Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1)

by Lewis Hastings

  “Keep an eye out for that bloody Wraith, John,” said Cade even though he suspected it was now long gone.

  “Roger that, will do. You know it’s probably parked up at the airport by now?”

  “I do, but call me paranoid, let’s not let our guard down. OK?”

  “Agreed.” And with that JD patted his long-term friend on the thigh and accelerated through the town, back out onto the open road and towards home.

  They arrived at JD’s home after an eventless journey, the only highlight being when Cade looked out across the dense, dark green tree canopy to his left and wondered quietly just how long, if ever, it would be until the Golf and the Transit would be located. He hoped they died a long, slow and rather irritatingly painful death.

  Moments later he was asleep.

  If JD was able to study Cade’s eyes he would have noticed the R.E.M. activity that led to him surfacing from his dream with a start.

  “You OK?”

  “Yep, just a bad dream. I could see those stunning eyes John, but I’ve missed something…”

  “It will come to you Jack, just be patient, possibly somewhere over the Pacific, but it’ll come to you, the mind has a clever way of surprising itself!”

  Daniel’s words were lost; Cade was in a deep sleep once more, somehow trying to reconnect to his departed soul mate.

  They arrived at JD’s home, decanted, and met up with Lynne.

  She stood, arms out wide and didn’t say a word.

  Cade stepped into her embrace and fought back his raw emotions.

  “Platitudes, Jack, platitudes, and therefore pointless. Come on, I’ve got a great lasagne waiting to be devoured. You need to eat more and drink less, you look terrible.” She looked at her husband, who winked and shrugged his shoulders.

  “We only had one love…and it was for medicinal purposes…”

  “Indeed, but this man needs to stay focused and Messrs Talisker and Bowmore are hardly going to help, are they?”

  She was right, of course, but being right wasn’t always what people needed to hear, especially after the loss of someone so dear.

  “I’ll be fine Lynne, promise, I’m OK.”

  “OK? And what exactly does that mean?”

  He laughed, “Darling, I haven’t got the foggiest, but somehow I’ll be OK.”

  She tutted and walked past him into the kitchen.

  “Eat this and we’ll talk about tomorrow. Dip the sourdough into the sauce, it’s delicious. John tells me you are booked and ready to go, what are your plans?”

  “Honestly? Not a bloody clue, but JD has been putting a few things into place. First and foremost, I need to get there, find somewhere to create Base Camp, reunite with a few old friends and sift through the wreckage of the last few days. I also need to find out who I’m dealing with and if the basic intel that your husband has gathered is correct, then the UK is the best place to start my hunt; if I’m going to be staring down the barrel of a gun, it would be quite nice to know who’s likely to pull the trigger.”

  He took a mouthful of the pasta and nodded.

  “This is great, Lin’, just needs a touch more pepper.”

  He deserved the slap, but it made him smile if nothing else.

  Contrary to her early guidance, they opened a bottle of Rabbit Ranch pinot noir and got to work demolishing it, along with the meal.

  “Once I’ve sorted out a few things in Hong Kong, I’ll head to London and see what I can dig up. At least I’ll be on familiar ground and…” he paused for a moment.

  With an over-laden forkful, JD looked at Cade and said, “You know she’s gone Jack, I told you didn’t I? Just try to put her in the back of your mind if you can, get on that plane tomorrow and head down a new path, for now, it’s all you can do. You cannot afford to go anywhere near her now. You, or rather we need to abrogate you of any connection to any of this. I’ll make some discreet checks with the authorities and let you know if I hear of anything new. As soon as I do, you will.”

  He nodded, all the while staring out into the blackening Pacific Ocean, deliberating, and asking what the last week had been all about and whether in fact it was all actually quite as real as it seemed to be.

  Outside, in the main restaurant, a sound stirred him from his daydream.

  “What’s that, or rather should I say who?”

  “Oh, they are a country band – we got them here on recommendation. Lynne loves ‘em, called Cooper’s Run, very talented bunch, all locals and trust me, they are the next big thing in country music…” he paused, “Oh and Jack, the lead singer is simply gorgeous!”

  Lynne interjected, “Yes, Jack, he is!”

  They all laughed. For Cade it was a blessed release, for JD a sign that the pressure cooker had just released a small percentage of steam; for now at least that would be enough to assure him that his protégé was unlikely to erupt.

  “Come on, old son, let’s take what’s left of this and head down to the bar. You’ll love them, it will do you good, and that my lad is an order.”

  They gravitated towards the bar where the band were now in full swing, singing a combination of classic country and their own new track called Summertime.

  Cade allowed himself a moment to bathe in the sound, JD was right, the lead singer was heavenly but for Cade there was only one woman in his life, and besides her partner looked all too rugged.

  Would he ever hear them play again? For that matter, would he ever return to New Zealand? Or, as the natural pessimist in him suspected, would another series of events guide him along an unknown and perilous path?

  Within twenty-four hours he’d be embarking on that journey. He could spend the rest of the night going over the plan, again, and again, but instead settled on raising a glass to the band and began to think about Elena as his right foot unconsciously tapped along to the music. Try as he might he couldn’t stop, each time he drifted off, recounting the last few days, the lyrics to their song haunted him, “…our little secret, that nobody knows…”

  He awoke with a start. The song was still in his head. Christ, it wasn’t a dream. It was hugely real, dangerously tangible, and deeply disturbing.

  He tidied up his bed, ever the disciplined individual, and headed for the en suite. The shower finally woke him; the steam filled his lungs and breathed new life, untying myriad knots in his back and neck and seeking out the tiny cuts on his chest. As he stood in the cubicle, he slowly wrote her name on the tinted glass and then watched the letters bleed, one by one, before fading away.

  Drying himself off he noted a few more knocks and scrapes, evidence of the preceding day, adrenaline had forbidden his body from reacting to them. They would heal far quicker than his mental scars.

  He said out loud, ‘She’s gone.’

  Lynne called out to Cade that breakfast was on the table. He smiled; it truly didn’t matter how bloody terrible you felt, the smell of bacon in the morning was unbeatable. He placed his shaver and other bits and pieces into his case, twisted the combination locks to 385 and tapped the lid.

  As he walked out of the room, he looked back at his case, “See you in Hong Kong.”

  Chapter Nine

  The RAV was loaded up and with a nod Cade bid goodbye to the exquisitely beautiful Coromandel Peninsula, an area that for a while at least he had called home.

  They soon arrived at the intersection for State Highway 25A, Daniel indicated left and accelerated. His pace quickened. Cade knew why, it was obvious that his old friend was in a hurry to pass by the site where the events of the previous day had unravelled.

  As they drove by the location all that remained of the horrific scene was a single black line on the road surface, a score mark deep in the tarmac that veered sharply to the left and a hundred metres further on a neatly swept pile of auto glass; clear, red and amber in colour, it sparkled among the dreary grey pieces of tarmac bringing life to an otherwise generic vista.

  Where the Cayman had come to rest a single white rose was propped up a
gainst the rock.

  “JD, stop the car!”

  The Toyota came to an abrupt halt as Cade left the passenger seat and ran back along the road. Lynne went to follow him, but her husband stopped her.

  “Leave him, he needs to do this.”

  Cade reached the site in seconds, crouched down and with complete deference touched the ground upon which his lover had lost her fight. Tears ran down his face and onto the floor, quickly evaporating and blending into the dusty surface.

  He reached towards the rose, which had a small ivory-coloured card attached to its stem. He turned it over, upon the reverse it simply said, “Until then.”

  His reserves of rational thinking were depleted. The words could have meant many things, however, right now, none of them made any sense.

  He placed the rose carefully back onto the floor and walked back towards the RAV 4. Opening the door, he took one last look before getting in and asking his friend to drive on.

  Two hours later after an eventless run, they pulled onto the forecourt of Auckland International Airport. He exited the Toyota and took his case from Daniel. He turned to Lynne and accepted the inevitable hug. She quickly got back into the car. Better that way than showing her obvious feelings to a man who simply didn’t need such emotion.

  He looked at JD.

  “Thank you for everything. I’ll wait till I get to Hong Kong before I read the report, but I know it will be typically thorough. I’ve got the hard drive in my carry on and the documents are in the case. Once I’ve met up with a couple of our old friends, I’ll be in touch. Did you run your eyes over the papers last night? Are they what I think they are?”

  “I did. And yes, I think they are as significant as we both imagine. What she was doing with them is anyone’s guess, Jack. Why she had them is another and what this group wants with them is yet another. I took the liberty of copying them, they are locked in my own personal safe. The original is safer still. Until or if we need them.”

  “Thanks, boss. Look after Lynne and keep an eye out on my interests won’t you John?”

  He nodded and offered a hand.

  Cade took it and as he did, John Daniel pulled him towards him and held him close for a few seconds.

  “Remember everything, forget nothing and for God’s sake come back alive Jack. And this is for you, a gift from Lynne and I, she insisted on getting you something. I told her not to bother…”

  He took the small package and placed it in his pocket.

  Daniel smiled, “I’d open it if I was you, you’ll need it to fill out your departure card.”

  “Nothing like a surprise, JD!” said Cade as he opened the small square package to reveal a Fisher Space Pen, stainless steel, in the shape of an elongated bullet. Along its flanks were the words Kia kaha – Cade knew it meant ‘stay strong’, an oft used Maori phrase; simple but appropriate for what lay ahead of him.

  “Now don’t lose the bloody thing. Took me ages to find it. I remembered you had one back in London in the old days, I never forget when Jason Roberts gave it to you as a leaving present and gave the infamous speech…”

  Cade started to laugh as his friend relived a story he had told many times before.

  “…about the pen being developed by NASA, how it was researched by the Americans for years, how it could write under water, on grease and upside down and even in space and you said…”

  “The Russians took a pencil!”

  “You did Jack, you , and it still makes me laugh. Right, piss off and ring me when you get chance.” He patted him on the back and let him go.

  As Cade walked away, he turned once more. Lynne Daniel had composed herself and blew a kiss, which Cade returned with gusto. He shouted to Daniel, “I’ll ring you mate unless I get lucky at Happy Valley again, then…well then…I might not!”

  Cade turned, crossed the road and into the departure lounge of Jean Batten Airport, its official name, commemorating the female aviator who landed there in 1936. To Jack she was a genuine heroine and one who he had researched before he first travelled to New Zealand.

  He was dismayed to learn that she had died in a Majorca hotel, as a result of complications following a simple dog bite; at the time he remarked to anyone that might have been listening ‘all that way, alone, battling the elements and her own limits of endurance and she succumbed to a bloody dog bite.’

  A strikingly beautiful woman who had courageously travelled the world, endeavouring to make a difference; she had succeeded, but her lonely, anonymous death in a corner of the globe so far from home was incredibly poignant to Cade. He patted a bronze statue of her as he walked into the Departure hall.

  “Hello sweetheart, look after me during my travels.”

  He slipped inconspicuously into the Business Class lane of Cathay Pacific and greeted the ground staff member in Cantonese whilst handing over his passport.

  Having answered all the obligatory questions he placed his hold stow luggage on the conveyor belt, accepted his boarding pass and said farewell.

  He stopped at a nearby pillar and leant on a glass shelf, filling out his departure card with his newly acquired gift. He hesitated on the section which asked how long he would be out of the country. Optimistically he ticked one month.

  Moments later he was at the New Zealand Customs Service primary line, handing over his passport and departure card. The young female officer scanned his travel document, checked her recessed screen for alerts and seconds later handed back his British passport.

  “Enjoy your trip Mr Cade, see you in a month.”

  He’d often marvelled at just how approachable the local customs officers were. He’d met a few in his time, and he regarded them highly.

  He placed his carry-on luggage into a grey plastic tray along with his watch, some coins, a belt and his paperwork; leaving the package of documents in his check-in luggage was a master stroke, as he knew that at any international border they would attract attention.

  Moving through the magnetometer without incident, he smiled at the aviation security officer and collected his items, placing the tray back on a growing pile.

  The airport was getting very busy. The main Asian flights were starting to fill, departing the Land of the Long White Cloud for Singapore, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur and Hong Kong.

  He had a few moments to spare so walked towards the duty-free area, his intention being to price up another bottle of Dark Storm, JD having successfully depleted his last one.

  As he made his way to the store, another customs officer walked towards him.

  In his twenties, six-foot-three inches tall and all too handsome, he had a dog with him, a shimmering ebony-black Labrador who was paying a little too much attention to Cade’s bag.

  “Excuse me sir, can you just step to one side, please?”

  He did, and without fuss.

  “Thank you. My dog is trained to detect a number of commodities and he has indicated on your carry-on bag – is there anything you need to tell me before I commence a search of the luggage?”

  “Well, I can tell you that I have nothing to hide if that helps – what is he trained on?”

  It was a fair question, and the officer didn’t hesitate with his response.

  “Drugs sir, oh and cash.”

  “Well, officer, I certainly wouldn’t be carrying drugs, I’ve spent years targeting narcotics operations and as for cash, yes I’ve got an amount in my bag, I’m heading to Hong Kong for a few days and I owe someone some money, call it a debt of gratitude, it’s New Zealand dollars, about a thousand, I can show you.”

  He did, and as he did so the officer praised his dog and gave him his favourite training aide – a soft rubber toy. It clearly meant more to him than finding any drug or amount of money.

  “He’s a great dog,” Cade offered.

  “He is sir, very, I’m a lucky man to have him as a partner – he’s more reliable than most humans, that’s for sure!”

  They both laughed. Cade’s was genuine, he missed the days of
enforcement, and here he was talking to a genuinely decent young officer who was trying to make a difference to his adopted country.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Originally? Nottinghamshire, England.”

  “Well, well. I thought I picked up on the accent. I was originally from Kent, moved north, spent a while at East Midlands Airport myself, worked closely with your UK colleagues and the local police.”

  “Really? My old man was a copper in Nottinghamshire.”

  “Would I know him?”

  “I doubt it. Let there in 2003 – works here now.”

  “Small world, isn’t it?”

  “It is, unless you have to paint it.”

  They laughed, and Cade put out his hand.

  “Jack Cade, thanks for doing a great job for our chosen country.”

  “Thank you. I’m Andrew and this fine young Labrador is called Ajax. As you say, small world, travel safely Mr Cade and let’s make sure he doesn’t indicate on you on the way back in!”

  “I’m stopping off at Happy Valley. Trust me, he won’t! And…” He sighed, “I may not be back.”

  They parted. Cade had enjoyed the brief interlude; it was a form of escape from the rawness of very recent events, and being airside in an international airport gave him an even greater sense of security.

  As he picked up a bottle of his favourite malt, Ajax the Lab had picked out a new target, a Chinese male who was protesting far too much for both Cade and the canine hunter’s liking.

  He walked along the departure pier until he reached Gate 9. Despite having access to the Business Lounge he simply couldn’t be bothered. He’d dine in style soon and unlike the majority on board, could genuinely stretch out and relax. He placed his bag on the floor and sat down. The woman opposite smiled at him, so he returned the compliment. On any given day he would have been interested in engaging in idle airport chatter, but not today, not tomorrow and probably sometime never.

  He tapped his jacket pocket; passport still there. He could relax. In ten minutes the Menzies ground staff started to call for Business Class passengers to board. Cade was one of the first on the Airbus A-340 – the other members of his exclusive club had all diverted to the nearby lounge for drinks and nibbles. Cade had been more interested in meeting a wet-nosed narcotics hunter and besides, he knew he would be treated like royalty on board.