‘How much is this going to cost?’ asked O’Brien.
‘Let me find out what we can arrange, then we’ll discuss the cost,’ answered Harper.
O’Brien nodded at him. ‘Call us when you have a date. But we don’t pay anything until we’ve seen one go bang.’
‘Deal,’ said Harper. He told the two Billys to run them back to their hotel.
‘What do you think?’ Zelda asked as they watched the SUV drive away. ‘Will they come back?’
‘For sure,’ said Harper. ‘They want what we’ve got.’
‘And you’re going to let them take the Katyushas to Ireland? You know the damage they can do, Lex?’
‘They won’t get anywhere near Ireland, trust me. They’ll be stopped at the docks in Germany. Maximum publicity, maximum embarrassment, but we’ll have our money so all’s good.’
‘We could have just taken the money off them today.’
‘Fifty grand? That’s nothing. There’s more to come, Zelda. And this isn’t just about the money. There’s more going on here.’
‘I don’t suppose you’d tell me,’ she said, and laughed.
‘I could tell you,’ said Harper. ‘But then I’d have to kill you.’
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. ‘When some people say that, they’re joking.’
Harper grinned and pinched her arm gently. ‘So am I,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘I’m not so sure,’ she said. ‘So I’d rather not know.’
He laughed out loud and hugged her. Then he took out the 50,000 euros and gave them to her. ‘Here, have this on account.’
‘You’re a sweetheart, Lex,’ she said, and kissed him on the cheek.
Shepherd had arranged to meet Jimmy Sharpe in the Prince Albert pub, on Albert Bridge Road, a ten-minute walk from his flat. Sharpe was perched on a stool by the bar and Shepherd joined him. Sharpe was already halfway through a pint of lager and Shepherd slipped on to the adjoining stool and ordered a Jameson with ice and soda from a barman.
‘Thanks for coming,’ said Shepherd, clapping Sharpe on the back.
‘No problem,’ said Sharpe. ‘I’ve not much on at the moment anyway. Mainly admin. So is this about the Liam thing?’
‘No. I’ve had to put that on hold, but if all goes to plan I’ll be in to see the Leeds cops on Monday. This is something else.’
‘I’m all ears.’
Shepherd’s drink arrived and he took a sip before quickly filling in Sharpe about his meeting with Willoughby-Brown. Sharpe listened in silence, but by the time Shepherd had finished his brow was furrowed and he was staring at him in amazement.
‘Bloody hell, that’s a turn-up for the books,’ said Sharpe once Shepherd had finished. ‘But I have to say, I’ve never trusted the fragrant Ms Button.’ He drained his glass and waved at the barman for a replacement.
‘She’s been a good boss,’ said Shepherd. ‘Always had my back.’
‘Because you’ve always done exactly what she wanted. Plus she needs you.’
Shepherd shrugged. ‘You never really liked her though, to be fair.’
‘Because I never fell for her charms.’
‘But I did, is that what you mean?’
‘You did tend to be a lovesick puppy around her,’ said Sharpe. He held up his hands when he saw the angry look flash across Shepherd’s face. ‘Don’t take offence, I just meant you were always closer to her than I was.’
‘She’s been a good boss, Razor, and now I’m supposed to betray her.’
‘From what you’ve said, all they want you to do is contact Harper and get him to come clean.’
‘It sounds simple enough, I know. But she’s my boss. And a friend.’
‘So tell her what’s going on.’
‘I can’t say anything to her, Willoughby-Brown has made sure of that. The DG is watching over my shoulder, if I try anything like that they’ll hang me out to dry.’
‘You could just tell Willoughby-Brown to go fuck himself.’
‘And then what?’
‘The Met will always have you back at the drop of the proverbial hat. And the National Crime Agency would snap you up.’ The barman put Sharpe’s pint down in front of him and Sharpe nodded his thanks.
‘If it was just Willoughby-Brown then maybe,’ said Shepherd. ‘But this is official now. The problem is that if I refuse to help them then they can get me for obstruction of justice or even conspiracy. Hell’s bells, it could even be considered treason. And if I try to warn Charlie then at the very least it’ll be a breach of the Official Secrets Act. That would mean prison, and after that no one would touch me with a bargepole.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m between a rock and a hard place.’
Sharpe grunted and sipped his pint.
‘That bastard Willoughby-Brown has had it in for me for years. And that’s despite the fact that I helped haul his nuts out of the fire last year.’
Sharpe raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
‘One of his assets got caught on the Pakistan–Afghanistan border and I went into rescue him,’ said Shepherd. ‘Almost bought it myself, and this is the way he shows his gratitude. It stinks, Razor.’
‘Yeah, well you know as well as I do that these days it’s every man for himself. It’s the same in the cops.’ He took another pull on his pint, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘I just wanted to tell someone, that’s all. But even telling you is a breach of the Official Secrets Act. I don’t know, Razor. It’s burning me up inside and I just wanted to share.’
‘I don’t have to hug you, do I?’
Shepherd chuckled. ‘No, that’d be above and beyond.’
‘Because I will, if it’ll help.’
‘You’re an idiot. But thanks.’ Shepherd leaned over and clinked his glass against Sharpe’s. ‘I’m going to have to work this out myself.’
‘What’s your plan?’
Shepherd sighed. ‘Willoughby-Brown wants me to go over and talk to Harper in Berlin. I have to go. And I’ll have to talk to him. But other than that …’ He shrugged. ‘I just hate going behind Charlie’s back.’
‘Like you said, you don’t have a choice.’
‘Yeah, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about it.’
‘If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else.’
‘I bloody well wish Willoughby-Brown had gone to someone else.’
‘He picked you because you’re close to her, I suppose.’
‘To be honest, it’s because Harper’s a friend. Lex isn’t the sort of guy who takes kindly to strangers. I’m assuming Willoughby-Brown knows that.’
‘What’s Harper’s story?’
‘He was a spotter with me in Afghanistan. He was a youngster then, with the paras. He could have joined the regiment, no question, but he chose the dark path.’
‘The what?’
‘He took to crime, like a duck to water. Armed robbery at first and then he moved on to trafficking. Marijuana, mainly.’
‘And this guy’s a mate?’
‘We go back a long way. It’s not as if we hang out, I see him once in a blue moon. But other than the fact he’s a career criminal, he’s a good guy. So yeah, he’s a mate. Doubt he’d offer me a hug, though.’
‘And do you think he’ll turn on Charlie?’
‘I don’t know. Like me, he’ll be between a rock and a hard place. And they really could put him away for a long time, if they wanted. Lex is careful, but if they put the full resources of MI5 on him, he wouldn’t last long.’
‘In a way that’d be the best thing all round,’ said Sharpe. ‘If he gives evidence against her, you’ll be well out of it.’
‘I’ll still be the one who betrayed her,’ said Shepherd.
‘You’re going to have to stop beating yourself up about this,’ said Sharpe. ‘If she’s done what they’re saying she’s done, she’s only getting what’s coming to her. You’re just the messenger.’
‘I doubt she’ll see it
that way,’ said Shepherd. He downed his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar. ‘I think I’m going to get drunk, Razor, and I’d appreciate your company.’
‘I’m here for the duration,’ said Sharpe. ‘So long as you’re paying.’
Harper booked the suite next to his for Hansfree and Zelda to use as a base. They went to work on his laptop, researching in the BRIXMIS files for any weapon ranges that the Bundeswehr might be using to test fire rockets like Katyushas. Within a few hours they had come up with the answer.
‘Just as we thought,’ said Zelda, ‘the Bundeswehr have a large stockpile of Katyushas, and according to the BRIXMIS files the only range in the whole of Germany where they can be safely fired is the one on the Letzlinger Heide, north of Magdeburg. Luckily the BRIXMIS files contain details of the location of an observation post – an old hide overlooking the firing range that the BRIXMIS agents used to observe Soviet weapons’ tests and Warsaw Pact manoeuvres during the Cold War.’
Hansfree nodded. ‘All we have to do is establish when the Bundeswehr are next going to be carrying out a test firing of a Katyusha and then get O’Brien and Walsh in position to watch it.’
‘How do we do that?’ asked Harper.
Hansfree grinned. ‘My five-year-old niece could penetrate the Bundeswehr’s regular signals traffic and there’s no reason why they would go to top secret encrypted mode when talking about routine firing tests and exercises. They might even circulate a schedule – “green armies” often do that so that interested parties from other branches of the armed forces can send observers.’
‘Brilliant,’ Harper said. ‘See what you can find out, together with anything else you can discover about the range and the surrounding area, and meanwhile, I’ll send the two Billys and Maggie May to do some ground reconnaissance.’
Harper phoned Maggie May and gave her directions to the firing range, then went down to the bar for a couple of beers while he waited for Hansfree and Zelda to work their magic. In less than an hour his mobile phone rang.
‘Good news,’ said Zelda. ‘There’s a test firing in two days. Saturday.’
‘And that’s definite?’
‘Hansfree managed to get sight of an email from the commander of the Bundeswehr Artillerietruppe – that’s the unit which is actually carrying out the test firing,’ she said. ‘And the confirmation of that is that the range officer has helpfully posted a list of scheduled firings with their dates on the range’s website. I guess so that the locals aren’t taken unawares.’
Harper grinned. ‘Excellent.’ He phoned O’Brien at his hotel and told him to prepare for a demonstration on Saturday. ‘And don’t forget to get the money in place,’ he said. ‘This has been dragging on long enough.’
Willoughby-Brown had at least done the decent thing and booked Shepherd a business class flight to Berlin Tegel airport. He was through immigration in a matter of minutes and as he only had a carry-on bag, he was driving into Berlin less than an hour after the plane had landed. Shepherd had booked a room at the Berlin Marriott, a ten-minute walk from the Brandenburg Gate. He checked in and phoned Harper’s number.
‘Lex, how the hell are you? It’s Spider.’
‘How did you get this number, mate?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll explain when I see you. I need to see you, right away.’
‘I’m not in the UK.’
‘Yeah, I know that. I’m in Berlin.’
There was a short pause and Shepherd knew that Harper was wondering what the hell was going on. ‘That’s a coincidence,’ said Harper eventually, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
‘Obviously not,’ said Shepherd. ‘Look, I’m staying at the Marriott. Can you pop around? Beers are on me.’
‘I’ll call you back,’ said Harper, and the line went dead.
Shepherd couldn’t blame Harper for being suspicious. He just hoped he’d call back sooner rather than later. He tossed his phone on to the bed and picked up the room service menu. As Willoughby-Brown was paying, he figured he owed himself a decent steak and the most expensive wine on the menu.
Harper stared at his phone, deep creases across his forehead.
‘Problem?’ asked Zelda, looking up from the computer.
Harper forced a smile. ‘Just that an old friend has arrived in town unexpectedly,’ he said. He scratched his chin. ‘Very unexpectedly, as it happens.’
He phoned Maggie May. ‘I need to see you and the two Billys in reception, as soon as possible.’
‘We’re on our way,’ she said.
Harper ended the call and smiled at Zelda. ‘I’ve got to go out for a while,’ he said.
‘Anything I can help you with?’ she asked, sensing his unease.
‘I think it’s okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll soon know, one way or the other.’
Harper called back just as it was starting to get dark outside.
‘I thought you’d forgotten about me,’ said Shepherd.
‘Yeah, well, I’m in the middle of something,’ said Harper. ‘This isn’t the best time.’
‘It’s important, Lex. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.’
‘I get that. Right, so here’s how it’s going to go down. Do you know Tempelhofer Park?’
‘The former airport? Sure. It’s not far from my hotel.’
‘That’s the plan,’ said Harper. ‘I want you to turn left out of the hotel, then left and left again so that you go right around the block. Look like maybe you’re confused. Then head north to the park. Not far from the terminal building you’ll see a place on the airstrip where skateboarders hang out, doing their jumps and stuff. Hang around there.’
‘Why the cloak and dagger?’
‘Just humour me, mate. You’ll see me soon enough.’
The line went dead. Shepherd walked to the park, rehearsing what he was going to say to Harper. It was going to be a tough sell. Harper was very much his own man and a free agent, not the type who could be easily pressured. Shepherd was sure that was why Willoughby-Brown had chosen him to do the dirty work; at least Shepherd was a friendly face.
Tempelhofer had been a functioning airport until 2008. After it was closed the government couldn’t think of another use for it and eventually declared it a park for use by all. The main terminal building – constructed by the Nazis – had once been one of the twentieth largest buildings in the world. Shepherd pulled on his coat and went downstairs. He walked across the park to the skateboarding area and spent almost half an hour watching a group of grungy teenagers practising their art before taking out his phone and calling Harper. The call went straight through to voicemail. He waited another fifteen minutes and then walked back to his hotel.
Shepherd had been back in his hotel room for almost an hour before his mobile rang. It was Harper. He took the call. ‘What’s up, Lex? What was that little excursion about?’
‘Do you know you’re being followed?’
‘Don’t fuck with me, Lex, I’m not in the mood.’
‘I’m serious. Two guys. Pros. I mean, real pros. Both white, in their forties, look like they’ve been around the block.’
‘Heavies?’
‘Well they’re not choirboys, but they’re bloody good.’
‘If they’re that good, how come you spotted them?’
Harper laughed. ‘Because I’m better. Seriously, these guys are good. They never looked at you, not once. They’re obviously communicating but it’s not verbal, must be some sort of clicker system. So they’re not with you? They’re that relaxed I wondered if they had your back.’
‘Nothing to do with me,’ said Shepherd, his mind racing. How the hell had he not spotted a tail? Counter surveillance was second nature to him, and had been ever since he had started working undercover.
‘The big question of course is are they following you, or whoever you’re pretending to be?’ said Harper.
Shepherd had already realised that. Were his followers after him because he was Dan Shepherd, or were they tailing The Dane
? And if it was him rather than his legend, who had sent them? Was Willoughby-Brown checking up on him, confirming that he did actually contact Harper.
‘What do you want to do?’ asked Harper.
‘I dunno. Let me think.’
‘Yeah, well think all you want, mate. But there’s no way I can meet you with them around.’
‘I’ll shake them off.’
‘I don’t think it’ll be as simple as that, mate. Like I said, they’re good.’
‘Definitely only the two of them?’
‘Two that I’ve seen. But good point, maybe there are more and they’re even better. What’s the story, Spider?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Yeah, well I’m in the middle of something pretty fucking delicate here and I don’t want you fucking it up for me.’
‘I get that, Lex.’ He cursed under his breath. Was it Smit? Was Smit having him followed?
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Harper.
‘I’m listening.’
‘I’ll have them picked up and worked over. Find out who they are and we’ll take it from there.’
‘Are you up for that?’
‘Anything for a mate, you know that. And I’d like to reassure myself it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘I’m sure it isn’t.’
‘Yeah, well I’d prefer that from the horse’s mouth. You know, this would be a lot easier if you just told me why you wanted to meet.’
‘That’s got to be face to face. Has to be.’
‘You’ve been in the secret squirrel business for too long,’ said Harper. ‘Okay, I’ll set something up and get back to you.’
‘When?’ asked Shepherd, but the line had already gone dead. He sighed and tossed his phone on to the bed. The last thing he needed just now was a tail. But who the hell was it? And what did they want? Strictly speaking he should call Jeremy Willoughby-Brown but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, especially when the watchers could well be reporting back to him. He smiled to himself as he stared through the window out over the city. It was a funny old world where he trusted a criminal and supposed assassin more than an MI6 officer, but that’s the way it was.
Shepherd woke to the sound of his mobile ringing. It was Harper. ‘Wakey, wakey, rise and shine,’ he said.
Black Ops: The 12th Spider Shepherd Thriller Page 22