by Brian Cain
CHAPTER THREE
Unbeknown to Bella, Rose and Louise, Stanton was two doors away in Pimlico, held up in a bunker beneath the terraced houses, he and Hurst surrounded by lap top computers and screens, sat at the same table as Albert Hollis. Hollis was there against his will, he thought being hidden beneath a veil of safety to be rather heavy handed. Stanton listened to the ancient voice of wisdom with due respect. Hollis adjusted his glasses, he looked over them at Stanton, he looked back to the paperwork Hurst had handed him to study. "This is all very well John, by my own stealth it may reflect guilt to some degree when considered by my allies and peers, exactly what do you expect to achieve by withdrawing me from the very area I can be of use."
Stanton sipped at a coffee while he studied incoming data before him, occasionally looking up at Albert's face. "Suppose I'm guilty of nothing more than love Albert, you think I would let anything happen to you, I'm waiting for contact."
"My time is nearly over John, will you not grant me the right to die in battle."
Stanton chuckled. "Nice try Albert."
"Contact from whom John?"
"If I knew I wouldn't be waiting."
Hurst talking on his mobile away from conversation suddenly turned to Stanton. "John, your daughter Lola called, she is trying to contact you urgently." Stanton picked up his satellite phone and pressed a few buttons, Hurst walked over to the table. "John, are you patching into the public network."
"Yes I am Bruce."
"Is that wise?"
"Id say it was essential, wise, probably not."
"Lo love, princess, how ar...."
"Don't you Lo love me dad, where the hell are you, mum is...."
"Being admitted for surgery and is displaying the most unusual conduct, she doesn't remember some things, or people."
"Well yes, how..."
"She will be fine after the surgery, now you didn't call to talk about mum, we did that only yesterday and nothing has changed."
"A man called Reichmann called looking Winston Blake, something about Flaxmead, I was worried about him being an aggressor, and do you know this man."
"Yes I do love."
"I put him onto Winston and he wants Flaxmead to run at Ascot again, Winston spoke to a man called, hang on let me read my notes again, em Roland Stillwell."
"Bingo."
"Dad, mum is sick, a man is looking for Flaxmead and you're playing bloody bingo."
Stanton chuckled. "Yes, em sorry love, I was overwhelmed by a full house."
"What are you going to do?"
"You just run the business and look after mum, when she has her surgery and comes good I'll be straight back."
"Are you with that Bella bitch mum speaks of?"
"No, not currently love."
"You bloody well keep away from her, mum has been telling me about her and another woman called Rose."
"Oh Rose Blake love."
"Dad, don't patronise me you know what Rose I'm talking about."
"Mum's not well; give her some slack when she engages in flamboyant fantasy."
"If I find out what she's been saying plus some of her diary notes are true you have some explaining to do father."
"Fine, I shall answer to you and your mother when the time comes and everything will be fine. I want nothing of your mothers conduct while she's like this relayed back to her."
"Dad, there is no way I'm telling my mother what she's been doing, you can do that. One of those young men propositioned me the other day."
"Well you are attractive."
"Dad."
There was an awkward silence. "This thing about Blake and Flaxmead I'll get straight onto it, don't worry Flaxmead is not going to Ascot again unless I'm right beside him."
"Thank goodness, I wish mum would get well I hate doing her job."
"Sit tight love and should anything serious happen I'll be straight home."
"I'll ring Mr Blake and tell him I spoke to you."
"Ask Mr Blake for a story around, should Flaxmead return to Ascot and can he win again."
"Will that help?"
"It'll sell papers."
"I'll talk to thingy, em."
"Sports journalist Terry Whistler, knows more about Flaxmead than anyone else at the paper."
"Oh, yes, thanks dad, talk soon." Stanton put the phone down. He turned to Hurst. "Get down to Carstairs Brandon and Wolverbrower, see Reichmann."
"He not long came out of a meeting with Roland Stillwell, rang your daughter nearly immediately, you were right."
"Jasmine Jackal, otherwise known as Maria Verona Sabbotini. Father, Giuseppe Romulus Sabbotini."
"Worked for Jodi, was her right hand."
"Yes."
"What's the connection?"
"Sabbotini, Sicilian mafia boss."
"He buys a lot of race horses, when Jodi got shot of Jackal and Hedley Pike Reichmann's access to information was cut."
"Stillwell, government minister on the board of the Ascot race committee."
"Trades in horses for Arab conglomerates."
"I'll go see Reichmann, if he suggests we meet with Stillwell."
"It would be very interesting."
"Stillwell could be the one laundering the Middle Eastern money."
"Francesco had military hardware when I killed him and was bum buddies with Sabbotini."
Hurst picked up his jacket hanging over the back of a chair and headed for the door. "I'll bring Reichmann here."
"Or both if we're right." Hurst left.
Albert aired his opinion. "That's a long shot."
"Not as long as you think Albert, two Australian politicians are missing, Jean Forbes and Sandra Lovington. I've traced Lovington's activities to Idris Nasih and Jean Forbes husband is a German, Rudolph Forbes, he's been working with Reichmann for years. Karl Spencer once an Australian attorney general has also proved hard to track down, he's linked to Middle Eastern contacts of interest."
"I thought you were looking for Brannigan's killers?"
"I am, but while people are covering their arses about that, they are becoming complacent about far more serious matters."
"I thought Brannigan's death was the most serious matter you were tackling."
Stanton smiled across the table and grabbed Albert's hand warmly. "You can go back to work now Albert."
"Why the sudden change of heart."
"Because Brannigan isn't dead."
"What, the man was buried with full military honours."
"And the aristocracy, mafia and Arabs did exactly what I thought they would, broke ranks and looked for the killers, they didn't know who they could trust."
"Good lord, brilliant, you're ageing like me John, what will we do when you get to my age."
"I've thought about this Albert, so much that I confide something that only I know. You have no doubt heard the rumours of John Stanton junior."
"A son born of Bella."
"Yes."
"You're telling me it's true."
"Yes I am."
"Many have searched for this boy including MI to verify the truth, you say this boy lives."
"Yes, and he's no boy. The operative code named Greywolf, you are aware of this person."
"He has often been searched for as a double agent, no one has seen this operative that I know of, you suggesting Greywolf is your son, John, born of Bella."
"As you age Albert, don't despair, the next John Stanton will be cloaked in such secrecy none shall see him, those who do will never live to tell the tale. Even Bella has been starved of her son's company for some years now. She verbally attacked me about it recently, she suspects the truth."
"The recent attempt on my life, the convoy on Tower Bridge, the man in grey, he took me from the jaws of death, I never saw his face."
"Wasn't an attempt on your life Albert, was the assassination of a dangerous Arab politician, with control of the media the public is none the wiser."
"The Israeli ambassador, you assassinated him."
"
My son took him out, Greywolf."
"I was in danger, you gambled my life."
"There's a lot of difference between a gamble and a calculated risk."
Albert forced a laugh. "Humph, I thought the man was steadfast."
"Greywolf recovered the Polaris plans from his brief case."
"Well that's incredible, I can't believe it."
"I had problems believing it myself, until my son produced the evidence, he proceeded on his own intelligence."
"He uses your network."
"To some degree although we have separate hardware it can integrate if necessary. It's set up like that for a good reason, my son nor I are immune to some truth serums or methods of interrogation. You can't reveal what you don't know."
"Then I can return to work a free man, the sword of the cross covers my back."
"Others may not see it that way, we have many enemies, you should think of more leisurely pastimes."
"John, John, I have died many times and been lifted from the jaws of death by the very man I see before me. You think I would desert you for the comfort of old age."
"It's because we do what we do that you are free too choose."
"Can you arrange for my transport to Whitehall?"
"Black Range Rover at the end of the tunnel, I know you well Albert."
Albert slowly stood and walked toward the tunnel, he turned. "How's your wife John, I hear she's poorly."
"Benin brain tumour, her behaviour is quite erratic, she's having surgery soon."
"I hope she recovers."
"Thanks, the experience has brought home to me how Bella feels."
"Good lord, really."
"Age, experience and wisdom come with its own drawbacks."
Albert nodded. "Indeed." He shuffled away closing the door quietly behind him.