The Shadow's Code

by Miles Goodson

  The docks were the same old and decrepit arrangement as the last time Lindon had seen them. White paint had cracked all along the painted wooden walkways. The smell of sea air and fish was heavy in the air even at this early hour. There was little sound, the small waves crashed on the shore. Lindon’s boat was just as he had left it. Paint peeling on the sides and every part of it was worn down and beaten up, but it was seaworthy. Lindon loaded up the boat with supplies from the Range Rover as the fresh sea air gave him a second wind that he wanted to take advantage of.

  After parking the car on a side street five minutes drive from the docks Lindon walked to the boat. He wore a thick leather jacket and the same baseball cap he had driven in. He walked quickly with his head down. Lindon’s dark tan leather boots knocked and clicked as he walked down the cobbled paths back to the boat. It was now 6.30am and the darkness of night was beginning to lose its grip and on the horizon the first signs of light were beginning to emerge. The engine fired first time with little trouble, gently drumming away. At just before 7am Lindon slowly crept out of the dock. He said a short prayer as he slipped away toward the North Sea. His GPS pinged and a small LED flashed as he guided himself west.

  The sun rose brilliantly above the open ocean. The open sea was a challenge, but Lindon was more concerned about staying off other boats’ radars. His fishing vessel seemed innocuous enough as it powered through the waves but Lindon couldn’t risk a curious coast guard or fisherman approaching him. He adjusted course slightly to avoid the busy shipping lanes ahead. The GPS he had purchased was by far the most sophisticated part of the boat and without it Lindon may have drifted hundreds of miles off course without knowing. Stage two of the getaway plan was now steaming ahead. He would have to navigate around Norway but wanted to use the landmass as his first waypoint. The beauty of the sun rising over the edge of the sea couldn’t be missed. Like a beam of light rising over a waterfall at the end of the world. The sea reflected the light in every direction.

  Lindon began to feel like a free man. No longer looking over his shoulder. He played music on the small stereo and stared ahead. With a wry smile he said goodbye to the life he had been living. That was his last ever job, he was turning a page and starting a new chapter. His tiredness was now being combatted by a supply of caffeine and energy drinks. Lindon hoped he would see land again before night but the short winter days would mean he would have to sail perfectly on course to make it before sunset. Lindon tapped his foot to soul music and removed his grubby shirt. This was a new beginning, he thought.

  “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  Roger’s furrowed brow had become a permanent crease on his skin whilst his eyes remained narrow with the lack of sleep.

  James replied with a snap in his voice. “He wasn’t one of the men arrested and we can’t see him leaving the building on any of the security cameras.” James had grown tired of answering Roger’s stupid questions and his calm cool tone was wearing thin. James and Bill threw on their coats.

  “Let’s go. We need to see the place,” Bill said, heading for the door.

  “Let me grab my jacket,” Roger said.

  “NO,” Bill commanded. James took a step towards Roger, his voice failed to hide his exhaustion.

  “This is out of your remit, Roger, Bill and I will let you know if we find anything.” Bill looked towards Warren who was sat at a desk trying not to get involved in the impending argument.

  “Warren, I need you to go through every clip, every angle. Anything that looks even slightly out of place needs to be ready for my review when we arrive back,” Bill said, his tactical mind going into overdrive. The dumpy, slow and out of touch Two Star General had begun to sweep away the rust that had developed over years behind a desk. He was back in the action and loving every minute of it.

  Roger remained sat in the corner, holding his phone. He sat silently as Bill and James walked out. Warren was not looking forward to the company in Room Foxtrot.

  Bill and James reached the end of the corridor and heard someone shout at them; it was ‘big Terry’, the SAS guard who had embarrassed them all on arrival.

  “Oi! Excuse me gents. Simon wants a word.” Simon was sitting behind his office desk. His left hand was holding his thin-rimmed set of glasses. His right forefinger and thumb rubbed the glass clean with a small cloth.

  “Gentlemen, I know you’re in a rush so I shall be brief,” he said. Bill and James remained standing by the frosted glass office door. “I have spoken to my superior and after deliberation with his counterpart in the U.S they have decided nothing will be gained by you remaining here. I have arranged for Room Foxtrot to be cleared in three hours. Your analyst and the other fellow may remain there until then. All your data will of course be secured and handed over.” Simon spoke with a gentle tone. Bill and James had never been thrown out so graciously in their lives.

  “So you want us out?” James asked. Simon stood whilst putting his glasses on and he extended his hand toward James.

  “Yes, and I wish you all the best,” he said as he shook hands with both men and then shouted for Terry.

  Bill and James sat together quietly in the back of a Jaguar on the way to the crime scene.

  “Very polite way of telling you to fuck off,” James whispered to Bill, who nodded. Once they arrived at the scene and walked up the stairs they were confronted with a battle scene.

  The first thing both men noticed was Seth lying dead on the floor. His body was only half covered by a white sheet as a team was preparing to move him. Several chalk circles had been drawn on the floor near his body. Witnessing the sheer scale of the gunfight showed how determined Kioshi had been. Neither of them managed a single step without kicking the shell casing of a bullet. There were holes all over the office. The roof was just as bad with drips of blood visible on the dirty roof floor. After ten minutes Bill and James were walked over to the building that the unidentified shooter had been in. A room had caught the attention of the investigators at the scene as the window had been shattered. It was clear the damage to the window had been caused by a shot fired from inside the room. Bill and James stared at the window.

  “Not so clever,” Bill said under his breath.

  “Where was he aiming?” James asked a man with white gloves on who was combing through the room.

  “Not for the diplomats,” he said as he retried a laser from his pocket. He showed the angle he believed the shooter had fired at from further back in the room. It was straight towards the office Lindon had been in.

  “You’re sure?” James asked.

  The man nodded. “No question.”

  If there was any doubt left in Bill’s and James’s minds as to the identity of the gunman it vanished at that moment, it must be Kioshi. James and Roger muttered to each about details as they walked to the roof. Two women wearing full overalls and white gloves were photographing every inch of the scene.

  “Excuse me, would it be possible to take a few shell casings?” James asked.

  “Two or three, but I need to see which ones you take,” was the answer from one of the women as she crouched with her camera.

  James nodded and assessed several shells before making his selection. Bill was an expert on guns and there were few weapons he hadn’t heard of. He had already got a few strong guesses for the weapon Kioshi had used. Bill stepped over a ledge to look at the building Lindon had been in. He could just about make out some of the damage on the roof. The office windows were smashed and from this distance Bill could only just see someone in the office.

  “James, come over here,” Bill called out. James stepped over the ledge and looked ahead. Bill pointed, “How well can you make out the guys in the office?” James’s eyes were very good but he struggled to see anyone. “But Kioshi would have had a scope.”

  “Yes he would but it’s daylight and we’re struggling to see anyone. You’ve shot with a scope before, right?” Bill asked. James nodded. “So you still need a reference point. When you move yo
u need to see movement with the naked eye before you zone in with the scope.” James nodded again, although he becoming confused as to what Bill was driving at.

  “To know exactly where to be looking and to know the layout of the building. That takes planning. How could he have known Lindon was going to be there and how would he have got so much detailed information?” Bill said, staring at the office. He could just about see the outline of someone moving. James stared at the roof. Kioshi had been very accurate with his shots considering he was firing in the dark. Both men had more questions than answers.

  “A mole?” James said as a strong gust of wind rocked both of them backwards.

  Bill looked at James and frowned. “But who?” he whispered.

  James looked back at the office. Could the dead man have more of a story than it first appeared? He needed to delve into his life of Seth McGregor.

  “Bill, I’m gonna run across to the other building. I need to take a picture,” James said as he ran off before Bill could answer him.

  Journalists were camped away from the scene of the devastation. Large cameras were propped up in front of reporters who had spent the last twenty minutes adding make-up and styling their hair. They were so far away that they barely had an angle that showed the building. Most of them stood near the police cordon with a shot of heavily armed police officers in the background. A few journalists had been there shortly after the flurry of police vehicles arrived. Some were reporting stories of an unconfirmed terror attack that added to the media frenzy. The sensationalist news stories had begun long before Bill and James had arrived. As they were driven away from the scene the MI5 agent who was driving turned up the radio.

  “Seems the media have got about every story going on this, terrorists, assassins, London under attack, unconfirmed reports of security personnel dead, an MI5 operation gone bad, the whole works,” he said with a smile. The latest report claimed the attack had happened at a meeting for the renewal of nuclear weapon contracts. Bill and James sat in silence and listened to the reports, both of them with the same question circling in their heads.

  Kioshi must have been given a tip off, but by whom?

  “Hi Bill, we’ve been cleared out of the building. One of the big guys said we had to leave. We’re heading for a military base where there is a plane waiting for us,” Warren said down a crackly phone line.

  “OK, did you get everything?” Bill asked.

  “Two men packed everything for us. I have all my data on a memory stick. Is all this normal, it feels like we’re being thrown out?” Warren asked. His nerves had returned but Roger had been little help in calming him.

  “Yes, Warren, don’t worry. We have everything we need. It was time for us to go home, we will meet you at the airfield,” Bill said reassuringly and hung up.

  “Everything OK?” James asked as they crawled through London traffic.

  “They’ve cleared Roger and Warren out of the office and put them in a car, nothing unexpected.” James looked out of the window at the Londoners going about their daily business. For a city that was reportedly under attack everyone was remarkably calm. Workers were much too busy worrying about possible delays to the London underground to concern themselves with being under siege.

  “Warren seems like a very nervous guy,” James said, waiting to see what reply he would get.

  Bill smiled. “Best in his class, best at college, best cyber analyst test results we’ve had yet. Yes, he’s not the hard-edged choice that would have been needed in years gone by, but his computer skills are a real asset. So I don’t care if he would be hiding behind his desk in a war, he’s good at what he does,” Bill said, then crossed his legs. James didn’t reply.

  Warren had mixed feelings as the wheels of the plane touched down on American soil. He was happy to be home and away from the carnage in London but he knew he was going back to being locked in a room, albeit a plush room in the White House. All he wanted was his life back to being a nobody who goes to work and comes home to a microwave dinner. Warren’s eyes were sunken as he stared out at the runway. It looked cold and frigid outside. Warren’s dark skin had begun to crack in the freezing conditions.

  “Is Warren going with you?” Bill asked Roger.

  “Yeah” he answered.

  Roger had spoken very little throughout the plane journey and his responses were limited to a yes or no. Seth McGregor’s life had been broken down with nothing indicating he was the man that had tipped off Kioshi.

  James was glued to his phone, dealing with the thorny issue of paying Dino Logging Brothers for the job. Lindon hadn’t been captured so he didn’t see why they should receive full payment. However Dino had lost a man and all Dino Logging Brothers contracts were written with the explicit caveat that if they lose one of their men in service the job was to be paid in full no matter the outcome. James knew this and after five minutes arguing his point with his own accounts department he begrudgingly agreed to full payment. James didn’t hide his annoyance; it was a large portion of his budget wasted.

  Kirt burst into Jim’s office. “They’ve paid everything for the job!” he yelled.

  Jim sat with his arms folded on his desk. His head was bowed down, resting on his arms. “Yeah,” was the muffled response. Jim had passed the point of pretending to care.

  “I’ve told Casper and all the bonuses are guaranteed,” Kirt said, only just noticing Jim’s low mood. “Casper has also said he’s going to make sure Seth’s wife gets everything for a ‘death in service’ plus a one off payment,” Kirt said in positive tone, hopeful it would cheer Jim up.

  “He had a kid, you know,” Jim mumbled.

  “Who, Seth?”

  “Yeah, a four year old. We shouldn’t have taken this job.” Jim had managed to raise his head and was now supporting it on his palms; a tear had remained on his cheek.

  “Well this is the life he chose, Jim. You can’t blame yourself for that,” Kirt said, trying to sound sincere but failing miserably. Jim was too angry and sad to answer. His headache returned and his face turned red. Kirt didn’t know what to say next, blurted out “I’ll be in my office if you need me” and headed for the door.

  Casper was the next visitor to Jim’s office. Jim was now lying on the couch staring at the ceiling. For ten minutes Casper tried to convince Jim he shouldn’t take things so personally and that they would take care of the widow. Jim told Casper he wouldn’t be in the office for a while. He was taking some time out and he didn’t know if he would return. This may have been one job too many. Casper agreed he should take some time out, as long as he wanted, his job was safe when he decided to return.

  Jim corrected Casper “If, not when.”

  Casper nodded and patted Jim on the shoulder. “You’ve got my number, call me anytime, I’m serious. Seth was one of your guys, you, are one of my guys,” Casper said, then walked out of Jim’s office. Jim closed his eyes and pushed his head back into the leather.

  Chapter 30

  Lindon’s voyage continued and so far it had been uneventful. The waves had become more of a challenge in the afternoon. It was now dark and Lindon could not make out any visual landmarks so he slowed and followed the GPS coordinates.

  Hours of darkness passed and Lindon had begun to worry. If he remained out in the darkness for too long he may stray into waters that were regularly patrolled. Then directly ahead Lindon spotted light on the horizon. He adjusted course and aimed straight for the brightness. He remained cautious. The lights were from a small fishing village on Norway’s coast. Lindon fell back into his seat and smiled from ear to ear then rubbed his eyes vigorously. He had made it.

  The village was small and no one could be seen on any of the boats at the small marina. Lindon decided to moor up a mile north of the village on a small wooden walkway that was deserted. He quickly jumped from his boat. Standing on a surface that didn’t sway from side to side was strange after spending so many hours at sea. Lindon grabbed his camping equipment and walked into a wooded are
a nearby. He lay down, wrapped himself in thermals and a blanket and slipped into the sleeping bag.

  Lindon woke up at 5am feeling recharged. He looked through the trees at his boat. The area was still deserted. Lindon decided to leave immediately and head for the small village. The local fishermen should be up and checking over their boats. He reached the small marina and met two men in blue overalls who were smoking. He explained to the men that he was transporting the boat for a friend but they didn’t appear to care what he was doing; he purchased some fuel from one of them whilst the other gave tips about the currents and advised him of the latest weather report. Lindon was on his way in fifteen minutes.

  The first couple of hours at sea were in total darkness but as the morning sun started to appear Lindon got a glimpse of where he was. The land was green and forest backed onto the rocks and sandy areas of the coast. Lindon had to go further away from the shoreline as he passed Grimstad. He headed directly east so he would reach the southwestern tip of Sweden. The sea was calm and the fresh sea air carried the smell of salt and even some of the dewy forest scent from the shoreline. The radio buzzed and crackled with other ships talking to each other. The next waypoint for Lindon would be Gothenburg. He planned to dock after he passed the city and sleep for a few hours.

  As the waves passed he began to think of Stephanie. She was a clam and pragmatic type, but she did have a sharper side to her. If you annoyed her she would let you know immediately. Lindon held out hope she would speak to him again but only time would tell. His mind drifted from Stephanie back to himself. He had picked up a few cuts and bruises in the gunfight that were healing but his right arm had become swollen and sore. The adrenaline of the night had dulled the pain but the longer he had spent on the boat the more relaxed he had become and in turn the more pain he felt from his arm. Lindon took some pills to numb the pain.