Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2)

by syron-jones, p s

  “Come on, girl, get your jacket. WE are going out and WE are going to have some fun.” Tina smiled.

  McCall gave Tina an ‘I can’t really’ look; Tina grabbed McCall’s coat and held it out for her to put on.

  “On the menu tonight, my girl, is fun, fun, fun!” Reluctantly, McCall stood and put on her coat like a six-year-old going to the dentist.

  “Come on, Sammi,” coaxed Tina.

  “Smile, it will be fun. You remember about having fun, don’t you?”

  McCall could remember what fun was like. Fun was running around with Steel.

  As the ship cut through the waves Steel decided to take a walk, and try to get acquainted with the layout of the vessel. Something was going to happen, and this ship or someone on it was closely connected to the forthcoming event. Deck Eight was a massive expanse of stores, bars, coffee shops, all arranged neatly, like a shopping mall, and there was a high-roofed boardwalk. Trees and plants gave the whole place a feel of being in a big city rather than being somewhere you go to get away from the stress of the normal routine of everyday life. Making his way through the masses he wondered why people were rushing, and where did they think they were rushing to?

  Finding a decent place to sit, he settled down on one of the dark wooden chairs that matched the tables that lay dotted round outside next to a bar that had been decked out to look like an old Irish pub. A waitress came to get his order. She was short and had neat black hair tied up in a ponytail, and a friendly round face with a large mouth with a red-lipstick smile. As she spoke her dark brown eyes half closed, making them hard to see.

  Steel ordered a large Balvenie and a beer, he watched the people and wondered how he was going to find his quarry amongst them all. He had over six thousand suspects, and he did not even know what exactly they were suspected of. Hell, he did not even know what he was doing here. One thing was sure: if this mission came to nothing he would never hear the end of it when he got back to the precinct.

  His mind drifted back to the meeting with Darius Johnson at Battersea Park in London. Although Darius, a Jamaican, was an average-sized guy, he had the strength of an ox, and he was strangely handsome with his short hair that had flecks of grey, and the trimmed beard that made him look more like a professor than what he really was.

  Darius and John Steel sat at one of the chess tables, arranged so that people could use them to enjoy a quick game.

  “Looks like I beat you again, Jonny,” Darius said, moving his queen into the checkmate position. He grinned with pleasure as he knocked over Steel’s king. “You must learn to concentrate, my boy.” His accent was heavy with a Caribbean twang. Steel had just smiled and sat back in his chair.

  “Concentrate? Looking at that shirt?”

  The Jamaican man looked down at his clothing and pulled the material around his midriff forwards, the multi-patterned fabric screaming with colour. “What’s wrong with my shirt? Your problem is you have no style.”

  They both laughed. “It’s good to see you again, old friend.” Steel’s voice sounded calm and refreshed, as Darius returned the smile.

  “So what brings you home?” Johnson asked. “Last I heard, you were a detective in New York.”

  Picking up the small bottle of mineral water, Steel took a quick mouthful. “I still am in the homicide department.”

  Darius’s eyes widened. “Homicide? Well, well, you used to cause homicides, it’s ironic that you now detect them. And, what about THEM?” His voice sounded bitter.

  “I get to hear a lot about THEM, don’t worry.”

  Darius nodded as he reset the chessboard. “You always did make the strangest moves for all the right reasons. I can’t believe you suck at chess.”

  Steel shrugged. “In chess there are too many rules. And if you change the rules it confuses your opponent.”

  Darius nodded in agreement. “Okay, so what rules are you bending now?” He could feel Steel’s eyes on him.

  Steel was silent as he moved his pawn into the middle of the board. “Leads in New York have gone silent so I thought I would try back here.”

  Darius’s eyes looked up but his head stayed in the same position. “Uh huh, you know something? Like I say, you don’t just do things without a reason, so what or who are you after?”

  Steel smiled and leant back in his chair, breathing in the fresh air. “God, I miss this sometimes.” He looked round at the people as they went about their day-to-day business, enjoying the morning sun.

  Darius gave Steel a stare that he knew all too well.

  “Do you know a woman named Teresa Benning?” John Steel asked.

  Darius thought for a moment, then shook his head “No, don’t know that one.”

  Steel smiled, which made Darius feel very nervous very quickly. “What?” Darius looked up from the board and sat back in his chair, and gave a look of mistrust.

  “Don’t worry, I know roughly where she is,” the Englishman said.

  Darius gave Steel an uneasy look. “Cool, so where is she?” He followed Steel’s gaze to a woman playing chess at one of the other tables. She was pretty, with long red hair, large blue eyes, and sensuous full pouting lips. “So what do you need me to do?” That was when the Jamaican man realised that his being here was no coincidence.

  “Nothing much. Just, you know, talk to her and keep her busy for a while.”

  Darius chanced another look over his shoulder at the redhead. “And you will be.....?”

  He turned back to find no one was listening. Steel had disappeared.

  “Man,” he muttered to himself.

  “I hate it when he does that.”

  Teresa Benning’s apartment was a minute’s walk away from the park, set above a small grocery store, and the entrance was a red door at the side of the shop, leading to the apartment’s staircase. As John Steel approached this entrance he checked for signs of cameras or alarms, and he smiled, relieved that there appeared to be none. Picking the lock took moments as the ‘bump’ key found its mark, and with a click, he was inside.

  Pulling the door closed but leaving it slightly ajar, Steel took out a dentist’s mirror and scanned for an alarm. He almost seemed disappointed at how easy this breakin was, and he thought for a moment that the information he had been given might be false, but he had to check it out nevertheless. Once upstairs he found that the flat was neat and potted plants filled every room; there was a long corridor that had the kitchen at one end and the sitting room at the other, and in the middle of the wooden-floored hallway were doors to the bedroom and a bathroom. The walls of the hallway were painted terracotta and the ceiling was white with Victorian style edgings, while the doors to each room were gloss white as were the skirting boards, giving the illusion that the space was longer than it actually was.

  He started his search in the kitchen; here there was a brown marble-effect vinyl floor, pine wood cupboards, and work surfaces standing out against pure white walls. He carefully looked through drawers and made notes of the photographs and postcards magnetically attached to the refrigerator door. They were cards sent from various locations and all from a couple named ‘Stewart’. He took one last look around, then proceeded to the bathroom, but the white-tiled room held no secrets, and, with a shrug, he entered the bedroom. The pink coloured walls clashed with the brass bed and the white furnishings, and Teresa Benning’s clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe, arranged in almost military fashion. Steel smiled at the thought of the phrase, aware that most military people he knew were actually not the tidiest of people. He started to have a bad feeling as he left the bedroom and entered the sitting room; so far, he had found nothing untoward.

  As he looked round, Steel noticed that the apartment had been perfectly set out—maybe too perfectly.

  The sitting room was long, with a large window on the wall opposite the door, a fireplace with a dark wood surround in the middle of the left wall, and the flooring was the same as that of the hallway, as was the paintwork. Facing the fireplace in the middle
of the floor was a couch upholstered in black material, and near the window on the right wall was a computer perched on a small desk. Steel took his time looking at the room as he made his way to the desk, as he did not want to miss anything. Sitting in the swivel chair he turned on the computer. He guessed that she was likely to have a password on the PC; he smiled as, true enough, the screen showed the ‘password’ request prompt. He had seen nothing to give him a clue as to what it was, but searching through a drawer at the desk he found her passport, then typed in her date of birth which triggered the resounding ‘Ding’ for failure. Then he remembered that on the refrigerator she had put up many types of post-it notes as reminders for her, itemizing shopping requirements, and the names of people who had called. He smiled to himself, thinking, could she be that obvious?

  He tilted up the keyboard, and felt a wave of disappointment. There, sellotaped to the plastic panel’s underside, was a small piece of paper with the word ‘UNITY1’ written on it. He frowned and typed in the letters and the screen opened up to him. Looking at his watch, Steel knew that his friend Darius would not be able to stall her forever, so he had to move fast. Her folders drew a blank so he went for emails. She had several spams from weight loss companies, dating agencies and so on, the normal stuff that clogs up the in-box, but then he saw several letters from ‘The Stewarts’.

  He clicked on to the latest one and his eyes widened as he read:

  Dear Teresa,

  Hope you are well and everything is going well at work.

  We have found the perfect trip. Also Daddy says that NEPTUNE is good as gold.

  All the best,

  The Stewarts

  He closed down the computer and sat back to think.

  Steel had an uneasy feeling as he said the words, “What the hell is Neptune?” His words faded into a whisper, and realised that he had to go and find Darius—his Jamaican friend was a wealth of information, and his memory was almost computer-like in that he remembered every fact he encountered: if anyone knew what the strange words meant it would be him.

  Darius was sitting near to the window outside a local pub just round the corner from Teresa Benning’s apartment, quietly sipping his hot tea. He studied his watch. Damn it, Jonny, he thought to himself. Where the hell are you?

  He had waited nearly ten minutes after she had left him at that very pub; they had played chess in the park and talked until she noticed the time and insisted she had to go to work. Darius, ever the gentleman, had walked her as far as the pub before she kissed him on the cheek for his gallantry and left. He looked behind him to see if Steel was approaching from the street. No luck. He cursed under his breath, thinking the worst. He imagined Teresa coming home and finding John Steel there, but he knew that his friend was too slick to allow such a thing to happen. He shook the thought from his head and turned back to take another sip of the tea. “Jesus!” he cried out at the sight of Steel sitting in the chair opposite.

  A plump barmaid arrived. She had black hair that matched the colour of the skirt and waistcoat of her uniform, and her white blouse strained to hold her overly large breasts, and black stockings were stretched over her chubby short legs. “What can I get you?” she asked, chewing gum as she spoke.

  Steel looked up at her and smiled, noting that her round face was remarkably pretty. “Just a coffee for now, thank you,” he replied. She blushed, returning his smile.

  Darius shook his head. “Man, what it is with you and women?” he asked in exasperation.

  Steel sat back, using his innocent expression.

  “Okay, Casanova, what did you find at her place?” Darius asked, taking another sip after blowing on the fresh brew.

  “I don’t know. There was something to do with NEPTUNE, and I found an email from friends named ‘The Stewarts’ but that was obviously a cover for something.” He shrugged and picked up the menu card. “Have you heard of anything called NEPTUNE on your travels?”

  Darius shook his head. “Other than being the name of a Roman god and several ships and space craft, what can I say?”

  Steel knew that asking him was a long shot, and then, at the table opposite theirs, Steel noticed that there was a man reading a newspaper. As he lifted it to put the pages back to their original fold, Steel caught a glimpse of the front page.

  The English detective waited until the man left, leaving the tabloid on the table, then shot across to grab it before anyone else had the chance. He held the paper up, hiding his face.

  “Hey, man, do you want to share what you’re doing with the rest of the class?” Darius enquired.

  Steel folded the paper down, and Darius noted the huge grin of satisfaction on his face.

  “What, you won the lotto? Not that you need the money.”

  Steel turned the paper round, displaying the front page to his friend. New ship launched, read the headline. New flagship of the ocean travel group launched today. THE NEPTUNE is the largest passenger ship ever built at 2,700 feet long and able to hold over 7,500 passengers.

  Darius’s mouth fell open. “Do you think that?” Steel nodded wildly.

  The barmaid brought Steel his coffee, and he smiled and thanked her.

  “Well, my friend, I think I better get ready for a trip,” John Steel said.

  Darius sat back and put his cup down.

  “You got a feeling about this boat?” Steel nodded and sipped his coffee.

  “Well, my friend, I hope they got insurance.”

  THREE

  Steel snapped back to reality as a tannoy message announced they were about to enter international waters. He looked over to see two men playing chess; he smiled and headed off towards one of the restaurants. Finding a spot in a corner of the room by the long glass window he settled himself; picking up the menu card he perused its contents but studied the outside world with more interest. Over six thousand people were on the ship, or to be more precise over six thousand needles in one hell of a big haystack. He needed something, anything, he did not really have a plan, that wasn’t his way; he felt that plans could go wrong. On the other hand, sometimes they helped. There had been a reason they had put the ship’s name down, but what was it? Whatever the reason, he had to find it and fast.

  A smiling Asian woman came over and took his order.

  “Just a coffee, thanks.” Steel could feel her eyes on him. She was attractive with long black hair that had been pinned up at the back; she had a slim figure and curves in all the right places.

  “Maybe something later then, sir?” Her voice was sultry.

  “Yes, maybe later.” His reply was just as predictable as her question, but as she turned and walked away Steel smiled to himself, thinking about Darius’s remarks about him and his effect on women.

  The restaurant was half empty, with families and screaming children too excited to either eat or take a nap. People moved about slowly without purpose, as the attraction of the need to be somewhere had finally subsided and they came to realise that there was no place to rush to.

  A couple entered who immediately caught his eye. The woman was around six foot tall with long blonde hair and a red-and-white checked dress that hugged every curve of her body, and her large peach-shaped backside seemed to perfectly match her large breasts.

  Steel chuckled to himself: the man was around five foot six with thick-rimmed glasses, and a pencil moustache, and his round face betrayed his nervousness. As a waitress seated them not far from his table, Steel could not help but smile at the incongruity of the pair.

  In the far corner of the room Steel noticed a man sitting alone at the bar. Normally such a loner would not be noticed amongst the many who were sitting on their own, but something made Steel nervous, something about the man just wasn’t right. Steel watched the man as he tried to give the impression that he was watching the football on the large wall television. John Steel couldn’t make out the man’s height due to his slouched demeanour, and he looked as if he was making an effort to be inconspicuous. He had shoulder-length brown
hair which almost covered his square-jawed features. He was in his mid-thirties and had the beginnings of a suntan, from which Steel surmised he might have recently spent time in the Middle East or Africa. Steel watched intently as the man scribbled in his small notebook, only looking up to assess his surroundings. The Englishman broke his gaze, drank the remaining contents of his coffee cup, and stood up. This trip was fourteen days long and he needed to find out why this ship’s name was so important; the problem, however was, that he did not even know if he was even in the right place. All he knew for certain was that NEPTUNE was important.

  McCall sat at her desk sipping her coffee and looking out of the window as the rain came down in sheets. The cascade of water streaming down the misty panes obscured her view. Flashes of lightning clung to the rivers of rainwater and distant rumbles of thunder were lost in the melody of the New York traffic below.

  Mountains of files filled the corner of her desk, but she had no enthusiasm for the hours of paperwork. The adventure she’d shared with the Englishman, John Steel, had given her an insight into a darker but more exiting side of the job and she wanted that right now. She looked over to the empty chair next to her desk and smiled softly at a memory. She almost jumped out of her seat when the phone on her desk rang.

  “Detective McCall, Homicide.” She listened while grabbing a pen and noting down an address on a pad of post-it notes that lay next to the phone. As she stood up, Tooms and Tony looked over towards her.

  “What’s up?” Tooms asked, instinctively grabbing his coat, guessing they’d be leaving.

  “We got a fresh one,” McCall answered as she spotted Detective Jenny Thompson coming from the coffee room.

  “Jenny, get your coat, you’re riding with me.”

  The fresh-faced detective nodded eagerly. Tooms walked over to McCall just as she had opened her desk drawer.

  “Have you heard anything from Steel?” he asked. She looked up and growled:

  “He is on vacation, on a cruise ship!” She slammed the drawer and as she shoved the small notebook into her jacket, a post-it note sailed gently down to the floor. As Tooms turned, he accidentally knocked the piece of paper under the desk. As the paper moved out of sight the words STEEL. CHECK CALLAN INDUSTRIES disappeared.