Killing Time

by John Kerr

  Jake took a final position on the GPS, fixed it in his head and moved off. Although he felt a small change in weight due to his pack being lighter he knew that the main reason that the walk was getting that little bit easier was the fact he was now in civilian mode. It made a huge difference; he was now just a lone walker out on the hills enjoying himself. Okay, he looked like shit… but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Jake would pass off as just another nobody, not Jake Silverman… Government killer. He could again feel his feet move to the front of his boots and that let him know that slowly but surely he was descending from what had very nearly become his final resting place. Death had always been a big part of his life, but it had always been someone else’s. Sure, he had thought many times about his own demise but he had always viewed it with an open mind. Jake had been ready to die, he had been willing to die, but, even more importantly to Jake, he had been able to die.

  Jake knew that in his line of work death would probably be from a Russian-made AK47, which was a brilliant weapon, unusually light and very effective. If it was in the right hands, Jake wouldn’t feel a thing and it would all be over in an instant. That was something he could live with, and even the thought of dying up here amongst the hills that he truly loved was not a problem. But what did sit uneasily with Jake was the fact that he could lie up here for weeks, months or even years, and no one would ever know what had happened to him. He would have disappeared without a trace, and it suddenly made him wonder if Vicky would have cared. Or would she simply have thought that he had gone off somewhere to lick his wounds? Would she ever look up towards the place she knew he loved and wonder if he was watching her?

  Of course, he would always watch over her, it was something that he couldn’t help. Jake would always be there for her. He would never want to get in her way, but if she ever got into any sort of trouble and he could help out he would… hopefully without her knowing.

  The morning wore on and Jake tentatively made his way down from the ridge as the temperature slowly rose by a few degrees. The swelling in his fingers had gone down and he had the feeling back in his legs. He could feel his body heat slowly drying out his clothes and he was feeling better about himself. Suddenly he knew he was going to make it; the wind had abated completely and he could now step up his pace to something resembling what he was used to. The small stream was gradually getting bigger and had grown sufficiently to give off a small rumble as it tumbled over the rocks that lay in it’s path. The morning mist was beginning to break up and disperse. Jake saw the valley floor 300 metres below. It spread out into the distance and as it came into view he knew that life was down below, just as death had been left behind him deep inside the mist-covered trees. Jake turned and looked back up the hill. He couldn’t see the trees in the mist but he knew they were there… he could feel them. Jake would never forget them. He knew deep inside his heart that he had come very, very close to dying. Only his survival training and sheer bloody-mindedness had pulled him through. Jake’s will to live had been as much to do with Vicky as it had been to do with himself. If he had ever been in trouble up here and things had got a little sticky, he had always imagined her here with him. She would walk beside him, or even slightly in front of him, her hand outstretched, beckoning him to take one more step. It never failed, but this time it had been a lot closer than even he had liked. Jake didn’t feel good about last night… sure he had survived, and that was the name of the game, but it should have been a lot easier than it had been. It should have been food and drink to Jake; he had done it before and worse. It turned out differently to what he would have liked and that was something that worried him greatly. Jake had had to struggle more than he should have and it had very nearly been the end of him.

  FORTY-ONE

  The noise from the street-gritters as they rumbled past Peter’s window so early in the morning woke him with a start. Turning quickly he glanced at the bedside clock; it told him it was just after 8 a.m. He sprung out of bed and looked through his half-opened curtains.

  Shit, it looked as though it had snowed all night and he immediately moved his gaze towards the hills that he could not see but knew instinctively probably still held his boy. Although Peter himself was a very accomplished hill walker, even in the dark, he was more than glad that he had been tucked up in his warm bed rather than be up there in the freezing cold. If Jake had survived last night he deserved a fucking medal. The thought burst into his head as he lifted the window and felt the full icy blast as it rushed into his room. Christ, it was cold.

  Peter banged the window shut and after a quick shower and breakfast, he was almost ready to leave, when his mobile phone rang. The vibration against his chest immediately gave him a jolt; it was the first time it had rung and it could only be contact from H.Q. It meant something was going down. It was more than likely serious and it was about to happen on his ground. He quickly pressed the receive button and placed the phone to his ear.

  ‘Peter! Both of you down here, asap,’ the voice said, just before the phone went dead.

  ‘Yeah, fucking good one,’ he replied to no one.

  ‘I’m standing here on my own… fuck knows where Jake is. What am I supposed to do, just pluck him out of thin air? He could be anywhere, for Christ’s sake.’ Peter continued to talk out loud as he shook his head and realised all he could do was sit and wait. It could be a long day! Sod it.

  Later that day Justin and Vicky sat in the café having lunch, totally unaware that as they ate and enjoyed each other’s company their every movement was being watched. The door opened and in stepped Peter. He gave a small wave and went over. He leant on their table, trying to appear very much at ease, knowing that there was every possibility Vicky would know something was wrong if the tone in his voice was not quite right.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen or heard from Jake?’ he looked at her hopefully.

  ‘No, not for a while. Why, what’s up?’ she replied, returning his gaze.

  ‘No, nothing, it’s just that I’ve got some more work for him and I need to get a hold of him.’ Even Peter could hear the resignation in his voice that he suddenly wished wasn’t there.

  ‘Why don’t you try his mobile phone?’ she asked.

  ‘Mobile…? I didn’t know he had a mobile, you wouldn’t happen to have it would you?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Sure, he’s got an old mobile of mine. I made him take it so I could always get in touch.’ Vicky opened her bag and wrote the number for Peter. ‘Thanks,’ he said, grabbing the note.

  He disappeared back out into the snow-covered streets and even he missed the two strange men sitting in the van across from the small café. Walking straight past their van, he held onto the piece of paper in a vice-like grip. Not for one minute did he think that out on the hills somewhere was this country’s best one-man fighting machine, a man who worked alone through the night, evading capture like no one else, and who, when he took a delivery or disappeared into the night and could not be contacted, would possibly have in his possession a mobile phone. The thought was mind-blowing. This was most definitely not standard operational procedure. Peter jumped into his car and removed his phone from his pocket. He quickly punched in the number, pressed the send button and waited…

  It seemed like an eternity, but the noise suddenly burst into his ear. Christ, it was ringing. He just hoped that Jake would be at the other end and be in a fit and able condition to answer it. He waited… the ringing stopped and he heard a click. Someone had pressed the receive button… he heard nothing…

  FORTY-TWO

  Jake had regained something of his old self… he certainly wasn’t back to normal, but he was very slowly covering the distance. The ground had levelled out and the mist had lifted by the time Jake put the phone to his ear.

  ‘Jake!’ It was a voice he didn’t recognise at first…

  ‘Jake…It’s Peter, are you okay mate?’ The words thundered into Jake’s head but before he could answer Peter screamed again,

&nbs
p; ‘Jake, do you want me to come and get you?’ The Cavalry… thank fuck! Jake didn’t need help but he would take it. Anything that would get him off this fucking hill faster and back to fighting fitness was an opportunity not to be passed up.

  ‘North out of the village, five miles just below Clockmires Hill, inside the old brick factory… two hours,’ Jake said. Peter’s phone immediately went dead but his heart lifted no end. Jake was still alive and on his way home. God, he must be in a shit state. Peter drove out to the old brickworks straight away and waited. The old factory had been unused for a number of years and lay some distance from the main road. Peter knew where to find it, as Jake had told him it was where he did his training when he was trying to get himself fit.

  He had been waiting for a fraction less than 2 hours when Jake appeared from the corner of the building. He was fifty metres ahead of him and from this distance he appeared to be in quite good condition. Peter drove the car quickly and screeched to a halt by Jake’s side. He jumped from the vehicle and helped Jake remove his pack.

  ‘How you doing?’ Peter asked, as Jake turned and winked.

  ‘Yeah, I’m alive,’ he replied, with a somewhat subdued tone in his voice.

  ‘That bad, eh?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Like shit.’

  ‘There’s a flask of hot coffee.’

  ‘Don’t drink it, tastes like tar.’

  ‘It’s hot; get it down your neck.’ Jake ignored the request as he jumped into the vehicle and turned the heater on full blast. The temperature inside the car was soon stiflingly hot. It quickly helped thaw out the dampness that Jake could feel deep in his bones. He turned to Peter. ‘Okay, what’s up?’ he asked.

  ‘Both of us… down to London straight away. I don’t know what it’s all about but it sounds serious,’ answered Peter.

  ‘Christ, that is serious,’ Jake said as he turned the radio on and began to whistle along to a tune that he didn’t really know, and was making a very bad job of trying to follow.

  ‘Do you think there’s any chance of me catching a quick shower before we go?’ Both men looked at each other for a second and burst into laughter.

  ‘Yeah, no problem,’ said Peter.

  ‘Thank fuck for that. I’m going to get my head down.’ Jake said as he wrapped his arms around himself, leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.

  ‘Take it easy,’ said Jake, almost asleep.

  Glancing at Jake as he lay on the seat next to him, Peter shook his head slowly He could hear Jake snoring slightly as the sound drifted towards him. Christ, he’s asleep already!

  Peter wondered what was next in store for Jake, and how a man with the ability that he possessed could ever have been happy delivering mail. How could someone like him ever push letters through letter boxes and believe that he had done a good day’s work? Jake had told them that he was content before rejoining them. But that was most probably down to her. Had she tamed the beast in him? Had she soothed the fighting demon that he undoubtedly had deep inside himself? It appeared so. Jake seemed to be completely happy in his life with Vicky until the break-up. It had turned out to be good for them, and Peter hoped in the end it would be good for Jake as well…but who could tell? They would just have to wait and see.

  Peter dropped Jake off at home and told him they would head off to London at midnight. The drive through the night was always easier; it would let Jake sleep a little more and help him regain some of the energy that he had obviously used in the preceding days and nights.

  FORTY-THREE

  It was just before midnight when Peter turned into the small street behind the bank. Halfway down the row of houses that had been converted into flats, standing just inside the shadows, was Jake. As Peter pulled to a halt he watched in amazement as his friend jumped down the steps two at a time. He could not believe the change in him. Jake’s powers of recovery must be truly amazing. Jake quickly got into the vehicle beside him.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Peter, as he selected first gear and took off down the street.

  ‘Bloody marvellous. That’s the best sleep I’ve had in God knows how long,’ Jake replied.

  ‘How are the feet?’ enquired Peter.

  ‘They’ve been better… should be okay in a day or two. Are we taking the scenic route or what?’ Jake asked, quickly changing the subject.

  ‘No, straight down the motorway. I thought you’d have looked at enough scenery over the past few days to last you a lifetime. Anyway, you can’t see anything in the dark,’ said Peter, manoeuvring the car through the dark deserted streets.

  ‘Didn’t you know? I can see in the dark, it’s in my CV,’ said Jake sarcastically. Peter glanced at him and replied quietly under his breath,

  ‘Yeah, I’ll bet you can.’

  ‘Anyway, you can never ever tire of looking at beautiful things in this life. Christ, there aren’t that many of them around so if you’re lucky enough to find something you should hang onto it with everything you’ve got,’ Jake said, thinking out loud. It was good to get back to London but this time there was going to be no sight-seeing. No buying of postcards to send home to loved ones, no shopping trips down Oxford Street. This morning they drove straight to Westminster One and H.Q.

  Jake very rarely saw the front of the building. Their personnel always entered through the underground car park and down to their secure area. Using the front door too often would lead to familiarity and someone would eventually ask who the fuck the people in the basement were. No, it was better that no one knew of their existence. No one, of course, except Sir Thomas Ellis, head of Military Intelligence. But then he was their source. This was Jake’s first time back here for some time, but it looked just as he remembered it. He was greeted with friendship by some old faces from the past, and with some suspicion by new ones. Suzy Grover gave Jake an overly long hug as they greeted each other in the communications room. Jake kissed her on the cheek but he missed the movement in her stomach as it rotated wildly.

  The place looked very much the same as it did when he had left two years earlier. They entered the briefing room; the smell of coffee could have put you on your back. Around the large oak table in the centre of the room sat the people Jake knew well. Harrison and Grant at the far end, and when eye contact was made with his old linkman, they nodded slightly… it was all that was needed. Sitting at right angles to both men were James McDowell on the right and Sir Thomas Ellis, MI5 chief executive officer, on the left. Briefings that included these people only ever happened when the shit had already, or was about to, hit the revolving blades. Grant beckoned Jake and Peter to take seats as he opened the file and began.

  ‘Gentlemen, I don’t have time for pleasantries, so I’ll just cut the crap and give you what we’ve got. In your area there has been a lot of activity by a new and very dangerous group of drug manufacturers who we believe are now ready to move into other fields. They are in two different locations, both isolated and both well guarded. These people believe they are untouchable and they have been getting somewhat bolder recently. We are getting worried that if they are cornered they will kill… without hesitation. The main factory is in the centre of Abaline Moor and we think they are moving a large consignment at the end of next week. We think it is being moved into one of the large cities for distribution, but we can’t move until it reaches its final destination. We have to be ready soon, as the factory will wind down after the load has left. We believe they are going to attempt something new… something different.

  ‘We don’t know exactly what it is right now but we have been watching them very closely and have identified one or two possibilities, all of them closer to your location than you think. As soon as we know, you’ll know.’ Grant turned to Colonel Harrison. ‘Derek,’ he said. Harrison looked up from his papers.

  ‘Both of the locations lie within a fifteen-kilometre radius of Denholme Gully… it’s very hilly so there are no comms between them. Mobiles don’t work and there are no landlines. The only way they can co
mmunicate is by motorbike. It is a very rough ride but they have a runner who travels between them when he has to. If he’s on the move between houses when you start, Jake, it’s going to be a fucking nightmare. He needs watching closely, as they all do. They’re heavily armed - machine pistols, handguns and even phosphorous grenades. These are serious people and if they leave the factory and take their arsenal into town then we will be in deep shit. A lot of innocent people could get killed.’ Peter glanced round and tried to gauge Jake’s reaction… he didn’t flinch. Harrison continued.

  ‘We think you may need some help on this one, Jake. That’s why we wanted to brief you both together… it may be better if Peter’s with you.’ The room fell silent and all waited for Jake’s answer. A few seconds passed and Jake turned to Grant, raising both eyebrows. Grant answered for him.

  ‘Okay, forget it… but, just in case you need him for anything, at least keep him close by. We don’t want you out there with up to a dozen targets completely on your own.’

  Jake turned and looked at Peter then returned his gaze to his old boss…a slight nod of his head and Grant sighed with relief.

  Harrison continued.

  ‘We will give you location grids and further information before you leave. Anything other than that you’ll get through the normal channels. Hopefully you should be ready to move in about a week or so… is that long enough?’

  ‘It’s long enough,’ Jake said, and the tension inside the briefing room suddenly became a little easier. Sir Thomas Ellis, who until now had sat listening intently to every word, suddenly spoke.

  ‘Listen, Jake, this one is not going to be easy. In fact, we have less intelligence on this one than practically any other one you have done in the past. The terrain between the houses is quite rough. We know you can do it but it’s the timescale between them. If you hit one and the runner gets to the others on his bike before you, then they are most probably going to be waiting for you. We have already thought about using a helicopter to ferry you between them but that’s been ruled out because of the noise. There is only a single track twisting and turning throughout the whole area. We decided it is probably going to be easier and quicker tabbing between the target houses. Jake, remember this…it is most important that they are kept in the area at all times. Major Harrison has said if they get into town all our arses will be in the firing line and that’s something we can all do without.’