Codename Files Nos.1, 2 & 3

by Mark Arundel

  He mumbled, ‘What’s happening?’

  I said, ‘Put your seatbelt on.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘...because we’re probably going to crash.’

  Geoffrey pulled his seat up and slotted in his seatbelt catch. He stared through the windscreen and asked, ‘Why are you driving so fast with the lights off?’

  I was approaching a fork in the road and was concentrating on making the right decision, so I didn’t answer. After a second or two of consideration and with his head clearing of sleep, Geoffrey spun in his seat and saw the police car with its flashing blue lights chasing us.

  I wondered why they hadn’t put their siren on but I wasn’t complaining. I figured there were no other vehicles about to get in their way and they probably didn’t want to wake the law-abiding citizens of their tourist town unnecessarily.

  In answer to his own question, Geoffrey said, ‘Oh,’ and then sat very still and gripped the armrest tightly.

  I chose to leave the straight road and dodge right in an attempt to lose them. At the last moment, I crushed the brake pedal and yanked the wheel. The car must have been getting used to my driving because it dipped low and then levelled without sliding. We entered a narrow road with parked cars on both sides. It ran straight for a short distance before disappearing into a sharp left-hander. I squashed the accelerator pedal in second and raced up to over fifty-five miles an hour. I checked the mirror again; the police car was dropping back. I braked for the corner and then turned in as fast as I dared. The road was tight between the parked cars. As the bend straightened, I saw it. On the other side of a small traffic island, stopped in the road, blocking our way was a large dustbin van. Its amber light circled brightly and two young men pulled and loaded the industrial-sized public bins onto the back enabling the hydraulic tipper to lift and empty them. I braked to a stop and searched for an escape. There wasn’t one. I could see the glow from the blue flashing light in my mirror as the police car neared the bend behind us.

  Geoffrey shouted, ‘There!’ He pointed with his hand. I looked in the direction of his finger. He was pointing at the sculpture in the centre of the traffic island. It was another metal figure of some sort. I craned my neck to look behind it and there, just as Geoffrey had said, was our escape route. From his angle of sight, he could see it. Just this side of the dustbin van was a gap between the parked cars that was wide enough. I raced around the sculpture and flew past one of the dustmen nearly running over his boots. He gestured with his arm and swore loudly in Spanish. The silver saloon fitted neatly through the gap between the parked cars and then dropped blindly into a steep access road. It was dark and without my lights on, I struggled to see. I braked and slowed while I searched for an exit. As my eyes adjusted and I saw the ocean beyond the railings and the black, jagged rocks I realised the road was a dead-end.

  I said to Geoffrey, ‘Grab your bag and my rucksack.’

  I let the car roll on its brakes while I calmly searched. A black opening to my right beyond a lighter coloured concrete block wall gave me hope. I eased the brake and let the car roll faster. Yes, it was an entrance. I turned and accelerated in. The car bumped heavily on the ramp and then we were inside. It was a car park under a building. I raced to the far side and stopped in a parking bay behind a wall.

  ‘We’re going to have to run for it,’ I said.

  Geoffrey already had hold of the two bags. I grabbed the rucksack from him and we both jumped out. The police car hadn’t found us yet. There was a pedestrian exit in the sidewall. I pointed and said, ‘That way.’ It led us to a flight of steps, which took us outside and onto a path with a fence that overlooked the ocean. I heard the water against the rocks and I looked out across the blackness. I focused back on the pathway. ‘Let’s go—faster!’ I pushed Geoffrey to get him going and we ran. The winding path tracked along the rocks with the ocean beside us; we moved north and the giant cliffs loomed ahead like prehistoric skyscrapers. I kept checking behind us but I heard and saw nothing. If they were following, they were still a long way back.

  Geoffrey whispered hoarsely, ‘Where are we going?’ He was tiring already.

  ‘Don’t slow down,’ I said. ‘Keep going.’

  The local police always know their own patch. I should have known but I realised it too late.

  The pathway had dropped lower and on our right-hand side appeared a high wall of solid stone. Behind the wall, cut into the cliff was a road, which ran parallel to the path. I didn’t know it was there until I heard the engine and saw the lights. One of the lights was blue. It was the police car.

  I pulled Geoffrey by the arm and he stopped running. He puffed out the words, ‘What’s wrong?’ Then he saw the blue flashing light as the police car drove past us. His breathing started to ease and he said, ‘They’ve found us.’

  I stared into the distant night and could just make out where the pathway rose up and joined with the road. I knew they would stop there and either wait or come down the path after us. I was still considering our options when I heard it. It was the unmistakable sound of running feet on the pathway behind us. It was then that I realised what they had done. One of the policemen had driven the car to the end of the path while the other had followed us on foot. Now, they had us trapped between them. It was a pincer movement to make the Generalissimo proud. Geoffrey heard the running feet and whispered, ‘Listen, someone’s coming.’

  I didn’t have much time. I had to make a quick decision. A short distance further, the path disappeared around the wall. I pushed Geoffrey, pointed and said, ‘Let’s get round there.’

  It was a good angle from which to make a surprise attack. I listened to the thump, thump of the running feet as the man came closer. My plan was simple. I was going to use the man’s own momentum against him. It was essential for me to be sure of my timing. I pushed Geoffrey back against the wall and told him to stay. I stood back from the corner, hidden by the wall and waited. The man was close. I could hear his breathing. As he appeared, running at a fast speed I first noticed his police uniform and then I struck. I turned myself into a human bowling ball and the policeman was my skittle. I tumbled with the force of a rolling barrel and timed it so my shoulder and back struck the man’s legs. He flew like a surfer taking a wipe-out. As he crashed to the ground, I was already up and on him. Dazed, he raised his head and turned to look presenting me with the perfect target. I was short on time and low on patience. It may have been unsophisticated but it was highly effective. I landed a full kick to his jaw line. His head snapped across, his eyes went out and he crumpled like a crash test dummy driving a Wartburg.

  I checked him. The young policeman was out cold. I took his gun from its holster. Geoffrey had walked over, so I put the gun in the satchel, which he had around his neck, of course. The satchel was beginning to fill up with firepower; soon we would be able to open our own gun shop.

  Geoffrey asked, ‘Will he be all right?’

  I didn’t answer. I was already thinking about the second policeman. I hurriedly checked the unconscious man. His jaw didn’t seem broken and he was breathing regularly. I left him and pushed Geoffrey over against the wall. I said to him, ‘There’s still the second policeman. The one in the car; he’s waiting for us at the end of the path.’

  Geoffrey looked anxious. ‘Oh, yes,’ he whispered. ‘What shall we do?’

  ‘It’s all right I have a plan.’

  We carefully and quickly moved along the path to a spot where I was happy to leave Geoffrey, and then I climbed the wall. It was easy using the spaces between the dry stones as hand and toeholds. I pulled myself on top and held a squat position while I listened and searched. The road was quiet and dimly lit by widely spaced yellow streetlamps. I crossed and took cover between a white van in a row of four parked cars and a rough wall made of breezeblocks that were supporting a field of banana plants. I listened again but I heard nothing. I moved off with careful speed and hugged the breezeblock wall. I spotted the police car and stopped. I liste
ned; the engine was ticking over. The lights shone like beacons and the driver’s door was wide open. The second policeman was out of the vehicle. I ducked back across the road and took cover behind the wall. I edged silently closer. He was standing in the open at the end of the wall staring down the pathway into the blackness. He was watching and waiting. As he was older and heavier, his younger partner did the running. I moved closer keeping below the wall, which was now only four feet high. I retrieved the two palm-sized rocks from my pocket that I had chosen earlier from the path and threw the first one out over the pathway so it fell into the ocean. The splash carried in the stillness. The policeman heard it and moved a few paces down the path. Then I threw the second rock. It splashed again and he reacted just how I wanted. He moved again, further down the path and over towards the water. I moved with silent speed just as I had many times as a soldier. I was up and over the wall in a second, landing softly and travelling at speed. Half a dozen strides carried me to him. Still gazing into the dark water, he was unaware of any danger. If I had still been a soldier on a mission, he would have been dead. I would have put one hand on his lower face and used the other to guide a blade across his throat severing his windpipe leading to a silent death a second later. This man, however, was lucky. As I had decided earlier, I wasn’t going to leave dead policemen lying about the place. We were getting enough attention as it was. Instead of a blade, I used the butt of the Glock and hit him hard on the crown of his skull. He staggered, moaned and raised his hand to his head. I pulled his arm out of the way and hit him again. He grunted as the air left his lungs and he dropped heavily. After tonight, neither of these two local coppers would be on their beat for a while.

  I straightened with the Glock still in my hand, walked a couple of paces as I gathered my thoughts and prepared to fetch Geoffrey. It was then that the realisation of what I had seen came to me. With my concentration fixed on the second police officer, I had not taken it in before. The parked white van that I had walked past back on the road. Written on the side were the words: Primera de Seguridad. It was the same white security van from earlier.

  Fear struck me like an icy chill. It ran down my spine like the fingers of Medusa. My reactions instantly heightened. The anticipation of danger was immediate and I felt the presence of a deadly threat. My combat senses pulsed like radar. As I spun, my finger instinctively found the trigger. I dropped to make myself smaller and raised the Glock as I completed the turn. I saw a dark figure at the end of the pathway. It was Xing. Her arms moved and her head settled. Pointing straight at me was a rifle. All those hours and hours of training as a soldier took over. Instinctively, in that same moment, I levelled, aimed and fired. The Glock kicked in my hands and the explosion must have been loud but I didn’t hear it. Instead, all I heard was the bullet strike metal and saw the rifle fly and drop from Xing’s grasp. She stumbled backwards. I reset myself to fire again. Xing didn’t hesitate; she recovered and fled before I could shoot for the second time. She knew her chance had gone. She had been lucky. We had both been lucky. It should have ended with one of us dead. Instead, we would both live to fight again.

  I ran after her; up to the end of the path. I kept low and searched the road but she had disappeared. I listened but there was no sound. If she was running, her feet were silent. Perhaps that was probably a kung fu thing. I picked up her rifle from where it had fallen and then I ran cautiously to the parked white van but she hadn’t returned to it. I quickly searched it but there was nothing.

  I went back to the wall, climbed over and back down onto the path. I found Geoffrey waiting where I had left him. His face was ashen with concern. He said, ‘I heard a gunshot. What happened; did you shoot the policeman?’

  ‘No, I didn’t shoot him. We have to move quickly. Come on, let’s go.’

  Geoffrey asked, ‘Where did you get that?’ He pointed at the rifle.

  I’ll explain later. We have to move right now. Come on.’

  I slung the rifle over my shoulder and put the rucksack on over the top. I pushed Geoffrey and we made our way to the end of the path. I was concerned Xing might be waiting for us. She might be hidden and ready with an ambush. I stopped by the wall with Geoffrey covered by my body and listened. It was silent except for the running engine of the police car.

  I wondered how Xing had found us again so quickly. She couldn’t have followed us. I had checked and anyway when we raced the police car the white van was nowhere. So how had she done it? The only answer I could come up with was that when she had been behind the silver saloon back in the estate of villas she had planted a tracker. It was insurance in case she needed to find the car again later. I realised Xing was clever and extremely professional. This knowledge did not fill me with cheerfulness.

  I returned to our immediate problem. I had to find somewhere safe for us to hide until breakfast time and we had to get there without having another encounter with Xing or the police or any of the other many people who seemed to be looking for us. I came up with a place to hide but I didn’t like the idea of walking there. If Xing had not shown up I would not have taken it but under the circumstances, it was a necessary risk. I had decided to borrow the police car.

  I said softly to Geoffrey, ‘We’re going to take the police car. When I say, I want you to run with me to the car and get in as quickly as you can. Do you understand?’

  He replied in a whisper, ‘Yes.’

  The police car was close. I checked again and was satisfied it was clear. I put a hand on Geoffrey’s arm and with the Glock in my other I said, ‘Let’s go.’

  We ran out from the cover of the wall and reached the car. I opened the passenger door for Geoffrey. With his satchel around his neck, he stumbled inside. I ran around to the open driver’s door, threw in my rucksack and the rifle, keeping the Glock in my hand, and jumped in pulling shut the door in the same movement. It was only then that I realised Xing was in the back seat.

  Chapter 18

  A commonly accepted truth is that defence is much harder than playing as the declarer because defenders have much less information.

  For an instant, I thought it was over, but then I realised Xing was curled up like a child. It was hard to see her. She was dressed in black and her loosely tied black hair was covering most of her face. It must have been the sound of her breathing. It was that that had made me look. She seemed to be unconscious. She was still and her body limp.

  I said to Geoffrey, ‘Stay there.’

  I jumped out of the car, opened the back door and climbed in. I held the Glock out in front of me just in case, but as soon as I got close and touched her I knew she wasn’t faking. I felt her wet, sticky blood, and I knew she was injured.

  Her black rucksack was on the floor beside her and I picked it up and handed it to Geoffrey who had turned around and was staring with a look of puzzlement. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘Open this and tell me what it contains,’ I said. He took the rucksack and did as I asked while I examined Xing.

  I found a bullet wound in her lower abdomen. It was on her right side above her pelvic bone. The bullet from my gunshot must have ricocheted off the rifle and gone into her. From experience, I knew ricochets often lost much of their momentum. It was likely the bullet remained embedded in her flesh. From my rough knowledge of anatomy, I didn’t think there was damage to any of her organs. The dark puncture wound was oozing blood. I had had medical training, but my knowledge was still only that of a combat soldier. It was easy, though, to recognise a state of physiological collapse. Xing’s pulse was weak; her skin was cold and her breathing irregular. She was in shock resulting from the trauma and blood loss.

  Realising she was hit and weakening rapidly, like a wounded animal, she must have instinctively gone to ground. The police car was her only possible hiding place. Once inside, she had climbed onto the back seat and passed out.

  Now, the dilemma of what to do with her faced me.

  Geoffrey broke my thoughts. ‘Look, she has three passports: a Brit
ish one, a Spanish one, and one from Hong Kong. She also has a lot of money,’ he said holding up banded wads of cash in different currencies. There must have been many thousands of each of the currencies.

  I was still considering my options and they were narrowing rapidly. I remembered Charlotte’s words: did you kill her…then she will try again. It was looking like a bullet to the head, and then dumping her body in the ocean to delay its discovery. I still had the Glock in my hand. I moved her thick hair with my fingers and studied her face in the gloom. Her closed eyes didn’t flicker. There was sweat on her forehead and upper lip. She looked like a sick child home from school.

  Geoffrey said, ‘She’s got a phone and what looks like some kind of tracking receiver.’

  I wasn’t really listening. My focus was on Xing. Perhaps some of the distresses that had led me into the army were the same distresses that had led her along the path to contract-killing. Very narrow lines can divide the forces that predetermine a life. I pushed the barrel of the Glock through her thick hair until it pressed against the base of her skull.

  Geoffrey was still talking and said, ‘The call history on her phone is interesting.’ He was studying the phone’s illuminated screen while tapping the buttons. ‘She’s received five calls in the past twenty-four hours and they are all from the same number. It’s a central London number.’

  Central London. Geoffrey’s words registered in my head and I stopped.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, look.’

  He held the phone up between the seats so I could see. He was right. Someone had been calling her from central London. That could mean she had information on the traitor, which could be useful in helping Charlotte make the future safe for Geoffrey. I pulled the Glock away from her head. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it but I had a reason to keep Xing alive.