Shades of Loyalty

by Paul Stretton-Stephens

  Jed helped Cristóbal to his feet and leant him against the wall. He then walked away for about a metre, turned, drew the pistol from his waistband, promptly removed the safety and fired another round which propelled straight into Cristóbal’s upper right arm. He screamed in agony and dropped to the floor, rolling around, writhing in pain.

  “Hey, calm down. It’s only a flesh wound, nothing serious.”

  He sat him up again, with Cristóbal screaming in pain.

  “It hurts, eh? Well, I have no painkillers, so you’ll just have to grin and bear it, won’t you? Hold still while I dress the wound. We don’t want any major loss of blood, do we? Or anything worse, like an infection.”

  Jed cut the sleeves from Cristóbal’s jacket and shirt, and examined the entry wound.

  “You know, that’s quite a clean wound. It’s taken a little chunk of flesh right off at a slight angle. It must have been the way you were standing. Don’t you think?”

  “You are crazy! You’re a madman! I demand that you get me to a hospital.”

  “Oh no, you’ve got me wrong. I’m not crazy. Well, the doctors tell me that I have a little PTSD. I just really miss my mate that you killed slowly on video. No, I’m not a madman. I’m just plain mad at you. And I’m exacting some good old-fashioned revenge, justice … call it what you will. You know, an eye for an eye and all that.”

  Jed looked at the state of Cristóbal, fixed his latest wound with copious amounts of iodine and alcohol, and applied a tight bandage.

  “We don’t want you dying just yet, do we? Now let’s stand you up as best as we can.”

  Jed heaved his man aloft and leant him against the wall again.

  “Now, don’t you move. This won’t take a minute.”

  Cristóbal pleaded, “No, no more please!”

  Jed paused and replied in a furious onslaught.

  “YOU’RE PLEADING WITH ME? WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO PLEAD, YOU ANIMAL? YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS TO ANYTHING ANYMORE. YOUR RIGHTS HAVE BEEN CANCELLED. HOW DARE YOU PLEAD, AFTER ALL THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE SUFFERED AND DIED AT YOUR HAND. YOU’RE GOING TO PAY!”

  Jed, almost frothing at the mouth, took a deep breath and composed himself. He stepped away, aimed at Cristóbal’s torso, removed the safety and then adjusted his aim, firing twice in rapid succession. Both bullets penetrated the same leg. One in the inner thigh and the other in the lower leg.

  The thunderous impact of the rounds hit Cristóbal like a jackhammer. His torturous screams grew louder and dissipated unheard into the night sky. He collapsed. Pain stung intensely throughout his body, and he lost consciousness.

  Jed cut away the trouser leg and applied iodine, alcohol and dressings to the wounds. He removed the belt from Cristóbal’s waist and used it as a tourniquet to his upper thigh, one hand-width from the groin where the femoral artery was shallow enough to be compressed.

  Jed changed into black clothing from his haversack and pulled a black balaclava over his head. He tried it on his face, and it fitted snuggly. Jed then rolled it up and wore it as a small hat. He placed his old clothes in a pile and, using Cristóbal’s lighter, set fire to them against the wall in the centre of the garage. He waited until the flames died down and strode back over to Cristóbal. He took out his mobile and took a variety of photos before sending them to Marti and calling him.

  “Marti, I’m sending you some photos of our man here. Can you make sure that they end up where we planned for them to go?”

  “Sure thing, Jed. How is it going?” replied Marti as he opened the photos one by one, their images giving him the answer to his question.

  “I expect that you can see that from the photos, right?”

  “Yep, I can see that you’ve been busy. Talking of which, everything is set up for our supplier tomorrow.”

  “Supplier? What supplier?”

  “Jed, you know — Irene. Are you alright?”

  “Oh, Irene. I remember. Yes, I’m good, I just haven’t slept well lately.”

  “Are you coming back tonight? If you are, you can get your head down early and be ready for tomorrow.”

  “I should be able to get back tonight. It’ll depend upon the drop. Look, I’ll speak later. Just make sure that those photos are placed where they need to be.”

  “Okay, Jed, will do. See you later.”

  Jed rummaged through the car where, fortunately, Cristóbal’s bodyguard had been reasonably well prepared. They had extra water, food, magazines, ammo and a basic first aid kit. Jed grabbed a couple of bottles of water, took a sip himself and poured the remaining contents over Cristóbal’s face. He gradually regained consciousness.

  “How are you feeling, Cristo? I bet it hurts like hell.” He patted the wounded leg. “You see, I’ve patched you up. Now, we’re going.”

  “To a hospital?” Cristóbal managed to ask desperately.

  “No, not a hospital.”

  He smiled, grabbed hold of Cristóbal’s left arm and helped him into the rear seat. He made and applied a makeshift blindfold from the sleeve of Cristóbal’s jacket.

  “Now, you just sit there and make yourself comfortable. It won’t be long.”

  Jed left the car park on the corner of White’s Row and Commercial Street, near the Christ Church Spitalfields. It was 22:00 hours, and Jed thought that his journey would keep him in Cristóbal’s company for another twenty to twenty-five minutes at most.

  “Cristóbal, we’ll part company shortly. Is there anything that you want to say to me?”

  “What do you mean ‘part company’ exactly?”

  “You’ll see, Cristóbal, you’ll see. I just wanted to say that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my time with you. Oh, and while you were out of it, I took the liberty of taking some photographs of you. Some people will obviously think that you are dead and I assume that a power struggle will ensue back home.”

  “You can’t! What have you done? You’ve ruined me!”

  “Oh no, not yet I haven’t. I haven’t even started to ruin you yet. I’ll tell you a little secret, shall I? I’m going to drop you off at New Scotland Yard where I think that someone in there will be very interested in finding you on their doorstep. Now, this can play out in at least two scenarios. There may be more, but let’s stick to two. Number one: your people think that you are dead and a power struggle takes place. In this instance, you will lose all of your assets and cease to exist. If you did turn up, by some divine miracle, they’d kill you on sight as you’d threaten their new-found power.” Jed slowed to ensure that he could tell Cristóbal his theory. “Now, scenario two is more interesting. Your people think that you’re dead, but in fact, you’re working with New Scotland Yard and the drug enforcement agencies. Now you’re dead on sight, and it’s highly probable that someone, somewhere will put a lucrative contract out on your head.”

  Cristóbal remained silent, absorbing Jed’s theories and mulling over his own through the intense pain.

  “You might be wondering how your people will find all of this information out? I can see that, but rest assured I have the means to leak the information to them in a believable way, a way that supports your bodyguard’s story when he returns home. You’ll never know if the contract is worth it. I might just carry it out myself for some pocket money. What do you say to that, Cristóbal?”

  Jed turned at Blackfriars onto the Embankment.

  “It won’t be long now. Oh, and when I stop, there won’t be time for any goodbyes.”

  They passed the Embankment metro station, on past Whitehall Gardens, Horse Guards Avenue …

  “That’s it we’re here, get ready.”

  Jed pulled the balaclava over his face, steered the car into position and screeched it to a halt at the junction of Richmond Terrace and the Embankment, the corner of which held New Scotland Yard’s Headquarters. He leapt out and opened the rear passenger door. He heaved Cristóbal out of the car onto the pavement and fired two shots into the air. Two police officers were already heading his way. He returned to the car and drov
e off into the night.

  Chapter 25 – Discoveries

  “Boss, I’ve got Brett on the secure line for you,” said Abi with a sense of urgency.

  Jago was in his sparse office that overlooked the old playground.

  “Thanks, Abi, put him through.”

  “Jago, are you there, Jago?”

  “Hi Brett, how are things?”

  “Oh, you know how it is, the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing as usual. Anyway, I can’t be on long. I just wanted to give you a name. I’m sorry it’s only part of a name, but it’s something that came up during a discussion the yesterday.”

  “Okay, Brett, any name would be useful, as would where the name came from, if that will help?”

  “Name I have is Jed. I’m not sure which way to spell it, and it came from a South American source. They said this, in their words, ‘strange character’ was in the region about four or five years ago. He’s a white Brit. I’m afraid that’s all I have. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

  “I appreciate that, Brett. You take care now, and thanks.”

  Jago ended the call and strolled over to Abi and Bernie. He observed how well the pair were working together. It was almost a shame to stop them.

  “Abi, Bernie, I have a possible name for you from the South American connection. Name dates back to about four or five years ago. The name is Jed. Now, we don’t know if that is spelt with a J or a G, so we’ll have to be creative in our searches.”

  “Okay, Boss, we’ll feed him into the system. Does anyone know what Jed stands for?”

  “I think Ged, as in the version with a G, is a short form of Gerald or Gerard. But I don’t know what Jed with a J stands for. The only thing that I know of that is similar is the Return of the Jedi.” He stopped in realisation. “My god, that’s it!”

  The others looked at him oddly, wondering what he was talking about.

  “The Return of the Jedi.”

  The pair looked blankly at each other.

  “It’s a Star Wars film. Didn’t the character we’re looking for have the nickname Star Wars?”

  It was evident that neither Jago nor Abi had any knowledge of the Star Wars franchise.

  Jago piped up first. “Bernie, we’re glad that you’re here. We would never have arrived at that conclusion in a million years, would we, Abi?”

  “Nope, I’ve never seen a Star Wars film, and I wouldn’t know any of their titles. So, hats off to you Bernie. All we need to do now is find his real name, and then the man himself.”

  “I’ll leave it to you, then, shall I?”

  “We’ll let you know when we find him,” Abi replied.

  Abi and Bernie discussed the content for a short while and entered the variables into the system, which was securely linked to some high-powered databases. Bernie always said that the trick with the software was to introduce multiple variables and, as some became ‘fruitless eliminators’ as he called them, the cream of the crop surfaced. His thinking was that it might take a little longer to do this, but you arrived at your destination with a little more accuracy.

  ***

  Jago sat on his desk. In fact, he rarely sat at his desk. He was contemplating Dom’s situation with Irene Grimshaw. Jago was thinking how it might play out. He thought about sending Fi as a remote support and wondered whether to tell Dom or not. He decided not. Picking up his phone, he gave the instruction, “Call Fi.”

  After a couple of short rings, Fi answered. “Hi, Boss. How are things going?”

  “Can you go secure, Fi?”

  “Sure … secure now.”

  “Where are you at the moment?”

  “I’ve just finished meeting one of my contacts. I’m over at Sidcup. Do you need me?”

  “Yes, I’d like you to go over to Tilbury Docks. Dom’s over there at the moment with Irene Grimshaw, at her offices on Dock Road. I want you to go over there as a remote support. Find a place where you can observe Grimshaw’s offices from a safe distance. I’m not going to tell Dom because he’s inside and I’m not sure how secure the place is. Maintain zero contact with Dom unless you have to and keep me posted about anything unusual in and around the offices.”

  “Okay, Boss, will do. Can I ask a question?”

  “Sure, fire away.”

  “Is there something Dom should be worried about here?”

  “I’m not sure. I just have a feeling, and I don’t like having those types of feelings. I’d rather have you go in to support should anything go awry.”

  “I get it, Boss, on my way. Shall I let you know when I’m there and what my position is?”

  “Yes, please do that.”

  “Wilco, ETA thirty-five minutes, traffic permitting.”

  Jago felt a little more at ease. He was more reassured with Fi in place, even though he still had the feeling and it made him uncomfortable.

  I’ve been in this game a long time, he thought, and feelings like that count. They shouldn’t be ignored.

  ***

  Jago entered the control area to find Bernie scanning three screens at once.

  “Seeing as you haven’t spoken to me, you must be after Abi,” said Bernie. “She’s in her room dressing a couple of sores at the mo. But she’s alright.”

  “Are you sure she’s alright?”

  “Yes, she takes it all in her stride. She gets them every now and again and she never complains. Mind you, she’s had a few more lately with all the training that she’s doing. Have you seen her hands?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ll see her when she comes in.” Jago paused. “Have you come up with anything yet?”

  “No, not yet, but I’m working on it. Did you know that Jed is short for Jedidiah? Although there are variations of the spelling which I am using in the mining. I just hope I’m right with this Star Wars nickname thing.”

  “I’m sure that you’re right on track. It’s just a case of having some patience, as it usually is. Why don’t you have a rest? Make a coffee, eat a sandwich or something. I’ll hang on here, and if I see anything I’ll call you.”

  “Really, Boss, that’ll be fantastic. I’ll only be twenty minutes, I promise.”

  “Take your time, Bernie, you’ve been working flat out. Save some time for yourself.”

  “I understand, Boss. It’s just that … well, you know, I love the thrill of the chase, I love finding that hidden piece of information.” He walked in the direction of the kitchen and paused, looking back at Jago. “You know what I mean, don’t you, Boss?”

  “Yes, I know what you mean. Only too well.”

  Jago sat monitoring the screens, his head toing and froing from one to the other, like he was sitting level with the net at Wimbledon. Ten minutes must have passed when one screen came to life with a series of beeping sounds. He viewed the screen carefully, and it had highlighted a name: ‘Jedidiah Slater, male, Caucasian, aged thirty-four and ex-military’.

  “Bernie, Bernie!” called Jago.

  Bernie came running back with a cup in one hand and half a sandwich in the other. The other half was in his mouth.

  “I’m sorry to call you so quickly, Bernie, but this screen came alive with a name and I didn’t want to ruin any of your settings.”

  Abi wheeled herself into the room.

  “What’s all the excitement?” she asked.

  Bernie was still chewing and couldn’t speak, so Jago filled her in.

  “It’s just that a name appeared on the screen. By the way, are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, Boss. Which screen lit up?”

  “This one, why? Does it matter?”

  “Well, that one is linked to the MOD and certain … shall we say, in-house databases. With a bit of luck, the same name will appear on one of these other screens. One is dedicated to financial institutions, DHSS, et cetera and the other to the police and security services. Let’s see what turns up, shall we? In the meantime, we’ll do the usual checks. We’re getting close now, Boss.”

&n
bsp; “I hope so, Abi, I really hope so.”

  ***

  Jago checked the time; it was 11:30 hours. He thought of Rebecca, knowing she would be on her morning break. Jago was unsure as to whether to call her. It was something he never did while at work but she kept popping into his head. He opened his phone and gave the instruction, “Call RAG.”

  The phone rang three times before he got an answer; he knew that she was cautious in answering withheld numbers.

  “Hello, hello, can I help you?”

  “You most certainly can. You can speak to me nicely.”

  She was in a room full of colleagues and tried to hide her excitement. “Oh hi, are you home?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, I still have work to do. I was just thinking about you and realised it was eleven thirty and that you would be on your break. I couldn’t resist calling you.”

  “Give me a minute, and we can talk.” He could hear muffled background noises as she left the room and headed for the stairwell. “I can talk now. What were you saying about not being able to resist calling me?”

  He was different with her. She made him feel different, and that made him speak differently. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Never done what?”

  “I’ve never, ever called anyone I’ve seen while I’m away at work. This is a new experience for me, and one I’m enjoying.”

  “Oh, so I’m a new experience? That’s good to hear. I’m glad I’m not just run-of-the-mill,” Rebecca laughed.

  “You know what I mean,” said Jago with a wry smile. “What I’m trying to say is that I have never felt like this about anyone before, and that’s a new experience. It’s that experience that’s compelling me to call you right now.”

  “Well, if I had your number I’d be calling you every day, but I haven’t, have I?”

  She had mentioned this before and was keen to get his number. He had maintained his professional stance and told her that he was unable to give the number due to his work situation. He didn’t expect her to understand and she didn’t; she occasionally asked from time to time.