Lethal Promise

by Paul Stretton-Stephens

  “Red, I’m going to hand you over to the TRG soon. Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

  “Will you put in a good word for me? I’ve helped you heaps.”

  “And I know that you’re holding something back from me. I’ve been in this game long enough to know. You spoke with me because you want to stay alive. And you’ve only given me enough to do that. You get nothing more until I get everything. The TRG are on their way. Can you hear the chopper? That’s them, and once they’re here, I’m gone.”

  Jago stood and Red stopped him.

  “No, wait. I have more.”

  Jago had confidently turned his back on Red. He was watching the paramedics load a patient into an ambulance while the police officers were still busy searching and cuffing Red’s men before putting them into the arriving transport.

  Jago returned his gaze to Red. “How much more?”

  “The man I spoke with was wired and receiving instructions through an earpiece – I guess from someone on the plane, as they’d have to be within range. The organisation is extremely wealthy. He said they like to use their wealth for good causes and will do whatever it takes to get what they want.”

  “So, they sound like politicians. They’re two a penny. What’s different about this lot?” asked Jago.

  “The man made them sound fanatical – not exactly terrorists, but close. He talked about the tree felling in the world, the reduced habitats for wildlife, overproduction and extraction from the land, and plans to regenerate land to create more wealth. He asked me if I was interested in investing. They sounded like a bunch of mixed-up, eco, save-the-world nutters to me. I mean, they supply drugs and guns and then want to save the world. That’s weird, right?”

  “Yes, Red, I have to admit that sounds somewhat mixed up. But how would they do this? What plans would they have?”

  “I don’t know the how, when or where. But I do know they’ve been planning for a while and hiding weapons in preparation.”

  “You mean an arms cache?” posed Jago.

  “If that’s what you call it, yeah. Someone got careless once and sent us a message by mistake. It was a bunch of coordinates, a date and a time. We took a look and watched them burying gear in an old farm south of Perth.”

  “What gear?”

  “We kept our distance, but they looked like RPGs, crates of ammo and other weapons all wrapped up.”

  “Where and when was this?”

  “It was about six months ago. The coordinates led us to a farm near the junction of Admiral Road and Old Admiral Lane, near the Bungendore Park. They had a few animals, mainly chooks and horses. Three of us went down to have a look, and we hid in the bushes. They arrived with a flatbed trailer with a small digger on it, a covered truck, and a four-by-four. They cleared the horses out of a stable and tied them to the fence while one of the four men dug up the floor in the stable from the right edge.”

  “What does that mean? Can you explain?” asked Jago.

  Red gesticulated with his hands. “If you were to look at the stable facing the doors, they dug under it from the right side. They cut out what I can only describe as a wedge. The stable floor was concrete, and they dug out the earth from under it. I mean, we could see everything – except their faces; they’d tied scarves around their faces.

  “Once they’d dug the hole, it looked like two of the men were being told what to do by the other guy. They took a load of gear off the back of a truck and placed it in the hole. It was all wrapped in thick polythene, but you could see the shape of the weapons. Then there were crates, metal ammo cans. It was enough to supply an army. Oh, and there was a load of metal stuff – tubes, pipes and things. We couldn’t really make out what they were. They sealed the hole up with corrugated metal sheets and replaced the earth. Then they let the horses back into the stable.”

  “And then what?”

  “They took the digger around the back of the stable and we could hear it working, but we couldn’t see what they were digging. A couple of minutes later, two of the men fetched someone from the truck. He looked like quite a big guy. They’d tied him at the wrists and put a sack over his head. They went behind the stable block, and then we heard excited voices and two shots. Two minutes later, the digger was working again.

  “After about a quarter of an hour the four men went back to the vehicles. They loaded the digger onto the flatbed trailer. One drove off with the digger, another in the truck, and the other two left in a four-by-four.”

  “And what were you going to do with this information?”

  “You never know when information like this will come in handy. We couldn’t very well go and take the stuff, because someone in their organisation knew they had sent us the coordinates by mistake.”

  “No, I guess not. You didn’t happen to see where the four-by-four went, did you?”

  “Of course we did. Do you think I’m stupid or something? We followed from a distance to an old, disused warehouse in a place called Kwinana Beach.”

  “And then what?”

  “It looked as if they were cosy there. You know, someone was inside, ready for them, and slid the big doors open for them to drive inside. Bruce had a sneak peek and saw about four or five men around a table, drinking and laughing. There were a couple of white guys, possibly Yanks; a couple of Asian fellas, maybe Indians; and another guy. Bruce didn’t get a look at his face, but he was medium build with long black hair in a ponytail. And they were all dressed in dark overalls and boots, like the paramilitaries you see on the news.”

  “Well done, Red, I’m impressed. Maybe I will put in a good word for you after all. I’m on my way now, but if you happen to think of anything else, ask them to pass it on to the Brit and it will get to me, I’m sure.”

  With the gang members rounded up, a policeman was waiting at a distance to take charge of Red.

  Jago walked over to join the others with Red at his side. He handed Red over to the waiting policeman. “He’s all yours, and for what it’s worth, he’s been extremely cooperative.”

  “Thanks. I’ll make a note of that on my report.”

  Jago called in the chopper and they gave him an ETA of five minutes. Then he called Abi. “It’s me. You can confirm those flights now and send us the details for some shopping. We’ll be flying out of Perth, yes?”

  “Yes, Boss, but I might not get you there until tomorrow night on a commercial flight.”

  “Don’t forget, we’d prefer first class, nothing less. We have to create an image. When will we need to be at the airport?” asked Jago.

  “Wait one, Boss … The flight should leave at 0110 hours, so you will need to be there at 2310 hours tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good to me. How long is the flight?”

  “It’s just over thirteen hours, with a one-hour stop-off at Changi Airport in Singapore.”

  “Okay, I’m going to call off now as I’d like to make a quick call to check how Hunter and Linda are doing.”

  Chapter 20

  As their helicopter arrived, Jago, Mikey and Fi checked their equipment, before boarding.

  The pilot greeted them. “Hi, guys. It looks like you’ve been having some fun. Why don’t you sit back and relax, and we’ll have you back in Perth in just over an hour?”

  “Thanks, we could do with a short break,” said Fi as she strapped in and stretched out her long legs.

  Jago spent most of the flight briefing Fi and Mikey on the information given by Red.

  Mikey said, “I need to make a few calls to see what those upstairs want to do about this. They may want to raid the farm as a follow-up to the massacre, or they may want to sit on it and see what happens. It’s in their hands.”

  “For what it’s worth, my money’s on raiding it. We’ll gather a lot of intelligence from anything that’s left in the cache, which we can’t get if we sit and watch, and time is of the essence. I’ll do it myself if necessary,” replied Jago impatiently. Then he thought about his words. “Mind you, it could
be a contrivance.”

  “How come?” asked Mikey.

  “Think about it. A real thinker, a strategist, could leak the coordinates well in advance, knowing the Deans would be a little curious. They plant the goods; we get the intel. The bad guys know that after the attack the security services will be keen to find the goods and extract them as part of their ongoing investigation. I mean, finding an arms cache in your own backyard can make or break you. If you publicise it when you’ve found the cache, you’ll look like a good, reactive force. But questions will still be asked about why you didn’t know about the cache before the massacre. Then there’s always the coup that the bad guys are after: leak the location, entice eager investigators, rig the gear and take out more law enforcement.”

  “So, what do you suggest?” asked Mikey.

  “I’d send in the bomb squad and keep it quiet for now.”

  Mikey reached for his mobile.

  “Oh, Mikey, while you’re on the phone, can you get a gang member named Rich Cassidy checked out. He likes watches, and, according to Red, he should be staying with his mum in somewhere called Peppermint Grove. If we get time, we could do with chatting with him.”

  “Are you sure he said Peppermint Grove?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “It’s just that it’s a fairly salubrious area, and that doesn’t quite match a member of the Deans. It’s odd. But I’ll ask.”

  Mikey hurriedly made a series of calls on his secure phone while Jago briefed Fi about their next move.

  ***

  It was two thirty in the morning and all was quiet in Hunter’s house. Jago had taken Fi with him to the house, as there was a spare room for her. They had eaten a little, had a couple of beers and hit the sack early.

  Fi woke with a start. Jago was shouting and screaming something at the top of his voice. Wearing shorts and a vest, Fi grabbed her gun, ran out along the corridor and burst into Jago’s room.

  She found him sitting bolt upright, shouting loudly, “NO, NO! GET DOWN, ON THE GROUND, NOW! REBECCA, GET DOWN NOW!”

  As she looked around the room, checking for signs of an intruder, Jago repeated his cry. Fi relaxed, made her pistol safe and placed it on top of a cupboard near the door, and then walked over to Jago. The blinds were open and she could see in the half-light that he was perspiring. She looked at his contorted face, at the anguish and the pain there, and sat beside him. She reached around his shoulders and pulled him to her.

  “Boss? It’s okay, it’s Fi. I’m here. Come on, wake up now. You’re dreaming.”

  He called out again and made to move his arms. Fi held him tighter. “Shush, shush. Come on, it’s time to wake up. Enough of that. It’s just a dream.”

  As Jago nestled his head into Fi’s shoulder, he stirred. Besides the perspiration, tears were streaming down his face onto Fi’s vest.

  Jago mumbled something inaudible.

  “What did you say, Boss? I didn’t quite catch that.”

  “Sorry to wake you, Fi. I had a terrible dream. After all the years and all the things I’ve been involved in, I don’t normally get them. But losing Rebecca’s changed that, I guess.”

  “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. It’s natural to be upset after losing somebody so close. I’m just glad I’m here for you. Would you like a drink?”

  “Thanks, Fi, that would be good. A black coffee, if that’s okay?”

  “Sure, no problem. It’ll be ready in five.”

  “Okay. I’ll just grab a quick shower and I’ll be right out.”

  Fi picked up her pistol on her way out to the kitchen.

  Jago swung himself around, ready to get out of bed. He rubbed his face with both hands, then ran them through his hair. He rose to his feet and made for the shower.

  Fi, meanwhile, was in the kitchen preparing drinks when Abi messaged: Call me when you wake.

  Fi called Abi.

  “Hi, Abi. You messaged?”

  “Have I got my hours wrong or something? Why are you awake?”

  Fi made an excuse. “Oh, I couldn’t sleep. It’s really hot here, and those damned insects make a hell of a noise. What have you got for us?”

  “We’ve been liaising with ASIS regarding our man Rich Cassidy. He’s a Brit expat and also served in the military as an armourer. He’d be well placed to set up the fixed-mounted machine gun, although we’re not sure if he would have the technical ability to link it up to the computer and console. It’s possible, but he may have needed outside help.”

  “Red told us his mum lives in somewhere called Peppermint Grove. Apparently, it’s quite a plush neighbourhood. Do you have anything on the mother, Abi?”

  “She married an Australian ten years ago and emigrated, becoming a resident seven years ago. They live in Peppermint Grove Beach, not Peppermint Grove, Perth. The husband has since died and she’s inherited everything.

  “Rich Cassidy is the eldest of three. He has two married sisters, both of whom live in the UK. He appears to be single and has led the life of a drifter since he left the services four years ago. Intel indicates that he found himself a family in the Deans’ bikie gang, and that he has several minor convictions and one for assault on a police officer.”

  “I think we have enough time to see if he’s at home,” said Fi.

  Jago walked into the kitchen and heard the tail end of the conversation.

  “Is that Abi on the phone?”

  “Yes, Boss. You need anything?”

  “Ask her if we’ve heard anything about the DNA on the mugs at the old warehouse. I want to see if anything comes up that will match with Cassidy and place him at the scene.”

  Fi leaned over the counter, passing Jago his coffee. He took it and mouthed ‘thank you’ and walked over to the lounge, slumping on the sofa while Fi relayed the question to Abi.

  “We’ve heard nothing yet, Fi, but we’ll chase it, especially if you’re going to pay him a visit. Test results show that all the rest of the items – vaping kit, digital radio and headphones – belonged to the deceased.”

  “Okay, Abi, that’s about it for now then.”

  “Fi, is the boss nearby? I wanted to ask how he’s holding up. You know, we’re all gutted for him.”

  “I couldn’t really say,” replied Fi coyly.

  “Okay, I get it. He’s close by. Just answer yes or no then. Is he coping?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think he needs to be out of there and back home?” asked Abi.

  “No, absolutely not. Too much to do.”

  “Okay, let us know if either of you needs anything.”

  “Will do, Abi. Speak later.”

  Fi ended the call and looked over at Jago, who was sipping his coffee and staring into space.

  “Boss, Abi and Bernie think Cassidy could be in on it. He’s ex-services, and guess what his role was?”

  “Go on, let me guess: he wasn’t a blanket stacker.”

  “Correct. He was an armourer.”

  Upon learning this piece of information, Jago seemed to perk up.

  “Call Mikey and get him to meet us near Peppermint Grove with the exact address,” said Jago.

  Fi was focused on a map on her phone screen.

  “Abi has just said the address is actually in Peppermint Grove Beach. I’ve just checked the distance, and it’s a two-hour drive from here. We’ve got plenty of time, though; it’s only two fifty-five a.m. now.”

  “Let’s eat something and get ready then.”

  “I’ll call Mikey. He will be pleased.”

  Chapter 21

  Jago and Fi arrived at the rendezvous first. It was a bridge on Mallokup Road on the route to Peppermint Grove Beach. They waited and wandered around close to the vehicle as dawn slowly illuminated the sky with a blue morning haze. They didn’t speak, each lost in their thoughts.

  Fi stopped near a fence, beyond which were green bushes and scrubland. She listened to the unfamiliar birdsong and other sounds alien to her ears.

  Jago lean
ed against the vehicle, watching the road. He was eager to get to work. He wasn’t impatient, just focused and not wanting to waste time. Truth was, he wanted to exact revenge on those responsible for the deaths of Rebecca and the others. He wouldn’t have considered himself a vengeful man before this tragedy. But all that had changed – he’d changed, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to fulfil his lethal promise.

  A vehicle turned the corner. The driver flashed his lights. It was Mikey.

  Mikey was driving a silver Toyota Land Cruiser. He alighted from the vehicle, and to Jago and Fi’s surprise, he looked dressed and ready for action, in black combat fatigues, boots, a lightweight, multi-pocketed shirt and a utility belt. He was wearing body armour and a holstered sidearm, and he had an MP5 slung over his shoulder.

  “Well well, Mikey, you do look ready for battle!”

  “If someone had told me on our last little jaunt I needed to be ready for battle, I would have been. So, this time I’ve come prepared, as I normally would. I hope that you approve?”

  He stepped forward to shake Jago’s hand, and then turned to shake Fi’s.

  “I approve. What do you think, Fi?”

  “I think it suits you, Mikey. You should get geared up more often,” she laughed.

  “Hilarious, I’m sure. Shall we look at Peppermint Grove Terrace and the house plan for number 190?”

  For the next ten minutes, Mikey explained the layout, and the three devised a plan of attack that would draw minimal attention.

  “The house is virtually at the end of the beach. It’s on a curve with open land opposite. There are properties to the right side and rear. To the left is a new road, and there are three empty plots on that road, so plenty of open land again. It’s a single-storey bungalow with a very large garage and granny annex at the rear. It’s possible that Cassidy is in the granny annex. We won’t know until we get there. I suggest that we tiptoe and have a look at the annex first before approaching the house.”

  “I think you’re right, Mikey, we need to look at the annex first. Do we know what he drives?” asked Jago.