Celt_The Journey of Kyle Gibbs

by Wayne Marinovich

  ‘Look, Sergeant, we have been captured and will no doubt serve time in one of your local prisons. I see no reason to land them in trouble as well,’ Ton replied.

  ‘I have my reasons, Ton,’ Gibbs said. ‘I might soon be up for a bit of private work myself.’

  Ton stared at him through the prison door hatch. ‘Get us out of here and down to London, and I promise I'll introduce you to him myself.’

  Gibbs burst out laughing. ‘I’ll have to respectfully decline, Ton. I’m in enough trouble as it is, so I don’t think that I’ll be breaking anyone out of prison anytime soon. Besides, there must be a few agents out there looking for good men so with a bit of asking around I could probably find my own.’

  ‘Not without a decent referral, you won’t,’ Ton insisted. ‘They will check your military records and would want current references. Ten years ago you could have easily got an agent to put your name out there, but in today’s climate most of those agents have disappeared. If you don’t have a referral to go along with the AWOL, there is no chance in hell you will get any decent work.’

  Gibbs felt the anger rising within him. The man was right. ‘Enjoy prison, mate,’ Gibbs said, and closed the metal hatch.

  ***

  ‘Sergeant Gibbs, wake up. Please, you have to get up now.’

  Gibbs stirred and rolled over onto his back and looked up at the white ceiling. He and the boys had had more than a skinful of beer the night before in a local Grangemouth bar, and it felt like something had crawled inside him and died. He blinked and slowly opened his eyes to see an attractive blonde woman in a full military dress suit, standing over his bed. He smiled and sat up in bed, all too aware of her apparent awkwardness at the naked man lying in front of her.

  ‘Cover yourself please, Sergeant,’ she said, looking away.

  ‘Hello, Lieutenant Matthews,’ he replied. ‘How did my hearing go yesterday?’

  ‘It might have gone better had you bothered to turn up at all,’ she replied.

  ‘If I recall correctly, you told me it was a tribunal to determine what charges would be brought against me and that I was not required to be present,’ Gibbs replied.

  ‘That may be the case, but seeing that Captain Warren is trying to nail your lily-white backside to the wall, Sergeant, your presence at the tribunal would have gone a long way to show remorse for what you did.’

  ‘My lily-white arse feels no remorse for giving that idiot those black eyes; it was the least I could do for humanity. I do, however, feel at a disadvantage now that you have seen said lily-white arse,' he said. ‘So, what is your first name, Lieutenant?’

  ‘You can call me Lieutenant,’ she said with a smile.

  ’Well, that’s just silly. How are we going to have a conversation over a romantic dinner if it’s all Lieutenant this, and Sergeant that?’ Gibbs asked.

  ‘A dinner that will never happen, Gibbs,’ she replied.

  ‘You should take me up on the offer of a meal while I am still here,’ he said. ‘You will miss me when I am gone, you know.’

  ‘In the same way I would miss root canal treatment?’

  Gibbs chuckled. ‘So just how bad is it for my lily-white arse?’

  ‘You have been stripped of your rank, Gibbs, and have now been confined to the barracks on full pay, until the court martial next week. Then, well, who knows? We are still busy preparing your defence, but judging by your file it’s going to be tough to keep you out of detention barracks, and in the army.’

  ***

  A few days into his confinement, Gibbs lay on the bed with his hands tucked behind his head. Killey was face down on his bed snoring loudly while Shredder sat on the bed across from Gibbs and listened to some or other loud rock band. Boredom was starting to take its toll on men who thrived on action.

  Gibbs was staring at the same cracked white ceiling panel when his phone rang with the caller ID showing Aunt Rhona. He loved speaking to his aunt, as she was the spitting image of his mother and always stirred up memories that had long been beaten out of him.

  ‘Hello, my boy,’ his aunt said.

  ‘This is a surprise.’

  ‘It’s not the call I wanted to make, Kyle,’ she said. ‘I am afraid I have bad news.’

  Gibbs felt his chest tighten. ‘Has something happened to Uncle Gordon?’

  ‘No, son. He is fine. It’s about your father.’

  Gibbs lay in silence for a few seconds. ‘What's he done now?’

  ‘I am afraid he died last night,’ she said in a strained tone. ‘I am so sorry, Kyle.’

  ‘What happened to the drunk?’

  ‘The fire service said that he had been on the drink and passed out with a lit cigarette. He didn’t even move off the couch, apparently,’ she replied.

  ‘It was inevitable, wasn’t it?’ Gibbs said, picturing his abusive father living above the family pub where Gibbs was raised.

  ‘I guess so. At least, no one else was injured. The funeral will be this Wednesday in Stonehaven, and he will be buried next to your mother.’

  ‘Well, she was the only one who did love him,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘Will we see you on Wednesday then, Kyle?’

  ‘No, Aunt Rhona. The man treated us all like shit, so I have no respects to pay at his graveside,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘That’s what I thought, son.’

  ‘Send Uncle Gordon and the cousins my regards.’

  ‘I will do, Kyle,’ she said. ‘Come visit us sometime. We miss you.’

  ‘Sure.’

  He lay back and thought of all the anger that he had felt throughout his violent past. What would drive him on now?

  ‘Sorry to hear about your old man, mate,’ Killey said, sitting up on his bed.

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Gibbs said. ‘But let’s not waste any more thought on him. That chapter is finally over.’

  Chapter 12

  Grangemouth Refinery Barracks, Scotland, UK - 2019

  Adrenalin coursed through the man as he moved from the corner of the barracks building across from the open dust parade ground to the main shower and ablution block. It was a full moon, and the mission to sneak around the large base undetected was proving trickier than ever. The guard who had helped them get into the cells previously, was off duty. They simply had no easy way in. A female fox screamed her ghost-like mating call to nearby males, and the man stopped to listen for any sound from their target.

  Security on the army base had been tightened since the destruction of the pipeline, with the guard being doubled at all external posts. He paused for a moment to peer around the corner of the main shower block at the stockade where the captive saboteurs were being held. Gibbs waited until he heard soft footfalls stealing up behind him.

  ‘Last chance, gents,’ Gibbs whispered when they caught up with him.

  Shredder just smiled and nodded his head in the direction of the admin building. ‘See you both a little later.’

  Gibbs and Killey walked straight up to the guard at the main door. The young guard dressed in brown fatigues brought his weapon up. ‘Halt! Password?’

  ‘Glen Fiddich,’ Gibbs replied, the words they had procured from an entrepreneurial staff sergeant on Captain Warren’s team. The guard lowered his weapon, the relief evident on his face.

  ‘Evening, Sergeant Gibbs, I thought you were confined to barracks, sir. May I enquire what business you have in here at this time?’ the corporal asked.

  ‘Of course you may, Corporal. I intend to break some of the captives out of their cells and take them with me off the base,’ he replied, a big smile on his face.

  The young corporal laughed. ‘No, seriously, sir,’ he replied before he collapsed as Killey struck the base of his neck with his sidearm, knocking him out cold.

  ‘Bring him inside,’ Gibbs said.

  Dragging the unconscious guard into the main passage, they turned into a side guard room. Two men were asleep on army cots waiting to start their later shifts. Killey laid the unconscious guard down on the f
loor and quietly closed the door on his way out.

  Gibbs walked out into the main corridor again and down to the cells, and on reaching Ton’s cell looked back before tapping softly on the metal door. After a few seconds, he opened the metal hatch and whispered, ‘Ton, wake up, it’s Gibbs.’

  ‘What do you want now?’

  ‘So just to be clear, if I get you to London, you’ll give us the necessary details and introductions?’ Gibbs whispered.

  ‘That is what I said. When do you propose we leave?’

  The sound as the key slipped into a keyhole and unlocked the cell door seemed as loud as a gunshot in the quiet corridor.

  ‘How about now?’

  ‘What about Walter, I have not had news of him in days?’

  ‘Just go with Killey,’ Gibbs said. ‘I’ll go and get him.’

  A few minutes later Gibbs led the men down the corridor and stopped suddenly as two guards stood before them, their SA80 machine guns covering the group.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ the first guard shouted.

  ‘So you thought we were sleeping, did you?’ the second guard said.

  Hiding behind one of the protruding corridor pillars and facing Gibbs, stood Killey, who had been keeping a watchful eye on the parade ground outside when he heard the two men talking behind the closed door. He smiled at Gibbs and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Now, gentlemen, why don’t you lower those weapons before you go and hurt someone?’

  ‘Quiet, Sergeant Gibbs,’ the second guard shouted. ‘You have been caught so please do as we say.’

  ‘Robinson, I’ll cover them while you go and trigger the alarm,’ the first guard said.

  As the guard turned to leave, bright lights from outside shone through the front door and lit up the whole entrance area. The two guards briefly turned to look at the source of the lights.

  Killey spun around the corner and with a roar like a crazed mythical Minotaur, charged headlong into the two young guards who were just metres from him.

  He hit them both in the throat area with his outstretched forearms as he ran between them, smashing their upper bodies backwards. As they fell, he grabbed the muzzles of both their machine guns and ripped the weapons from their grip. ‘Now, stay down, kiddies, or I will fuck you both up.’

  Gibbs ushered the mercenaries past the frightened guards, who had slithered on the floor to the side wall. The sound of a truck door slamming then the crunching sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel outside made them all drop to their knees. A few seconds later Shredder appeared in the doorway with a big smile on his face. ‘Taxi’s here, ladies.’

  ‘Perfect timing,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘Killey, bring those two lads with us. I don’t want to make it too easy for them to work out who did this. We can let them loose for a little day-trip in London.’

  ***

  A clanging bell-like alarm outside his window wrenched Captain Warren from his sleep. He sat up quickly and fumbled with the bedside lamp before stumbling into his brown fatigues and army boots. A loud banging on the door made him jump. A nervous twinge in his stomach grew stronger.

  ‘Yes, I’m coming,’ he shouted.

  ‘Hurry, Captain,’ the voice said.

  ‘What is it?’ he said, yanking the door open.

  A young soldier in brown fatigues stood outside the door trying to catch his breath. His beret had slipped forward, and his glasses had dropped to the tip of his nose from all the running. ‘The prisoners have escaped, sir.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Captain Warren asked.

  ‘Three of the prisoners have escaped, sir.’

  Pushing past the soldier, Captain Warren walked out of the officers’ quarters across to the admin block. Flashing blue lights from three military police Land Rovers lit up the red-bricked building. Urgency was in the air as men scurried in and out of the main door. A sergeant saw him approach and saluted his greeting. ‘Good evening, Captain.’

  ‘What the hell happened here, Sergeant?’ he asked.

  ‘Three of the men who were involved in the recent pipeline explosions have been freed, sir.’

  ‘You mean escaped?’

  ‘I am afraid not, sir. Although we don’t have all the facts yet, it seems that a number of men assisted them in getting out of their cells. They commandeered a truck from the motor pool, and we believe they have left the base, sir.’

  Captain Warren struggled to gather his breath as he felt a panic attack setting off. ‘Well, let’s not stand around. Show me, Sergeant.’

  They had a quick look inside the three empty cells then went to the guard room where two military policemen were searching the place. Sitting on the edge of a bunk and being treated by a medic, was the young guard.

  ‘What happened to the other guards that should be here?’ Captain Warren asked.

  ‘No sign of them, Captain. We assume they were involved in the escape. But we will keep looking for them.’

  ‘Is that the guard who let them in?’ Captain Warren pointed to the injured guard.

  ‘Yes, sir. They knocked him out cold, it seems,’ the sergeant replied. ‘I don’t think he will be of any use.’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that.’

  The medic looked up and snapped to attention.

  ‘Captain?’

  ‘Has he told us what happened?’

  ‘No, sir, he is suffering from a severe concussion and is not making any sense. He is slurring his words and keeps passing out,’ the medic replied.

  ‘Has he said anything that could help us?’ Captain Warren asked.

  ‘He has mumbled the name Gibbs a few times.’

  Captain Warren’s jaw dropped. He tried to take a deep breath to compose himself. ‘Bloody Gibbs again,’ he shouted. ‘Go and fetch him, Sergeant.’

  The open doors to the now vacant holding cells made him feel dizzy, and he wanted to throw up. This was not going to look good on his military service record. People had been demoted for lesser security lapses. A few minutes later he found himself outside the main door, breathing in the cool night air. The sight of the sergeant running across the courtyard towards him, with a grim look on his face, told him that his worst nightmare had come true.

  ‘We can’t find him, sir,’ the sergeant informed him. ‘And it seems some of his unit have also disappeared. Should I alert the Metropolitan Police to keep a look out for the truck?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Sergeant, this is a military matter. You will lead the investigation and personally see to their capture. You will only report back to me. No one else,’ Captain Warren replied.

  ‘What about my superiors, sir?’ the sergeant asked.

  ‘You have your orders, Sergeant, speak only to me about this,’ Captain Warren replied. ‘Now, go and catch the bastard!’

  ***

  Gibbs opened his eyes and looked out over the blocked tarmac that lay ahead of them on the M4 motorway into London. They had travelled through the night down from Grangemouth via Manchester and were now on their final stretch into the UK capital. The boredom in the front cab of the truck was only punctuated by the occasional aeroplane on final approach to land at London Heathrow.

  ‘It is weird to see so few planes coming in to land at the airport,’ Shredder said.

  ‘Since it was taken over by the government last year, strict controls on the numbers of flights have been implemented. I hear that only business flights are allowed nowadays,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘What would you give to be able to go on holiday again?’ Shredder asked.

  ‘I know. Imagine walking along a beach somewhere with a bronzed beauty, a couple of drinks and no thought of this broken London we are about to enter. I reckon the Caribbean would be great this time of year,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘So once we have made decent cash doing a few mercenary jobs, will we be amongst the privileged few who can afford to fly around?’ Shredder asked.

  ‘Not likely, mate. Just look at all the abandoned cars along the verges of this
motorway. Only the seriously wealthy can afford to operate a car and still have the connections with the military or the gangs who control most of the fuel.’

  ‘The military were more prepared and had stockpiled large amounts of diesel and petrol for any military operations, but the everyday man in the street had long lost the ability to move around in cars. All these luxury and small engine vehicles that you see parked here simply coasted to a stop. The same can be seen all over London.’

  Shredder looked out over the steering wheel and said. ‘The abandoned car, all rusting away makes it feel like we are part of a bloody apocalyptic movie. Next thing we’ll be attacked by zombies or something.’

  ‘Ain’t that the truth?’ Gibbs said, and looked down at the sliver of paper with the phone number and address that Ton had given him when they dropped him off at the airport.

  ‘You still think that the contact is legitimate?’ Shredder asked as he swerved across the road to miss another deserted vehicle.

  ‘I hope so. In the end, I don’t think Ton had any reason to bullshit us. We did get him out of a tight spot back there,’ Gibbs replied.

  ‘We also shot and killed many of his men, Gibbs,’ Shredder reminded him.

  Gibbs nodded. Shredder could be right of course.

  ***

  Condensation dripped off the cold beer and into Gibbs’s lap as he sat on the veranda beneath a big outdoor umbrella. The hot weather certainly had added to the lively atmosphere on the waterfront in Richmond-upon-Thames. He smiled at the thought of Killey and Shredder watching him through binoculars from a distant rooftop, all the while baking in the scorching sun. It had been their idea to cover Gibbs while he sat waiting at the Pitcher and Piano pub for the agent that Ton had told them about. He raised his beer to the men observing him and smiled, fully aware of the verbal abuse he would get when they met up later. Gibbs’s phone started to vibrate with an incoming call.

  ‘Gibbs,’ he answered.

  ‘It’s David Kirkwood. I’m changing the venue, so get a cab to the Kings Head in Putney, it’s on Lower Richmond Road, I will be waiting,’ Kirkwood said.