by M G Leslie
Chas just looked back at his old friend, shrugged his shoulders and said, “What can you do?”
“Quite nicely by the look of this place,” said Price. “I always knew you’d do well when you left the Paras.”
“It suits me mate – I guess I can’t complain. We get the punters in for twenty quid a pop. Then they get some live music to watch downstairs whilst girls rub against them, take over-priced cocktails off them.”
“And cover them in cheap perfume,” Price interrupted.
Chas laughed, “The very same. Harmless fun,” then he handed Price a coffee. “So what brings you here anyway? Our secret service seen some sense at last and thrown you out on your ear?”
“It’s good to see you to. But to be honest – I’m being followed and wanted to lose them.”
Chas stopped smiling and sat down on a kitchen chair as he sipped his coffee before saying, “Are they out there now? I’ll help you sort them out if you want mate?”
“I left one back down by Berwick Street. I don’t think he saw me come in here – so they’ll probably be searching the area for me for a while"
“Do you know who are they are?”
“No. But the one I left on the floor down the road was a Londoner – definitely a Brit.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“I thought perhaps I could chill out for a while until they give up if you don’t mind.”
“Sure mate. No problem at all. You can stay here as long as you like – you know that. Or if you fancy, downstairs with the cheap perfume to keep you company?”
“Ha ha ha – very funny. Not today – but another time definitely. I’ll just make a quick call though if that’s OK.”
“Sure go right ahead,” said Chas, “More coffee?”
“Thanks.”
Price retrieved his mobile phone, entered a special pin code that enabled some encryption software to prevent any eavesdropping, and dialled the Chief of Staff’s mobile phone, which was answered almost immediately.
“Hello.”
“Someone followed me the moment I left the office.”
“Do you know who?”
“No. But I have a SIM card from his mobile phone. Can I give you the IMEI number?”
“Sure – send it through – I’ll get it checked. I won’t ask how you obtained it.”
“Probably best if you don’t.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yeah I’m fine – I lost them.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“Yes.”
Then with a hint of annoyance in his voice, Price added, “You don’t need to worry about me – I can take care of myself.”
“You’re not home then.”
“No.”
“OK. Send through the SIM and I’ll call you back.”
“Thanks.”
Price dropped the call, then took a photo of the back of the SIM card with his phone and sent it to the Chief of Staff, before picking up the fresh coffee.
“I could put that in a spare phone I’ve got and we could see what the number is mate,” said Chas.
“Best not,” said Price. “If it’s a foreign nation, they’ll probably be tracking the SIM logins to our phone network and that will give away our location. I’ll just wait if you don’t mind.”
“You’re joking right?”
“No mate. I know it sounds crazy – but it happens.”
Both men paused for a while, then Chas said, “I miss it sometimes you know. I mean – don’t get me wrong – I think you’re insane doing what you do – actually, maybe not insane – but definitely a bit mad. But I miss the teamwork – you know what I mean – how we covered each other’s backs.”
“All for one – one for all,” Price joked.
Chas laughed, “Yeah. Not that we were the three musketeers – but yeah – it’s very different in Civvie Street.”
Price smiled, “You seem pretty happy here. And you’ve probably increased your life expectancy a thousand times over.”
“Yeah – and I’m in talks with the guy next door – I’m going to buy it off him and create a larger place that’s just music.”
“What? No girls?” Price joked – pretending to be horrified.
“The girls are a pain in the arse mate – emotional, moody, always bitching at each other – or at me.”
Price laughed, “Is that all women – or just these ones?”
Chas just smiled, so Price continued, “No freebies then?”
“What with them? You must be joking! Or blind. Did you see the girl who brought you in here? She looks rougher than a grizzly bear’s arse. I mean… she wears makeup to put on weight.”
Price burst out laughing, “What was that other phrase you used to use? You know the one – when we used to go out drinking and you were enjoying a pint?”
Now Chas laughed as he said “Going down like a drunk blonde on a rock star?”
Price nodded and was about to reply, when his phone rang – bringing the joking around to an abrupt halt. It was the Chief of Staff. “Hi.”
“They’re Five.”
“What?” said Price, recognising the slang term for the UK’s Security Service – more commonly known as MI5. “Why would the Security Service want to follow me?”
“I know – I’m asking – they’re on the other line – hang on.”
There was a pause during which Price could hear the Chief of Staff speaking in the background – so he took another sip of his coffee as Chas mouthed the words, “MI5? What the f…”
Price shrugged his shoulders.
After a further pause, the Chief of Staff spoke, “You still there?”
“Yes.”
“They received an anonymous phone call claiming you were potentially going to plant or activate a bomb. They were planning to follow you and see where you were going. It was a last minute tip-off, so they hadn’t run your face through the computer yet and alerted us. If it makes you feel better, they’re extremely embarrassed and apologetic.”
“Who called them?”
“They’re trying to trace that now – but it looks like it was a call from a pre-paid mobile phone – so the chances are they’ll never know. Although, they’ve promised to check all the CCTV cameras in the cell the phone was in when the call was made and run everyone through the computer for facial recognition.”
“They’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“I think so, yes.”
“OK,” said Price. “But that doesn’t make sense. They don’t just send out a team to follow any Tom Dick or Harry that some crazy person claims is setting off a bomb. Why not just call the cops and have me arrested?”
“I know – that’s what I said. But apparently, the caller used a code word – one that added a level of legitimacy.”
“Even more reason to just arrest me,” replied Price – now getting slightly annoyed.
“They didn’t know where the alleged bomb was – so they had to follow you.”
“They did a lousy job.”
“Yes, but they did say it was short notice – and as I say, with the code word, they had no choice.”
“So who has this code word?”
“Five, the police, us, ally agencies in Europe and the US, their police forces and the likes of the FBI and Interpol”
“So all of the English speaking world and most of the rest then – in fact pretty much everyone except my mum,” said Price sarcastically, with anger showing in his voice.
Chas couldn’t help himself and openly started to laugh – much to Price’s annoyance – evidenced by the fact that he held up the classic British two-finger insult to Chas, which not surprisingly, made him laugh even more.
“Are you sure your mum doesn’t know,” replied the Chief of Staff – deciding to try and calm Price down by making light of the situation.
Price ignored it though, “That’s nuts. That’s f…. well it’s crazy anyway.”
“Yes. As I say, they are m
ost embarrassed. Oh and how hard did you hit their man?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Price lied.
“Of course not. Because if you had, you’d be arrested on charges of assault since he’s now in hospital.”
“What? After one blow to the stomach – that’s pathetic!”
“You hit him pretty hard it would seem – there’s possibly some internal bleeding.”
“Oh dear. I am sorry. I did get a good swing at him, I must admit,” said Price in a genuinely sombre tone.
“Yeah, well, next time call it in. Special Branch want to know what happened and I’ll have to inform the Chief. So next time, if there is a next time, follow the rules. Understood?”
“Got it. But what do you think? Related to the current case or just random?”
“I vote related – don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Watch your back. I suggest you avoid our usual means of communication and keep everything to a minimum.”
“Understood.”
“Good luck.”
Price didn’t reply – he just dropped the call and put his phone down on the seat next to him and looked up at Chas.
“So it was MI5?” asked Chas.
“Seems that way mate. Someone made a call – said I was going to plant a bomb or something.”
“That’s pretty crap mate. Tell you what – why don’t you stay here for the night?”
“I need to get on a flight tomorrow,” said Price.
“So, stay here tonight and I’ll run you home in the car tomorrow. Whoever the guys that put MI5 on to you are – they won’t trouble both of us together.”
Price hesitated and then said, “So I guess it’s an evening of cheap perfume and wondering hands then.”
Chas laughed, “They are very nice hands – very soft – even if the face attached to them is a total minger.”
“Great! I can’t wait,” said Price in a sarcastic tone.
Chas ignored him though and started to walk to the door, “Follow me.”
Walking back out in to the dark corridor, Chas locked the door and led Price down some even darker stairs.
A large man, that Price had to admit would be a formidable opponent even for him, was waiting at the bottom. He stepped forward to block their path – only recognising Chas at the last minute, due to the very low level of the lighting.
On seeing Chas though, he stepped aside and said, “Hello Sir.”
Chas patted Price on the shoulder, “This is an old friend of mine from the Paras, Please look after him – everything is on the house for him. Please take good care of him and I’ll make sure you and the girls get a double tip today. OK?”
The man nodded that he understood then turned to Price and said, “Follow me.” Then with a hint of a smile, accompanied by an equal hint of sarcasm, he said, “Your delights await this way Sir.”
Price looked at Chas, who said, “I’ll be back in a bit – have some drinks on me – I’ll see you later.”
Price followed the man in to the dark room and sat down between two blonde girls who immediately wrapped themselves around him.
One said, “You’re so handsome.”
Price just sighed – thinking, “She needs glasses.”
Then the other grabbed him between the legs and said, “Very big.”
Price just looked at her, and with a combination of sarcasm and incredulity, said, “Oh please.”
Then the other girl kissed him on the cheek before whispering, “I want to be with you tonight honey.”
“That’s an eastern European accent if I’m not mistaken,” said Price, deciding to try and hold a conversation and ideally, change the subject away from his genitals.
“We are from the Ukraine,” the girl on his left answered.
Price turned his head to face her and said, “Ty ochen' krasivaya.”
She smiled then placed her hands on either side of his face, pulled him towards her and kissed him passionately on the lips. “Thank you – I try and be beautiful for you honey.”
Then she grabbed him between the legs and gave his private parts a small squeeze.
“This can only end badly,” thought Price as he ordered a drink and heard himself say, “So, what are your names? My name is Price.”
“Ah, big Price,” one girl said – as the other one started to laugh.
Price just looked at her and, with resignation showing in his voice, said, “I suppose it’s pointless to ask you to behave yourself.”
Both girls just laughed – so Price took that to mean, “Yes – totally pointless.”
As it turned out, it didn’t end too badly. Chas and Price had spent most of the evening drinking and catching up on old times, whilst a series of business men arrived, were entertained, separated from their money and left – most leaving the bar with their suits covered in glitter and cheap perfume – although none of them seemed to complain. On one occasion, Price had even asked, “You been here before?”
“Yeah,” the man had said, “It’s the only place around where they don’t totally rip you off. It’s a tenner to get in and another ten of fifteen quid for each drink, depending on whether you have beer or a cocktail – incredibly cheap for this area.”
Price had just laughed, held his drink in the air and said, “Cheers.”
The next day, early in the morning after a large breakfast, Chas led Price up the lane to Peter Street where they entered a private garage.
“That’s a pimps car,” said Price, as they got into Chas’s black Porsche 911 Turbo.
“Mate – it’s a 911 Turbo – it’s not a pimp’s car – it’s a piece of engineering perfection – the ultimate driving machine and all that stuff.”
“I agree the 911 is a lovely car – I’m not blaming Porsche – they made a truly wonderful car. The problem is, they sold it to some idiot that selected black with bright red leather? And you have tinted glass for Christ’s sake!”
Chas reluctantly agreed, as they made their way out of London and back to Price’s apartment, where they bid each other farewell until next time.
“This is why we have friends," Price thought, as he booked a flight to Asia's financial centre, the former British colony of Hong Kong, smiling to himself and mentally planning where he would have dinner – as it was one of his favourite places.
"Virgin Atlantic flights are one of the world’s treasures," Price thought to himself as the chauffeur-driven car pulled in to Virgin Atlantic's private check-in for Upper Class passengers in London Heathrow's Terminal 3 – fully in the knowledge that he would be in the London Virgin Clubhouse, arguably the best business lounge in the world, with a mind-blowing Bloody Mary in his hand in less than ten minutes, thanks to the private security channel.
And sure enough, just under ten minutes later, he heard himself say, "Yes, very spicy please – in fact, blow my head off, why don’t you!”
Then, just over 45 minutes later, his lips still slightly numb and tingling from the spices, he boarded the Airbus A340 for the 12 hour flight to Hong Kong’s Chek Lap Kok airport – on route, taking in a further four Bloody Mary’s at the on-board Upper Class bar.
Aside from it being an opportunity to get up from the seat and stretch his legs, Price enjoyed the interaction with other passengers and the aircrew. He’d met some interesting people over the years, from actors, to company directors and even a famous TV chef on one occasion. Although, none of that compared to one particular flight where he was on his way home after a particularly stressful assignment and drank way too much at the bar – in the end, he’d asked if he could open the door and let some fresh air in to clear his head.
To his relief, instead of having him arrested, the stewardess had said, “The doors won’t open above twelve thousand feet because of the difference in air pressure between the inside and outside.”
Price smiled to himself as he remembered the incident, whilst the aircraft taxied to the gate for disembarkation in Hong Kong – it was
one of those not particularly useful facts that would be stuck in his head forever.
Passing easily through customs and immigration, he entered the country, this time travelling under the name of Elliot Smith – an alias he used when he wanted to enter a country unnoticed. To his knowledge, the name had not been linked to his real identity and had a solid 'false history' that he knew inside and out – along with associated ID's, credit cards and bank cards. Indeed, he was fairly sure that, even his good friend, Mary, was unaware of this alias – although, after their last meeting, he felt less certain about that than he had in done previously. “I guess we’ll see,” he thought to himself. “Either I’ll get in and out safely, or she’ll beat the crap out of me again.”
Once in the arrivals lounge though, he purchased an Octopus card from the tourist desk – the local travel card that enables tourists to easily use Hong Kong’s trains and buses. Then, taking the high-speed train from the international airport on Chek Lap Kok Island, 25 minutes later he arrived at Central Station on Hong Kong Island, from where he took a taxi to the Tower View Hotel in Wan Chai.
A little known, some might say ‘boutique’, hotel, Price chose it for the location – away from the more well-known five star brands, such as the Grand Hyatt and Mandarin Oriental, but still walking distance from a huge number of Hong Kong’s greater eateries. Most importantly though, he didn’t want to draw attention – but did need to be on the island to meet an old friend. That was for tomorrow though.
Price left the hotel early the next day, taking a taxi and then the Peak Tram to Hong Kong’s most popular attraction, Victoria Peak. At an altitude of 552 metres, it is the highest point on Hong Kong Island and is almost universally referred to locally, simply as, the Peak.
The view from the Peak is one of the greatest in Asia – indeed, one of the world’s most spectacular cityscapes. Stretching out before you west to east, you can see the bridge that joins the mainland to the airport in the distance, beyond which is the likes of the famous gambling capital of Macau. Looking forward there’s the sparkling skyscrapers of the likes of HSBC and the Bank of China, then Victoria Harbour and Kowloon, and further across, the green hills of the New Territories.