Silent Warpath (Sean Quinlan Book 1)

by Dominic Conlon

  ‘I’m sorry too Robert,’ replied the PM. ‘There will be a huge enquiry surrounding the Astute. If the press were to get even a whiff of an American rogue submarine, they would have a field day.’

  The President considered the remark. At last he sighed. ‘So what do you want me to do - send them back?’

  ‘Not exactly, Robert. Originally my agents were tasked with finding out who was responsible for ordering the murder of the hit-and-run victim. They’re close to finding out who that person is. It’s possible the same person is behind the sabotage of your secret submarine project. I want you to give my agents all the assistance they need to complete their mission.’

  ‘Seems like we both want the same things Terrance.’

  ‘We do Robert. When I said all assistance, can I take it you will make sure it happens?’

  ‘You can Terrance. We’ve a lot invested in the project and we could do with any help from your guys. God knows how many agencies are involved in hunting this blasted rogue sub, but I’ll make sure we’re all working together.’

  ‘Thanks Robert. Oh by the way, there is one more thing.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied the President cautiously.

  ‘My name is Terry, not Terrance.’

  Sergeant Timothy Evans knocked on the door of the office and went in. Station chief Peter Cheevers indicated the chair opposite. ‘Take a seat, Tim. How’s the interrogation going?’

  The Sergeant chose to stand. ‘He’s close to breaking’ he said brusquely.

  ‘Tim, I’ve just been talking to the Commissioner. We’ve orders to halt the interview and let them go.’

  ‘What do you mean, let them go?’ the Sergeant almost spat.

  ‘The British have been making noises. The British Ambassador phoned me in person. They want their men back.’

  ‘Tough, let them go fish.’

  ‘It’s not as easy as that. It’s gone political – the Brits spoke to the White House. The White House called in the State Department and they’ve been on the phone to the Commissioner.’ Cheever looked at his sergeant. ‘It’s out of my hands, Tim. We have to let them go.’

  ‘You know what I think about that!’

  ‘I know Tim and you don’t have to tell me. But I’m telling you. Suspend the interrogation and let them go.’

  Sergeant Evans remained still.

  ‘However..’, began Cheevers. ‘I haven’t been ordered to stop looking for the third agent.

  The sergeant took the seat opposite his boss.

  ‘When we let these two go, they might lead us to the third man. But you’ll need to be very discreet.’

  ‘Can I pull him in?’

  Cheevers shook his head. ‘No. Just follow them and find out where they hole up. Be very careful.’

  ‘I will chief.’

  ‘How is Lomax? Is he well enough to leave hospital?’

  ‘Apparently he’s OK. A bit roughed up - some kidney damage and a cracked rib. They’ve sorted the kidney with some medicine but the rib will have to take care of itself. He should be able to go under his own steam.’ He stared at the station chief. ‘A pity.’

  ‘I know you were looking forward to interrogating him when you’d finished with the kid.’

  A grim smile appeared on Sergeant Evans’ face. ‘I told the kid that Lomax wouldn’t last the night - just to add a bit of pressure. That’s when he came close to breaking.’

  ‘He’ll know soon enough that Lomax is OK’ observed Cheevers. ‘When you’ve completed the paperwork, put all of it on my desk.’

  The Sergeant turned to go.

  ‘Oh, and Tim?’

  Sergeant Evans looked back.

  ‘Not a word to anyone. Is that clear?’

  The Sergeant nodded and left.

  ‘You don’t look in any fit state to go anywhere’, Sean observed.

  ‘I’ve felt better.’

  Sean helped Lomax swing his legs over the side of the bed. ‘Here’s your clothes. I didn’t have time to get you any others - we’re up against the clock.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’ve just over twenty four hours to find a way of turning that sub back.’

  Lomax grunted, struggling to pull his clothes on. ‘London’s been on the phone. They’ve persuaded the Yanks to co-operate with us.’

  Sean turned and gave Lomax a surprised look.

  ‘Don’t ask me how’, Lomax growled. ‘But we’ve got full agency support, backed by the President, no less.’

  ‘Phew’ said Sean. ‘Shame it didn’t happen earlier.’

  Lomax stood up. ‘How do I look?’

  Sean shook his head. The contrast with Lomax’s normally immaculate figure was stark. ‘To be honest you look like a hobo who’s just crawled out of the hedge.’

  ‘Thanks’ said Lomax sarcastically. ‘We need to find a new safe house and plan the next move.’

  Sean turned to go. ‘Oh, by the way, do you know where DD is?’

  ‘The police are hanging on to him a while longer. Not sure why, but you’ll need to check for ticks when you pick him up.’

  Even in the new spirit of cooperation with the US, Lomax insisted on finding a new safe house without any American agency’s knowledge. It took two hours to locate one and check for tails before they could move in.

  Lomax settled on a dining room chair, arranging documents on the table. ‘London just faxed over a set of plans for Dennis Clarke’s west coast residence.’ He pointed to the various documents. ‘A street map of surrounding buildings, the layout of the grounds, the possible location of guards and dogs. I’ve got an assessment by army specialists about the best method of access, egress and exfiltration. No doubt you’ll have your own ideas about access. But to my mind entry has to be over the seven foot chain fence surrounding the property. The army guys say there are probably sensors embedded in the grounds inside the fence which are not indicated on the plan.’

  ‘Very thorough’ said Sean, picking up the plan of the layout.

  ‘There is something else you should know. This time London is insisting on sending backup.’ Immediately Lomax could see the reaction on Sean’s face. ‘I told them you would object. They only agreed not to send someone new when I said I would cover your back instead.’

  Sean rounded on Lomax. ‘Have you seen what you look like in the mirror? You look ready for the knacker’s yard.’

  ‘Maybe I do, but I have my orders’ responded Lomax, turning slowly with obvious pain.

  ‘No, Lomax. You know I work alone and you’ll just be an extra burden I can do without.’

  Lomax thumped the table once. ‘Sean, you don’t have a choice. Whatever London says, I do and you do. There can be no argument.’

  ‘Listen Lomax’, said Sean heatedly. ‘The only reason I took on this job was because London agreed I would get a lone hand. I can’t work having to look over my back.’

  ‘It’s not going to be like that’ replied Lomax. ‘I’m just going to be there to help with the getaway.’

  ‘No’ said Sean again. ‘I said no and that’s final.’

  Chapter 30

  When Lomax let Natasha in, she found Sean tugging on a dark jersey over his tee-shirt. She looked from Lomax to Sean. ‘Leaving?’

  ‘Give us a few minutes, would you?’ Sean asked Lomax.

  Natasha closed the door. ‘When will I see you again?’

  ‘If all goes well I should be back in a few hours.’

  ‘And if not?’

  ‘I’ll find some way to get in touch. If we’re not back by daylight, phone your contact at the NSA and let him have whatever else you’ve got.’ Sean walked over to her. ‘You know the basics in looking after yourself. Just don’t forget what you’ve learnt.’

  Natasha approached Sean and straightened his jersey. ‘If you have to go, please take care.’

  ‘I always do,’ Sean grinned.

  Natasha pinched his cheek. ‘No, I really mean it.’

  Sean smiled. ‘Look Natasha, I don’t really have time to go into this right now. A
nyway, I think you know how I feel about you.’ He stopped for a second. ‘There is something that has been bothering me though. Did the NSA set you up?’

  Natasha looked puzzled.

  ‘Did they ask you to get closer to Ben and find out what he was doing?’

  Natasha lowered her head. ‘Yes. I felt really uneasy about it.’

  ‘But you did get to know Ben, didn’t you.’

  ‘In the end, I did.’ She looked up. ‘But it wasn’t like you think. He was a warm and honest person.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Nothing – nothing happened. I found out he was clean. Initially they thought Ben might be stealing secrets and sending them on to some other country. He wasn’t involved in anything major at all.’

  ‘He latched on to the security breach at SeaTek. That much we do know.’

  ‘I keep thinking, if he had told me earlier he might still be alive today.’

  ‘What’s done is done, Natasha.’ He took her hand. ‘I’ll try to take care. But you know that nothing is sure in this job. I can’t make any promises.’

  ‘I know’ she said sadly.

  Sean parked in a sheltered spot overhung by trees. A short distance away a telegraph pole passed telephone cables over the fence and through the trees to the house beyond.

  ‘The house is set in two acres of land, surrounded by this green chain link fence’ said Lomax, looking at the layout plan. ‘These trees border the land facing the road. Close by there should be a stone wall about a metre tall. The wall and the trees should provide a decent screen from the property. I’ll put up the hood when you go in, so anyone from the road will think I’ve broken down.’

  ‘Opposition?’

  ‘We’re not sure if the fence is electrified.’ Lomax traced a line on the map. ‘Once over the fence, use the cover of the trees and make for this building. We think this is where the security guards are sited. There will be at least two guards on duty, 24 hours a day.’

  ‘Pressure activated pads?’

  ‘Quite possible. The likeliest place would be in the tree line just inside the fence. I wish we had DD working on this – he would be able to neutralise them before we go in.’

  ‘Before we go in?’ asked Sean.

  ‘Before you go in’ Lomax replied.

  ‘Dogs?’

  ‘Yes, you need to be prepared.’

  ‘I’ll need some flash bangs for the guards. Possibly some tear gas grenades too.’

  ‘Got a stash here’ Lomax gestured towards a rucksack.

  ‘OK, what about the house?’

  ‘London says Clarke lives alone, but he may have guests. Apparently he holds business meetings in a specially built office room.’

  ‘Exit route?’

  ‘Same way as you come in. An alternative is to go over the back fence. That leads out onto open land. You should work your way parallel to the road and I’ll wait for you two miles south of the property.’

  ‘Anything else I need to know?’

  ‘London says “Good Luck”.’

  That was a nice touch from Murdoch, thought Sean - Andrews wouldn’t have bothered. He rummaged around in the back and took a wide webbing belt, a belt of tools and a large bolt cutter. Lomax gave him what looked like a small transistor radio, some crocodile clips and an ear piece.

  ‘Ten minutes’ said Sean. He left the car and kept well back from the road as he covered the hundred metres to the telegraph pole. He checked around cautiously. He could hear nothing except for the sound of birds in the trees and the occasional cricket in the long grass. He fastened the web belt around himself and the pole and began to climb. Every step or so, he had to adjust the belt for support. Within a minute he was near the top and in reach of the cables. He unhooked the transistor-like device and clipped two wires, one to each cable.

  Sean withdrew the ear piece and tuned the device into the characteristics of the cable. A variable pitch note told him when he had the optimum setting. He clipped the device to the pole. From now on it would intercept any telephone calls and return an engaged signal. That should be enough to allay suspicions for a while from outside callers. But the main reason for the tap was to ensure that any burglar alarms that were wired to call the police or a security company would fail. Sean uncoiled a thin rope and tied it to the black box, before letting the other end drop to the ground. One good yank on the bottom of the rope and it would bring the kit down to earth. Sean was back in the car in less than the promised ten minutes.

  He found a black balaclava, then popped a small aerosol in the top pocket. He helped himself to a couple of tear gas grenades and flash-bangs. When he finished he turned to face Lomax. ‘Keep an eye out for me. If I’m not back within thirty minutes, pick up Natasha and clear out of the country as soon as you can.’

  ‘OK.’

  Sean looked at Lomax for a second, taking in the sallow complexion and the dark patches under the man’s eyes. He looked near to death’s door, but at least he could sit this one out.

  Approaching the fence, Sean plucked a long blade of grass and spat onto it, using his fingers to spread the moisture along its length. He rested one end on the metal links of the fence, gradually shortening the blade of grass between his finger and the metal wire. If the fence was electrified, Sean would be able to detect the charge, considerably reduced by the resistance of the grass.

  It wasn’t electrified. He scaled the fence and dropped lightly on the other side, laying still on the ground for several minutes while listening intently. While he listened he looked around. There were no obvious booby traps or trip wires present. But there might be sensors further in and away from the trees. No matter, this was only going to be a quick in and out job. As he rose he heard barking from the dogs, already on their way.

  They came swiftly through the trees. They were not barking now – saving their breath, intent on seizing him and ripping his body apart. When they were about ten feet away, the first dog rushed for him, leaping for his throat. It was a Doberman.

  Sean twisted the cap of the aerosol and pressed the button. The spray covered the dog’s head, entering its eyes, nose, mouth and ears. In a fraction of a second the dog lost control. Sean sidestepped and it collapsed to the ground. The dog heaved, fighting to draw breath. When the second Doberman saw what was happening, it stopped and looked at Sean for several seconds. It began to growl and Sean gave it a squirt. It whimpered and quickly turned tail.

  Sean considered the fallen dog. It would be incapacitated for another twenty minutes. Even if he were to meet it again, he doubted if the dog would have the heart to try another attack.

  He began to move quietly through the leafy border when he heard a twig snap. He took cover behind a tree and waited. It would probably be the dog handler, coming to find his dogs. Sean peered around warily, making out the shape of a man in uniform. The man reached for his walkie-talkie.

  Sean listened intently as the man made his call. Bursts of static obscured some of the words.

  ‘… One of them has run back, I’m just …’

  The man ended the call and started to move towards the dog behind Sean. He could hear it still making painful snuffling noises. Sean waited, listening as the man’s heavy footsteps crunched the brittle undergrowth. The sound grew louder until Sean judged that the man was opposite his hiding place. He stepped out in front of him.

  ‘Are you the dogs’ owner?’

  The look of astonishment and puzzlement on the man’s face was comical. Sean hit him hard in the midriff. When the man bent over in pain, Sean stepped around and hit him once more over the kidneys. The man sagged to the ground.

  He tied the man’s hands and feet together with plasti-cuffs. The guard did not put up any resistance. Finally, he taped over the man’s mouth, careful to ensure he could still breathe through his nose. Sean patted the man down and relieved him of his radio, night stick and ID cards.

  He looked around and saw the beginning of a low wall, running from the edge of the trees to
wards the house. It was three feet high, made of stone, and enclosed a garden where vegetables and flowers grew in profusion. Sean crouched and slipped over the wall, using it to conceal himself from any watchers in the house. He waited a minute before crawling along the base, stopping at a point closest to the house.

  Slowly he raised his head. A well manicured lawn was all that stood between him and the house. There was no cover, nor alternative way of approach. As soon as he stepped out on the lawn, he could be seen by anyone inside the house.

  The mobile trilled quietly. Lomax took out the phone, registering the fact that London was signalling again. He keyed in a four digit pin decryption code. The text of the message left no room for doubt.

  Lomax sighed deeply and tucked the phone away in its holster. He struggled into a spare set of overalls from the back of the car. Taking out the automatic from the glove compartment, he stuffed it into a pocket. He pulled on a dark woollen balaclava, but left it folded up so it came no lower than his forehead. Checking in the mirror, it looked like any other woollen hat. Then he reached down and hid the car keys under the rubber mat.

  Lomax went round to the back of the van and brought out a collapsible wooden stool. He unfolded it and positioned it underneath the fence. Looking round for the last time he stepped up onto the stool and stiffly straddled the fence.

  Like Sean before him, Lomax waited and listened on the other side. He could hear panting and when he drew closer he saw the dog on its side, still suffering from the effects of the spray.

  A little further on Lomax came upon the guard, trussed up and wriggling on the ground. He gave him a cursory glance then stepped around him, following the path Sean had taken.

  It took a lot longer than the four seconds delay for a reaction to occur.

  First he could hear the sound of coughing and cursing. The door of the guard hut flew open and two men stumbled out, doubled over with the combined effects of the smoke and tear gas. Two minutes later Sean had both trussed up and back in the wooden hut which was now largely free of the gas.