Bridging the Gulf (Aka Engulfed)

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  Joan could see both sides of the argument and she was not about to get into a slanging match. She needed to get back to school too. "Maybe you're right, maybe some time apart might do us both some good." She drifted into the lounge and moved towards the window. The streetlight, which had just come on was showing pink; as it warmed it would turn to orange and cast its light into the recesses and dark places of the street. Her eyes were drawn to a parked car, its colour masked by the sodium light, in which sat a solitary figure. It made her feel as if she were being watched. She drew the curtains.

  The following day Joan returned to work. Roy had said that he too would call into the office, if only to sort things out before he left. He had written his resignation many months ago when he was planning everything, he knew it would come to this but he realised he could not leave Drew hanging on any longer. He had supported him long enough. Shortly he would receive a salary from elsewhere, a salary that he planned to use to help fight the cause.

  From his palmtop he retrieved his next note. This would be the final communication he would make in this format. He would post it from Heathrow as he left on Monday. He took the labeller from the drawer and began typing the message which gave very precise instructions for the deposit of the money. To make things more clear he included a photocopy of a plan of the drop area and even the GPS co-ordinates. He checked that the message read correctly and, as he had done previously, carefully wiped the tape and placed it into the envelope with the map. He addressed it to the editor of the ‘Daily Telegraph’. He collected up the label-making machine, his letter of resignation and slipped downstairs. The Subaru car keys were on the table. He would be really sorry to see the car go. He opened the front door, pressed the key fob and the alarm blipped. It was like music to Gary's ears. He sat up and watched. Gary had changed cars, today he was in a white Fiesta van. The Subaru fired first time and moved away from the kerb, purring lightly. A thin plume of white exhaust curled animal-like behind. The Fiesta neither started first time nor purred; the diesel motor rattled into life and followed. Gary assumed correctly that Roy was heading for work. In his mirror Roy noticed the Fiesta pull out behind him and follow him to the traffic lights; his senses told him everything. He stuck exactly to the speed limit and watched. Instead of driving on through the lights he turned right, he knew a long route to work, a route not taken by someone trying to get to that part of Undercliffe, after all why do ten miles when you only have to do three? As he thought, the Fiesta stayed close by.

  Gary should have followed his assumption that Roy was heading for work. He would have been there when he arrived and Roy would not have been any the wiser. He was bored. Watching nothing all day tended to make you overreact and he had, unbeknown to himself, done just that. He had been careless.

  Roy turned into the car park and drove the Subaru next to Drew's car. He went around to the boot and took out the bag containing the letter of resignation and the labeller.

  Emma beamed when she saw him enter. She moved from her desk and kissed his cheek. "I was really worried about you. Did you like my card?" She seemed so young.

  "I thought it was lovely. You really know how to cheer a man up. It's a good job they weren't monitoring my blood pressure."

  "Can we drive out again sometime, Roy?"

  Roy just lifted his shoulders and smiled at her. "Is Drew about?" She pointed to his office.

  ***

  Joan rang Louise from school during her free period. She was concerned that Roy should plan to go abroad without discussing things, particularly after his hospitalisation but she was also upset; although she would not let Roy know, she had seen the card from Emma. If he had not tried to disown it, she would not have felt suspicious. She was convincing herself that he was having an affair.

  "You're still okay for the evening with us? We'll sort things out there. Stop worrying."

  That was easier said than done. She had invested a lot of herself in Roy; she knew that she still loved him a great deal and that he was worth fighting for. If it were another woman she could face that challenge, it was the unknown that she feared more than anything, his distant coldness, his callous, selfish attitude that she found so distasteful.

  Meanwhile, Drew was pleased to see Roy back with him and they discussed the holiday. It came as a shock when Roy handed him the envelope containing a neatly handwritten resignation. Drew simply tore it up. He was not prepared to give up on Roy now, he had fought hard with him, he was a friend and friends do not give in.

  "I might never want to leave Cyprus. I can't say when I'll be back and businesses just don't function like that; you need the stability I can't give. I thank you for the friendship we have and pray to God that it'll shine through any eventuality, but you've got to see this beyond the role of friendship. Please, for me, let me go. You can get salesmen better than me tomorrow at the drop of a hat. If I return feeling better, then I'll hope there'll be something here for me." He held out his right hand and Drew gripped it. "You've been like a father to me, Drew. Thank you."

  "When do you fly out?" Drew moved to his desk and removed two tumblers. He poured two malt whiskeys. "Here's to you, my friend. Keep fighting."

  "I'm doing that, of that you have no fear, no fear at all." He tossed the car keys onto the desk. "Callum in the warehouse would kill for those. I'll go through to say goodbye to the lads and leave through the warehouse door, the walk home will do me good. Say goodbye to Emma for me, we know what she's like!" This time it was Roy's turn to wink at Drew. Before he left the office Drew arranged to take him to the airport. Roy eventually left via the back door in the knowledge that his follower was somewhere out front. He took the footpath to the main road and walked home whistling.

  Gary moved the Fiesta away from the company building, far enough not to be seen but close enough to move should Roy leave. He listened to the radio and drank coffee from a polystyrene cup. "Join the police and see the world," he said to himself. The Fiesta was still there an hour later.

  Chapter Twenty

  The dinner party went well, both Roy and Joan relaxed. There was a great deal of laughter; Louise could tell a good joke. Roy to the outside seemed fine and that confused Joan even more but she was thankful that he was happy. They kissed in the taxi home and made love twice when they arrived home, once aggressively behind the front door soon after it was slammed and the second time more slowly in bed. Thoughts of Emma danced through Roy's mind as they coupled. He must get a grip of himself.

  The Saturday morning was overcast. Joan remained curled in bed as Roy, dressed in some old clothes went into the cellar; there was a good deal of tidying up to be done. All the work on the bombs had been carried out there and he wanted to ensure that no clues remained. The telephone rang.

  "Mr Hanna, is that you? It is Mr Singh from across the road. I'm sorry to be troubling you but I'm worried. For a few days now there have been cars parked on the road and men have been sitting, waiting in them. I wonder if you think we should call the police?"

  "Funny you should say that Mr Singh, I noticed one yesterday." He moved to the window and looked down the road. There it was, a blue Sierra.

  "Leave it with me, I'll sort it out."

  Roy found the number of the local police station and telephoned. He gave his name and address and explained as part of Neighbourhood Watch he would like to report a suspicious car. He gave the registration number and waited a while. He was thanked and informed that they would put someone onto it. Within ten minutes the car had gone.

  He returned to the cellar. Most of the old wire, connectors and paper he threw into his bin in the yard. He swept everything before washing down the work surfaces with bleach. He took from the hook the case containing the night sights and put them on after turning off the light. They worked perfectly. He would need these in Cyprus. He switched on the light and checked the room one last time.

  His next task was his study. He cleared everything away carefully and checked his palmtop, that too would go with him; an id
entical one would stay but it would contain nothing. It would remain on his desk as his had always done. It might give Joan hope that things were as normal.

  The Sunday was strained. They breakfasted late before walking in the local woods. Joan kicked the dry leaves. They chatted and laughed but it was not easy for either. Joan had planned a meal just for the two of them at home, it was a time for re-establishing a foundation, ground rules and confirming their love for each other. That night Roy's mind raced. He loved the woman who was opposite him, illuminated by candlelight, who kissed his hands with true affection; he loved her sensitivity and her strength. Maybe he should simply send the list of remaining bombs to the newspaper, get on with his life, take things less seriously, forget all about trying to get faceless people to understand the invisible problems that he and many others faced. Why should it be up to him? There were surely others far stronger than he, with greater financial and physical resources who could bring this irresponsible government to task, re-dress the balance. He moved to the window. A large white transit van was parked. They were watching him he knew that. They were not sure, otherwise the knock on the door with great force would have come in the night, sniffer dogs and armed police would have swarmed over the place like ants around a nest. They were closing in though. He was now after all, no innocent protester, he was a bomber, terrorist, murderer and blackmailer. He must now see it through to the end and pray that good would prevail.

  He moved back to bed. Joan's body was silhouetted against the dim light. Tears ran down his cheeks. He loved this girl, though at times he pretended he did not. Tomorrow he might be able to put her to the back of his mind and get on with the job he had to do, but in his heart of hearts, he loved her. His tears ran in streams, they were real and he wept for one person, he wept for himself.

  Joan woke first and kissed Roy's mouth sensually. "Promise me you'll look after yourself, promise you'll think of me occasionally and promise me you'll ring and fax. I love you, Roy Hanna, more than you could or will ever know. Remember that."

  He took a deep breath and returned the kiss to keep his tears at bay.

  Roy helped collect all her things together and walked her to the car. The van was still there, its windows mirrored. It was battered and rusty but he knew it was occupied. The directional microphone was picking up every word and it was being recorded.

  Roy turned his back on the van and whispered to Joan, "I'll ring you whenever I can and definitely when I arrive." He slipped his mobile phone into her bag." Keep this with you I could ring anytime. I love you too."

  Joan jumped into her car and started to move away. She stalled it and they both laughed releasing some of the tension. Roy waited until she had turned off the street.

  The police officer in the van called control. He had a hunch that one of them was going somewhere and asked for back up to follow. Lee organised three officers, two in cars and one on a fast motorcycle to follow. All were in radio contact with each other; they used highly secure back-to-back radios. Lee would remain at base to keep overall control. "Tip off the Airport Police at Leeds and Manchester Airports,” he called out to a colleague, “but leave him alone. Check the flights out today, he's probably heading for Cyprus."

  An hour later Drew arrived. He was driving the Subaru. Roy was ready. He loaded the cases into the boot and locked the door. Drew tossed the keys to Roy. "Thought you'd like to drive. Don't scare the shit out of me young man, I've a wife and two horses to support, let alone a massive mortgage."

  The wheels spun and the car moved off rapidly.

  "This is Bravo Two, car, grey Subaru, two people.” and he called out the registration. “Heading towards Eccleshill."

  "With him, Bravo Two." The motorbike had managed to beat the cars. "He's heading towards the ring road, suggest we have a destination of Leeds Bradford Airport. Position at Apperley Bridge, Phil." Phil was driving a Post Office van.

  Roy spotted the bike instantly, the glowing headlight was noticeable for some distance. "Shit Drew, I've forgotten my wallet. Hang on." He indicated and swung the car right and doubled back. The motorcyclist had to continue.

  "Bravo One, Lee, I've just lost him he's turned round heading back towards Bravo Two."

  Lee thumped the table with his fist. "He may have forgotten something. Stay where you are, Simon. Jenny, go to position of Bravo Two. See if he turns up there." He then called Traffic, giving information on the car. "Call if your chaps get any sighting, these cars are as rare as hen's teeth so someone should spot it!"

  "Just check the pocket of my jacket, please Drew, my wallet might be there?"

  Drew leaned into the back and felt the inside pocket of the jacket. He felt the wallet. He put his hand in and pulled it out. "It's here, false alarm!"

  Roy had no intention of returning home. He flicked the car through a number of side streets and was soon heading down the M606 to pick up the M62 to Leeds. He would take the fast route. The traffic would be easier to hide in but still he watched the mirror and stayed in the outside lane away from any parked police vehicles but he saw none.

  They pulled into the short stay car park and Roy let the engine idle as he collected his belongings from the boot, shook Drew's hand and left. "I'll ring you. Give my regards to Bill and look after Joan for me."

  Drew waved and climbed into the car. He moved away and turned left to leave the airport. He would go back through Yeadon. The car turned left at the roundabout and the road dropped through the tunnel built to take the road under the main runway. A motorbike passed going in the other direction, obviously in a hurry. It was Simon, Bravo One.

  Lee in control received notification that the target had arrived at the airport and cancelled the watch from all other units.

  "Simon, how close are you to the airport?"

  "It's in sight, Lee. Do I go in?" He stopped the bike in the 'short stay' and walked towards a traffic warden. He showed his ID card. "I'm outside now, shall I just wait?"

  "The next flight out is the Heathrow Shuttle. I'm assuming he's on that and according to our computer here he's booked on the 14.30 flight to Istanbul. Just stay and make sure he doesn't leave by any other way."

  Simon leaned against the wall, removed his helmet and lit a cigarette. It had not been his best morning.

  ***

  Roy had moved through to the shuttle lounge after checking in his luggage, he would not see it again until Cyprus. He helped himself to a coffee before settling down to read his paper. He glanced round and checked the faces of his fellow travellers before he relaxed. His flight was called on time and he moved through to the gate. He felt excited, he felt as though he was in the game again.

  The flight left on time and was uneventful. Simon waited thirty minutes and then trawled the airport but there was no sign. The Heathrow police would check his debarkation and he would be able to leave. Roy's arrival was confirmed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Bill sat in his office mulling over Roy's case notes. Something had bothered him at the hospital and he had not rested easily since. Why does an ill man take such delight in hearing tragic news of a bombing and why did he not ask the obvious questions? He scanned the notes, reading them over and over again, trying to remember Roy's manner, inflection of voice and concerns. He recalled Roy's words, ‘It is for these men I must fight’. He noticed too from the notes that he had made at the time that his answer about his enemy was without conviction. Roy was neither involved in any Veteran's group nor political party as far as he was aware. He moved to his desk and telephoned the hospital. "Doctor O'Brien speaking, could you put me through to the Registrar, please?" There was a pause before the earpiece was filled with soft music.

  "Doctor Patel speaking. How may I help?"

  "Good morning, Doctor, it's Bill O'Brien from Psychiatry." They exchanged greetings and chatted briefly about the hospital's shortcomings before Bill got to the point. "I wonder if you could help me unofficially for the moment? You had a chap brought in the other morning, suspected
heart attack whilst jogging, by the name of Roy Hanna; he's one of my private patients. Could you give me some information about your findings? It could be important."

  Dr Patel briefly told Bill the treatment he had received but stressed that the initial ECG showed no abnormality, blood pressure was within limits and remained so throughout the monitoring period. He felt it may have been a combination of muscle spasm and stress. Other than his hand deformity he thought Roy was reasonably fit.

  Bill thanked the doctor and assured confidentiality. He walked through to his Secretary. “Could you telephone Drew McKenna? The number is in the book. Arrange an appointment for me to see him later today. I've appointments at the hospital until two. Call me on the mobile." Bill left the clinic. His Secretary managed to secure an appointment with Drew for three that afternoon.

  ***

  Roy purchased some whisky from duty free before looking at the electrical goods. In a glass cabinet sat a palmtop, identical to the ones he had used. He asked the assistant to let him see the new model. She unlocked the cabinet and put it in front of him. She was distracted by another customer. How easy it would be to slip a hard disc into the port, a hard disc that contained Semtex. It could sit there until another enquiry brought it to life, the disc would activate and the bomb would explode. The act of leaving the device, to the time of detonation would vary. He shuddered. He was getting carried away by this terrorism. It was strange to think of all the opportunities to terrorise one's fellow man. He thanked the assistant and tapped the case closed. "I'll leave it this time, thanks."

  The airport security officer noted his interest in the computer and continued to follow Roy. Like Roy, the officer carried a flight bag and paper, he also had a duty-free bag. Roy’s flight, although slightly delayed in arriving, was called on time. He checked the screen and found his gate number and moved to collect his things. He followed the signs that directed him through the labyrinth of passageways and travelators to his gate. He stopped three times, once at the toilet where he brushed his hair after splashing his face with water, secondly to drop an envelope in the post box and finally to call Joan, he hoped she would be on her break. She was embarrassed when the mobile phone rang, she was on playground duty but delighted that he had called. He walked to his gate with the other passengers until it was time to board.