Frank kissed Sally goodbye, but walking down the drive, stopped abruptly when he saw Ted standing across the road like a statue from a bad dream.
But why was he here? And why was he wearing that god-forsaken overcoat?
It could only mean the worst kind of trouble, but why? It hadn’t been long since they’d said goodbye in Sheverill’s lane, and everything had been okay then.
Shrugging the Bergen from his shoulder, he tossed it away and slipped his hand into the false pocket of the donkey jacket, and taking hold of the pistol, scanned over the field of fire, but all he could see was Ted, who for some crazy reason, seemed to be covering the mini-cab he’d ordered. And there was Rosemary, gardening as usual, and a milkman coming into view along the road, but there was nothing else to be seen.
The blond called up the drive, ‘Taxi for Mr Andrews.’
The young blond’s use of Frank’s working alias let Ted ease the pressure on the trigger, and taking his hands out of the false pockets, let them fall to his side, but Frank kept his hand on the pistol as Ted crossed over and walked up the drive.
‘Ted, what the hell’s going on, you scared the shit out of me.’
‘Sorry, old son, false alarm, but we need to talk.’
Sally watched the two men standing head to head in the drive, their mouths working fast, but Frank suddenly fell silent as he listened to every word Ted was saying.
‘Thanks Ted, I owe you one, but I’ve got to go now, so will you look after Sally?’
‘No problem, I’d like to see her anyway.’
The young blond stood in the early morning light and stared along the quiet avenues of Charlton Kings, and lighting a cigar, noticed his hand had the shake of fear.
He’d worked late into the evening and checked all the nearby hotels, pubs, guesthouses, corner shops and taxis, but all with no success, and then was forced to take an overpriced, grubby room in a local guesthouse.
It was beginning to look as if the Section man had given him the slip, and it was now unlikely he’d be able to locate him before he disappeared into the Executive Section’s anonymous hidey hole in GCHQ, and knowing what had happened to the sleeper in the Chiefs of Staffs office, that wasn’t the news he wanted to take back to his masters.
When the syndicate had woken the sleeper, she’d confirmed their worst nightmares, because the audit of files at the maximum security wing at Thornley Manor had revealed that a file had been violated, and due to the gravity of the situation, the Chiefs of Staff had granted sanction for Immediate Action with hard arrest, no mercy, but for the sleeper it was all over. She had become a danger and was soon eliminated.
Tossing the cigar into the gutter, the blond cursed in frustration, and looking through murderous eyes along the respectable avenues of Charlton Kings, glared at the Mercedes at the kerbside, lashed out and kicked-in the headlight.
So why didn’t that Section bastard obey orders like everyone else?
Flicking glass from his shoe, he checked the time and saw it was a little after eight, so all he had was one last chance with the local post and milkmen, but if he drew a blank with them he knew it would be all over for him.
He shuddered, knowing his own assassin would already have been briefed, and when he or she walked out of the shadows, he would pay the price for failure.
Paying off the driver at GCHQ, Frank shouldered the Bergen, and walking down the curving road towards the twin red and white security barriers, showed his ID to the guard. As he was about to walk on, he saw her frown, and quickly checking over her clipboard, called him back to the office window, and double-checking his ID, picked up the phone.
Dropping the Bergen, he lit a cigarette and watched as she ran her finger along a line on a memo, but as she tapped numbers into the phone, turned away to block his view.
Leaning against the wall, he drew on the cigarette and listened at the window.
‘Hello? Is that Mr Tonabie?’
‘Good morning sir, this is gate security, and we have the gentleman you spoke of.’
‘Yes sir, he’s just arrived. Very good, will do.’
Putting the phone down, she ticked the memo, smiled, and handed back his ID.
‘Would you wait here, sir, it seems you’re to be collected.’
Five minutes later a black Jaguar emerged from within the complex, and as it cruised up to the barrier he saw Mike Frederick driving and Archie O'Neal riding shotgun, and sat in the back was the shadow of his old friend, Monty.
Archie rolled the window down and jerked his head to get in, and walking round, Frank stowed the Bergen in the boot and opened the rear door, but as he got in, Mike Frederick turned, and winking coldly, pulled a sour face and shook his head - the car was bugged.
Frank had made a deal with himself, that regardless of Monty’s condition, he wouldn’t show any expression, but turning and seeing him, his breath almost caught in his throat.
‘Hello Monty. So ... Batman and Robin strike again.’
Monty tried to laugh, but it was more like a rasping wheeze, and when he coughed, his thin body was suddenly contorted with pain, and Frank Lewis wanted to kill someone.
Sally made a fresh pot of coffee as she chattered with Ted about the old days, and carrying the tray through to the lounge, set it down on the table in the bay window. Although it was quite warm in the flat, Ted seemed reluctant to take off his blue overcoat, and when she playfully pulled it open, saw the leather strap, and lying across his chest, the dark, menacing shape of the Luger machine-pistol.
She looked up thoughtfully, ‘Ted, aren’t you supposed to be retired?’
He half-smiled as he spread his hands, but she was looking at him intuitively.
‘Oh, I see. Once in, never out?’
‘More or less. And you, my beautiful young lady, are far too clever.’
She pursed her lips, ‘It’s Frank, isn’t it? He seems to have a lot of problems just now.’
‘Yeah, well it goes with the job, but he hasn’t said anything, has he?’
She glanced up, the guarded tone of his voice suddenly arousing her curiosity.
‘No. But as he’s a member of the Mount Olympus Group, I just wondered …’
She faltered as a look of disbelief widened Ted’s eyes, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Sally, for Christ’s sake. Now look, I know you pick up bits of gossip from the guys, but you can’t go around using names like that, it’s just too bloody dangerous.’
‘Oh, I see. But it’s alright with you, isn’t it?’
‘Well yeah, I guess so, but it’s a hell of a lot safer to use the official name.’
‘Okay, don’t get upset. So he’s a member of the Executive Section, happy now?’
‘Sally, it’s not a question of me getting upset, it’s a question of what Tonabie would do if he heard you talking like that, you’d be history in two minutes.’
Sally realised she’d just made a big mistake, because as far as the men were concerned, she was just their counsellor, their considerate and understanding, obliging whore.
It was the old problem of leading two lives, one for the men, and one for the government, and if these men ever discovered the truth, they’d realise that for all the years they’d been inside her, she’d been inside their minds, stealing their thoughts for Tonabie’s paranoid case history of their psychological profile.
‘Yes, and you’re quite right. I’ll be more careful from now on.’
Sitting quietly in the bay window, it was Sally who broke the awkward silence.
‘We were talking about Frank, but the truth is, I’ve never really understood him.’
Ted sighed, ‘Well he wasn’t dealt a very good hand, if you know what I mean.’
She looked blank, ‘No, I don’t think I do.’
Ted felt uncomfortable, ‘Well to cut a long story short, his mother died in childbirth, and as there was no father, or any other family, he ended up in one of those kids homes, you know, one of those places you read about, where th
e kids get messed around with.’
Sally groaned and looked down to the table.
‘Anyway, this Boys House was run by a Miss Gillpenny, and she had a motto.’
Sally glanced up, ‘A motto?’
‘Yeah, the fist is mightier than the smile, and as Frank was a bit of a hard nut to handle she treated him like a punch bag, so when it comes to women, he gets a bit mixed up.’
‘But that’s horrible, and what does Olympus … Sorry, what does the Section think about it, aren’t they concerned about the psychological danger.’
He stared at her, ‘Are you kidding? Christ, he wouldn’t have got past first appraisal if they knew about this. No, the Boys House was shut down, the people transferred and the paperwork lost, the usual cover up, so don’t go talking about it.’
She nodded, but was thinking of her useless appraisal for Tonabie. Pouring coffee, her housecoat fell open and she noticed him staring, and looking down, saw her breasts and remembered Maggie’s death, ‘So how are things, you know. It’s been a long time.’
He looked away, ‘Yeah, but I’m alright, it’s just a bit difficult sometimes, that’s all.’
‘Yes, I suppose it must be. But ... well ... would it help, I mean, if we went to bed.’
‘Sally.’
‘What’s wrong, we’re friends aren’t we, there’s no harm in it.’
‘But I’m old enough to be your father.’
She laughed, ‘You are funny. So what on earth has age got to do with making love? Oh, come on, it would do you good, and anyway, I’d like to.’
Walking round, she pulled him up and felt him melt away when she kissed him.
‘Come on then, let’s unwind those long years while you tell me lots of lovely secrets.’
Mike Frederick drove the Jaguar across town, then out through Charlton Kings and on towards Oxford, but after a while he steered off the road and came to a halt at the gates of a picnic area, and looking around, Frank saw a rough sign, ‘Closed for repairs’, a battered pickup truck and two hard faced men with shovels.
One of them walked over, checked Mike’s ID and waved back to the other man, and with the truck and sign moved out of the way, they drove inside.
Driving along a tree lined road they came to the open expanse of a leisure area, and Frank thought Christian’s guess was probably correct when he saw three cars already there, and although two of them were empty, in the third was Tonabie with a face like thunder and three other people he didn’t recognise.
There was a tough looking driver, an immaculately dressed, thin hawkish man, and a very attractive woman wearing a chic, grey suit, and she appeared to be unhappy.
As Mike parked the car, Frank saw at least four armed men patrolling the perimeter, and about thirty yards away, two wooden tables had been arranged to face each other.
Frank gave Monty a questioning look, but all he could see was a sad, cynical smile, and looking back, saw Tonabie, the thin man and the attractive woman in grey getting out of their car, and as Frank’s group stepped out onto the gravel, Tonabie gestured coldly to the tables and walked away without a word of greeting.
Frank thought Monty would have trouble walking across a room, let alone thirty yards, so settling him back in the Jaguar, got behind the wheel, skimmed past Tonabie’s group and drove away to the tables.
Mike and Archie grinned as they stood watching, because Frank Lewis was a law unto himself, not that anyone bothered to argue the point.
Parking the car, Frank gently settled Monty at one of the tables, and sitting down, watched Tonabie’s group walk over, their faces even less happy now.
‘Right then, Monty, be quick and tell me what you know.’
Monty coughed, his chest gurgling as he looked down exhausted to the table.
‘I’m sorry, old friend, but the gods have deserted us and Mount Olympus is no more. So all I can say, is prepare yourself for a rather large surprise.’
Tonabie’s group arrived, and without a word, he and the woman sat down at the table while the thin, hawkish man positioned himself to one side of the woman, and he seemed quite content to keep his hands in the pockets of his dark blue overcoat.
Tonabie stared hard at Frank for a moment, his eyes cold and shiny like a dead fish, but when he lifted his briefcase to the table he glanced nervously to the woman in grey, and taking out a file, let it slip while glancing to her again, his fingers twitching.
Frank flashed a questioning look to Monty, because this nervousness was a side to Tonabie he hadn’t seen before, and the more he watched him, the more it became obvious that he wasn’t just on edge with this woman, he was almost terrified.
So it begged the question, just who the hell was she?
Well she was obviously from the hierarchy, so something pretty damned important must have happened to make this city woman leave her executive office and travel way out here to sit down at a picnic table in the middle of nowhere, and as she began tapping her shiny manicured fingernails, more and more impatiently on the table, Frank found himself studying her even more closely.
He guessed her age to be early forties, and her body language suggested an attitude of intolerant aggression, but at the same time there was a certain self-possessed serenity, and although it could seem that her patience with Tonabie might explode at any moment, it could also appear that she was actually enjoying his discomfort.
It was strange, everything about her seemed to be in conflict with itself; it was as though she were two people at the same time and a contradiction of herself.
At first glance her hair seemed light auburn, but flecks of dark flame also caught the eye, and although she wore it demurely, the stepping waves of hair fell down almost sensually, and within this frame of ever changing colour was a face that could change with every trick of the light as it fell on delicately shaped contours of cheekbones, nose and chin, and this was made all the more fascinating by hypnotic eyes of deep liquid brown and an erotic mouth of full red lips.
He remembered that when she’d walked to the tables, she’d carried herself with such an indifferent confidence it was as if she’d found the whole affair to be an utter bore, and yet, at the same time she’d chosen to wear a figure hugging suit and cobalt-blue, high heeled shoes that displayed the curves of her shapely legs in a wanton vision of sexuality.
Tonabie sat up straight, and clearing his throat, shuffled his papers into order.
‘Mr Lewis, I see no point in stating the obvious, except to say your failure to attend yesterday, as ordered, shows a continuing trend of insolence and lack of respect I will not tolerate, if not to mention the acute and personal embarrassment it caused to myself in having to inform the Chiefs of Staff we were unable to proceed on time with the highly sensitive matter in hand.’
Frank stared back, and thought, The bald, arrogant little fart hasn't changed at all.
‘Well, Mr Lewis? Have you nothing to say? No explanation? No apolo …’
The lady in grey had looked briefly into Frank’s eyes, and reaching over, placed her hand onto Tonabie’s file and silenced him.
‘Gentlemen. Time is of the essence. So shall we proceed?’
Tonabie sat red faced, his composure now scattered, ‘Yes, of course ma’am.’
‘Well for god’s sake get on with it.’
He flustered, his hands now shaking as he flicked through the pages of the file.
‘Now then, let me see …’
Selecting two forms, he checked them carefully and slid one back into the folder.
‘Here we are. Jolly good.’
He thrust the remaining form out towards Frank.
‘As you will see, Mr Lewis, as of this date you no longer work for Mount Olympus, therefore, please sign at the bottom.’
Frank looked at the form held out in Tonabie’s feminine hand, but ignored it.
‘Mr Lewis, may I remind you, your contract does not permit a choice.’
Frank sat for a moment, then took the form and signed where
it said ‘Operative’.
‘Splendid, and now I require your Section ID card.’
He tossed it over, then Tonabie added his own signature and locked it in his case.
‘Phase one is now complete, ma’am. So you may proceed if you wish.’
The woman cast her gaze despairingly to the sky, ‘Very well. Goodbye’
Staring as if trying to understand, he suddenly burst into life like a clockwork toy.
‘Yes, of course, ma’am. So I shall wish you, au revoir.’
The lady in grey looked down to her fingernails, ‘I doubt it, Mr Tonabie.’
Tonabie walked away, his delicate hand flying up and down in a never ending dance as his ridiculous wig was lifted with every snatch of the breeze.
The lady in grey, watched, and with a long sigh, lifted her own case to the table. ‘Unfortunately, Mr Lewis, I’m afraid there’s yet another form for you to sign.’
She handed it out to him, ‘Place your signature at the bottom, if you please.’
Frank looked at the form, and knew what it would be, another EX 1.
The official secondment form that had taken him out of the Section and into the wastelands of Afghanistan, the same form that had taken Robin Sheverill out of the Section and on a one way trip down the Rhine.
Leaving her to hold the form out in mid-air, he wondered what level of authority she carried, and if he had to make a guess, she would be a senior management, projects designer from the CoS, Planning Office, but unlike Tonabie, she was holding the form perfectly still as she looked back from clear, calculating eyes.
‘Mr Lewis. I have to inform you, although I surmise it to be quite unnecessary, that just as that idiot Tonabie has said, the terms of your contract are non-negotiable, so you are therefore not permitted a choice in the matter of secondment. Unless of course you wish to resign, and take your chances ..?’
She spoke dispassionately, like a loaded gun, her words carrying their death sentence, and now this woman would lead him down an inescapable route, and most likely, straight into the murky world of Cardinal.
Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) Page 6