“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh’, exactly.” The Chief fell quiet for a moment. “Ignore me Emily… I just needed someone to vent at. I wish Ryan was here… I’d be making his ears bleed instead.”
“Me too, sir; wish that he was here, I mean.”
“Yes… of course. How is he? Have you heard anything?”
Emily shook her head. “Not since yesterday; been too wrapped-up in this ‘Dominic-ransoming-Meredith’ business, to be honest.”
“How is that progressing?”
Emily pulled out a chair and sat down. “Not too well.” Before the Westland Puma had dropped her off on a piece of land within Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens just a couple of streets behind the SIS building, Brayden had called her with an update regarding Meredith. “Dominic stabbed Sophie’s sister after the diamond exchange, thinking to use the distraction to safeguard his getaway. The ploy sure worked.”
“Is the girl going to be okay?”
Emily didn’t know. “She’s in a critical condition. Brayden said he thought they’d lost her at one point, but paramedics managed to resuscitate her.”
“And Sophie?”
“She’s fine… upset… angry. Of course, she blames herself.”
“What about Dominic?” asked the Chief, concerned. “I guess he’s made off with this diamond he coerced Sophie into stealing?”
“He has… but we have him in our sights. At least that part of the plan has not been compromised.” Emily told him about the surveillance drone currently tracking Dominic’s movement as his car moved speedily away from Edinburgh. “Mac is out there watching him right now. Hopefully, he’ll lead us to his base of operations.”
“And ALL that loot I’d surmise?”
“Yes, with a bit of luck.” She only sounded half-enthusiastic.
“That would promise a good end to a bad day,” said the Chief optimistically.
“Or, if you were Dominic Schilling, a bad end to a good day, sir.”
The time on her watch was 8:45 p.m. when Mac started making noises between mouthfuls of Domino’s pizza and swigging Dr Pepper behind her. There was only the younger analyst and herself still in the office, ‘Jezebel’ having both left together an hour earlier.
“What’s going on?” Emily asked, turning her head to the left, enough to peer across and above the partition separating her and Mac’s VDU. She could just see the analyst’s eyes.
“For the past three hours I’ve been following Dominic driving across Scotland. First along a stretch of the M9 which merged into the A84; after that at Lochearnhead he joined the A85, which he’s driven the entire length of, heading into a place called ‘Oban’.” The spy in the sky continued to beam green-screen images to Mac’s PC display. He tapped a couple of commands on the keyboard and the overhead camera zoomed in on the Mercedes.
“Oban?”
“Yea. He’s driving through the town centre and taking a number of turnings. It’s possible he’s checking to make sure no one is following; he seems to have gone in a circle a couple of times… either that…,” he was now thinking aloud, his voice losing timbre, “… or he’s lost.”
“I somewhat doubt that.” Emily stood up and walked around to her junior colleague, stooping down beside him to study the live video feed. “What’s in Oban?” she asked, mildly curious for Dominic’s choice.
“Not much… though it plays host to a lot of tourism, apparently; there are some castles and some ancient religious sites, and the scenery all around it looks stunning. There’s a ferry port which services the Hebrides; according to the tourist info, the place appears to be thriving.”
The surveillance drone continued to track the Mercedes as it left the clustered suburban streets of Oban and headed south-west of the town, passing a small railway station and joining a road mapped as Gallanach Road.
“Where… IS… he going?” Emily asked quietly. Mac didn’t attempt to guess. Instead, he sat silent, watching the vehicle move into an industrial estate, wending and winding around a series of turnings that moments later appeared to lead to a dead-end.
“There!” exclaimed Mac, pointing a chubby finger at the screen.
“What is it?”
Using the directional buttons on the keyboard, Mac positioned the surveillance drone camera to pan in further on the Mercedes as it continued a course along a narrow lane that headed towards a warehouse. “Could that be?”
“The base of operations?” Emily didn’t think so and was shaking her head. In the call with Brayden – after learning Dominic had buried a knife in Meredith’s back – she had been briefed on all that he’d managed to extract from the ten-year-old before she had lost consciousness. “I know it’s dark, but that place doesn’t fit Meredith’s description.” Meredith had indicated she had escaped from a big black warehouse onto a beach after passing a row of small houses and over a steep hill. Although the bay of Oban, the nearest coastal body of water, was close, this warehouse and its surrounding area did not match Meredith’s description.
“Where IS he going?”
The Mercedes slowed down to a crawl as it fell within the shadow of the industrial building coming to a brief stop, before surprising Emily and Mac by driving forward as though on a collision course with a boundary wall; except, instead of smashing into the warehouse, it disappeared within it.
“It could still be his place of operations… Where Meredith said she was being held captive, may just have been a hideout.” Without thought, Mac picked up a slice of pizza and bit a large chunk from it.
It could have been, Emily supposed. “Whatever this place is, I guess it’s the end of today’s journey,” said Emily. The time on her watch was now 9:03 p.m. She yawned. It had been a very long day and she felt the need for a rest. “Are you okay to continue monitoring the situation in case he leaves? I don’t want to lose him.”
“Sure,” replied Mac, feeling tired himself. “Sleep deprivation has a lot of health benefits; plus, I need to maintain my high intake of caffeine so not to get withdrawal symptoms,” he said sarcastically.
“Thanks,” she replied sickly-sweet and unaffected. “Call me if he’s on the move again… or anything else you think I might need to know. But Mac, only if it’s important.”
“No sweat.”
Although there had been countless reasons to pick up the phone, it was three hours later when Mac was speed-dialling Emily from his desk. The sudden arrival of a white Ford Luton Taillift truck on the drone’s surveillance feed hadn’t gained much attention at first as it trundled along the narrow road leading into the grounds of the warehouse, disappearing within it in the same manner Dominic’s Mercedes had. But the subsequent number of vans, lorries, cars and even an ambulance, that followed it in – Mac counted fifty-six in total – blatantly did.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Brayden
Meredith had been taken by ambulance to the Royal Hospital for Sick Children in Sciennes Road, Edinburgh as soon as the paramedics had resuscitated her and the girl’s vitals were stable. She had lost a lot of blood and her condition remained critical.
Following close behind the emergency vehicle, sirens blaring, DI Bremner drove the Audi through the otherwise quiet streets of Edinburgh. Brayden was in the passenger seat at the front and Sophie and Liam in the back. The mood was tense and nobody dared to speak.
At the hospital, Brayden jumped out of the car and opened the rear passenger door in a gentlemanly fashion.
Sophie slipped out while Liam climbed free the other side.
“I should really be coming back with you,” said Sophie in dilemma. She wanted to be with her sister, to make sure she was okay, but at the same time the anger that frothed in the back of her throat urged her to go with Brayden to pursue the man responsible for all the woes that had befallen her and her family.
&nb
sp; “Your place is here at your sister’s side,” Brayden said caringly. “There won’t be much done tonight… not whilst we regroup and follow our leads regarding Dominic.”
“I suppose.”
“Besides,” Brayden added, “I’m hoping to grab myself some shut-eye… I’m, how do you guys say it? Naggard?”
“Knackered,” corrected Sophie.
Brayden smiled as he climbed back into the dark-grey car. The English accent made so many words sound eloquently dirty. “Liam can keep you company. We’ll pick you both up in the morning.”
“Keep me updated, won’t you?”
Softly, Brayden nodded and smiled with reassurance. He replied: “Regarding your sister… ditto.”
After briefing Emily with regards to Sophie’s meeting with Dominic and the subsequent ‘exchange’ resulting in Meredith almost dying at the scene, Brayden took hourly turns with Mullins to watch the aerial surveillance footage back in the small room towards the rear of the police station. After dropping him off at the station’s entrance, DI Bremner had left him for home for the day, driving the Audi off in another direction.
After two hours sharing stints staring at the green-tinged black and white video feed, the Mercedes that they were following entered the town of Oban via the A85. It was Brayden’s watch and he felt a flutter of excitement burble in the pit of his stomach for some unknown reason. Takeout leftovers (Chinese) were in aluminium trays around the desk space in front of him. Without thought, he picked up a cold chicken ball, dipped it into a Styrofoam cup of sweet and sour sauce and took a bite. Behind him, Mullins was slouching in an office chair, her legs stretching over to another where her feet were propped up from the floor. She was asleep and snored subtly.
“Mullins,” Brayden glanced behind him and spoke softly, as though being careful not to wake others even though they were in the room alone. “Mullins,” he spoke a little louder.
Mullins didn’t stir.
From a pile of directories and user manuals set to one side of the surveillance station, Brayden picked out a weighty-looking tome and slammed it down on the table behind him.
THWAPP!!
Mullins jumped up and rolled to the ground, a hand automatically reaching to the place where she ordinarily carried a gun. She had removed her holster and weapon and placed it on a table to the side before going to sleep.
Brayden laughed hard.
“That’s not funny!” said the FBI agent, picking herself up. “Could’ve given me a heart attack…”
“It’s a little funny,” replied the agent, still sniggering. “Anyway… I thought you might like to see this.”
The car they were following had weaved through the streets of Oban and had come out the other side, heading for an industrial estate towards the south of the town.
“Where’re they going?” Mullins pulled up a chair alongside Brayden and sat down. She picked up an unopened bag of prawn crackers and started munching them like it were popcorn at the movies.
“I don’t know… but I’ve got a feeling that they’re nearly there,” answered Brayden. It turned out to be prophetic.
Mullins and Brayden watched as the Mercedes followed a narrow road towards what appeared to be a large warehouse.
“Could that be…?” the base of operations. Mullins was half-thinking aloud, watching the vehicle stop outside the building for a moment before slowly moving forward and disappearing into it.
Back in London, Mac and Emily had been watching the very same images, sharing the same thoughts and conversation. Like Emily, he didn’t think so. “No… it doesn’t match Meredith’s description.” He had already repeated what the ten-year-old had said on arrival. “It’s likely a meeting point…”
They continued to watch expectantly, but the picture on the LCD screen was frozen, like someone had pressed the pause button. After half an hour, Brayden’s agitation manifested itself. He stood up and walked around the small room. Without announcement, he retrieved his mobile phone and selected a number on the contact list. A long ringing tone, followed by Mac’s familiar voice filled his ear.
“Hi Mac, is Emily there?”
“No mate… she’s gone to get some rest. What’s up?”
“I’m guessing you’ve been watching the drone feed.” Brayden had manoeuvred back to the surveillance desk and was leaning over the back of his vacant chair, staring at the video screen.
“Sure.”
“What do we know about that warehouse?” Brayden asked, staring at the large rectangular shape of the building.
“I thought someone might ask that,” replied Mac excitedly. Unlike Brayden and Mullins, he had spent the past thirty minutes online checking records and making enquiries. “The warehouse – nay, the entire industrial park – belongs to a prominent UK based insurance company, but a little digging around… I’ve established the warehouse, along with another close by, have been leased to a shell company that indirectly belongs to a subsidiary of Kaplan Ratcliff.”
“Kaplan Ratcliff?”
“Yes siree. All arrows seem to be pointing her way. I think we need to have another chat with Jennifer Ratcliff.”
Brayden didn’t augment Mac’s comment, instead he asked: “How long before we can assemble a team to mount an offensive?”
He didn’t think it was possible, but at the other end of the line Brayden thought he could hear the man shrug. “Oh, I dunno… logistically speaking, owing to your location and the time of day, about ten-to-twelve hours.”
“Okay, that’ll work. Begin the arrangements, but wait for further instructions. I’ll need to speak with Emily first.”
“Shall I get her for you?” Mac asked.
Brayden thought about it for a moment. He checked his watch before responding. It was 9:35 p.m. “No,” he said cautiously. “Let her rest for a bit. There’s no point disturbing her just yet… let’s wait for something justifiable first.”
He only had to wait two-and-a-half hours for that to happen when the first of a convoy of vehicles rolled along the narrow road leading into the warehouse, disappearing like the Mercedes had before them three hours earlier.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Emily
Brayden, Mac and Mullins had counted fifty-six vehicles entering the warehouse; the last – an ambulance – its blue light-bar flashing within the front edge of its roof, sped into the building moments before the roll down door was closed behind it. It was either responding to an emergency or an elaborate disguise to allow it safe passage through the roads leading through Scotland.
It was 12:45 a.m.
Emily had returned to the MI6 headquarters shortly after the first wave of vehicles had descended on the warehouse, actively commenting on what the surveillance drone transmitted onto Mac’s screen, connecting with Brayden and Mullins and discussing its significance over speaker-phone. When little more happened after forty minutes of viewing what appeared to be a ‘paused’ image, the conference call was ended.
At 3:30 a.m. the roll down door of the warehouse was raised again and a stream of dark-garbed figures vacated the building, jogging in military-drill fashion in a column towards a coach that had appeared abandoned until then. There were eighty-six of them, which, on close inspection, easily identified them as the appropriated sons of GYGES. None of the figures appeared to be Dominic, and all bore a similar appearance to each other. Zooming out, the surveillance drone was able to track the coach as it drove out of the compound, taking a course that led towards Oban’s small ferry terminal two miles away. A passenger ferry operated by Caledonian Macbrayne was berthed and received the contingent of super soldiers before immediately setting out to sea.
That was the first of two incidents of interest.
The second was the swift arrival of a Bell 206 helicopter, landing a short walk outside the front
of the warehouse precisely ten minutes later. Showing no signs of setting down passengers it soon became evident that its arrival was there to provide outward transport.
Sure enough, four individuals withdrew from the warehouse via a conventional hinged door, one of them lagging behind to lock up, securing a heavy-duty padlock and giving the door a reassuring tug before trotting towards the helicopter. Before climbing aboard, the spy drone camera had panned in on him.
“That’s our man,” asserted Brayden over the airwaves. The aerial spy camera fixated on the man’s face and Mac pressed a key to pause the image.
“That’s him all right,” said Emily under her breath. “Who were his comrades?”
“Beats me,” replied Brayden.
“One’s Hector Degiorgio,” interjected Mac, “The other two… probably armed goons going out for a ride.”
“That’s helpful,” said Brayden sarcastically.
The helicopter took off with its four commuters, as the agents – separated by almost four hundred miles – watched from overhead; the Bell 206 slowly rose up and glided across the sky towards the sea. From just below the clouds, the surveillance drone followed the helicopter as it flew past the ferry, and out further on a course west. The sea, far below, looked like a dark-grey broiling mass within the green image that played out on the live video stream.
The Whisper of Persia (The Girl in the Mirror Book 3) Page 38