The Demon Club
Page 11
Wolf gazed down the mountainside towards the lights of Albarracín in the distance. ‘Story of my life. All these years I dreamed of the day when I’d come back here. Putting it off, putting it off, always another excuse not to. Then when the time finally comes, no sooner am I getting settled in but I’m being recalled for duty.’
‘It’s not going anywhere, Jaden. It waited for you all this time. It’ll still be here when this is over. Then you can get on with your new life in peace. And I’ll go back to mine. The only thing that will have changed is that there are fewer bad guys in this world.’
‘That’s assuming I don’t get myself killed in the process.’
‘That consideration never stopped you in the past.’
‘I’m older and wiser now.’
Ben pointed over at the dead Spaniard. ‘I can tell, from the way you made all these new friends so soon after your arrival.’
‘Let’s say I agree,’ Wolf said, with a twinkle in his eye as Ben’s plan slowly, visibly began to grow on him. ‘Taking this fight to the enemy means we’d need to slip back into Britain undetected. Risky. They have eyes everywhere.’
‘Which I assume is the reason you’re travelling under the name Jack Cullen. I’m guessing that isn’t one of the fake IDs that your former employers supplied you with.’
‘Aren’t you the clever one. And you are?’
‘Paul Harris.’
‘So where’s Ben Hope?’
‘Looking for you,’ Ben said. ‘Where exactly, is anyone’s guess.’
‘Great minds think alike. Pleased to meet you, Mr Harris.’
‘But if we’re going to do this,’ Ben said, ‘then we need to get moving right now. Every minute that goes by is another minute that these people have a gun pointed at Grace’s head. Are you with me or not?’
Wolf broke into a grin. ‘You always were a persuasive bastard.’
‘Your answer, Jaden. Yes or no?’
‘What the fuck. I’m in. So what’s the plan?’
Ben said, ‘First thing, we need to make sure that you’re dead.’
Chapter 19
Long before Ben and Wolf had started making their plans, back at Le Val Jeff and Tuesday had been thrashing out a strategy of their own. After retreating to their quarters to snatch whatever sleep their worries would allow, they’d reconvened in the farmhouse to resume their conversation over mugs of strong black coffee. By the time the morning sun was peeking above the woodlands surrounding Le Val, the pair were close to deciding that their only option was to get involved and help their friend in his time of obvious trouble.
‘The only question is, get involved how?’ Tuesday had asked, not for the first time during their long conversation. ‘He specifically told us to butt out. What if we made some wrong move without realising it, and went and screwed everything up?’
‘Then we’ll just have to be bloody careful, then, won’t we?’ Jeff said. ‘I can’t sit by and twiddle my thumbs. If you haven’t got your mate’s back in a tight spot, what does that make you?’
‘I want to help, too. Problem is, we don’t have the first idea what this is all about. We don’t even know where he’s gone. London’s not exactly a small place.’
Jeff agreed. ‘Hunting for him there would be like trying to find a fart at a sewage plant. No point in even trying.’
Tuesday slurped coffee and looked deflated. ‘So we literally don’t even know where to start.’
Jeff thought for a moment, then said, ‘Maybe we do. Just because he couldn’t go to Scotland for whatever reason, doesn’t mean we can’t.’
Tuesday wasn’t comfortable with the idea. ‘I don’t know, Jeff. Sounds like taking a risk to me. If we’re right and she’s being watched—’
‘You ever been to Scotland before?’ Jeff cut in.
‘Can’t say I have.’
‘Last time I was there was with the SBS, visiting HMNB Clyde, years ago.’ The naval base, thirty-five miles from Glasgow, was home to Britain’s arsenal of nuclear weapons, a key potential target for attack and therefore an important location for the Royal Navy’s own Special Forces units. ‘The point being,’ Jeff went on, ‘that nobody knows our faces in Grace’s neck of the woods, including whoever might be watching her. We’d be just two strangers in town, while we scope things out. Keep an eye. See what’s what.’
‘She lives in some tiny, remote Highland village,’ Tuesday said. ‘Population of about thirty people and a dog, right? Now, I’m no expert on the demographics of rural Scotland, but I’m pretty sure that a black guy is going to stick out like a sore thumb there. The locals have probably never even seen one before, except on TV.’
‘Hiding in plain sight,’ Jeff said. ‘They’ll be so busy wondering about you, nobody’ll stop to ask what we’re really doing there.’
Tuesday wasn’t at all reassured by his friend’s optimism. ‘Wonderful. And has it occurred to you that the bad guys, whoever they are, have presumably seen our ugly mugs plastered over the Le Val website? Which means, if they know who Ben is, then it’s a fair bet they know who we are, too.’
‘It’s a reasonable point,’ Jeff conceded.
Tuesday said, ‘It gets worse. A thought came to me earlier, just as I was finally starting to nod off, and got me in a sweat.’
‘What?’
‘Well, we’ve deduced that Ben might be under instructions not to make contact with her. Right?’
Jeff nodded. ‘Right. So?’
‘So therefore, if he did, whoever’s making this threat against her would know about it. Or else, why would Ben be so insistent that we didn’t pick up her calls?’
‘Okay,’ Jeff said.
‘Which means the bad guys, whoever the hell they are, must be monitoring her phone. And maybe ours, too. Not just the landline, but we have to assume that all mobiles and email accounts are potentially compromised. Why else would Ben have left his usual phone behind and taken his burners instead?’
‘Makes sense.’
‘Which tells me that we’re not dealing with any old ordinary bunch of thugs, extortionists, or whatever. It’s someone with means, power and influence. We’re dealing with professionals.’
‘And so are they,’ Jeff said. ‘Because we’re professionals too.’
‘Hardly in the same league,’ Tuesday replied. ‘Who can do stuff like that? Intelligence agencies and governments, that’s who.’
‘You’re shooting in the dark, Tues,’ Jeff told him. ‘I was with you on the first part, but now you’re going way off the track. Stacking assumptions on top of conjecture on top of guesswork.’ Jeff Dekker’s vocabulary did actually include a few longish words, and he was liable to come out with them from time to time.
‘What, it doesn’t worry you who we might be up against here?’ Tuesday asked.
‘I’ll worry about it when I know the real facts. Right now I’m not buying the idea that Ben and Grace are in the sights of some covert government agency. It’s nuts, frankly. She’s a rural police constable and he’s …’
‘He’s Ben Hope,’ Tuesday finished for him. ‘Anything’s possible.’
‘Still not buying it, Tues. Government agents? Give me a break. I’ll bet you a hundred you’re wrong.’
‘I’ll take that bet. And you can be as sceptical as you like, but you can’t deny the facts are worrying. If they can tap phones and spy on emails, how do we know they can’t track our movements?’
Jeff shrugged. ‘Let them try. Anyhow, I’d already thought about that. If Ben’s travelling incognito, even if we don’t know his reasons yet, we should do the same.’
Tuesday asked, ‘So how exactly do you plan on sneaking into Britain off the radar? Funnily enough, I don’t happen to possess a fake passport, and I’m fairly sure you don’t either.’
‘Nope, never have.’
‘Then what do you propose? That we call this Thierry character, Ben’s old forger, and get him to rustle us up a pair PDQ? Express service, guaranteed same day delivery or your
money back.’
Jeff shook his head. ‘Won’t be necessary, mate. There’s another way.’
Tuesday listened as Jeff sketched out his plan, and after some more debate, they finally agreed on their course of action.
Over the next hour the pair of them got to work. As far as anyone on the outside was concerned, it had to look like business as usual at Le Val. Jeff arranged to leave all the training classes for the next couple of days in the capable hands of Richard and Serge, the two assistant trainers who’d recently joined the team. Meanwhile Tuesday guiltily searched through Ben’s personal phone and contacts book and copied out Grace Kirk’s address in Kinlochardaich, Scotland. If indeed she was being watched, and the watchers knew the identities of Ben’s colleagues at Le Val, then her home would have to be approached with extreme care.
With their arrangements all made, just after eight a.m. they jumped into Jeff’s souped-up Ford Ranger pickup truck and hustled the thirteen kilometres to the flight school where Jeff’s new pride and joy was kept in its own hangar, fully fuelled and ready for action. As Jeff explained en route, the old Cessna Skyhawk’s 800-mile range would see them easily across the Channel and as far inland across the UK as Wrexham in north Wales, a 330-mile trip each way.
‘Why Wrexham?’ asked Tuesday, who was losing the thread as Jeff babbled excitedly on.
‘Because that’s where Reaper’s place is.’
‘Whose place?’
‘Don’t you listen to a word I say? Reaper Rigby. An old SBS pal of mine. He’s got a farm with plenty of private land that we can use as an airstrip. I already called him this morning. It’s all set up.’
‘Don’t we need to notify someone? Paperwork to fly out of the country? What about border controls?’
Jeff grinned widely at him. ‘What border controls?’
‘Forget I asked. Anyhow, last time I looked, north Wales is a long way from the Scottish Highlands.’
Jeff elbowed Tuesday in the ribs with another ear-to-ear grin. ‘Hey, who’re you gonna trust? Your uncle Jeff’s got the whole thing organised. Reaper has a van he’s lending us for the road trip. It’s only a six-hour drive. Piece of piss, mate.’
‘It’s what happens when we get there that I’m worried about.’
It was 8.17 a.m. when they reached the flying school and Jeff screeched the Ranger to a halt outside his hangar. He quickly removed the padlocks securing the steel shutter doors, and rolled them up with a noisy clatter to reveal the blue-and-white high-wing single-engined aircraft stored within. The scuffed and battered machine showed every day of its fifty-three years.
It was the first time that Tuesday had ever laid eyes on Jeff’s new toy. He stood in the hangar entrance staring at it in dismay. ‘Hey, in all the rush I forgot to mention that the Wright brothers called. They want their flying machine back.’
‘Very funny. Come on and give me a hand getting her rolled out.’
‘Are you sure this bag of rusty nails can even get off the ground?’
Jeff stepped up to the Cessna and lovingly slapped its fuselage. Nothing actually dropped off. ‘Get your head out of your arse, mate. She’s a classic. Now quit whingeing and let’s rock and roll.’
Chapter 20
‘I thought we had an agreement about that,’ Wolf said. ‘The you not killing me part.’
Ben replied, ‘We do, but I’m not about to let Saunders, or Curnow, in on our secret. He’s expecting results. And he’s not going to take my word for it, either. He doesn’t want to hear that you’re dead. He wants to as good as see it for himself.’
Ben told Wolf about the number he’d been instructed to call when the job was done. Saunders would then most likely send out an agent to eyeball the evidence and report back to their boss with a verification.
‘So how do you plan on killing me but leaving me alive?’
Ben thought for a moment, then pointed at Wolf’s teeth. ‘I never asked you, but those must have been pricey.’
Wolf looked a little surprised by the question, but he answered, ‘All the money in the world, as far as I was concerned back then.’
‘Custom made, specially for you.’
‘There isn’t another guy in the world with gnashers the same.’
‘That’s what I thought. Now, I’m thinking that a cautious man who made a good living and could afford to have a spare made would carry it around with him as a backup.’
‘I do, as it happens.’ Wolf pointed at the holdall. ‘Gold and titanium, an exact duplicate of the one I’m wearing.’
‘What are you, five foot eleven?’
Again, Wolf looked taken aback by the question, but again he came back with his reply. ‘Five ten and a half. Half an inch shorter than you.’
‘Weight around one-eighty?’
‘One-eight-two.’
‘Then we know what to look for.’ Ben motioned at the dead man they’d dumped at the edge of the rocky hollow. ‘This guy’s out of the running, unless we can persuade Saunders’ people that the late, lamented Jaden Wolf sprouted a metal hook for a hand before his demise.’
Wolf understood what Ben was thinking. ‘You want to use one of them as a decoy.’
‘With any luck one of his friends will be a closer match. Give or take an inch and a few pounds here and there. Doesn’t really matter, because there won’t be a hell of a lot left to examine after we’re done with him.’
Wolf gave a nasty grin. ‘Oh, you sick puppy. That’s ugly. But will it be enough to fool them?’
‘I’m not kidding myself,’ Ben said. ‘Best case scenario, they take one look at the body with the gold teeth and go away satisfied that it’s you. Worst case, they’re going to get serious about establishing a cast-iron ID, and take the remains away for DNA testing against samples from your apartment. In which case we’re not off the hook—’
‘So to speak.’
‘—but we’ve bought ourselves a little time. A few days, maybe, before they realise they’ve been tricked.’
‘A few days isn’t what you’d call a large window of opportunity,’ Wolf said.
‘That’s where you come in,’ Ben told him. ‘While they’re looking the other way, you’ll be leading us straight to them.’
Wolf looked doubtful. ‘It’s a tight one, Ben. What about your girlfriend? Just takes one call, the instant the jig is up. They won’t hesitate.’
Ben’s jaw clenched tight. ‘We hit them hard enough, fast enough, they won’t have time to make that call.’
‘And if they do?’
‘It’s not an option.’
‘That all you got?’
‘It’s what I’ve got,’ Ben said. ‘So let’s make it work.’
By Wolf’s count, he had taken out five of the attackers who’d come for him that night. With the hook-handed would-be killer Ben had shot making up the half dozen, it seemed that they’d got them all. There’d been no sign of the Peugeot van taking off. Ben could only presume it was still down there.
The bodies were scattered across the escarpment and it took some time to gather them all together and lay them out in a row on the edge of a deep, dark, wooded ravine. Ben and Wolf stood over them and sized up all six to decide which was the best candidate for a decoy.
‘That one there,’ Wolf said, pointing, and Ben nodded in agreement. The dead Spaniard was about quarter of an inch shorter than Wolf, just a little heavier, but the best of the bunch.
The remainder of the bodies, they dumped into the ravine along with their various rifles and shotguns. It was unlikely they’d be found for a long time. Ben frisked their chosen decoy for ID. The dead guy was carrying a wallet that contained some cash and a driver’s licence that identified him as Alejandro Morales. He was also carrying a handy little stiletto knife in a boot sheath, which Ben appropriated for himself as spoils of war.
Next, it was time for the nasty part. Ben had never wanted to be a dentist, and he had no real desire to start his apprenticeship now. At least the patient wouldn’t have any ob
jection to his primitive methods. Ben yanked the dead man’s jaws apart and jammed a rock in there to wedge his mouth open while he used the hilt and blade of the stiletto to knock and pry out as many of his crooked, caried teeth as necessary to make Wolf’s spare denture fit. Alejandro would never have won any prizes for his lovely smile when he was alive, but by the time Ben had finished with him his mouth looked like a rat-hole.
‘You’re actually pretty good at that,’ Wolf commented as the last tooth came out. ‘All else fails, you could have a new career.’
Ben removed the rock wedge and stuffed the gold and titanium denture into position, then sat back to assess his handiwork. Not exactly a tailor-made fit, but a definite improvement over Alejandro’s originals. Feeling faintly nauseous he wiped the blood and saliva off his hands and the knife. Wolf said, ‘I have some spare clothing in my bag, if you want to dress him up as me.’
‘Won’t be necessary,’ Ben replied. ‘Their vehicle’s parked down below. Help me get him down there.’
Chapter 21
They humped the body down the rocky slope by the armpits and ankles, Wolf carrying his holdall over his shoulder. As Ben had expected, the crapped-out old Peugeot J7 van was still parked in the same moonlit spot. ‘You want him inside or outside?’ Wolf asked as they lugged the corpse up to the vehicle.
‘Stick him behind the wheel,’ Ben said. ‘Like you were trying to get away when I shot you.’
‘Works for me.’
They opened the driver’s door and hoisted Alejandro’s dead weight halfway in, then Ben clambered in the passenger side and dragged him the rest of the way, turned him upright and propped him behind the wheel. Once the body was in position, Ben got out and walked around the side of the vehicle to where the fuel filler cap was situated above the rear wheel. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed. A lot of these old commercial vehicles had been made with petrol engines, instead of diesel. So had this one. Perfect. Because diesel was much harder to ignite.
Ben walked back around to the nose of the van and positioned himself fifteen yards in front. Wolf edged to one side as Ben took out his pistol and aimed at the van’s windscreen where Alejandro was sitting. He put five shots through the glass, then popped a couple more into the bonnet and radiator for good measure, to make it look like he’d been rattling off a stream of gunfire as the truck sped towards him. He put the pistol away and went back to the driver’s window. Three of his bullets had punched a group into Alejandro’s chest. Good enough. There was barely any blood. Dead men don’t bleed.