by Bill Ward
The second call was to his friend Brian at MI5. Powell didn’t want to say anything important over an open line so simply stated it was an emergency and he urgently needed a private conversation. Brian understood the emphasis on private and said he would call back in twenty minutes.
“Where are you?” Powell asked immediately, when Brian’s name appeared as the caller.
“A coffee shop. What’s up?”
“I’ve just had a visit from Lara.”
“Lara? What does she want and why are you being paranoid about privacy?”
“Can you get down to Brighton tonight? I’ll buy dinner.”
“You can’t tell me something more on the phone?”
“Better not.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“Lara certainly is and by default I may be now as well.”
“I can be at the bar about seven, if that’s okay?”
“Perfect.”
“I’m quite looking forward to meeting Lara, after everything you told me about her.”
“We’ll see you later… and Brian, don’t tell anyone where you’re going. I mean not anyone.”
There was a brief pause before Brian said, “I won’t.” Then he added, “Make sure you have a good steak available tonight. I get the feeling I’m not going to enjoy what you have to tell me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Baz was wondering why his contact Phoenix had changed the meeting place. Perhaps it was just because the operation was now underway and extra security was necessary. He was first to arrive at the small café, sat at a table outside and ordered tea. It was an old fashioned café not one of the modern style coffee shops from the west now flooding the cities. There were just a couple of locals sat at one other table.
He was looking forward to this meeting more than any other with Phoenix since he returned to his homeland almost two years ago. At their last meeting, Phoenix had provided the information about Fawwaz Al-Hashimi and informed Baz it was vital he passed it on to the English woman on a specific date. Baz was hoping Phoenix would have more important information for him today, which he could again trade for sex with Lara.
As Baz sipped his coffee, he wondered why he had been instructed to pass across information that would almost certainly lead to the capture of Al-Hashimi. Baz didn’t know the man personally but the timing of when he gave Lara the name, so soon after the bombing of the London marathon was surely more than just a coincidence.
Why Phoenix had told him to betray such a hero was almost beyond comprehension but he understood there was a bigger plan at play and this was an important part of that plan. Baz had allowed Lara to think she had ensnared him for this very reason. He was able to feed her information and she no longer questioned its integrity.
Baz was beginning to get uncomfortable. He had drank two coffees and Phoenix was almost twenty minutes late. He had never previously been late for a meeting and Baz was worried there was a problem. He cast anxious glances around but there seemed no reason for concern. He was supposed to receive a coded message if Phoenix was unable to meet.
He was wondering how much longer he should wait, when his phone announced the arrival of a message and he expectantly picked it up to check.
The message was short and simple: Sorry but I cannot make coffee today. My husband has come home unexpectedly.
Baz was both annoyed and worried. He didn’t like having been kept waiting so long before being told the meeting was cancelled. It showed a lack of respect. However, his overwhelming feeling was concern there was a problem. It was time to leave.
Baz again looked around but there was just the normal mixture of locals going about their everyday business. He called the waiter over and settled the bill. He left a large tip to save the man going inside for change. His car was parked about fifty metres along the road and he was developing a strong desire to be behind the wheel. He wanted to be well away from here, as soon as possible.
He had only walked a few paces when he glanced quickly behind. It was a sudden and unexpected move, which gave no time for anyone following to react. There was no sign of trouble. Nobody seemed to be paying him any interest. He relaxed a little and continued walking to his car.
He was frustrated on more than one level by the cancelled meeting. No information meant no leverage for enjoying more pleasure with Lara. He sighed at the thought of her body. He was indeed fortunate she was a beautiful woman. If she had been plain and unexciting, it would still have been necessary to sleep with her in order to become her spy within the organisation. Never before had his work been so pleasurable.
He opened his car door and climbed clumsily into the seat. He knew he could do with losing a few pounds but sex was the only form of exercise he enjoyed. The thought made him smile.
Next time he would have to insist on Lara allowing him more time to enjoy her body. She was a dish that should not be served cold and it took time to warm her up. She pretended not to enjoy sex with him but he knew the truth.
There was a man crossing the road in front of his car. Baz paid the man no attention and turned on the ignition. He was about to pull out when he realised the man had stopped in front of his car and turned towards him.
In what seemed like slow motion, Baz saw the man raise his arm and in his hand was a gun, which was pointing directly at him through the windscreen. Baz desperately tried to duck but he was far too slow to react. He was squeezed too tightly into his seat and he knew there was no escape.
The first bullet caught him in the throat and made him slump back in his seat. Baz’s hand flew to his throat and tried to stem the flow of blood but it was an impossible task. The blood poured out over his hand and down his shirt.
He was certain Phoenix had betrayed him, just as he had betrayed Al-Hashimi. His brain was telling him he must get away but he was powerless to move. The car engine was running. If he could just reach the steering wheel.
Baz saw the man take careful aim for a second time and squeeze the trigger. The bullet entered his head through his nose and he was to all extents and purposes dead but the assassin walked to the side of the car, opened the driver’s door and put two more bullets into Baz’s head.
CHAPTER NINE
Brian and Jenkins arrived at the bar within ten minutes of each other and after getting them both a drink, Powell took them through to the office.
The surprise on Jenkins face when he spotted Lara was priceless. He glanced at Powell with a questioning look.
“I’ve heard much about you,” Brian said, shaking Lara’s hand. He was reluctant to let go. Powell had described her as attractive, which was a massive understatement.
“None of it good, I’m sure,” Lara replied, smiling.
“Not true,” Brian answered.
Powell was sure his friend was blushing like a schoolboy talking, for the first time, to the girl he secretly fancied. He suspected Lara often left men tongue tied or blushing.
Brian continued, “Powell always says he couldn’t have brought the children home without your help. Angela Bennett is a personal friend of mine. In fact, it was me who introduced Angela to Powell so it’s nice to be able to thank you in person at last, for what you did.”
“I was glad to be able to help,” Lara replied. “I took some convincing to help but Powell can be very persuasive.”
Very diplomatically put, Powell thought.
“Good to see you again,” Lara said, turning to Jenkins with outstretched hand.
Jenkins gave a perfunctory shake of her hand. “Good for us or good for you? I doubt it can be good for both of us.”
“I’m sorry about the past, I was just doing my job. Believe it or not, I was pleased you managed to get the children back to their mother. Their father is a nasty piece of work.”
Powell spoke up before Jenkins could respond further. “Anyone hungry? I’ve reserved a quiet table for us.”
“I’m looking forward to your best steak,” Brian answered.
“Famished,” Jenkin
s admitted. “A large rare steak with all the trimmings sounds perfect.”
“Is Afina joining us?” Brian asked.
“No, she and Mara are going to a concert tonight and I’m meant to be running the bar. It’s the first night she’s had off in a long while and to be honest, the less she knows about this, the better. I don’t want to involve her in more danger.”
“When I arrived, she didn’t seem her normal bubbly self,” Brian commented. “I think she’s feeling excluded. Did you explain to her you’re just worried for her safety?”
“Not really,” Powell admitted.
“You two have been through a lot together, you need to speak to her.”
“I’ll update her in the morning,” Powell promised. Perhaps a good night out would put her in a better mood. Although while Lara was around, he suspected her bad mood was likely to remain. “Let’s go eat,” he suggested. “If you all follow me, I’ll show you to our table.”
Once everyone was seated, Afina appeared at the table. “We’re leaving now,” Afina informed them. “If you’re sure you can all manage without us?”
“We’re fine thanks, Afina,” Powell replied. Then he remembered what Brian had suggested. “If you’re around in the morning, I’d like to speak to you.”
“I’m always here in the morning.”
“Good. Enjoy your evening.”
“What concert are you seeing?” Jenkins asked.
“Jason Derulo.”
“Brilliant. I’d love to see him.”
“You know who he is?” Powell asked, obviously surprised.
“Of course I do. Don’t you?”
“Never heard of him.”
“But he was playing earlier,” Jenkins pointed out.
“We play music all day in here. I can’t know every singer.”
“Dinosaurs don’t appreciate good music,” Afina said smiling.
“Don’t you need to be leaving?” Powell hinted. “Can you please send Neill across and we’ll order some drinks.”
After Afina left, Lara asked, “Where is Afina from?”
“Romania,” Powell answered.
“What was Brian referring to when he said you had both been through a lot?” Lara quizzed.
“That’s personal,” Powell replied succinctly, cutting off any further questions. He didn’t feel he had the right to describe the hell Afina had been through. It was her story to tell. “Lara, I think it’s time for you to replay everything that has happened to you recently.”
Lara took twenty minutes to tell her story, answering a few questions from Brian along the way and stopping only for Neill to take and deliver their orders for drinks.
As the story neared its conclusion, Powell could see Brian become increasingly concerned.
“As you know, I’m Director of Training and I no longer have any day-to-day operational involvement,” Brian explained. “I know all our resources have been focused on finding the marathon bomber but I’ve never heard of this Al-Hashimi. As far as I’m aware we’re still searching for the bomber.”
“Would you know if Al-Hashimi had been captured?” Powell asked.
“In normal circumstances I would know but if what Lara described has happened, then whoever has sanctioned it would want to keep the list of people in the know to an absolute minimum. There would be no reason for me to be included.”
“I’m not lying,” Lara emphasised.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you are lying. What I do know for sure is that we still have everyone focused on finding this bomber. To knowingly waste our resources in that way would require a huge cover up. Frankly, I’m thinking this Al-Hashimi isn’t the marathon bomber but a different terrorist. It’s the only possible explanation. Even then I have to say, I’m doubtful we’ve even been informed about this Al-Hashimi.”
“Is that really possible?” Powell probed.
“Lara passed her information to her superiors in MI6,” Brian answered. “Perhaps they never passed the name to us, which would be highly irregular but might be explained by their intention to find him and operate off the grid.”
“You mean extract information in ways that MI5 wouldn’t condone?” Powell quizzed.
“This is all conjecture and highly unlikely,” Brian stated. “There would be hell to pay once it was out in the open and it’s not the sort of thing you could keep covered up for ever.”
“Twenty five years ago, things were done in Ireland, which to this day have remained secret,” Powell mentioned. “It is feasible.”
Powell noticed the small, almost imperceptible movement of Brian’s head as he set an empty glass back down on the table.
“I need to empty the tank before I start again,” Brian announced, standing.
“Think I’ll do the same,” Powell agreed.
Once in the toilets, Powell checked the cubicles were empty. “What do you think?” he asked, once satisfied they were alone.
“I’m not sure but I don’t like what I’ve heard. Do you think Lara is telling the truth?”
“Broadly I do but it’s possible she isn’t telling us everything.”
“It seems likely those men who paid you a visit today will be back, whoever they work for.”
“I agree, that’s why Jenkins is here.”
“It’s not going to be easy for me to verify any of this,” Brian said. “If I ask too many questions, I’m just likely to attract attention and bring a whole load of trouble down on all of us… There is another way.”
“Which is?” Powell asked.
“Throw her to the wolves. You don’t owe her anything.”
“I can’t do that.”
Brian let out a sigh. “Thought you’d say that. I’ll see what I can find out but in the meantime you need to be very careful.”
They had just left the toilets when Powell’s phone rang. He decided to take the call as it was Angela Bennett.
“Hi Angela.”
“Powell, I’ve just been notified Baz is dead.”
Powell was halfway back to the table. He immediately stopped and turned away from the table and Lara in particular. “Baz is dead? What happened?”
“I had an email from his new wife. She felt I should know because of the children. He was shot in his car.”
“When did it happen?”
“Two days ago.”
The timing coincided with the attempt on Lara’s life and it seemed more than just a coincidence. “Are you okay?” Powell asked.
“I’m fine. I don’t wish to appear callous but it’s something of a relief. I can stop worrying what he might be planning to do to get the children back. I just thought you’d want to know.”
“As you say, it might be for the best. Thanks for letting me know. Have you told Karim and Laila?”
“No. I’m not sure I will, at least not in the near future. They’ve been through enough and they don’t ever expect to see him again, anyway.”
“If you need my help with anything don’t hesitate to give me a call,” Powell stressed. “I’ll speak to you soon.”
With the call finished, Powell turned to Brian, who had remained standing nearby. “Did you get that? Baz was murdered two days ago.”
“This is getting serious,” Brian warned. “Let’s see what Lara has to say for herself.”
CHAPTER TEN
Phoenix had entered Britain without any problems. At passport control he felt like challenging why this small island had the audacity to call themselves ‘Great’ but of course he said nothing. He was happy to have arrived at the scene of what would be his most memorable victory. It had been a long journey to this point. From the early days spent fighting Russians to the current time, it felt like his whole life there had been an enemy to fight. For the first time in a long time, he felt they were on the brink of defeating the British and Americans.
The soft capitalists were experiencing doubt about continuing to wage war, faced with significant losses and an angry public fed up of soldiers coming home in bo
dy bags and refugees flooding their shores. This was the price they paid for meddling in the affairs of other countries.
Phoenix was pleased that the plan was progressing as expected. Baz was dead and he was the only man who knew that the information, which would inevitably be tortured out of Al-Hashimi, was in fact intentional misinformation. The authorities would be looking in the wrong direction when Phoenix’s plan came to fruition. They would be expecting an attack but at the wrong time and the wrong venue. Such subterfuge had become necessary with security so tight at every large event, especially such an important conference.
Recent attacks in Europe had been very successful but they had all been targeted at the public. Phoenix had become fed up with the West targeting the leaders of ISIS with their bombs. It was time to strike back at their leaders and make them pay the price for their crimes. There was one figure in particular he held responsible above all others and this was their target.
The last contribution of Baz had been to secure the Saudi passport, which Phoenix had used to enter Britain. He knew he would sleep sounder knowing Baz was not alive to reveal the name under which he was travelling. He was a Saudi business man visiting the country to attend exhibitions and discuss potential partnerships with various companies. He had pre-booked his tickets for an exhibition at Olympia and his cover story was solid.
It hurt Phoenix that a man like Baz should meet such an easy end and a hero like Al-Hashimi, should have to experience waterboarding and spend the rest of his life in prison. Baz was a fool, although he had been a useful fool for quite some time. He had dared to believe he was important in the organisation but he was not a true believer. He was a weak man and weak men could not be trusted. He would always put his own interests before all others.
While Phoenix was sure Al-Hashimi would only give up his information when the torture became unbearable, he was equally sure Baz would squeal at the mere suggestion of pain. Perhaps it was the result of too much time spent living in England, which had weakened his spirit. He could not hide his desire for the Lara woman, who was the worst of creatures, a mongrel created with a mixture of Arabic and Western blood. In time, she would also pay the price for her scheming.