strelley. It seems that the mother, one Mrs Eileen Steele, was divorced, remarried and then widowed. And the home had her first married name of Burns recorded as her maiden name.”

  “I’ve never heard of her. What’s the significance anyway?”

  “That I don’t know yet. But it’s our only lead apart from a seventy-five-year-old resident who died in the blast. He was an ex-con. He did a nine-year stretch for robbery when he was in his early twenties and there’s nothing recorded since. I’m going to take a hunch and trace the life of Mary Harker.”

  “You want me to tell the boss?”

  “Yes please, and I’ve checked all the military installations near the incidents and, apart from London, which is obvious, there are military bases in Hampshire, Devon and North Yorkshire so they could have used any one of them. I can’t really do any more digging without getting involved with each base. Ask him what he wants me to do in this respect?”

  “Okay, will do, Bernie.”

  ***

  “Hi Abi, Fi here, going secure.”

  “Hi Fi, secure this end.”

  “Abi, I’ve a report from the St Mark’s Railway Conservation Club in St Marks, Devon. Virtually everyone there is a retired engineer and railway enthusiast in the locality. Nobody stands out apart from an old retired colonel, Owen Andersen-George. He’s ex-parachute regiment, Special Forces and for the last twelve years of his service he held a desk job at the MOD. He’s been retired a couple of years now, though, and it seems that he loves trains. Have you got all that?”

  “Yes, received, Fi. Do you have sit-rep on the hospital?”

  “Yes, the secretary is obviously still on sick leave. She’s in a bad way and the hospital don’t know whether to expect her back or not. As for Dr Dean to whom the package was addressed, he seems pretty normal. His work as a consultant clinical psychologist does not appear to be controversial, and he sits on a number of advisory boards for the NHS, Home Office and MOD. He’s in a long-distance relationship with a woman in the US. He is financially stable with no apparent skeletons in the cupboard on the home front. He’s not an obvious target.”