Three Faces of West (2013)

by Christian Shakespeare

  “There! What’s that?” Asked Jack bolting upright in his chair. The engineer zoomed in on an image of a crowd moving along a busy high street. He enhanced it to make it clearer,

  “That’s him! That’s Bruenstein! Where and when was that taken?”

  The engineer scrambled to gain the information, “Three days ago. Look it’s found other images as well, all over the past couple of days.”

  At least four images of Bruenstein were captured all within the space of four days that they had detected so far. But there was still not much clue to the whereabouts; so West decided to employ the technician in determining so,

  “Is there a way to determine the location of these captures? Can we say where these images were taken?”

  “I imagine so, it’ll take some time to determine the surrounding buildings but yes we should be able to.”

  Just as Jack was told this the door behind them opened as John entered to join them. He seemed clearly excited,

  “Just found out that Bruenstein had links to BeeBee.org, he used it to publicise his stake in APF Industries. It’s clear that he used the internet site to discredit the police and security services.”

  “Looks like our friend has an ulterior motive to hide his acquaintance with this extremist propaganda site.” Concluded Jack,

  “I’d like to know what it is.” Replied John just as a computer screen that the technician at the side had been working on flickered,

  “Got it.” He said, turning away from a computer screen showing a bird’s eye map of the local area. It was clear he had traced the origins of the image,

  “I’ve located the area where the captured CCTV images come from. It’s Belgravia, all the captures are recent. So if he’s still here, that’s where he’s likely to be.”

  Both Jack and John moved closer to get a better look, “Well at least we now know the district Bruenstein frequents.” Said Jack,

  “Still, we don’t have the resources to cover the whole area.” Said John despondently,

  “If only we could get a better fix on him to put a watch out there.”

  Jack gazed on at the computer screen map, “Yes.” He mumbled quietly.

  Blackfriars Bridge, central London, with the traffic and passers-by transversing the span and crossing the river a solitary figure in a black suit and a similar coloured overcoat stands. Looking westwards and leaning against the iron sides of the structure he cuts a strangely lonely figure. Out of the crowds a similar looking man appears to approach. Also dressed in a suit, this time blue topped with a dark grey overcoat he accompanies the lonely figure,

  “Charlie, it good to see you again.” Said the approaching man in a distinct American accent.

  “Richard, it’s nice to see you too, and I prefer Charles actually.” Was the reply as the two men shook hands. The American continued the introduction,

  “Sorry, Charles, I keep forgetting. So how’s life in British Intelligence? Still insist on your guys calling you by your surname, Harvey?”

  “I’m OK, and yes I prefer it that way. So Richard, how is the CIA treating you these days?”

  “Oh fine. Listen you didn’t just ask me over here for a chat. How can I help?”

  Harvey hesitated for a second, then spoke, “Do you know anything about ‘Scarlett Dawn’?”

  Richard bolted upright from his position leaning against the iron structure. His expression turning deadly serious, “What do you know about Scarlett Dawn?” He himself then hesitated, “C’mon Charlie what do you know?…You think we had something to do with this? Are you implying that what happened over at Kings Cross a few days ago was sanctioned by my government?…Hay, look, I want to make it clear that my government would not authorise a bombing on British soil!”

  Harvey could see the point was getting sensitive. He turned to face his CIA counterpart,

  “And I want to make it clear that my government would never imply the US instigating a terrorist attack on an ally. Such an allegation would cause a diplomatic storm between Washington and London.”

  Richard backed down, “Exactly.”

  “So you can help me in other ways.” Harvey continued, “What can you tell me about one of your former operatives, a man called Victor Bruenstein.”

  Richard thought for a second before remembering something in the back of his mind, “Bruenstein…yeah I seem to remember something about this guy. Former CIA officer, became a rogue agent around 10 years ago, seemed to have links to terrorist organisations. You think this fella is linked to the Kings Cross bombing?”

  “Yes, but I’ve reason to believe he’s involved with something else.” Replied Harvey,

  “You think this guy’s trying another plot?”

  “That would explain the Scarlett Dawn phrase. Given his knowledge of the intelligence community, I wouldn’t put it past him. Look Richard, I need info; He was one of your men, if you have anything on him you need to share it.”

  The American cut in, “Charles you know that if it threatens US interests I could share intelligence, you know that, I can’t get involved.”

  Harvey in turn cut him off, “I know I appreciate that but I have reason to believe my country’s interests are threatened here so that means I am involved weather I like it or not. You know as well as I do it’s what we are in this business for. Please Richard…it’s important.”

  Richard was wavering. He knew full well the implications of missing or failing to gather knowledge, the slightest mistake could cost lives,

  “I can’t.” He said prompting Harvey to try something else,

  “What if I told you we have intercepted certain ‘interesting’ communications regarding a US government contract to ship chemicals to China.”

  Richard took an indifferent stance on the matter, “So what, it’s just a harmless trade agreement between the United States and China.” But Harvey had a trick up his sleeve,

  “Using products that feasibly could be used in rocket technology.”

  “There’s no indication the Chinese are using foreign aid to any secret rocket program.” Argued the CIA chief. However Harvey played his blackmailing trump card,

  “What would you say if we also intercepted intelligence indicating a deal between China and North Korea.” Richard began to listen intensely as Harvey continued, “North Korea and China are both ideologically linked, and the Chinese do provide their own aid to the North Koreans. And unlike the Chinese, they do have their own secret rocket program. Would be pretty embarrassing for the President, and for the CIA I imagine. The United States, the world’s largest Federal country supplying military technology via a false flag to North Korea, the world’s most isolationist hard-line Communist state. Now that would take some explaining, and it wouldn’t look good.”

  Richard knew what this meant, and what Harvey was trying to do. Feeling sympathy for his MI5 counterpart, he decided to release as much as he dared,

  “OK look, in the interest of ‘democratic relations’, I’ll tell you the location of a CIA safe house used to conduct debriefings and interrogations. It’s in Belgravia, you might want to start there.”

  That was good enough for Harvey, “I’m very grateful Richard. Thank you.”

  Richard sent by email a location of the safe house from his phone to Harvey’s, “Alright, I have to go. Good luck Charlie, you owe me one, you can start by sharing intelligence on the Chinese and North Korean trade deal.”

  Leaving Harvey with the location of the Belgravia safe house he immediately set about forwarding it to West back at Thames House. Once sent he then phoned him immediately to confirm receipt.

  West, along with Hudson and the technician was pouring over the maps when his phone buzzed. Picking it up and seeing it was a message from Harvey he immediately opened it,

  “What on Earth?”

  “What’s up?” Asked John, concerned,

  “Harvey has given us an address of a suspected CIA safe house. Possibly used by Bruenstein. 38 Eaton Square, where is that?”

/>   “Belgravia.” Replied the technician. This was definitely the breakthrough they had been waiting for. Having no time to react as the phone rang, Harvey was on the other end,

  “Hello?…Yes we got it, don’t know how you did it but we’re grateful. Yes we’ll go there right now, what?…right OK, I will…thanks.”

  Putting the phone down Hudson could tell exactly what was going to happen,

  “We off to Belgravia?”

  West hesitated slightly before issuing his reply,

  “Yes, but you go to the car, I’ve got to stop off somewhere first and pick something up.”

  This unusual reply heightened John’s suspicions again,

  “Why?”

  “Don’t ask questions…just do it.”

  John did as he was instructed, but he was not happy. The next move was clear but Jack seemed to be becoming cagey again just like he was with Grey at Bellmarsh prison. Walking toward the entrance only served to fuel his imagination, he knew the logical progression of the investigation but he was also acutely aware there were vital missing pieces of the puzzle, and he was being left out. It was starting to become annoying. Perhaps things would become clearer at Belgravia but he doubted it.

  Chapter 13:

  Eaton Square, Belgravia: 1:15pm. The silver Lexus pulls up in an obviously well to do area, one of the more fashionable areas of the city, complete contrast to the drug ridden slum of the Lion Inn. Switching the engine off, both West and Hudson were faced with the grandeur of the upper class parts of London town,

  “Fashionable.” Said John as they stepped outside; before them they lay a large row of cream coloured terraced houses, built in the Georgian style according to the architecture. Rows of columns and large oversized windows lined the exterior of each clean looking property, it was clear he land value here was in the millions. Instantly they tried to look for number 38, each plot was separate but there was only one they were looking for. They didn’t have to look very far,

  “There it is; number 38.” Said John as he pointed to the end terrace. On the outside it looked no different to the others,

  “Right, let’s go and find a way in.” Replied West, as he picked up a small parcel from the back seat of the car. Small and covered in brown paper John wanted to know whatever it was. It bore a white address label so it obviously looked like something innocent that could easily be delivered,

  “What’s that?” He asked,

  “Nothing.” Was the reply. Not satisfied he watched the body language of his partner who was behaving rather cagey in nature. Trying to evade any more questioning West tried to deflect the subject back to the assignment,

  “We need to gain entry.” He said,

  “What about the front door? Do you think we should be trying that first? John asked,

  Dismissing this straight away he wanted to try and gain another more discreet way inside,

  “No that’s too obvious. Come on, let’s check round the side, try and gain entry where we cannot be seen.”

  “Rather criminal don’t you think?” John thought to himself.

  Moving around the side, they found a pathway through a black cast iron gate which was not locked. A tall line of conifer trees in full growth provided the perfect cover against prying eyes in the adjoining street. Moving further on against the whitewashed walls their vision shifted around on the lookout for any cameras. Both were very aware of the dangers of failing to spot CCTV, the lessons of Southampton still burned in their minds. Luckily there was a window, closed and not as large and grand as the ones making up the frontage but it will do. West approached and tried to open it, the frame being one of those old fashioned ones that will slide upwards, but it did not budge,

  “It’s locked.” Noted John, “Can we force it?”

  “Perhaps. Need to try some alternative methods.”

  With John looking on, Jack proceeded to grab the window frame for a few seconds while tugging at it. Brute force was not going to work so Jack resorted to more primitive methods, picking up a stone without hesitation he banged it against the glass, shattering it immediately. The noise to the break in did not cause any alarm as he reached inside to undo the latch. The shattered glass strewn all over the floor both inside and out pointed a clear way in for the intruders as the latch came away easily in West’s hand. Sliding upwards smoothly once Jack lifted it he followed by John crawled through. The glass crunching beneath their feet as the hit the floor,

  “Well, that was a novel way in. So much for discretion, someone could have heard.”

  West rebuked the argument, “I don’t think so. If I’m right, I don’t think this place is used anymore. Certainly not by the CIA or even by Bruenstein himself.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’m not.”

  A small kitchen was the area they found themselves in. It looked like it was used for cooking, although it wasn’t the most hygienic of places. Immediately both men started to look around; pot and pans strewn across the work surfaces and tables. Some used; others still have the sheen on them but all out of place. Looking up, shelves spanned the dark yellow walls filled with other kitchenware, utensils hung like limp unused items,

  “Not a very well kept kitchen is it?” Jack commented,

  “No not really. Wouldn’t want to eat any foot prepared in here.”

  “I agree.”

  Checking around the mess, they were reluctant to touch anything due to the grease and grime. But something was out of place,

  “What’s this?” Asked John, “Jack come here, take a look.”

  “What have you found?”

  “What do you make of that?”

  Picking up from one of the work surfaces close to the sink, John held in his hand a shiny golden object,

  Jack looked closely, “That’s a key. But to what?”

  “What’s it doing here?”

  “Where did you find it?” Jack queried,

  “Down here underneath this work surface. It was just placed on one of these shelves amongst these pots and pans.” Explained John.

  Jack thought for a second, “Obviously put here to conceal it. I wonder if there’s another key? Makes sense since I don’t see why you would just put a single one in an unusual place like this. Must be part of a set.”

  “Where do you think the other one supposedly is? In there?” Replied John pointing to the doorway in the corner of the room,

  “Let’s find out.”

  They moved through the doorway taking the key they found with them. With pistols tucked away underneath their jackets just in case anything happened, they precariously moved forward. Cautiously entering they found themselves in a living room that was as deserted as the kitchen. It seemed normal enough, spacious and comfortable for a property of this value. Light flooded in through the large Georgian windows to highlight the dark green flock wallpaper, reddish carpet and the leather chairs surrounding the fireplace that dominated one entire wall. Looking around again, a dark oak cabinet rested on a back wall opposite the windows. Jack immediately made for it. The glass doors and the shelves inside revealed an array to little objects, ornaments, pictures and the like. The drawers underneath unopened possibly contained documents and letters, but he did not go for these. Through the glass, sunlit and shinning from the reflection he could see some pictures, black and white photographs of people. Moving in closer he could see a group photograph of what looked like military personnel in dress uniform. Even though the picture had a distinct lack of colour it was obvious to determine the contrast, and they were wearing what looked like dark uniforms. Each man donned a white peaked cap with blue coloured trousers sporting stripes; West knew immediately who these individuals were,

  “These guys in the photograph, they’re marines; they’re US Marines, in dress uniform.”

  John came over and joined him,

  “Do you think this Bruenstein could be associated with them?”

  “Possibly. It could be that Bruenstein was in the military befo
re the CIA, very likely the US Marines judging from this photograph, although I can’t see him here.”

  “Can we determine if he was a US Marine? Asked John,

  “Given time, but we don’t have that luxury. If we can find evidence, something to definitely pin him to here.”

  The cabinet was rather cluttered with various objects but everything couldn’t hide anything incriminating from closer scrutiny. Opening the drawers to obtain the contents seemed the next logical step after examining the upper part behind the glass, these wasn’t anything else of interest there. There was only one drawer, about a foot long in width. West pulled at the brass handle to expose the contents only to be greeted by various papers. As Jack set to work, Hudson moved away to conduct the search around the room leaving West to scrutinise the documents he found. There was nothing really that spectacular really, a few ordinary letters out of date others more recent, it made no matter Jack quickly read them all. Fumbling down underneath, he tried to reach other papers that might hold a clue as to Bruenstein’s whereabouts. Pulling out a small bundle of other papers he was astonished to bring out an old colour photograph,

  “Got you! That’s him! That’s Victor Bruenstein!”

  John walked over, “What?”

  “Look, the photograph.” Replied Jack while showing the picture to John. Clearly it was a group photo not in military uniform, but the tall dark haired figure near the right was the one that caught the eye,

  “That’s Bruenstein.” Said John,

  “I know. Well at least we now know he was definitely here. What’s that you found?”

  Noticing that John had come over with his hands full, West was intrigued,

  “Found this on the mantelpiece, it’s another key, not like the one found in the kitchen, silver in colour, not gold.”

  “So could it be for something different?” Asked West,

  “I think so.”

  West also noticed that Hudson was carrying a small ceramic ornament, a white figurine of the Statue of Liberty. Noticing that Jack was interested, John intervened,

  “I also found this on the mantelpiece as well.”