Her Mind's Eye

by D C Vaughn

  Ashton’s mind raced.

  ‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘There are others here, each with chips in their heads just like the ones you have data for. I don’t suppose the Kremlin will be happy to learn that you’ve left the country without finishing your job, leaving evidence behind of Russian espionage.’

  Artyom pushed the pistol harder into Ashton’s guts.

  ‘And we have all the evidence we need to get you arrested here in the UK, Ashton.’

  ‘Then we have mutually assured destruction,’ Ashton agreed. ‘Better to ensure that we both get what we want, no? I will arrange a flight to Moscow for you both. In return, I expect all of the loose ends to be tied up.’

  Artyom sneered into his face. ‘Why the hell should we do more dirty work for you, Ashton?’

  ‘Fifty thousand,’ Ashton replied. ‘For each and every victim removed, and the Kremlin need not know about the extra work done.’

  There was a long pause, the car silent as both men considered the offer. Sergie looked at Artyom. ‘How many are left?’

  Ashton grinned, his grip on the wheel relaxing a little. ‘Eight.’

  Artyom hesitated, then pressed the pistol hard against Ashton. ‘A hundred thousand each.’

  Ashton grimaced, but nodded. ‘No more though, or I won’t be able to conceal the transactions.’

  Sergie leaned back, uncertain. ‘How do we find them?’

  ‘Their chips are still trackable,’ he replied. ‘You can do the work in a single night and be gone by tomorrow.’

  Artyom looked at Sergie, who nodded. ‘Only one problem, Ashton.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘We need to make sure that you’re not suspected by the police for a little longer, for our own benefit of course.’

  Ashton didn’t understand for a moment, but then with a sudden and terrible realisation he saw the look in Artyom’s eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, but strong arms gripped him from behind his seat and pinned him in place as Artyom’s forehead smashed into Ashton’s nose.

  The old man cried out in pain as Artyom swung the butt of the pistol again and again against his face. Ashton slumped against the door of his Mercedes as his world vanished into blackness.

  ***

  XXXV

  Detective Constable Hannah Marchant walked into Neuray’s offices just after sunset, and was led up toward Dylan Carter’s office by his secretary. It was late in the day but Hannah knew that the CEO would still be at his desk: folks like Dylan had lives that revolved around their work.

  She walked in with the secretary to see Dylan Carter packing boxes on his desk, his jacket and tie tossed over the back of a leather chair, his shirt loosened.

  ‘Detective Constable Hannah Marchant to see you sir…’

  The secretary broke off as she saw the boxes being packed. Dylan, his shirt sleeves rolled up, smiled at the secretary.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s just Dylan now, Emma.’

  ‘What happened?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Vote of no confidence,’ Dylan replied grandly, as though he was fine with it, but Hannah could see and sense the raw dismay behind the act. ‘I was voted out of my job by the board after the police investigation into Sam Lincoln. Many thanks for that, detective.’

  Hannah kept a lid on her desire to defend the work of the constabulary.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she replied.

  Dylan smiled bitterly at her. ‘Twenty–two years in corporate business and never, ever, have I been fired before. If there’s anything else you need, you’ll have to speak to Ashton, and if that’s not good enough you can speak to my damned lawyer.’

  ‘Ashton’s taken the company back?’ Hannah asked, surprised.

  ‘A firmer hand at the helm, by all accounts,’ Dylan confirmed, betrayal shining like the tip of a sword in his eyes. ‘Now, ladies, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to continue packing my things and thinking about what I’m going to do with what’s left of my fucking life.’

  Hannah and the secretary turned and walked out of the office.

  ‘Where is Ashton Kershaw’s office?’

  ‘Mr Kershaw left for the day I’m afraid,’ Emma replied. ‘I can call him back if you need me to?’

  Hannah frowned. ‘I thought I saw a car in his space in the car park, silver?’

  ‘A Mercedes, yes,’ Emma replied. ‘Are you sure it was Mr Kershaw’s place?’

  Hannah nodded but said nothing as she walked to the stairwell and hurried down. Emma followed her, evidently about to leave for home herself, and they walked together out into the car park. The sky was black now above them, the car park illuminated by pools of sodium yellow street light.

  ‘There,’ Emma pointed. ‘It’s that one.’

  Emma walked across to the Mercedes with Hannah at her side, and then the secretary’s hand flew to her mouth and her jaw dropped. Hannah reacted instantly and pushed past her to see Ashton Kershaw slumped in the driver’s seat, blood spilling in thick congealed pools on the window glass as he groaned and raised a hand to them for help.

  ‘Get an ambulance, now!’ Hannah shouted at the secretary.

  Hannah opened the car door and held Ashton’s head in her hands as he groaned.

  ‘Take it easy,’ she said to him. ‘An ambulance is on its way.’

  She tried to ascertain the extent of his injuries but with the amount of blood it was hard to tell. His nose was broken and one eye was swelling massively where it looked as though he’d been kicked repeatedly in the head.

  ‘Try not to move,’ she said to him. ‘Who did this to you?’

  Ashton worked his jaw to try to reply to her, his eyes filled with pain.

  ‘Russians,’ he gasped. ‘Came here, stole data.’

  Hannah stared down at him for a moment and then she reached for her cell phone. ‘Can you identify them?’ she asked.

  Ashton blinked his one good eye, swallowed thickly. ‘They just left. My height, brown hair, red sweater and…’

  ‘Blue jeans, white trainers,’ Hannah gasped in reply as she realised that she had passed a man dressed in the same way at the building entrance.

  She kept one hand holding Ashton’s as with the other she dialled DCI Stone.

  ‘Stone.’

  ‘I’m here with Ashton Kershaw,’ she said quickly. ‘He’s been assaulted, says the perpetrators were Russians who I’ve identified as just leaving the building. I need an all persons’ bulletin on his description immediately.’

  Hannah passed the man’s details on to Stone. There was a moment’s pause and then Stone spoke to her.

  ‘You just described Colin.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The man who Rebecca claimed abducted her and assaulted Sam’s parents.’

  Hannah recalled the description of Colin given them at Commercial Road by the witness, the single mother. Hannah rubbed her temples. Suddenly, Rebecca’s wild claims seemed to be thrown into sharp relief. Worse, she could not be held and her solicitor would press for her release as soon as possible.

  ‘This is insane,’ she said. ‘We can’t hold Kyle now.’

  ‘I know. We’re back to square one. What about Kershaw?’

  ‘He’s conscious but in a bad way,’ she replied. ‘Says something about stolen data, taken by the Russians.’

  ‘Stay at Neuray. I want a team in that office, same as Kyle’s apartment, no stone unturned. If we can place the Russian there as the same guy who abducted Rebecca Kyle, then we can connect Neuray directly to whatever the hell’s been going on out here.’

  ‘You think everything Rebecca said was on the straight and narrow?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think any more,’ Stone replied. ‘Just keep the scene clean until forensics arrive. We might not be able to get a team down there until tomorrow.’

  ‘You should know,’ Hannah said, moving out of earshot from Ashton Kershaw, ‘Dylan Carter was fired today, by Kershaw.’

  There was a long silence on the phone. ‘You think
Kershaw suspects him of involvement somehow with the Russians?’

  ‘He didn’t say as much, but given what’s happened here in the car park, it’s something we’ve got to consider. Carter may be pulling the strings for all of this, and he’s been right under our noses the whole time.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll brief in the morning on how we’ll handle all of this. Just get the forensics team through there as fast as you can, and don’t let Carter anywhere near it.’

  Hannah shut off the line and returned to Ashton’s side. ‘You rest easy,’ she said as soothingly as she could.

  Ashton shook his head, tears flowing from one eye, blood from the other. ‘Why would they do this?’

  His body was shaking uncontrollably, and Hannah realised that she too was shaking with rage. Ashton Kershaw was a vulnerable old man, hardly a deserving target. She rested one hand on top of his to steady it.

  ‘We’ll find them,’ she promised.

  ***

  XXXVI

  Rebecca Kyle walked out of the Devon & Cornwall Police Headquarters and was surprised to find that there was no barrage of camera flashes or press reporters awaiting her. The fact that the force was managing to keep the whole affair under such tight control was a source of amazement to her, but also a relief.

  ‘You cannot do anything to compromise your position at this time,’ her solicitor said to her as they walked. ‘This evening’s attack on Ashton Kershaw has thrown fresh light on the case and the charges against you have been dropped, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a person of interest in the case. I suspect they’ll be watching you closely.’

  ‘I would,’ she replied, giving the solicitor a sharp glance.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘It’s not every day I find myself representing a police detective. If Dylan Carter is behind all of this and the Russians and Neuray are deserting him, as you believe, then let justice and DCI Stone’s team take their natural course. They will find out what’s behind it all and your record will be cleared.’

  Rebecca nodded, but she was only half–listening.

  ‘Sam’s still out there, and he’s the one they’re really after. I can’t abandon him to face this on his own.’

  ‘Samuel Lincoln is the least of your worries,’ the solicitor said as he reached his car. ‘It’s his work for Neuray that got you into this mess, and he’s the one with an assault charge against him. I know that you want to help, but things are complicated enough right now and you’re hanging onto your reputation by a thread.’

  ‘Truth is truth,’ Rebecca shot back.

  ‘Not where national security is concerned,’ he replied. ‘Ashton Kershaw is now in one of his own hospitals, you’re in the clear of the charges for now and Samuel has a lot of questions to answer when he finally decides to hand himself in. I’d suggest that he do so very soon and I’d ask you to tell him that, should he try to contact you.’

  Rebecca felt the familiar tug of emotions pulling her this way and that, an endless turmoil that swirled through her. The solicitor sensed her indecision.

  ‘Look, I understand your loyalty to Sam, but he’s the one who left you in that cottage and took whatever evidence there was to prove your story. DCI Stone’s team have enough evidence to lay other charges against you to keep you in custody, Rebecca, not least the home invasion at the Lincoln’s place, but they’ve chosen not to. That tells me that at some level they now believe what you’re saying. Don’t squander that opportunity. Can I give you a ride home?’

  Rebecca shook her head and smiled her thanks.

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’d like to walk and clear my head a little.’

  The solicitor nodded reluctantly. ‘Straight home.’

  Rebecca turned away and shoved her hands into her coat pockets, heading off into the autumnal gloom. She felt overwhelmed with everything that had happened, but at the same time the looming sense that it was far from over enveloped her like the growing darkness. Dylan Carter was now out of Neuray, so her solicitor had told her. Was he attempting to flee, to distance himself from what had happened? The man was a millionaire after all, and could easily use his connections to travel to countries without an extradition treaty with the United Kingdom.

  Colin and his accomplice had vanished after attacking Kershaw. If he was indeed a Russian, then he would probably be seeking to escape the UK and get back to Moscow. That act alone would place all blame for the events that had occurred on the shoulders of the Kremlin’s operatives. Rebecca would be recognised as a pawn in a bigger game, and while she would not be able to prove the presence of the technology that Neuray possessed and had used against her, Sam’s testimony would presumably match hers and provide a compelling circumstantial case.

  The problem, of course, was that the MOD would not be drawn into discussions regarding Neuray’s work for them and would in all probability attempt to force a gagging order onto all involved. That left Sam’s testimony in tatters and the chip he’d removed from her head as inadmissable in a court of law. Dylan Carter would simply claim that the Russians had infiltrated Neuray, and attempted to steal the data they sought in a crime of espionage. That story left only one loose thread. Sam.

  Sam’s knowledge of the work might be enough to expose far more than either Kershaw or the Ministry of Defence would like to be seen in public. The revelatory nature of the technology would be explosive to say the least, but the fact that it had already been used in people without their consent would be absolutely incediary. It beggarded belief that Neuray could have got the chips into people without them knowing. It had taken a local anaesthetic for Sam to remove Rebecca’s chip, so it couldn’t have happened quickly in any of the cases. She wondered who on earth would have been so far gone that they could be implanted without their knowledge and…

  Rebecca stopped in her tracks.

  The cameras.

  The footage she had seen in Colin’s house. The people. They were out there still, being observed, their very thoughts being watched and perhaps even recorded. She recalled noting that the weather on the images had been the same as Exeter that day, suggesting that the individuals concerned where at the very least in the UK and perhaps in the same area.

  Suddenly, she knew where Sam had gone. His only course of action, the only way he could clear his name of the crimes, was to prove that Neuray was watching people’s thoughts and actions every day. He would try to locate the people who had been implanted, the people on Colin’s cameras. Colin had said that the technology piggy–backed off existing mobile phone networks. Rebecca knew that the police could use those networks to locate individuals through the use of their mobile phones.

  If Sam knew anything about the signal codes of the chips, if they were somehow tagged to allow physical tracking, then he would be able to hunt them down. He might even be able to convince them to join his cause and expose Neuray’s work to the public, thus proving his story and protecting him against any attempt by Russia or the UK government to silence him.

  She recalled the imagery she had seen, of the wearers of the chips, and of how the weather and the local scenery had matched that of Exeter. Sam had not fled the city after the attack, had stayed in the area, and with a sudden realisation Rebecca knew where the other chips were. She knew precisely into whom they had been implanted.

  Rebecca changed course from her home as a plan formed in her mind.

  *

  Hannah Marchant left the Neuray offices at a little after eight o’clock in the evening, three hours after her day shift had supposed to end. That in itself was nothing unusual, given that a typical CID detective would often work beyond their hours on any particular case should new evidence arrive, but she had been on her feet for almost eighteen hours now and fatigue was tugging at her eyes. With Ashton in hospital and forensics now working his car, under the watchful eye of two uniformed officers, her work was finally done and she could head home and get some sleep.

  She walked out into the car park and headed toward her vehicle. Hannah liked small
, nimble cars, great for beating the Exeter rush–hour traffic, and the little Micra before her was perfect for the job.

  The drive home was uneventful and performed with almost robotic–like actions as she pulled onto her drive and shut the engine off. She got out, locked the car, and walked in a near–daze to her front door before unlocking it.

  Hannah reached out for the door, one hand on her keys, the other on the handle.

  The hand that gripped her wrist was like an iron vice, shooting out from the darkness that surrounded her. The man must have been waiting for her, watching, to have surprised her so completely.

  Hannah turned instinctively away from the hand and tried to jab her car keys into the eyes of whoever was behind her but the man ducked his head into her neck and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her own against her sides. Hannah opened her mouth to scream, but the man slapped one hand over her mouth and dragged her away from the vehicle.

  Hannah kicked and fought as she was dragged backwards. She tried to butt his face with the back of her head but he was tucked in too close. She raised one heel and drove the side of her shoe down his shin, trying to stamp the skin from the bone and turn him away from the pain, but it didn’t deter him and moments later she was being hauled backwards through her own front door.

  Moments later, her attacker kicked it shut after them, sealing them alone inside her house.

  ***

  XXXVII

  The towpaths were abandoned, enshrouded in darkness. A cold wind gusted over the black water, rippling the lights reflected on the surface as Rebecca walked alone and kept an eye on the bridges as she passed under them.

  Given the colder nights, she hadn’t expected to find many homeless people lodged under these lonely stretches of riverside. Most sought out the warm exhaust of town centre air–conditioning systems that billowed clouds of blissful heat on frosty nights, or doorways inside banks where pedestrians would get cash from the machines.