by M G Leslie
As Price rounded a corner, anyone looking on would have seen a wry smile on his face as he saw the small sign above a public house that read, The Town Of Ramsgate. "This brings back memories," he thought to himself, as he ducked his head and walked through the low door in to the small pub.
Casually wondering up to the bar, he ordered a pint of Old Speckled Hen, and sat down on a stool. “Cheers,” he said as he turned to Chas.
“Cheers my friend – this brings back memories.”
Price just smiled, “Very true – I was just thinking the same thing myself.”
“So how did it end?”
“I confronted Fabio in front of his department head, the Chief and an old friend of ours.”
“Of ours? You mean a Para mate?”
“You remember Mudada Iwu?”
Chas laughed, “Old Muddy? Yeah of course I remember him – I didn’t know he joined your outfit? He went home to Zimbabwe.”
“I know he did mate. We recruited him there to do some work for us – he’s very good.”
Chas leaned back against the bar – thinking – then said, “He was a bit older than you and me you know. I think he’s in his forties now. It’s been a while actually – I must say hello some time.”
“You just missed him I’m afraid. He was in town but is flying out tonight. He looks pretty good for his age though. I reckon he keeps fit.”
Chas looked serious, “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?”
“Yeah of course. Old Muddy. Why?”
“Not after the murder.”
Price was horrified, “What murder?”
“His daughter – didn’t you know?”
“No?”
“You recall he had two children right?”
“Yes, I do now you mention it I suppose.”
“Well his daughter was murdered in her home in Hong Kong. A gangland hit they reckoned. The police put it down to mistaken identity – Jennifer I think her name was.”
Price froze with horror for a second, before mouthing the words, “Jennifer Lee.”
Chas stared back, “Yes that’s right. She was married briefly – then they separated I think. Old Muddy and I used to chat – occasionally, we used to meet up for lunches. But after her death, he was a different man – bitter and twisted – just talked about getting back at someone – then we lost touch some months back and haven’t spoken since – he stopped answering my calls and everything. If he comes back again, you really should let me know mate.”
Price didn’t move or speak.
Chas looked at his expression and, realising there was a problem, quickly finished his beer, stood up and grabbed Price’s arm, “Let’s go – you can tell me about it as we head back to my place for some cheap booze.”
As they walked out in to the deserted street Chas said, “So I’m guessing it wasn’t a gangland hit after all.”
Price didn’t need to answer – he just glanced at Chas as they walked along.
“Why the hell would you do that – she was a nice girl?”
“She was identified as a spy.”
Chas stopped and turned to face Price – grabbing his arm to stop him. “No mate – no chance – she was a human rights lawyer! She married her husband, who was a partner in the firm – they were at law school together. I remember Muddy telling me about it – he was really proud of her doing so well.”
Price just looked back, “So why was I told she was a spy?”
“How the hell do I know? But I’m telling you, there’s no way mate. She used to do research – so I know she occasionally upset people and got in to a spot of bother. But trust me – she was clean – I met her – I went to her wedding for Christ’s sake.”
“Yeah, I knew you were close to the family.”
“Who ID’d her as the spy?”
“It was Fabio, I checked.”
“What?” said Chas, “The man you just locked up?”
Again Price didn’t need to answer – his shocked expression said it all.
“Are you sure he’s guilty? Actually, scrub that – why did you check? Or is that normal in your job?”
“A friend of mine warned me that she was innocent – after the event I might add. And to answer your other question, I found computer files in South America with his name on.”
“Why South America?”
“Files in a lab in Africa pointed to South America.”
“How did you find the files?”
Price smiled, “Mudada told me where to look.”
“What else mate?”
“Mudada named him as well – way back at the beginning of this whole episode. He phoned me up and told me it was Fabio.”
“Are you sure this isn’t Mudada getting back at Fabio? And setting you up to get back at him?”
“Hang on hang on,” said Price. “It’s not that easy. They were on my case the whole time. They were looking for me from the word go. They were all over me the moment I left the original meeting in London – all the way through my journey to Africa and afterwards.”
“OK, who knew where you were going?”
“Actually, I guess Mudada did – certainly he knew I was going to the original briefing – and I met his wife at the train station in Harare to get a map off her.”
Now it was Chas’s turn to stay silent – so Price spoke, “Crap! Are we saying Muddy is bent?”
Chas laughed, “I’m not sure he’s gay mate.”
Now Price laughed as well, “You know full well what I mean – bent as in crooked. But if you’re right, that would explain why Fabio was so damned desperate.”
“I’d be desperate with people like you around mate. He probably thinks he’ll go home and not wake up.”
“He was pretty close to being right quite frankly.”
By this time, they’d started walking again – then Price stopped, “That explains the message.”
“What message?”
“There was a file in Africa that talked about discrediting someone or some people. And then it mentioned the Jennifer issue.”
“Sounds like you weren’t meant to find that one.”
Price started walking again as he replied, “You may be right. But Muddy showed no hesitation in helping me when people came for us.”
“Sounds like he doesn’t realise your involvement with his daughter.”
Price thought for a moment and then said, “Actually, I’m not so sure – he said something weird on the flight home.”
“What?”
“He asked if I always knew who they were.”
“You mean your targets – if you’ll excuse the expression?”
“Yes.”
“So what now?”
“Let’s assume for one moment that you’re right – Jennifer was innocent, Fabio may be innocent as well, although that’s to be confirmed, and it was Mudada all along – carrying out some huge plan for revenge. If that’s the case, why did Fabio name Jennifer as a spy?”
“She wasn’t a spy mate – I promise you – I knew her. Where did he get the evidence?”
“GCHQ intercepts – it wasn’t his own work.”
“So could it have been a genuine mistake?”
Price sighed, “No. There was a lot of good evidence. We don’t just go around eliminating people on the basis of hearsay.”
“Then he or someone else planted the evidence.”
“So maybe he’s not working alone,” said Price. “Actually, that would make sense, because I can tell you – he’s absolutely loaded – or his wife is anyway. I know it looked like he was doing this for the money, but he didn’t need to – trust me.”
Chas just looked back at his friend and said, “What now mate?”
“SIS – I’ll get you in – we need to see the Chief.”
“If I’d known we were going there, I wouldn’t have worn this t-shirt mate.”
Price smiled, “Yeah, I’m not sure a t-shirt that says, ‘Communist Girls Swallow’ on the front i
s ideal for a meeting with the Chief of the service – but it’s too late now.”
Chas laughed, “Certainly is – because they do!”
“Very funny.”
As they hurried back to the main road and hailed a taxi, Chas said, “Vauxhall Cross!” Then he looked at Price and said, “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to say that.”
Price just frowned disapprovingly, “You’re such a child.”
It was nearly a week later, and early evening, when Fabio Alexander arrived at José Mancilla’s Merida house and pressed the buzzer.
“Yes?”
“I have information for Mr. Mancilla – he will want to hear from me – I have very valuable information for him.”
“What information?”
“I can tell him why a recent shipment of his went wrong. And I can explain why his house was recently flooded – how it was done – and why. He knows me. Open up please.”
“What’s your name?”
“Fabio Alexander.”
“Wait.”
Fabio waited patiently. Then, after a few minutes, as he expected, the gate buzzed and he walked through – only to be met by four security guards who immediately searched him.
As he walked in to the house, Mancilla was standing in the hallway. “So you’re Fabio. Finally we get to meet face to face,” he said, stepping forward and holding out his right hand.
“Yes. I can explain everything. I have uncovered the people in the UK intelligence service that gave our operation away and I have dealt with them – they’re no longer in the picture.”
Mancilla stared in to his eyes, “Continue.”
“Well there was a man stationed here. His first name was Pete, and he was involved in infiltrating this house and the flooding that took place. He was the man I tipped you off about and, as you probably know, is now deceased. So I’m in charge now – so we’re back in business.”
“Who’s taking over from you in Africa?”
“I’m running that as well for the moment. But I’ll recruit a replacement – and they’ll work for me.”
“So you’re in charge?”
“Yes – look here,” replied Fabio as he reached in to his pocket and handed Mancilla some paperwork. These are the details of the way your house was infiltrated – the explosion device, the communications that took place and the information that was gained from your computer.
Also, on the second sheet, you’ll see details of the coastal patrols and drug enforcement agency patrols in Namibia – I can give you even more details once I know exactly when your shipments are due to arrive. As I say, we’re back in business.”
“We lost a good man in Namibia as well.”
“Yes I know,” said Fabio. “I can explain that as well – although that was entirely avoidable, because he ran in to a secure area whilst trying to escape from the police. Look, perhaps we can we sit down somewhere and talk business? Rather than standing here in the hallway?”
“Yes, you’re right. We should talk,” said Mancilla as he started to walk in to his dining room. “Come in here – let’s get a drink first.”
Fabio followed, as Mancilla walked up to a drinks cabinet and poured a large glass of tequila, before turning, “Please do continue.”
“The man in Namibia was attempting to meet the drugs shipment, but the tip-off, by my MI6 colleagues, meant that he just created suspicion and as I say, he was shot whilst trying to escape after asking too many questions.”
“I see,” said Mancilla – just before he looked up – for the first time breaking eye contact as he looked over Fabio’s shoulder. Then he said, “I think you should meet a good friend of mine, because he tells me that you’re the one who’s double-crossing your own people and are now attempting to double-cross me.”
“What? No – I’m telling you the truth.”
“I don’t think so.”
Mancilla reached in to his pocket and retrieved his pistol – casually checking that it was loaded, before pointing it at Fabio’s head at point blank range.
Fabio spoke calmly, “You are very mistaken – I can prove I’m on your side.”
Mancilla just stared at him emotionless, as he repeated, “Let me introduce a good friend of mine.”
Mudada Iwu walked around to face Fabio, who just looked back at him with a blank and unemotional expression.
“I don’t think he’s very pleased to see me José.”
Mancilla gave a short laugh, before saying, “No. However, by the same token, he doesn’t seem exactly surprised to see you – and that can only mean one thing.”
“It’s over Mancilla. You to Mudada,” said Fabio with renewed confidence – glancing left to right to look at both men. “We know your game and we know you were working together from the beginning. Put the gun down and maybe you’ll get out of here alive. Or do you both want to go and visit Jennifer in hell?”
Mancilla didn’t react – he was much older than the other men – so time and experience meant he just brushed off the remark. However, Mudada wasn’t able to contain himself – attacking Fabio and grabbing him round the neck.
Mancilla immediately realised the mistake – he recognised the deliberate attempt to distract their attention. Fabio must have known that Mudada would react, because he certainly seemed well prepared for the onslaught and was more than able to defend himself.
“This is a set up,” he thought as he shouted out for guards to come to his aid. However, before they could react, the lights went out – plunging them all in to darkness.
Despite not being able to see anything, all three men became aware of lots of movement around them – whilst outside they could hear shouting – then lots of flashes and then automatic gunfire.
Mancilla thought he saw something and in desperation, fired his pistol. Then a flash from across the room signalled that someone had returned fire. As Mancilla dropped his gun and fell to the ground, the hole in his leg where the bullet had passed through, felt cold. It didn’t really hurt for some reason – perhaps the nerve endings had been damaged or the adrenalin had neutralised the pain. He didn’t know – but as he sat on the ground clinging to his leg, just as suddenly as they had switched off, the lights came back on.
The new scene was very different, however. Instead of a neatly arranged dining room, men dressed in black outfits surrounded him – all wearing head gear so that their faces were covered.
Mudada had been knocked to the ground and was bleeding profusely under his right eye – whilst Fabio stood quietly in the far corner – safe and sound.
Nobody spoke – although, outside they could still hear shouting and the occasional burst of gunfire. Then after a few seconds, one of the men’s walkie-talkies came to life – it said, “All clear,” then the room fell completely silent.
Two of the men clad in black walked forward to face Mancilla and Mudada, removing their facemasks in the process.
Mudada was visibly shocked as Chas and Price looked down at him.
“Was all this really just about revenge?” asked Chas.
“I worked for our country – I fought for our country – then he sticks me in a drug factory and pays me a pittance,” Mudada replied – pointing at Price. “A lousy wage – and then they kill my daughter!”
Chas continued, “I backed you mate – I told Price your daughter was innocent. But you know something? You killed her! You were sending her secret information – you were sending her intelligence reports that she sold on to further her career. We can prove that – I’ve seen the evidence – we can prove it. Whilst you passed it to her very discreetly – she didn’t have your skills – so she got caught – and now you have.”
Mudada looked shocked as he said, “What are you talking about? What the hell do you mean? I did nothing of the kind.”
But before anyone could reply, Mancilla interrupted, “Shut up Mudada! They have no evidence!” Then he looked a Price and Chas, and said, “You guys are in real trouble. If you get out of here alive, my people wil
l find you. You will never be safe. And if you try and lock me up and go through the courts? Well good luck with that – pretty much all the judges are my best friends.”
Price decided it was his turn to speak, “I just wanted confirmation that you were behind this Mudada. I classed you as a friend. I regret that now.”
Mudada started to speak again, “What are you talking about? You’re all full of crap!”
“You see – I did tell you he was bitter and twisted,” said Chas – almost as a joke.
Mancilla started laughing, “You guys still don’t understand. You haven’t got a clue. It would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.” Then as he started to say, “See that man over there,” he raised his arm to point across the room. But as he did so, a gunshot rang out – the bullet striking him square in the head – killing him outright.
Price dived to the side, spinning round to face the gunman in the process, whilst Chas just turned – also ready to fire. But as they looked to the corner of the room, they realised it was Fabio that had fired – he was standing still, apparently frozen in terror.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Price shouted as he stood up.
“I saw his arm move and thought he had a gun,” Fabio replied – his voice clearly shaking from fear.
“He was our witness for Christ’s sake!”
“I… I thought…” Fabio stuttered. But before he could finish, Chas walked over and took the gun from his hand – then looking back at Price, he just shrugged his shoulders.
Meanwhile, conscious that attention has been diverted elsewhere, Mudada had noticed Maniclla’s gun out of the corner of his eye. With one eye on the gun and the other on Price, he surreptitiously reached under a nearby table, where it had fallen, and grabbed hold of it – discreetly placing it behind his own body, out of sight of any of the men.
As Price, was about to say something else to Fabio, Mudada judged that there was now nobody pointing a gun directly at him. He thought for a second, realising that, even if he did fire the gun and kill someone, he faced certain death – he was heavily outnumbered – but he wanted to avenge the death of his daughter – and with nothing else in his mind, he swung his arm around to point it at Price. Then he said, “Price?”