by Ray Scott
He suddenly turned around as a thought struck him.
‘When you took the discs with you, did you clear the screen?’
‘No, I don’t think I did.’
‘So while they may have realised that you’ve taken one of their memory sticks, the one that was in the computer at the time, they would also know what’s on it.’
‘Yes,’ Wallace said slowly, waiting for the abuse. ‘They probably do.’
‘So they won’t rest until they catch us. How the hell do we get miles away without being caught on the way? How many cars did you say were in the driveway?’
‘Three, they may have access to more.’
‘How far are we to the nearest town?’
McKay squinted at the signpost they were approaching; they could just see it over the top of the hedge.
‘We seem to be near a place called Shifnal; this road leads to Bridgnorth. That one over there…’ McKay pointed off to the left: ‘…goes to Shrewsbury.’
‘Then this railway must be the main Wolverhampton to Shrewsbury line,’ Wallace suggested and McKay pursed his lips.
‘Apart from anything else, assuming we survive the day, we’ll need some food…any ideas?’
‘Steal it,’ Wallace suggested.
McKay nodded.
‘A good idea as suggested by a true Australian. But, and it’s a big but, by so doing we may draw attention to ourselves. How much cash have you got?’
They compared wallets, Wallace’s had been left untouched by his captors, they didn’t appear to have been interested in robbery, merely making sure he was held under restraint. He had about £30.
They hung around Shifnal, a large village, until the shops opened. McKay, who looked more presentable than Wallace did despite the scuffling he had done when the enemy had briefly caught up, went into a local shop and purchased some items of food. As they examined their spoils Wallace could feel his mouth watering. McKay had bought two cartons of milk, coffee flavoured, a couple of apple pies and some bars of chocolate. He had also purchased a small packet of cheese biscuits and some small triangles of cheese.
‘Not what a dietician would recommend, but good enough,’ commented McKay, as they finished it all off. ‘OK, let’s head for Bridgnorth.’
‘Why not Wolverhampton?’
‘Because I feel that is where they would calculate we would head for.’
There was probably logic in that so they commenced walking along the Bridgnorth road. Luck favoured them, there were a few lorries going up and down, they had to wait until the road was devoid of other traffic before trying to flag anyone down, they didn’t want to be seen trying to hitch a lift in full view of one of their pursuers’ vehicles. Eventually they hitched a lift separately. McKay deemed it best if they hitched lifts as individuals and Wallace tended to agree with that. Two men hitching rides on a lesser main road early in the morning could appear suspicious or threatening to even the most seasoned lorry driver.
They accomplished this successfully, McKay hid by the side of the road while Wallace waved a truck down. It ground to a halt and the driver leaned over.
‘Where to mate?’
‘Bridgnorth!’
‘OK mate, hop in!’
He finally dropped Wallace on a road parallel to the river where he could see a town on the hill on the other side.
‘There is it, mate. All the best.’
Wallace alighted, thanked him kindly and sat down on the river bank, keeping an eye on the road.
Another truck eventually appeared from the same direction; Wallace rose to his feet and walked onto the road bridge that crossed the River Severn. He saw the truck stop, and when it drove off McKay was standing on the opposite of the road. He gave a wave, crossed the road and they met on the bridge.
‘What now?’
‘We’ll head for Kidderminster, and the railway. But we’ll keep off buses. Today is Saturday, we’ll use the railway from Bridgnorth.’
‘But there isn’t a railway from Bridgnorth,’ Wallace objected.
‘Yes there is, it’s a private tourist line and it runs passenger trains from Kidderminster to Bridgnorth and back again. Being a tourist railway, it’s going to be expensive, but it’s better than walking or hitching lifts. Come on, Bridgnorth is divided into two parts, High Town and Low Town, Low Town is where we are now. We’ll have to get going up this hill towards High Town. The railway is up this way, I think from memory it’s mid way between the two.’
They made themselves unobtrusive at the Bridgnorth Railway Station, Wallace could not resist a feeling of puzzlement that a national railway could have closed a branch line to such a desirable resort because Bridgnorth was full of historical buildings and the cliff top railway was another attraction.
However, the private railway entrepreneurs had done an excellent job and the station and yard were full of activity, engines and rolling stock. The enthusiastic railway staff were preparing to receive the first train coming up the line from Kidderminster, so McKay purchased tickets and they settled down to wait. They wandered around the museum and bookstall while they were waiting; Wallace was so engrossed that he almost forgot the seriousness of their situation.
Eventually they heard a whistle down the track and soon spotted the column of steam in the air. The locomotive clanked its way slowly into the station, with much blowing and hissing of steam, something that Wallace had almost forgotten relating to trains. The engine was unhitched and another was connected to the rear end ready to pull out for the run back to Kidderminster.
Passengers flocked onto the platforms taking shots of the station and the locomotives, while McKay and Wallace sauntered down, produced their tickets and boarded the train.
As the train eventually hauled out of Bridgnorth and headed south for Bewdley and the River Severn, Wallace felt an overwhelming sensation of relief. McKay sensed this and eyed him soberly.
‘Don’t relax yet, we’ve barely started,’ he cautioned. ‘We’ve got to reach London, that’s well over 100 miles away. Our task is to get these memory sticks into the High Commission, or maybe we can ask for someone to come out and fetch them, but our main problem will be to get into the building ourselves, without stopping a bullet apiece.’
Wallace shuddered and felt his entrails begin to curl.
‘Did you see what was on the screen at all?’
‘I’ve already told you, it just appeared to be a company like structure, a family tree if you like, similar to the normal organisational chart you see on the walls of offices…a line management theme.’
‘Did you see any names?’
‘No, I just had a quick look and then whipped the drive out, and picked up the other two from the plastic box on the desk.’
‘You did well,’ said McKay, and lowered his voice as another passenger walked past their seats. They had a table between them, typical of the old GWR carriages, and were facing each other.
The train was not over full at this point; those who had come up from Kidderminster on the first train in the morning would stay in Bridgnorth, possibly for the day, and return later. The return train was almost empty, but would no doubt be very full when it returned again to Bridgnorth from Kidderminster later in the day.
Wallace looked around nervously, feeling that the dearth of passengers would make them more conspicuous. McKay appeared to sense his disquiet and the reason for it and nodded to him.
‘You’re worried about the lack of passengers and that we may stand out. You may be right…for once!’ he added pointedly.
‘But never mind…,’ he added hastily when he saw Wallace bridle; ‘…we’re here now. Getting back to the flash drives, we must get them to the High Commission. They may prove what we are suspecting.’
‘And what is that, for Heavens Sake?’
‘The Indonesian Government is having problems with secessionists, comprised of Left Wing guerrillas, bandits or fundamentalists who oppose them and want their own type of regimes. With the number of islands t
hat make up the state itself it would be a marvel if there wasn’t somebody, somewhere, who wanted to secede.’
‘I remember we had a similar occurrence ourselves with Western Australia back in the 1930’s,’ Wallace said.
‘Yes, yes, we did,’ McKay agreed. ‘I remember my grandfather was all in favour of it. Well, returning to Indonesia, despite this the Jakarta Government is now more democratic and fairly secure in the saddle; nothing short of a full scale revolution will topple it. This doesn’t seem to be imminent.’
‘So?’
‘Let’s get to where you come in, so much I do know as I’m conversant with Bramble’s methods and thought processes.’
‘I’m glad somebody is,’ Wallace snorted cynically.
McKay ignored the sally and continued on, after a pause to allow another of the few passengers to wander past.
‘One of the bones of contention between Australia and Indonesia has been the killing of the Australian newsmen, remember that?’
‘Will any Australian ever forget it?’ Wallace responded.
‘Well, I reckon some have, some of those in government from time to time. But never mind that, Bramble was informed that there was hard evidence of the complicity of the military and the government of the day, Indonesian that is, in their killing and that the proof would be forthcoming if we could send someone in to fetch it.’
‘Meaning me?’
‘Yes, as it happened, meaning you. Many of our operatives are known to the Indonesians, the same as many of theirs are known to us. It would have been out of the question for Major Lincoln to wander into the old university and become involved in the handover, there’s a tail on him as soon as he leaves the Embassy gates. They probably have a dossier for every time he farts.’
‘Major Lincoln?’ Wallace was incredulous. ‘Fart?’
McKay permitted himself a smile.
‘What I’m trying to say is…!’ McKay suddenly creased up with laughter and as Wallace thought of the upright and disciplined Major Lincoln he broke up as well.
‘What I am attempting to say is…’ McKay controlled himself with an effort as the funny side of it struck him again ‘…that Lincoln would merely lead them to anyone he contacts.’
‘As it was the messenger led them to me,’ Wallace said bitterly.
‘Do you want me to finish or not?’ McKay grated impatiently.
‘All right, sorry. Go ahead.’
‘You were handy…er…available to Bramble,’ he amended his sentence hastily as he saw Wallace look indignant. ‘As a former member of our mob you were asked to do the job, you had the advantage of passing through that area anyway and acting in your normal capacity, which was delivering an address to a university audience.’
‘Conducting one’s normal activities or profession is not necessarily a guarantee for cover,’ Wallace said coldly. ‘Look what happened to Greville-Wynn.’
McKay bit his lip and inclined his head to one side. Greville-Wynn had been a British businessman who had carried out assignments for MI 6 when he was abroad in Eastern Europe at Trade fairs, until he had been arrested at one of them by the KGB.
‘Yes, yes, all right,’ McKay said dismissively. ‘Where was I?’
‘You were saying what an ideal courier I was.’
‘That was not my idea, it was Bramble’s,’ said McKay. ‘You were also unknown to the opposition and you were cheap.’
‘Well I’m not unknown to them now, thanks to your bloody courier leading them straight to me,’ snapped Wallace and then the latter part of McKay’s statement registered. ‘What do you mean, cheap?’
McKay gave a chuckle.
‘I wondered when you’d lock onto that. What I’m really saying is that with our bloody budget and Left Wing governments who think we’re the equivalent of a Fascist party organisation, using you suited our budget.’
Wallace’s indignation rose to the fore and then subsided. He remembered that Bramble had made similar bitter comments to him while in Australia.
‘All right, point taken,’ he said grudgingly.
‘What you had to collect was a computer flash drive. On that flash drive were reproductions of photographs taken at the scene and also copies of some documents.’
‘Did they prove anything?’
‘I can’t tell you that,’ McKay eyed a young woman in tight jeans appreciatively as she moved past them. ‘And I mean can’t, because I don’t know for sure. All I can tell you is that the information was passed on by the High Commission all right and eventually made its way to the appropriate Canberra department. What they made of it or gleaned from it is their business, but they are keeping it close to their chests and not broadcasting it to low life like you and me.’
Wallace grunted cynically, for all the trouble that wretched flash drive had caused him he reckoned he should have been one of the first to know what was in it.
‘That completed your assignment as far as we were concerned, what we didn’t realise was that your presence and involvement gave Kalim a chance to build a smoke screen for what he had in mind.’
‘Where does he come in?’
‘Kalim is a member of the Security Police, he is well known to us. Until recently we thought that this was all he was, until he suddenly appeared in London. Since then we have been making more enquiries about him.’
‘And…?’
‘There are several brands of opposition in Indonesia, as presumably you’d find in every country. But basically you have extremists who are fighting in the hills, and the moderates who tend to try and change things from within the system. We don’t know, but we suspect Kalim may have contacts with some extreme fundamentalists; maybe these memory sticks or flash drives will give a hint in that direction. Ravindran was a popular figure in the Centre Left which was why he was virtually exiled in London. The Government wasn’t too bothered about him so long as he stayed where he was, in London.’
He paused and looked around, seemed satisfied and continued.
‘The fundamentalists and the extreme Left wanted to be rid of him, he was too much of a focal point and would distract support from them if the central government was toppled, he might even be approached to form a government. So he had to be removed.’
‘And neither of them wanted his murder attributed to them.’
‘That’s right. How much more convenient to find a scapegoat from outside, and better still to find an Australian who had links, however tenuous, with ASIO or ASIS.’
‘Which was me?’
‘You fitted the bill perfectly, you were due to come to London within the year, Kalim knew this because you told him,’ McKay looked quite smug as he finished.
‘I’d say that’s a fair assessment,’ Wallace commented.
‘You would?’ McKay was clearly startled by his acquiescence.
‘I would, it conforms with what Kalim told me last night – he compared Ravindran with Kerensky who led Russian briefly after the Tsar was deposed.’
‘He told you everything?’
‘Not as much as you’ve told me, but what he did say confirms what you’ve said.’
‘My God! We got you out just in time then, if he told you that he was quite confident you never live to tell it to anyone else.’
Wallace felt himself go cold and shivered.
‘Incidentally,’ he said, cursing himself as his voice nearly went up two octaves in fright. ‘Do you know a man called Juan?’
‘Juan?’
‘Yes. Kalim was talking to him on the phone just before I broke out,’ Wallace emphasised the pronoun ‘I’ as he was smarting at McKay’s assumption that he and ASIO had got him out. Wallace reckoned he had got himself out…maybe with some help from McKay after Fino had pounced on him.
‘What was he talking about to this Juan?’
‘Me! Juan was going to do the job. He was also the waiter at the restaurant where Kalim tried to drug or poison me, and he turned up in Kalim’s flat…!’
‘You mean your flat!’
snorted McKay.
‘The hell it was,’ Wallace snapped angrily. ‘That bloody apartment was nothing to do with me.’
‘Hush!’ McKay placed a reproving forefinger over his lips. ‘Keep your voice down, do you want to broadcast everything to all the other passengers?’
Wallace relapsed into a seething silence. Bugger McKay… he thought savagely, the bastard always managed to slip one between the ribs.
‘This Juan, he is one of Kalim’s men?’
‘He doesn’t seem to be,’ Wallace shook his head. ‘Not the way he speaks to Kalim, they seem to be more equal in status.’
‘Juan, eh?’ McKay pursed his lips and scratched his nose. ‘Wait a minute…Juan…bloody hell! Does he have an accent? Could he be a Spaniard?’
‘A Spaniard?’ Wallace mused as he thought of Juan’s accent. ‘Yes, he could be.’
‘About 5’10” with a moustache and a small scar on his cheek?’
‘That’s him. You know him?’
‘My Oath I do. That’s Rivera.’
‘Who’s Rivera?’
‘A professional hit man, a very efficient one. We’ve come across him before.’
‘A profession hit…!’ Wallace felt adrenalin course through his system and he began to feel lightheaded again.
‘So, I’d say they know now that you’ve stolen these computer drives, and they also know they’ve got to get rid of you, before you can pass them on,’ McKay mused thoughtfully. ‘I’d say there will be some damning evidence there, plus they also want to be rid of you before you can incriminate Kalim in Ravindran’s murder.’
Wallace fought off approaching nausea with an effort.
‘What should we do?’
‘Get to London and fast! It might be better if I have custody of the computer stuff.’
‘Pigs arse!’ Wallace snorted. ‘These are my guarantee that you’ll stick with me.’
‘I came up here to help you didn’t I?’
‘Only to save the good name of bloody ASIO or ASIS, and to get yourselves out of this mire you landed me in with that bloody delivery in Jakarta, and that damned job on Murray Craddock. Now I’ve got more important information that might interest Canberra, more than anything I may do or not do! No bloody thanks…I’ll hang onto them, thanks very much!’
