Three Faces of West (2013)

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Three Faces of West (2013) Page 18

by Christian Shakespeare


  “The Statue of Liberty.”

  “Yes. But listen to that.” Noted John as he began to shake it. The metallic rattling noise from within was impossible to ignore,

  “It’s hollow, but there’s something in that.” Said West. Putting down the photo and documents, he picked it out of John hand to examine it a bit further. Turning it on its head he could see a hole in the bottom where the object was originally cast, peering inside there was something inside,

  “It’s a key.” He said.

  “How do we get it out?”

  Jack thought for a second; placing his fingers inside the hole he could feel the cold steel on his fingertips but there was no grip,

  “I can’t get it out.” He said

  “Smash it.” John replied

  Trying his best he still could not get the key out, breaking it may be the only option. Pulling his hand out he paced over to the corner of the wooden cabinet, statue in hand and positioned in over the joint. Lifting it up, he brought it down with force, shattering the statuette upon impact. Pieces of ceramic flew everywhere dusting the floor with white fragments. The key enclosed inside dropped with the remnants, landing on the floor with a louder clunk than the higher pitched smash of the ornament. Putting the ruined base on the top of the cabinet West bent down to pick up the key,

  “It’s identical to the one we found in the kitchen.” He said, “Look, same in design and colour.”

  “You think they are a set to something?”

  “Very likely, but to what?” West pondered,

  “Perhaps this extra key has something to do with it.” Said John. Jack agreed there really could be no other explanation. Standing up West looked round, they had to explore further,

  “Let’s have a look around, see if we can’t place these keys.”

  “Agreed.” Replied John,

  Making their way out of the living room, they found themselves in the main hall. The large black wooden door dominated on end of the hallway, across the black and white checked tiles another door stood, closed. Obviously this fuelled the curiosity of the two men as they walked up to it. Tentatively they gripped the brass knob handle but it would not turn, West tried again and then again once more, each time the handle would not engage the door latch,

  “It’s locked.” He said,

  “Try the keys.” Replied John as he stepped forward. Putting each key in the lock seemed futile as all fitted, but none would turn, ensuring the door staying tightly shut. Pausing, they realised that they could not get in, the door was just too heavy to break down without some kind of specialist equipment. Pausing as they looked round, the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway looked the most promising,

  “Try upstairs.” Remarked John, gesturing to the red carpeted staircase,

  “I have a feeling that whatever we are looking for is up there. Something out of sight.” Said West. They moved up the staircase, only two small flights and they were up in a first floor corridor. A large window flooded it with daylight, structurally above the front door, one door was on the right, but the left hand one was slightly ajar. Both men approached,

  “Careful.” Warned John as Jack put his hand on the dark brown oak door. Pushing it open slightly a deserted room greeted him. Feeling slightly more confident he opened it fully to be greeted with a medium sized room dominated in the middle by a conference table and chairs,

  “Looks like some kind of briefing room.” Said John as they both entered, instantly scanning round trying to identify anything that the three keys could be associated with. The walls, dark green wallpaper similar to the living room and adorned with pictures and bookcases offered clues; one of these was staring right back at them,

  “Look at this.” Said Jack, spotting one particular picture near the door. Upon closer examination they could see it was a military photograph, Bruenstein wasn’t amongst them but it was distinctive in appearance,

  “Look at the uniforms, regimental in style. Recognise them?” Asked John,

  “No.”

  “They are uniforms of the US Marines.” Stated John, “I recognise the design, but look at the flag in the background, see the design and colours?”

  “Yes I see. So Bruenstein was likely to have been in the US Marines prior to joining the CIA?” Asked Jack, it seemed only logical,

  “I would bet he was.” John replied.

  “That’s fine, but really I’m not interested in his history, only in where he is now. What about that other door? I wonder if there are any other clues to Bruenstein’s whereabouts in there?” Said Jack,

  “Let’s try it.”

  Exiting the room they paced down to the far end of the corridor approaching the second door. Trying like the one below, it was certainly locked, so therefore would definitely not budge. They tried the keys they procured downstairs, with two of them forming a matching set; the odd third silver key found on the mantelpiece was the one they tried first. Handing it to Jack, Hudson watched as he put it in the lock, it fitted perfectly, but would it turn? A quick glance behind them reassured him that were still alone while hearing a click told him that the key indeed fitted this lock. As the door slackened, both West and Hudson briefly hesitated, wondering what awaited them on the other side. There was only one way to find out.

  Chapter 14:

  Opening the door to find themselves in a rather spacious room, the function was quite clear, it was a study. Before venturing further both men surveyed what lay before them, the large writing desk beside the window was one of the more dominating features. The leather bound seat backed by flags situated in front of the large green curtained windows formed the focal point of the room. Directly in front of them a large wooden bookshelf covered the entire span of the far wall. The dark brown colour of the oak brought out the colours of the classic leather bound volumes that populated the shelves.

  West immediately made for the large desk. Taking out the small brown paper package he was initially carrying out of his jacket pocket he carefully placed it on the table top. His hands now free, he could have a look around the vicinity. Upon the desk there seemed at first glance to be nothing out of the ordinary, blotting paper, writing pens, all ordinary stationary. However placed just to the side was yet another key, gold in colour like the two they found downstairs but this time somehow different. He picked it up,

  “John, take a look at this.”

  “What’s that? What another key?”

  “Yes,” Jack replied, “But look, see the shape; it’s different, squarer than the others.”

  John quipped somewhat frustratingly at the amount of key they seemed to be finding,

  “So up to now we found a gold key in the kitchen, another gold key hidden in the ornament, a silver key used to gain entry to this room and now we have another one for god knows what. Are you sure we have found them all?”

  “Hopefully.” Jack replied. John standing next to his partner at the desk noticed the small brown package Jack placed there,

  “What’s that?” He asked tentatively. Jack immediately deflected the subject professionally like a politician by moving the investigation on further,

  “Let’s try and find what these keys are for, must be something hidden that is linked to Bruenstein.” He said while picking up the extra key. They split up; jack looked toward the bookcase while John moved toward a drinks cabinet accompanied by some plant pots on the near side wall. Again like in the opposite meeting room, pictures adorned the wall, this time not military in nature but more academic. Peering closer to ascertain the detail, he could see they were referring to a particular university in America,

  “University of Chicago.” He said to himself, noting the buildings in some off the photos, some were of groups, others of just college campuses, all were of Chicago. Backing off, John resumed his search, the cabinets all situated next to the walls as he walked round toward the wall opposite the desk. There was a freestanding bookcase, quite empty, certainly nowhere near as full as the one spanning the wall wher
e West was going through. Walking round it though seemed odd, something just did not feel right here; something that needed to be investigated. Putting his hand on the sides, John could feel the structure was slightly more unsteady that the other furniture, as if it was freestanding. Peering round the left hand side revealed a distinct if not thin gap between the back and the wall,

  “Take a look at this.” He called over to Jack,

  “What is it?”

  “Take a look, this cabinet is slightly away, do you see?” Replied John, West moved closer, there definitely something not right about it,

  “Come on, let’s pull it away, see if there’s anything behind.”

  The two men gripped the wooden bookcase and heaved it away. The lesser amount of books meant that it was lighter to shift. Pulling it out by one side, it revealed a small door with something attached to it,

  “Well,” Said John, “A secret room, but what’s that on the door?”

  “Looks like some kind of electronic lock.” Replied West. On the heavy silver door was an electronic panel; Jack noticed its complexity,

  “Quite sophisticated.” He said. Both men noted that there were three key lock’s on the lower side of the panel, but the centre one was of interest,

  “Look at that one,” Said West, “It’s square.”

  “That key from the desk over there…”

  “Exactly.” West took the chunky key from the table behind them and inserted it in the lock. The shape fitted perfectly, and it turned. The electronic lock suddenly came to life, two screens lit up along with a coloured numerical keypad of some sorts,

  “Here take one of these keys.” Said West as he handed one of the matching gold keys they found downstairs to his partner. John took it promptly in his hand,

  “Is it a simultaneous lock? You put one key in and I’ll put the other one and we turn it the same time.”

  West agreed, “Let’s do it.” Inserting the keys in at the same time both were poised to activate the mechanism,

  “Ready? 3…2…1…now!” He shouted as Jack and John turned the keys a quarter of a turn clockwise at the same time. It worked, both keys activated, signalled by the flickering of the screens and he quiet hum of the electronics inside, the keypad beeped in activation,

  “What now?” Asked John,

  “The keypad has to be the next step. But why is it in colours?”

  John thought back for a second, remembering the photos downstairs and in the other room, something triggered his memory,

  “The Marines!” He blurted out,

  “What?”

  “The photos downstairs! The Marines! What are their colours?”

  Jack thought for a second, “Dark blue and white.”

  John was not satisfied with that; lateral thinking got him suspecting it was something else,

  “No, no not the uniform colour, the regimental colours! The colours associated with the US Marines on that photograph downstairs…the flag on the photo of Bruenstein!”

  “Scarlett and gold.” West replied. Then it dawned on them, no more words were spoken as Jack immediately punched in the scarlet and golden keys on the keypad, it had to be these two. The pad beeped as he keyed in each colour, only beeping a total of three times once the second colour had been inputted,

  “What now?” West asked himself. There wasn’t time for Hudson to answer, the screens burst into life. One displayed a figure, four zeros; the other showed the number 30 on it. It was obvious the four zeros were where a four digit code had to be inserted, but what was it?

  “Oh crap!!” Said John, “It’s a countdown!! 30 seconds.”

  Panic began to set in as a beeping started, “How the hell are we supposed to find a code in 30 seconds?!!” Said West,

  “Don’t know, but this thing is probably alarmed or booby trapped if we don’t!!” The figure started to count down, 28 seconds left now,

  “Think! A four figure number.” Said West,

  “Oh that narrows it down!!” Replied Hudson, 25 seconds left, “Wait!! The US Marines!!”

  “What about the Marines?”

  “The photos on the walls!! Must relate to the US Marines somehow!! Think, err…oh God come on!! Think…history!! What year was they founded?”

  Jack couldn’t answer, 20 seconds left,

  “How the bloody hell do I know?”

  Instinctively John got his phone out and rapidly dialled Thames House,

  “It’s me…I need assistance, run a check on the US Marines, tell me the year they were founded…thanks.”

  West observed the timer, “15 seconds John.”

  John himself still on the phone, was still waiting for the answer as Jack became increasingly frustrated,

  “John I’m going to do it. I’m going to key in an American date; something significant…I know their independence, 1776.”

  “WAIT!!!” Shouted John putting his arm across Jack to stop him. The phone still glued to his ear…Yes OK coming through now!!”

  Jack looked up again, “5 seconds!! John, do it now!!!”

  “1775!! OK Cheers!!! Jack key in 1…7…7…5!!!!”

  Already on the case Jack’s finders raced across the key pad, 1…7…7…5. Suddenly stopping bleeping, with John still on the phone and looking up they could see the timer had frozen on 2 seconds,

  “Thanks.” Said John as he hung up. Both breathing a sigh of relief as they realised the lock had been broken,

  “A good job you know your history.” Commented a relieved West as the door which had by now become noticeably slackened. Cautiously they opened the door, not too wide, just enough to enter. Peering through, they were faced with a small box room lined with shelves and filled with papers, documents and files. Opening the door fully showed off the extent of the collection; Hudson entered first pausing in the middle of the room. West kept himself in the doorway, almost afraid to enter, his eyes darting round the room almost as if he was looking for something specific. John himself, also scanning around noticed something very peculiar, all the files, some encased in folders, others clipped together and of various sizes all had something in common,

  “All these dossiers, Jack they look familiar.” He said while reaching over to browse through a few random, ones, “Jack all these files seem to relate to MI5 movements past cases, personality traits, methodology, the lot.” He turned round to face his partner who was standing on the threshold motionless. The lack of body language he displayed was disturbing, but John probed further,

  “Why the hell are there classified intelligence files here?…Do you know something?…Come on Jack what’s the bloody connection?”

  Jack just stood there looking, but John was not going to budge, picking up more files he quickly began to see another pattern emerge,

  “Not only do these files track security agency movements but they…yes they…they’re relating to you!!”

  West still said nothing. Now he was beginning to act like a guilty party caught red-handed. With his suspicion fuelled, John had enough; he had been kept in the dark for too long. Slamming the file down he wanted answers,

  “Why all the bloody secrets Jack!!! What the hell is that package over there?!! What’s the deal with breaking Grey out of the prison?!!” Then is struck him, “You knew didn’t you? You bloody knew there were files here! What, is this some kind of setup or are you involved in something else we don’t know about?!!”

  West was still tight lipped. The guilt seemed to ooze from him but he wasn’t giving anything away

  “I’m struggling to get my head around this.” Said John as he turned away, noticing a small strongbox placed in the corner in doing so,

  “What’s this?.” He growled while bending down, he could see it wasn’t locked so he flung it open without angrily without any sort of hesitation. Inside was another, thicker file with bundles of paper inside a brown cover, standing up John opened it. What he saw struck him instantly,

  “These are personnel files, dossiers on all MI5 section staff, you,
me, Harvey, everyone within the section.” He could see they were clearly marked CIA and had Bruenstein’s name all over them. Turning round to face Jack the accusation was clear,

  “This is it isn’t it? This is what you really came here for, not to find Bruenstein, just to secure this! What’s going on Jack? Why is this so important that you want to steal it?!!”

  Not raising the tone to match Hudson’s, West replied in a calm but firm manner,

  “You don’t understand…”

  “Too right I don’t understand!! What the hell is going on!!”

  “We have to leave now…”

  John wasn’t going to take this lightly, “What do you mean leave? Now that I’ve found something out you want to sweep it under the carpet? Oh no, you aren’t getting away with that!! We are not leaving!!”

  Jack knew that the standoff wasn’t going to be solved by dialogue. He knew the clock was ticking, even if John didn’t. He decided to take action into his own hands,

  “Fine, stay here then, but I have to go.” He said as he turned away. He paced out of the room showing no hesitation at all, leaving Hudson in his wake,

  “Jack, come back here!!!” He shouted, but to no avail.

  The shining sun provided a refreshing atmosphere with the cool breeze that permeated through the air. West who by now had climbed back out of the kitchen window and had made his way onto the street; Pacing only a few yards before he heard footsteps behind him,

  “Jack what the hell is going on? I still want answers!! Jack!!”

  West did not stop to turn round. He knew it was John behind him, but that did not prevent him from putting as much distance between themselves and the building as possible. No matter how much John tried to catch up, Jack was still far ahead, it was almost as if he was leading away,

  “Jack!!….” He shouted, however he did not even get a chance to finish his sentence as he was cut off by a blinding flash. Momentarily flinching, John turned round to see what the hell it was just in time to come face to face with a huge explosion. A violent rush filled the vicinity as masonry and mortar flew through the air like shrapnel out of a fireball. A huge bang and the destructive sound of smashing glass accompanied the flying debris. West crouched in a reactionary movement; Hudson flung himself to the ground. As the larger bits settled leaving only the smaller, lighter crumbles flowing through the air like snow, did both men look upwards. Getting to their feet, the scene was clouded by the dirty white smoke of dust and explosives; the smell of burning was everywhere. Initially the scene was hazy, but was clearing slowly, the ringing in the ears of John disguised the true extent of the explosion, but things were becoming clearer. The entire first floor of the building they had only just been in had exploded, the front wall along with the large Georgian windows were gone, scattered all over the road, flames innocently licked out of the huge hole left over. As the muffling and ringing began to subside somewhat, John saw what was left on the street, car alarms blared out in synchronous unison as masonry and other hit and smashed the windscreens. Innocent people were caught in the blast, unacceptable collateral damage, John surveying the scene tried to make sense of what just occurred,

 

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