Terror Illusion

by James R Conway

“You’re right, Roger. We’ll wait,” said Mac.

  “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long,” said Karen who had left the conference table and walked over to the control centre. “He’s just walked out of his house and put a suitcase in the car.” Karen was watching the image from the CCTV camera at the end of Sean’s street. Everyone came over and stood behind her, looking at the screen above her head, which carried the same image as on her computer screen. After a few moments, they saw Sean Donnelly step out of his house, open the driver’s door of his car and get in.

  “Lights! Camera! Action!” said Roger. On one of the other large screens, Karen brought up a map of the Willesden area. The ANPR system showed Sean’s car as a bright, white, flashing dot on the screen. Every few seconds the dot jumped to a new location as Sean’s car moved into the range of a different CCTV camera.

  “It doesn’t show the exact position of his car,” said Karen as she turned towards Jonathan, “just the last time a camera saw him.”

  As they all watched, the tracking dot moved away from its original position and started moving eastward through Willesden. The group continued watching intently as the white dot continued its halting progress.

  “Do you think he knows that we are watching him?” said Jonathan.

  “Probably not,” said Roger. “If he did he would use back roads and we would lose him. Back roads don’t have as many cameras.”

  “He’s turning north on the Edgware Road,” said Mac. “He’s going to go up the M1.” The M1 was a motorway that ran north from London to the north of England.

  “Right, Jonathan. Let’s hit the road,” said Mac. “We’ll head out on the M1 and catch up with him. Roger, stay in touch on the mobile. I’ll also have Jonathan track Sean on the laptop while we are in the car. Don’t lose him!”

  “You can use my car,” said Roger. “You don’t have time to rent a car.”

  “Keep us on your tracking screen, Karen,” said Mac as he and Jonathan pulled on their overcoats. Roger threw his car keys to Mac.

  “Take care,” said Roger, “and don’t bend the Beemer”.

  Mac and Jonathan stepped out of the office and closed the door. They took the lift to the underground car park and Mac led Jonathan to Roger’s silver BMW. They got in, Mac driving, and he reversed out of the parking space. They emerged onto Horseferry Road and Mac turned right. He drove up Park Lane to Marble Arch and then he was on the Edgware Road, which would lead him directly to the start of the M1.

  “Give Karen a call,” said Mac. “Tell her we will be on the M1 north bound in ten minutes. Find out what’s going on.”

  Jonathan put the phone on speaker so that Mac could hear the conversation, then he dialled Karen’s number. When Karen answered, he passed on their position information then said, “How’s the tracking?”

  “Sean turned onto the M1 north bound about five minutes ago,” said Karen.

  “How fast is he going?” said Jonathan.

  “I’d estimate around sixty, maybe sixty five.”

  “OK, thanks, Karen. We’ll stay in touch.”

  Jonathan ended the call then turned to Mac. “What do you think he’s up to?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” said Mac. “If his target was in the middle of London, why would he be heading out into the country?”

  “To collect something?” said Jonathan.

  They were both quiet for a few minutes while they pondered the question as Mac threaded his way through the busy traffic. They had just reached the motorway and Mac was accelerating up to the speed limit when Jonathan was struck by a thought.

  “Could he be collecting explosives?”

  “Good thinking,” said Mac. “When I worked in Northern Ireland, the bombers did not keep a stockpile of explosives in their homes in case they were searched. The collected explosives that were hidden south of the border each time they built a bomb.”

  Jonathan’s mobile phone rang. He answered it and put it on speaker. It was Karen. “We are tracking you guys now,” she said, “and you’re about twenty miles behind Sean. He is still heading north”

  “Thanks, Karen.” Jonathan ended the call.

  “I think we’ll push up the speed a bit,” said Mac. “If he turns off onto a country road he could be out of CCTV cover and we might lose him.”

  Mac increased his speed to eighty miles an hour. Even at that speed, the BMW was being overtaken by many vehicles. At that speed, they would probably catch up with Sean in about an hour. Mac dare not push his speed beyond eighty. The last thing he needed was to waste time getting pulled over by the police for speeding

  For a long time the only sounds in the car were the roaring of the engine and the rumble of the tyres as the BMW ate up four miles every three minutes, closing the twenty mile gap between Sean and his pursuers by a mile every four minutes.

  Jonathan spoke up: “I was just calculating that we are about sixteen miles behind Sean. What are we going to do when we catch up with him? Arrest him? Call the police?”

  “He hasn’t actually broken any laws yet,” said Mac. “I want to follow him from a safe distance and see what he does. He may lead us to other people.”

  “If both Sean and us stay on the road and stay at this speed,” said Jonathan, “we should be caught up with him in about an hour. Of course he could speed up or turn off this road at any time.”

  “Let’s keep our fingers crossed that luck is on our side,” said Mac.

  They drove on through a grey winter’s afternoon, closing in on Sean.

  “I expect he will need to stop for fuel at some point,” said Mac, “or at least to stretch his legs. I’d like to catch up with him before he does that. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion where he might be going, or at least the general area, and I don’t want to lose him.”

  “Where do you think he’s going?”

  “Let’s leave that open for now,” said Mac. “Why don’t you check in with Karen and see how things are going back at base?”

  Jonathan dialled Karen’s number.

  “Hello Jonathan! How goes it?”

  “Gaining on him steadily, we hope,” said Jonathan.

  “We are tracking him on the M1,” said Karen. “He’s maintaining about sixty miles an hour. You’re about twelve miles behind him.”

  Mac shouted over towards the phone. “Call us straight away if you see him turn off the road or if you lose him.”

  “Will do,” said Karen.

  Jonathan ended the call.

  They drove on in silence. Jonathan was calculating their progress in his head as they slowly closed the gap. Ten miles. Nine miles. Eight miles. Every four minutes another mile ticked off. Eventually there were just two miles separating them from Sean’s vehicle.

  “Two miles, by my reckoning,” said Jonathan. “I’m going to check with Karen.” He called Karen’s number.

  “Yes, I think he’s about two miles ahead of you,” said Karen.

  “We’ll close up another mile and then stay behind him,” said Jonathan.

  “If he stays on the motorways we will be able to track him but if he turns off onto local roads it will be a lot more difficult,” said Karen. “You’ll have to try to get close enough to follow him visually.”

  “Stay in touch. We’ll close up on him,” said Jonathan. He looked over at Mac for approval and Mac nodded. Jonathan ended the call.

  Within a couple of minutes Jonathan saw a car up ahead that looked like the car he had seen in Willesden on CCTV, the gold coloured Renault 307. Soon they were just a hundred yards behind the Renault and Mac dropped his speed to maintain that distance.

  “There are some binoculars in my bag,” said Mac. “Pull them out, would you?”

  Jonathan reached over to Mac’s bag on the back seat and after rummaging around for a while, he found the binoculars.

  “Can you see the registration number from this distance?” said Mac.

  Jonathan put the binoculars to his eyes and adjusted the focus. He checked the r
egistration against the note that Karen had written for him. “That’s him.”

  “Good! We’ll keep him in sight. Give Karen another call and give her an update.”

  Jonathan called Karen again. “We’ve got him visual now, Karen. We are staying a hundred yards back.”

  “Good work!” said Karen. “We’ll continue tracking him for as long as we can. Our tracking is showing you right on top of him. Be careful!”

  Mac was letting other vehicles pull in between him and Sean’s car from time to time, to try to avoid Sean suspecting that he was being followed.

  The winter sun had now set and the motorway was dark although a full moon rising in the east provided hope that Mac and Jonathan might have a bright moonlit night.

  As they motored on, Sean maintained his route along the M1, but there was a maze of possible routes around Birmingham, the city at the centre of England, and Sean could head off in almost any direction. Mac and Jonathan just had to keep him in sight and see where the pursuit took them.

  Still following a hundred yards behind, Mac and Jonathan approached another major junction, which might clarify Sean’s intended route. Sean took the M6 west towards Birmingham rather than the alternative northerly direction, which would have taken Sean further towards northern England or even Scotland.

  “I think I know where he’s going,” said Mac, “I’d bet he is heading for Wales”

  “Why Wales, Mac?”

  “Let’s see if you can work it out. What is the name of the body of water to the west of Wales?”

  “The Irish Sea?”

  “Right, and beyond that?”

  “Ireland?”

  “Exactly! I’ll bet you he is going to meet up with someone who has come over from Ireland with his explosives. He’s on a trip to pick them up.”

  “Now I see it”, said Jonathan.

  “I’ve been in the intelligence business a long time. You develop a sixth sense about these things.”

  The pursuit continued. Sean continued west on the M6 passing around the north of Birmingham, then Mac and Jonathan followed him as he turned towards Wales on the M54.

  “Look!” said Mac. “He’s turning off!”

  Sean’s car had its left turn indicator flashing and he pulled off the motorway into Corley service area. Still keeping a safe distance, Mac followed Sean’s car into the service area. As with all motorway service areas in England, there were two distinct areas. As vehicles entered the service area there was a road which ran directly to the fuel filling station so that people who just needed to stop for fuel could proceed straight back to the motorway and continue their journey. A second area was for travellers who wanted to take a longer break. This area had a large car park, restaurants, and shops. There was a direct road to this area, bypassing the fuel filling station and there was a loop road back to the car park for those who needed fuel and a break from driving.

  Mac stopped a couple of dozen yards back from the fuelling area as Sean’s car pulled up on the right side of a fuelling island.

  “I’m betting he will pay cash,” said Mac. “That means he will have to go into the shop and pay the cashier rather than paying at the pump with a credit card.”

  “Why would he pay cash?” said Jonathan.

  “Cards leave a trail.”

  Mac pulled forward and drew his car up to a fuelling island two over from where Sean was parked so that he could watch Sean’s movements without being seen.

  “Jonathan, here’s my debit card. Get out and fill her up with premium, would you? But before you start would you hand me my bag, please?”

  Jonathan got out, then retrieved Mac’s bag from the back seat and put it on the front passenger seat from where Mac could reach it. Then Jonathan went to attend to the refuelling of the BMW. Mac reached into his bag and pulled out three items. The first was a laptop computer and the second was the computer’s power supply. He placed both of these items on the seat beside the bag. He then returned to the bag and drew out the third item. It was a plastic box, coloured brown and about the same size and shape as a box of cigarettes. On top of the box was a shiny metal disk.

  Mac got out of the car and stood behind it where he could see Sean clearly. He watched as Sean walked over to the shop to pay for his fuel. As soon as Sean’s back was turned, he ran over the Sean’s car and crouched behind it. Using the magnetized disk, he attached the plastic box to the underside of Sean’s car where it could not be seen unless Sean crawled under the vehicle. Mac stood up, dusted off his knees and walked nonchalantly back to the BMW. When he got there, Jonathan had just finished refuelling and he handed to debit card over to Mac.

  Mac kept his back to Sean’s car and said, “Jonathan, keep an eye on that car and let me know when he moves off and which way he goes. He could loop back to the shops but I suspect he will get back on the road. Tell me if he is carrying anything when he comes out of the shop.”

  Mac opened the driver’s door and lifted his bag over into the back seat. He placed the laptop computer and power supply into the passenger foot well and then closed the driver’s door and stood up.

  “He’s coming out now and he’s carrying a brown paper bag,” said Jonathan. “Now he’s getting into his car and he’s heading back onto the motorway.”

  “Good!” said Mac. “Let’s go and take a bio break and pick up some sandwiches. I can’t do a pursuit on an empty stomach and I missed lunch.”

  “Are you going to let him get away?”

  “He won’t get far!”

  Leaving the car at the fuel pump, they walked over to the shop and after a bathroom break, they selected a couple of sandwiches and a couple of soft drinks each and went to pay for them.

  On the way back to the car, Jonathan said, “You seem very relaxed about this pursuit, Mac.”

  “I put one of my little toys into operation. He has a GPS tracker stuck on the bottom of his car. It sends a signal by satellite to the control centre in Horseferry Road.”

  “So they can keep us informed about where he is?”

  “Better yet. I’ve got a link from the control centre to my laptop and we can see where he is in real time.”

  By now, they had reached the car. “Be careful getting in,” said Mac. “I put the laptop on the floor in front of your seat.”

  Jonathan climbed carefully into the passenger seat and picked up the laptop. He plugged one end of the power cable into the car’s cigarette lighter outlet and the other into the laptop. Mac handed him the bag of sandwiches and drinks and Jonathan placed the bag on the floor in front of him. Mac started the car and moved off, away from the fuel pump and the bright lights of the filling station and out into the darkness of the road.

  “Get that computer fired up,” said Mac as he accelerated the BMW to join the motorway traffic, “then call Karen and tell her we have put a tracker on Sean’s car.”

  Jonathan did as Mac had asked. When Karen answered, he said, “We just got on the road again and we put a tracker on Sean’s car.”

  “I know,” said Karen. “It just appeared on our display. Can you ask Mac to turn on the BMW tracker for me so I can keep an eye on you?”

  Mac heard the request on the speaker and pressed a button on the dashboard. A red light appeared showing that the car in which Jonathan and Mac were travelling was now sending a GPS tracking signal to Karen in the control centre.

  “We’ve got you,” said Karen. “Have you got any idea what Sean is up to?”

  Jonathan looked over at Mac who shook his head. “Nothing yet, but we’re working on it” said Jonathan.

  “Keep safe out there,” said Karen.

  Jonathan ended the call. By now, the laptop had started up and its screen glowed brightly in the darkness of the car.

  “Now click on the GPS tracker icon,” said Mac.

  Jonathan clicked and after a few seconds, a screen opened showing a map of the whole of the United Kingdom from the Shetland Islands in the far north to the Scilly Isles in the far southwest. After
a few more seconds, two white dots appeared, very close together and roughly in the middle of England.

  Intuitively, Jonathan clicked on one of the dots and the map image zoomed in to a more detailed map, with Bristol in the southwest corner and Newcastle upon Tyne in the northeast. Jonathan clicked again twice and the map now showed the tangle of motorways and highways around Birmingham.

  “Right, which way did he go?” said Mac.

  Jonathan studied the map. The dot representing Sean’s car was still progressing west on the M54 towards Wales. Jonathan reported the position to Mac.

  “I’m glad we had a chance to get that tracker on Sean’s car,” said Mac. “This modern technology makes pursuits so much easier.”

  Jonathan laughed. “Takes some of the fun out of it though?”

  “I’d like to say it balances the odds a bit better,” said Mac. “Could you hand me a drink and a sandwich?”

  Jonathan closed the laptop lid and picked up the bag. He passed a sandwich and a drink to Mac, and got the same for himself.

  Jonathan opened the laptop again. When they had left the service area, Sean had gained about ten miles ahead of them but now they had halved that distance as Mac maintained a steady eighty miles an hour, ten miles an hour above the legal speed limit. Jonathan’s phone rang. It was Roger.

  “I’ve taken over the watch from Karen,” said Roger. “I reckon he is going to head out west on the A5 and head into mid Wales.

  “Wales was our thinking too,” said Jonathan. “Do you need to speak with Mac?”

  “No, let him concentrate on the driving. I gave Karen a few hours rest. I have a feeling we’re going to be working late tonight. Keep on Sean’s tail, Jonathan.”

  “Keep an eye on that screen,” said Mac. “I think he’s going to make a straight shot for the coast. We’ll only average about forty miles an hour on that part of the route.”

  As Jonathan watched the screen, it slowly scrolled to keep the two dots towards the right of the screen and the road across Wales to the coast spread out towards the left. Sean’s car remained about four miles ahead, slowed by the narrow, winding roads.

  “It’s a pity it is dark,” said Mac, “This is a really pretty part of the world.”

  The next significant navigational point was Shrewsbury, a typical market town, serving the farming community surrounding it. From there, there were no more significant towns until Aberystwyth, on the coast of Wales, just a few small villages as the road wound its way across Wales.

  Jonathan kept watch on the dots, moving westward in unison, five miles apart. There was very little traffic in either direction on the road. Jonathan felt he was in the middle of nowhere. “Do you want me to give you a rest from driving, Mac?”

  “I’m all right for now,” said Mac. “Perhaps you can drive us home. This road is hard work after the motorway!”

  “Yes, tracking these white blobs is mesmerizing too! Let’s have another drink. I need the caffeine to keep me awake!”

  “Me too!” said Mac and he laughed. Jonathan pulled two more cans out of the paper bag and passed one to Mac.

  Eventually, after two and half long hours of rather uneventful driving, the computer map showed Sean’s car approaching the coastal town of Aberystwyth. Here he had a choice of turning either north or south. The computer map showed Jonathan and Mac still five miles behind.

  “You might want to zoom in a bit more so you can track him through the streets of the town,” said Mac.

  Jonathan clicked on one of the white blobs a couple of times and the map revealed the detail of the streets of Aberystwyth. Sean skirted around the southern edge of the town and turned south on the coastal road. Jonathan gave another situation report to Mac.

  “He’s probably going to pull off this road somewhere,” said Mac. “Keep a close eye on him.”

  As Mac turned the car south onto the coast road, the full moon illuminated the sea to their right. After their long drive across Wales, it was refreshing to be on the coast road as it followed the edge of the Cardigan Bay and the Irish Sea.

  They had travelled about sixteen miles south along the coast when Jonathan saw that Sean’s car had stopped and the BMW was now only two miles north of Sean’s position.

  “We need to close up in stealth mode,” said Mac. “No lights. Then we’ll get out and walk the last half mile. We can hide the car in the sand dunes. With this moonlight, we’ll have to be really careful not to be seen. Bring the binoculars.”

  Mac turned off the lights on the BMW but the bright moonlight made it possible to continue slowly along the coast road until they were about half a mile north of Sean’s position. Mac turned right off the road and toward the ocean and pulled the car to a halt between two sand dunes.

  Sean’s car was about fifty feet closer to the ocean than the BMW, and it was parked near what appeared to Mac and Jonathan to be a boathouse. Sean got out of his car and walked towards the boathouse as he was watched from the BMW. Sean reached into his pocket. Jonathan focussed the binoculars again and saw that Sean was holding a set of keys. Sean walked to the back of the boathouse, farthest away from the ocean, and unlocked it and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

  “Let’s get out of the car and move forward a bit,” said Mac. “Bring the binoculars.”

  “He might see us in this bright moonlight,” said Jonathan.

  “He’s only likely to spot us if we are moving or if we break the skyline. Anyway, there’s some clouds blowing in from the west and that will give us a better cover.”

  They got out of the car and very quietly closed the door then they crawled behind the dunes and moved forward very carefully, hiding behind each dune until they were at the top of the beach. They were now at the level of the beach hut, which was about fifty yards away to the south. They crawled up a dune and were careful to keep hidden by the tufts of grass that sprouted from the top. Mac silently signalled for Jonathan to pass over the binoculars and he looked over towards the boat house. There was no sign of movement. The wind was strengthening from the west and at the water’s edge, the surf was becoming noisier.

  “How come he had the keys to the boathouse? For that matter, how did he know the boathouse just happened to be here?” said Jonathan in a whisper.

  “Sean’s a very meticulous operator,” whispered Mac. “He will have rehearsed this exercise a couple of times and he would have taken a Plasticine impression of the lock and made a duplicate key.”

  Suddenly the large double doors at the front of the boathouse swung open and a few moments later Sean emerged drawing a two-wheeled trailer on which was mounted what looked like an open boat, about twelve feet long. There was an outboard motor mounted on the stern of the boat. Sean pulled the boat and trailer clear of the boathouse and closed the front doors, then he emerged from the back door, which he locked. He then walked over to his car and lifted a black package out of the boot. He carried the package over to the boat and threw it into the craft.

  Sean looked around, looking along the beach in either direction, looking at the sand dunes to the north and south of the boathouse. Mac and Jonathan pushed themselves close to the sand, to avoid being spotted.

  Apparently satisfied that he was not being watched, Sean picked up the trailer again and wheeled it around so that the stern was now facing the sea. He then pushed the trailer down the short beach and into the water.

  Mac was observing this procedure through the binoculars while Jonathan was looking out to sea. Suddenly, Jonathan tapped Mac’s shoulder.

  “I think there are lights out there at sea,” said Jonathan quietly.

  Mac turned his binoculars in the direction that Jonathan had pointed. “You’re right. He’s got a rendezvous with that trawler.”

  “Picking up explosives?” said Jonathan.

  “I’d put money on it,” said Mac.

  “Do you want to try and stop him?”

  “Not at this stage. I want to get as much information from Sean as I can.”

/>   There was the sound of an outboard motor and they both looked up to see Sean jumping into the stern of the boat and steering it straight out to sea through the surf that was breaking in the shallow water near the beach.

  “I think we’ve probably got an hour or two to relax now,” said Mac. “Are there any sandwiches left in the car?”

  “Yes, there are. Do you want me to fetch them?”

  “No, let’s get in the car and warm up a bit.”

  Mac and Jonathan stood up and stretched, then they walked back through the dunes to the car. Just before getting in, Mac took another look out to sea through his binoculars, then got into the car. Jonathan was already in the car and was pulling sandwiches and drinks from the brown paper bag.

  “So what’s the plan now?” said Jonathan.

  “We’ll wait for him to come back from the trawler. Then I think he will head back towards London, probably on a different route. Now we’ve got the GPS tracker on him we should have no trouble following him.”

  “If you want to take a nap for a while, I’ll keep watch,” said Jonathan. “I’ll get out of the car for a while and give Roger an update if you like”

  “Thanks, Jonathan. An hour’s shuteye will do me good. Then I’ll keep watch and you can get some sleep.”

  Jonathan got out of the car and called Roger to update him on the last hour’s events, then he walked down to the waterline and looked out to sea through the binoculars. The trawler was still in the same position. He estimated that it was about four miles offshore. No doubt the trawler would be appearing on a radar scope somewhere, but the vessel was perfectly legal. Sean’s boat was probably too small to be picked up by radar.

  The clouds had thickened considerably since they had first arrived and now the full moon was only visible through the occasional break in the clouds. The sea and the beach, which had previously been bathed in a bright silver light, were almost hidden in the gloom and the sand dunes appeared as dark smudges at the top of the beach. The wind had picked up considerably too, and the sound of the surf crashing on the beach was much louder.

  Jonathan pulled up the collar of his overcoat and walked back up the beach to where the car was parked. As he approached the car, he saw that Mac had reclined his driver’s seat and appeared to be sleeping. Jonathan set the alarm on his mobile to one hour and as quietly as he could he climbed into the car and sat in the front passenger seat alongside Mac.

  Jonathan started to feel sleepy after just a quarter of an hour sitting in the car. He decided he would have to spend most of his shift outside if he were to stay awake. No doubt, he would be able to sleep when they got back on the road. He climbed out of the car and quietly closed the door. He thought the best way to pass the time and to stay alert would be to walk back and forth along the beach, about two hundred yards each way. Periodically he scanned the sea with his binoculars. The lights of the trawler remained stationary offshore, but he could see no other signs of activity.

  He jumped when the alarm on his mobile went off, but he gathered his thoughts quickly and shut off the alarm. He walked back to the car and had almost reached it when he heard the sound of an outboard motor. He scuttled behind a sand dune and looked out towards the surf. He saw the boat just as it grounded itself at the water line. The outboard motor soon cut out, but there was no one aboard. Jonathan scanned left and right along the water line, but there was no sign of Sean.

  Jonathan ran back to the car and tapped on the driver’s window. Mac stirred from his sleep and Jonathan pulled the door open.

  “What’s up?” said Mac, rather sleepily.

  “The boat is back, but no sign of Sean.”

  Mac climbed out of the car, and took the binoculars offered by Jonathan. He scanned the beach and looked out to sea. The trawler’s lights were no longer visible.

  “Sean is not in the boat,” said Mac. “He might have fallen out, which I rather doubt. He might have stayed on the trawler, but then why send the boat back to shore? He could have easily sunk it or even dragged it aboard the trawler.”

  Mac made another scan of the beach with the binoculars. “He’s not on the beach. Let’s go down to the boat and see what we can find.”

  Mac and Jonathan walked down the beach to the boat. It was completely empty except for some water, swilling around in the bottom of the boat as it gently rocked in the surf.

  A car engine roared into life and headlights illuminated the beach. Mac pulled Jonathan down onto the sand in the shadow of the boat. The car swung towards the coast road and the beach was once again plunged into darkness. Mac stood up and helped Jonathan to his feet. Their clothes were wet and peppered with sand.

  “Damn! He must have swum ashore,” said Mac.

  They walked up the beach to where the car had been. There was a heap of black clothing, which Jonathan picked up.

  “A wet suit,” said Jonathan. “You’re right, he swam ashore. But why?”

  “Probably to make sure he wasn’t being followed,” said Mac.

  “If he had swum ashore in a black wetsuit, no one would see him and he would have been able to make a run for it if he had seen us. As I told you, Sean is a pretty cool operator. Let’s get back to our car and get after him.”

  They walked through the dunes and past the boathouse and reached their car. They both made an effort to brush the sand off their clothes but with the clothes still damp, it was not a very successful exercise.

  “I’ll get Roger’s car cleaned when we get back,” said Mac as he got in.

  “Get that laptop started up again, and let’s see what direction he went.”

  Mac started the car, turned it around to face the road, and waited with the engine running while Jonathan got the computer started and brought up the tracking software. It seemed to take an age while everything started up, but eventually two white dots appeared on the screen.

  “He’s headed south on the coast road,” said Jonathan, “about five miles down the road from where we are.”

  Mac spun the wheels in the sand as he put the BMW into gear and pulled out onto the coast road, turning right to follow Sean.

  It was not long before the road turned inland, away from the coast and was now passing through the low coastal hills.

  “Give Roger an update, would you?” said Mac.

  Jonathan called and the phone was answered by Karen.

  “I couldn’t sleep so I came back in,” she said. “What’s the latest?”

  Jonathan related the evening’s events so far including Sean’s trip to the trawler and his spectacular departure.

  “I think Sean’s pretty obviously on his way back to London by a southern route, probably the M4,” said Karen. “If you guys want to pull off and get some breakfast, we’ll make sure we keep an eye on him.”

  “We’ll let you know,” said Jonathan, and he ended the call.

  “What do you think, Mac?”

  “I’m pretty sure he picked up explosives from that trawler,” said Mac. “There could be no other reason for him going out there. He wouldn’t want to assemble the bomb and then transport it a long distance, so he’s probably going to assemble it somewhere in London just before he places it.”

  By now, Sean had turned onto a road that wound through the hills of south Wales. He was on the road to a town called Carmarthen from where he could head east towards London, just over two hundred miles away. He continued to drive in an exemplary manner, even more important now that he had a hundred pounds of explosives in the boot of his car. He was feeling tired now, as were his pursuers. It would be getting light soon and that time of half-light was always a bad time for falling asleep at the wheel.

  “He will have to take a break soon,” said Mac. “It would make a hell of a mess if he crashed with what he’s got on board! As long as we stay within half an hour or so of him, I think we will be OK. He’s got to get some sleep before he starts assembling that bomb.”

  “Don’t forget I would like to get close to Sean to try to pick up
another memory trace,” said Jonathan.

  “There’s a service area right at the start of the M4, a place called Port Abraham,” said Mac. “Let’s see if he stops there. If he does, he will almost certainly go into the restaurant to grab some breakfast and you might be able to catch him in there. There’s another service area at Bridgend, about thirty minutes farther on.”

  Jonathan called Karen to tell her what the plan was. After he ended that call, he looked at the tracking screen on the laptop and saw that Sean was indeed stopping at the Port Abraham service area. When the BMW reached the start of the motorway about five minutes later, Mac increased the speed to eighty miles an hour until he reached the service area, where he pulled off into the car park.

  “I am just going to use the toilets and the shop and then I’ll come back to the car,” said Mac. “I don’t want to risk Sean recognizing my face.”

  Jonathan walked into the restaurant. It was a self-service arrangement and at this time of day, it was serving hot and cold breakfast items. He spotted Sean serving himself a full cooked breakfast and he waited until Sean had paid for his food and taken his tray to a table. With luck, Jonathan thought, Sean will be here for a good thirty minutes, which should be enough time to get a memory trace.

  Jonathan went over to the counter and served himself a full breakfast of sausages, fried eggs, toast and baked beans. When he had paid for his meal, he selected a table giving him a clear view of Sean. He caught eye contact with Sean and put Sean’s brain into seizure, confirmed by Sean’s glazed eyes staring straight ahead.

  Jonathan thought of some keywords. “Explosives.” and “Kings Cross”. The memory stream started to flow.

  I phone my friend Michael O’Leary in Dublin.

  “Michael,” I say. “I need a package for a job over here.”

  “Sure,” says he, “When do you want it?”

  “Tomorrow night would be good,” I say. “I’m sorry for the rush but it’s a special job and the client doesn’t want to wait. I don’t want to upset this client, they could make a lot of trouble for us.”

  “There’s a boat going out of Waterford tomorrow morning and I can get the package on that one for you,” says he. “Usual pick up point?”

  Usual pick up point is three miles off the coast of Aberaeron, just south of Aberystwyth.

  “I’ll be there at midnight tomorrow,” I say.

  “What size package do you want?” says he.

  “Two kilos, usual terms” I say.

  “Payment before shipment,” he says.

  “I will send the cash by express mail today,” I say. “You should get it tomorrow morning before you ship the package.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” says he.

  I will drive over to Aberaeron to meet the trawler. I will leave after lunch tomorrow. When I get the package back to London I will get some sleep and then I will take it out to one of the deserted places to put the units together.

  The memory stream faded out.

  Jonathan made some hurried notes then took a couple of bites of his breakfast and a sip of tea. He looked over to where Sean was sitting quietly eating his own breakfast. Jonathan had some good information but he needed another memory trace from Sean and he did not know if there was going to be another chance to be this close to him.

  He started again, putting Sean into another seizure and thinking of keywords. “Escape.” “Detonation.”

  I am at home in Willesden. The telephone rings and it is Grendan West.

  “The first half of your payment is in your bank account,” says he. “I transferred it this morning.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Now listen carefully,” says he. “You are to deliver the package to its final location at midnight on Saturday. After you have delivered the package, you are to drive overnight to York. You are to leave the company car in the York railway station car park and we will deal with it. Then you are to catch the eight o’clock train to Newcastle on Sunday morning. You will catch the afternoon ferry from Newcastle to Bergen. You are to detonate the package at midnight on Sunday when you are halfway across the North Sea. When you arrive in Bergen, you should lose yourself in Norway for exactly two months. You are to return to Newcastle on the boat that leaves Bergen on March 21st and your car will be waiting for you at the Newcastle Ferry Terminal car park.”

  I am making notes so I will remember everything exactly. Grendan West ends the call.

  Once again, the memory trace faded out but Jonathan had all the information he needed. He quickly wrote down notes of the memory trace and then finished off the remainder of his breakfast Sean was finishing his coffee as Jonathan left the restaurant. He walked back to the car where he found Mac taking a nap. Mac jumped as Jonathan tapped gently on the window. Rubbing his eyes, Mac opened the window.

  “How did it go in there?” said Mac.

  Jonathan said nothing and just opened the notebook at the pages he had written and handed the notebook to Mac. While Mac read the notes, Jonathan walked round the car to the passenger door and got in.

  “Excellent work, Jonathan,” said Mac. “We don’t need to track Sean back to London. We can pick up the trail when he goes out to assemble the bombs this evening. Let’s head home and grab some sleep before the real action starts.” He started the engine and drove out of the car park to join the motorway and continue his journey eastwards through South Wales.

  The day had dawned cloudy but dry and cold, exactly the kind of weather that Mac enjoyed when he was driving. He crossed from Wales into England over the magnificent Severn Bridge. About fifty minutes after passing Swindon, Mac was reaching the outer suburbs of London and he nudged Jonathan awake.

  “Call Karen and let her know what we are doing.”

  Jonathan called Karen again and told her what they planned to do.

  “I’m going to head back to the flat and get showered and changed.”

  Mac made a signal to Jonathan that he wanted to use the phone, and Jonathan handed it over.

  “I don’t think we need the control centre anymore,” said Mac. “You and Roger can get some rest. We’ll see you back at the flat.”

  Mac made his way back to the St. Katharines Way flat through the relatively light traffic of London on a Saturday morning. Jonathan kept an eye on the image of Sean’s street on the laptop, but apart from a couple of delivery trucks and an elderly lady pulling a heavily-loaded shopping trolley, there was no activity of any note.

  Mac pulled the BMW into the assigned parking space for the flat.

  “Bring the laptop in with you,” said Mac as he pulled his bag from the back seat. They walked together across to the front door and pressed the button for the flat, both being far too tired to look for their own key. The door buzzed and they entered the hallway. The lift doors opened and they stepped inside and soon they arrived at the flat. Karen greeted them with a laugh and a hug as they stepped into the flat.

  “I’ve put clean clothes on your beds,” said Karen. “Go jump in the shower and get changed, and I’ll make some coffee and some sandwiches for lunch.”

  Neither Mac nor Jonathan needed any encouragement to do exactly what Karen suggested. Both emerged about twenty minutes later looking and feeling much better.

  “Quite a night,” said Karen as Mac and Jonathan sat on the stools at the kitchen counter and tucked into the variety of sandwiches that Karen had prepared. As they ate, Mac told Karen about what they had seen and what they had found out about Sean.

  “So you think he will go out to wherever he is building the bomb tonight and then he will plant the bomb and make an escape,” said Karen. I’ve been keeping an eye on the CCTV while you’ve been getting changed. No activity yet.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to move before dark,” said Mac, “but if you can keep an eye on him this afternoon I think Jonathan and I ought to get some sleep.”

  “Sure, I’ll keep an eye on him and I’ll wake you up in about four hours,” said Karen.
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  With that, Jonathan and Mac retired to their bedrooms and they both fell asleep immediately.

  Chapter 30