BEYOND THE SPRING

by Mike S Martin

  *

  “It’s nice to meet you Mr Sousa is there anything you need?”

  David Cameron, the prime minister’s words were timed to coincide with the three guys in suits taking pictures as the flash bulbs lit up the room as they both shook hands. There was no press here for this event, as it was a secret meeting between Presidents Assad’s close advisor and the British Government. The photographers were members of Cameron’s and Assad’s relevant teams documenting events for future evidential reference. The situation was changing every minute in Syria and the British Government were looking for assurances from Assad that things were not going to get out of hand. Cameron’s advisors had a few threats up their sleeves like freezing Assad’s assets that were in British banks but they were prepared to wait to see the outcome of these talks. Intelligence told MI5 and Downing Street that Mustafa Sousa was a sensible man and was determined to persuade Bashar Assad that talking with the western leaders and trying to resolve the escalating violence in the country was the only way. They knew he held the President’s ear and was a good influence on his decisions. Inflicting violence on its own people was not what Mustafa wanted the western world to see. Syria wasn’t like that and as far as he was concerned Bashar wasn’t like that. He was doing his best to bring both Governments to the table to discuss resolutions being instigated by the United Nations and America.

  “Thank you Mr Cameron everything is fine at the moment. Our mutual friend Mr Bashar Assad sends his greetings to you and your government” replied Mustafa as they turned to face the cameras for more photos. As the cameras disappeared Cameron gave Mustafa a friendly pat on the shoulder and whispered into his ear.

  “I’m looking forward to talking later Mr Sousa and hopefully we can resolve some of the issues happening in your great country”

  Mustafa smiled as other people in suits greeted him as he sipped on his glass of iced mint tea. As some of the other guests greeted him, some from the military and some from the United Nations, there seemed to be an element of expectancy. There was a lot of pressure on the western world leaders to get involved and intervene as they did in Libya to stop the slaughter of the innocents. The fact Assad had sent Mustafa was surely a step in the right direction but the situation was putting political pressure on Barrack Obama, David Cameron and their fragile relationships with the Russian and Chinese leaders. If they could bring a peaceful end to the violence or at least get reassurances from the Syrian leaders that things were being done in a positive manner and Assad would accept talks on the direction his country was heading then this would surely help. The cloud of hope filling the room was growing. One of Cameron’s advisors approached the prime minister and waited for a gap in his conversation.

  “Sir in ten minutes we will be moving to the grey room”

  “Yes ok thank you!” replied Cameron nodding and smiling.

  *

  The lab technician watched and waited patiently as the timer on the small fridge ticked down. The red led lights were telling him there was four minutes left before he could take Oliver’s blood samples out. This is when they would be at their optimum state for scrutinising under the microscope. The young lad of about twenty years of age called Simon was out to prove himself and was determined to find the answers Dr Montgomery wanted. He had not long left university and wanted to find what two other technicians couldn’t find. Placing his white laboratory coat on, he stood rubbing the tiredness from his eyes then prepared his table methodically. On the table he placed numerous other samples down, some that had been checked before and others that were new samples of blood. While he waited he carefully studied the microscope, holding his breath each time. His aim was to ascertain what foreign body was flowing through Oliver’s blood system and he was getting nearer and nearer after every experiment and test. The sound of the timer on the fridge bleeping had him taking a deep breath and walking over to it, his heart pounding in the hope of success. With a steady hand he opened the fridge door and removed the samples on glass slides and placed them onto the table. Looking confident he placed the first one under the large microscope and studied it again holding his breath. Removing his eye from the lens he stood up and prepared himself to re-study the slide. Something had caught his attention but he had to make sure his mind wasn’t trying too hard, the veins in his forehead throbbed and then disappeared under his short ginger hair. Opening his eyes wide to re-focus he returned to the lens. Disappointment filled the room as he recognised the same results as before forcing him to remove the slide and carefully pick up the next one. Each one had been treated with different levels of acid and alkali’s and been subjected to different temperatures for various lengths of time. Again he re-focused on the next slide with the same determined look on his face. The silence was deafening apart from his heart beat which suddenly became louder and louder. What the slide was telling this time had him had him once again removing his eye from the lens and taking a deep breath.

  “Holy shit!” he whispered.

  Before taking a second look he grabbed the chart he had produced with almost every possible solution that could be in Oliver’s system on it including everything from things like lead and various other poisonous substances to things such as infections including HIV and Rabies. His finger scrolled down the chart and there, almost matching the sample in front of him was the substance or at least the nearest thing to it. Simon placed his eye back onto the lens and for at least for a whole minute just stared at what was in front of him.

  “How can this be? Surely this can’t be right”

  Scratching his head he grabbed the phone next to him and Dialled Dr Montgomery’s number.

  “Hi it’s Simon in the laboratory and I think I have found what is in the boy’s blood stream…….you need to see this”

  *

  Bostock poured the last remnants of whiskey from the bottle into his glass and knocked it straight back. Checking his tie was straight he then placed a mint in his mouth then proceeded to check his weapon was loaded by taking it out of its holster under his jacket. Happy it was ready to fire he placed it back under his suit and approached the door. On turning the handle and entering the room he was greeted with the sight of David Cameron chatting to one of the Syrians who had accompanied Mustafa Sousa on his trip.

  “Ok Jim we will be moving to the grey room in a while so make sure everything is ready” said Bostock mumbling into his hidden microphone on his suit jacket.

  “Yes no problem I’ve just been told Davis and his boy are on their way so it’s all on schedule”

  “We can’t fuck this up Jim. Heads will roll on this one”

  Jim and the rest of his team waited in the room where Wyre and Oliver were due to arrive. Other guests who were also due to meet and greet Mustafa and Cameron gathered and chatted whilst sipping champagne and wine. This is when Bostock’s men were at their best. If you entered the room at this point you would have found it hard to distinguish between Guests and security. They weren’t stood there with earpieces on glaring at everyone, hands on weapons waiting for something to happen. They were mingling and chatting with the only indication that they might be different being the eyes on constant alert, searching the room. This would be part of Downing Street where Wyre and Oliver would meet Mustafa Sousa and a few other Syrian representatives and be thanked for his work during his stay in the country. As well as Wyre, other British nationals were also being recognised for their various efforts in other troubled countries. It was called the grey room but in actual fact it comprised of three large rooms connected via large open doorways. It could have easily been mistaken for a part of Buckingham palace with its high ornate ceilings and large stone carved archways. This area was always used for social functions due to it being able to accommodate large numbers of guests. Staff wandered through each room with trays filled with drinks and nibbles as guests chatted under large paintings of previous leaders and important politicians. A member of security stood at the door that led from the grey room to the kitchen whe
re the refreshments were being brought from. Everybody who entered and left was being eyeballed by Bostock’s man as he checked as quickly as he could the badges on their suit jackets telling him they had been checked and cleared.

  *

  The driver pulled up at the tradesman’s entrance of Downing Street where numerous members of Bostock’s group were waiting and watching. Wyre searched the faces of each one hoping that Alex Richards might be one of them but he was nowhere to be seen. He held Oliver’s hand tightly as they were searched with a hand held electric scanner. Wyre took a deep breath, before both him and Oliver were led inside. They were now in the enemy’s lair, the lion’s den and Wyre had no idea how all this was going to end as an overwhelming feeling of sickness and dread filled his body. The big question now was had he been selfish in demanding he bring Oliver with him.

  *

  Dr Montgomery pushed the door of the laboratory open to find Simon frantically looking at charts and glancing at samples on the table.

  “What have you found Simon?” asked Montgomery placing his glasses on to also study the slides.

  Simon pointed to the microscope with a look of fear and confusion on his face as the doctor studied the magnified slide.

  “What the hell is that?” said Montgomery now looking at Simon.

  “Sir I’ve double checked everything it can’t be so as to make sure I’m not making a mistake but the results are coming up the same. The thing I don’t understand is and is not clear is what they have mixed it with to stop killing the boy”

  Montgomery studied the slide again then stood upright and rubbed his face nervously.

  “Why would anyone pump that into a boy’s bloodstream it just doesn’t make any sense. He’ll die with that running through his system?” said Simon still studying different slides with various dates on them.

  The doctor seemed to be thinking and working something out in his head before turning to Simon.

  “Whoever has done this to the boy knew what they were doing. It takes an expert to figure this type of procedure out. I’ve seen this on paper but…………………never like this. Jesus Christ!” whispered Montgomery.

  “It takes one hell of a sick expert to do something like this……..who and why that’s the question?” said Simon looking shocked.

  “Oh don’t worry I know who would do something like this…………………I just have to find out why and quick”

  No sooner had the doctor said this he checked the date on the calendar and the time on his watch.

  “Bostock you son of a bitch, you really are one sick bastard!”

  Montgomery took out his mobile phone and dialled Alex’s number. The call went straight to his answering machine and the doctor waited for the end of the message so he could leave his.

  “Alex its Montgomery here, you have to get the boy away from that meeting. You need to get him back to Bristol as soon as possible for a blood transfusion. Alex, Bostock has filled the boy with nitro glycerine. He’s full of explosives.”

  Montgomery ended the call and tried the number straight away once again in the hope Richards might just pick up. There was still no answer so he dialled Wyre’s number on the laboratory phone and handed it to Simon.

  “If it’s his voice mail tell him he needs to get back here ASAP but don’t tell him why. If he answers give it to me” instructed Montgomery.

  “Wait you mean some kid is being used as a weapon…..to blow someone up…..shit!” replied Simon as he waited for the voice mail message to end then followed the Dr’s instructions.

  “Come with me Simon” said Montgomery taking off his white coat and pushing the lab door open.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We have to try and help stop this”

  Chapter 20

  Bashar Assad stood in front of the camera crew that had accompanied him into the mosque. The pictures of him and his aides praying and showing defiance surrounded by handpicked civilian men would be broadcast by Al- Jazeera and relayed across the western television networks. Accompanying him was Mohammed who in the absence of Mustafa was Assad’s chief advisor. Whilst they waited for the part of the Koran that would require them to kneel, Mohammed remained persistent in his request of the president to voice his opinion on the use of chemical weapons to quash the uprising.

  “Sir it will be an expression of power and defiance to our people and the west that we will stand no messing. I will guarantee you the voices will be silent after such an attack”

  “I am listening Mohammed and your argument for such force does have its reasoning but we have to wait for the return of Mustafa who I am sure will bring news of understanding and patience from the west and the continued support from Russia. We need to protect our assets in the western banks so patience is important at the moment. We will continue with the bombardment of the innocents protecting the rebels”

  Bashar glanced at this watch as the darkening desert sky told him the meeting in London would probably be taking place right now. Mohammed hid his snigger from his superior because he knew that his and some of his colleagues, who thought Bashar to be softening under the pressure, would hold the voice in the chamber tomorrow morning as news of Mustafa would have reached the president. Surely then Assad would harden his approach on the uprising and quash the rebels before they could embarrass their country any further.

  *

  “Sorry sir you have to leave your mobile phone and any other electronic devices here” said the guy in a suit at the entrance to the grey room.

  “I don’t have one” replied Wyre confidently as he attempted to walk through the large archway.

  “Sir your phone please!” said the guy more sternly, this time putting his arm out to prevent Wyre and Oliver from proceeding.

  From behind Wyre, another guy in a suit reached around and pulled Wyre’s mobile phone out of his jacket pocket and placed it into the black plastic tray on the table. He then quickly frisked Wyre and indicated that he was free to move on. No sooner had it been placed into the tray, Wyre’s phone flashed into life. He had placed it on silent mode in his pocket but he was now oblivious to the fact somebody was ringing him from the hospital as someone’s ipad was placed over the top of it in the tray.

  Wyre held Oliver close as they cautiously entered the room. Laughing, heated debate and jokes could be heard as they wandered amongst the other guests. Although Wyre looked reasonably calm, inside he was being ripped to shreds, his nerves being stretched to their limits. He assumed he would have seen Richards by now but there was no evidence he was even here. Wyre did not expect him to walk up to him in front of everyone but at least expected some sort of sign from him. Richards had not told Wyre anything so both him and Oliver would remain innocent of any plan Richards had concocted. Wyre just wanted reassurance that he was not alone and he hoped somewhere Alex and Andy knew they had arrived and were aware of what was going on inside the building.

  “Excuse me sir would you like a drink?” said the waiter stood in front of Wyre and Oliver with a tray filled with various drinks.

  “No we’re fine thank you!”

  “Not even a soft drink for the child?”

  “Oliver would you like a drink of squash?” said Wyre bending down.

  It was as though Oliver could sense something negative about where they were and was also nervous as he shook his head while looking down to the floor.

  “It’s ok sir not to worry. If you would like a snack there is a small buffet in the next room or just attract my attention and I can take an order for the kitchen”

  Without really looking at the waiter Wyre nodded and thanked him. He felt slightly better that there was a friendly and innocent person who was just there to do their job. This thought was soon overshadowed by the realisation that somewhere in the room and amongst the guests was the murderer and sick bastard who had killed Susan and tore his family apart. Somewhere mingling amongst the guests and various other leaders and representatives of different countries was the pe
rson who Wyre was desperate to meet but also dreading crossing because he was sure the sight of Ron Bostock would provoke Wyre into doing something in revenge. The way he felt, killing him would probably come easy but Oliver kept Wyre’s thoughts logical. Wyre had not yet met him and could only go by brief descriptions as to what he might look like. As various thoughts crossed his mind, the sight of the British Prime Minister David Cameron entering the room with an Arab looking guy dressed in a suit brought Wyre out of his dark thoughts. Again a sort of reprieve of dark emotions took hold of Wyre before the realisation that Cameron was aware of what Bostock would do to protect him. He watched with an air of disgust and nausea as Cameron met and greeted people with that confident and untouchable attitude that people in his position always have. Never short of an answer and always right even though he never really answers any question he is asked directly. Under different circumstances, maybe a few months ago Wyre would be honoured to be here shaking hands with the prime minister but now the whole situation reeked of lies, deceit and murder. In Wyre’s eyes Cameron was no better than Bostock and it would be only a matter of minutes, maybe seconds before he would be shaking hands with Cameron himself, the puppet of the government advisors.

  “Come on Richards where are you?” whispered Wyre.

  *

  “There’s still nothing” said Simon as Alex’s voice mail kicked in yet again.

  “We have to keep trying” replied Montgomery as he drove towards his home where he knew there might be a way of contacting Richards using a device he had not used in years .On arriving at his house he left Simon in the lounge to keep trying Alex’s phone as he searched through his safe. Pulling out a black leather bag the doctor opened it and removed the item he had been looking for. Simon watched as the doctor placed the thin plastic strip onto the back of his phone.