by Ted Tayler
Henry, Giles, and Artemis left the meeting room. Athena addressed the most urgent items on her agenda, and Minos and Alastor left to continue their checks into the potential new Olympians’ backgrounds. Rusty and Phoenix remained with her after the two senior agents had left.
“That was a brave call, Athena,” said Rusty. “I’m only sorry we didn’t cover our tracks well enough on that London mission.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Rusty,” Athena replied, “we have been fortunate over the past eight years. Hundreds of our direct actions have been carried out without either the authorities or the criminals we’ve targeted, being alerted. We’ll amend our operating procedures and keep moving forward.”
“The flow of information Henry indicated makes sense of what happened at the weekend,” said Phoenix. “Hannon had made the link between Chiswick and the hit on his mate McTierney. He was told we had been followed, but the exact location may never have been specified. He learned of the flight plan Biggles had logged and called his old comrades in Dublin. They battered the reason for my trip out of Biggles, and on Hannon’s orders killed Krishnan. Hannon had nothing to gain for that murder, except to use it to convey a message to me. The note said it was personal. Fintan and I assumed he meant the doctor had killed or mutilated a woman he knew. It was McTierney that made it personal. Their friendship must have mattered a great deal.”
“If we tidy up the loose ends in London,” said Rusty, “then we may not have the threat to our security we feared.”
“We can only hope,” said Athena, “let’s wait to see what tomorrow brings.”
With the meeting at an end, Rusty went back to his apartment. Artemis would sleep for a while yet. He went for a swim. Phoenix and Athena took advantage of a sunny afternoon and walked around the grounds with Hope. Every moment of normal life was precious. In the stable block, Giles Burke was fast asleep. Beside him lay Maria Elena, wide awake, and watching the rise and fall of her lover’s chest.
Tuesday, 8th April 2014
Everyone was wide awake and ready to start the new day. The agents gathered in the meeting room for nine o’clock.
“Your update please, Henry?” asked Athena.
“Mission complete, Athena. Each man was interrogated, their properties searched, and any incriminating evidence destroyed. The bodies will never be found. I’m confident no links to Larcombe remain, outside anything gleaned by Hannon. We will eradicate every trace of that when we find him.”
“Good work,” said Phoenix. “It might have seemed extreme, but the preservation of the Olympus Project is vital.”
“I didn’t enjoy issuing the order yesterday,” said Athena, “but it had to be done for the greater good. Do we have news from Ireland yet?”
Henry smiled and nodded in Giles’s direction.
“Over to you, Giles,” he said.
“Fintan reported in at eight this morning,” said Giles, “he and Brendan have been busy. They have uncovered the Irish connection. When Gavin McTierney and Ardal Hannon ran together in the latter days of last century, they were in a gang with one Seamus O’Connor. If Hannon was the one with the brains, McTierney and Connor provided the brawn. For the past fifteen years, Seamus has been involved in crime. He is believed to have been responsible for the deaths of at least a dozen men. Their bodies were found in Dublin’s inner city, Limerick, southern Spain, and various beauty spots around the Republic. O’Connor is an experienced, strategic and well-resourced gangster. He is Ireland’s third-biggest drug dealer, up from number five last year. He is ambitious and has much younger, more volatile assassins ready to do his bidding. Two eighteen-year-old boys visited Shanklin on Saturday morning to murder Krishnan.”
The room fell quiet. There was a pause of over a minute before Athena spoke.
“Issue the authority for direct action, Henry. Fintan, Brendan and any extra agents they need, are to hunt for Seamus O’Connor. He must pay the price for his actions. It seems to be well overdue.”
“What do we do with the men who attacked Biggles, and the doctor’s murderers?” asked Henry.
“O’Connor ordered his men to attack Les Biggar. That order was a direct act against Olympus. That’s why he pays the full price. The thugs who beat up our pilot should receive punishment in kind. As for the teenage killers, I’m sure Fintan can direct the attention of the Garda towards them, to help solve the murder. We can only pray a long spell in prison, gives them the chance to mend their ways.”
“Hang on,” said Phoenix. “How did O’Connor know where to send these kids?
“Brendan talked to Les Biggar in the hospital,” said Henry. “We knew he was a tough nut. He took a heck of a beating. They were convinced he’d told them everything he knew. He never gave up the reason for your mission. He only said you were meeting a guy called Krishnan.”
“So how did they get on to him?” asked Athena.
“O’Connor got his people to check where Krishnan was staying in Dublin,” said Giles.
“The guy on reception at the hotel.” shouted Phoenix, “the little snot took fifty euros from Fintan. We thought he’d helped us out.”
“That’s Gerard Collins,” said Giles, “he’s from the same housing estate as the killers. Someone came asking about Krishnan at the hotel before Fintan rang him. The doctor was followed to Shanklin by the two teenagers. He was murdered within minutes of stepping inside his new premises. You and Fintan were one step behind them all day.”
“What’s to be done with Collins?” asked Artemis.
“We’ll leave that to Fintan,” said Athena. “I’m sure he can come up with something suitable.”
The rest of that morning’s meeting continued with more uneventful matters. After he returned to the ice-house, Henry Case contacted Fintan O’Sullivan and issued his orders. Over the next forty-eight hours these were carried out.
Brendan had since visited Les Biggar in the hospital. He took grapes for the pilot to enjoy, asked how his recovery was going and showed him the latest photographs on his phone of the thugs who attacked him. That cheered the pilot up no end.
Brendan discovered that Gerard Collins liked to park run at weekends. Fintan suggested a kneecapping would give him time to consider the direction his life was taking.
The Garda in Terenure received an anonymous call related to the murder in Shanklin. Two tearaways from Dublin had now been arrested.
Seamus O’Connor disappeared from outside his home. He had driven home late at night but never reached his front door. His family had no idea why, or where, he might have gone. His gang colleagues assumed he had been kidnapped by a rival outfit. A reward for information had received no response so far. Brendan knew where he’d gone. His ashes were scattered in the grounds of Shanganagh Park; near the spot where Biggles had dropped off Phoenix.
Fintan thought it had been a nice touch.
As the week ended at Larcombe, Athena and Phoenix were looking forward to the wedding. Everything was going to plan.
“We’re all set, darling,” she said as they walked in the grounds, pushing Hope in her buggy.
“Only one dark cloud on the horizon,” said Phoenix.
“What’s that?” Athena asked.
“We still haven’t found Hannon. He must be aware of the loose ends we tidied up in London. Even if he connects those to the car theft ring, and hasn’t uncovered the Olympus connection, we should still have expected a reaction. It’s too quiet.”
“Let’s take Hope back indoors,” said Athena, “although the sun is warm today, I suddenly felt a chill run down my spine.”
CHAPTER 15
Saturday, 12th April 2014
A newspaper report from Bournemouth described how twenty-eight-year-old Peter Laycock was gunned down last night inside Tesco Metro on Bourne Avenue.
Laycock, from Boscombe, stood by the hot deli counter on Friday evening, at seven o’clock when two men entered the store. The store’s CCTV showed they wore ski masks, black hooded tops, and denim jeans. Both c
arried handguns.
They shouted at Laycock and he ran; they then chased him around the store. He collided with a trolley being pushed by an elderly female customer and fell to the floor. One man pointed his gun at terrified staff and shoppers and yelled at them to keep quiet. The other man calmly walked up to Laycock and shot him in the head.
Peter Laycock was known to the police. He had committed several offences from his early teens. He had convictions for handling stolen goods, possession with intent to supply, and grievous bodily harm. His attackers fled and were picked up outside by a car which drove off at speed.
Laycock’s mother, Sylvia commented: - “Our Pete was a rogue, but he never deserved this.”
Mrs Phyllis Freegard, of Ashley Road, Bournemouth was treated for shock by paramedics who attended the store. Later, she had recovered to tell our reporter: -
“This doesn’t happen in a nice town such as this. I only popped in to buy things for the weekend. This man came hurtling around the corner as I reached for a tin of cat food off the top shelf.”
A spokesman for Dorset police said it was believed this was a gang-related issue, and anyone with information should ring the Crimestoppers number.
*****
At Larcombe Manor, there were new arrivals. Hayden Vincent and Kelly Dexter moved into the stable block. They had handed the keys to their house in Shrivenham to a fresh pair of agents that morning.
Several of the vehicles they had used while carrying out their missions were left at the house; either in the garage or on the driveway. The people carrier and Ford Kuga were part of the Olympus transport fleet. There was one car Kelly had no intentions of losing; her Porsche 911. There were plenty of admiring glances as she swung the car into the parking space outside the stable block.
Kelly was used to that. Her car was a classic, and she was a good-looking woman. The Porsche had been a present to herself after she had been invalided out of the Logistics Corps. She had been forced out from Helmand Province with shrapnel wounds to both her legs. It had been a dark time for her; lightened by meeting Hayden Vincent while she served out there.
Kelly’s driving skills were legendary; whether in her Porsche, or any other vehicle Olympus needed her to handle.
Her partner was right behind her in an Olympus transit van. Agents travel light. Their Shrivenham home held few personal items of any great sentimental value. Apart from their clothes, the van contained weaponry and technical gadgets.
As Kelly swung her handbag over her shoulder to walk back towards Hayden, she felt the comfortable weight of her Smith and Wesson MP Shield bump against her shoulder blade. What more could a girl want?
Henry Case was the first person to approach them.
“Good morning you two. Welcome to Larcombe. Allow me to show you to your quarters.”
Henry took them inside and opened the door to what had once been the two single rooms occupied by Phoenix and Rusty Scott.
“It’s basic, as you can appreciate,” said Henry. “But now it’s been redesigned for use by a couple, I’m sure you’ll make yourselves at home.”
“It certainly seems to have received a female touch,” said Hayden, looking around their new quarters.
“After Phoenix moved into the main house with Athena, his room lay empty for a while. When Artemis joined us, to be with Rusty Scott, it was refurbished.”
“I can’t wait to meet up with everyone,” said Kelly. “We’ve been out in the field for so long. So much has changed here since we were recruited.”
“I’ll leave you to get your things from the van,” said Henry, “let you get settled. You know where the canteen is when you’re hungry. If you have any energy left, the recreation area is still over there in the old workers’ cottages. Athena and Phoenix are busy with wedding preparations and looking after young Hope. There’s nothing scheduled for you until Monday; so, enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“Thanks, Henry,” said Hayden, “we might drive into Bath later, to look at the sights. It’s a beautiful city. We might find something to brighten up these quarters.”
Henry laughed. With that, he left them alone. As he walked back up the corridor to leave the stable block, he heard a giggle. He stopped. He was outside of Giles Burke’s room. Henry walked out into the sunshine. His suspicions had been correct. He had lost out in the race for Maria Elena’s affections.
Henry was upset, of course, but as the gravel crunched under his feet, and he headed for the ice-house, he congratulated himself. His training had allowed him to identify the half-heard, brief giggle as indisputably Spanish. He didn’t imagine there were many intelligence officers who could match that claim.
Sunday, 13th April 2014
‘A man gunned down in a gangland-style execution outside a nightclub in Watford was wanted by police for attacking two men in a bar last month, it emerged today. The fugitive, believed to be forty-five-year-old Kent Briscoe, from Bushey, was shot when ambushed in the queue waiting to enter Blazes nightclub at midnight last night. He staggered into the road and hailed a taxi, ordering the driver to get him to the hospital. There are reports Briscoe was shot a second and third time as he slumped in the back seat of the cab. The taxi driver called the police and paramedics. The two hooded gunmen sped off in a black van. Briscoe was treated by paramedics and a doctor from the air ambulance team but died at the scene.’
The DCI leading the murder inquiry said, “This appears to be a targeted attack; given Mr Briscoe’s history, it could be linked to drugs. The recent assault we needed to interview him over was also drug-related.”
Armed police and helicopter searches were in progress, as the hunt for the gunman and the getaway car continued. Police say despite a large crowd being outside the nightclub at the time of the shooting, no witnesses provided detectives with information regarding the suspects’ description.’
Monday, 14th April 2014
‘Police are searching for suspects in a violent shooting in Nottingham that took place in the early hours of Monday morning. Delroy Williams, thirty-nine, was killed inside his red Audi. The suspects fired several shots into his car, before fleeing the scene. Nottingham police said gunshots were reported near the junction of Albert Grove and Derby Road, at 1:40 a.m. Minutes later, the father of the victim said he went outside to check on his son because he heard him arguing with someone before the gunshots. The victim was found unresponsive. Paramedics transported Williams to the hospital, where he died a short time later. Family members said Williams had been sitting in his car listening to music, as he often did.’
“Nobody saw a thing, as usual,” said the victim’s mother, Molly Williams. “My husband was woken by gunshots. He went out to see what had happened. We knew Delroy hadn’t arrived home yet. My husband found him in his car.”
‘The investigation was ongoing, police said. Officers blocked off residential streets as they combed the neighbourhood for evidence on Monday morning. The car had been found parked near a row of small businesses. Owners said they were not around when the shooting occurred. Delroy Williams had many friends on social media. Hundreds of posts appeared in the first two hours after his death was reported. The tone of the comments varied. Some said ‘what goes around, comes around’ as Williams had run with street gangs ever since he was eleven years old. Others remembered him as a ‘sweet man, who loved his children’. His ex-wife and current partner were both ‘heartbroken’. When asked what the motive for the killing might have been, police declined to speculate, merely stating it was too early in their investigations to comment.’
*****
The morning meeting at Larcombe featured the normal agenda items. There were updates on surveillance targets around the UK and overseas. The search for the new identity assumed by Ardal James Hannon continued, but with few significant leads.
Hayden Vincent and Kelly Dexter were now installed as the senior training officers. They had been tasked with updating the Olympus manuals. When the recruitment drive Zeus had ordered showed fru
ition, then any new recruits would receive the most up-to-date relevant training.
Athena had received notification of another visit from the Charity Commission. This was to be on Thursday.
“Typical,” she said, “forty-eight hours before the big day. The letter suggests a routine visit, as opposed to a wholescale inspection. We appear to be off the hook, over the issue with Garry Burns’s photograph.”
“I don’t think you’ll hear anything further on that, Athena,” said Artemis, “well, not from the police at least. Any record disappeared once I left the force, and my DCI left not long behind me. It will have been long forgotten at Portishead by now.”
“It might be as well if you are underground while they’re here, Artemis,” said Henry Case.
“I agree,” said Athena, “we need to issue a lockdown order for Thursday, Henry, for the duration of their stay. Minos, Alastor, and I will entertain them here in the main house. If they wish to look around the grounds, then we’ll escort them.”
“Perhaps you could give our nanny the day off?” said Phoenix. “I’ll keep out of their way in our apartment looking after Hope.”
“Giles can hide her away in his quarters,” said Henry, “unless you wish to explain why we have a young Spanish girl here. What would her role be in the charity, if the inspectors stumbled across her, and questioned her?”
It wasn’t only Giles who was taken by surprise. Minos and Alastor didn’t have a clue, but the others knew of the relationship. They hadn’t realised until now, though, that Henry had discovered the truth.
“Maria Elena can look after Hope on Thursday,” said Athena, “there’s no need to alter her routine. If our visitors learn I have a daughter, what of it? As for you, Phoenix, you and Rusty can either go to the ice-house for target practice or visit the recreation area. It’s extremely unlikely they’ll wish to walk far once we’ve answered their questions.
