Tested by Fire

by David Costa

‘Concentrate on the eyes people. It’s the hardest thing to change,’ he told the team. ‘The CCTV also gives an idea of how he moves. He walks with a slight stoop, head down looking at the ground and keeping his face hidden from the camera.’

  When Reece went to bed the team were still in the communications section going through everything they had.

  Now awake, he’d taken two paracetamols for the shoulder pain and given an hour, they’d do the trick for a while. After breakfast he assembled the team.

  ‘Today I want you to check the railway stations, bus stops, and tram routes through the city but especially near the Conference Centre. With a focus on the route in from Warrington. Walk the area again and again and get to know every nook and cranny. I’ll pick Mike up and do the same, then let’s all meet up for a bite of lunch. There’s a Weatherspoon’s beside the Town Hall; we can meet there. It will be noisy, but nobody really pays attention to anyone else, so we should be OK to talk. When you’re out, don’t forget never let your guard down. They’re out there too. I know you won’t, but I have to say it, anyway.’

  ‘You look tired, David,’ said April, saying what they were all thinking.

  Reece laughed. ‘I always look this way when I’m busy need a long shower and a strong coffee and that’s next on my list. Let’s get out there, people, and find these bastards. We don’t have much time to work with so let’s make it count.’

  After an almost cold shower and then a large, strong coffee, Reece could feel his body recharging. Standing outside the hanger in the clear morning air, he could see the hustle and bustle of activity around the small airport. He could smell the aviation fuel and see a few of the SAS troopers jogging around the perimeter of the runways keeping up their fitness levels. Mechanics, aircrew, people all mixed together with their own worlds keeping them occupied. Parked up at the end of the runways were three small, single-engine aircraft in the corner of the field close to the farthest hanger. Next to them, a dark Puma helicopter, the one the SAS would use if needs be.

  Reece went back inside for one last check with the comms team and found the troop commander with his men around the table going over the CCTV, photos, and maps. Going over the information they have he knew that’s what makes them the best at what they do. The training, the shoot-outs, the flash bangs all leading to the dead opponents and successful compilation of the operations they’re involved in, plan then plan again. The training, the preparation the skill all combined to ensure the best possible result.

  ‘Have you got everything you need?’ asked Reece.

  ‘Yes thanks, as they say PPP…Piss Poor Planning is what fucks up the operation so get the plan right and we will get the job right.’

  ‘Let all your people know that we’ll be out on the ground. We need to keep our comms open and linked.’

  ‘Will do. See you later.’

  The coffee and the shower had done the trick and the paracetamol had finally kicked in, Reece felt better; refreshed, and ready for the rest of the day. Time to pick up Mary; the thought making him feel even better.

  The traffic was light on the drive into Manchester which helped him make good time. He parked up and found Mary waiting in the hotel foyer.

  Her dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Her clothing showed she was ready for a working day with denim jeans with dark blue trainers a tight-fitting jumper with a light blue short jacket.

  ‘Good morning. Did you sleep well?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, thank you, what about you?’

  ‘Not bad,’ he lied. There was no sense in worrying her or telling her he’d spent most of the night between bad dreams and dreams and thoughts about her, with a little shoulder pain put in for good measure.

  ‘Are you ready for a long day?’

  ‘Lead on, McDuff,’ she replied.

  ‘I thought we could start with a drive round the centre. Have you had breakfast?’

  ‘Yes, I’m OK thanks.’

  ‘Right, let’s go; we can stop for a coffee later. On the way I can bring you up to date on where we are now. Then I want you to meet the rest of the team later when they grab a bite of lunch, if that’s all right by you?’

  ‘No problem. Do they know who I am?’

  ‘They know you’re my agent and your code name. The only questions they’re likely to ask will be about this operation, nothing else.’

  ‘OK, let’s go.’

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The rest of the SG9 team had been out driving around the target area for about an hour. Now they picked up their target they were following on foot. Their unsuspecting quarry, a young white male, didn’t know he was being followed; his every move noted. It was an easy way for surveillance operators to keep sharp and check their communications. Pick a target then follow them for at least one hour without raising the suspicion of the person being followed.

  They followed the young man from Deansgate train station into St Peters Square. He’d spent time in some shops moving around the area with a surety that confirmed he knew this part of Manchester. The team took turns, always one in front of the target, one behind, and one keeping level on the opposite side of the street. The comms were working perfectly, and the team eventually joined up with the target when he sat unaware off them in the reference area of the Manchester Central Library.

  April Grey sat down two desks to the right of the young man. Joe Cousins browsed the reference books on shelves in front of him while Steve Harrison sat near the exit doors reading today’s newspaper copies. April moved close enough to see that the young man was browsing the Internet page for Ernest Hemingway and his life.

  A scholar, maybe a budding writer, she thought.

  ‘OK, guys, nearly time to get to Weatherspoon’s,’ said Harrison over the airwaves. ‘Let’s go. I think we can call this a successful morning.’

  ‘Roger,’ came the responses.

  Reece drove through central Manchester and around the area of Deansgate at least four times, all the time watching the traffic, the people, the streets, and the buildings as they passed by. Up close, Mary noticed the change in him from the casual Joseph, who always, to her at least, appeared relaxed and calm, to the Joseph she now saw, concentrated, focused, quiet, intense.

  ‘Are you OK, Joseph?’

  ‘Yes, why do you ask?’

  ‘You seem so distant, as if you’re somewhere else.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. I was just thinking if we don’t stop these people, I could be responsible for the death of the Prime Minister.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’re doing everything you can to stop them. That’s all you can do; no more, no less.’

  He smiled. ‘Have you been to Manchester before?’

  ‘I came once on a shopping trip to the Trafford Centre when it first opened, a long time ago. We stayed one night, then back to Belfast, not much time for sightseeing. What about you? Do you know Manchester well?’

  ‘Not really, since I arrived, I’ve driven and walked around this section especially and studied maps and aerial photographs, but I’m getting a feel for the place. I would prefer Belfast or London, even though there seems to be fewer people than London and not as many foreigners, so hopefully Costello will stand out. His favourite landscape would be the countryside, empty roads, hills small towns, and villages like the place he comes from…more room to move about.’

  There he goes again, she thought. Back to the work, the Joseph who can’t relax, back on the job. Maybe one day she’ll see him with his guard down, see the real Joseph underneath, the real man, or maybe he could never change.

  ‘Right, let’s find a parking space, then meet with the rest of the team. I’ll introduce you as Mike. They already know you’re my agent so don’t worry about people knowing who you are, who you are doesn’t matter to them. Your security is safe. They’re here to do a job and you’re part of the team that’ll help them get that job done.’

  ‘Nice to be wanted.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after y
ou. You’ll be with me most of the time, it’s just good that they get to know you and you them. Knowing each other in the flesh so to speak makes things easier when we are out there doing the job. Anyway, I’m starving. I need a bite to eat, how about you?’

  ‘I’m famished.’

  Reece parked just of the Town Hall Square in one of the side streets and put a few coins in the parking meter displaying the ticket on the inside of the windscreen. They found the rest of the SG9 team in the Weatherspoon’s restaurant already waiting at a table near the back with two spare chairs for Reece and his agent. This was the Joseph she wanted to know, was getting to know, to see him working with his team, the secret Reece. The one she thought cared, the one she wanted, more than he knew. As they entered the restaurant, she’d noticed the way he looked around without moving his head.

  Would there ever be a time when the professional side would relax, just switch off, she thought as he placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her to the table where the rest of his friends were sitting. Reece introduced her as Mike and going around the table, introduced the rest of the team, first names only; no need to complicate things.

  ‘Well, how has your day gone?’ Reece asked no one in particular.

  ‘We’ve had a good morning getting to know the place better,’ said Joe. ‘We took a dummy target from the station to the library. Good run, good comms. We’re ready for any surveillance foot or mobile in this area.’

  ‘Great, before we go on, have you all ordered, we’re starving.’

  ‘Yes, our drinks and food are on the way, you need to order at the bar. Our table number is 44,’ said Cousins.

  ‘What would you like?’ Reece asked Mary.

  ‘Whatever you’re having.’

  Reece went to order at the bar. Mary noticed the people around the table looking at her. She smiled and looked back.

  ‘Welcome, Mike, it’s nice to meet you at last,’ said April.

  ‘It’s nice to meet you all too,’ said Mary.

  ‘Well, I can tell you from everyone here we very much appreciate what you’re doing for us and Joseph,’ Grey replied.

  Reece returned and sat beside Mary, placing a glass of wine in front of her and a large diet Coke with ice for himself on his beer mat.

  ‘Now we’re all acquainted, I want to bring everyone up to date. We’re still catching up on the CCTV and ANPR from the port in Holyhead to the Manchester area. The PSNI are also checking out the van but all the family will say is that it belonged to their dead father and they sold it to an unknown male for a few hundred quid. The police are trying to put pressure on them because it’s against the law not to inform the DVLA who you sell a vehicle to, but the family don’t seem too worried about not doing things by the book. The Prime Minister will deliver his main speech on Wednesday afternoon and he’s staying in the Midland for the duration.’

  The food arrived for the other three SG9 operators. Reece waited until the waiter had left before he spoke again.

  ‘I’ll work with Mike and you three should work together and I want us all to be in contact at all times. For the rest of the day we should keep going over the ground, getting to know every inch of the ground.’

  Reece continued to speak as they ate, ‘We can only speculate to the who and when, but we have no ideas on the how. Answer that and we can end this and go home to our own beds.’

  He knew he was speaking to professionals, no sense in teaching them how to suck eggs when they already knew the game and what was needed.

  ‘Mike has joined us at great risk but I’ve asked her to come to Manchester for two reasons. One, so we could all meet as a team and get to know each other. Two, she knows Costello personally. Even though he may have changed his appearance, she knows how he moves how he walks, how he stands, how he dresses. The habits of a lifetime that are hard to change. It might mean Mike having to get close enough to put herself in danger. That’s where we come in. If she does point out Costello, we need to be ready, we need to be there. Not only to protect Mike and the Prime Minister but to make sure Costello and his friends don’t get away. Mike knows the dangers and she is willing to take the risk. Is everyone happy with this?’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ said Harrison. ‘I hope the boss, the PM, and everyone else realises the risk we’re all running. If we could get a little more information that would help.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Steve, that’s what we’re working on. Everyone knows the risks. There are no guarantees, but the PM has decided he won’t hide from terrorism. It’s our job to do our best, that’s all we can do. Mike and I’ll go for a walk after lunch and walk off some of these fish and chips. I want you all to go back to the hanger for eight tonight for any update.’

  ‘Great. We will do a couple more runs around and we can all catch up later,’ said Harrison.

  Reece stood. ‘Well, Mike, do you fancy a walk?’

  ‘Yes, that sound great.’

  Leaving Weatherspoon’s, Reece walked in the direction across the front of the Town Hall Square. For a change it wasn’t raining, and the wind was slight, with the sun breaking through white clouds.

  People were moving through the city, but it’s not as busy as London, he thought.

  ‘We can walk the whole block, so you’ll have a better feel for the place in case you’re on your own at any time. What did you think of the team?’

  ‘Scary and quiet, but I think strong too.’

  ‘Scary?’ He laughed. ‘I think they would love to hear that. If I met them cold like that for the first time, I would probably have to agree with you. The one thing to remember is they’re the best at what they do. They cover each other’s back, and now they’ll cover yours.’

  They continued to walk down Deansgate and as they passed the front of the Hilton, Costello watched them from the café lounge through the tinted windows. The man was familiar to him, he was sure he’d seen him somewhere before. The woman he definitely knew.

  ‘So, Mary McAuley, what brings you here and who’s this man you’re with? I know him, but from where?’

  He left the hotel and crossed the street to follow them; keeping at least one hundred yards behind. He watched them cross the road at the bottom of Deansgate and go into the railway station. He decided not to follow them further. Having travelled through the station himself he knew it was small with nowhere to hide, it was too open an area where he risked being seen. They might be getting a train or tram, they might even come back out, so he couldn’t hang around, he needed to get back to the hotel to call Lyndsey and put in an important call to Ireland.

  Reece felt that sixth sense he’d felt many times before. He knew they were being watched and he’d studied the glass panel on the station wall and using its reflection he could see a man turn and go back the way they’d just come. He couldn’t see him clearly, and he could be jumping to conclusions, but Reece felt certain. The man had been following them, watching them, and he was wearing a dark baseball cap. By the time they were through the entrance and Reece could risk a look over his shoulder, the man was gone.

  ‘What is it?’ Mary asked.

  ‘I’m not sure. Stay here.’ Reece ran back down the station steps and across the road in the direction he’d seen the unknown man but there was no sign of him. He returned to where Mary was waiting and watching.

  ‘Nothing, and something, I don’t know for sure but let’s get back to the car.’

  Reece took Mary a different route to the one they’d used, passing the Bridgewater Hall, and following the tram lines back to the Library Square. As they walked, he spoke to the team.

  ‘Alpha One to Alpha Team, I’m leaving Deansgate Station heading back to the car near the Library Square. An unknown male with a dark baseball cap was behind us for a while on Deansgate but did a U-turn, and might still be in that area, can you check, over?’

  ‘Roger, will take a look,’ replied Grey.

  ‘Just being careful. It might be nothing but felt a little strange.�
�

  They walked the rest of the way back to the car in silence. Reece drove out of the city centre to the Lowry Centre in Salford. He used the time driving to check for followers. He was sure there were none. At the Lowry, they found a quiet corner in a café. Mary could see his eyes checking the faces of the shoppers outside.

  ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m just being careful.’

  ‘Who do you think that was?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not even one hundred per cent sure he was following us, but I’m not taking any chances. It’s slim, very slim but I’m going to get the team to continue to concentrate in the Deansgate area. We can find ourselves on the CCTV too. It will show if anyone was following us. Hopefully then we will have a clearer picture. And, if it was Costello, then he had to have picked us up somewhere near there as we walked through. And he still just might be in the area. But don’t worry, I checked on the way here, no one is following us, we can relax…for now.’

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Costello went straight back to the Hilton having phoned Lyndsey on the way and asking her to come meet him.

  ‘You sure it was this Mary McAuley?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘And this man. You know him too?’

  ‘I’ve seen him before. I’m not sure where but I’m sure I know him. It will come to me.’

  ‘Could he be one of us?’

  ‘Maybe. But I don’t think so. The feeling I got when I saw him was danger, something from my past.’

  ‘Do you think they saw you?’

  ‘No, that’s why I didn’t follow them into the station or get too close. I came straight back here. But I checked, no one followed me.’

  ‘We need to find out what McAuley is doing here. Can your people at home find out? Who knows, she might be here with a boyfriend for a dirty weekend or just shopping, but it’s the kind of coincidence I don’t like.’

  Costello didn’t like it either. The unknown man still bugged him.

  ‘Yes, it will take a few hours, but I should be able to find out.’