Red Strike

by Chris Ryan

  ‘Bloody hell, that was a close call,’ he said. ‘Thought that PA was going to blow our cover back there, for sure.’

  ‘Need a drink, mate? Calm your nerves?’

  ‘Piss off, Jock.’

  Bald laughed and shook his head. ‘Maybe you could do with having a few measures of the demon drink. Get some of your old spark back.’

  Porter rounded on his mucker. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You’ve lost your edge,’ Bald said. ‘That PA was about to scream for help when we walked in on her, and you just fucking stood there. If it wasn’t for me, we’d be in handcuffs by now.’

  ‘I was trying to calm her down.’

  ‘Bollocks. You’ve gone soft. You might be fit and sober these days, but you’re a shadow of the hard bastard I used to know in the Regiment. I’m the one having to do all the heavy lifting on this thing.’

  ‘That’s a fucking lie.’

  ‘Is it? It was my idea to slap the secret mic on Lansbury. I’m the one who suggested tailing him to the meet. What have you done?’

  Porter shook his head slowly. ‘I’m just trying to do things the right way. Keep both our noses clean.’

  ‘Aye, and where would that have got us? Nowhere.’

  ‘This isn’t like the old days. You can’t go around breaking the rules anymore.’

  ‘You forget who we’re dealing with,’ Bald said. ‘Lansbury is a slippery fucker. We’re not going to catch him by playing it by the book. We’ve got to get our hands dirty, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘Vauxhall told us they want a clean operation,’ Porter growled.

  Bald chuckled and shook his head. ‘Christ, listen to you. Six has got you wrapped round their little finger. Face it, mate. You’ve lost that bit of devilment all of us Blades have got.’

  Porter clenched his fist, felt the anger building up inside his chest. He bit back on it and glowered at his mucker. ‘You don’t understand. It took me ages to sort my life out. Get my head clear. I’ve got a good thing going on, and I’m not about to piss it away just because you won’t play by the fucking rules.’

  ‘Tell yourself that. But there’s only one of us trying to put Lansbury behind bars. And it sure as fuck ain’t you.’

  Sixty seconds later, a Mercedes-Benz S-Class pulled up outside the hotel. Derek Lansbury debussed from the back seat, gave a cursory nod to the chauffeur and another one to the doorman before he swept inside the lobby. He wore a smug grin and moved with an extra spring in his step as he approached the reception. Like a City banker who had just been told the good news about his annual bonus. His grin was so wide you would have needed a ferry to cross it.

  Porter and Bald both stood up to greet their boss as he drew near.

  ‘Good meeting, sir?’ asked Bald.

  ‘Oh, very good,’ replied Lansbury. ‘Very productive indeed.’

  His eyes were glowing with excitement. There was something about his face that made Bald want to punch it. He faked a smile instead.

  ‘Glad to hear it, sir.’

  ‘As you should be, my good man. A few days from now, you’re going to be working for one of the richest men in Britain.’

  ‘Really, sir? How’s that?’

  ‘Oh, just a minor business venture I’ve been working on.’ Lansbury tapped the side of his nose. ‘I can’t say too much about it at the moment, but let’s just say that all my hard work is about to pay off. Handsomely.’

  Lansbury’s grin stretched out even further across his smug face. Bald said, ‘Good for you, sir. You’re a great man. You deserve it, after everything you’ve done for the country.’

  Christ, thought Porter. Jock’s laying it on thick. Not for the first time, he wondered whether Bald was really just following orders. Or was he trying to appeal directly to Lansbury? Win him over somehow? Porter didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be completely sure. With Bald, you never quite knew where you stood.

  ‘I do have some bad news, however,’ Lansbury said.

  ‘Sir?’

  Lansbury smiled, sheepishly. ‘I’m afraid I managed to lose that tracker you fellows gave me.’

  Bald’s left eyebrow caterpillar-climbed up his brow. ‘How did that happen, sir?’

  ‘Honestly, I’ve no idea. I can only suppose that the damn thing must have fallen off when I nipped out to get some fags. Didn’t even realise that I’d lost it until I got out of the car, sadly.’

  ‘No problem, sir. We’ll sort you out with a replacement.’

  Lansbury scanned the lobby, his eyebrows wrinkled into a deep frown. ‘Don’t suppose either of you has seen Freya? I’ve been trying her phone for the past half hour without any luck.’

  Porter and Bald glanced at one another. Bald coughed and said, ‘Actually, sir, we’ve some bad news of our own.’

  ‘Oh? What is it?’

  ‘Probably better if we discuss this in private.’

  ‘I see.’ Lansbury glanced at his watch. ‘Very well. But this had better be quick. I’m due to speak to the Telegraph shortly. Give them my side of the mugging story.’

  ‘Don’t worry, sir. This won’t take long.’

  They led Lansbury across the lobby and took the elevator to the third floor. Flanked him as he stalked down the brightly lit corridor and drew to a halt outside his suite. Bald and Porter watched him swipe open the door before they followed him down the short hallway into the lounge area. Lansbury took off his waxed farmer’s jacket, laid it over the arm of the three-person sofa. Placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head at his bodyguards.

  ‘Well? What the devil is going on?’

  Porter looked towards Bald. The latter dipped a hand into his jacket pocket, extracted the spare bugs and set them down on the coffee table. Lansbury bent down and peered at them. ‘What are these?’

  ‘GSM listening devices,’ Bald said. ‘Advanced surveillance equipment. Otherwise known as bugs. Professional spies plant them in order to listen in on private conversations.’

  Lansbury lifted his head, looked closely at Bald. ‘Where did you find them?’

  ‘Earlier this morning myself and Porter conducted a routine sweep of your room. We found two devices, hidden in your bedroom and lounge. We presented Miss Jansen with this information. It was our understanding that aside from yourself and the cleaning staff, she is the only one with regular access to your room.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Following our conversation, Miss Jansen reluctantly agreed to a search of her room. After conducting a thorough search, we located an additional device in her hand luggage.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘These are high-grade devices, sir,’ Porter added. ‘Not available on the commercial market.’

  Lansbury’s face dropped. ‘Freya was bugging my room? Spying on me?’

  ‘It appears so, sir.’

  ‘Where is she now? I must talk to her. At once.’

  ‘That’s not possible, sir.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’

  Bald coughed. ‘When we confronted Miss Jansen with this discovery, she denied having anything to do with it, accused us of setting her up and threatened to call security unless we left her room immediately. Having no powers of arrest and mindful of causing a scene, we had no choice but to agree to her request. Miss Jansen said she would remain in her room until you returned so we could clear things up. However, when we last checked on her, we found her room empty and her passport, phone and wallet missing.’

  Lansbury looked apoplectic. ‘You just let her go?’

  ‘As I said, sir, we had no choice. If we had confined Miss Jansen against her will, we would have risked being detained by local law enforcement on charges of kidnapping and false imprisonment. Porter and myself decided that it would be better to get her to cooperate, rather than bring undue attention to another member of your staff.’

  ‘She’s a damn traitor! And after all I’ve done for that bitch . . .’ He snorted loudly through his nostrils, rounded on Bald and Po
rter. ‘You should have kept her here.’

  ‘Sorry, sir. We did our best.’

  ‘And we have no idea where she is now?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Well, that’s fucking brilliant.’

  Lansbury paced over to the window, stared out across the city, gritting his teeth so hard Bald and Porter could almost hear the enamel crack. He spun back around.

  ‘I don’t understand. Gary and Mick, the old bodyguards, swept this room regularly and didn’t find anything. How on earth did she do it?’

  Bald said, ‘It’s our belief that Miss Jansen knew in advance of the previous team’s sweeps and ensured that the devices were remotely switched off beforehand. That way, the detector wouldn’t pick them up.’

  ‘How did she get hold of them? These . . . bugs?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Porter said. ‘But it’s unlikely she would have been able to purchase these devices herself. We think someone must have given them to her. A third party.’

  Lansbury looked up, his brow heavily furrowed. ‘Freya was working for someone?’

  ‘We believe so, sir.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘We don’t know, sir. And it’s not our place to speculate. We’re just presenting you with the facts.’

  For a few seconds Lansbury said nothing. He just stood there, eyeballing the bugs, bristling with rage. His expression darkening, as if a shadow was moving across his face.

  ‘I should have known,’ he said after a pause.

  ‘Known what, sir?’ asked Bald.

  ‘Someone bugged me. This morning. When I went to meet my . . . friend.’

  Bald stared at Lansbury, his face not giving anything away.

  ‘I couldn’t figure out who might have planted the device on me,’ Lansbury went on. ‘I was beginning to suspect you two might have been involved. Now it’s clear that Jansen was the culprit all along.’

  Porter said, ‘Who would be snooping on you, sir?’

  ‘I’ve got enemies,’ Lansbury replied darkly. He lifted his eyes to his bodyguards. ‘I had a phone call from a contact in the justice department a while ago. He tells me the police have been questioning Gary and Mick about the mugging. My guys are swearing blind that the man who attacked them was an expert in martial arts, not some random thief. They’ve also got an eyewitness who saw the attacker fleeing the scene. Chap ran like Usain Bolt on steroids, the witness claims. What beggar have you ever seen running like that?’

  ‘Sounds suspicious, sir,’ Bald said.

  ‘That’s what the authorities think. They’re treating it as a planned assault instead of a random mugging. They think my bodyguards were deliberately targeted.’

  ‘By who?’ asked Porter.

  ‘I don’t know. But the way my life has been for the past few years, nothing would surprise me anymore.’ He pointed a long nicotine-stained finger at Bald and Porter. ‘You two are going to need eyes in the backs of your heads from now on.’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for, sir. To keep you safe.’

  Lansbury collapsed on to the sofa and picked up one of the bugs from the coffee table. Stared bitterly at it. ‘I still can’t believe it. Freya. Of all the people.’

  ‘In my experience, sir,’ said Bald, ‘it’s always the ones you think you can trust the most who stab you in the back.’

  Lansbury nodded absently as he set down the bug. ‘Well, thank God you two rumbled her. Goodness knows what damage she might have done if she’d been allowed to continue. You did well, both of you.’

  ‘Just doing our job, sir.’

  ‘And you’re doing a damn better job of it than the last chaps. I’ll be sure to put in a good word with my friend Lord McGinn. Tell him about the good work you’re doing. How’s that?’

  A fucking bonus would be better, Bald thought. Tight bastard.

  ‘Very kind of you,’ he said.

  ‘Any time. And I shall need you two watching my back at this gathering tonight, of course. No doubt some hard-left lunatics will try to infiltrate the event.’

  Porter screwed up his face. ‘I thought this conference was a secret, sir?’

  ‘It is. But news of these events inevitably leaks out somehow. Our political enemies are always trying to find out what we’re up to.’

  Bald said, ‘We’ll need to discuss the security arrangements at this meeting before we leave. The more we know, the better we can protect you.’

  Lansbury waved a hand. ‘Ask away. What do you need to know?’

  ‘First, where is this thing being held?’ asked Porter.

  ‘Koman Castle. A country estate, an hour or so to the south of here. Used to be owned by a Hungarian count, I believe, back in the days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. There’s a stable and helipad, and a thermal spa.’

  ‘You’ve been there before?’

  ‘A few times, yes. The owner is a personal friend of mine. Fellow by the name of Vitaly Butko. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?’

  Bald and Porter shook their heads simultaneously.

  ‘Who is he, sir?’ asked Porter.

  ‘A self-made Russian businessman and art collector. Made his fortune in Siberia in the gold-mining trade. Moved to Budapest and married his Hungarian girlfriend, a former Miss Universe. He’s a good friend of President Fodor. He’s also one of our key allies in the fight against the hectoring, out-of-touch liberal elites who have corrupted the West.’

  Bald said, ‘Butko is behind the gathering?’

  ‘He’s sponsoring it. Butko has kindly agreed to let us host the conference at his country retreat. He’s providing the security, the dinner and entertainment, and he’ll sit in on the talks. But that’s as far as his involvement goes.’

  ‘What’s the security like at this place?’

  ‘Extremely tight. One of the reasons we elected to have the meeting at Butko’s castle, actually.’

  ‘Can you give us specifics, sir?’

  Lansbury scrunched up his face in thought. ‘From memory, there are guards at the gate. Two of them, I believe. Armed, too. Some more chaps patrolling the grounds inside and the rear of the property. Don’t ask me how many; I couldn’t remember for the life of me. More than a few, at any rate. Plus additional staff inside the house. Oh, and there are dogs too. German shepherds, I believe.’

  ‘Sounds like your friend has got some personal security concerns.’

  ‘He’s a man who values his privacy. And he’s made a number of enemies over the years.’

  ‘In the gold mine business?’

  ‘He has other interests too. Ones that don’t concern you. Two years ago, his eldest son was kidnapped by Chechen criminals and held hostage for three weeks. Butko had to pay an enormous ransom. The kidnappers returned his son, minus three of his fingers and his left ear. After that, Butko vowed never to be a target again. So he invested heavily in his personal security service.’

  ‘Who else is going tonight?’

  ‘I’m afraid that information is strictly confidential. All the guests are sworn to secrecy. No photos, no media briefings, no social media postings. That goes for both of you, I might add.’

  ‘Can you tell us how many people are gonna be there, at least?’

  ‘Forty, including myself. It’s a very exclusive guest list.’

  ‘What’s the plan once we arrive, sir?’ asked Porter.

  ‘We’ll get there for five o’clock. There’s a drinks reception on arrival, and then the meeting will take place at five-thirty. It will go on for about two hours, followed by a dinner to celebrate our alliance. Should be done by midnight. Going to be quite a lot of sitting around in the car for you two. I suggest you bring a book.’

  Porter did a double take. ‘We’re not going in with you, sir?’

  ‘God, no. Butko’s security team would never allow it. The only people allowed inside the meeting are the guests themselves. Not even their aides are permitted to go in with them.’

  ‘What are we supposed to do while you’re busy inside?’

/>   ‘Hang around in the reception. Or pass the time in the car. Whichever you prefer.’

  Bald pursed his lips. For an instant he considered arguing the decision with Lansbury. But that tactic hadn’t worked before, and he didn’t see any reason why it would work this time. If Lansbury didn’t want them anywhere near the meeting, their hands were tied. He was the principal, after all. Bald tried a different tack instead. ‘Can you at least wear another tracker while you’re inside, sir?’

  Lansbury shook his head. ‘Butko takes his security very seriously. They wouldn’t let me within a hundred yards of the place if I wore one of those things.’

  ‘You’ll be out of contact, sir,’ Bald said. ‘We won’t have any way of knowing if you’re under threat.’

  ‘I doubt that will be an issue,’ Lansbury responded confidently. ‘There’s a detector inside the entrance hallway. One of those walk-through contraptions. The guards have security wands on them as well. I am assured that they’re extremely thorough. No one will be getting inside with a weapon, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘Every guest has to pass through the gate?’

  ‘Indeed. Even me, and I’ve been helping to organise the damn thing. So you see, there’s really no need to worry about my safety. Once I’m through the cordon, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Bald replied through clenched teeth. ‘That’s good to know.’

  They were interrupted by the urgent buzz of a phone ringing. Lansbury reached into his jacket pocket, fished out his mobile. Glanced at the number glowing on the screen. ‘That’s the Telegraph. I’ll need to take this. Wait outside. I’ll give you a shout when I need you.’

  Bald opened his mouth to reply but Lansbury had already shot to his feet and turned away, phone clamped to his left ear as he answered the call. Porter signalled to Bald and they paced out of the room, taking up their stations in the corridor either side of the door.

  ‘Looks like we’re in the clear,’ Porter said quietly.

  ‘For now,’ Bald replied. ‘But not for long.’

  ‘You don’t think we’re safe?’