Euston Towers
6-05 p.m.
April 19th
Jack sat back in his office chair as if stung by a hard slap in the face. The prime minister’s call had been a shock.
He called Magda from her office and dictated an all personnel e-mail. He registered her shock as she left to send it. He rang the duty team offices and then made his way to the board room on his floor.
Ten minutes later Jack Fulton was sat at the head of an oval polished table in a neat plain room. At one end on the wall above Jack’s head was a black and white photo of Churchill and at the other, on the wall next to the door, was a black and white photo of Daniel Trevelyan, the first head of DIC. Jack was lost in thought when the door opened and the duty team members came in.
David McKie sat on an upholstered wood frame chair at the door end of the table. Liam, Tony, Ellie, Terry and Jaz followed and sat in places around the table and finally Diane walked in and stood behind Jack, after placing a laptop on the table.
“I have bad news I’m afraid. I’ve heard about a meeting at number ten between the P. M and the Home office minister Tarquin Robinson. The P. M has decided that DIC active duty rota teams are to be stood down and arms bearing and diplomatic rights are to be suspended pending an investigation…”
There was a series of exasperated and angry comments from the team and Jack held his hand up. Silence followed.
“The home office minister is concerned about mistakes made and use of DIC information and identity passes to access Downing Street. There’s to be an investigation”
There were no remarks after this. Each of the team knew that the assassin had got in on their watch. They had all seen the news footage and thanked God that the bomb hadn’t gone off properly.
“The thing is that it may be a plot to discredit us. We’ve got this tape and it does show a link between Robinson and Sternway.” Jack fiddled with the mouse pad and the file played clearly in the room.
“You’re a lovely lady Mrs Robinson and people like you do scare me a little, but you tell Tarquin that it will happen in the next hour, as arranged, and if he doesn’t show some backbone he’ll regret it.“
“That’s it then. This links Robinson to Sternway. They planned to have the P.M. killed and they can cover it up. They’re just trying to blame us and take the heat off themselves. You need to take this to the P. M!” David was very excited, animated and not a little angry.
“David this only tenuously links the men, it doesn’t constitute cast iron proof. I wish it did, but it doesn’t. I will play it to the P.M. at my meeting with him and Robinson at eight tonight, but you must expect our service to be rendered inactive until this has been fully investigated.”
McKie rose from his chair.
“For the love of God Jack can’t you see Robinson and Sternway are linked and that means they might have engineered Cole’s death to put Robinson in place.”
“David you need to be careful what you say. It’s an obvious notion, but there’s no proof.” Diane’s voice was soothing she knew how he felt.
“There’s a trail of dead bodies, innocent dead I might add, and you say there’s no proof. We need to confront them. They must pay for this!” David’s voice wasn’t a shout, but a loud firm imperative tone made his anger clear.
“It will be done by investigation David.” Diane said quietly
“They’ll fudge that and it’ll take years and in the meantime DIC won’t be watching them.” David slapped his forehead. “Of course! That’s what they want! Can’t you see?”
Jack ignored the remark. He had had the thought himself, but had no way to prove it. He needed to end the meeting and plan for eight O clock meeting at Downing Street.
“I’ll need you to take your weapons to the armoury before you leave the building. It’s late tonight so I suggest you stop over and end your duty rota time tomorrow.”
“That’s it? That’s all?” David looked around exasperated.” Dear God are we not going to make a fight of this? We’re just going to quietly fold?”
He pushed back his chair and headed for the door.
“David…” Jack spoke as David reached the door and opened it, McKie paused. “Calm down. We’ll sort this out. I know you’re angry, but don’t do anything rash.”
“No I won’t Jack. I think about everything very carefully before I act. That’s why you hired me. Brains not brawn remember.” David left the room.
All the other team members looked at each other in concern for David.
“I can’t blame him for being angry, but we have to do this carefully and within the rule of law.” Diane spoke to the remaining team members. “Clear?”
They all nodded and the meeting broke up. Diane stayed behind to talk tactics for the eight O clock meeting with the P.M. and Robinson.
In the duty team kitchen David McKie made a coffee and looked out over London. His eyes were hard and showed a process of mental calculation in their occasional flickers from the sky line to the kettle. By the time his coffee was made up so was his mind. He took the lift down to his duty team office. He was damned if they’d get away with all this on his watch. He picked up the phone.
“Hello decryption? It’s David McKie. I’ve got a job for you.”
MI6Safe House
London
6-10 p.m.
April 19th
Stanton started to come round. He’d walked into the house, one man in front and one behind. He’d been hit on the back of the head and had fallen forwards into a hard blackness.
It was a bare room. Stanton went to rise and found that he couldn’t move. He was tied by his arms and legs to a wooden dining chair. His arms were behind his back, each arm tied at the wrist to each upright support of the chair. The back of his head ached.
Looking around the room, which was in half light with curtains closed, he could see a musty green carpet, dust all around him and in the corner a table. He could hear voices in the distance. On the table was the laptop case with the Browning pistol and scooped out laptop inside. Next to that was the Sig220 in its holster and Bill’s beige coat.
Stanton listened carefully. There was no sound of traffic, but he could hear distant voices. The voices began to approach, coming it seemed up towards him; he was upstairs somewhere.
He’d been betrayed and he knew it. Used and betrayed. He gathered himself for a session of torture, but he wasn’t sure what he knew that they wanted to know. He ran his mind over the last few days. It hadn’t been a real bomb of that he was sure. They seemed interested in the information about the DIC and very happy about the disk. He realised that he and the others had been used. They probably wanted any last scraps of information he had.
These people had wanted to get DIC in the open. Stanton knew that he’d exceeded their expectations. Spencer had known DIC existed and he’d worked for MI6, so UK security services knew DIC existed, but Spencer had said they weren’t able to identify who and where. These people weren’t out to get the Prime Minister, it had been a lure and he and the other, now dead assassins had been bait.
Two men entered the room, Brook and Telford. Brook had his jacket off and Stanton saw a waist band holster with a snub nose Smith and Wesson 38 ‘Night Guard revolver. He’d knocked off at least two MI6 agents in his work for various groups around the world, groups trying to avoid the scrutiny of British Secret Service.
Telford was unarmed.
Brook saw the look on Stanton’s face a, look of understanding.
“That’s right Stanton. MI6. I can see you understand now.”
“I take it I don’t get my million pounds and safe exit then.”
Brook laughed and then a third man entered the room. He was a tall thin snake like man and he carried a chair and a big black square bag made of faded and worn leather.
Stanton eyed him warily and Joe looked at Stanton with eyes that Stanton felt looked right into him. Joe put the chair and the bag down and sat in front of Stanton.
“We want to know everything you learnt about DIC, everything you saw on the computer.”
“It’s all on the disk.”
“There might be more in that head of yours.” Joe leant forward and tapped Stanton’s head with his for finger.
“I didn’t see much at all.”
“No? Well I need to be sure.”
Joe looked at Telford who opened the bag and took out a piece of equipment. There were pads and wires and brown wooden box with a dial. Telford walked over to the wall and plugged in the long lead.
Stanton braced himself. Electric shock torture! He’d take a few ‘shots’ and make up some stuff. He ran images and information from the DIC network through his mind, trying to pick out useful stuff.
Brook took a pair of scissors and cut Stanton’s black T-shirt open then he undid Stanton’s trousers pulling them down to his thighs, as far as he could go with Stanton’s legs tied to the chair.
Stanton said nothing, protest was useless and fear was for children. Stay mentally sharp, eat the pain and plan a way out.
Pads with wires attached were put on him. One was put over the solar plexus and the other was put on the skin of his abdomen, just above the pubic hair line of his groin.
Telford lit a cigarette, but all of them heard the door downstairs open and close and Telford dropped the cigarette and ground it into the mouldy green carpet.
There was a footfall on the stairs, the door opened and a fourth man stood in the room. He was out of place in the dirty, dusty, dilapidated old bare room. He had highly polished black brogues, a neat dark blue three piece pin stripe and oiled, thinning black hair. There was a red silk handkerchief poking in a shiny peak from his top pocket.
“Hello Trevor.” The voice was clear and crisp, neat and slicing in its enunciation. “You don’t mind if I call you Trevor do you?”
Stanton looked into the cold ‘telescopic eyes’. Sternway continued.
“I feel I know you so well from your file. I’m very pleased with your work.”
“I’d hate to see the way you treat those who fail you.”
“Cobb and Mason failed me. You can take them as an average example.”
Stanton knew it all long. He made a vow. If he got free, if he had his chance he was going to kill this man. Sternway saw it in his eyes.
“Proceed Joe and make it painful to start, no use wasting time.”
The electric shocks were powerful and with the pads over two of his Chakra points, or nerve centres, the pain was immense, surging through him almost blotting out all thought.
There were three such shocking surges and Stanton sat writhing in the chair for half a minute before he felt the pain die down.
“Now about DIC and all you know please or there’ll be more of that.”
“What do you want with DIC?”
“They’re an inconvenience. They came close when your friend Spencer did a little job for me and they cause no end of trouble. Only the PM, Home Office Minister and the Queen, oh and some of the royal family, know who the head person is. We know about their existence, but we don’t know where they are and how much coverage they’ve got, which is pretty damned annoying when you’re trying to change things in your own favour through underhanded means, which you can imagine is what I do. Your friend Spencer, who used to work for me, was nearly caught by them when we did for Robert Cole. Right now we’re trying, with the help of a certain Mr Robinson, Cole’s replacement, no coincidence, to get rid of them for good. Then we’ll be free of their meddling influences and sticking their ‘tuppence’ in every time we want to make a change.”
“I see, if that’s all why didn’t you say? Let me go and I’ll tell you everything I found out.” Sternway smiled a crocodile smile.
“That’s what I love about mercenaries Joe so easy to get round to your way of thinking. Yes we’ll let you go; in fact well we’ll help you go. I don’t want you getting caught.”
Stanton gave them details about the building, what he’d seen on the computer. Telford drew a sketch from Stanton’s description of the lobby. Stanton had seen names for floors on the disk and assumed the boss, Fulton, was on the top floor. He told them about the cameras in the building.
He made up fake facts about security from having seen the foyer and finally told them about how he’d got the badge and what was in the loft in Dover and Bill’s house in Westminster. When he was finished Sternway smiled.
“Well done Trevor you know you really are quite the most dangerous man I’ve ever met and…” He was interrupted by a phone ringing. Sternway took the orange coloured Bic cell phone from his inside jacket pocket. “Yes. We’re just about ready… within the next hour.”
He rang off and put the phone in his jacket again. He suddenly patted his left jacket pocket and looked at Stanton.
“The green Bic cell phone?”
“Coat.” Stanton nodded with his head in the direction of the table.
Telford emptied the pockets. There was the lime green cell phone and a DIC pass. He picked up the pass and shoulder holster with the Sig 220.
“Well goodbye Trevor. I’m sure we won’t meet again.”
Sternway left the room, Joe and Brook followed and Telford left after checking the ropes on Stanton.
Downstairs Sternway gave his instructions to Telford who left on what was to be a tricky mission. Sternway told Joe and Brook what to do and left for home.
Upstairs Stanton knew he was going to be killed. They were down stairs arranging it, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could hear the voices. He wiggled the chair, it was quite old. His hands were tied to the upright struts and his legs to the legs of the chair. Stanton bunched his muscles and tightened them. He balanced the chair on the two back legs, tipping the chair back and bounced slightly, but heavily, trying to avoid noise. There was a sharp crack from the two back legs. They must have heard because the front door opened and closed and there were hurried feet on the stairs.
With the legs bent inwards at the back Stanton bounced and sat on the chair heavily. The back legs gave way and the front legs snapped as he sat down. Stanton quickly stood up legs free, even if the front chair legs were still tied to his shins. He ran backwards, using his toes to counteract the low level of his trousers, at the closed door with all his might, bracing himself for the pain on his arms. Just as Brook and Joe arrived at the door and pushed it Stanton hit it and the chair back broke away from the seat and at the same time preventing the men from entering. Stanton wiggled free from the back of the chair, braced against the door. With his hands free instinct kicked in and he stepped to one side as three shots perforated the door panels where he had been standing.
Brook kicked the door in and stepped into the room. Stanton was behind the door and kicked it into Brook, stepped around grabbed Brook’s gun hand, extended into the room, slammed his hand into Brook’s elbow crook, grabbing the gun hand and pushing the revolver under Brook’s chin. Stanton got his finger to the trigger. A single shot slammed up through Brook’s chin, passed through his skull and embedded in the ceiling. Stanton wrenched the pistol from Brook’s grip.
Joe had left his gun in the black Jaguar under the seat. He ran down the stairs to the front door, but a single shot from Stanton at the top of the stairs hit him in the small of the back paralysing him and he slumped into the door, no power in his legs.
Stanton did up his trousers. He carried Joe into the room upstairs in a fireman’s lift and dropped him on the floor. Brook was on his knees groaning and twitching, alive but half brain dead. Stanton walked over and shot him point blank in the chest with the last chamber of the revolver. Brook collapsed, twitching; falling in front of Joe’s terrified eyes.
Stanton stripped Joe’s jacket and shirt off and put them on. They were a tight fit, but better than his split T Shirt. Stanton gathered up the electrical equipment and sat down next to Joe.
“You’re going to give me a lot of useful information. I’ve got all night. We won’t bother with anything below the waist, but if you tell me what I want to know I swear I’ll leave you alive.” He tapped Joe’s head with his forefinger. “Let’s see what in that head of your shall we.”
He attached the pads.
Joe fought as hard as he could, but knowing he was paralysed weakened his resolve. He took half an hour to break down with the pain and when he did Stanton had all the information he needed.
As promised he left Joe alive, but he didn’t call an ambulance and he didn’t intend to. It was seven in the evening when Stanton left the house with a loaded revolver, a silenced nine millimetre Browning and the keys to a Nissan Micra, which he quickly found.
London Euston tower
7-10 p.m.
April 19th
Ellie leaned into the proffered kiss from Tony. They were in the shared kitchens of the duty teams in Euston Tower. Ellie decided that on their last day of duty rota she would cook Tony dinner. There was a casserole dish in the oven and the smell of Coq Au Vin permeated the room.
Tony broke away from the tender and soft kiss first.
“That was nice. Do that again.”
Ellie kissed him again, longer this time and more passionately. There was a cough from the doorway. They broke from their embrace suddenly. It was Jack Fulton.
“Sorry to bother you two. I’ve got a bit of a problem.”
“Yes boss.”
“Liam was in the duty office and David was talking angrily about Sternway. Liam thought nothing of it, but David went to get a cup of tea and decryption called to tell David that his five minute access to the MI6 network was ready. Liam said he went to get some dinner and when he came back David was looking at details on Sternway. Then David grabbed his coat and left. Liam said he was still armed”
Tony and Ellie showed their concern.
“Any idea where he is?” Tony asked.
“That’s the thing our DIC listener at Sternway’s house has just phoned to say that David McKie is parked in a car across the road from Sternway’s house.”
Ellie put her hand to her mouth in shock.
“I think he’s very worked up. I want you two to go and talk him round. You and he get on well Ellie and Tony has experience in talking people ‘down’ if you know what I mean.” They both nodded.
“Do we go armed?”
“No. DIC diplomatic and armed status has been suspended indefinitely.”
Tony and Jaz left in a hurry. Jack noted the smell of casserole and promised himself he’d keep an eye on it. He leant against the kitchen side. He was worried. ‘Unstoppable’ that’s what the Lympstone Commando base trainers had said about David McKie.
In the car Ellie frowned at Tony who pulled his pistol and holster from a Tesco bag. He checked it and armed it. They sped away with Ellie half jokingly calling Tony a ‘thrill seeker’ and a ‘renegade’.