Lone Wolf

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘He killed my mum,’ Fay said. ‘If you’re chicken, go back to Nebraska House and watch TV. I don’t need you.’

  ‘Warren was right, Fay. Your lust for revenge is clouding your judgement. Get yourself killed if you want to, but that’s not what I signed up for.’

  Fay didn’t say a word. This was a challenging moment for Ning. She needed to be close to Fay to learn about Hagar’s organisation and progress the mission. But it was too risky to carry on this way, so Ning decided to call Fay’s bluff.

  ‘There,’ Ning said, as she put down a carrier bag with the new pairs of binoculars in and stood up. ‘Take the equipment. I’m out.’

  ‘Don’t be such a drama queen,’ Fay said. ‘I can’t believe you.’

  Ning pointed up the street. ‘I’m hungry,’ she said. ‘That sushi place we walked past looked good. I’m gonna go up there and grab some lunch. Then maybe I’ll go watch a movie in town, or go back to Nebraska and chill in my room. If you want, I’ll go back to the bowling club once it’s dark and we can start our surveillance by watching who comes and goes from the end of the street. But going back in broad daylight and staring through binoculars, before we know how many people are inside, or where the CCTV cameras are, is stupid and I don’t want any part of it.’

  ‘So you’re an expert all of a sudden?’ Fay said.

  ‘You don’t need to be an expert to see that you’re pushing too fast.’

  With that, Ning started walking up the road. She was desperate to look back and see Fay’s reaction, and massively relieved when Fay finally stood up and shouted, ‘OK!’

  Ning turned and placed her hands on her hips. ‘OK, what?’

  ‘Maybe I don’t know it all,’ Fay admitted. ‘And I highly doubt Kirsten or my mum would want me to get killed.’

  Ning turned back as Fay walked towards her.

  ‘Lunch and a movie?’ Ning asked.

  Fay nodded, then the two girls put down their shopping and hugged it out.

  ‘You said you looked up some stuff about surveillance,’ Fay said.

  Ning nodded. ‘I bookmarked a few pages. We can check them out when we get back to my room at Nebraska House.’

  ‘No harm in taking a look at them,’ Fay said. ‘And I’ve not been to the flicks in ages.’

  29. KENT

  Clark was a nickname, earned by black hair and plastic glasses reminiscent of Superman’s alter ego, Clark Kent. He was touching thirty, with an awkward face caused by a pummelled nose and fat lower lip.

  ‘All right?’ Clark said, in an accent that came from somewhere north.

  Bright sun made Ryan squint as he slid off a low wall and accepted Clark’s firm handshake.

  ‘Craig tells me you can handle yourself.’

  Ryan acted modest. ‘I guess.’

  ‘You’ll need a stab vest,’ Clark said. ‘I’ve got a few round my flat.’

  Clark lived on the opposite side of the estate to Ryan. His furniture was old but every spare inch of wall was fitted with hooks. These held weapons, from child-sized knuckledusters to Kalashnikov assault rifles.

  ‘Are these real?’ Ryan asked, as he swept his finger along a dusty shotgun barrel.

  ‘Hundred per cent,’ Clark said, as he opened a chest of drawers and started rummaging.

  There was enough illegal gear on display to get you a life sentence, but Clark didn’t seem to care. After a minute he pulled a stab-proof vest from the drawer and flung it at Ryan.

  ‘Should fit,’ Clark said, as he rapped his knuckles on something hard beneath his sweatshirt. ‘I never leave home without mine.’

  The stab vest was easily visible underneath Ryan’s T-shirt, so he took a balled-up hoodie out of his backpack.

  ‘Gonna cook in this weather,’ Ryan said, as he zipped up.

  ‘Better than risking a knife in the guts,’ Clark said, as he walked to his kitchen and came back with two bottles of Evian. ‘Cold one,’ he said. ‘You’ll need it.’

  As Ryan dropped the bottle into his backpack, Clark surprised him with a lunge. He tried getting an arm around Ryan’s waist, but Ryan spun and backed off. He tripped over a lamp cable and clattered into a wall lined with baseball bats.

  ‘Nearly!’ Clark gasped, smiling as he took another swipe.

  This time, Clark anticipated Ryan’s speed and hooked his ankle. Ryan’s bum hit the carpet and he shuffled back towards a sofa as Clark closed in. The nature of Clark’s attack and the fact he was smiling made Ryan sure he was just mucking around, trying to test his mettle.

  When Clark got within arm’s length and leaned forward to grab, Ryan darted head first between Clark’s legs, locked arms around the big man’s calves and thrust upwards, lifting Clark’s feet off the ground.

  Clark crashed forward. No harm was done because he landed on the couch, then rolled on to his back, howling with laughter.

  ‘Slippery bugger,’ Clark said, as he waved his palms to make it clear that hostilities had ended. ‘Not bad at all.’

  Ryan couldn’t decide what to think. Clark seemed friendly, but it also felt weird wrestling a guy he’d met less than half an hour earlier.

  ‘Take this,’ Clark said, as he unhooked one of the batons on the wall. The metal stick started off twenty centimetres long, but when Clark twisted the base a prong shot out, tripling its length. Ryan swooshed it through the air a couple of times before whacking a camouflage cushion.

  ‘You’re my eyes and ears,’ Clark said. ‘I’ll handle the clients. You keep lookout.’

  They travelled in a Prius minicab, presumably another of Hagar’s money-laundering companies. After weeks of stress, Ryan was pleased that he was finally getting closer to Hagar and might soon have something useful to report back to his mission controller.

  Clark and the driver bantered in a way that made Ryan sure they worked together often. A twenty-minute drive took them north to a private dental practice in Edgware.

  The waiting area was smart. Clinical white walls, a big screen showing daytime TV and a busy waiting room lined with smart leather armchairs and posters offering to Whiten your smile from as little as £149.

  Clark leaned on the reception desk and turned on what little charm he had. ‘My son has an eleven-thirty appointment to see Mr Lladro.’

  ‘Take a seat, we’ll call you through.’

  Clark sat in the armchair furthest from the reception desk and spoke to Ryan, barely above a whisper.

  ‘Mr Lladro set this place up about four years back. His credit score was dog shite, so no bank would touch him. One of Hagar’s companies put up most of the money, but now the little runt’s behind with his payments.’

  Ryan looked around at three receptionists, a dental nurse and another coming through the door.

  ‘It looks like they’re coining it to me,’ Ryan said.

  Clark nodded. ‘A dentist is gonna make money for as long as people have teeth. But Lladro’s wife died eighteen months back and he’s been on a bender ever since. Cards, cocaine, call girls. He owes half the loan sharks in London and he’s become a very tricky man to pin down.’

  Ryan nodded. ‘So you made an appointment.’

  The nurse came through on the dot of half eleven. Her white Crocs squeaked on polished tiles as she led them to a frosted glass cubicle filled with a big skylight and all the latest dental hardware. Clark’s expression turned sour as soon as he came through the door.

  ‘Where’s Lladro?’ he asked grimly.

  The slender young dentist spoke politely, as he pulled on a blue nitrile glove. ‘I’m Mr Greenwin. Mr Lladro is indisposed, so I’ll be taking care of his patients today.’

  ‘Indisposed where?’ Clark asked.

  ‘I believe it’s a personal matter.’

  Clark smiled. ‘So you know where he is?’

/>   ‘I can’t divulge personal information about practice staff. I’ll be taking care of Mr Lladro’s patients today and I can assure you—’

  Before Greenwin finished, Clark turned to Ryan and spoke hurriedly. ‘Block the door.’

  Clark snatched a sharp-ended dental probe from a cabinet beside the dental chair. With a single deft movement, he shoved Greenwin against the frosted glass with the point held at his throat. The nurse gasped and made a dash for the door, but Ryan blocked her as Clark made a threat.

  ‘One more step, missy, and this goes straight through his face.’

  While the nurse stood rigid, half a step from Ryan and the door, Clark began grilling Greenwin.

  ‘How well do you know Lladro?’

  ‘Not particularly well,’ Greenwin said. ‘He’s been my boss here for four years, but we don’t socialise.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know.’

  ‘You didn’t say you didn’t know before. You said he was indisposed.’

  Greenwin made a nervous squint and shook his head. ‘I don’t know his movements when he’s away from the practice.’

  ‘When’s he back here?’

  ‘He hasn’t seen a patient in over two weeks.’

  ‘If you had to guess where he was?’

  ‘He plays a lot of golf.’

  As the nervous exchange went on between Greenwin and Clark, Ryan warily eyeballed the nurse. He was certain he could handle her if she tried to get out, but there was only a glass screen separating them from other cubicles so people would hear if hostilities broke out.

  ‘Which golf club?’

  ‘Highgate, I think.’

  ‘He doesn’t answer his mobile any more,’ Clark said. ‘Has he got a new number?’

  Greenwin shrugged. ‘Probably, I don’t know.’

  ‘But you’re covering all his patients. You must have to speak to him from time to time.’

  ‘Mr Lladro’s behaviour has been very erratic since his wife died early last year.’

  Clark snorted. ‘Your boss owes money to my boss, and to some other serious villains. My job is to make sure we get paid before the money runs out. One of the girls on reception must know his new mobile number. Shall I go and smack it out of one of them?’

  Ryan watched the nurse’s hand disappear into her trouser pocket.

  ‘Hey,’ he warned, but she kept moving and delicately removed an iPhone.

  ‘I’ve worked with Mr Lladro for a long time,’ the nurse said, speaking deliberately to try and diffuse the tension in the room. ‘I’ll give you his new mobile number if you promise to leave immediately. I know he’s moved into an hotel, but I don’t know where it is. But he usually plays a round of golf on Monday morning and you should catch him in the clubhouse for a late lunch.’

  Clark sounded pleased as he took the pointed tool away from Greenwin’s throat. ‘Now that wasn’t hard, was it?’

  ‘It’s not Mr Lladro’s fault,’ the nurse said, her voice rising a few octaves. ‘He’s been through hell since his wife died.’

  ‘He’s a big boy,’ Clark said. ‘Now I’m going to leave. In case either of you thinks of calling the police, or decides to tip Lladro off, remember this: my boss has a secured loan over this practice, so barring a miracle you’ll be working for him soon. Your home addresses and next of kin details will be on file here, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want me turning up at your house with a couple of angry pals . . .’

  To emphasise his point, Clark flicked over a framed picture of Greenwin’s kids. The dentist looked furious, but kept a lid on it as Clark and Ryan backed out.

  The receptionist was expecting them to pay for a check-up, and yelled, ‘Excuse me,’ as the pair headed out the door and got into the grungy Prius mini-cab.

  ‘Right,’ Clark said, as he looked at his watch. ‘It’ll be a while before golden bollocks finishes his round of golf, so who’s on for a big fry-up?’

  30. PLANT

  Ning had discreetly placed one of the wireless CCTV cameras in a hedge so that it showed the entrance to the former bowls club parking lot, then set up camp with Fay in a little swing park a few hundred metres away. Any lingering doubts about having found the grow house got quashed when the Transit van with two blue stripes rolled up outside.

  A park keeper came just before midnight, turfing them out and locking the gate. But the fence was only shoulder high, so the girls had no trouble climbing back in once he was gone.

  A pattern emerged through Sunday night and Monday morning. Every eight hours, two guards would enter the former bowls club and two would leave shortly afterwards. Sometime between nine and ten in the morning an additional crew of three men would arrive, one on foot, one in the striped van and one in a battered Honda hatchback.

  Occasionally, members of this trio would emerge, either through the main entrance or a set of emergency exit doors. Drums of liquid fertiliser went in full and came out empty, bags of waste got loaded in the van. Their shift seemed to last until mid-afternoon, and the van owner always came out first with two or three bulging rubbish sacks. The guy who arrived on foot got a lift from the guy with the Honda. The only other visitors were a postwoman and moped riders delivering from a nearby pizza place and curry house.

  It was 1 p.m. when Fay arrived at the swing park, and Ning was surprised to see Warren holding her hand. They joined Ning on a bench at the edge of a soft play area.

  ‘And?’ Fay asked bluntly, as Warren put his hand around her back and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  ‘Looks like the same pattern,’ Ning admitted. ‘The gardening crew and two guards are inside the building right now. I waited until about five minutes after the food delivery, then I walked around the back and hid a second camera.’

  Warren didn’t get it. ‘What’s the significance of the food delivery?’

  ‘They’re less likely to be concentrating on the screens when they’re eating hot food,’ Fay explained.

  Ning demonstrated her handiwork by holding up the little LED monitor that came with the CCTV kit. It showed the second camera perfectly centred on the rear fire doors.

  ‘Next time they open up, we ought to get a look inside.’

  Fay nodded as she pulled away from Warren. ‘Good work.’

  ‘You two seem to be getting along pretty well all of a sudden,’ Ning noted, as she wondered if Fay really liked Warren, or if the kissy-kissy stuff was just a way of keeping their best source of information on side.

  ‘He’s lovely,’ Fay said jokily, as she slid her hand across Warren’s lap.

  ‘What about the security cameras?’ Warren asked.

  Ning looked at Fay. ‘Is lover boy a full partner now?’ she said, a touch irritably.

  Fay’s yes came in the form of a guilty smile. ‘Where would we be now without him?’

  ‘Must have been some date on Saturday night,’ Ning said acidly, before changing the subject. ‘Hagar’s security guards must have CCTV, but I can’t see any cameras.’

  ‘So how much longer do you think we should keep up this surveillance?’ Fay asked.

  ‘I reckon another day, unless something surprising happens,’ Ning said. ‘The park keeper’s already giving me funny looks when he turns up and sees I’m still here.’

  ‘The best way is to wait until the three guys open up the back doors and then jump ’em,’ Fay said.

  Ning shook her head. ‘If the two security guys are doing their job they’ll be on high alert every time that door opens. And unless the set-up is a total shambles, they’ll probably have guns within reach and come out shooting before we can even take down the gardeners.’

  ‘You have a good brain for this sort of thing,’ Fay complimented. ‘So we’re better off at night, when it’s just the two guards in the building?�
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  ‘We need to find a way of getting in without them knowing,’ Warren said. ‘There must be a blind spot, if we can only find the CCTV cameras.’

  ‘I suppose there might not be cameras,’ Fay said.

  Ning shook her head. ‘The cheapo wireless cameras we bought yesterday are pretty titchy. Someone with Hagar’s money can probably get cameras so small that you’ll only find them if you climb up the side of the building.’

  ‘So we’re screwed,’ Warren said.

  Fay and Ning both shook their heads. Fay spoke first, saying almost exactly what Ning was thinking.

  ‘If we can’t get inside without the two guards seeing us, we need to find a way of getting the guards to come out and meet us.’

  *

  Clark picked out Lladro’s Jaguar saloon in front of the golf club. After a circuit of the car park, they parked the Prius on the street opposite the club entrance. This gave them a vantage point over everyone coming in and out of the clubhouse.

  Ryan played games on his phone, until he got worried about the battery dying, Clark farted noisily and thought it hilarious to tell the others to sniff that, while the driver perched his newspaper on the steering wheel and occasionally read a crossword clue aloud.

  Three hours had gone by when Clark looked up and raised a smile. ‘There’s the little bastard!’

  Lladro was a portly bald man. At only five feet tall, he barely seemed bigger than his bag of golf clubs.

  He spoke in a clipped shrill voice with a superior manner as Ryan and Clark approached. ‘What are you two gentlemen after?’

  Clark’s silence gave the fat little dentist a dose of nerves. He turned to run, but Ryan quickly circled behind as Clark grabbed the collar of his polo shirt.

  ‘What do I want?’ Clark asked thoughtfully, as he shoved Lladro against the back of his Jaguar. ‘How about three hundred and eighty-three thousand pounds?’

  ‘Now listen . . .’ the dentist began, trying to sound authoritative as Clark forced a hand down his trouser pocket. ‘I’ve already spoken to your people. The cheque is written and on the desk at my home.’