by Steve Reeder
We were into Formula One territory now. The area around here was packed with the hi-tech engineering firms that developed and build practically all the Formula One cars, and most of the American Indy Cars as well. Everywhere there was evidence of their presence with company trucks and staff in logo-covered shirts.
Before leaving Banbury, I called Jethro on his mobile. He had checked the equipment that we would need later and assured me that he could meet us in the park at three thirty. Meanwhile, Michele persuaded a delicatessen to make us up a picnic hamper.
Checking my watch I realised that we were behind schedule ourselves. Fortunately the M40 motorway between Banbury and Windsor was virtually empty and the TVR could sit at a hundred and forty miles per hour quite easily. From there into London I did my best to avoid the M25 and we arrived at the agreed rendezvous only minutes late.
Michele spread a blanket on the grass as near to the Embassy gates as we could get, well within sight of the guards at the gate. We ate cake and bread rolls while Michele flashed enough thigh to distract the gatekeepers while I bemoaned the lack of whipped cream in the hamper. Michele giggled a light girlie giggle and none of the gatekeepers could keep their eyes off her.
Jethro scaled the side wall undetected and set up the infra-red cameras where we were sure they would not be seen: one on the side wall and one at the back. The images were being transmitted to a recorder in Jethro’s car. I confess that I enjoyed the afternoon more than Jethro did.
We left the infra-red cameras in place with the recorder in Jethro’s car parked close by. I hoped nobody took a fancy to his car during the night.
It was cramped in the TVR with three of us and rush hour traffic jams didn’t help, but the fine weather allowed me to keep the top down.
“How long will you leave the infra-red cameras there?” Michele asked Jethro.
“We could pick them up early morning, what do think, Simon?”
I nodded my agreement. “It should give us what we need.” I shot a sideways glance at Jethro. “I saw the Sultan driving in as we left,” I said. “There is a good chance he’ll be there when we go in.”
“His tough luck then.” Jethro shrugged. “Maybe we should rid the world of the bastard while we’re there.”
“Jethro. No. You can’t do that!” Michele cried. “Simon?”
“Jethro’s just kidding, honey. Aren’t you, Jethro?”
“If you say so, boss. Me? I’d just as soon slot the bugger.”
We drove the rest of the way in silence; Michele pressed against me, trying not to let her body touch Jethro. As it turned out, I should have agreed with Jethro. It would have saved me a lot of pain and grief.
Julia was waiting anxiously for us and on our arrival bombarded me with questions. She was beginning to look stressed and I couldn’t blame her.
“Julia, just wait a minute. Get Dave and meet us in your Dad’s office,” I demanded.
Two minutes later the four of us gathered in the office: Michele had elected not to attend, which suited me, as she would be a distraction. Besides, the fewer people who knew what was going on the better.
I introduced Jethro to Dave and Julia then I outlined what we had done up to this point.
“Thing is, Dave, my plan is simple but will require three men, so if you’re keen then it’ll be the three of us?
“Count me in, boss,” he replied. “What’s the plan?”
“The plan at the moment is we get a good night’ sleep. Jethro and I will go back and pick up the recorder and the cameras early, around five. I’ll run the recording through Hammil’s fancy computer program and that should give us a three-dimensional picture of the building and tell us where Josh is.”
“Assuming he is there,” Jethro chipped in. Dave and I nodded. If Josh wasn’t there then there was nothing we could do about it.
“Hammil says Josh is there so we’ll just have to assume he is unless proved incorrect. We’ll get together here at twelve-thirty and take it from there. OK?”
Everyone indicated that it was fine with them. Julia showed Jethro to a spare bedroom and after an early supper we all hit the sack.
Tomorrow would prove to be a long day.
Chapter 13
Hammil’s computer program was a technological marvel.
The inspector had pulled in just as Jethro and I arrived back with the digital recordings. He brought a young man with him who proved to be the computer boffin who could generate the three-dimensional footage we wanted. The boffin wordlessly shooed us all from the office and set to work. Somehow he didn’t look like a cop, but then who does these days?
We sat around the kitchen table drinking tea while he worked. Jethro and the inspector tried hard not to notice each other’s existence and Julia trod an impatient path across the floor.
“If Rodber proves to be there, will you go ahead tonight?” Hammil asked me.
I nodded. “No use in waiting,” I replied, looking at Jethro who indicated agreement with me. “How much notice do you need to get your men in place?”
“My chaps are on two hours notice,” Hammil said, “so that’s not going to be a problem.”
“I’ve brought four second-hand mobile phones,” Jethro said, “that we can use for communications. I’ve programmed in everyone’s name using initials only. If we need to contact each other it will make life simple. If we get nicked there will be no link to anything other than the numbers of these phones,” he said, passing them out. We all hoped that we would not have a need to call the inspector.
Hammil hadn’t asked what Dave was doing here nor had we volunteered any information. The less the inspector knew the better for all of us. I wondered again how far up his chain of command backing for this operation went.
“Inspector, do you know anyone named Frank Brown?” I asked.
“No, I can’t say that I do, Simon,” he replied, shaking his head. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” I couldn’t tell whether he was lying or not.
Julia’s pacing was just getting to me when Hammil’s mobile rang. His official one. He answered then listened briefly and said, “We’ll be right there.” Putting the phone away he turned to me. “The video’s ready.”
The video was actually a digital DVD and was played on the computer rather than a TV. When James Bond and his cronies used this sort of technology in movies I had assumed it was something that the special effects people dreamt up. The program had taken both infra-red recordings, married them together and produced a three-dimensional x-ray picture of the Embassy, which could be rotated through 360 degrees in any direction you wished.
We studied the images for the best part of two hours before agreeing that the heat image of a man alone in a room on the first floor was very likely Josh Rodber. As Jethro summed it up, “He never leaves the room, periodically someone comes to the room but never stays longer than a minute or two, sometimes less, and he seems to be doing nothing other than sitting on his rear end.”
We agreed that there were twenty-nine people present in the building, but that eleven of them were domestic staff: cooks, cleaners etcetera. That left the big boss, who had a room on the fourth floor, as did a family of two who we guessed was the ambassador and his wife. On the third floor there were five rooms with one man residing in each. Since none of them went near Rodber we decided that they were normal embassy staff. One man had a room attached to the garages and was likely to be the official driver. That left nine possible guards and the Sultan himself. Of the nine, three stayed on duty at the front gate during the day but only two at night. The guards were changed at two-hour intervals, starting at six in the evening. By ten-thirty everyone in the building had been asleep except for Rodber who moved around restlessly till past midnight. At six when we had retrieved the cameras only the kitchen staff had risen to get breakfast ready.
Hammil took his boffin and the infra-red equipment and left the rest of us to work out the finer points of the plan. I bowed to Jethro’s experience in such matters and he la
id out a plan we all agreed on.
It was actually simple and would depend a lot on Jethro and me believing we could get into the building undetected. Jethro would go over the wall first and deactivate the ancient interior alarm system, which was something he proved to be very good at. I would back him up when we entered the embassy itself while Dave would be ready with the getaway car parked down the road, waiting for me to call. None of this would have been possible without the information we had gleaned from the infra-red DVD.
We emptied our pockets of anything personal and laid out what we would be taking with us: one old mobile each, one set of night vision glasses for Jethro and me, one zapper each for Jethro and me, plus Jethro’s bag of tools for picking locks along with wire cutters and pliers. I had decided we would not be armed since we could not risk a shoot-out with the guards anyway. I added a handful of doorstop wedges. Dave loaded the equipment we would need to get over the wall.
We studied the DVD, planning our route into the building and up to Josh’s room again and again, going over several scenarios if the unexpected happened. By nine we were ready to go.
In the end the unexpected did happen, but not quite what we had planned for.
The first part of the rescue went smoothly. By eleven Jethro was inside the property. I waited nervously outside the wall, keeping to the darkest part of the park. The anti-intruder spikes had been effectively neutralised with a plastic frame that fitted over them. As planned, Jethro sent me a short message on the mobile: “OK,” it read. I heaved myself over the wall and landed lightly on the balls of my feet.
“Psssst!” Jethro crouched in the dark twenty yards off to my left. I studied the garden to be sure I hadn’t been seen. All was quiet.
The building rose dark and threatening and somehow evil looking in front of me. Visions of those Zimbabwean prisons came to mind and made me shudder. I banished them from my thoughts; this should be somewhat easier. I hoped.
All seemed quiet so I followed Jethro around to the back of the old mansion, careful to keep to the grass where our footsteps made no sound. He stopped by a door and whispered, “Servants’ entrance, sorry about that. I know you officer types don’t normally lower yourself to this but I think we can make an exception this time.” He grinned.
“Can you do this lock?” I asked.
“Already done, boss.” He opened the door to prove his point. “Piece of cake.”
We stepped inside and waited, listening to the sounds of the building. Making sure we would pick up on any unusual sound once we started on in. We both had the night glasses on, making everything look green. After a minute or two I touched Jethro on the shoulder and gave him the thumbs up. He nodded and led off.
We made our way through the kitchen without incident and found ourselves in the hallway. The floor was made of wood and we had to tread very carefully to avoid any noise even in rubber-soled shoes. Unfortunately we had to cross the huge front entrance hall to get to the wide sweeping stairs but we made it undetected.
Jethro watched the first floor while I jammed two of the wedges under the front doors to stop anyone coming in unexpectedly. The offices leading off the hall were all locked. Jethro reached the first floor then motioned me up after checking the landing. We had been inside for nearly forty minutes already but stealth was more important than speed. We crept down the passage till we came to the room where Rodber was supposed to be.
Problem was that once Jethro had opened the door, we found that it was empty. There were no signs of Rodber.
“Bloody hell,” Jethro said softly. “What now?”
Truth was I didn’t know. Where would they have taken him? I was really pissed off now. Everything had been going so well, what the hell had gone wrong?
“I don’t know, mate.” I thought for a moment. “Let’s check the other rooms on this floor. You never know.”
There were five other bedrooms on the first floor. Very carefully we checked each in turn, opening the door just enough to make sure they were not locked. I reasoned Rodber would not be kept in an unlocked room. They proved to house the off-duty guards, yet they hadn’t been there last night.
Finally we were back at the landing at the top off the stairs. I was feeling understandably nervous but Jethro seemed to be enjoying himself.
“There’s only one thing for it, Simon,” he said. “Let’s ask the head honcho himself.” He looked at me enquiringly.
I thought about that bit of foolhardiness, but by now I was feeling more than a little reckless myself. I nodded and led Jethro quietly upstairs. On the third floor we almost came unstuck. One of the Embassy staff came out of his room just as we reached the landing. I breathed a sigh of relief as he turned away from us. Yawning and scratching his crotch he made his way to a door at the end of the passage. When he opened it, it proved to be a bathroom. We climbed halfway up the next flight of stairs then stopped out of sight of the returning staff member. We would spend five minutes waiting for chummy to go back to bed and fall asleep.
I pulled off my night glasses and massaged my eyes, which were beginning to feel the strain. When I put them back on I saw Jethro grinning at me.
“Haven’t had this much fun in ages,” he whispered. I tried a smile but it came out wrong.
“Come on, boss, he should be back asleep again by now.” It had been seven minutes.
The Sultan’s bedroom wasn’t locked and I stood guard while Jethro crept over to the bed. I saw him reach into a pocket and draw out a switchblade. He covered the Sultan’s mouth with his hand and when his eyes opened, Jethro showed him the knife. The Sultan struggled ineffectively until he saw the blade.
Jethro whispered urgently into his ear, threateningly. He removed his hand and asked the Sultan a question I could not hear. The Sultan shook his head. Jethro asked again, this time pressing the knife against the Sultan’s throat.
I heard a noise from the next room: sounds of someone stirring. Glancing briefly at Jethro I held my finger to my lips. He put his hand back over the Sultan’s mouth, silencing him with a menacing look.
I crept down the passage and put my ear to the bedroom door. There was a murmuring of voices. They grew quiet for a moment, and then I could hear heavy breathing and creaking of bedsprings. I guessed we had three minutes, maybe four. I returned to the master bedroom to warn Jethro, only to find that he had an unconscious Sultan slung over his shoulder.
“What the bloody…” I began.
“Come on, boss. This is the best way. We can take him and ask questions at our leisure.” He brushed past me and made for the stairway. I had no option but to follow his lead.
We made far too much noise on our way out, hurrying to be gone before our captive came round and started shouting his head off. Luckily no one came out to stop us. Our only problem was getting the Sultan over the high wall.
Dave answered my call and met us at the entrance to the park. If he was surprised at the turn of events he didn’t show it, loading our unwilling passenger into the back seat. Jethro got in the back with him.
“I guess there’s a change in plans,” said Dave. “So where to now?”
I shook my head in confusion. “Don’t ask me, Dave, not my plan.” Jethro chuckled from the back. “Get us down to West Sussex, to Bognor Regis, and take it easy. We can’t afford to be stopped by the coppers.”
“You do know you’ve just committed an official act of war, don’t you?” Dave asked mildly.
“Yes, well …” I said uncertainly, “I think we’ll wait a few minutes before calling Hammil. I guess we’ll have to tell him the operation is over at some stage though.”
As it turned out, Inspector Hammil called me first.
“Roberts. What the fuck is going on?”
“Um, Inspector, I thought you were going to wait for my call?” I asked, stalling him.
“There is all hell breaking loose at, you know … where you’ve just been.” He sounded agitated. “I’ve had a call from the London Met about a disturbance at the
Emb … er, that place.” He was trying to shout quietly. “They’ve asked to get my men over there at once.”
“Listen, Hammil. I can’t go into it now. Just answer the call and be as surprised as you can. I’ll contact you in the morning. Just so that you know, you won’t find us there. Or any sign of us. OK?” There was a brief silence.
“You will call me first thing in the morning,” he demanded, “or I’ll be down on you like a ton of bricks. And get rid of those mobiles.” He didn’t wait for a reply.
I collected the three mobiles in silence and wiped them clean of fingerprints. Dave stopped by a street rubbish bin close to the M25 and I tossed the phones away.
It would be a relatively short drive now until we turned south towards Dorking. After that we should be safe from police patrols.
The Sultan showed no signs of waking and I was beginning to worry about him.
“How hard did you hit him?” I asked Jethro.
“I never hit him at all, boss,” he replied, and held up a small hypodermic. “I always come prepared. Just in case. And me not even a Boy Scout.” He laughed.
“Just in case? In case we felt the need to kidnap someone?” I wasn’t sure if I should be pissed off at him or not. “Do you have any more of those? How long will they be effective anyway?”
“Two more, to the first question, and it depends on the patient. Perhaps two hours,” he replied with a grin.
“Do you know where we’re going, Jethro? I mean we can’t very well take him back to the Rodber place.”
“Don’t worry about that, Simon. We’re going to stop off at a friend’s house near Bognor. My mate and I’ll take care of him while you and Dave head back to Kent. I’ll call you as soon as I get Rodber’s location out of Sleeping Beauty here.”
And since I didn’t have another plan that’s precisely what we did.
Michele was waiting up with Julia. It only took one look at my face for them to know that something had gone wrong. Neither Marsha nor Tarryn had yet been told about the rescue bid and both were soundly asleep. I told the girls not to tell them anything yet, and after hearing what we had done, they agreed wholeheartedly. Dave drifted off home to catch up on lost sleep. I served stiff drinks to the girls and coaxed them off to bed too. It was unlikely that we would hear from Jethro for many hours yet.