“It may have taken them too long to activate a GPS trace,” Terry said. “They would have needed to go through the provider, possibly even obtain a warrant.”
I was still looking at Melissa, and I saw something flicker across her face. “Is that it, do you think, Mel?” I said. “Or could there be another reason.”
She took a breath. She could barely bring herself to look at either of us. “No. No, that’s not it,” she said. “I got scared. My head was reeling. I remembered reading about how a phone could still be traced even if it was switched off, so I slipped the battery out. I only put it back when we left the hotel.”
I had been certain there was something more, something Melissa had not revealed. I could not figure her out. At times, she appeared to be actively working against us. What she said about being wary of me, and then Terry, all made perfect sense. Yet so did the notion that she was part of all this somehow. Whatever this was.
“I think it best if you go spend some time with Charlie,” Terry told her. “Mike and I need to discuss this alone.”
Melissa looked from me to him and back again. She lowered her head. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” she said in a soft whisper. “I really had no idea what I was getting us into.”
“We deal with it,” Terry told her. His voice was neither gentle nor harsh. “We can’t change what’s done. So, we’ll handle it.”
“‘We can’t change what’s done’,” I echoed when it was just the two of us again. “Nice philosophy, Terry. And accurate of course. But if I was afraid before, now I’m bloody terrified. I still can’t quite believe you deliberately wanted to lure them here.”
He stood, walked to the sink and rinsed out his mug. He peered out of the window for a second or two before speaking. “How did you imagine all this panning out, Mike? Did you think it would all just disappear provided we lie low for a while? Did you imagine putting your head in the sand for a day or two and then when you pulled it out again everything would have righted itself?”
“Honestly? Of course not. But after what happened back in Peterborough, I really did feel the need to regroup and take some time figuring out a plan. I thought we would do that together at the very least.”
“You’re annoyed with me.”
“I am.” I was. I felt more than a little betrayed. He had tossed a coin and not afforded me the opportunity of calling one way or the other. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, how I really imagined our working relationship to go down. I had thought I would get a say in how we did things. Offer my opinion at the very least.
Terry came back to the table to clean up the liquid spills I had caused. As he soaked them up and wiped them away he said, “Mike, you called me to come and help you out of a jam. I always told you that when you called I would come. I have no problem with that. But when I help, I do it my way.”
I licked my lips. As usual they were bone dry. “I understand that, Terry. You’re the professional, the one with the expertise. I accepted that you would have overall control of the situation. Still, I had also expected you to discuss options before putting them into operation.”
Terry was unapologetic. He explained to me that we could have taken all the time in the world, and still the outcome would have been inevitable. We had ruled out throwing me at the mercy of the authorities, because then the system would have had me in its clutches, and Hendricks would have had me wrapped up in a nice neat package just waiting for a bow. We had also ruled out trying to arrange some sort of deal with Dawson, because the original problem remained and needed to be dealt with. What took place back at the safe house meant that whatever was going on had taken a significant step up, not back down. The only remaining solution was confrontation.
“Fair enough,” I said. “But are we really in the best shape to sit here and wait for them to show? We could have kept on the move.”
“Whether it’s people working with Hendricks, some sort of NCA hit squad, or persons unknown, these people will not back down and walk away. Especially not now we’ve put four of their own down. With or without Melissa’s phone, these people would find us. I know this, Mike, because I could easily have been one of them. Trust me, our only advantage is to tackle it head on and on our own terms.”
“And what exactly are our terms?” I demanded.
Terry took a moment before explaining. “Right now, they believe they can come and get us as and when they like. That we have no idea they are coming. And they will send their best men next time. More of them, too. Only way we turn that around in our favour is to make our own plans and be ready for them. Keeping on the move is not a valid alternative in my view. Not in the long run. I have something in mind, and as soon as I’ve ironed out a few wrinkles in my plan, you and I will go over it. Together this time.”
I ran both hands down the side of my stubbled face. “I do understand what you mean, mate. And I am grateful to you, although it may not sound like it right now. It just feels as if you’ve drawn them on far more quickly than suits us. Or, to be more accurate, suits me. And Mel and Charlie for that matter.”
“You think I should have snatched the phone off her back in Peterborough. Removed the battery, taken some time before switching it back on to alert them? Given us time to discuss it.”
“That’s exactly what I think.”
Terry nodded. “I considered it, Mike. In my opinion, the more time we give them the better it is for them, not us. They have already sent one team. At some point, shortly after that team went unintentionally dark, they would have sent a second team to recon. Assembling a second team would have taken time. Then they would have had to travel. Once there, they evaluate, recon, then give the green light for further action. Eventually they breach and find their colleagues.”
“And then they’ll know I didn’t put them down on my own,” I said.
Terry shrugged. “What of it? Whether it was you, someone else, or a combination of the two, they won’t make the same mistake again. They underestimated their targets. That was a onetime only opportunity for us. If I had planned for that, things might have been different. The main thing is, that entire reaction I just described on their part will have taken time. I sincerely doubt they even have a team on site yet. We have plenty of time to get this right. And yes, they will realise that you now have someone fighting your cause. That will throw them. All plans go to shit at first contact with the enemy, you know that as well as I do. But now they will be more defensive. That can only play into our hands.”
I shook my head. “Hold on a moment. If they are tracking the phone then they will have seen it on the move, away from the previous location. Why would they waste time going there?”
“Because they have no idea what took place there. They have the GPS, so they can pick that up as and when they need it. But they have to find out what happened back at the first safehouse before actioning something else. For all they know, we tossed the phone onto the back of a lorry to lure them away.”
I started to respond again, but it was a lost cause. If Terry’s decision was in any way damaging, then that damage was already done. It was out of my control. What happened next was the only thing that mattered now. I looked at my friend and forced a thin smile.
“It’s good to be working with you again, Marine,” I said.
Terry raised a thumb. “You too, my friend. Per mare, per terram, right?”
My smile broadened. “By sea, by land” is the Royal Marines motto. I nodded. “Fucking right,” I said.
The only correct response.
30
The sun was rising fast and the heat was rippling across the land that lay beyond the entrance to the farmhouse. It stretched out into the distance, flat and brown, for about a mile, before a collar of gorse introduced the rise of a hillside, ascending so gradually it was hard to tell whether the incline was more trick of the eye than a geographic feature. Lush woodland to the left and right was edged by waist-height log fencing, unpainted
yet sturdy.
It was a beautiful day, and I had a glorious view to occupy my mind. Yet it was unappreciative of such splendour, dwelling instead on our predicament and the tragedies which had contrived to lead us here. I was afraid. For Charlie, Mel, even Terry and myself. More than that, I remained overwhelmed by grief. Eyes closed or open, I saw Susan at the moment her life had ended. There was no blinking that away, no amount of sleep capable of eradicating the numbness crawling through my body. Had it not been for my absolute desire for vengeance, I’m sure I would have shut down completely.
People were coming.
One of them had murdered my friend.
Of that I was certain.
I turned away from the view offered by the kitchen window. “If you were them, what would you be thinking?” I asked Terry.
He sat at the table, considering that for a few seconds. “I would be puzzled. Intrigued. Perhaps even a little concerned. No offence, Mike, but even if they were aware of your military service, four well-trained men with the benefit of surprise ought to have been enough.”
“Still, they can’t be certain what happened.”
“No. They might wonder if Melissa gave them up, in which case you might not have been as unprepared as they believed. Even so, four against one is a win for them. So, they’ll suspect you had help. They will want to know who owned that property, and this one when they come looking.”
“What will they find?”
“Nothing in land registry, census, electoral role. Nothing to point them in my direction, that is. Which will leave them guessing. Something they will not like one little bit.”
I followed Terry’s logic, finding no fault with it. “So, if you are them, what do you do next? How will they approach this new situation compared to the last? You said before you thought with more and better men, yes?”
He stretched out his legs, seemingly perfectly relaxed. I wondered if he was as at ease with his decisions as he appeared. “At a minimum,” he replied. “They will take longer to plan this time, and plan well. They will want to recce the land ahead of any strike, though I doubt they will try to do the same with the house. They will want to wait for the cover of darkness, maybe only twilight.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “We’re talking perhaps twelve or thirteen hours from now, but that may be too long for them. It’s a big risk allowing the status quo for that length of time. Is the op time sensitive? We don’t know for sure, but probably. Every hour lost is an hour in which you might call in the police, but I would rule that out as you’ve had ample opportunity to take that path.”
“So, what does your gut tell you, mate?”
“My feeling is they will put in place a well-defined plan, put in place personnel early, aiming for the late stages of twilight to come at us, but anticipating the go command at any time.”
“What might make them jump the gun?”
“Movement. If they see that phone move again they will act.”
I nodded, thinking it through. “It’s a long time to be out there,” I said. “In the daylight, relative open ground to the front at least.”
“And rear to a certain degree,” Terry added. “There’s a river that marks the end of the property. On the other bank it’s mostly flat fields.”
“So, they have that against them, plus the waiting time.”
“Yes, but they are also professionals. They will be modifying as they go, looking for a way in much earlier if possible. But it’s a clean, bright day, with cover only from the sides. If they come before dusk they’ll have to come hard and fast, and that’s a risk I doubt they will take.”
“So, if they are not going to do anything for the next dozen hours or so, are we?”
He flashed a rakish grin. “Now that, my friend, is a really good question.”
The single-storey building on the corner of Finchley Road and Queens Grove in north-west London, had once been a recognisable landmark in its days as a bar and restaurant serving cuisine from Peking. At one time, it had been named Lords Rendezvous, in reference to the nearby cricket ground. Now its tall, mullioned windows were boarded up as it awaited yet another transformation. The one thing it was unlikely to ever be again was a London Underground station. Marlborough Road, a Metropolitan line station, was closed together with Lords station in 1939 when the new St John’s Wood deep-level Bakerloo station opened.
In part exposed to the elements, yet entirely hidden from view to any passer-by, the building’s dereliction had led to decades of abuse from local youths. No window remained unbroken, no door on its hinges, and it was virtually impossible to find a section of wall that had not fallen victim to the blight of graffiti.
As Simon Faulkener made his way towards the slim figure of Allison Cooper, the peer of the realm with oversight of the UK intelligence community, he regarded the artwork with a neutral detachment. Whilst he failed to see any genuine harm in disfiguring something that could not be seen without a great deal of effort, neither could he imagine how anyone could get a thrill from debasing these walls with crude tags. It was one of many things he didn’t understand about the younger generation, despite being only in his early forties himself.
Department D-150 exists only unofficially. A Home Office department whose officers worked for both MI5 the Intelligence Service - and MI6, the Secret Intelligence Service. D-150 staff were responsible for organising and managing covert, undercover and clandestine operations both domestically and abroad. Allison Cooper had been involved for the past two years, having herself moved into the House of Lords from SIS. Meetings between Cooper and her operatives were held just about anywhere other than the Home Office room that bears their departmental name on the door. When official meetings have to take place, they do so within the walls of the architecturally remarkable building at Vauxhall Cross a building referred to within Intelligence Services as Legoland, which houses MI6 or the newly refurbished home to MI5 at Thames House.
But this was an unofficial meeting. With a private security operative. And such meetings were held in very different locations; none of them official
Approximately two hours earlier, Faulkener had surveyed the room in which the bodies of four men he had commanded now lay lifeless on the floor. Four men, eight shots. Not a bullet wasted. He bit down on his anger. Consistently being at least one step behind the game had caused his plans to go awry for a second time now, and he was neither used to nor accepting of failure. It was at that point that Faulkener began to wonder for the first time just exactly who Mike Lynch was.
Still gazing down at fallen comrades, he had punched in a call. “It’s me,” he said when the line was connected. “We have another problem. Worse this time. Much worse.” He had gone on to outline the situation, and to make his demands for information. Arriving at the meet, he had expected to find Hedgeman, the man with whom he had been dealing up until now. Upon seeing the Baroness herself, Faulkener immediately began to feel uneasy.
They shook hands. He had met Cooper on two previous occasions, yet once again he was struck by her sheer presence. Elegant without being showy, she wore a crimson jacket over a navy-blue dress that showed off great legs and a full bust. The woman oozed class and sexuality.
“Baroness,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she responded. Her Oxford-bred, Oxford-educated voice matched the stature of her appearance. “However, I was not at all convinced that our esteemed Chief Hedgeman had managed to convey the seriousness of this operation to you. I came here today to put that right.”
Faulkener bristled at her comment and stood his ground. “I wouldn’t say I was unaware of the serious nature of the op, Baroness. More that the ops themselves have been rushed, and clearly, I have not been provided with enough relevant information. Or time, for that matter.”
Cooper smiled. She stepped close enough so that Faulkener could smell her perfume. “Oh, Simon. What’s all this Baroness nonsense. Last time we met I had the distinct impression that we had becom
e good friends.”
He shook his head and laughed. “I didn’t know if you were wired. Or, for that matter, whether your security detail might be close enough to be listening. Didn’t want to appear too chummy.”
She dismissed the observation with a single shake of her head. “Oh, they watched you on your way in, and they will watch you on your way out, Simon. Only the very best get to be my close-quarter protection. But they won’t care about any lack of formality. How are you, by the way?”
“I’m good. And you?”
“Very well, thank you. How’s Kathy and the boys?”
“All healthy. And your husband?”
“Still impotent, unfortunately.”
Faulkener breathed her in. Wide eyes, grey with flecks of green. Tanned, healthy skin for a woman nudging fifty, stark ruby red lipstick, blonde hair cut stylishly short. He licked his lips. “You know, when I saw you just now, I thought I might be walking into my last ever meeting?” he said.
“Really? As if we would dream of doing such a thing.” A smile tugged at the corners of that glorious mouth once more.
“Cut the crap, Allison. Don’t string this out if that’s what you have planned. It would surely demean us both.”
She pursed those lips. “Hmm, I don’t see how it would demean me, Simon. But I take your point. No more silly buggers. So, let me assure you that today you get to walk away. It would be advisable, however, if you contained the situation by the end of it. There are others involved who take a less charitable view than I.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” He had won a reprieve, but was on borrowed time. “So, I requested an in-depth background analysis on Lynch. Do you have that for me.”
“I do. The only item of note is that he spent three years as a commando in the Royal Marines.”
Scream Blue Murder: an action-packed thriller Page 20