Sterling

by Robert Cameron

  It wasn’t long before Cam became aware of sirens in the background. They were hard to hear against the natural noise of the city, but they were most definitely there. To add to the noise, an alarm went off in the arcade behind him. Cam spun around and looked into the arcade but saw very little activity. Feeling nervous he started to cross the road away from the arcade that was now attracting the attention of the passers-by. Before he could cross to safety, a police car came screaming round the corner and headed right toward Cam, who was now standing in the middle of the road. Conspicuous in that position, he remained motionless as the officers threw open their car doors and hurriedly moved toward him. Cam fought the urge to run as the officers ordered him to stand still.

  ‘Sir, can I ask you what you’re doing here?’ asked one of the police officers.

  ‘I was just walking by and the alarm went off. Nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Sir, we have a report of someone matching your description trying to break in to the premises. Do you have anything to say about why that would be?’

  ‘No, like I said I was just passing.’

  ‘OK Sir; please step over to the vehicle.’

  ‘Wait, I’ve done nothing here. You can’t just arrest me with no reason,’ protested Cam.

  ‘I said nothing about arresting you did I, Sir? Please move over to the car. Barry, can you check out the building and try to turn off the alarm.’ The younger of the two officers jogged off towards the casino’s doorway.

  The officer opened the rear doors to the patrol car and motioned Cam inside. He sat down on the edge of the seat leaving his legs outside the car. The policeman seemed distracted; he pressed his earpiece deeper into his ear and struggled to listen to the messages being passed to him. More sirens approached and Cam began to feel that he had been set up. The officer started to look around as if trying to make sense of the messy information streaming into his ear. Then, as if he finally pieced all the parts together he turned and stared at his suspect. Cam knew something was wrong. He had to get out of there. More police were on the way; he had to get away now before it was too late.

  Cam forced himself to his feet as the officer reached towards him in an attempt to push him back into the car. Cam swiped the policeman’s hand away but he was too strong. The officer was almost a full foot taller than Cam and he was fast with it. He gripped Cam’s wrist. Cam knew he was about to be put into a hold he could not get out of. That was how police were trained and they were good at it. Cam had to act fast if he was going to escape.

  He snatched at the officer’s radio attached to his luminous body armour. He twisted it into an inverted position and released it from its housing. With a flick he threw the radio as far down the street as he could, ripping out the earpiece wire. The officer immediately relaxed his grip and turned to chase his radio. Cam knew he would – those airwave radios were the same as the ones he used in the ambulance service. They were always told, ‘break it – but don’t lose it!’ The officer would rather let his suspect go than face the paperwork generated by loosing his secure radio.

  Cam ran for his freedom. He had no idea what was going on but he was sure he was being used as a decoy. It was a setup. At the end of the street he could see more police cars approaching. He disappeared into a side street. More cars sped past the entrance onto the other street casting blue flashing lights that bounced down the narrow alley. Once they had passed out of sight Cam ran across the road. He went from side street to side street, trying to get as far away from his pursuers as possible. Back and forth he went, dodging the ever-increasing police presence, but as the police cordon began to take shape Cam found himself stuck. He could not get out. He spotted a telephone box on the inside corner of the alley he found himself in. He picked up the receiver and made a call he never thought he would.

  * * * * * * *

  ‘999 emergency, which service do you require?’ said the female voice on the other end of the phone.

  ‘I need an ambulance on Rutland Court Lane, Edinburgh. I’ve found a man on the ground he’s clutching his chest in pain. I think he’s having a heart attack.’

  ‘How old is the gentleman?’

  ‘He’s mid-thirties, come quick.’ Cam hung up before the call-handler could ask any more questions. All he could do now was wait.

  Cam hid in the shadows of the alley, hoping the police would let the ambulance through the cordon. After a long fifteen minutes hiding from passing police cars, he saw an ambulance pull up at the entrance to the alley.

  It was time to get down on the ground. The two ambulance-crew jumped out of the vehicle and started running towards him.

  ‘Hello there, what do we call you then?’ asked one of the crew.

  ‘Tom.’

  ‘Hello, Tom, my name’s Craig, and this is Colin,’ the paramedic said, motioning towards his colleague. ‘Can you tell me what’s happened?’

  ‘I was walking back home and had this pain in my chest. I can’t walk any more and I can hardly breathe. Some guy found me and called for you,’ said Cam, acting breathless and writhing in fake agony.

  ‘Can you describe the pain you’re in?’ said the paramedic. Cam proceeded to describe the perfect heart attack, straight out of a textbook.

  The crew wasted no time in getting Cam into the back of the ambulance. Once inside, the crew hurried around, hooking him up to an array of monitors. He was given an aspirin and a tablet called GTN. Cam had expected all this and he knew it would do him no harm. The technician asked him his age and then waited for the monitor on the wall of the ambulance to print off a heart tracing.

  ‘Looks normal,’ the paramedic said, handing it to the technician for a second opinion. ‘Are you still in pain, Tom?’

  ‘Yes, feels like something is crushing me.’

  ‘I think we had better get going,’ the paramedic said to his crew-mate. ‘I’ll stay in the back in case we have to give any pain relief.’ The technician climbed out the back of the ambulance, got into the front seat and prepared to move off. ‘If you had to give the pain a score between one and ten, ten being the worst pain you have ever felt, where would it be?’

  ‘Nine or ten,’ Cam said.

  ‘Would you like anything for that pain?’

  ‘No, I can handle it.’

  ‘OK, but if you change your mind let me know. I would, however, like to pop a little needle into your arm, would that be OK?’

  ‘Do what ever you got to do,’ Cam said.

  As the ambulance wove its way through the streets of Edinburgh the paramedic inserted a cannula into Cam’s arm. He knew exactly what was going through the paramedic’s mind. His patient, Tom, was mid-thirties with central crushing chest-pain, radiating down his left arm and up into his jaw and teeth. His heart-tracing was normal, however, you can be having a heart attack and it not show on the tracing. This would stop the paramedic administering thrombolytic drugs. Cam would not want those.

  He started to relax a little as he realised that they must be well out of the police cordon. Soon he would be at the hospital and he could simply walk out when he got the opportunity. The paramedic asked him questions throughout the journey and was filling out his paper work when they reversed into the Accident and Emergency department of The Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh.

  Cam was wheeled into the ward and the crew handed him over to hospital staff. The crew wished him all the best and were off to their next job. Cam watched them go and started to wish he could go back to his old life – back to his old station and the tranquil Lake District. Instead he found himself in an A&E department on a bed in a ward surrounded by drunks and drug addicts, pretending to be having a heart attack.

  Doctors and nurses swarmed around him.

  ‘Hello Tom,’ said one of the nurses. ‘I’m just trying to book you in and the details you gave to the ambulance crew aren’t being recognised by our
computers. Either they’re wrong or you don’t exist.’ ‘This is going too far,’ thought Cam. He had to leave. Just as they started to undress him he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sprung to his feet. He pushed through all the hospital staff who tried to stop him. Cam knew they had no power to detain him and he fought his way to the exit and ran off, with the shouts of the nurses ringing behind him.

  * * * * * * *

  Cam arrived back at his place a few hours later. It was a long walk from the hospital, but it gave him time to think. He had no idea what the hell had just happened, except that he had been used as some sort of distraction. He wondered if he would ever see that Irish guy again.

  For the first time in weeks his head felt clear; it felt good. He knew it was the result of too much drinking and self-neglect. The events of the past day had shown him that. Safe at home with the door locked he began to contemplate what was going on in his life.

  Chapter 20

  Over the next few months Cam spent his days running, eating and resting. He felt his body recovering and strengthening, his tissues repairing themselves, through alternating periods of activity and rest.

  He found many good runs around the city, surrounded as it was by the Pentland Hills and bounded by the coast at Leith. He was surprised to find so many rural areas. His favourite run was to make his way into Holyrood Park. The park was usually quiet and nobody stared at you as you ran past like they did in city streets. From there he could make his way up Arthur’s Seat and look out over the landscape. Arthur’s Seat, the main feature of Holyrood Park, had the best panoramic views of Edinburgh. Although only a relatively small hill, he could do shuttle runs up and down the steepest parts of the extinct volcano.

  He could feel himself getting fitter and fitter. He almost felt he was getting back to his old self. The eyes that stared back at him were bright and clear; no longer red and bloodshot. He knew he would never get to the same level he was at when he was with the troop; after all he was a lot younger then. But he could try.

  If he fancied a shorter run he would go out to Calton Hill or the Royal Botanic Gardens. Every day he could feel the weather changing, the smell of summer in the trees and grass. Everything was turning green and looked alive. This was a beautiful city.

  To fill his nights and whenever he was free during the day, he had volunteered as a Community First Responder. These people responded to emergencies and could usually get to incidents before an ambulance, as they were already embedded in the community. He had been made to do the entire responder course as he wanted to remain known as Cam Sterling not Robert. He was nervous about the CRB check bringing up something to do with Al, but it came back OK.

  The Scottish Ambulance Service was efficient but constantly run off its feet trying to cover the whole city, so Cam had responded to many incidents and was gaining more experience as a solo responder. Although he was only allowed to do what was in the Community First Responder scope of practice, he still used all the skills he had to help the people he went to.

  He was fully occupied and was starting to enjoy his new life in Edinburgh; he felt good and was controlling his drinking – a responder couldn’t turn up stinking of whisky.

  Now that summer had well and truly arrived, he would usually be found, if not running up Arthur’s Seat, sitting on one of the benches in Princes Street Gardens, where he would sit and watch the world go by. It was better than staring out of his window. He would look over at the Burger King from where his undercover exercises were conducted. Or over toward the HMV shop where he would buy his Xbox games that he would sit and play, still waiting to respond.

  He would also walk through the park, feeling the warm sun on his face, towards Scott Monument. The park was full of people walking around with ice creams or hot dogs. Students littered the park, lying around on blankets, reading or chatting.

  He would climb the steps past the monument – the gardeners had done a great job with the flower beds that year – and walk past the train station on his left. He remembered his initial Army selection course all those years ago. He could picture himself standing with the young scared teenagers gathered outside the station on most days. Looking back he would never had imagined where it would take him.

  Cam liked climbing the steep street towards the castle. He would pass all the tourists going in and out of the souvenir shops. Cam liked playing a game with himself, guessing where the tourists came from. Who were the ones with the ‘I love Edinburgh’ hats or t-shirts on? Or with at least two cameras strung round their neck.

  While wandering round the castle he would visit all the rooms and look at the jewels and weaponry. Some of the swords and axes were huge; the men who wielded them must have been massive. He also would try to figure out if there really was a secret tunnel that led out of the castle. Supposedly there was one that led to the queen’s palace, a mile away.

  Then he would normally rest, leaning on one of the cannons overlooking the city, and enjoy the views. It was there one day, months after he had arrived in Edinburgh, that he heard the phone ring in his trouser pocket.

  * * * * * * *

  Cam stared at the screen as the phone vibrated in his hand. He should answer it, but something was stopping him. He was happy with his new life; he was left alone and was comfortable. He didn’t want it to change – but to keep his new life he would have to pay for it.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, after touching the screen and sliding the ‘accept call’ tab to the bottom of the phone.

  ‘Good morning.’ The voice was Al’s – at least he thought it was – it had been such a long time since they had last talked. ‘We have a task for you. You do not have free actions; you must follow the instructions that are to follow. Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied.

  ‘Good luck.’

  With that, the phone buzzed once again. An email had arrived. Within the email he found some very brief instructions.

  Possible terror act in progress. Proceed to undercover police hub, address to follow. You are to follow strict instructions. Ongoing intelligence updates. Concealed, silenced weapons only. More to follow.

  After closing the email he lowered the phone. He knew he probably didn’t have time to hang around. He had to get moving. He raised the phone as if expecting more information apart from the little he had just received. A quick glance at the screen showed something odd – something slightly different from normal.

  The GPS location app had been activated. Cam always had it disabled as it drained the battery. Someone had activated it remotely. ‘I’m being tracked.’ He looked up, trying to see through the clouds. After a few seconds he thought to himself, ‘What am I doing? If they are watching they must be having a right laugh.’ He looked down and glanced around to see if he had initiated any of the gullible tourists into wondering what he was looking at. But nobody was paying him the slightest bit of attention.

  It took him less than twenty minutes to get home. He was sweating as he opened his front door. As he made his way towards his weapon cupboard he saw his phone-charger plugged into the wall near the sofa. On the spur of the moment he inserted the charger and flicked on the power.

  He grabbed his silenced pistol that had seemed to have been left in his store for weeks now. He had become much less paranoid since he had pulled himself together. He took extra empty magazines and a few boxes of 9 mm ammunition, along with a shoulder style holster that was beside the spare magazines.

  Now back in the living space, he knelt down next to his phone, waiting for more information and watching it charge. He loaded the magazines, placing them neatly in the shoulder-holster. The phone vibrated on the floor as he slipped the last magazine into the holster. It was another email.

  All it contained was the address of a police hub. It wasn’t far away and it would not take long to get there. He left the phone on the floor next to his weapon an
d ammunition and went to change his clothes. He chose plain-looking trousers and a loose grey hooded top in which he could comfortably hide the pistol and extra ammunition. The phone was almost fully charged, but he had run out of time. He pulled the charger from the phone and placed it in his pocket. With the weaponry concealed tightly around his body, he left his house and made his way through the streets of Edinburgh towards the police hub.

  The address that had been given to him turned out to be a large semidetached house on the corner of the road. There were cars and vans parked all over the street and a plain-clothed police officer hanging around the entrance. As he approached the large house he received another email.

  Enter the hub; tell the guard you are the MI5 observer. There will be a mission briefing in the basement. Keep a low profile talk to no one. Listen to what is going on, take no notes. More to follow.

  He walked confidently towards the police officer who had been given the guard duty. He was obviously disgruntled about being given this responsibility. He would probably prefer to be part of the action.

  ‘Hello mate, I’m the MI5 observer,’ Cam said as the officer blocked off the door when he got closer. The police officer nodded his head as he looked him up and down. He moved out of the way and Cam entered the house.

  The basement turned out to be a makeshift gymnasium. The room was big – the size of the whole house, maybe more. Amongst the gym equipment undercover police mixed with uniformed officers. Cam placed himself in the corner with a good view of the low stage area.

  ‘OK, listen in, we don’t have much time.’ A man in high-ranking police uniform had stepped up on the stage and started speaking before he arrived at the centre. He was maybe a commissioner or something like that. Cam didn’t know police ranks.