In Treacherous Waters

by Richard V Frankland

  “You cheating bastard Russians think we in the West are stupid,” said Staunton with quiet menace. “You think that you can sell a car with no wheels and it won’t be noticed.”

  “Why do you say such a thing?” Gorokhin replied, watching as Staunton started to open the desk drawers then move to the corner bookcase. “What are you looking for?”

  “There are pages missing from this notebook and names missing on that memory stick,” replied Staunton, his anger beginning to build.

  “I have put everything on there that the notebook contains, Leonard.”

  Staunton was pulling out books and checking what was behind them, then shaking them for loose pages as Gorokhin replied.

  Picking up a heavy glass paperweight from a shelf Staunton turned. “Do you think that I would accept that without seeing the name of Androv Milakov or Jaska Nikulichev in the index,” shouted Staunton, having noted that his own name was also missing.

  The desire for revenge against the corrupt political system he had run from and the potential the withheld information contained for news of his daughter and yes, even blackmail, had been too great a temptation for Gorokhin, “Do you want me to make something up?”

  Staunton bent down and whispered in the Russian’s ear, “No I want you to complete the work… every… last… word,” before standing and delivering a brutal blow to the side of the old Russian’s head with the paperweight.

  Gorokhin couldn’t reply. The blow to the old man had caused brain damage enough to put him instantly into a vegetative state, jaw dropped but still breathing unable to communicate.

  “Where is the rest?” asked Staunton, almost mildly.

  The Russian, now slumped in his chair, was silent, his eyes staring blankly at the floor. Grabbing Gorokhin by the collar of his cardigan, Staunton yanked him to his feet, “Where is the rest of it!” he screamed. “Tell me, where is it?”

  Gorokhin blinked, his stale breath causing Staunton to tilt his head away, but the old man remained silent, as Staunton shook him like a rag doll. “Answer me, you little Russian shit, answer me!”

  Dropping Gorokhin to the floor Staunton kicked him hard in the chest, then kicked him again, then again and again and again. He knew he had killed the Russian a long time before he had stopped kicking the frail body across the floor. When finally his anger was spent, Staunton returned to the task of searching the house for the missing pages and data, starting with the removal of the computer hard drives. Moving back to the bookshelves his frustration and anger grew again until the search became more of an exercise in trashing the house, but all to no avail.

  ***

  At three o’clock that morning Alice Morgan was woken by Staunton hammering on her front door.

  “Lenny darling what is the matter?” she asked, half asleep.

  “Sir Andrew has found out that I pulled Barry Jacobs’ file two years ago.”

  “Is that important? I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve been using Jacobs for odd jobs where a bit of muscle was required, like dealing with Jan Vermeulen’s stepdaughter and that redheaded bitch Heathcote, something has happened that got Sir Andrew to ask me to search for Jacobs’ SAS file.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, I said that I didn’t know Jacobs but now someone else has discovered that I had his file pulled and Sir Andrew wants an explanation.”

  “Oh. Oh, Lenny why did you do it, what was so important and what has happened to Penny Heathcote?”

  “Bloody Campbell’s job that’s what was so important. All the while he was in Anti Terrorist Command I was making my way up the ladder but he knew I had something to do with David Patterson, his blue eyed boy’s disappearance, so when he came back into SIS he started digging. I used Jacobs to remove some of the information for me.”

  “Is that why you needed to know about Vaughan’s movements?”

  Getting hold of her arm he marched her towards her bedroom. “Have you got a place where you can hide for a few days?”

  “Stop it, Lenny you are frightening me.” The shock of what he had just said alarming her. “Why do I have to hide?”

  “Because they are currently watching my place and when I don’t show at eight o’clock in front of Sir Andrew they will break in and search it.”

  “Well?”

  “The pictures,” he replied, “You know, the ones of us.”

  Alice gasped. “You said you had destroyed those, Lenny. You promised me that you had.”

  “It’s too late now, sweetie, they’ll soon know that you were also involved, so get your case packed while I get my flight organised.”

  “What will happen to us, Lenny, when they catch us?”

  “They won’t catch us if you get a move on. I have a plan in place so don’t worry, sweetie, I have a few of these to cash in,” Staunton said, taking a velvet purse from his pocket and dangling it in front of her, “And a few more due when you deliver a little notebook for me to our generous friend.”

  Fear was now gripping her, “No, Leonard, I’m not doing any more, I’m too scared, Leonard no, you can’t make me do any more.”

  “If you don’t, sweetie, it will be jail and for a long, long time. You see there isn’t enough in this purse to look after both of us and only you can deliver the notebook.”

  “Where are you going to be then? Why can’t you deliver the notebook or would that risk your precious neck.” The threat of being abandoned to her fate and virtually penniless made her hit back with a hostile response.

  “Look, I just need to cover up some things in Spain, then we can meet up for a new life together, how does that sound. Just the two of us with more money than we could earn in SIS in a decade,” replied Staunton regretting his implied threat and knowing the need to keep Alice on side for just a bit longer.

  Alice didn’t answer. To her, the new life together rang falsely in her ears as did the promise of wealth. Her thoughts now were more concerned with the immediate future and a safe place to hide. Several seconds passed in which she recalled a cottage near Lampeter that was not in use at the moment, belonging to some friends of her parents.

  “What if I don’t deliver this notebook thing? What if I just disappear, Leonard, what then?” said Alice, suddenly defiant.

  Staunton knew now that it would only be fear that would get her co-operation.

  “Well, my generous friend, Jan Vermeulen, will be very angry… with you.” The pause in the delivery of his answer sent a chill through Alice from head to toe. She felt more used than ever before and even, yes, violated, by the man she had only the day before been in love with. She shivered, aware of him staring at her waiting for her to respond and knowing that he had the skills to find her wherever she ran to. “Why not just post it to him,” she said.

  “No, it has to be hand delivered, Alice, as he has to give you a small package, your share of the sparklers.”

  “What good would they be to me? I couldn’t sell them, I would be caught in no time,” she replied, stunned by his suggestion.

  “You take them to Rolf Meijer’s in Amsterdam. I will arrange transport for you. A day’s sailing will put some colour in your cheeks, sweetie.”

  “Sailing?”

  “Yes, it’s the best way to get into Holland, you might well be identified at a ferry port,” Staunton replied, casually. Alice shivered again now knowing that to get free she must get deeper involved in his murky scheme.

  Whilst Alice was out of earshot, Staunton secured a seat on a flight to Madeira then stole a glance into the bedroom to see Alice frantically throwing every item of clothing she had into two suitcases together with her most precious personal items, and by the time she had finished she could hardly lift either of them. A hurried trip to the bathroom, and dressing in the clothes she had set aside for the journey, she struggled with the cases to the front door.

  Staunton sat on the settee, his concentration fixed on his mobile phone. He was studying a text message sent several hours before from Sir Andrew
Averrille. “Leonard I have been asked by Anti Terrorist Command to explain why a file on SAS soldier Barry Jacobs was pulled by you some two years ago. I need that answer from you personally at 0800hrs in my office.”

  As soon as he had received the message he knew that it was through Campbell that Anti Terrorist Command had become involved regarding Jacobs; for a period Campbell had been seconded to ATC as part of the shared intelligence and resource programme and Staunton was now wondering how Campbell had got to know of Jacobs. He had left four messages on the man’s phone and was beginning to realise that something had gone wrong in Burgau that had got to the ears of Campbell; if that was the case then David Patterson’s wife and the redheaded cat Heathcote had been found, but that didn’t matter now he had the decoded version of Vermeulen’s notebook. What was essential was to make use of all that information and to complete the deal for the Kazakov arms cache then get it moved on quickly in order to be in the game for a move into Cabinda Province and takeover Vermeulen’s turf before others knew that Vermeulen was basically out of business there.

  “I’m ready, Leonard.”

  “Right, sweetie. How do you fancy living in Chile?” Staunton replied, noting that she had dropped even the mildly irritating “Lenny”. However, the omission of the endearment stung him; was she thinking of dumping him?

  “We won’t ever make it to Chile, Leonard, not together anyway.”

  “Don’t say that, sweetie, it will turn out fine you’ll see,” he replied, now sure that her usefulness was coming to an end. Just two more favours and she would be en route to Istanbul.

  All the way to the airport Staunton worked on a charm offensive, he still needed her to deliver the notebook and collect the stones as payment. It was a cause of mild amusement to him how it was that women were so much more physically suited to smuggle diamonds across borders than men. Once she had got them to his man in Amsterdam would she be any further use to him? Before that night he would probably have kept her for a time, but the switch to “Leonard” sounded rather, well, terminal in their relationship, definitely the Istanbul route from Amsterdam would be best, penniless of course.

  ***

  “We’ll get a taxi to Kingsbridge as soon as we can; I have a room there where you both should be safe for a week or so.” It was the afternoon following the disappearance of Staunton and Alice Morgan, and the ferry from Santander was entering Plymouth Sound.

  “You still keep that room on then, Ian?”

  “Yes, I didn’t need anywhere else, living on my boat most of the time. Her sinking may well alter that unless the UK Government stump up for a replacement, but as I wasn’t working for them at the time, well, we will see.”

  “It will depend on whether Staunton completes his con trick,” said Heathcote. “My advice would be to tell no one that we are here.”

  Vaughan nodded, “You’re right, we keep out of sight until we are sure it’s safe.”

  The taxi ride was a new experience for Anna-Maria who had never seen the English countryside before. “Everything is so green and I love some of these houses, they are so quaint.”

  “The green grass is thanks to the rainfall but agreed, some of the property in this area of Devon, which is called The South Hams, is very attractive.”

  “Didn’t you have a job down here before you joined us, Ian?”

  “Yes, Yealmstoke Head, my last honest days’ work.”

  “Don’t let the Commodore hear you say that.”

  “Why not, I struggle still to find anything solid in what I do now.”

  “I know that the Commodore thinks you do solid work, so don’t you forget it.”

  Vaughan turned in the seat to look at her and saw the commanding lieutenant look in her eyes, then her expression softened and she smiled at him.

  In Kingsbridge, Vaughan knocked at the door to the cottage where he rented the first floor. “Just a minute,” he heard through the kitchen fanlight.

  When the door opened a rather flustered Miranda Cox looked at them blankly.

  “Hi, Miranda, I thought I better knock rather than use my key,” said Vaughan.

  “Good God, Ian, I didn’t recognise you. You are as brown as a berry, where have you been?”

  “Oh swanning around, Miranda, doing a bit of this and a bit of that, you know. Let me introduce you to Penny and Anna-Maria.”

  “Oh, yes er, pleased to meet you, I’m Miranda Cox, Ian’s landlady. This is a surprise, Ian, it’s been months since I last saw you. Come in all of you, er sorry about the mess I’m in the middle of a project.”

  In the tiny living room a huge canvas was set on an easel beneath a bright spotlight. The subject was a middle-aged man standing proudly wearing a chain of office.

  “The local mayor?”

  “Yes, Ian, he is. Counsellor Gilbert Dashwood,” she informed. “Would you like some coffee, I need a break from this.”

  When she returned with a tray of mugs, Miranda asked, “What brings you back to these parts, I was beginning to think you were gone forever.”

  “Well in fact I’m not back just yet, I have a couple of little jobs to finish first, but I would appreciate it if my two friends could stay here for a while.”

  Miranda gave Penny and Anna-Maria a closer look. “They are not in any trouble are they, I don’t want the police knocking at the door.”

  Penny gave Miranda a hurt look.

  “No they are not in any trouble, Miranda, I assure you,” said Vaughan chuckling at the thought. “They just need a place to stay while their flat in London is being refurbished,” replied Vaughan, making up the story about the flat on the spur of the moment.

  “Oh I see, they’ll need another bed put up there, surely you thought of that before bringing them all the way down to Devon?”

  “Yes, Miranda, I’ve got it all in hand.”

  The flat pack bed and mattress was delivered an hour later and Anna-Maria assisted Vaughan in assembling it while Heathcote tried to contact Lorna, giving up after the twelfth attempt.

  They had been discussing where to have dinner when Heathcote’s mobile rang.

  “Hello,” she said cautiously.

  “It’s me, Lorna, where are you?”

  “We are back in England, Lorna, any news?”

  “Jackson finally got a response to who pulled the file on Jacobs, guess who it was?”

  “Staunton.”

  “Oh, yes it was, but you didn’t know that he apparently did a runner yesterday together with a signal clerk named Alice Morgan.”

  “So now we know how Staunton got himself to Gibraltar so quickly, he had a pair of ears and eyes in the communications room.”

  Vaughan gave Heathcote a questioning look, to which she held up her hand as if to say, please wait.

  “The Commodore has been asked to return, by the PM no less, and Sir Andrew Averrille’s future is under review, or so the Commodore understands. He will get the top job if Sir Andrew goes.”

  “Any orders?”

  “The Commodore wondered whether Vaughan wanted his job back, and if so to report to SIS headquarters as soon as possible.”

  “He has a job for him?”

  “Yes, he is to find Staunton, and a little black book.”

  “Oh. Tell him he will be on his way in a couple of hours,” Heathcote said in a tone that indicated both disappointment and regret.

  When she put the phone down Vaughan asked, “What have you just volunteered me for?”

  “You are back on the payroll with instructions to report to SIS HQ immediately, the Commodore wants you to find Staunton, apparently he pulled Jacobs’ SAS file from records two years ago and has now done a runner together with a communication room girl called Alice Morgan.”

  “How do you know I want the job back?”

  Heathcote looked shocked, “Don’t be daft, of course you do.”

  “I might have got one over on Staunton at Gibraltar but hunting down a trained killer like him is not an attractive job prospect.”
<
br />   “I’m sorry, Ian, I should not have made the assumption, but you are the only person the Commodore can trust, no one knows how far Staunton’s tentacles have reached.” Again there was the tone of regret in her voice, she paused as if summoning the courage to say something more. “Frankly I don’t want you to go but, like the Commodore, I believe you are the one most likely to succeed.” Then the tears came, “Sod it, sod it, sod it! It is like David all over again,” she said now looking directly at Anna-Maria.

  “You mean, my David, don’t you, Penny.”

  Heathcote nodded then sat heavily on the bed, “I, we were, as they say, an item when he joined SIS, then Angola and…”

  Vaughan crossed the room and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, twenty minutes later he emerged to pack a suitcase and found Heathcote and Anna-Maria sat side by side on the new bed, Anna-Maria with an arm around Heathcote’s shoulders and the other hand holding Heathcote’s. “I must leave now before I tell the Commodore to go to hell.”

  Checking the contents of his case Vaughan checked his pockets then, handing Anna-Maria the front door key said, “Look after Penny please,” and left.

  CHAPTER 11

  At ten o’clock that evening Vaughan swiped his badge across the pad to the side gate on the Albert Road main entrance to SIS Head Quarters, to his surprise the gate slid back letting him through.

  “Good evening, Mr Vaughan, can you put your case on here, Sir, and open it for me.”

  Vaughan complied noting that the man did not look at the case but kept his eyes firmly fixed on Vaughan.

  “Now if you would go across to my colleague, Sir, and empty your pockets and check in your weapon, Sir,” continued the security officer, “We will check your case and weapon into the reception luggage store, you will need this to collect it on the way out.”

  The officer handed Vaughan what looked like a hotel key then pointed in the direction of his colleague.

  Placing just the pistol on the table next to his wallet and the other items the second officer asked, “And your shoulder holster please, Mr Vaughan.”