by J J Cooper
'The Prime Minister will answer that question for you.'
TWENTY-EIGHT
Pat highlighted Jay's story to the Prime Minister before handing the phone over.
'Good afternoon, sir.'
'Good afternoon, Jay. I am glad you've made it this far.'
Jay didn't understand the comment but stuck with protocol. 'Thank you, sir.'
'I want to say how appalled I am at the treatment you have had to suffer over the past few days and I pray that you, your father and Agent Evans will pull through this in one piece. Having said that, I want to share with you my thoughts on the situation.'
Yep, Jay thought. Rapport established – now for the political agenda. 'Yes, sir.'
'The interrogation you conducted in Iraq was a first-class job. The information you received, however, has the potential to destabilise alliances of a global nature. I know you understand such ramifications, Jay.'
'Yes I do, sir.' Of course he understood the ramifications of the report. That's why he sent the information to the Chief of the Defence Force.
'Good. I acted on the information you provided in the best interests of the global peace process. It was bigger than just our nation's interests. That is why I will never admit to having seen or heard of that report, or this conversation. I will not let my government be destabilised by an opposition who murdered to prove that document's credentials. I cannot help you, Jay. Do you understand my reasons?'
No, not really, he thought. It was clear the Prime Minister was cutting Jay loose. Plausible deniability. 'Yes, sir.'
'I doubt you do at this stage. I hope that one day you will understand why I have taken this position. I pray for your safety. Do not seek help from any government departments. They cannot help you. This is something you need to do on your own. God bless, Jay.' The line went dead.
Jay felt dizzy. He dropped the phone to the floor and reached for the bed. Sarah grabbed him and helped him down.
'What is it, Jay?'
Jay looked at the man he'd called Uncle Pat since childhood. He'd lost all love and admiration for him in one disgusting phone call. He ground his teeth and clenched his fists. He felt betrayed.
'The Prime Minister and Uncle Pat have cut us loose. We're on our own. No support. Washed their hands of us. Isn't that right, Uncle Pat?'
'Sometimes situations are larger than the individuals involved, Jay.'
Rage burned through Jay. Pat was family in his eyes. Shit, he used to play with Pat's daughter, Tanya, when they were kids. Until Pat's wife took Tanya and walked out on him. Being a spy's wife wasn't all it had been cracked up to be. Jay hadn't seen or heard from his best friend since he was eight years old, a year after his mother had passed away. He had been heartbroken again. Tanya had been like a sister. Took a long time to come to terms with it, including a long period blaming Uncle Pat. But like most things as a kid, he got over it and moved on. Maybe he shouldn't have.
'Bullshit!' he said. 'Forty fucking years of friendship with my father thrown away. How could you?'
'Take it easy, Jay. I haven't given up on either of you. Both of you are very important to me. The PM may have given up and withdrawn any government support, but that doesn't mean shit. My career is coming to an end. The only way I can help you is if the PM thinks I have washed my hands of you. And trust me, I haven't.' He handed Jay an envelope.
Jay removed two credit cards and counted out one thousand dollars cash. He calmed down and started to think more clearly. The Prime Minister had made the decision for him. Fight or flight. Jay chose fight.
'How much on the cards?'
'Ten thousand per card. Both cards untraceable. Pin numbers are the same as your dad's home alarm. At the moment you've only got the Queensland police and military police on your trail. As of midnight tonight, you will have at least one hired killer after you. After 24 hours, you will have every hitman in Australia tracking you down. If that document hits the papers, you'll have every journalist in the country tracking you. Also, the federal police and my own agency will hunt you for releasing Top Secret information. Worse comes to worst, Mossad may want to pay a visit.' He let the information sink in.
'Running will only get you so far, Jay. Someone will find you one day. If you choose to run, your dad won't last long either.'
'Sounds like that option's out.'
'You've got to get that document back and find the person who set up the contracts. That will probably lead to your father. Remember this: none of this will ever see the inside of a courtroom.'
'If we're caught we're on our own,' Sarah said.
'Yes. I've set up a Yahoo mailbox account where we can communicate.' He told them the account details and password. 'Use the draft document feature to type in a message in red font and save it as a draft. I'll check the account every six hours starting at six o'clock tonight. I will reply within the same message in blue font and delete your message. Only leave a message for my help. Keep traffic to a minimum.'
'What about alternate communications?' Jay asked.
'Only via that means. No calls. If that account is compromised I have set up another account.' Pat detailed the second account information and password. 'I will check that account every twelve hours from six o'clock tomorrow morning. Use the same system for writing and receiving messages.'
'Definitely no phones?' Jay asked.
'You know our intercept capabilities. No phones.'
'Where do we go from here?' Sarah asked.
'Not too late for you to get on that plane,' Pat said.
'I'm not running.'
'Thought as much.'
'Weapons?' Jay asked.
'I'm keeping the Glock. On the inside of the envelope, you will find an address. Tell him Ray sent you. I suggest you see him first thing.'
'I suppose we have to go after the document first,' Jay said.
'Makes sense,' Pat said. 'First thing you need to do is cut Bill loose. There is no contract for him and as far as I can tell, the four of us are the only ones who know of his involvement.'
'And whoever told you he was involved,' Jay observed.
'No need to worry there. The final decision will be with Bill. Your dad trusted him and you can fill him in on the details. But if you think he'll be a liability, don't give him an option. Tell him straight.'
'We'll mull it over,' Sarah said.
Pat stood. 'Anything else?'
'Not yet,' Jay said. He walked to the door.
Pat turned and addressed Sarah. 'Can I see you in your room for a moment?'
Sarah frowned slightly and said, 'Sure.'
Pat gave Jay a firm handshake. 'You'll do fine, Jay. Your dad would be proud.'
Jay closed the door behind Pat and put on the kettle. He made a strong coffee and contemplated his next move. Should he go after Primrose straight away or delay the hitmen? One thing was certain: they needed weapons.
The sky had turned grey and a tinge of green indicated a storm heading toward the city. Jay peeled back the curtains and watched the first drops of rain smatter against the windows. The more he thought about the mention of hitmen, the more he wondered how the hell he had ended up in such a situation. He contemplated choices and consequences and thought about some of the choices he had made in Afghanistan and Iraq, and how the right choices had kept him alive. Like the time an uneasy feeling had saved the lives of his team and probably countless more troops in Afghanistan. A source had called for a meet with information he said was urgent and invaluable. Jay knew the source was reliable, but still thoroughly planned and prepared in case he was walking into an ambush. Jay had called ahead just before the meet and arranged for a more secure location. His protection party cleared the meet site and surveillance was maintained until the specified time.
Everything was conducted by the book and subsequent investigations could not find fault with Jay's planning or execution of the operation. When the source walked out of a building to meet the vehicles, Jay knew something was wrong. The source walked with
a different swagger and the smile was far too warm. Jay informed his driver to stay in the vehicle with the engine running while he had a quick chat with the interpreter and the source. When a commotion occurred between another man and the source near the rear of the vehicle, Jay felt immediately uneasy. The yelling and rapid arm waving between the source and the other man lasted less than thirty seconds before the other man turned and hurried away. Jay's interpreter informed him that they had better leave quickly as the man arguing with the source had threatened to tell everybody that the source was a spy for the Australians. Normally, Jay would have taken the source with him and helped him re-locate; at least hand him over for someone else to do it. He was burned as a source and no good to Jay anymore. Leaving him to fend for himself would send a message to other sources that the Australians would leave them high and dry. And besides, leaving him there would be morally wrong.
But something told Jay not to take him. Sixth sense maybe, or the fact that the scene before him just didn't add up. He needed to make a choice. A choice with consequences either way. As the source went to jump in the vehicle, Jay grabbed him and pulled him back. In doing so he felt the explosives hidden beneath the source's jacket. The source stood still, frozen to the spot as he realised Jay knew about the hidden explosives. It was then a race to detonate the charge against Jay's ability to shoot him before he got the chance. The source died from a bullet to the head. A lost chance to be a martyr for the cause. If Jay hadn't stopped the source from getting into the vehicle, he could have been responsible for inviting a suicide bomber onto the operating base.
He finished his coffee as Sarah returned.
'Everything OK between you and Uncle Pat?' he asked.
'Just wanted to give me a lecture on the choice I'm making.'
Jay thought the statement ironic considering his reflections. 'You should go.'
Sarah vigorously shook her head. 'Let's not talk about it again and get on with it,' she said. Then added, 'What about Bill?'
He considered the question. 'I can't involve him any further, but I'll tell him what's going on. I want him to do something for us before we cut him loose.'
'What's that?'
'He's going to witness our last will and testaments.'
'Pardon?'
'First thing we're going to do is write down every single conversation and incident up until today, including the conversation we've just had. Bill will witness them and deliver them to a lawyer. If I go down, I want it on record why.'
'What exactly did the PM say to you?'
Jay recounted their conversation.
'I'll never vote for that bastard again,' she said.
Over the next couple of hours they wrote down all the details in their wills. Once they'd finished, Jay called Bill to the room.
'Everything ready?' Bill asked.
Jay nodded. He and Sarah signed their wills with Bill as a witness.
'I should get going now,' Bill said, folding the documents and placing them in his pocket. 'I'll just slow you down.'
Jay didn't protest.
'Besides, I need to take care of my dogs.'
Sarah drove Bill home in the Monaro and caught a taxi back to the hotel. Jay had changed and was ready to leave when she returned. They didn't check out of the hotel. They carried all their possessions in two backpacks. Jay wore his new suit and had shaved all but a goatee. Sarah was dressed in a suit and wore her hair in a bun. They blended into the crowds of office workers heading home as they ventured off to purchase their weapons.
TWENTY-NINE
The storm left little more than a sprinkle as it skirted the city and headed for the suburbs. The humidity had increased and Jay felt even more uncomfortable in his suit. Pat's directions led to a convenience store two streets from Central train station. Sarah busied herself reading a bus timetable tucked behind a plastic graffiti-covered frame just down from the convenience store entrance.
As per the instructions, Jay walked in and browsed the small selection of music CDs. He noted the balding man with Coke-bottle glasses behind the counter reading a Woman's Day. Business was slow. Despite the air-conditioning, beads of sweat stuck to the man's forehead. The comb-over hairstyle gave Jay an idea of his age. Rolls of body fat hanging over the counter indicated a heart attack waiting to happen. A shirt one size too small allowed a hairy stomach to prop on the counter, no doubt leaving a greasy sweat stain. The thought made Jay cringe. He wondered what lame excuses this one had for being too lazy to keep in shape.
Jay selected a James Blunt CD and moseyed to the counter. 'Do you have any soft metal, mate?'
The man licked an oversized finger and flicked a page. He didn't look up. 'Whatever is over there is what I got.' When Jay didn't move away, the fat man placed the magazine aside, wheezed in a deep breath and looked up.
Jay caught his breath. His nose filled with the unpleasant vapours of a person with a serious hygiene problem. It reminded him of the interrogation rooms after a week-long exercise. He continued with the charade. 'Can you order some in for me? I was told that this is the place to get it.'
'Who told you that?'
'Friend of mine: Ray.'
The man lifted his stomach from the counter by bending back on his stool. He pivoted and pushed up off his perch. He came around the counter, hobbled past Jay and locked the front door. He returned to the counter and picked up the local paper. Even the short waddle to the door increased his wheezing. 'You're lucky they put an old picture on the front page.' He turned the paper toward Jay.
Jay fixed on the picture of himself in dress uniform with the Australian flag draped in the background. His heart skipped a beat. The headline read: 'Hero Turns Villain'.
'Don't believe everything you read in the papers,' he said.
'Not for me to judge. You mustn't be all that bad if the Director sent you. What do you want?'
It had been decided they should stick with weapons they were comfortable with. No point trying out something new. 'Two pistols. Browning and a Glock. One hundred rounds each.'
'That's it?'
'Expecting a bigger order?'
'Suits me. Three hours.'
'That long?'
'You think I keep a collection under the counter?'
Jay ignored the comment. Not much he could do about the timeframe. 'How much?'
'Two K.'
'You're kidding, right?'
'You've got a neon sign flashing over your head that says "I'm wanted". I'm sticking my neck out as it is.'
'I could use a couple of silencers.'
'Two days and an extra K.'
Funny how the price rises when you're a fugitive, Jay mused. It would have to do. The silencers would be handy but they could probably do without them. 'Where's the pick up?'
'I'll meet you at the Rendezvous Hotel in three hours. Have two-and-a-half K in a nice little gift bag. I'll take the other five hundred if you last long enough to pick up the silencers.'
Jay nodded. He hoped the man lasted long enough to deliver the weapons. They were probably under the counter. It would take the fat man three hours to walk one hundred metres up the road to the hotel. He picked up the James Blunt CD and walked towards the door.
'Hey, you gotta pay for that!'
Not with the price you're charging me for the weapons, he thought. 'Put it on my tab.'
Sarah fell in beside him as he walked past the bus stop. They crossed the street and headed for the mall in the centre of the city. Being early evening, youths in jet-black clothing with nose-rings mixed with office workers catching a quiet drink before heading home. Groups of teens with gelled hair slipped in and out of bars for their cigarette fixes. A jazz band at one end of the mall attracted shoppers while buskers at the other end drew a crowd of zoned-out twenty-somethings. A normal Brisbane evening.
They found a tucked-away café, ordered two lattes and sat in the back corner.
'What now?' Sarah asked.
'We need to get a thousand dollars per card out o
f a teller machine for the pistols. The meet is at nine o'clock at the Rendezvous Hotel.'
'Where's that?'
'Across the road from Central station and the Sofitel. I'm figuring we should get a couple of rooms there for the night.'
'We should be hitting the road. The contract commences at midnight.'
'Exactly. You said it yourself. I'm not running. I want to flush the first hitman out and buy us some more time for tomorrow.'
She frowned. 'That's a big call.'
'It's make or break from here on in. And we probably shouldn't be prancing around the city like this, being fugitives and all.'
Their coffees arrived and they drank them in silence, both with an eye on the door. Jay wondered what Sarah was thinking. Wondered why she hadn't left and what Uncle Pat had said to her. Then he wondered again what exactly they were up against. He was distracted by the coffee machine spurting out shots of steam. Both coffees drained, they got up and Jay paid the bill.
They stopped off on their way to the hotel to get the money and a gift bag. At the hotel, they used one of the credit cards to book adjoining rooms with views across to Central station and the side entrance to the Sofitel Hotel. The rooms provided an ideal vantage point to note entrances that a hitman might cover for surveillance. Jay figured there would be no need to cover the main entrance of the hotel. He couldn't imagine a hitman using the front door.
Sarah joined Jay in his room after she had thrown her belongings into hers. She set up her laptop on the small table beside the bed and sat on the two-seater lounge. Jay made himself comfortable on the bed and searched the television news channels.
'We ordering room service?' she asked.
'I figure we should eat up here. Come nine o'clock, I'll go down for the pickup.'
'OK. Over dinner we'll go over escape routes and actions.'
'Good idea. Have you got anything back from those requests for information you put in?'
'No. I've been frozen out.'
'Pardon?'
'I tried my access and they've had it removed. I've checked my phone too and it's been wiped. Call records, messages, contact lists, all gone.'