Enemy Within

by William David

  Just then Alec and Frank arrived, Alec had apparently picked Frank up from Temple Meads station.

  Alec organised coffees for himself and Frank and breakfast for himself. I had eaten at home and Frank had breakfast on the train. Having told Alec of Stewarts presence we’d then gone on to discuss Mendip Finance and the meeting yesterday. It was obvious that Alec had filled Frank in with all of the detail by phone the previous evening. Frank did not know Mendip Finance but he was of course aware of Allied Grampian whom he described as a solid “middle of the road” investment bank.

  As far as the potential offer for the Company was concerned Frank had been surprised, but said that if it were genuine then it would have to be considered and presented to the board. “Of course he said, in many ways the decision is down to you two. Between you, you hold 60% of the company”. He was right though I doubted Armstrong Ventures would totally agree. Armstrong was the venture capitalist that held a further 30% of the company, the remaining 10% being held by Frank and key staff. Armstrong would definitely have a view!

  Alec had got up and went to pay the bill and, as we were about to follow Stewart had came across with his coffee and sat himself down in front of us.

  “Good morning gentlemen”, he’d said.

  I’d introduced him somewhat sarcastically to Frank, “this is the spook we told you about, Frank” at which Stewart protested and restated his MoD credentials.

  “Don’t mind him, he means well!”

  Stewart had laughed, “We would like to meet with you and take our earlier conversations with Mr Bell and Mr Lever further?”

  “I am only in town for the day and I am pretty tied up.”

  “We would prefer to do it in London, any way” said Stewart, “preferably at our place, as some of my colleagues would like to join in”.

  “Give me a call tomorrow and we can set up a time, the meeting will need to include Alec so I will check his availability.” With that we’d got up and left Stewart sitting at the table with his coffee.

  As we joined Alec at the door Frank explained the situation to Alec. “ I think we need to follow this up and find out what is going on, but I will need you with me. Probably not necessary for you to come up Martin, but feel free to do so if you wish.”

  “I won't bother” I’d said, “you don't need me and London is not my favourite destination.”

  Two days later Frank and Alec had met ‘the spook’ and friends in Whitehall. The news from the meeting was that the MoD had classified Control Networks as potentially being strategically important to the national interest and a very strong hint given that Plavsic and Mendip Finance would not be allowed to acquire Control Networks, even if we wanted to sell. Apparently they had brought up the subject of Mendip Finance without prompting from us. Interesting, how had they known?

  In the meantime a courier had delivered the promised draft Term Sheet from Mendip Finance together with a Letter of Comfort from Allied Grampian advising that in their opinion Mendip Finance had access to the resources necessary to do a deal. The Term Sheet was only a draft and therefore did not constitute a firm offer, but it was interesting all the same. It did not value the company quite as highly as the brokers claimed a successful IPO would, but it came close. They must really want it! Alec and I would have more money on signing the deal than either of us had seen before and after the successful completion of 3 year employment contracts we could both be billionaires. There was also a commitment to a substantial injection of working capital, which had been my motivation for agreeing to the IPO and of course like the IPO it was a method by which Armstrong could successfully exit their investment.

  I had never really been interested in lots of money; it was not my major motivation. However the idea of hundreds of millions is mind boggling, and represented a scale of wealth and opportunity that I had not really focussed on until now.

  CHAPTER 12

  That night I had got in about seven. As I’d stepped through the door I realised that the TV was on, Adrian must be back, but no, he didn't have a key so it couldn't be him. I had not used the TV for several days but it was blaring away and I walked in to the lounge to turn it off and bent over to get the remote on the coffee table to switch it off. In doing so I’d realised there was someone sitting in the armchair by the window. It really made me jump.

  “Who the hell are you and how did you get in here!”

  He was wearing a beige trench coat, raised a gloved hand as if to calm me down, and told me that he had dropped by for a little chat. I’d been angry, and frankly a little scared, and threatened to call the police; he sat there unmoving, staring at me. Once I had calmed down a bit more he started to speak.

  “I am here to give you a message. Do not float your company.”

  “What, what are you talking about?”

  “I have given you the message, do not ignore it or else.”

  “This is ridiculous!”

  “Not ridiculous Mr Lever, really serious. I also want to know if you have you seen your brother recently?” he’d asked.

  “What has that got to do with you I said? Get out of my house,” I’d demanded.

  He’d ignored me and told that his friends were most unhappy with my brother and wanted to talk to him. My brother had something that belonged to them and they wanted it back. Somewhat indignantly I’d asked him who his friends were and what gave him the right to break in to my house. I suppose I had calmed down and the fear had subsided so I was feeling braver and even wondered if I could tackle him. He must have sensed that and he’d stood up and drew a knife from his coat pocket. It was a long bladed switch knife and the sight of it made me step back. He’d told me not to worry, that he was not here to hurt me, this time, just to deliver a message, which he had done. I would do well to get my brother to heed it. He then gave me a slip of paper with a telephone number on it and told me to get Adrian to call him immediately and ask for Groucho.

  “Groucho!” I’d said, “What sort of name is that, and who is Groucho.”

  “Just a friend interested in your brothers welfare.” He’d then walked to the door and quietly left.

  I’d poured myself a large Scotch and slumped down in a chair, the sweat pouring off me.

  An hour later Adrian arrived and I told him what had happened.

  “I think I had better call Groucho,” he said.

  “You could go to the police instead.”

  “I am not sure that would be a good idea. From what I can see these people have to be security services of some kind, so the police are on their side. The best I could expect would be a prosecution for the hacking and at the worst they might deliver me in to the hands of these guys. No, the only card I have is a copy of that video, so how do I use that?”

  “They could be watching the house,” I’d said. “They probably know you are here.”

  “Yes, you're right, I need to get out of here while I think about what to do,” he said getting up and moving toward the door.

  “Where will you go?”

  “I have the girl friend at Pill on the other side of town, nobody knows of her, so I will stay there for a while.”

  “If these guys are heavy as you suggest,” I’d said, “then they will have the facility to track your mobile phone. I have one of those pay as you go phones somewhere, I will find it and you can use that, leave your phone here.” A few minutes later I came down the stairs with the phone and handed it to him.

  “As they are probably watching the house leave your car here in the drive and use the MG in the garage, go out the back lane.”

  Adrian looked at me in surprise. “You don't ever let anyone else drive that,” he’d exclaimed. He was right; it was my pride and joy, a 1935 MG sports soft top in British racing green in immaculate condition.

  “I don't think we have any choice at the moment, it's running well, I gave it a run last week. Don't crash it!”

  With that Adrian had left through the back door to the garage at the foot of the garden. I he
ard the faint rumble of the MG engine, and then quiet. Hopefully he got away undetected.

  The next morning I had got up half expecting to be confronted with something new, but all was quiet, so after an orange juice and cereal I jumped in the car and headed off to work. My imagination had me being followed but as far as I could see I wasn't. At one point I imagined that a white van had been behind me a suspiciously long time but even that turned off, and everything else looked innocuous.

  At work I’d soon became embroiled in the issues of the day and time passed quickly. I gone out to a call box at lunchtime and phoned Adrian and he’d confirmed that he was OK and was staying at the girlfriend’s house as planned.

  CHAPTER 13

  That night, arriving home I had walked in to the house to see that I had been burgled. In the study my papers were strewn everywhere, the contents of the fridge and drawers in the kitchen turfed on to the floor with the same in the bedroom, and the back door had been forced. I’d returned to the lounge and was about to call the police when I was hit on the back of the head.

  I came to slowly and as I’d opened my eyes I could see spots of blood congealing in front of me on the pine floor, my blood I presumed. There was a noise, someone was still there and searching through the bookshelves by the simple expedient of pulling them over with books flying out and crashing to the floor. What were they looking for? Adrian’s disc I assume.

  The next minute I was grabbed and flung in to a chair by two men. They were yelling something at me but in my dazed state I could not make it out so I pretended to lapse in to unconsciousness again. One of them slapped me hard trying to bring me round. He gave up, pulled the ‘‘‘phone cord out of its socket and disappeared, presumably to join his friend in wrecking the house.

  After a few minutes I’d managed to get to my feet. I could hear them making a noise upstairs as I quietly moved towards the door. It opened with just a slight creak and I’d stumbled out in to the rain and down the steps and along the path towards the car. There was a yell, my departure had been spotted and the chase was on. I reached the car; fortunately I still had the keys in my pocket, and started it as a figure had burst out through the front door and down the path followed seconds later by a second. I’d slammed the car in to reverse and shot back up the drive and out on to the road, nearly going in to the beech hedge opposite the gateway in the process. As I pulled away one of the men, an unshaven individual in a black leather jacket and black shirt, had grabbed the door handle but I picked up speed and he was forced to let go and fell to the road. I’d swerved violently to avoid hitting a Volvo Estate parked in close to the hedge. Looking in the mirror as I’d careered off down the lane I could see the two men running to the Volvo.

  The solution was to get to the police, and the nearest police would be the station in the village. As I’d roared down the hill in to the village, the wipers were not coping well with the rain, which was torrential; I could see headlights behind me, the Volvo. I’d screeched to a halt outside the police station. It was dark; it was closed and nobody answered as I thundered on the door. I’d cursed, only manned for a limited number of hours each day. Looking around I could see that the whole village was deserted and silent. It seemed no one want to brave the weather. I’d looked up and could see the Volvo hurtling down the street straight towards me and jumping back in to the car I’d slammed it in to reverse gear. The Volvo swerved and crashed diagonally in to the passenger side bouncing off and knocking me sideways across the cobbled street. The Volvo window opened and a hand waved what looked like a pistol. I did not wait to find out and gunned the car on down the high street and out in to the country again. Looking in my mirror I could see that the Volvo was in hot pursuit.

  Back out in to the country again, the lanes were narrow with hedgerows or dry-stone walls pressing in on both sides; I’d prayed we would not meet anything coming the other way. I was steering with one hand as I tried to use my mobile with the other, and call the police. The Volvo was catching me and soon the headlights were right on my tail. The car jumped and there was a loud crash noise; my mobile fell to the floor. I realised that the Volvo had rammed me and I’d put my foot down further on the throttle only just getting round the next corner without losing it and leaving the road. The Volvo dropped back and then gained again; the jump and the crash as I was rammed, and then a screeching noise, the Volvo did not drop back, he was hooked on to my tow bar, the steering was light and I was losing control. I’d braked and we skidded locked together, and left the road, crashing through an old dry stone wall. We were at the top of an embankment and the car toppled over on to the roof and skied upside down at top speed down the slope towards trees at the bottom!

  CHAPTER 14

  Coming back to the present with a start, I looked up from the empty Latte cup and then down at my watch. After having spun out three coffees for nearly two hours I was receiving some sideways looks from the staff. I suppose I had been here a long time. The trouble was that I was comfortable and did not relish moving again. I gingerly rose to my feet, paid the bill, and walked out to the shopping mall. I needed a phone. I quickly bought one with a pay as you go SIM card and walked down the mall to the garden area where I was able find a bench and sit down. Time to call Alec. Alec was in the office and I was put through quickly.

  “Alec, this is Martin, can you meet with me? I don't want to come to the office at the moment.”

  “What is going on, Martin,” said an understandably perplexed Alec, “Are you alright? I understand you sneaked out of the hospital and stole a car!”

  “I will explain when we get together, if you can get away how about the coffee stand near the SS Great Britain in half an hour?”

  Alec sighed, “OK, see you then.”

  The day had brightened up and sitting in the warm sun was very pleasant. I started to relax while I drank yet another coffee and waited for Alec. It was very pleasant here with the SS Great Britain’s masts towering to the left and the recently rejuvenated harbour developments in front of me. I could see a ferry making its way across the water and in the bow was the tall figure of Alec, he waved and I waved back. The ferry reached the wharf and Alec was quickly with me. Having ordered himself a coffee he slumped down in to a chair beside me.

  “Sounds like you are having a rough time,” I said.

  “Not really, it’s just that a few minutes before you called I had a somewhat unpleasant phone conversation with that git Plavsic.”

  “So you don't like him either,” I said.

  “He just won't take no for an answer. He had been told by Allied Grampian of our board decision not to take his proposals any further and he wanted to discuss it further. When I politely said no, that our decision was final he became unpleasant, almost threatening.”

  “Now that is interesting”, I said. I then went on to tell him the story of my 'accident'.

  “You don't think it was Plavsic who knocked you off the road, do you?”

  “Well, not personally because that driver is dead, but maybe he is involved. Perhaps the accident was meant to be a warning that went wrong?”

  “But why?” said Alec. “It sounds a bit far fetched that someone would try strong arm tactics like that just because we turned him down”.

  “I agree, but maybe there is more to Plavsic than we know. I have felt that someone has been following me for the past week or so and then just before I set out for home the other night I had a threatening call. An obviously very heavily disguised voice threatened me that I would be 'dead meat' if I allowed the company to float. That's all he said, and hung up.”

  “Well. There is something I didn't tell you. Three days ago I got an anonymous letter threatening something similar. Well not a letter really, it was a message made up of letters cut out of magazines.”

  “Have you still got it?” I said.

  “No, thought it was a crank and threw it away. Why did you run away from hospital? I couldn't believe it when I heard.”

  “Frankly, I was s
cared. The accident seemed like an attempt to kill me and I was lucky to get out alive. On top of that there was this business of being followed, and lying there in hospital I felt like I was a sitting duck if someone wanted to try again. I have even stopped using my credit cards so they can't locate me.” I did not feel like telling Alec about Adrian's problem.

  “You're being crazy Martin. We may have a problem here but tracing you through credit card use is something that only police and security services could do. Don't you think you are going over the top?”

  “Maybe,” I said, “You're call from Plavsic puts a different light on it. However there is something else I need to tell you.” I then described the home visit and threat I had from the man in the trench coat.

  “Why did you not tell me before, and why have you not told the police?” said Alec.

  “I'm not really sure why I kept it to myself,” I said. “The more I thought about it; there was really very little to tell the police that they could act on or use to identify the bloke, and I suppose I was a bit shocked. Frankly I am not a great fan of the police, probably stemming from the days of getting beaten up during student demonstrations, so I decided to leave it. The only action I took was to change the locks on the front door, he obviously had a key.”

  “I think we now need to involve the police, straight away. Tell them everything that has happened and see what they make of it. If you put the whole thing on a formal basis with the authorities that might restrain these people or at least make them think twice.”