Rainsford rushed out from behind his car just in time to see Scott, his arms pinioned to his sides, disappear over the edge of the pier with Abdic, sending seabirds into squawking flight, and eliciting a muffled scream from the girl who was watching these events unfold from inside the shop.
‘Jim, I cannot tell you what information runs along the black cables, but suffice it to say the Western world depends upon it to keep us safe from other nations, rogue states, the terrorist threat. They form the core network of NATO’s security. You’re going to have to take my word on this.’
Daley looked at the point on the Kintyre coast where the black cable found land. ‘This cable comes in at Dundraven beach, am I right?’
‘Yes,’ said Callaghan, ‘the fenced-off compound that you guys have asked the MOD about is where it comes ashore.’
‘Why not run the cable directly into London?’
‘In the event of any attack – let’s say nuclear, or terrorist – London might be compromised. You’ll know the old saying, “hiding in plain sight”?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is a perfect example: a nondescript little compound beside a little white beach, here on the lovely west coast of Scotland. What could be more innocent?’
‘Don’t tell me – someone’s found it?’
‘We don’t know who, but we know it happened within the last eighteen months. The cable was compromised off the coast of Scotland, and we’re trying our best to prevent it happening again. It was no coincidence that your Mr Cudihey had this on a map. The real question, the one we’re all trying to solve, is where does he fit into all of this?’
‘He worked for the Scottish Government. Surely they know about this cable?’
‘Kinda out of his league, wouldn’t you say? We know you found his caravan close to the cable’s landing point.’
‘And?’
‘We need to know what was in that caravan. Who was he working with? What do you know?’
‘Why should I tell you? You kidnapped and blindfolded me; how do I know I can trust you?’
Callaghan paused. ‘I brought you here, Jim, to cut out the crap before this thing gets too big.’
‘Well, let’s cut the crap then,’ said Daley. ‘Tell me about the strange lights in the sky.’
‘Jim, I think I can trust you. But you’ve got to give me something back.’
Daley sighed. ‘Honestly, we don’t know a lot. Seems like Cudihey was a bit of an oddball. We found sex toys and photographs of his colleague in the caravan. But there were photos of the compound as well, the undersea line. He obviously knew what it was, but I don’t know who he was passing the information on to.’
‘And what about the Dragon?’
‘He and his accomplice murdered a local drug dealer and have now kidnapped a teenage girl called Alice Taylor.’
‘You think there’s any connection between these things?’
‘Yes,’ said Daley. ‘I suspect there is. But I don’t know what.’
Callaghan hesitated, and then got up from behind his desk. ‘Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’
Intrigued, Daley followed Callaghan out of the office into a dark, cold corridor. Their footsteps echoed on a smooth concrete floor as they turned a corner into a large hangar.
In the gloom, Daley could make out an indistinct shape, lit only by a pale, barely perceptible white light that cast an ethereal glow over the object. It was about the length and height of a bus, but broader. Around its perimeter, soldiers with rifles stood to attention as Daley and Callaghan appeared.
‘As you were, gentlemen,’ ordered Callaghan as they neared the soldiers. ‘Major Meyer, if you please.’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied a loud voice; there followed some more barked commands, then, slowly, the lighting levels were increased.
‘I warn you, Mr Daley, once the genie is outta the bottle, he’s hard to put back in.’
Daley’s jaw dropped as the object was revealed. ‘Tell me that’s not what I think it is.’
‘And what do you think it is?’
‘A flying saucer, UFO, I . . . I don’t know.’
‘You wanna know something, Jim? You’re just about right. Meet Aurora, the most advanced military aircraft the world has ever seen, and not many in the world have seen her.’
Rainsford rushed to the side of the pier, his pistol firmly grasped between both hands, two armed cops behind him. He looked cautiously over the side and was startled when he saw Scott lying on the deck of a small boat, his body still, his eyes closed.
‘Brian,’ Rainsford called out in a hoarse whisper, looking from one end of the boat to the other. ‘Brian!’ he called again. Scott didn’t move.
Footsteps from behind them prompted all three police officers to turn, guns pointed at the girl from the shop who, at the sight of the weapons, let out a shriek.
‘Get back behind the cars – now!’ shouted Rainsford, as the constable who had been left to guard the head of the pier beckoned to her to follow him.
There was a buzzing noise to his right, and squinting into the sun, Rainsford made out the sleek hull of a wooden pleasure boat hoving into view around the bottom of the pier. At the stern, an older man sat at an outboard motor, while on the prow, a blond boy stood staring at the boat tied up at the pier.
Rainsford waved frantically, and the man at the tiller got the message and began to turn his vessel in a wide arc into the bay, just as the craft below the police officers rocked sideways in its moorings. The sun glinted off Abdic’s bald head as he hurled himself across the boat, darting behind the small cabin before the policemen could take action.
‘We are armed police, give yourself up, Mr Abdic,’ shouted Rainsford, cursing the situation in which he found himself. He had radioed for back-up, but that would be at least five minutes away. A lot could happen in that time.
The cackle of laughter began to echo across the water, coming from behind the cabin where Abdic crouched, his gun pointing at Scott, who lay pale and motionless on the wooden deck, only feet away.
38
Daley stared at the object before him. The aircraft was like nothing he had ever seen before. Where it began and ended was indistinct, the sharp lines of the wings tapering into invisibility. It drew in the light; none of the dim lamps in the massive hangar reflected on its surface. The cockpit was a slight swell in the smooth silhouette, picked out in a shade of black that shimmered like oil on water.
‘Aurora,’ said Callaghan, his voice low. ‘We are all playing for big stakes here.’
‘Aren’t you worried that I’ll rush off to the press with my story?’
‘With all respect, do you really think anyone would believe an over-worked, overweight, forty-something small-town cop? The press would tear you apart, Jim.’
‘Get real. Where do I fit in with all of this?’ Daley gestured at the black aircraft, fading back into the shadows in the diminishing light.
‘Follow me.’
The sound of Pavel Abdic’s laughter was punctuated by two loud shots, the reports of which whined in the still air. The policemen ducked, and when Rainsford looked back up, Abdic was standing over Scott’s body, his gun pointed at the unconscious policeman’s head. Sniggering to himself, with his gun trained on Scott and his eyes fixed on Rainsford, he kneeled down and began to untie the aft rope, one of two that secured the boat to the pier.
‘I can take him out, Sergeant,’ a young cop whispered to DS Rainsford.
‘No. If you even twitch, he’ll blow Sergeant Scott’s head off. Do nothing.’
Abdic stopped what he was doing and thrust his gun nearer to Scott’s head, making Rainsford jump back instinctively.
‘No, no!’ he shouted, holding his hand up, palm facing Abdic, to demonstrate that they weren’t going to take action.
The huge man went back to his task, and the rope slipped from the rear of the craft and plopped into the still waters of the bay; the boat’s stern began to drift from the pier. Abdic stood a
nd pointed to the prow of the boat, where one remaining rope was all that secured the boat to the pier.
Rainsford nodded his head slowly, to show that he understood that Abdic intended to release that hawser too, then sail away, with Scott on board.
The young DS racked his brains as Abdic made his way over the recumbent figure of Scott and towards the front of the vessel. Just as he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to let Abdic escape, a sudden movement caught his eye. As the broad man stepped over Scott with his short legs, the policeman opened his eyes, then swung his foot up and viciously kicked Abdic between the legs. Abdic fell to the deck, clutching his crotch, his pistol spinning away from him. In one swift motion, Scott reached over, grabbed the weapon, and was on his feet, pointing it at Abdic, whose whole head had turned a deep crimson as he doubled over with pain.
‘See what I mean aboot situations like this, DS Rainsford?’ Scott shouted up. ‘You never know what the fuck’s gonnae happen. Get doon here and cuff this big bugger.’ Scott smiled up at his colleague, who clambered down onto the vessel.
Scott rubbed his forehead and aimed a kick at the small of Abdic’s back. ‘Aye, an’ that’s for the wallop o’er the heid you gave me, you ugly bastard. I can always be sure o’ a few things when I’m doon here: I’ll drink too much whisky, an’ some bastard will try tae hit me o’er the heid, shoot me, or get me on a fucking boat.’
Daley blinked as he walked out into the sunshine. The two men strolled across a long runway. Soon, they were on a grass verge atop a small rise; below them, a chain-link fence was topped with sharp metal stanchions and razor wire.
‘Always amazes me that I’m so close to Ireland here, Jim.’ Callaghan pointed into the distance, across fallow fields and towards the blue sea where in the haze a dark jut of land shimmered.
‘My grandfather was from just across the water,’ said Daley. ‘County Antrim, to be exact. He came to Glasgow in the thirties, just after the Depression.’
‘Well don’t that just beat all. My granddaddy, too. Only when he left County Antrim, he turned the other way and landed in Boston. It’s a small world, Jim.’
‘And now here we are. You in the CIA, or whatever you’re in, and me a fat, small-town cop, with too much stress, and a complicated personal life.’
‘We can help each other, Jim.’
‘How?’
‘In my country, we like stability. Here, well, things have changed.’
‘Meaning what, the new police force?’
‘That, but more generally too; politically and culturally. You guys on this island have worked hand-in-glove with us almost since we fought to leave you. Now I’m not sure how it’s all going to pan out.’
‘Everything changes, Mike, even countries.’
‘Change for the better is great, but it depends on your perspective.’
‘The breach in the undersea NATO intranet cable, it happened here, right?’
‘Yes, somewhere off shore. We can’t be sure, but we’ve got it pinned down to an area off the Kintyre coastline. That’s why I’m here.’
‘How much information did you lose?’
‘That’s where things get even more worrying. There’s a lot of bad people would give their rotten hides to tap into that information.’
‘And they haven’t?’
‘In the eighteen months or so since the breach took place, we have received no threats, no attempts at extortion, no breaches of security, no publicity. Not one damned thing.’
Daley thought for a moment. ‘Maybe whoever managed to steal this information doesn’t know how to use it, or even what it means? Maybe they didn’t find anything of interest?’
‘We have a rough idea what they got. It’s sensitive stuff; makes Wikileaks look like the National Enquirer. That’s what makes it all the more worrying. To possess the knowledge to not only breach the cable, but to do so in a way that it was almost undetectable, can have been done by only a handful of nation states, or their confederates.’
‘You mean Russia, China?’
‘Sure, those guys are in the frame.’ Callaghan paused. It looked to Daley as though he was considering whether or not to reveal more. ‘We all know that no organisation is clean, right, Jim?’
‘Oh yes,’ replied Daley instantly.
‘So, suppose one of the countries you’ve mentioned, with all of the resources and expertise, go hunting and strike gold. Imagine that within their organisation is someone with so much ambition and drive they think they can benefit much more from what they’ve found than whoever is paying for them to be there; some power-mad, twisted bastard, willing to risk worldwide conflict to further their own aims. Get the picture?’
‘Sure,’ said Daley with a grimace, able to visualise just such ambition. ‘But to gain what?’
‘Money, power, influence, control – any of these things. At the end of the day, they’re all subtle parts of a greater whole. Imagine what could be achieved by people so ruthless they could create a zombie state within the NATO alliance; control it from within. Politicians, security services, the military – everyone compromised.’
Daley looked out to sea. ‘It would have to be a new state. Small, finding its feet, but with excellent credentials as to human rights, security and other issues.’
‘You got it. We think your fireball knew something about this.’
‘Cudihey?’
‘Yeah, Walter Cudihey. We also know that a new crime organisation with tentacles in Eastern Europe, Asia, Central America and Italy has increased its activities exponentially in the last few months. All of the old cartels and gangs are being eradicated one by one, in Europe and beyond. Drugs are flooding the continent like never before.’
‘And their merchandise has to come into its main market somewhere.’ Daley was beginning to understand.
‘And where better than here, the glorious west coast of Scotland. Such a vast coastline, full of little bays, empty coves, quiet channels – its a smuggler’s paradise.’
‘But first you have to get rid of the opposition.’
‘Sure. Some overweight, over-worked, talented guy with a complicated personal life has to come in and clean up the town. We know that elements of your new police force – the old one, too – have been compromised.’ He looked out to sea again. ‘Jim, you know how politics works; you need money to succeed. But if it’s not your money, you don’t call the shots. The guys with the deep pockets do.’
‘So it’s all about money?’
‘Yeah, sure, money, but not just hard cash. It’s about being involved in the global marketplace, in cutting-edge industries, not just based in one country, but all over the world. You need that perfect storm of power and influence right across the board, and you gotta start somewhere, get a foot in the door.’
‘Our government?’
‘You tell me, Jim.’
‘So what can you give me?
‘NKV Dynamics. We’ve found their weak spot.’
‘And we share information?’
‘To a certain extent. Someone at the heart of everything is putting us all at risk. We have to find out who that is.’ He patted the policeman on the shoulder. ‘Let’s get you back on the beat, DCI Daley. I think we can dispense with the blindfold this time.’
39
The intern knocked on Wilson’s door, then waited until the barked invitation to enter sounded from behind it.
‘You’ve got what I want?’ asked Wilson, not taking his eyes from the document he was reading.
‘Yes, Mr Wilson. The Minister is in a crisis meeting. I took my opportunity.’
‘You’ve done well,’ said Wilson, emerging from behind his desk. He walked over to the intern and snatched the file from his trembling hand. ‘And remember, son, you’ve just breached the Official Secrets Act. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you’ll go down for longer than the Kray twins.’
The young man thought for a moment. ‘Who are the Kray twins? Do they sit on the Labour benches?
’
Wilson looked up, then grabbed the intern by his shirt collar and leaned in close. ‘It means, you ugly little bastard, that if you ever mention this to anyone, you might as well go and do a Walter Cudihey, do you understand?’
‘Yes, Gary – Mr Wilson. Sorry.’
‘Good, now fuck off.’
The youth was about to leave when Wilson spoke again.
‘Wait! This crisis meeting, what is it about?’
‘Oh, to do with renewable energy. MBT are pulling out of all existing undersea wave power operations, and any similar projects in development.’
‘And who the fuck are MBT when they’re at home?’
‘Miekle, Brown and Taylor. They’ve been working on our renewable energy strategy with another company from Holland.’
‘NKV Dynamics.’
‘Yes, them. Looks like they’re the only players now, Gary.’
‘Mr Wilson to you. Now, why haven’t you fucked off?’
Wilson watched the intern leave, then opened the file he had just been given. Arkady Visonovich stared at him from the first page. ‘Oh, very clever,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Very clever indeed.’
Daley found himself opposite one of the oddest-looking men he’d ever seen. Pavel Abdic was so wide he almost took up the entire length of the table. A local solicitor sat beside Abdic, looking nervous, while his client stared at DS Scott with a toothy grin.
‘One last time, Mr Abdic, if you understand me, please tell me where Alice Taylor is,’ said Daley for the fifth time, his impatience palpable. He knew from the notes sent to him by Interpol that Abdic spoke English, or had at one time. Now, however, he was either unwilling or unable.
‘We’re no’ getting anywhere here, gaffer,’ said Scott, who had a fresh white bandage around his head. ‘You’re no’ for talking, are you?’ he enquired of Abdic, leaning across the table and looking straight at him. Abdic grinned, then opened his mouth and pointed to the brown stump of what had once been his tongue.
The lawyer looked on in horror. ‘This poor man’s got no tongue!’
Dark Suits and Sad Songs Page 24
