The Killing Moon

by Michael Robinson

  Part Three

  Kenya

  Chapter Sixty-nine

  Rob wasted little time in getting out of Edinburgh. Within half an hour of fleeing the scene he had hotwired a car and made his way down the A1 towards Newcastle. He had nothing in the way of luggage, not that the staff at Newcastle airport were particularly bothered. He did however have over ten thousand pounds in cash, most of which he managed to change into US dollars at the departure lounge at Newcastle airport. The passport which Jessica had provided him with was more than adequate against the unprying eyes of a bored and uninterested border patrol officer who simply stamped his passport and waved him through.

  Luck was also on Rob's side as they did not even bother to check him, making sure he could escape the country with his medication. While Rob was at the airport, he purchased several newspapers, gathering what information he could on the missing girl. One even had a picture of Charlotte Beaumont and Amelia together, with Amelia holding a lion teddy bear. Rob still had two hours to kill before departure, so he went to the internet cafe in the departure lounge and researched as much as he could in the way of information that he could get off the net.

  Within three hours Rob was on his way to Malaga, the nearest airport to the Costa Del Sol. He felt sure he could get some sort of passage into Africa from there, possibly through Gibraltar. However, Rob did not have a contact so he would have to make it up as he went along. At the same time Rob knew, now he'd left the UK, he was well and truly on his own.

  Unbeknown to Rob, within six hours Terry Galagher had men waiting for him. Once Rob was out of the airport and in a taxi, the red BMW followed Rob on his journey to the Costa Del Sol. It wasn't until Rob was nearing the beach that he noticed the BMW deliberately following him. Soon, the taxi was on the strip next to the beach along with all the bars and nightclubs adjacent to the strip. As Rob looked out of the taxi window he started to wonder if the taxi driver was in on whoever was following him. Rob quickly dismissed this but again asked himself why he was being followed, after all, nobody knew he was here.

  He asked the taxi to stop just as it was nearing dusk, and tried not to notice as the BMW behind pulled in. Rob started to walk towards the beach, hoping to lose his pursuers. There was two of them, both sporting Everton football shirts with their haircuts to match. Rob crossed the road and in between the bars he found an alley. He quickly ducked down the alley and hid behind a skip. Both men followed. Rob quickly jumped from behind the skip, punching the first one in the face. As he turned his attention to the second assailant, the scouser pulled out a gun. It was a Browning revolver. Then in a soft Liverpool accent he said, "Calm down, our lad. You've just broke my man's nose, you've got nowt to worry about. Our gaffer just wants a quick word."

  Within half an hour Rob was sat in a private cubicle in a nightclub called Romeo's along with his two pursuers and Terry Galagher.

  Chapter Seventy

  Terry Galagher was a villain through and through. His shiny bald head and lines on his face were tell-tale signs of a man that had a lot to worry about. He sat there smoking a cigar, and drinking champagne, not even considering the no smoking signs in the club. Gallagher didn't care. He would do what he wanted in his own club, and when Harry asked him for a favour, he would deliver. After all, Harry knew a lot more about his past than even his third wife. Too many drunken nights bragging, but to be fair, Harry had never asked him for anything before.

  As Rob sat down, Terry looked at one of his henchmen, blood all the way down his shirt. Terry soon realised that Rob was a fighter. He turned to one of his men and said, "Go and get yourself cleaned up."

  With that, both men made for the exit, and Rob noticed Terry nod to the second henchman who had the gun. Terry then turned his attention to Rob. "So, you're the lad who's going looking for the missing girl, are you?"

  Rob's mind raced. How did this villain even know he was here, let alone what he was up to? He played it down. Rob said nothing. Terry noted.

  "I know, lad," replied Terry. "Resistance to interrogation, eh? They teach it in the SAS. I've read Andy McNab," he paused, "I've got a plane taking off. He's picking up a load of blood diamonds. It can drop you off in Kenya, if you want to take it. The choice is yours, lad. It's either that, or you spend the night sleeping on the beach where the local Guardia police will kick the fuck out of you at some point."

  For the first time Rob spoke. "Yeah it sounds like a better option."

  Terry nodded and finished his cigar, then replied, "Okay then, lad, follow me up to my office."

  Terry made his way through the club, as Rob followed. Some of the customers didn't know who he was, others looked on in awe. Everyone made a beeline. Soon, Rob and Terry were in his office along with the two henchmen who had followed Rob from the airport. Terry sat in his leather chair behind his desk and offered Rob a seat. Then he turned his attention to his heavies. "Get this man a Jack and coke and get me one while you're at it."

  As Rob tasted the alcohol, it felt good and warm and for a second Rob started to wind down as Terry was talking. Rob did not notice the henchman behind him with the cloth in his hand covered in chloroform. Soon the heavy with the gun had covered Rob's mouth and nose, and within a second Rob was unconscious. He would not wake until several hours later.

  Chapter Seventy-one

  Elizabeth Price Jones had met with Sergeant Knott of the SAS and was quite happy with the way the Foster investigation was going. A woman in her position had little difficulty in tracking Foster using all at her disposal, including MI6 and GCHQ. She even had an agent on the ground when Rob was picked up by two heavies in the Costa Del Sol. Sergeant Knott explained how he was just about to pass Rob for SAS when he fell apart at the last hurdle. Other than this, Rob was a fully trained SAS operative. Again, this was political music to Elizabeth Price Jones's ears.

  Fortunately, there was a meeting with the prime minister at Chequers this weekend. Most of the cabinet would be there, but it was an ideal opportunity to corner the PM, and explain how Rob Foster's breakout and evasion from capture with the view to retrieving the lost little girl, would be an ideal news headline. It could even be covered up under the guise of an SAS operation. Sometimes the mere mention of the SAS were good ratings figures for whichever government was in power.

  As Sergeant Knott was also aware of what Rob Foster was up to by this stage, he explained that once he found the girl the best way back to the UK would be across the Mediterranean. The Home Secretary took this on board and knew full well that HMS Iron Duke was in the area, captained by Jack Middleton. If things went according to plan it could be a good outcome all round. Then she questioned herself, what would be done about Foster on his return?

  Rob felt like he was in a large coffin when he awoke. Both his legs and his arms were shackled together with plastic seals, plus he had a dry mouth. Soon however, he realised he wasn't in a coffin, but was in a light aircraft. The aircraft was bare, with the exception of the two pilots in front. Rob noticed that one was a woman and the other pilot manning the controls was broad and stocky. It was the woman who noticed Rob staring at first. Soon she was pointing a pistol at him. In a South African accent, she said, "This is a tranquiliser pistol. If you try anything, this'll knock you out for another six hours, so just behave until we get where we're going."

  The other pilot looked over his shoulder at Rob but said nothing and returned to flying the plane. As Rob looked out of the window in the light aircraft, beneath him he saw what looked like a mixture of sand, shrubbery, and occasionally the odd wild animal. The pilot was obviously flying low to avoid radar. At the same time Rob knew he was flying south by south-west, because of where the sun was in the sky. Rob turned to the woman and asked, "Where we going?"

  She looked at him, still with the weapon in her hand, then replied, "We're not going anywhere. You're getting dropped at Mandera Airport in Kenya. Should be another three or four hours depending on weather."

  Then for the first time the male pilot sp
oke, again with a deep South African accent. "Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. We won't ask you any questions so don't ask us any. Maybe we'll let you live, eh?"

  Chapter Seventy-two

  Mandera Airport looked just as Rob had imagined as the pilot taxied the runway. It was sparse, basic and obviously did very little in the way of security. As the male pilot went to check in at arrivals, the female undid Rob's restraints. Rob managed to check his pockets, he still had three vials of his medication and it looked like he still had all his money in US dollars.

  The South African woman just looked at him and then said, "Off you go." Rob doubted there would be CCTV in the airport and so covertly as he could he made for the fence. Once out of the vicinity, Rob needed to find where Amelia and her father were staying. There may be signs or evidence as to where they had been taken. After doing his research at Newcastle Airport, Rob knew the name of the farm where both were housed. He climbed in a taxi, and went straight to that destination.

  It was getting near dark when Rob arrived, and there was almost a chill in the African air. Rob asked the taxi driver questions on the way to the farm and he soon discovered the farm was regularly rented out via a contact at Mandera Airport. "That was worth knowing," thought Rob to himself, the chances are that the contact must have been in on it.

  Whilst at the farm, Rob sat and waited until it was fully dark. He quickly scaled the fence and it was obvious which hut Amelia and her father had been placed in as there was a police line over the door. However, nobody was guarding it. Rob ducked under the police tape, entered the shack and closed the door behind him.

  Once inside, he felt for a light switch, the welcoming click lit up the room. The furniture was on its side and there were obvious signs of a struggle. Rob then checked the other rooms, and noticed the back door was also unlocked. It was obviously planned. Rob then returned to the living room. On the floor, matted into the carpet, was a large stain of dried blood. Rob quickly realised they had severed Jonathan's arm in this room. He'd seen enough.

  Rob made one last inspection of the room. As he removed the cushions from the sofas, he found something that made his blood turn cold. It was a lion teddy bear, and Rob remembered the photograph he'd seen of Amelia with her favourite toy. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. As covertly as he could, he turned off the light switch and made his way back towards Mandera. The next thing was to find a room for the night. Once he'd done that, he'd return to Mandera Airport and look for the travel agent.

  Chapter Seventy-three

  Rob had found a cheap and nasty room for the night in a basic hotel near the airport. He'd checked in using a false name. Not that anyone at the African Castle Hotel was interested. Rob was up early the next day, had a quick breakfast of cereal and was at Mandera Airport for seven a.m.

  Rob bought a British newspaper and then sat in a corner and waited. Most of the kiosks began to open at nine a.m., but the kiosk Rob was most interested in, with the word 'Safari' above it, did not open until half past nine. Rob spotted the African opening the shutters and just from his body language alone Rob knew from instinct that this man was involved. He did not want to move too soon, so instead he carried on with his newspaper and watched.

  During the course of the morning several people approached the kiosk. Rob noted as sums of money were handed over, and at the same time, the African from behind the counter would direct them personally to the taxi rank. Rob saw a pattern emerge, the fourth person who the African directed to the taxi rank, Rob decided to follow. From a distance, he could see the host packing them into a taxi, then the agent walked around the corner. Rob saw him get into a yellow Fiat. This type of vehicle was common in Africa. The African sat in the car smoking whilst on the phone. Rob saw his chance.

  Rob circled the vehicle from a distance. He then began to approach from behind, but out of view of the mirrors. Just as the African had finished his call, Rob opened the car door. Before the guy had time to react, Rob was in the seat next to him, and with his right hand, punched hard into the man's temple, knocking him out cold. Rob felt for a pulse. He wasn't dead. Rob knew he did not have a lot of time. He looked around to see if anyone else was in the staff car park, there was no one. He took the keys from the culprit's pocket and then as quickly as he could, opened the boot.

  The guy was thrown in the back along with the spare tyre, the jack and other travel items. Soon, Rob was driving away from the airport to interrogate his prisoner. No one in Mandera Airport would notice a thing.

  Chapter Seventy-four

  Rob found what he was looking for within ten miles of leaving Mandera Airport. It was a discrete location. In fact, the last town must have been five miles away. Rob parked a kilometre away from the main road on an old dirt track, surrounded by a handful of trees. He opened the boot, the guy was awake but weary. Rob grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him out of the vehicle. To get his attention he kneed him in the groin. "What's your name?" Rob asked.

  "Abass," he replied wearily. "What have I done, sir?" he continued.

  "What happened to the little girl, Abass, that was taken with her father."

  Abass's eyes turned to the right as if to think of an excuse, it was a giveaway sign to Rob knowing full well that whatever was going to come out of Abass's mouth now would be a lie.

  "I know nothing, sir, honestly, I know nothing! Ask police! Ask police! I know nothing!"

  Abass was still wary and was not way capable of stopping Rob. Rob took Abass's arm and twisted it and with his left arm punched the shoulder, breaking Abass's arm straight away. Abass screamed out in pain.

  "Okay, hurt me no more, hurt me no more," screamed Abass.

  Rob remained calm throughout. "Okay, tell me what you know."

  "I sold the Englishman the holiday to safari. I put them in the car. I do not know more than that, sir! I think they were taken by the East Side crew!"

  Again, Rob knew from instinct that Abass was lying. Rob began to squeeze where the arm was broken. At the same time, Abass howled again in pain.

  "Okay, okay, I know, I know. The leader of the East Side crew is Mousa. He asked me to get him white girls. He pays me good money if I tip him off."

  "Well done, Abass," replied Rob. "What else can you tell me about him?"

  "He lives in Somalia, he is a powerful warlord, I think he will have taken the girl to be traded on the market."

  "Do you know whereabouts in Somalia that Mousa lives?" demanded Rob.

  "I can't say, I can't say, he'll kill me!"

  Rob squeezed Abass's arm harder.

  "Okay, okay, Baidoa, I take you there!"

  "How long does it take to drive to Baidoa?" Rob asked

  "Eight or nine hours!"

  Rob punched Abass again. This time he grabbed him by the hair and forced him back towards the rear of the Fiat. Rob checked Abass's pockets for his mobile phone, and when he retrieved it, slung Abass back into the boot. Rob now had a clear idea of where his target was. He slammed the boot door down on Abass, and climbed back inside the vehicle.

  He checked the fuel gauge. There was just over half a tank. Hopefully there would be a filling station on the way. Rob put the car into first gear and started towards Baidoa. Rob's objective was now clear. Hopefully he would find the girl. Rob also hoped he would get the chance to kill Mousa.

  Chapter Seventy-five

  The road to Somalia was long, hot and dry. After he had left Mandera boundary, the road almost became a dirt track. Occasionally Rob would see the odd people carrier or truck. Rob consciously made a point of checking the mirrors to see if he was being followed, but there were no obvious signs of a tail. All the time, the odd blast of wind would come on the road scattering red dust across his path. After two hours, Rob had found a filling station. Rob knew full well he would be able to pay in US Dollars.

  Once he had filled the car and paid the attendant, he selected a few cold drinks from the fridge. The food in the same fridge did not look like it was safe. The last th
ing Rob wanted was to have the trots all night. Returning to the Fiat, Rob took out Abass's phone. He googled the address for Mousa. At this stage, Rob did not know if it was in a built-up area or a discrete location. When Rob clicked onto Google Earth, it was a mixture of both. The houses looked old and run down, almost like a shanty town. However, there was a certain distance between each individual letting. Rob doubted very much if any of the neighbours would come out if they heard a commotion. This was all in Rob's favour.

  Rob looked at the clock. It was two p.m. With any luck, he should reach Mousa's house by nightfall. Rob just hoped Amelia was still there. He put the Fiat in first gear and re-joined the dirt road, never once bothering to check on the culprit involved in the boot.

  Chapter Seventy-six

  As Rob drove on and on towards Somalia, the road became more worn. However, the vegetation started to change. As opposed to dust roads, there was more in the way of greenery. Rob did not know where Kenya ended and Somalia began but he was sure it must be close if he had not crossed it already. The further east he went, Rob made a point of checking for road signs. Also, Rob had to plan what to do if there was a checkpoint. In this part of the world, it was doubtful that there would be one, but there was always a chance.

  Soon, Rob saw a sign for Badoia and estimated it was about an hour away from his objective. The closer he got, the more stressed Rob became. Every scenario that he could think of, ran through Rob's mind. Just as it was getting dark, in the distance Rob saw various lights. Rob figured some must be street lights; others must be for the local Seven Elevens. He took out Abass's phone, and typed in Mousa's address on the SatNav, in theory, this should take Rob straight there.