“Do go on,” Cade offered, tired but genuinely interested.
“During ‘negotiations’ she will convince her newfound friend that monetary aid might be forthcoming a little quicker and with fewer questions asked if the agent was issued with a diplomatic passport. During pillow talk she’ll be explaining that a DP would allow the sponsor to travel and negotiate freely and as a result everyone will benefit.”
“And that’s it? You get a hot Bulgarian to sleep her way around the UN in exchange for some dodgy passports and the man at the top becomes wealthier than half of Monaco? I’m missing something.”
“Indeed, you are dear boy. The passports are genuine, but the diplomats are not. The issuing authority turns a blind eye to this practice as they think they are likely to benefit. It could be personally or in some cases nationally. An example would be a small power station complex that was offered by two American businessmen recently. They convinced the government of a Pacific Island nation that they could build them a great little power plant, incidentally one which was funded by the Chinese. All they needed was two shiny new DPs and before you knew it the island would be literally buzzing.”
“And?”
“And of course it didn’t happen. The two managed to launder money through the island and got away before the good folk of Paradise Lost realised that they had also emptied half of their Treasury.”
“So these folk literally take on the persona of diplomats? But surely a white man can’t assume the role of an official from a predominantly black country?”
“Bang on. So, what they do is choose carefully. Those countries that have a history of British, Spanish or French colonisation often provide greater opportunities. Before you can say bonjour, plain old John Brown can be anything from an ambassador to a minister, a minister-counselor, a counselor, first secretary, second secretary, third secretary, attaché, and assistant attaché.”
“As she said, simple.”
“Absolutely. All the while there are gullible nations there will be vultures waiting to pounce. Now, hang onto your hat because the best bit is yet to come.”
“I’m hanging Terrence.”
“You’ve heard of diplomatic bags? Well, they don’t just have to be old-fashioned satchels with a few secret envelopes in. Oh no, they can be anything up to and including a container. Now can you see how having a DP might be beneficial? Once your lovely little flower in that interview room got the DP then she just had to ensure that the new holder got a Diplomatic ID card too and they would be up, up and away!”
“You say a container? Surely customs would search them now and then, even randomly?”
Barker laughed before adding, “Jack, they are exempt from being opened or searched and as such criminal organisations can work across borders without fear of their ill-gotten gains being seized as proceeds of crime. And of course, when the going gets tough…”
“Don’t tell me, the tough get going?”
“No, not all JC the shiny new diplomat claims diplomatic immunity – even if he’s fake. There are examples of it happening across Europe. Only recently a police officer in Brussels stopped someone with a false diplomatic ID card. The officer was so unsure what to do, he let him go. Even though the diplomat was drunk and had just crashed a car.”
The story she had told Cade earlier about the Mercedes now had even more credibility.
“It’s almost the perfect crime, Jack, and if your girl in there knows half of what I think she does, then we had better hang onto her a while longer. You bed her down for the night; I’ll go and process the claim papers.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cade had finally got home, hit the pillow and didn’t remember a thing until his alarm dragged him kicking and screaming into the shower. As he had stood and shaved, he looked at himself in the mirror and spoke.
“What a long day, Jack, old son, but boy, what a day? I reckon I could get to enjoy this border stuff!”
And with that, he rinsed the last of the shaving gel from his face and drew a detailed female form in the condensation. As he showered the outline disappeared, but the memories of the previous day didn’t. She had captured his mind, if not yet his heart.
He had arrived at the airport, parked up and walked into the station to find Steve Hazard recounting the story to the night shift who were having an end of shift chat with the early shift over a cup of tea.
“Morning Double O – you joining us?” asked an ebullient Hazard.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Hazard introduced Cade to the night shift, who seemed like a tight bunch, run by a youthful-looking sergeant called Marty Halford.
Halford spoke for the section, “Steve tells me you did a cracking job yesterday Jack, good to have you on board. We don’t often have pursuits, guns and helicopters, so let’s hope this is the start of some action.”
“Thanks Marty, to be honest, I thought it was like that every day. Hot Bulgarians, car chases, stolen goods, Interpol…”
“Too right mate – anyway your girlfriend has been asking for you. She’s over in the Detention Centre. Best get your hair done and saunter over there!”
He finished his tea and walked through the terminal, catching a glimpse of himself in the window of the WH Smiths’ store; inadvertently he brushed his hair back and then started smiling.
“Easy tiger, she’d have you for breakfast!” It was Terry Barker.
“Morning Terry, thanks for yesterday, I really appreciated the support and your knowledge.”
“My pleasure entirely, I’ll tell you what, it’s rare to come up against a story as good as hers. Looks as though she’s going to be landed anyway – for now at least. Yarl’s Wood Immigration Centre has been damaged by fire so there may not be enough room for her. She’ll have to head there until we hear differently.”
“I know it well. Got a bit of a bad reputation at the moment?”
“You could say that. Some reckon it’s why the inmates tried to burn it down.”
Cade nodded and walked off to find his prisoner.
“Good morning, Nikolina. Long day yesterday, you ready for something to eat?”
She had her head down in her lap, her chin resting on the backs of her hands.
“I am, yes. I did not sleep. I kept having a dream that you shot me in that cornfield. I was scared, but not as scared as I was in Spain. Hey, even if you had shot me, I wouldn’t have been as scared.” She smiled a weary smile and ran her fingers through her matted hair.
“Would you like a shower?” He asked innocently.
“Won’t your bosses be angry if they find us?” she asked, less naively.
It raised a smile and another warning flag.
“I’ll get one of the staff to take you whilst I get some breakfast organised. We really need to finish our talk from last night.”
Fifteen minutes later, he re-joined her in a day room at the airport. She was wearing fresh clothes and looked a thousand percent better. Whilst she wore no makeup, she still looked attractive – actually, more so.
Cade provided her with toast, some cereals and a cup of coffee.
She devoured it, drained the coffee mug and looked up.
“OK, let’s go. What else do you want to know?”
“Is that all it takes for you to spill state secrets? I’ll have to remember that for next time.” Cade offered this as an ice-breaker, but soon found himself embroiled in a mind game once more.
“State secrets? You think I give up my country’s secrets for a piece of cold toast and a colder shower?”
She threw the dish at the wall. It clattered to the floor and spun on its base, slowly coming to a halt. The room was now silent.
He looked at her and asked, “Finished?”
She pursed her lips and replied, “Yes, sorry, not necessary, you have been kind to me. I am still tired. Look, I tell you everything you want to know about Alex and his team but do not ask me about my country. OK?”
“OK. I am also sorry. Now, giv
e me an example of how Alex used one of the passports and IDs that you obtained.”
“Easy. He got one for Equatorial Guinea. It is the only African country which officially uses Spanish as their first language. He speaks Spanish, and to some people, looks Spanish. In 1995 an American company discovered oil and it became quite wealthy. Sadly, the money didn’t get to the poorer people, some of whom didn’t even have good drinking water. Jack, twenty percent of children die before they get to five…”
“Go on Nikolina please.”
“Well, he found out that with a passport he could operate as an Attaché. He promised the government that he could get them some investors from America to help them build a new hospital and sort out their water problems. The President agreed as he thought it would help his popularity. Alex was given twenty thousand Euro to travel to America and complete the negotiations.”
“So, what happened?”
“We went to Vanuatu instead. It is in the Pacific. We lived there for a few weeks; he used the passport to convince people that we were there to offer investment opportunities…”
“Don’t tell me they were fooled too?”
“Yes, Jack, they were. We lived like a king and queen, the best restaurants, a beautiful villa near the Emtem Lagoon. In the day, he did business meetings while I lay by the pool, and at night, we met up with more business people. I had never seen so much money Jack, and money can buy anything, even I was for sale.”
“So, what do you think he was doing whilst you lounged by the pool in your bathing suit?”
“Bikini.”
“Whatever. What do you think he was up to?”
“He met with men, I think some were gang people from Australia, some were from China – Triad I think, he had the tattoo anyway. And even a man from Tahiti – he was there to launder money but pretended to be selling black pearls.”
“OK, the Chinese, tell me more about them.”
“What do you want to know? They were well dressed, all had English names but spoke Mandarin to each other. Some had triangle tattoos, most were strong-looking but all had money. They talked to Alex about moving counterfeit clothing through Romania into mainland Europe. There was nothing he wasn’t willing to get involved in Jack. The Australian men wanted him to arrange for females to move drug stuff from Europe into Australia.”
“Stuff?” enquired Cade.
“Yes, stuff to make drugs with.”
“Pre-cursors? Pseudo ephedrine? Contac?”
“Yes, pseudo. They wanted to make a lot of money with drugs but didn’t want their men to get involved. Alex told them that for thirty percent he could arrange pretty girls to move the stuff from Europe straight into the main Australian cities. They also asked him to send pre-cursors from Holland by using the mail system. Hundreds of boxes were sent one month, hoping that some would get through.”
Whilst he had formed the opinion that there was nothing that Stefanescu wouldn’t get involved in he asked out of idle curiosity.
“Tell me, Nikolina, is there anything he wouldn’t do?”
“Children.”
Her response was quick, decisive.
“What do you mean, children?”
“He wouldn’t harm children or make them do things. He loves children. We have a daughter; he would protect her with his life. He would kill me first.”
“Where is your daughter?”
“Safe.”
“Good, but I asked where she is.”
“And I told you, safe.” It was clear this was one area that was off limits so he decided not to push further but added, “OK, but if she needs help and you can get a message to her tell her I’m always willing to offer aid. OK?”
“OK, thank you.”
“Right, tell me more about the passports. Could I get one if I wanted to?”
“If you offered to sleep with me, then yes.”
Cade offered a puzzled look in response. As attractive as he found her, he wasn’t sure where this was heading. The thought of having this girl in the station shower passed through his mind, but he physically shook his head to rid the image. But I kept playing back.
“Concentrate, Jack,” he said out loud.
“I am sorry, were you talking to me? She replied, bemused.
“Sorry, I was talking out aloud. Now, where were we? Oh yes, I was asking you to sleep with me so that I could get a false passport.”
“No, I was asking you to sleep with me silly. It is the other way around. You are the diplomat – you don’t need the passport, I do. Look, shall we just do it here, right now on the table?” She pushed it, indicating that it would hold their weight.
“My God, you are insatiable, I’d lose my job.”
“Of course, but imagine the fun. And anyway, at least now I know you would consider it.” She threw her head back and laughed.
Cade just sat and shook his head. He’d been played like the legendary Kingfish: Hook, Line and sinker.
He recovered quickly but was now partly stirred, partly curious and ever so slightly unsure where to turn next. It was time for the ace to appear from his sleeve.
“So, you are an internationally trained government employee who has slept her way around Europe and is willing to trade secrets for asylum – for safety. What would it take for you to work for me?”
He was pushing the boundaries and didn’t even know if he could, or should, but he pushed anyway. The UK government was starting to take an interest in Eastern Europe and how a small but effective percentage of its people were impacting on their financial end state.
She was now the one with a bemused look.
“You think I am slut, but you want me to be a spy for Britain? I am good enough for that then?”
“No, Britain does not have spies. I want you to become my human source. You will have to go to an Immigration Centre for now but I will try to get you out, try to get you a temporary visa until the government can decide what to do with you. But you have my word you will be safe. Do we have a deal?”
“What about my daughter?”
“Yes, her too, but only if we can. Look, I give you my word that I will watch over her the best I can and if she ever gets in trouble, you can send her to me wherever I am. But in order to do that…”
It was all a little too eager on his part and he felt deep down inside that whilst what he was doing was morally right; he was likely to get his arse severely kicked by someone further up the food chain.
“Mr Cade, in order to do that I have to betray her whereabouts, and trust you as I do…”
“It’s OK. The offer remains.”
There was a light knock on the door. Cade turned and saw Barker looking through the plexiglass window, tapping at his Seiko.
“It’s time, Jack.”
He turned to Nikolina and said, “You have to go now. But I will come and see you as soon as I can. Then we will start to plan your new life. Trust me?” It was a statement rather than a question, but she answered, anyway.
“Like I trusted my own father.” She held out her hand. He took it and shook it warmly.
Cade turned and began to walk out of the room. She had a look on her face, as if there was more that she wanted to tell him. In for a penny.
“Miss, is there anything else?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m not sure. Call it male intuition.”
“Then your instinct treats you well. Yes, there is something else. But I need to keep it…safe, for now. I have something. Next time we meet, I’ll tell you.”
It was a test. He knew it, she knew it.
“Then so be it. Until next time Nikolina, and be assured, there will be a next time. Look after yourself.”
He exited the room and allowed his Immigration colleagues to take over.
“Precious cargo, OK?”
Barker nodded as he was joined by two Border Agency staff. They took her and a Nigerian woman to a nearby prison van, loaded them into it as Cade stood and watched it head off towards Yarl
’s Wood.
He knew it was an unpleasant place, but he also knew she was a very resilient woman.
She’d be fine.
Chapter 23
The next day Cade was called into Eddie Curtain’s office.
“You wanted to see me sir?” he enquired, hovering just outside the door, hand above head height, leaning against the woodwork.
Curtain was on the phone but covered the mouthpiece long enough to offer an instruction.
“Come in Jack and shut the door.”
He did and sat in the chair that the charismatic senior officer pointed to.
“Right Mary love I must go, one of the lads has just arrived and I’m about to use bad language, certainly not for a lady to hear so I’ll see you tonight; don’t forget to get the chicken out of the freezer.”
Cade was ready for a royal dressing down.
“Fuck me Jack, you’ve been here a few days and already you’ve had air support involved, guns, bloody dead people on Leicestershire’s patch, pursuits involving members of the public, a crash, some horny Hungarian trying it on with you and to cap it all I’ve got a bill for nine hundred bastard quid for a replacement hay barn. What are your plans for the rest of the bloody week?”
“Boss…”
Curtain raised his hand.
“Don’t say a word, I haven’t finished. I’ve had the friggin’ immigration minister on the phone twenty-four-bastard-seven, bendin’ me ear, I’ve had Stu Green from Leicestershire bendin’ the other bastard for shootin’ up half ‘is county…Christ, Jack, what next? Tom said you were good, but I didn’t expect Miami pissin’ Vice!”
Cade started to speak, “To be fair, boss…”
Curtain threw another hand up in protest.
“‘To be fair’ my arsehole, sergeant! You’ve broken just about every bloody rule we’ve got, and some. You’ve broken rules that not even I broke back in the seventies. The Daily Mail has been on the blower asking why a ginger DJ was heading up the fastest pursuit the M1 has seen since the Kray twins headed north. The Home Office wants to know why there’s a dead Romanian lying in a Merc under two ton of friggin’ straw and to add the bloody cherry on top of me bastard birthday cake Woman’s Day want an interview with your mysterious ginger Hungarian hooker. Christ!”
Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1) Page 33