by Bill Ward
“The same boss, who the moment Lara mentions she didn’t like what she saw happen to Al-Hashimi, tells her to say nothing and he will look into it, except she suddenly finds her life threatened.”
“That’s the man,” Brian agreed.
“So Baz, who passed Lara the information is now dead and Lara probably should be. Someone has tried to silence the two people who knew Al-Hashimi is in the UK.”
“Perhaps someone inside ISIS discovered Baz had passed the information to Lara and was simply trying to protect Al-Hashimi so he could carry out his attacks.”
“The timing doesn’t really work. Al-Hashimi was already a prisoner by the time of the attempt on Lara’s life,” Powell answered doubtfully.
“Then killing Lara was just them getting rid of the person they blame for recruiting Baz.”
“Possibly,” Powell agreed. “But why hasn’t Lara’s boss passed on the information about Al-Hashimi to his superiors in MI6?”
“We don’t know for sure he hasn’t. He’s passed the information to someone as otherwise Al-Hashimi wouldn’t have been captured and tortured.”
“And the man doing the torturing was American. Could the CIA be somehow involved?”
“Doesn’t seem very likely.”
“Irish terrorism was so much easier to deal with. I honestly don’t know how you cope with today’s world.”
“I’m not sure we do cope,” Brian admitted. “We’re a bit like Canute trying to push back the tide.”
“I don’t suppose the DG had any suggestions for what we do next?” Powell asked without much hope.
“Keep your heads down for a couple of days while the big boys check out what’s going on. Perhaps a holiday for you and Lara would be a good idea?”
“Very funny! You want to see Afina put one of our kitchen knives in my back?”
“I thought your relationship with Afina was purely platonic.”
“It is but… it’s not as simple as that.”
“You two need to sort out your feelings before someone gets hurt.”
“And a knife in the back would definitely hurt so I don’t think going away with Lara is a good idea.”
“So what will you do?”
“Stay alert and try to keep out of trouble.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know what develops at the office. The DG has promised to keep me regularly updated but I take that with a pinch of salt. He’ll speak to me when he needs something. Right now I suspect he’s more concerned about covering his back with the politicians.”
“I thought you said you liked him?”
“He’s perfectly pleasant but you don’t get to be DG without knowing how to ingratiate yourself with politicians. They are his masters.”
“I guess so,” Powell agreed.
“Let’s get Lara down here and tell her what we know,” Brian suggested.
“It’s more like what we don’t know,” Powell said, finishing his glass. “I’ll go get her.”
A breathless Powell and Afina came back into the office ten minutes later.
“You took your time,” Brian remarked. “What have you two been up to?” His voice carried a sexual innuendo.
“We were watching the news,” Powell responded. “There’s been another bomb. A gay pub in the centre of London about half an hour ago. There may be as many as twenty dead.”
Brian sat upright. “Well that wasn’t Al-Hashimi’s work. Was it a suicide bomber?”
“Too early to tell. There’s been a message though sent to a national newspaper claiming it was the work of ISIS. Gays were targeted as being an abomination and a crime against God.”
“Sounds like their kind of twisted thinking. I better skip dinner and head back to town. It’s going to be all hands to the pump. You can update Lara on the day’s events.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Powell received a parking permit as the owner of the bar and always parked his BMW just a minute’s walk away. As he left the bar with Lara and Jenkins, he studied the vicinity to see if he could spot any sign of imminent danger, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he expected to see. Danger could come in many guises but there were at least no men in dark suits and shades hanging around on the street corner.
He had watched Lara get quite tipsy as the evening wore on. Brian’s update from his meetings with the DG and in particular, the news that Al-Hashimi was an unknown name within both MI5 and MI6, had come as a huge shock. Added to the previous night’s news about the death of Baz, Powell could see that Lara was struggling to cope with the fact her world, as she thought she knew it, was falling apart. There was no explanation for what had happened but for certain she felt extremely vulnerable and in danger. The easy access to alcohol meant she had started drinking early evening and although she had not gone mad, by the end of the evening she was definitely feeling the effects.
They reached the car without incident and Jenkins held the door open so Lara could sit in the back, before joining Powell in the front. Powell pulled away and he could see in his rear view mirror, first Lara’s eyes closing, followed by her disappearing from view as she fell sideways on the back seat.
As they drove the five minute journey to his house, Powell was lost in thought. He had spent the latter part of the evening reflecting on the bomb in London. It reminded him of his days in MI5, when fighting Irish terrorism occupied his every waking moment. It had been a time when people in London and other cities were very aware of the danger of bombs, which became a regular occurrence. The big difference was that the IRA didn’t have suicide bombers, which reduced the threat when compared to the current times.
Powell wondered if Al-Hashimi was just a small part of a new campaign of coordinated attacks. Perhaps there were multiple cells operating, intent on destroying lives and property. It was a sobering thought and had stopped Powell from having too many drinks.
When they arrived at the house, Jenkins put his arm around Lara as she staggered getting out of the car. Powell led the way and opened the front door. He looked behind and could see Jenkins was struggling trying to support Lara and get her up the steps.
As a result, Powell didn’t reach immediately for the light switch but stepped back and took Lara under one arm so the two of them could carry her up the steps. As he came back to the front door and reached for the light switch he halted a second away from lighting his hallway.
“Do you smell something?” Powell asked.
Jenkins took in a deep breath through his nose. “That’s gas.”
“Let’s put her back in the car.”
They half carried, half dragged Lara back to the car and pushed her onto the back seat where she lay down muttering something about being tired.
“You stay here,” Powell said. “I’ll check on the house.”
“Be careful. It only takes a spark,” Jenkins warned.
Powell retraced his steps to the front door. He made no attempt to turn on the light. Basic training at MI5 included awareness of how to manipulate a light socket to cause the spark needed to create a gas explosion.
The smell of gas was slightly less by the open front door but as he took a couple of steps into the house, the smell returned. He took a deep breath of fresh air and walked quickly to the kitchen. He opened the windows and then turned off the cooker. The door of the cooker was wide open and he knew with certainty, he hadn’t left it that way.
He moved through the other downstairs rooms, opening all the windows as he went until he was satisfied he’d done everything possible to air the rooms. There was still a strong presence of gas but it was easing. He returned to join Jenkins.
“Someone’s paid us a visit,” Powell confirmed. “Give it a bit of time and then I’ll check for how they may have intended to ignite the gas. I suspect I’ll find a dodgy hallway light.”
“This is pretty serious,” Jenkins stated.
“That’s probably an understatement. I’ll give Brian a call and let him know about our visitors. He needs to find out what the
hell is going on.”
Powell took his phone from his pocket and as he pushed the call button, a shadow moved across his periphery vision. A few houses down on the other side of the road, someone had darted out from behind a car and crossed the road. Powell turned in the direction of what he was sure was danger but couldn’t see anyone and for a second wondered if his imagination was working overtime.
“Did you see something?” Jenkins asked.
“I thought I did.”
“We’re terribly exposed standing around out here. We should get Lara in the house.”
Powell was in two minds what to do but his mind was made up for him by the sight of a man briefly sticking his head out from behind the car, where Powell suspected he had been hiding since crossing the road. He was obviously checking what they were planning to do. Trying to drag Lara out of the car while she was asleep and get her in the house safely didn’t appeal.
“Get in the car,” Powell ordered.
Jenkins ran around to the passenger side and Powell quickly climbed in the driver’s side. A glance in the rear view mirror as he pulled away, revealed the man hiding behind the car now standing, looking in their direction. The front door was still open but Powell thought that the least of his problems as he accelerated. He had noticed the car pulling out from across the road, before stopping for a second to allow the man on the pavement to jump inside.
“We have company,” Powell announced.
Jenkins twisted in his seat to look at the car behind. “They’ll be armed.”
“I have a weapon at the bar, in my office safe.”
“Not sure we’re going to make it that far.”
“Call Afina,” Powell said. “Ask her to have the front door open for us. I don’t want to be fumbling with a key.”
Jenkins did as asked and explained to Afina they were being followed.
“How many of them are there?” Powell asked after Jenkins finished.
Jenkins again looked out the back window. “Three I think.”
Despite it being after midnight there was still a fair amount of traffic. Powell thought it might be sufficient witnesses to prevent the car behind from trying to ram them or do anything too radical. He drove fast and was pleased the late hour meant it would be possible to park right outside the bar.
He had to slow as the cars ahead stopped for a traffic light that was turning red. He cast a nervous glance in his mirror to confirm the car was still directly behind. He didn’t like the idea of coming to a stop and being trapped between cars.
At the last moment, Powell accelerated and pulled out onto the wrong side of the road to overtake the cars in front. Up ahead, he could see a car starting to turn the corner, heading in his direction. Powell swung his car back in front of the queuing cars just in time and turned left. He’d seen the look of horror on the face of the other driver as the crash was narrowly averted.
Powell again checked in his rear mirror and was pleased to see the other car hadn’t been foolish enough to follow. It would give them a much needed minute’s head start. The men following would know where they were headed and for a second Powell thought about changing direction but he needed answers and the starting point was the American, who was almost certainly one of the men in the following car.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Powell skidded to a stop directly in front of the bar, not remotely concerned about parking restrictions. There was still no sign of the following car. He and Jenkins were both out of the car quickly. Jenkins opened the rear door, leaned in and tried to scoop Lara up in his arms. She responded by immediately lashing out with her feet and caught him in the thigh.
“It’s me, Jenkins,” he shouted, taking a step backwards to avoid her flailing feet. He was concerned she had only just missed kicking him in the balls. “We need to get you out of here.”
Lara was slow to react, obviously still suffering from a mixture of tiredness and alcohol.
“For God’s sake, Lara. Get out the fucking car,” Jenkins urged.
“Okay, I’m coming,” she replied but still barely moved.
Jenkins was joined on the pavement by Powell.
Seeing Lara’s lack of progress, Powell shouted, “Can you please hurry up, Lara. We’re in danger.”
“Fuck,” Jenkins swore, looking down the street and spotting the car.
Lara was by now half out the car and placed her feet on the pavement. She tried to stand but fell back into the car. She sat giggling for a second. Jenkins reached towards her and grabbed her by one arm, forcefully helping her to stand.
“Jenkins, I’ll ask you for your help if I need it,” Lara said, shaking her arm free of his grip.
“Lara, your American friend is in that car,” Powell said pointing. “We need to get in the bar right now.” Even as Powell said it he felt a sense of impending doom. The car had stopped just a short distance further down the road and the men were already heading in their direction.
Lara looked towards where Powell was pointing but didn’t seem to understand the significance of the car.
“Get her inside,” Powell said, as he turned to face the three oncoming men.
Jenkins had Lara around the waist and lifted her in a fireman’s lift over his shoulder before she knew what was happening and rushed for the bar entrance, despite her protests.
The three men started running towards Powell and he took up a fighting stance, praying they wouldn’t want to simply shoot him where he stood. As they outnumbered him, they were over confident.
The familiar American was in front of the others and came in swinging. Powell turned his back on him, stepped inside the flailing arm, grabbed it and used the man’s momentum to throw him forwards to the ground.
Powell turned to face the other men and in the same movement he was lashing out with his leg, smashing it into the side of the head of one man, sending him crashing to the ground.
The last man immediately took a step back, realising he wasn’t going to win a hand to hand fight and withdrew a gun from inside his jacket.
Powell was uncertain whether the man would fire. He stayed still, offering no threat.
“Shoot him,” the American shouted from the floor.
Powell threw himself towards the man with the gun but he knew bullets were faster than even his honed reflexes. He heard the sound of the gun and then he barged the man to the floor. There had been no impact of a bullet. Thank God the man had been a poor shot.
As he lay on top of the man ready to grapple for the gun, Powell realised he was meeting no resistance. Powell briefly felt warm sticky blood on his hand but it wasn’t his own.
He jumped to his feet expecting a renewed assault from the other two men. He turned to see neither man was moving and both were looking in the direction of the bar entrance where Afina was standing, pointing a gun at the two men.
“I’ll take that,” Jenkins said, emerging from the bar and taking hold of the gun. He had obviously deposited Lara somewhere inside.
Afina seemed frozen to the spot. She was staring at the man on the ground, who she had just shot. The moaning sounds suggested he was in great pain but also revealed he wasn’t dead. He was clutching at his stomach and rolling from side to side.
Powell recognised the gun as the one he kept in the safe. He walked towards Afina and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “You had no choice,” he said. “You saved my life.”
She looked at him and managed a half smile. He gripped her tighter and then turned to the man he had kicked in the head, who was crouched on the ground. “Pick up your colleague, put him in your car and get out of here.”
The man didn’t move but looked across at the American. “Jenkins, if he hasn’t picked up that body within ten seconds, shoot him,” Powell commanded.
“Be my pleasure,” Jenkins said, aiming the gun at the man.
The man hurried to his feet and leaning down, picked up the injured man under one arm and supported him as they stumbled to the car. It took him a few minut
es to manhandle the wounded man into the car and drive away. No one moved until the car was out of sight.
“You, inside,” Powell commanded the American. “If he does anything out of place, Jenkins, you have my permission to put a bullet in him. Preferably somewhere it will really hurt but isn’t fatal because he’s beginning to piss me off.”
Afina and Powell hung back while Jenkins followed the American into the bar. Powell waited a moment to make sure the car with the other two men had not decided to return, then guided Afina into the bar.
Lara was waiting inside for them. She seemed to have sobered up at the sight of the American and stood with her eyes fixed on him.
“Lara, please take Afina and go upstairs. Afina, you need to have a shower and wash thoroughly. You need to remove any evidence of having fired the gun. If you are ever forced to answer questions about who shot that man, you simply don’t know. Neither of you were ever down here and have no knowledge of anything that has happened tonight.”
“Wait a minute...” Afina started to argue.
“It’s best,” Lara cut her off. “Come on.”
Afina reluctantly went with Lara.
“Take your jacket off,” Powell instructed the American. “Drop it on the floor.”
The American did as asked. The absence of a jacket revealed the American had a gun in a shoulder holster.
“Using two fingers gently take the weapon out and place it on the table. My friend Jenkins has something of a nervous disposition so I strongly advise you to move very slowly as otherwise it will be the last thing you ever do.”
The American looked at Jenkins, who smiled, then he very slowly removed the gun and placed it on the table.
“Well done,” Powell said. “Now move away from the table.”
Powell picked up the gun and was reassured by its feel. An extra weapon certainly wouldn’t go amiss.