“Anything untoward happen?” Kaine asked.
“Not a thing, sir. Geezer were good as gold. Kept mithering about the weather and having to walk all the way to his car, mind. Didn’t see him use his mobile, and I’ll lay good odds he didn’t notice me following him, neither. Not the most difficult bloke I’ve ever had to tail. In fact, it was a piece of pi—er, sorry again, Doc. It was a piece of pie.”
“Don’t worry about me, Connor. I was married to a soldier, and I’ve been around military men—and farmers—long enough to grow a thick skin in the face of salty language.”
Connor lifted his head in acknowledgement. “Okay, Doc. I’ll remember in—”
“Good,” Kaine said, keen to get down to business. “I thought we might be able to trust our scarred friend, but—”
“Pays to be careful, though. Right, sir?” Connor said. He took another slurp, this one quieter, and nodded. “Yeah. Rhino seems a decent enough sort, I s’pose.”
“Okay, I don’t know about you, Connor”—he emphasised the sergeant’s first name to make a point—“but Mrs Griffin and I are in dire need of some shuteye. Mind if we get down to business?”
“I’m all ears, sir.”
“Good. Okay, from now until I call an end to this mission, we drop the normal military protocols. No ranks, no bull. As far as the world is concerned, Lara is Dr Griffin, and I’m her devoted hubby. You’ll be our employee.”
Connor threw a thumb’s up. “Okay, boss. Before we go on, can I just say I never did believe what the media were saying ’bout you last year. Not for one second. The idea of you being a terrorist and a ‘threat to the fabric of society’ were total bollocks. When the QM called me out of the blue last night, saying you needed my help, I were only too happy to volunteer.”
Lara’s grip on his hand tightened.
“So, you did call Rollo?”
Kaine nodded. “Couldn’t get hold of Danny, although I did try.”
“What on earth could Rollo do from the South Pacific?”
“You’d be surprised at his resourcefulness. New Caledonia even has internet services these days.”
Connor’s eyes lit up. “The QM’s in the South Pacific? Bloody hell. What’s he doing down there?”
“His new French wife has a brother on the island,” Lara answered for Kaine. “We thought it would make a nice surprise destination for their honeymoon.”
“Well, mount me and display me on the mantelpiece,” Connor said, shaking his head. “If someone as ugly as the QM found someone to marry him, there’s hope for us all. No wonder he sounded so knackered!” He ended with a chuckle and slurped some more coffee.
“All right, enough of the jocularity,” Kaine said, turning to Lara. “Before we left the villa, I called Rollo and asked him to check out the short-notice availability of everyone within shouting distance of Walthamstow. Top of the list was young Connor here.” He tipped a nod towards the former sergeant. “Yesterday evening, while you were trying on your military fatigues, I asked Rollo to set things up with Connor and … well, here we all are.”
The sergeant dipped his head in recognition. “Like I said, boss. Only too happy to help. I’m down with your payment structure, too. Beats working the doors at the Blue Tightrope.”
“The Blue Tightrope?” Lara asked.
The sergeant frowned. “It’s a sort of ‘Gentlemen’s Club’. In Soho, but there ain’t many gentlemen, if you get my meaning.”
“A strip joint?”
Again, Connor dipped his head. This time, he looked a little sheepish. “More like a lap dancing club, but without much in the way of dancing talent.”
“I’d have thought you’d love the place,” Kaine offered. “The ambience. The naked women.”
“Nah, boss,” Connor said, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact with either of them, “the Tightrope’s one of the worst gigs I’ve had since leaving he army. Shit pay, lowbrow workmates who couldn’t hold a decent conversation to save their souls. And then there’s the low rent clientele, the sticky carpets, vomit, and all the coke-snorting in the toilets. You get the picture?” He paused to take another long slurp of his drink, still with his eyes lowered. “And despite the watered-down drinks, we get more’n our fair share of drunks spoiling for a fight come kicking out time.”
“Not too upset at taking a few days off then?”
“Not one little bit, boss,” Connor answered, straightening his shoulders and looking up from his mug. “The QM’s call couldn’t have come at a better time.”
“But?” Kaine asked.
“Sorry, sir?”
“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
Connor shook his head, but his pained expression betrayed an inner conflict.
“Out with it, lad. If I don’t know what’s troubling you, I won’t able to help.”
The younger man squirmed in his seat. “Sorry, boss. It’s just … well … how long is this job going to take? It’s just that I’m on zero hours and if I don’t turn up, I don’t get paid. Bills to pay, you know?”
Kaine clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Connor, I asked Rollo to transfer a month’s pay into your bank account the moment you took the contract.”
The former sergeant jerked to a seated attention. “You did?”
“Yes.”
“A month’s wedge?”
“That’s right, and at our agreed rate.”
“Bloody hell,” he said, swallowing hard. “That’s near enough what I’ll get from the Blue Tightrope in a year.”
“Hopefully, this’ll be the easiest, most boring contract you’ll ever work. You’ll be getting money for old rigging.”
“Hang on a minute,” Connor said, his gaze flitting between Kaine and Lara. “How can you have added money to my account when I never gave no one my bank details?”
“We have our methods,” Lara answered for Kaine. “I’m guessing you have the mobile app on your phone. Why not check your account?”
Connor drained his mug before pulling out his mobile and, frowning in concentration, tapping on the screen. After a few moment’s silence, he looked up, confusion and slight annoyance easy to read on his face.
“Bugger me!” he said under his breath. “How’d you manage that?”
Lara turned to Kaine. “Should we tell him?”
Kaine shot an appraising look at the former sergeant and dipped his head to Lara. “Connor’s a trusted member of the team, prepared to risk his life—”
“I am?” Connor asked in mock surprise which transformed into a grin.
Kaine returned the grin. “If not you can finish your coffee and take a hike.”
“Okay, okay. I’m in!”
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Kaine continued, “Connor’s with us all the way, and he deserves to be read in.”
“Okay, in that case, here goes. We have a Corky and a Sabrina,” Lara said, a smile on her beautiful face, and laughter in her quiet voice.
“You have a who and a what now?”
Lara sat up and arched her back in another luxurious stretch. “Corky calls himself an ‘Information Acquisition Specialist’, but Sabrina tells it like it is. They’re both hackers and very good ones. World class, in fact.”
“And these two work for you?”
Kaine nodded. “On a purely voluntary basis.”
“They married?”
Lara laughed. “Corky and Sabrina married? Oh, that’s priceless.”
“Why’s it priceless?”
Kaine fielded the question. “If you saw either of them, you’d know, but I doubt that’ll ever happen. I’ve never even met Corky. At least, not in person.”
Connor sighed. “Not sure I like the idea of being on the radar of a couple of hackers, but … if you say they’re good people—”
“We do,” Lara confirmed.
“Then it’s okay with me. Not that it matters either way, I s’pose. Nothing I can do about it, given how much I kn
ow about the internet and civilian techie stuff.”
“That’s pretty much the way I feel, too,” Kaine admitted.
Connor slipped his phone back in his pocket and placed the flat of his hands on the table. “Right then. The QM said something about a babysitting gig. That right?”
Lara stiffened, but to her credit, managed to avoid commenting.
“Pretty much,” Kaine answered, nodding slowly, “but one of the clients can’t know you’re a minder or he’s likely to kick up a real fuss. The other client does know, and she is probably about to scream blue murder at me.”
Lara kicked the side of his foot. He ignored it.
Connor’s expression relaxed into a gentle smile. “Care to explain, boss?”
Kaine paused. “How much did Rollo tell you about me and the mission?”
Connor shrugged. “Not much. Just said that you was innocent of the charges against you—which I knew—and as how you’d liberated a load of readies from the arsehole who was really responsible for the … incident.”
Kaine sighed. At least he hadn’t called it a bombing, which was to his great credit.
“The QM said I were likely to be operating under military conditions the whole time I were with you. Sounds good to me, boss. Whatever you need, I’m your man.” He confirmed the statement by clapping a hand over his heart before returning it to his mug.
Lara leaned forwards in her seat. “That’s all good to hear, but there’s something I can’t work out.”
“And what’s that, Mrs Griffin?” Connor asked, the smile returning.
“How did you find us at the reservoir? It was dark and the place is huge.”
Connor glanced at Kaine before returning his gaze to Lara. “Want me to tell her, boss, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”
“When I called Connor, I gave him the approximate location and an ETA. The rest, I left up to him.”
“How long did it take you to find us?”
“I saw you arrive and settle in,” he answered. “Then I spent the rest of the evening searching the area for uninvited guests.”
“You saw us arrive?”
“Sure did, Doc.”
She twisted to face Kaine. “Did you know Connor was there all the time?”
Kaine nodded. “Yep. Saw and heard. He made so much blooming noise I’m surprised you didn’t spot him yourself.”
Connor lifted a hand, index finger wagging towards the ceiling. “Now hang on a min—”
“Watching all those scantily-clad women must have dulled his skills, made him rusty,” Kaine continued.
“Come on now, boss.”
“To be honest, I almost reconsidered hiring him. It’s a real shame when a highly skilled soldier loses his edge.”
“Connor,” Lara said, “he’s kidding again, having fun at both our expenses. Aren’t you, William!”
Kaine covered his slight discomfort with a cough. “Okay, Sergeant. Here’s what you need to know.”
He rattled off the bare bones of the situation. When he reached the part where Lara and Barcode tangled in the street, Connor laughed, said, “Good for you, Doc,” and offered Lara a high five, which she took and slid Kaine a smug side grin.
Kaine summed up with, “Until I tell you otherwise, you have two tasks.”
“Only two?”
“Yes, but they’re essential. The first is to protect Darwin Moore, without letting on that you’re his minder. Okay?”
“I’ll do my best, boss. And the second task?”
“Is to keep my wife here out of trouble. Understood?”
Connor, serious again, nodded, and said, “Understood. You can count on me, boss.”
I hope so, Sergeant.
“Meanwhile, if you don’t mind my asking, what are you going to be doing?”
“Me, Connor? Nothing much. I’m going to unmask a gang leader, and take it from there.”
After his announcement, Kaine allowed a short silence to develop. As expected, Lara was the one to break it.
“And how do you plan to achieve that task on your own, pray tell?”
Despite anticipating her question, it didn’t make the answer any easier to find. Fortunately, Connor provided an opening.
“You going to watch for Damian’s signal in the window on Monday night, yeah?”
“And you’ll have Corky monitor the internet traffic?” Lara added, before he could respond.
She caught on fast, but her expression said she hadn’t forgiven him for forcing a “babysitter” on her. No doubt they’d have it out when they eventually reached the privacy of their hotel room.
Before the meeting, Kaine had been mulling over a few options, but their suggestions had helped make up his mind.
“By the way, boss. What you planning to do when you identify this TM geezer?”
“That depends on who he is and how … open he is to persuasion.”
Lara reached for his arm but seemed to changed her mind and dropped her hand to her knee.
“And if he’s not? What then?”
“No idea. I’ll address that situation when it arises. But,” he added, “the fact this TM character likes to remain incognito suggests he’s a little shy. I might be able to use that.”
“What about Demarcus Williams and the rest of the Goons?”
“They’re nothing but a bunch of second-rate thugs who get their jollies by bullying kids. I doubt they’ll put up much resistance.”
“Ryan,” she said, using his name almost inaudibly, “you’re starting to sound complacent and that’s worrying me.”
“Confident, maybe. Complacent, never. Trust me, Lara. I know what I’m doing.”
Yeah, that’s right. Of course I do.
This time, Kaine did have his fingers firmly crossed, but hidden under the table.
Chapter 18
Sunday 19th February – Barcode
Walthamstow, NE London
09:38.
Barcode woke from an interrupted sleep with a pounding head, a stiff back, stinging cuts and bruises, and in a stinking mood.
The naked ho on his left, mouth open, dribbled spit down the side of her face. Her arm draped limply over his chest, she snored like a slobbering pig, and slept with her eyes half open and rolled up into the back of her head, lost to the product.
In the night, she looked good, horny, desperate for some blow and willing to sell her ass for it, but now … a fuck-ugly be-atch.
He shook off her arm, threw back the creased covers, and took a daytime look at the skank.
Huge, drooping tits, flabby belly, but—her saving grace—a big booty. Massive it was, wide and ripe for pummelling, if only his head wasn’t thumping so hard it seemed about ready to crack open.
The ho snorted. Blurred and bloodshot eyes opened fully and tried to focus on his face. Gave up and the lids drooped again.
“Got any more sugar for me, honey?” she slurred, snaking a hand towards his groin.
Slut made him sick.
“Fuck off, ho,” he snarled, slapped away the hand, and grabbed her by the throat. “You ain’t worth no mo’ of my time. Dress yo’self and get outta my crib.”
She gagged and tried to pull his hand away, eyes open wide, staring, fully focused. Scared for her life.
Fuck yeah!
He squeezed. Harder. Smiled.
Her eyes popped, tongue poked out from the foul-smelling, lipstick-smeared mouth. She garbled some words. Legs kicked, hands scratched. False nails tore the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrists, drawing blood.
“Fuckin’ be-atch!” he roared and pushed hard, releasing his hold.
She fell off the bed in a sprawl of flailing arms and legs, screaming, swearing. Garbled shit about his parentage.
Despite his throbbing head, he jumped from the bed, breathing hard, sweating, and stood over her.
“You got ten seconds to get the fuck outta my crib, ’fore I slice yo’ ass, skank.”
She tore her eyes from his monstrous dick and gat
hered her clothes. Scraps of glittery cloth that wouldn’t cover much of her black hide. The strappy bra hung on the post at the foot of his bed, where he’d thrown it in his hurry to get at the goods. Fuck knew what use it was to her. Didn’t look strong enough or big enough to hold her mammas in place.
As she wobbled around the room, flabby, saggy, used, and abused Barcode couldn’t figure out how he managed to work himself up to service the be-atch. Showed what anger, alcohol, and product would do for a man’s performance.
The woman stuffed the bra into a tiny handbag, pulled on a dress no bigger than a t-shirt, and slipped her feet into a pair of strapless heels. She stood, tottering, looking from him to the door and back. The shiny, pimpled forehead creased into a frown. Cunning. Calculating.
Yeah. Here it comes.
Her head dipped, and she stared up at him, trying for seductive, but coming up like an animal on the make.
“Throwing me out into the cold without so much as a taste,” she mumbled, “you ain’t no kind of a man.”
“Man enough for you last night, be-atch. Now fuck off outta here.”
Her chin dimpled, tears started up in her bloodshot eyes in a pathetic attempt to look pitiful.
“You sure I can’t have a little taste? I’ll make it worth yo’ while, Barcode. You can take me up the ass. I know you love the booty.”
What she probably thought was a sexy smile made her look like one of them animals on a wildlife programme circling their prey. She lifted the back of her dress and twisted enough to expose a naked butt.
“C’mon, honey. You know you want it. A little blow for some of this. How ’bout it?”
She slapped a cheek, lifted her foot, and placed it on the chair next to his bed. Opening up to him.
For half a second, Barcode thought about taking her, but the throbbing head wasn’t in the right part of his anatomy. He swung a leg and kicked her in the fat butt. She flew across the room, screaming, and crashed head first into the door.
Two strides forwards, he took a handful of her hair, opened the door, and threw her out onto the landing. Her shoulder crunched into the far wall and she slid in a heap to the thin carpet. Barcode bent down, picked up the handbag, and threw it in her face.
On the Money Page 16
