The Killing Moon

by Michael Robinson

  Just then, Amelia shouted, "Look, dolphins!"

  Rob looked to the right to see fins sticking out of the clear blue waters. There were two of them. Rob knew straight away they were not dolphins. It was two sharks that were circling the vessel. They must have been drawn to the craft from the scent of urine in the water. It drew them quicker than a moth to the flame. Rob played along with Amelia, pretending that they were dolphins. Rob and Amelia must have been at sea for eighteen hours now. Both of them were hungry, wet and tired, however, given the circumstances, Amelia seemed to be quite chirpy. This in itself was a great comfort to Rob.

  In the distance, just beyond the horizon, a flare shot up into the sky. The pilot was startled and revved the engine away from the flare, almost directing the floating coffin back towards Libya. Rob looked again and there was a second flare. In the distance two crafts were approaching. "Thank God," Rob said under his breath, "We're saved."

  It took the Royal Navy less than a minute to catch up with the craft in their highly efficient motor craft. At the helm of the first craft, was obviously a Royal Marine. Behind him were three of his colleagues armed with SA80 assault rifles aimed right into the refugees' direction. It was the same with the second motor boat. In less than a minute, the Navy had attached a rope to the bow of the craft. A third raiding craft approached and soon all four vessels were making their way towards a warship in the distance.

  Although the Navy had given everyone on Rob's craft an orange life vest, none were allowed to leave the vessel. There was one raider pulling the craft, one behind on the stern and one starboard side with Royal Marines aimed toward the refugees. As all the craft began to approach the vessel, Rob could easily recognise it as a type 23 frigate. It was HMS Iron Duke.

  Chapter Eighty-nine

  Rob and Amelia were the first to be taken to the mess deck and given medical treatment. The Royal Navy had wasted no time in removing everyone from the floating death trap. Within an hour of every party being back on board HMS Iron Duke, the marines had left explosives in the refugee raft and sunk her to the bottom of the Med. One less raft for the smugglers to use. Amelia looked to be fine, although she was tired and a bit weary, however she was impressed and felt important to be on such a special ship, as Rob had told her.

  Rob gave his medication to the nurse and it was quickly administered. Rob and Amelia were then escorted by two marines to a bunk and a female rating was left with Amelia. Rob was then taken to see the captain. On seeing Rob enter the bridge, Captain Middleton's first words were, "You're a sorry looking sea dog."

  Rob was tired and weary but just responded, "How did you know where to find me, sir?"

  Middleton acknowledged the address of 'sir', it meant a certain mark of respect, in fact, it had scored Rob a few brownie points. "We tracked the phone you had from Somalia. It seemed obvious to someone in Whitehall that you'd be coming via the Med. My orders now are to place you under arrest and hand you over at Portsmouth after we drop the rest of the refugees at Sicily."

  "What happens to the girl?"

  "Again, she'll be handed over to the Navy police at Portsmouth and then taken back to her parents." Jack thought for a second as he looked at Foster. "You've done a hell of a lot to help that family, I don't suppose you'll get many thanks once you get home, but well done, it's a good result."

  "Thank you, sir," replied Rob. "If it's okay, I'd like to be kept with the girl until we reach Pompey."

  "There'll be a wren attached to your quarters for the duration of your journey, if you need anything, ask her, she's under orders to report directly to me. Also, I have Royal Marines on standby, I'm assuming I will not need them. I take it you understand me."

  "Absolutely, sir," replied Rob.

  "Okay, go get yourself cleaned up, the galley will sort you out a meal. Well done again, Foster."

  With that, Rob left the bridge and made his way back to the sleeping quarters. He checked in on Amelia, then got a quick shower. The wren saw to Amelia's needs, helping her shower and dressing her in a clean navy shirt. Portsmouth was three days sail away. Rob slept for most of it.

  Chapter Ninety

  DI Denman had been summoned by Elizabeth Price Jones to Whitehall. Also, she was under orders to pick up Charlotte Beaumont from the Union Jack Club in Waterloo. MI5 had ushered her down there in the night. Denman pulled up at the hotel and parked on the double yellow lines adjacent to the Waterloo Pub. Security soon let the DI in once she showed her credentials and Charlotte Beaumont was in the lobby, looking absolutely shattered.

  As soon as Charlotte saw Denman, she questioned, "What's happened?"

  Denman could not stand to lie to this woman in her darkest hour. 'Fuck the Chief' Denman thought to herself, 'I'm telling her'.

  "There's been a development, Charlotte, we think we've found Amelia. That's all I can tell you for now."

  Soon, both doctor and police officer were making their way across Central London to Whitehall. It would not be long before both were sat in the Home Secretary's office.

  Elizabeth Price Jones was pleased. More than pleased. It was just the story the government needed to remain ahead in the polls. Not only had the little girl been found, but also, she was alive and, by all accounts, well. There were, however, a few loose ends to tie up. The fact was that the DI policewoman, with her instinct, had saved Amelia's life. However, being a politician, and a Home Secretary at that, it was best not to acknowledge it to her.

  As for Charlotte Beaumont, as far as she was concerned, the government had just saved her little girl. It would be very easy for her to sign the documents that needed a signature on. Once that was wrapped up, there would be the usual photographs for the tabloids, but the question still remained: What must she do with Rob Foster?

  Charlotte Beaumont and DI Denman were quickly ushered through at security. The senior politician even came to greet them at the office door, putting on her best empathetic and public smile. Denman could see right through it. A copper of ten years more experience, it wasn't surprising, but Charlotte was just numb. All three ladies sat in comfortable chairs next to a fireplace as Price Jones's secretary brought them all a coffee. The Home Secretary then announced, "The SAS have found your little girl, Mrs Beaumont. She's alive and well and will be arriving in Portsmouth very soon."

  Charlotte took in the information, almost dropping her coffee cup and began to cry profusely. The Home Secretary saw her chance, and quickly put her hand on Charlotte's. It was a skilled orchestrated manoeuvre, in order to win over her compassion. Although not completely unwarranted, after all, Elizabeth Price Jones was human, but she also had her eyes set on the PM's office.

  Denman was the first to speak. "Are you saying Rob Foster is SAS?"

  The Home Secretary started to blush, holding her tongue.

  At that point, Charlotte Beaumont rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, it figures."

  The Home Secretary saw her chance. "DI Denman, thank you so much for your assistance on this case, you will be pleased to hear that you will be put forward for commendation. However, I would like to speak with Mrs Beaumont personally, if you would not mind, could you give us this room?"

  The DI stood up, knowing full well that the Home Secretary was after something, however the Beaumont case had gone far better than anyone had expected. What was the point in rocking the boat now?

  Politely as she could, the DI said, "Yes, ma'am," and headed for the door.

  Charlotte looked up. By now the tears had gone. "We will catch up soon."

  Denman looked at the Home Secretary and Charlotte Beaumont for one last time, and she closed the door. It was a good result.

  Chapter Ninety-one

  It was about eight a.m. when HMS Iron Duke docked in Portsmouth Harbour. Both Amelia and Rob enjoyed the view of coming in from the Solent. In the distance, Rob could make out a submarine in the dry dock. He pointed it out to Amelia "That's HMS Alliance, it's an old submarine they used to use many years ago."

  "What's a submari
ne?" Amelia asked.

  "It's a special boat that sails underwater without being seen."

  "Does that mean it can see dolphins?"

  Rob smiled for the first time in a long time. "Yeah, I suspect it can see dolphins." Rob looked around him, there was only Amelia and Rob on the deck. Rob did not want Amelia to see him handcuffed by the Navy police, who he had no doubt were already in the dock waiting. Rob then said, "Amelia, I bet I can get you off this ship without anybody noticing."

  "How do you mean?" replied Amelia.

  "Well I'll make a bet with you that I can hide you and get you on the other side of the water without anybody noticing."

  "I bet you can't!"

  "Do you want to try it?"

  Amelia thought for a second. "Yeah, okay."

  Rob took the little girl by the hand and said, "Come with me then."

  Walking through the ship, it wasn't long before Rob had found what he was looking for. It was an old sailor's kitbag, a handle on the side and a twisted rope at the top. Also, he found a Royal Marine's uniform with a green beret to match. Soon he was walking down the gangway with Amelia hidden in the Navy holdall and, without being noticed, quickly walked past the Navy Police towards the exit.

  Captain Jack Middleton was informed within an hour that Rob and Amelia had gone missing. Middleton was neither concerned or bothered in the slightest. He simply stood on the bridge, a strong, hot tea in his hand and a cigarette between his fingers.

  "How could he have got away, sir?" said the junior rating.

  "It's what he's trained to do, sailor."

  "You don't seem concerned, sir."

  "I don't think I am, to be honest. I'm thinking about my retirement."

  In the distance, Jack Middleton could make out the Gosport Ferry. On the top of the ferry Jack could easily see the uniform of a Royal Marine with what looked like a seven-year-old girl next to them. Jack then turned to the sailor and said, "Yes, I think I'm going to retire."

  Chapter Ninety-two

  After disembarking at Gosport Terminal, Rob and Amelia held hands as they walked down the high street. Rob knew this area well, as he had done some diver training here with the Royal Navy during selection, not much, but enough to get his bearings. It wasn't long before they both reached South Cross Street Police Station. Rob looked down at the little girl. The mission was done and he hated having to leave her. He knelt down and held the little girl. "If you go in here and tell the policeman who you are it won't be long before you see your mummy, I promise."

  "Are you going to come and see me again?"

  Rob felt his heart in his mouth, however, he still could not cry. It was almost as if that was behind him now. "Maybe one day our paths will cross again, but in the meantime, tell your mummy I said hi and that our paths will cross again soon."

  Rob then held open the door for the little girl, for what he felt would be the last time. As the door began to close, Rob was about to walk off when Amelia shouted, "Wait!" Rob stopped in his tracks as the little girl ran towards him. In her hands she pulled out her teddy bear. "Will you look after Bo Bo for me?"

  Rob felt a frog in his throat. "I promise," replied Rob.

  The little girl then headed back into the police station. The sergeant behind the desk wasted no time in looking for Rob Foster. The little girl had not even been in the station for fifteen minutes when every officer in the area was looking for him. They could not find him. He had disappeared.

  Part Four

  Hull

  Chapter Ninety-three

  Callum Squire was on his fourth sambuca shot in the ex-serviceman's club in Hessle. As he was banned from the Admiral pub, which in turn meant he was banned from everywhere except from the Ex's. The amphetamine that he had took earlier that night was starting to wear thin, however, he still had two wraps in his coat pocket and was hoping to persuade Rachel to come back to his like he had done the week before.

  The fact was, Rachel did not know what she was taking and just as she had fallen asleep on Callum's sofa, she woke to find the animal on top of her. She wanted nothing to do with Callum. As Callum approached her, Rachel made for the door. Rachel stepped into the night, with Callum in pursuit. As she crossed the road, Callum followed, calling after his prey. In the spur of the moment, Rachel turned to Callum and said, "Not tonight, Cal, time of the month I'm afraid, maybe next week!" As Rachel walked off, Callum was going to try his luck with other victims in the club. Just as a tall Asian guy approached him from behind. In a polite Indian accent, the Asian guy addressed Callum. "Excuse me, is it Callum? Can I have a word?" he said.

  Callum replied, "Yeah, what do you want, Paki?"

  Within a second, the Asian guy pulled a cloth out of his pocket and covered it over Callum's face. The rohypnol only took a matter of seconds before Callum was incapacitated. No one saw as the Asian guy bundled Callum in to the back of the Ford Transit van. Callum would be out for some time yet. The Transit then drove off into the night.

  Callum did not know where he was when he woke up. It seemed to be some sort of metal container or box. He could hear a person behind the curtain, and there was a big light at the foot of what appeared to be some sort of bed that he was strapped to.

  "What the fuck's going on?" shouted Callum.

  With that, the curtain drew back and Callum could make out a figure wearing surgical clothes. Callum began to feel afraid, especially as he could not move.

  "You're awake," proclaimed the dark-skinned figure in doctor's overalls. "That's good!"

  On a tray at the foot of the bed appeared to be several surgical implements. Callum turned to his tormentor. "Look, mate, what the fuck's going on? I think you've got the wrong guy, mate. And besides, I'm well connected, do you know what I mean?"

  The Asian guy said nothing as Callum continued to squirm sentences together. Then Callum asked, "Look, mate, who are you?"

  The guy pulled down his mask revealing his full face and he looked at Callum in the eye. "I'm a friend of Rob Foster, my name's Jimmy Crisp, however, some people call me The Surgeon."

  On hearing Rob's name, Callum began to look frightened and began to wet himself. The Surgeon noticed Callum leak all over the floor. Then he continued, "I'm going to remove your spleen, however, I have not done it before so you'll have to bear with me. However, I'm sure I can successfully remove it without affecting your intestines. After that, if I have time, I'm going to do some work on your pre-frontal cortex it's a part of your brain you won't be needing."

  Nobody could hear Callum's screams from within the container that was dumped in a farmer's field two miles from the nearest living soul. The surgical drip that the surgeon had placed in Callum's arm meant that Callum felt every slice of the surgeon's knife without passing out. Callum underwent the most horrific torture for the next five hours. The end result was that The Surgeon was pleased with his work.

  Chapter Ninety-four

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  Westbourne Cemetary in Hull was quiet. It was nine a.m. and it was raining. Rob looked wearily at Simon Grant's grave. Rob did not know why he came, but felt he had to. Reading the headstone, it gave Simon Grant's date of birth, the epitaph underneath read: 'Taken too soon, missed forever.' The headstone was obviously new. It could have not been put there more than a couple of days ago.

  Rob just closed his eyes and tried to pray. The scars from that night almost a year ago were still vivid. Rob would always be a marked man by the Grant family, however there was nothing Rob could to do to rectify anything that had happened. Rob began to question himself again. Had he not killed Simon Grant, would Amelia be dead? It was a question that went on forever.

  Rob pulled out a mobile phone from his pocket and rang his solicitor Laura Allison. "Laura, it's Rob Foster. Can you talk or are you busy?"

  "I can talk, Rob, but you need to hand yourself in."

  "Can you come and get me?"

  "What do you think, Rob."

  "Yeah, I know, we're all Hannibal Lecters."
<
br />   "It's not that, Rob, I can meet you at the police station, but I can't pick you up. It may be misconstrued and I could get disbarred for aiding and abetting. Where are you anyway?"

  "I'm in Hull."

  "Rob, the best advice I can give you is to hand yourself in straight away."

  "I'm going to, Laura, believe me. Will you still represent me?"

  "Of course, I will, but I can't help you until you hand yourself in. If you want, I can ring the police and they can come and get you."

  Rob looked down at the grave, all the time still on the phone to his lawyer. "Okay, I'm gonna hand myself in, I'm gonna go for a pint first."

  Rob hung up the phone, took one last look at Simon Grant's grave before he said the words, "Sorry, mate."

  Then he walked away.

  Chapter Ninety-five

  Harry was reading the newspaper at about eleven a.m. in the Admiral. The headline read 'SAS Elite rescues British Child'. The doors had just opened, and Rob walked in. Harry held up the paper and said, "This owt to do with you?"

  Rob smiled and shrugged. Harry continued, "Take it you want a pint."

  "Like you wouldn't believe, mate, feels like my throat's been cut."

  As if on cue, Harry began to pour Rob a Guinness, then Harry said, "I can't help you any more, Rob. You're gonna have to go round the back, also, I've not seen you."

  "I know, mate, I just wanted to have a couple of pints, I don't think I'm gonna have the chance to have another one for a while. I'm gonna ring the hospital from here, they'll come and pick me up."

  "Yeah, okay, Rob, but remember: I've not seen you."

  Rob held the pint to his mouth and it felt refreshing, almost touching every nerve in his tongue. He almost downed half the glass before leaving the bar and making his way towards the back room. There were the usual bar flies in the pub, the seasoned alcoholics whom Harry could set his clocks by. Also, there were Joss and Gary, both long haired rockers, in early to get drunk and play pool.