Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  Before switching cars, now on the edge of London, he had changed clothes, wearing something more flamboyant than he would ever personally choose. Colour was not something you wore in central China, unless it was red. Elizabeth changed too and sat in the back seat. She kissed Gudu warmly on the lips as they got ready to set off again. They hadn’t spoken much. That could come later though there was some way to go still. It was as if both knew to focus on the rest of the journey for now. To deviate from the plan, to make an error, was unthinkable.

  Cap on, music and clothes loud, with his girl tucked away and out of sight in the back seat, he could have been anyone as he drove the hour plus it would take them to reach the river. Gudu was driving fast to shorten the journey, but not too quickly to draw unwanted attention. The further they got away from London, without the sound of helicopters watching from above, or any apparent cars following them on the road, the safer they felt. It was once they passed Colchester, now just minutes from their next destination, that they could sense the air of freedom. They’d pull this one off again. Gudu had not let her down yet.

  Getting to the town of Wix, the last one before their destination of Wrabness, they paused briefly on the edge of the bypass. Anyone going on the river in such an expensive vessel would be dressed very differently to what he had been wearing. Standing next to the car, with light traffic passing by but mainly ignoring them, Gudu stripped down to his underwear, Elizabeth watching every movement, every muscle from the back of the car. He was not a tall man but he was far from small. The scars across his back and left arm told a story of their own. She knew most of the stories as well as most of the wounds. There was little of his body about which she wasn't familiar. He had taught her to not view them as scars, but as lessons in life. He would then remind her of every lesson he’d learnt as he went through the various injuries. It was one of the things she loved about him, his outlook on life, his way of thinking; he was also a very gentle lover, ironic for a man capable of so much.

  After that brief pause, with Gudu in clothes suitable for the owner of a fast boat, they were away again, moving the last few minutes until they pulled up on a quiet and empty little road, now just north of the small town that is Wrabness. Elizabeth opened the back door, stretching her legs, touching the back of her neck where it had stiffened on the journey. Gudu came over to her and without saying a word, placing his hands on her neck, started gently massaging her muscles. If he weren’t such a good killer, maybe he’d have made a brilliant masseur.

  “We’ve made it,” she said, her neck feeling much freer as she rolled it around a couple of times in each direction.

  “Don’t be too sure, Lizzie. Not until we are on the plane.”

  She loved the way he called her that, his special name for her. She’d never let another man call her that, besides her parents when she was little. That was longer ago than she cared to let on. Not that she looked a day over thirty.

  Collecting everything from the car, which wasn’t a lot, they left it there, wiped off any fingerprints––it wouldn’t tell the police very much at all. They each had a small bag with them. As well as the documentation they would need once across the sea; they had money, a new phone which was still in the box and other vital necessities, including a change of clothes.

  From where they’d left the car, it was a ten-minute walk across a wooded area before they got to the river, the boat moored in a secluded spot, as remote as anyone could hope. They climbed aboard the twin-engine vessel, Gudu helping Elizabeth as she stepped from the riverbank. She went straight for the driver’s seat, Gudu putting the bags below deck in the spacious cabin area. He heard the sound of the engines firing into life as he re-emerged from the cabin. Elizabeth backed the boat out expertly from where it was docked, edging further out into the main river, before turning and heading forward for the open sea, which once they passed the main port at Harwick, wouldn’t take long. They would keep on the north side of the river, avoiding the more massive ships that might be moving along the river around the international port, though they would need to come south, along with all the other river traffic, as they passed the southern tip of Felixstowe. After that, it was the open sea. The crossing at cruising speed would take around six hours.

  Once clear of Felixstowe, and no further problems with other sea traffic, Elizabeth set the instruments on the main control panel with the directions and the boat started to drive itself. Gudu came over to her with a glass of champagne.

  “I think we can make a toast finally, my dear.” She took it from his hand, and they clinked glasses.

  “To freedom,” she said.

  “To China and a great future,” he added.

  “How long do we have?” he said.

  “I’ll need to retake control a good hour before we get near the Dutch coast. Plus we’ll come in from the north, fitting with the idea that we’ve been out touring for the day. So I’d say we have a few hours. Why?” She already knew what he had in mind, and she started undressing, kissing him halfway through, a passion held back for some time, a lover she’d had to ignore for too long. She unbuttoned his shirt as they kissed, pulling him back and onto her as she fell onto a sofa, her legs now around him.

  Like the taste of the champagne, a long time absent from her lips, she was going to savour the next happy minutes. There was no need to rush anything.

  By early evening, they were each saying goodbye to one another, now safely in Amsterdam. The journey had been without incident, the docking straightforward and the train connection between Rotterdam and the airport as efficient as they could have hoped. She didn’t know when they’d next see each other, the moment of departure one of bittersweet passions and conflicting emotions. He’d come and rescued her, freeing her from genuine danger, a knight saving his princess, from a terrible dragon too. They’d made a clean getaway from England, savoured the physical reconnection while making the crossing and now, at the end of it all, would have to go their separate ways once more. Splitting up was deemed the best way of staying safe. She’d also now used up her most significant value to China. Exposed, so there was little else she could do for them. Of course, it was possible she could live in China. Maybe that was what some expected, and if it could have offered a life, family even, she’d have considered it. But she knew they would never let go of Gudu yet; he was too valuable to them. She couldn’t imagine the thought of waiting for him to come home, not knowing if he ever would. No, China was not an option for her. There was also too much history there, too many memories. She’d lived and worked in Beijing before. Now, she needed to do neither. With millions in the bank, she had the resources to make herself disappear for good and starting a whole new life. Was this to be a life without her lover? They hadn’t talked about it. Both knew splitting up, losing themselves in the world, was the best next step. Beyond that, it was anyone’s guess.

  They didn’t discuss where they were heading. Partly because Elizabeth hadn’t yet decided, partly that the less they knew of each other, the safer both of them would be. Each plane had registered a destination to clear for take-off, and both aircraft would change course midair, each pilot subject to the wishes of their prized passenger.

  As Elizabeth’s plane waited on the runway, she sat there quietly, looking out of the window. A more substantial aeroplane was ahead of them both, then it was Gudu’s, then hers. There were tears now in her eyes.

  Five minutes later she watched his jet ascend and bank to the right. She watched it as long as she could, but her plane was already moving into position and soon she too was airborne. A course was set, heading east. She had an hour or so to inform them where she was going. It was likely there’d be a few stops along the way. Pulling open a computer, she looked at a few things. Maps were open, information detailing various islands that were for sale, properties listed and such. The next few weeks were going to be exciting, though the reality of completely starting over was a constant concern.

  London, England

  Nearly
a week had passed since Elizabeth had been freed from the MI5 safe house. Those tasked with working out what had happened were only just now putting the final pieces together as to how she got away, and more importantly, where she was now. Two of the technicians working on the data came back into Adam’s office, Lucy also in with him at that moment.

  “It’s confirmed that they both made it to Holland. They were registered under Dutch names. We think they boarded a train and headed to the airport in Amsterdam. Two private jets took off, and we are certain they were on them, possibly both on the same flight…”

  “The other being a decoy, you mean?” Lucy said.

  “Yes, though most likely they each went their separate ways. It’s possible they remained in the Netherlands and that these were two unconnected flights, though we highly doubt that. Firstly, Europe would be too risky for them to stay in for any length of time. Secondly, neither of these flights landed at the destinations they were supposed to. Look…” he said, dropping aviation maps in front of them both. “One plane had clearance to fly to Malaysia with a scheduled stop for refuelling in Turkey, and the other was due to fly directly to Senegal, in West Africa. Satellite images show they never made it. Nor, from what we can tell, did the first one even refuel in Turkey.”

  “So where did they go?” Adam said.

  “We don’t know.”

  “Can’t you just track them? Surely there is some satellite data or something?”

  “It doesn’t work like that. The satellites have to be looking down in that specific location to track something, which would mean knowing about it ahead of the detour. There are just too many flights happening for that to be remotely possible. That’s why they never found that Malaysian Airlines plane that crashed––no one was watching it so when it disappeared, it was just guesswork as to where to look.”

  Adam opened up a world map on his computer.

  “So this plane that was heading east. You say it was due to fly to Malaysia but needed to refuel first? It’s not so far, is it, to have been able to do it in one go?”

  “These are smaller jets, carrying less fuel. It’s not uncommon for them to stop.”

  “Might they just have gone direct, without the stop?”

  “We looked at each final destination. There is nothing there, no record of the plane landing, no satellite evidence of them being on the ground at any moment after they would have taken off from Amsterdam. They didn’t land there.”

  Adam ran his finger up on the screen in front of them all, due north.

  “China sits some two, no, three thousand kilometres north of Malaysia. If it was the two of them, as we presume, might they not have both been on that first flight you mentioned and flown to China instead? If they needed to refuel, assuming they couldn’t have made it to the westernmost point of China in one go, there are any number of possible places they might have been allowed to stop. Georgia, Azerbaijan, Uzbekistan…”

  “It’s possible,” the technician interrupted, not wanting to state these were far more unstable nations and that most firms who ran the private jets of the type hired for these flights would never stop in countries like the ones Adam had just mentioned for security reasons.

  “And the flight south, assuming they were each on separate flights. It’s highly likely they were sending their enforcer to Nigeria, where that former Chinese diplomat has been held for over a month by Boko Haram.”

  “A rescue mission? Even if they knew where he was, bearing in mind, Nigeria is the size of a nation like France, and he’d be extremely outnumbered and very much alone.”

  “Didn’t seem to bother him in Cuba the other month, did it?”

  “Look, we’ll keep searching, but even if we find the planes and then track down the firm and from them ascertain where the planes landed and who they were carrying––this still all happened nearly a week ago and the situation is sure to have changed dramatically by now. They most certainly would have moved on, taking further flights––networking all around the world––for all we know. So we will keep looking, but you need to know we probably won’t come up with a lot of information that will be of any use to you all in the recapture of the prisoner.” They’d long since stopped calling her Elizabeth; she’d given up that honour the moment she was exposed for who she was. “Best chance of finding her again is picking up on communications, anything that gets shared online, that sort of thing.”

  “I’ll have a word with the Cousins,” Adam said. It was possible that the Americans would know something they didn’t, but both technicians, who’d been working double time for the last week, doubted that greatly. They gathered up their papers and made their escape. Lucy, too, stood and left Adam to his thoughts.

  “Where have you gone?” Adam said, still looking at the map in front of him. Even knowing the correct continent wouldn’t begin to give him an idea of where she was. No, the others were right. There would have to be another way of finding out. She would have to resurface some time again and at some point, she would be forced to break cover. Then they would be waiting.

  Washington DC, USA

  In Washington, there had been little contact with their British counterparts since the escape, noticeably little communication. For Roy Cole and his team, that suited them. Zero contact was the safest way not to risk setting off an international incident with a friendly nation, by saying something that someone would very quickly regret. They were angry at the way the situation had been handled. They were annoyed that Elizabeth had been allowed to escape before they even got to spend one moment with her to ask their very own questions. To find out who she’d betrayed from their side of the ocean. And they resented the fact that over the last few weeks, any comment they made, received a stinging reply about America’s recent failings in Guantanamo Bay. Well, two could play that game if they wanted. Right now, however, distance suited them, as much as the silence that went with it. They were watching. Not only the British but more for signs of what the Chinese were up to next. Signs of where the mysterious Chinese enforcer had landed, where he was hiding and where he might strike next. Rarely had someone who wasn’t a known terrorist featured so highly on their most wanted list, albeit a list away from public eyes. The loss of life in China had brought the issue to the American Secret Service and this was something they wouldn’t let drop. Entirely how they could strike back, they did not yet know. If the Chinese had placed so much trust on this British mole, now on the run, as well as so much hope on this so-called Shadow Man, then catching one or both of them promised the biggest reward for America––and the highest cost to China.

  Financially, they couldn’t compete. Military conflict was off the table, in the same way that the strongest of lions would still never take on a herd of elephants.

  “Roy, you’ll need to see this,” came the call that pulled him from his thoughts. He grabbed his coffee and left the office, joining his team around a bank of computers where they’d been working for the best part of three days straight.

  “What have you got?”

  “We’ve just made an intercept of information passing through one of Saleem Ahmed’s men in Iraq.” Roy glanced at the screen where a scanned image was displayed, the Arabic meaning nothing to him though he could see his translators were quickly working on a transcript. “It claims to be from the Boko Haram fighters in Nigeria, the same ones who have captured the former Chinese General last month. They claim to have information regarding foreign Secret Service and government personnel, including British, American and Israeli, as well as many other European nations. They claim the five killed last week was proof of the information they have.” There was a pause while the last bit got translated. They double checked they had it correct. “And there is an invitation to the heads of other militant groups to come and help with the execution of everyone they have details about.”

  “It’s a call to arms. An invitation to join forces in a united effort against the West,” Roy said, having processed what he’d just been told. “See
if you can prove the origins of this information, and monitor all follow-up.”

  “We are already onto that, sir. It’s already been passed onto men acting as go-betweens for all the major terrorist networks. Information like this can lead to terrorism on a mass scale.”

  “Any idea what the American interest is? Obviously, there will be extensive information they have on us. But does any of the information we’ve already intercepted list anything specific about us?”

  “No, sir, there has been nothing so far. The only document that Saleem Ahmed had been passed is the information detailing the five British informants who were killed last week. It appears the Nigerians are keeping the rest of the information to themselves, for now, clearly wanting to benefit from it in some way or other. That original leak was merely to prove they had credible intel. I assume they’ll only have the original copies with them in Nigeria, wherever they are holding out.”

  “But they must have got this from the Chinese in some way. That was the source of this information, right? The Chinese picked it up when they stole the blueprints from the British. Can’t we gather this information from the Chinese, or at least hack it from them?”

  “Even if we knew where to look, we would risk a cyberwar by even trying. Nothing on that scale has ever been attempted and we’re in a type of cold war of the internet age already. If we went that route, we’d open ourselves to just the same type of viral interrogation.”

  “Aren’t we already?”

  “Nothing compared with what could happen. There are always individual hackers, chancers trying their hand and sometimes getting lucky. But a state-sponsored attack and by the Chinese, no less? They’d pull in every resource, open up every avenue they have. They could obliterate us without leaving their nation. We have to tread very carefully.”