by Gary Tulley
For his role, Eastern had no immediate designs to market his own conclusions to Brezznov's rehearsed script, and elected to remain low key. To his mind the moment had become surreal. On the one hand, he'd now become privy to a high level of SP and therefore had a reason to be mindful of the fact. On the other hand, a sense of impending anxiety that the confident rant of a specialist international criminal, could become a reality."
His thoughts were jarred as Brezznov continued to milk their private space. "Flawed!? You mentioned the word flawed Aubrey, and there you have me. That word doesn't exist in my world, so this time I'll forget your dumb ignorance in choosing it. Instead, let me enlighten you with some extreme facts. About three years ago the 'scam' that we are about to embark on, started out as a seed of an idea. Since then, due to innovative planning, it has now enabled that idea to mature into a fool proof scheme. And a personal time for me to stamp retribution on an incorruptible system." Pausing, his face took on a fresh mask of calculated confidence, before continuing.
"So you see gentlemen, my time spent in the wilderness has proved to be a lesson in conviction, if you will excuse the pun. As you're all now fully aware, I haven't been idle and I can assure you all, here and now, that given the right co-operation, I will succeed on the sheer basis of audacity alone.....any questions so far?" Excluding himself from the offer, Eastern averted his gaze towards Millington, anticipating a reaction to his earlier logic. He wasn't about to be disappointed as a fired-up Millington took it into his head to walk a verbal line, bordering on allegiance and self- belief, when contesting Brezznov's claim to superiority.
"Up to this point Victor, I still hold overall reservations. I'm not totally convinced that the 'scam' is workable. The case that you are making looks far too gift-wrapped for my liking, and that's what bothers me. You've forgotten to mention the key aspect of how you intend to gain entry into the proposed banking facility you might have in mind. From a positive approach, I would like to think that your definition of co-operation stems from my view, that without the use of a 'bent' security guard on the payroll, the heist would prove to be a disaster. What then started out in life as a forced smile, swiftly dissolved into a defiant leer as Brezznov sought to exploit his own version.
"Facts! you want fucking facts? I'll go one better than that my friend, and hand you out a lesson in reality, by making you mindful of the fact, that subject to the bloody Stock Market going belly up in the coming fortnight, my designated target along with it's internal security, will be in a state of open house. Putting it mildly gentlemen, we will be in business holding a franchise monopoly on nominated accounts and stocks." He stopped off briefly before delivering a hidden and explicable coup de grace. "Or putting it another way, ensuring that other interested investors will be out of business in the process!"
"And the Target itself?" Millington questioned, "When do we get to."
"....you don't!" interrupted Brezznov sharply on a pre-assumption, "that is until forty eight hours before we make our move, then, and only then, then will you all be made aware of out intended target. In the meantime I suggest to you that this meeting never happened,and basically you need to chill out until such time that I contact you again." As before, the astute look on his face, portrayed the epitome of confidence as he left them reflecting on a verbal afterthought. "I can assure you that every minute spent in waiting will be more than compensated. And comes with my own personal guarantee."
If Brezznov's prophecy was intended to make Eastern feel that an illicit monetory injection could ease his timing, then he couldn't have been further from the truth, as he explained his mounting frustration to Rogon later on that day, after contacting him at Spooks H.Q. "Believe me when I say that the man is a fucking island of intrigue, should you feel the need to discuss bleedin' mind games!"
"On that basis," concluded Rogon, "I can only assume that you haven't any fresh detailed SP as such, enabling us to move forward" Shaking his head negatively, Eastern then went on to explain that Brezznov's cat and mouse approach toward the alleged heist, had virtually wiped out every chance of putting into place, any contingency planning.
"At best," he explained, "we have a time span of about forty eight putting into a place, a preventive task force. Having said that, if Brezznov chooses to keep the location under wraps until the eleventh hour, there's every reason to suggest that his strategy, could possibly leave us up a blind alley chasing shadows."
"Damn! That means pretty much anywhere in the City," concluded Rogon. And went on, "To say the man is an enigma, would be letting him down lightly. He's obviously learnt from his past mistakes . It seems that from what you've managed to glean so far, Mike, that even he has to move with the times. I refer of course to the elaborate and sophisticated method of criminality he now chooses to employ. Nodding with intent, Eastern was adamant as he replied, "Yeah, it's ironic when you stop to analyse the facts, because in retrospect you could say that the establishment have shot themselves in the foot."
"I'm sorry, I don't follow you," a bemused Rogon questioned.
"Simply by putting him out of circulation for a lengthy period, I figure that the time he's spent, from his point of view, hasn't been wasted. All it's done is to give the man a lifeline in which to further his egotistic career.” Their short and unproductive conversation then ground to a halt. As an afterthought, Eastern was quick to assure Rogon that his covert position had in no way been jeopardized, and that any future contact would remain in situ.
CHAPTER 7...The wilderness syndrome.
The following forty eight hours proved to be a war of nerves for Eastern, as a frustrating air of expectancy hung over him, akin to a pregnant rain cloud waiting to unload. As a selfish contrast, the rare privilege issuing from an unrehearsed moment of clemency to acquire a form of sleep, never seemed to realize it's potential. Eastern awoke with a start. Almost immediately he instinctively became aware that there was a certain infinity about the ring tone on his mobile. One swift glance was enough to convince him that his gut hadn't lost it's flair. Robotically he made the connection.
"Alex?"
"Speaking." Relief masked his face. "What's occurring, Victor?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out, Alex, my friend, but that comes later." Brezznov replied guardedly." A minute into their conversation and already Eastern found himself having to bite the bullet, as Brezznov's exclusive controlling attitude seconded him into playing the running man. A patronising stance seemed to be the way forward.
"That being the case, Victor, I presume my services are at your disposal. When do you envisage us getting together as a 'firm'?" Brezznov was quick to validate Eastern's obvious need for action.
"Your impatience precedes you Alex. And in time will be financially recognised. In the meantime I've arranged for a cab to pick you up at seven thirty tonight, and drop you off at a specific address, prior to meeting up later in the evening." Without hesitating, Eastern fired back in the likelihood he might catch Brezznov off guard.
"Out of interest, do I get to know the drop-off point Victor?" The latter remained unmoved by rejecting his probing enquiry out of sight in a brusque manner.
"As far as you're concerned, that's between the driver and myself Alex, due to an added security issue. I'm sure you understand?" Reproaching himself, Eastern felt his reply held an underlying and personable ring attachment to it, and readily decided that under the circumstances he needed to curtail the subject. By default, he was now reconciled to being on the outside looking in. A fresh approach to gain a foothold of trust and solidarity would be essential., even when surrounded by people
For his part, his nemesis stood alone, basking in the glory that he was a self-made control freak who epitomized the term 'user' when dealing with individuals. Eastern's own version was not to be denied, as certain characteristics gate-crashed his take on survival. "Without question the guy is one evil bastard, reveling in a two-edged psychopathic attitude," but not before Brezznov had rubber stamped his cred
entials.
"I take it you don't have a problem with my strategy then Alex?" he enquired. Briefly, Eastern found himself wanting for a reply as he allowed his brain to dissolve the content of his inner thoughts.
"On the contrary Victor, I tend to dismiss the word 'problem' in exchange for one that's positive. Besides, who am I to argue? I'll leave that to my cut in the deal, to do the talking for me." Having been subjected to lying through his teeth in the face of adversity, now became a bitter pill to swallow. The white flesh exposed on his knuckles showed through like organ stops, as he fought to suppress a bout of controlled anger. Brezznov meanwhile continued to wallow in his illicit ideals.
"It's important that you think that way Alex. Because you will soon realize that the stakes surrounding this heist succeeding, are higher than you could possibly ever imagine. And I've no intention of coming in second again. Complacency is for fucking mugs! I allowed myself into becoming vulnerable once, and it cost me twelve fucking years of my life.....not that I wasted the time that was coming to me," he was quick to point out. "So for that reason alone, the operation will not fail. By the time this mission is over I will have brought the financial World down onto its poxy knees."
If Brezznov had purposefully set out on a grief trip, then he was doing a good job of seriously pissing Eastern off. As far as he was concerned their conversation had run its course. Inwardly he cursed the world at large, and placed Rogon at the top of his stockpile for playing the cheap role of an inveigler. And in return forcing him self to pay homage once again. "So much for my bleedin' CV," he chided. Having regained his composure, he retraced his thoughts back, which centered on, Brezznov's latest omission. "At least he's confirmed the fact that his illicit intentions lay in the form of a monetory 'scam'. The worst way, it puts the agency on the ladder, even if we can't see the top rung.
"Hello! You still there Alex?" For a split second he was forced to withdraw any further notions he may have held, as the relentless pursuit of Brezznov's intimidating voice ambushed his space.
"Yeah, just for a minute Victor I found myself wrapped up in your scheme of things. Now I can see where you're coming from in terms of commitment. The spin off from a heist that magnitude is mind-boggling. In comparison, it makes the word 'ransom' sound like a poxy vicar's tea party." By putting personalities aside it made sense to go with the flow, in the realization that a loose snippet of SP could become a reality. Their conversation then gathered momentum as Eastern ceased validating his views . And leaving his nemesis to continue echoing his own take on the intended heist.
"The secret of success in this case hinges on the timing, and I'm as hungry as the next guy." he declared. "But in the end, it's all down to patience and I'm a past master at that, thanks again to my 'previous'." (record). Switching his thoughts, he paused briefly to allow a secondary motive to surface. "That aside, it's not all about dividends Alex, as from now it starts to get personal...know what I mean?" For once, Eastern became stymied for an answer, in the knowledge that the system had inadvertently handed Brezznov poetic licence to carve out his game plan.
His own position as a rank outsider then swung into contention, causing him to readdress the strength of the volatile danger that he'd elected to undergo. It was then left to Rogon to once again accept the brunt of his current situation by proxy. "If I come out of this wearing a garland of shit you pathetic Whitehall android, then trust me when I say you'd better focus on an early retirement." he told himself meaningfully. Typically, he swiftly adjusted his thoughts in replying to Brezznov's initial position regarding a 'personal syndrome'. "I can well sympathise with you Victor on that count. I mean, a twelve year stretch fucking banged up in a Government health farm. You're going to feel well pissed off...and personal!? That's got to be an understatement." Brezznov lost no time in concurring.
"You know and I know that they eventually mess with you poxy head. You've done the time and now that you're back on the outside you realize it's all a one-sided fucking game! Trouble is, as you know, it doesn't end at that. The bastards just don't know when to let go do they?"
"You're only saying what I'm thinking already." replied Eastern, "But yeah, go on."
"Since being released, the 'Bill' (police) have been on my case 24/7. I can't even have a shit without them knowing an hour later.. Know what I mean?"
"Sure! You and me both. The system has an ongoing PDH in grief. Dealing with it while remaining legal takes consideration, but as I say we've both inherited the same shit of course. Results! It's all about fucking results. They can't wait to see you crack. Remember, they have all the time in the world, and the resources, which is why I like your stand on patience and security."
"You've got a good head piece working for you Alex and you're double smart with it. As I've said before, having a 'face' like you around is a bonus." A controlled and sustained silence came into play as Eastern deliberately held back. Hopefully to allow his nemesis time digest his patronising observations, including the off-chance that he might be cajoled into confiding in him. Alternatively, had he ridden his luck too far when attempting to appease Brezznov by coming in through the back door? In the event, the latter quickly put him out of his misery in a clinical manner. "There's also something else you need to take into account, and that is my staunch independence. I've always been my own man. If you're in business I find that two people sharing the same ideals can be dangerous. So as from now, you'd better get used to the idea that I give the orders....understand!? Oh, and while wer'e at it there is one other thing that bothers me slightly. I can't figure out how come a smart guy with your credentials allows himself to take a fall like you did? You're nobody's patsy that's for sure. Could be that I don't know you as well as I thought I did."
Out of mind and out of sight allowed Eastern to smother his restless body language, as Brezznov's one-on-one character assassination drove a wedge between his personal opinions and reality. He had been forewarned in no uncertain terms, subsequently leaving him rattled. True, their relationship was always going to be strained full stop. But now this latest verbal revelation had literally pulled the carpet out from under his feet. From now on he would be resigned to walking on egg-shells in his approach. Moments later, to make matters worse. Brezznov, for reasons of his own, chose to abort their conversation sine die leaving Eastern hung out to dry.
As a means of compensation, he let it be known that, "I'll be off the 'manor' for a short while, on business, before I get to contact you again. In the meantime I need you to make some enquiries regarding a set of 'bent wheels' (stolen car). You know the score. Incidentally, this number will become obsolete by tomorrow." He then hung up, leaving a stone-faced Eastern to dwell on what might have been. A short while later that same evening, he contacted Rogon at HQ and arranged a 'meet' for the following day re: an update.
CHAPTER 8...Horses for courses.
Having downed his token cup of coffee, Eastern shuddered involuntarily followed by his carte blanche opinion to express his obvious distaste. "Hell, Rogon! Those coffee grounds taste like a by-product left over from the cold war. Either that, or you've got a guerrilla posing as one of the kitchen staff. Besides which, I can't see those bloody playboys over at MI5 standing for this crap!" Rogon appeared unmoved by Easter's blistering attack on the in house-catering. Instead, it was left to his regimented absence of humour to be found wanting in reply.
"The last agent who complained about it, found himself shipped off to a Lithuanian outpost for three years. And just in case you've forgotten, Mike, I'll remind you that this room is 'bugged'. Now, if you don't mind, can we proceed with the Government business in hand? More importantly, I have to tell you that Whitehall are leaning on me for SP, and the PM himself has taken a personal interest in this brief, due to the enormity of Brezznov's alleged banking coup."
Eastern remained unrepentant as he opened up, in knowing that besides the agency he would also be dealing with an officious third party to answer to. "Interest!? Utter bollocks and you know i
t, Rogon. Assuming that Spooks get a result, the PM will come out through the bloody back door on a gilt-edged vote winner, using my neck as the combination." And added, "From what I've heard, the guy's a diplomatic power- mad asshole!" For the time being, their addled conversation became temporarily shelved as Eastern's recent counterpart Spook 'B' entered the room.
"My apologies for running late gentlemen. I've since been engaged into breaking in a .44 Magnum Blackhawk Beretta on the range. I'd hate to think that I've missed something of importance. If I have, I'm sure you'll get me up to speed." Eastern rose and extended his hand for Simmons (nee 'B') to shake.
"So, we meet again my friend and, no, you haven't missed anything..." He paused as a wry smile creased his face, "Except to say, what more can you express about a moron that everybody already knows about? And consciously averted his gaze toward an uncomfortable looking Rogon. Together, they exchanged small talk for a few minutes, but not before a jaded Rogon wielded his superior authority.
"Gentlemen...if you don't mind, let's not forget what we are here for, there will be ample time for free talk later." Rogon then drew Eastern's attention aside to justify Simmons future role within the agency's strategy. "As of now Mike, 'B', you'll be pleased to know, has been reassigned to your brief indefinitely. His role of course will remain as a covert position by working in your shadow per se. Is that understood? Available as always should you require back up. I would expect you to liaison periodically dependent on your circumstance at any one time, understood? The minute you suspect that Brezznov is ready to make a move I."
His tactical thinking was quashed as Eastern cut him short. "Before you commit yourself, I suspect that we could be in for a long wait, I'm afraid. The way things are shaping up at present, Brezznov is reluctant to put his bleedin' foot out of the door!"