by Bill Kitson
‘What if we can’t find him? As I know only too well, he’s always been very good at survival, and escaping capture.’
Smith’s boss laughed. ‘I take it you’re referring to the time you left him for dead? After you flew off in the rescue helicopter, telling the crew you were the only member of the unit still alive. You were lucky I intervened. Otherwise you’d have been court-martialled for that. Even if they didn’t find out what else you did on that mission.’
‘I was acting on orders,’ Smith protested. ‘Your orders, let me remind you.’
‘I can’t remember giving you a written order to shoot one of your unit members in the back. But maybe we’re getting a bit paranoid. For one thing, we’re only speculating that he’s the one who has the girl. If he had her, I’d have thought he’d have contacted North by now. Made some sort of demand. And even if he has got her, and the files, I doubt if he has the ability to decode them. And, even if he does both, what’s he going to do about it?’
‘I’ll check him out anyway, when I’ve had a look at the animal rights people. Is there anything else?’
‘Just find the girl.’
‘You understand what you’ve to do?’
‘I run as fast as I can at you. When I reach you, I put one foot into your hand and push off as hard as I can with the other leg.’
‘Got it.’
‘But it’s pitch black. How will I see your hands?’
He fumbled in the backpack and produced a pair of gloves. They glowed luminously in the dark. ‘I see, very clever. But how will you get over the fence? I don’t fancy being penned up inside an army compound when they open up tomorrow morning.’
‘Leave that to me. Just be sure and move well to one side after you land.’
‘Why can’t you pick the lock on the gates or something?’
‘They’re on an alarm system. They can only be opened with the right keys.’
She turned and walked reluctantly away from him. She counted thirty paces, as he’d instructed, before she turned. In the darkness she could just make out the silhouette of the ten foot high fence, a slightly darker shape in front of it. Fortunately the ground seemed fairly level. It would be an inglorious end to the adventure if she turned an ankle on the run up. She got into a sprinter’s stance and waited a moment, taking deep breaths. ‘Ready,’ she called as softly as she could. She peered into the gloom. She couldn’t see the gloves.
‘Ready,’ she heard, and at the same time the luminous glow came into view. He must have had his hands in his pockets. She pushed off and accelerated forward, gaining speed with every stride. Her eyes were fixed on that bright spot of light that was getting nearer and nearer and—
‘Now!’ She heard him shout.
She lifted her left foot high, felt it gripped, and pushed hard with her right leg. She felt him thrust her left leg up and then she was soaring, her momentum carrying her forward. In a split second, her vault had carried her over the fence with its razor wire topping. She put her feet together as he’d taught her, spread her arms to fully outstretched and waited for the impact. She felt an initial shock as she touched down, bent her knees and went down into a crouch. As her palms touched the wet grass she pushed hard down on the turf.
‘I’m over,’ she called as she straightened up.
‘Well done. Just like a gymnast. Watch out, I’m throwing the bag over now.’
She felt, rather than saw the bag looming against the night sky. It dropped a few paces to her left. She located it and slipped the straps over her shoulders. ‘I’ve got it.’
‘Good, stay right where you are. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.’
Was he always this confident, she wondered? Or, was it the effects of the drug? In that case, was his confidence justified? She waited. Time dragged. A couple of minutes, he’d said. Surely by now it must have been five minutes, maybe longer? She peered into the darkness and spotted a luminous patch on the ground a couple of feet or so to the far side of the fence. Had he taken his gloves off and left them on the ground? And where was he? Why was he taking so long? ‘Steve,’ she called out, as loudly as she dared.
There was no reply, but in the next second, even as her call was dying into silence, she heard the sound of something heavy landing close to her. ‘Steve,’ she whispered again and held her breath.
‘I’m here.’
She let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. ‘But how? How did you get over the fence?’
She could make out his outline now, her night vision improving all the time. He was crouching close to the wire, his arms moving backwards and forwards. He was pulling at something. But what? Then she saw it. She began to laugh. It was a long thin pole. So that was how he’d cleared the fence – he’d pole vaulted it. And the luminous spot she’d seen on the grass? The one he was now retrieving via the string he’d attached to it? It was a take-off cup, painted to glow in the dark. So simple, so effective.
He laid the pole down alongside the cup. ‘Come on, we’ve a fair hike ahead. The building we want is right at the back of the compound, towards the far side. Unfortunately this is the only level bit of ground, so we’ve had to come in about as far away from our target as possible.’
He took her hand and they ran in silence past row upon row of dark, shuttered buildings. After a few minutes he steered her towards a gap. ‘Through there,’ he gestured with his free hand.
She reckoned they’d run for almost ten minutes before he slowed. ‘Next on the right.’
They came to a halt and stood for a few moments, gathering breath.
‘The way we got in was ingenious,’ she said, ‘but can I ask you one thing? Why not just cut a hole in the fence?’
‘I would have done,’ he told her, ‘but the whole idea is that nobody should know we’ve been inside.’ The patience in his voice was like a schoolmaster with a particularly dense pupil, or a sergeant with a raw recruit.
‘Of course. Stupid question. Forget I asked.’
She couldn’t see his grin in the darkness, but somehow knew he was laughing at her. ‘Turn round.’
She swivelled so her back was to him. His fingers fumbled for the zips on the rucksack. She heard the soft grating sound as he opened it. ‘Hand,’ he told her.
She stretched her hand behind her, palm up, and felt the coldness of steel against it. Her fingers closed around it. She was surprised how heavy it felt. ‘Hand,’ he said again. She put her other hand back and clutched at another steel object. She hefted the torch in her left hand, the fingers of her right hand curling round the butt of the pistol he’d handed her. ‘You’re on guard duty. It’s highly unlikely anything will happen, but if it all goes pear-shaped, shoot anybody who comes near. Got it?’
‘No problem.’ Did she really feel that confident?
‘Aim at their feet. With the recoil you’ll probably blow their head off. Now, shine the torch on that door.’
She looked at the beam, marvelling at how steady it was. Wondered briefly if her nerves were really that strong; or if it was the effect of the drugs. Before she could dwell on it, she heard a click and saw the door open. ‘Pass the bag and the torch.’ She did as he ordered. ‘OK, you’re on your own for a while. Ten minutes should be long enough, unless I have problems inside. The stuff we want is locked in a strong room. I’ll need to pick that lock as well.’
She watched him slip through the door, saw it close. Was there no end to his skills, or his ingenuity?
Never had ten minutes passed so slowly. Or had it been far longer? Suddenly, the deep silence of the night was broken by the hooting of an owl. Her nerves, already stretched, were almost at breaking point when she heard the faintest whisper of sound behind her. She looked round, to see the door opening. She let out a deep breath, her heart rate slowing. ‘Got it?’ she asked.
‘No problem.’
They made their way back to the fence and cleared it with no more problem than on the way in. He collected the vaulting pole and cup, unscrewed th
e sections of the pole and stored everything in one of the motorhome’s compartments. A few minutes later they began their return journey. From the passenger seat Jessica could see the clock on the dashboard display. She was surprised to see the whole operation had taken less than an hour.
Several miles down the road, Jessica opened the rucksack at her feet and took out one of the blocks. It looked identical to the marzipan he’d substituted it with. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘They call it C4. Plastic explosive. Very powerful, very safe.’
‘Is there enough?’
He laughed. ‘Those five blocks you’re nursing would be enough to blow up half of Helmsdale. They’ll certainly be enough to destroy the laboratory at Helm Pharm.’
‘When are we going to do it?’
‘Next Saturday night.’
‘And these?’ She held up a handful of disc-shaped objects.
‘They were a bonus. You’ll see.’
It was three hours later when he pulled the van off the road. He thought she was asleep. She hadn’t spoken for the last half hour, and whenever he’d glanced across the cab she’d been sitting, head resting on the window as she was now. ‘Jessica,’ he said softly.
She straightened. As she sat up he looked across and down. She was holding the pistol he’d given her. The muzzle was pointing directly at his chest. ‘Now, I want the truth from you, Steve.’ Her voice was cold, demanding. ‘I know my mother and brother are dead. I want you to tell me exactly what happened and why. If not, I’ll shoot you here and now.’
He believed her. Even without the aggression the drugs gave her, he thought she was capable of it. She’d certainly got the guts for such an act. He knew she’d shoot him as soon as look at him because that was one of the effects of the medication: it removed all inhibitions, all remorse, any sense of guilt.
So he told her. It took a long time. By the time he finished, it was almost dawn. They were still seated in the cab. She looked across at him. The story was incredible, yet she believed it. Every word of it. As he recognized her acceptance of what she’d heard, he reached across and took the gun from her. He pointed it at her. She saw his finger tighten on the trigger and closed her eyes. This couldn’t be it, surely? He wasn’t going to kill her now? Not after what she’d just learned? And what they had to do? She heard a loud click and opened her eyes.
‘You bastard!’ She swung her fist and connected with his right eye.
‘Ouch!’
‘You evil swine. You left me alone out there with an empty gun.’
‘You weren’t in any danger. Nobody was going to interrupt us. They don’t even have security patrols any more. That’s how severe the cutbacks have been. Bugger all security, but that doesn’t matter if they can save a few bob.’
‘I didn’t know that. As far as I knew we could have been interrupted at any time. Standing there like an idiot with an empty gun. I don’t see what use I was. For all the good it did, me being there, I might as well have stayed in the van. You could have done it all on your own.’
‘I realize that, but you’re missing the point. Tonight was a training exercise. Next Saturday’s operation will be the real thing. That will be the main event.’
‘And I suppose you’ll want me to stand lookout again. Well I hope you remember to load the gun. Or, do you want me to walk up behind anybody who gets in our way and shout, “Bang”, loudly?’
He grinned. ‘No, next week will be completely different. Next week you’ll be the star of the show.’
chapter twelve
The training had been a different experience for Jessica that morning. For one thing she still felt exhilarated by the night’s adventure. But the main reason was her knowledge of what had actually happened, rather than vague hints and suggestions. Ever since she’d been abducted, Jessica had been in fear of her life. That fear still existed, but she knew the threat came from a different source. She recalled the confession she’d got from him.
‘After I found out about Melanie and the kids, and after I had to go through the rigmarole of identifying the bodies, filling forms in, arranging the funerals, I got so depressed. I don’t think it helped that I was coming off the drugs at the time. So I sat there, in that ghastly house of death, drank a whole bottle of scotch and took a full cocktail of the tablets. And, you know what? At the end, I was stone cold sober. That was when I started planning. At the time, all I knew about was the laboratory. I’d seen the name on some paperwork sent with one of the consignments. It would have been meaningless to anyone else, but with me being from Helmsdale, I recognized it straight away. So that became my target. And I thought, if I could find out something about the people behind the drugs programme, I’d take my revenge on them.’
He saw Jessica was about to protest and held up his hand. ‘I know it was crazy, but like I said, I wasn’t thinking straight. I read about the fire, and your brother’s death, but until I studied the files from the laboratory I didn’t make the connection.’
Jessica tried to interrupt again but he shook his head. ‘Let me finish. For a while I thought your father was dead as well. So I reckoned you must be in danger. I knew whoever was responsible for the murders must be after you, so I thought if I got to you first I might be able to protect you. After I got you away from that safe house I hung around. That was when I saw your father. I recognized him from his photo in one of the files. That really threw me. So I started to read the files in more detail. What I saw in them horrified me. I couldn’t believe most of it.’
Jessica look confused. ‘Were you still on the drugs?’
‘No, by then I’d got them out of my system.’
‘Then, why did you tell me you killed my mother and Adam?’
‘Because I reckon what is in those files is so damaging, the people responsible knew they’d have to get rid of anyone who could point the finger at what was going on. I said I murdered them. Well, I did, or as good as. When I took the files from the laboratory, I signed their death warrants. The moment the files went missing, they knew whoever had them would work out what was going on. So you, your father and your family became targets. It’s a simple military strategy – destroy the lines of intelligence communication of the enemy and you’re halfway to winning the battle.’
‘But you still don’t know who’s behind it.’
‘No, I reckon the only way to find that out is via those encrypted disks. And so far I’ve had no success cracking them. I will though, sooner or later. All I’ve to do is learn a bit more about computer software.’
Jessica smiled enigmatically. ‘How do you know the information you’re after is on those disks?’
‘It has to be. I can’t think of any other reason for hiding the information so well, can you?’
‘It might not be what you’re after. It could be the design of a new type of gun, or a tank.’
‘Not in a chemical laboratory. Look at it this way. There’s a hell of a lot of confidential stuff in the open files. The encrypted disks must contain far more secret information.’
He paused, and was silent so long, Jessica asked, ‘What is it? What have you thought of?’
‘Why were they there? I mean, why were they at Helm Pharm?’
‘Sorry, you’ve lost me.’
‘The open files and the personnel files contained all the information about the people connected with the laboratory as well as the project itself. So, why store any other information there? It doesn’t make sense. Nor will it, unless I can decipher the contents.’
‘This case is bloody frustrating,’ Nash grumbled to Superintendent Edwards. ‘Every time I try to get some information, I’m being blocked. The worst part is I don’t know what’s superfluous and what might be relevant. That means I can’t follow a specific line of inquiry.’
‘Do you think Adam North’s murder might be drugs related?’
‘One way or the other, yes.’
Ruth frowned. ‘What do you mean by “one way or the other”?’
&nbs
p; ‘I can’t understand why the military wants to keep Dr North incommunicado, or prevent us talking to anyone at Helm Pharm. That makes me wonder what Helm Pharm is doing that’s so important.’ He saw Edwards’s frown and continued. ‘Can you think of a valid reason for a drug manufacturer to receive such a high level of protection and security from the army?’
‘I take your point, but how does that tie in with Adam North, and where does it leave us?’
‘It could, if he was killed, not because of his addiction, but by someone affected by the drugs, or because he found out something he shouldn’t. As to where it leaves us, I’m afraid the answer to that is, groping in the dark.’
Ruth grinned. ‘Groping in the dark can be fun,’ she murmured, ‘but not in the middle of a murder inquiry. Just be patient, Mike, and keep the file open. Something will break, sooner or later. With your cases, something always does.’
The first thing Smith noticed was the closed curtains. It was early afternoon, the sun was out, why keep the house in darkness? He got out of his car and started up the path to the front door. The short drive was empty; it looked as if no one was home. Despite this, Smith leaned on the bell. It was one of those that played a melody. As he waited, his free hand hovered close to his jacket pocket. Getting no response to his doorbell concerto, Smith hammered on the wooden surround. The timpani yielded no better result. He tried the back door. Nothing. He attempted to peer past the blinds, without success.
He looked round, the street was empty. He knocked on the doors of the two neighbouring houses, but with no response. As he turned from the second, he noticed a car in the drive of the house opposite. He walked slowly across the road, his eyes scanning the street all the way.
This time he did get a positive response. By then he was impatient. He hammered loudly on the door, keeping the barrage going for several minutes. The woman who answered was holding an infant in her arms. The child was wailing, noisily.
‘Who are you? What do you want? It’s taken me over an hour to get this one to sleep. And ten minutes later you come hammering on the door and wake her up.’