Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

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Tim Heath Thriller Boxset Page 47

by Tim Heath


  “Oh please, I’m a man of my word. If you left me here, I would give you back your parents.”

  “Your word means nothing to me. I have a job to do!”

  “You’re a foolish man, and you know that, Robert. Why don’t you think about what you want for a change? There is no job, and there is no winning. What are you going to be able to do even if you could catch me? Who can you take me to? I’m not wanted anymore in your time if you remember.”

  “In my time? You talk as if you don’t belong there as well.”

  “I don’t! I'm home now, and this is my life, can’t you see that?”

  “It’s the life you took from others, that’s all. You’ve left nothing but mess, death and destruction in your wake as you’ve played your little games.”

  “But it can’t be undone. This is now the reality, Robert. You make it sound like I’m over-typing some later chapters and yet now there are no later chapters. There are only new chapters yet to be written.”

  “And yet we both know that we can go back to a place that is very real and changing all the time because of what you are doing here now.”

  “That means nothing to me, and I care very little for that place. This is my home and my life.”

  “Of course it is. You were nobody there except a murdering thief!”

  “Please, let’s not get nasty.”

  Robert thought that was rich coming from the man who had moments before talked about him as an enemy and saying he would destroy thousands of homes to get Robert or the Door. But Robert wouldn't let his emotion show, surprising himself at how calmly he was now speaking.

  “I bet you don’t even know how it works, do you?” Robert said, himself changing the subject now.

  “And you do I suppose! Look, we all drive around increasingly complicated computer-controlled cars and yet none of us has the slightest idea how they work. We use technology every day that we don’t even question, but all we care about is how to use it. You don’t need to know how to build a computer to just use one. So no, of course, I don’t understand fully how the Door works but I know it does, and I know how to use it, and that’s all I need to know. And I got the first door working which means I’m always ahead of you.”

  “But here, now, we are in the same field of play. You have no great advantage on me here.”

  “Apart from the twenty years that I’ve had to set up teams of people to do whatever I ask them. Or the military and security forces who would drop a bomb without the need for any government clearance. Not to mention the foreign countries allied with just me and happy to assist an attack on the UK with weapons that I’ve sold to them.”

  That little outburst gave Robert another insight into the man’s thinking. There was nothing that he seemingly hadn’t considered in his effort to stay free, to remain alive. Aware of how long he’d been talking and not wanting to give away his location, Robert decided to leave Nigel with something that Robert hoped would unsettle him before hanging up.

  “That’s very interesting to hear you talk about your country like that. But I must correct you on something you said before. Who said your Door was the first one, anyway?”

  The line went dead as Nigel started to reply, initially not taking seriously the empty threat he thought he’d just heard. But then, fear began to creep in on Nigel. What did Robert mean by that? he thought to himself. It seemed impossible that there could be another Door because the two that he knew about had been the crowning achievements of long scientific careers.

  But it was the way Robert had so plainly said it as if he knew something Nigel didn’t, that put him into a hot sweat. The thought that there could be more than two Doors was horrendous enough, let alone the thought that any such Door might be even earlier than his. No, the possibility was just too shocking even to contemplate, but if such a thing did exist, Nigel now knew that he would have to find it first and obliterate it for fear that it would, in fact, destroy him.

  Brendan had been in the office for some time and had thought all day about what Robert had said to him the previous day. Wanting some fresh air, he went out as always to the small park next to the office and walked around happily, thinking, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows as it was warm and sunny.

  People walked around slowly together, the kind of simple life that Brendan often wished he could have, spending more time with his wife and children without all the frustrations that had dogged his life for so long.

  And yet there was so much to the character that was Robert Sandle that Brendan knew he had to take him seriously. He’d seen first hand the man’s ability to remain hidden, from that first moment he’d spotted him at the back of the crowd of journalists at that press conference, to the way his team of guys hadn’t turned up anything in the search for him since. It was as if the man had just turned up from nowhere, appearing without any apparent history, no shadows or footprints left behind that would help them find him.

  He was a mystical figure therefore in Brendan’s eyes, a man that offered answers to questions that he’d thought impossible to ask. He didn’t feel in any way a traitor concerning his relationship with Nigel now, more as if he was doing the right thing at last against a man who had done so much wrong and had made Brendan's own hands dirty with people’s blood in the process by carrying out Nigel's orders. Though late in his life, having lost so many years already, Brendan knew more than ever the empowerment that came from the thought of teaming up with Robert, this almost invisible person, to bring an end to the man who was Nigel Gamble.

  And the hole that would be left by such a man’s downfall, Brendan would be only too happy to fill, having been very much the right-hand man in all the business dealings anyway. He had been the contact through the years, and it would be easy just to pick up the reins and carry on.

  Brendan walked back to the office a contented man, feeling alive again with the turn things had taken, only too aware of how careful he now had to be not to give anything away, having no idea of the extent of control that Nigel had on his everyday life.

  Nigel lay in bed late that night unable to sleep, those last words of Robert now eating into his soul like poison. He’d been trying to sleep for nearly two hours and got up restlessly, walking over to a drinks cabinet and pouring himself a very large whisky. Nigel walked over to the window. In the distance through the pitch-black, he could see the torchlight of the various security personnel as they walked around the perimeter, outside of the wire fence way beyond his private walled garden. Beyond those guards in the adjoining field out of sight at that time of night was his own private runway, two small planes in the open and his jet in the hangar. The aircrew was not around at the moment, making themselves available whenever he required them, spending the rest of their time doing air tours over the city for tourists from a business operating in a town thirty miles away. They could be summoned and on-site within about twenty minutes, but usually, Nigel would notify them that he required their services with far more notice.

  It was only now, at that late hour of the day with his drink in his hand as he stood and looked out over his estate, most of it hidden by the darkness, that he thought about having to give it all up, and the thought made him sick inside. But it all made sense really if he wanted to stay hidden. There were other places he could go, other countries that in time would become home. Most of his wealth was of course wholly liquid and could go wherever he went.

  And so the thought and conviction started to grow––he needed to move on and move on quickly. Once gone from the shores of England, there were several possibilities that he had open to him, and he drew a strange satisfaction from these thoughts as he sat down in his rocking chair, taking the occasional gulp of drink until it was empty. Not long after that he was sound asleep.

  23

  The roads were quite clear at that time of the morning, and Robert was enjoying the prospect of finally meeting to talk with Brendan. It was his first run into the city since he’d gone to lie low for a while, having needed th
ings to cool down a little. And while it was still a risk, some of the leading players had since changed sides which surely would make things a whole lot easier.

  He wasn’t going to take any unnecessary risks that day and changed his appearance as much as possible, wearing baggy, loose-fitting clothes and a cap to top it off. It was in fact quite a transformation from his usual smart fitted wardrobe. Bearing in mind that the only photo circulating, as far as he knew, on all those wanted posters, was not a very good likeness, he felt it was safe to assume that no one would think the two faces were indeed the same person that morning.

  For the first hour of the morning, he hadn’t seen a single vehicle as he completed the rural section of the journey before hitting the more built-up areas and the traffic that always accompanies them.

  Robert had settled on a busy and noisy shopping area for his first meeting with Brendan, and he felt it would work on many levels. Firstly being noisy it should stop anyone from being able to listen in, but also, as Robert still had to be careful that he wasn’t walking into a trap, he could scan the situation from some height first. The crowds of people would also add some protection should things, for any reason, turn nasty. But he didn’t think they would and was, therefore, looking forward to the chance to chat with such a crucial individual and someone so intimately connected to his target.

  Arriving at the shopping centre after just over two hours on the road, Robert pulled the car into the high multi-storey car park joined to the side of the three-tiered outlet. Robert was twenty minutes early for their nine o’clock meeting which was ideal as it would give him a little time to watch things from up there in the car park, making sure that Brendan was in fact alone and not bringing a team of people with him.

  Twenty minutes later Robert was running down the stairs, having watched Brendan all the way in, and seeing a man who was very much alone, almost as watchful as Robert had been, evidently feeling equally vulnerable. Robert realised Brendan had just as much on the line now as he had.

  They greeted each other warmly, and there was almost respect flowing from Brendan back to Robert as they chatted about their journeys in, soft and safe conversation that just darted around the edges while they warmed to one another.

  An hour later at a table covered with empty coffee cups and a plate that had had a few pastries on, but now only crumbs remaining, Brendan sat back in his chair amazed at what had just been revealed. Robert had merely come out with everything, taking it very slowly and allowing each piece of information to be digested. Robert told the story in such a way that it was fact-based, and crazy as it all sounded, let alone impossible to a mind like Brendan’s, Brendan had been captivated by it, and on a strange level, it all made sense.

  Robert had then gone into a little detail as to why Nigel had picked Brendan in the first place. Robert scratched on the service, making some light references to how Brendan's life might have had he never met Nigel, but it seemed pointless to Robert to paint too much of a picture because as things stood, all that was now just a life that no longer existed.

  Brendan sat there in his chair speechless for a few minutes while he processed what he had just heard. Robert gave him time, pouring the last drop of coffee and signalling to the young waitress for yet another pot. She darted into life again, smiling back at him as she went to the counter to make it.

  “A month ago, you know, I’d be calling the hospital now, assuming you were some nut case. But now?” Brendan shook his head, raising his eyes to somewhere in the sky, no real fixed point as if words just failed him at that moment to fully express what he was thinking. He continued:

  “I guess, if I'm honest, it all makes too much sense. I kept telling myself that Nigel just didn’t seem to have the business genius genes based on what I knew of him, and yet I saw him time and time again making money from nothing. After a while, I just stopped myself and put it down to…,” and Brendan thought hard for the right word, “luck, I guess?” But he didn't sound too convinced by that summation.

  “But it wasn’t luck, or genius, or anything like that,” Robert said.

  “No, hardly. Just…,” again words failing Brendan. He hadn’t been this lost with what to say in a long time. “Just...fake? Fake in the sense that Nigel pretends he’s one type of business-minded person, but nothing is a risk to him. I’m a CEO of a massive insurance company. I always wondered what his process was, you know. Nigel would always personally approve every piece of new business, and he would tell us which firms to approach giving us hugely generous discounts to offer them to get the business. And now I guess he was just checking that they didn’t have a claim in that coming year? It’s quite clever really, on some levels. Hardly an insurance issue though. Total premium, no claims expenses!”

  “You forget all the lives he has ruined in the process. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You should see how things have changed where I come from.”

  Brendan had almost forgotten all about what Robert had shared of his own personal history.

  “Oh, of course, you came back as well. What does life offer you? Don’t you miss home?”

  “That’s just the point. Home now is nothing; it doesn’t exist. Everyone I knew has changed. They don’t know any different, of course, for them it is reality; it's because I’m here that I get to notice what has changed. My job doesn’t even exist, and I had no family anyway. I guess this is the only thing I have left that hasn’t changed, my pursuit of Nigel. The world is changing for the worse though. You know the financial crisis that hit the world at the end of the last decade, well before Nigel came back there was no crisis. All his greed led the world, everyone, into melt-down.”

  Brendan shook his head in amazement.

  “It’s funny. When the world was losing its head and businesses were falling by the day, I thought how safe we were thanks to Nigel Gamble’s financial backing. In so many industries his group saw many competitors go bust in that time and some of these he bought up cheaply, basically profiting from the mess he’d created himself. Unbelievable!”

  They paused while the waitress placed a pot of fresh coffee on the table.

  “But what’s in it for you then, Robert? I mean if you say your job has gone, and you have no home, what does victory look like? It’s not like you can change the future again.”

  “It’s a question I ask myself all the time but never want to answer.” Robert took his time pouring out a fresh cup of coffee while he thought for another moment. “Everything in me drives me on to finish the task I came back here to do. There was no knowing how all this would have worked out, it was all so new to us at the time, and yet in his twenty-year head-start, Nigel has done a good job of hiding himself, at covering his path and as much as possible, eliminating any threat from his future. So what does victory look like? I don’t know; I really don’t. All I can do is get to Nigel.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then,” Robert paused, looking up and into Brendan’s eyes with no emotion at all showing, “kill him, of course!”

  “And then what?”

  “Now that is a question I’ve never asked myself. I don’t know. I feel I’m in so deep that I might never make it back to the surface.”

  “A suicide mission then?”

  “No, it wasn’t what I signed up for. It was all so new. What Nigel did when he came back changed everything. As soon as we got the other Door working, I came through in pursuit. The Agency was there for me to report back to, but before long they were changing but weren’t aware of it. So I went it alone, working things out for myself, writing loads of things down to be able to track the changes. That’s what led me to you, of course.”

  “So where do we go from here?”

  Robert was really enjoying the chat, the company. Especially so now that Brendan used the word we. At last Robert had someone on the inside and he was encouraged by Brendan’s acceptance of the situation and willingness to try and help put things right.

  “I have one or two idea
s,” Robert started, and they chatted happily for the next fifty minutes.

  Tommy awoke to hear crashing around in the kitchen, the smell of bacon confirming that Jessica was noisily cooking breakfast. He got out of bed, pulled on his robe and went downstairs to join her.

  She smiled as she saw him, busily frying an egg while a pot of fresh morning tea brewed on the dining room table that had been carefully set already. Toast, sitting in a toast rack Tommy didn’t know he had, stood in the middle of the table, neatly circled by an assortment of jams and marmalade with real butter on a plate by the side.

  Tommy went over and hugged her while she worked busily at the stove, wearing one of his sports shirts that she’d apparently taken from his cupboard, she was yet to have her things, her belongings being delivered there sometime later that day. She reached up to a cabinet to grab a can of beans, baring her middle and Tommy couldn’t resist playfully touching her waist. Jessica jumped, the experience of the other morning still haunting her, but she quickly gained composure, remembering the fact it was her Tommy, and she turned around and kissed him passionately on the lips.

  “You have that look in your eye, Thomas! Breakfast is nearly ready, let’s deal with that appetite first, shall we?”

  He pulled away in a childlike fashion, playing up deliberately, pretending to be an upset child and sticking his bottom lip out, before smiling, laughing and turning around to sit down.

  They ate well, enjoying the morning. Tommy really appreciated all the effort to which Jessica had gone. In turn, Jessica wanted to make an effort, so happy to be there, feeling so safe within his care.

  Tommy got ready, needing to go to the club as there were some important things to do, but he promised to be home for lunch. Jessica was going to stay home, waiting for her belongings to arrive and doing a general clean up of the house, amazed at herself by how domesticated she now felt.

 

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