by Bill Ward
Powell was relieved a little by that news. “What happened?”
“Delivery of a parcel. I was in the kitchen. Lara opened the door before I could say anything. Two men grabbed her and pushed their way into the house before I could respond. I came out of the kitchen to find two guns pointed at me. I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have opened the bloody door without checking with me first.”
“Like you said, if they had wanted her dead they would have just killed her. I’m a bit surprised they didn’t shoot you.”
“Might have been preferable to having your underwear stuffed halfway down my throat.”
“At least they were clean.”
“I guess there orders were not to shoot anyone unless absolutely necessary.”
“Anything distinctive about them?”
“They were professionals and they both had American accents.”
“Americans again. Let’s go back to the bar and discuss what we do next. By the way, when did all this happen?”
“They came about ten thirty.”
“Three hours ago. So you don’t know there’s been a terrorist attack in Brighton?”
“What’s happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in the taxi.”
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Barnes telephoned Crawford and insisted they meet immediately. It was early evening and he needed a drink. Thirty minutes later they were sitting in a secluded corner of the Mayfair club.
“It’s been quite a day,” Barnes said. “Was this your work?”
“God no. We aren’t organised yet.”
“I hope you’re telling me the bloody truth… So if it wasn’t you, who the hell was it?”
“Good question.”
“Has Al-Hashimi intentionally misled us? He said the plan was to hit the Conservative conference in Blackpool. Was he lying?”
“I guarantee he wasn’t lying. No one can go through what he did and not tell the truth. I fear there must have been a second cell operating, which Al-Hashimi knew nothing about.”
“So you think the plan was to hit both conferences?” Barnes asked, not sounding convinced.
“It looks that way. On the plus side, someone is doing our job for us. Almost fifty people dead including those shot on the pier. Today won’t be forgotten quickly.”
“I don’t share your excitement at the thought of so many people killed,” Barnes responded. “And we were lucky it wasn’t many more.”
“Casualties of war.”
“These were members of the public not soldiers fighting a war.”
“We’re all fighting this war in case you hadn’t noticed. Nine eleven we lost almost three thousand civilians.”
“Back to the present. With what’s happened today it doesn’t really seem necessary to go ahead with any further attacks. The outrage is already at maximum level.”
“Our plans are too far advanced to halt now. Anyway, there’s no harm in ramping up the pressure. We can’t afford for this to be all forgotten in a few months when we need you guys on board with putting ground forces in to Syria.”
“I wouldn’t have thought we were essential anymore. The Russians, French and you guys are bombing the hell out of ISIS in Syria.”
“With the support of the Russians, Assad is winning the war against ISIS. Having won the war, at some point he will invite ground forces to help establish the peace. You don’t want to be left out in the cold. We can’t have the Russians taking the lead role in determining the future of the Assad regime.”
“I broadly agree but the main reason we agreed to work with you on this operation is to reverse the terrible decline in spending on our security. We are in favour of bombing ISIS in Syria but ground forces is a whole different matter.”
“We can’t have half measures this time around. We need to put an end to ISIS.”
“I hear what you say but sadly, ISIS isn’t going anywhere no matter what steps we take. What we need is to massively invest in detecting and preventing terrorism.”
“We plan to wipe them off the face of the earth. The Russians and French feel the same way.”
“Let’s get back to the present. Brown is on the way back to the States. What will you do with him?”
“He’ll be deployed somewhere well out of the way for the immediate future.”
“This morning you said if I found where he was being held you’d deal with the problem.”
“And I have dealt with it. You couldn’t locate him so I decided the best option was to demand his immediate return. We have a job for Brown, then he is likely to meet with an unfortunate accident.”
“We still need to deal with the woman.”
“We picked her up earlier today.”
“You did? Why didn’t you tell me?” Barnes asked with a broad smile.
“I’m telling you now. You said we needed to move quickly and we did.”
“What do you mean you picked her up?” Barnes asked. “I thought the idea was simply to silence her.”
“I have given the matter more thought and decided she can be an invaluable part of our plans. Originally we were going to use Al-Hashimi as the scapegoat for our actions but that idea’s gone down the tube. Who would make a better terrorist than a half Arabic woman, who has been radicalised. Perhaps you can build some back story to support the idea?”
Barnes smiled in appreciation. “I do believe you have come up with an excellent solution. It will also explain why she’s been running around trying to divert blame towards Al-Hashimi. When do you move ahead with the next step?”
“By this time next week we can be toasting our success.”
“I’ll pay for the champagne,” Barnes promised.
“Sounds good to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Powell and Jenkins arrived back at the bar to find Afina and Mara drinking wine and celebrating their escape.
“Did you hear the news?” Afina asked. Then quickly added, “Where’s Lara?”
“She’s been taken,” Powell answered. “I found Jenkins tied up back at the house.”
“Who’s taken her?” Afina asked.
“We don’t know,” Jenkins replied. “But they had American accents.”
“Shit!” Afina swore.
“What’s the news from the pier?” Powell asked.
Mara answered first. “The terrorist is dead. Seems he ran out of ammunition but saved the last bullet for himself.”
“Pity,” Powell said. “The authorities would have liked to interrogate him.”
“I’d have bloody liked to interrogate him,” Mara said. “I’d have cut his balls off for making me jump in that water.”
Everyone laughed.
“What are we going to do about Lara?” Afina asked. “I don’t like her but I hope she’s all right.”
“They could have killed her at the house,” Jenkins replied. “But they didn’t so they obviously need her alive for some reason.”
“Have you spoken to Brian?” Afina asked.
“On the way over here, “ Powell answered. “He says they’ve released the American we captured. Seems they had no choice.”
Afina’s face turned pale. “Could he be responsible for kidnapping Lara?”
“Not directly. He was put on a plane back to the States early this morning.”
“So what are we going to do next?”
“Jenkins and I are going up to London shortly to meet with Brian and we have just one lead we can pursue to try and get Lara back. Afina, can you hold the fort here?”
“Of course. What are you going to do?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to the Mayfair club.”
Powell decided to visit the club by himself. He wanted to appear interested in joining rather than arrive in a threatening group. It was just after six when he walked into the club. He couldn’t help but be immediately impressed by the opulent surroundings. He’d heard of exclusive clubs for the rich and famous but it was his first time inside one. Everything about
the place cried out establishment.
There was a small desk in the hallway to greet members and keep out any unwanted visitors. Beyond the desk was a circular hallway with a large stone staircase leading to the next floor. There were paintings on the walls of various important men from history. He smiled at the absence of any pictures of women. This was definitely a club for gentlemen.
Powell had dressed in a smart suit and tie to try and not look out of place in the club. He approached the man behind the desk, who looked up and smiled. He carried himself well and Powell suspected there was every chance he had once served in the armed forces or possibly the police.
“Can I help you, sir?” the man asked politely.
“I hope you can. I was thinking of joining your club. A friend of mine has recommended you and as I was in the area, I thought I’d drop in and see if it’s possible to take a look around?”
“Have you filled out the membership application, sir?”
“Not yet, it’s a bit early for that. Need to see if it’s the right sort of place first. Although from what my friend tells me, it does seem like an excellent establishment.”
“And may I ask the name of your friend?”
“Mr. Barnes. We’re in the same line of work. He’s not here now by any chance, is he? He could show me around the place.”
“I’m really not sure, sir. We have hundreds of members. You could try calling his mobile.”
Powell took out his mobile without hesitation and called Jenkins. After a second he ended the call.
“Went straight to voicemail. Do you have to turn phones off inside the club?” Powell had spotted the sign reminding members not to use phones within the club. He believed the man on the desk was testing him by telling him to call his friend.
“I forgot, sir. We do indeed have a rule against using phones within the club. Mr. Barnes probably has it switched off.”
“Do you know what Mr. Barnes looks like?” Powell asked. “Perhaps you could check if he’s here?”
“I’m afraid I can’t leave my desk, sir. By the way, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Brown.”
“That’s odd. You don’t look like the previous Mr. Brown.”
“I’m his replacement.”
“Well, sir, I suggest you call the membership secretary, who I am sure will be more than pleased to arrange a visit to view the club.” The man looked down at his desk, signalling the conversation was at an end.
Powell didn’t see much point in continuing to stand in front of the desk. Perhaps it had been a mistake to give his name as Brown but he had hoped the name would get him to meet Barnes.
There was a further possibility, which was that Barnes wasn’t even the man’s real name. If that was the case then Powell’s approach had been doomed from the outset. Powell believed the man behind the desk knew the man who went by the name of Barnes and when he learned, as he undoubtedly would, about Powell’s visit, the news would put Barnes on alert.
Powell decided he would try and rattle Barnes. He had nothing to lose.
“Could you please inform Mr. Barnes I stopped by?” Powell asked.
The man looked up to reply. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”
“And perhaps you could let him know I was hoping to catch up with him to ask about Lara.” Powell didn’t wait for any further acknowledgement but turned and left.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Brian had given up his evening to spend it with Powell and Jenkins, studying everyone leaving the club in the hope of spotting Barnes. Powell had only the roughest description of Barnes and believed it would probably fit half the men who were members of the club but there was a small chance Brian would actually recognise Barnes as someone who worked for the Security Services.
They had been waiting an hour and were beginning to doubt the wisdom of standing outside in the cold when Powell noticed the man from behind the desk leave the club.
“Jenkins, let’s follow him,” Powell said on an impulse. “Brian, are you all right to stay here a bit longer?” Powell was feeling decidedly bored and following the man seemed infinitely preferable to standing doing nothing.
“Loving every minute of it,” Brian answered sarcastically.
“I’ll be in touch soon to let you know what we’re doing,” Powell promised.
Powell and Jenkins followed the man at a brisk pace for ten minutes in the direction of Soho, until he ducked inside a pub. It looked a place for locals rather than the tourists. Perhaps it was where he stopped off every night on the way home.
“I can’t go in,” Powell said. “He’d recognise me. I think he’s been in the forces in the past so see if you can get a few drinks in him and share some experiences.”
“At last, a job I’m perfectly suited for.”
“Try to get him to make an evening of it.”
“My pleasure,” Jenkins said, smiling broadly.
“I’m going to rejoin Brian. Let me know in an hour or so how it’s going.”
“Will do.”
Powell retraced his steps and found Brian restlessly slapping his hands together to keep warm. He probably hadn’t been on an outside stakeout for a great many years. Twenty years before, neither of them would have thought twice about standing all night in the cold waiting for a sight of their target. Brian had become used to a warm office. There was nowhere indoors from where they could observe people leaving the club so they had little choice but to stand on a street corner. Powell had picked up a couple of Lattes on the way back, which improved their mood for ten minutes.
“We can’t spend all night standing here,” Brian said, after another half an hour. “We’re not exactly inconspicuous.”
“Let’s wait to hear how Jenkins is getting on and then we’ll make a decision on what we do next.”
A short time later Powell’s phone rang and he was glad to see it was Jenkins calling.
“How’s it going?” Powell asked.
“He’s getting our third pint in and we’ve only been here just over an hour. I can’t keep this pace up all night.”
“What’s the plan for the rest of the evening?”
“First, I’ve got to tell you his name. He’s called David Drinkwater. Can you believe that and he drinks beer like a fish. Says he doesn’t touch water. Anyway, David was also in the Paras so we’re already best of friends. He’s single and definitely planning to make a night of it. We’re talking about going for a Chinese later and then he says he has a great club he wants to show me, near Holborn.”
“Keep me informed where you are. Brian and I are freezing our butts off while you enjoy yourself.”
“I’d better get back, I’m supposedly having a piss at the moment.”
Powell ended the call and turned back to Brian. “I think this David Drinkwater can identify Barnes and Jenkins is his new best friend. Let’s go get a drink and I need to make a phone call. I have half an idea.”
Two hours later Powell was at Victoria station to meet Mara and Afina. He’d sent Brian home to his wife and family. Powell was very conscious he asked a great deal of his friend and he never complained or refused his help. And all he received in return was a few steaks and drinks. Powell hoped that one day he might be able to properly return the many favours. For the last year it had all been one way traffic.
“Wow you two look hot,” Powell said in greeting.
“You said we were going clubbing,” Mara responded with a grin. “Just following your instructions.”
“Why are we here?” Afina asked with a note of suspicion. “You are supposed to be finding Lara and I can’t really imagine you wanting to go clubbing.”
“Cheer up, Afina,” Powell encouraged. “This is going to be a fun night out. And I’m not actually going clubbing. You guys are going out with Jenkins and his new friend.”
“That explains why I get a call from Mara saying you’ve spoken to her and we are needed urgently. Then she adds we have to dress to impress. What’s going on, Powell? I don’
t need you setting me up on blind dates. You didn’t call me because you know I would have refused to come.”
“It’s not like that, Afina. I needed to speak with Mara because I wanted to ask her to do something special for me. This isn’t a blind date. It’s a way I hope we can find Lara.”
Afina’s face relaxed. “I’m sorry. In that case tell me what we have to do.”
“I’ll explain in the taxi.”
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Afina and Mara arrived at the bar in Soho after a five minute ride in the taxi. Powell had explained the plan and they were both very clear about their roles. Mara was more enthusiastic than Afina.
Afina led the way into the crowded cocktail bar and spotted Jenkins sitting with a stranger. Afina and Mara walked over to the table.
Jenkins handled the introductions. “This is my girlfriend Afina and her best friend Mara. Girls, this is my new friend David.”
“You lucky bastard Jenks. How did you ever get such a beautiful, young girlfriend?”
“Obviously my good looks,” Jenkins joked.
“Sorry mate, I don’t want to ruin our friendship before it’s started but what good looks? How did you two meet?”
“I’ll tell you later. I think it’s your turn to buy some drinks.” Jenkins realised he was going to have to agree a story with Afina about how they met.
“What would you like to drink, girls?” David asked.
“Sex on the beach,” Mara answered with a mischievous smile.
“Bit pebbly in Brighton isn’t it?”
“Not for me. I like being on top.”
“I already like you, Mara.”
“Of course you do.”
“I’ll have a Margherita, please,” Afina interjected. Then added with a smile, “Before you forget I’m here.”
“Sorry, I’ll be right back with the drinks.”
David went to the bar and Mara sat next to where David had been sitting on the leather seating, which ran all down one side of the bar. Afina took the vacant chair next to Jenkins.