RED MIST FALLING

by Richard T Green

  That all depended on the truth. If it turned out she was an evil heartless terrorist about to kill thousands of innocent people, and I stopped it from happening, then I could maybe redeem myself with the department and have the satisfaction of seeing her punished for intent to kill.

  If becoming a mass murderer wasn't on her agenda… that could be where the problem really kicked in. Already I could visualise more scenarios, more uncertainties. That bridge would have to be crossed when I came to it. If I came to it.

  But I knew one thing for sure. For me now this was a solo mission. It was far too late to admit everything. Leaving aside what the department would actually do to me, the one certainty was that I'd be taken off the job faster than I could blink.

  That I couldn't bear. Despite her harsh words, I knew Zana still needed me.

  I held my hands up in front of my face; a slight shake in them but nothing too bad. I was going to need steady hands, and a rock-steady resolve. This wasn't going to be easy. The mission now was to save Zana from herself, stop a really bad thing from happening… and do it all without the prying eyes of DIAL discovering my betrayal. No pressure then.

  Now I really felt alone.

  The moon rose above the skyline, casting a strange orange light across the apartment floor as I prepared for the first stage of the plan. I was just changing into some dark clothes when the phone screamed at me from the coffee table. The DIAL phone, so it likely wasn't Zana.

  Ryland Cooper's voice filled my eardrum. ‘I assume you and the gorgeous blonde are all luvved-up again now, deWinter?’

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘She dumped me last night.’

  The voice went silent for a few seconds. ‘This ain't the best news I could have got, Maddie.’

  ‘I expected a fuck in there somewhere, Coop.’

  ‘Ok. You’re a fucking moronic pussycat. What you gonna do about it?’

  ‘Not sure yet.’

  ‘Fuck! Get yourself back in there girl… beg, plead, use all that sexy charm of yours… whatever it takes. You gotta get this back on.’

  ‘Ever thought maybe you're wrong about her?

  ‘Not a chance. She's here for some bad reason for sure.’

  ‘How do you know? How did you identify her as a risk in the first place?’

  Again the voice hesitated. ‘That ain't for your ears.’

  ‘You're not helping here, Coop.’

  ‘You gonna get your tight ass back over there, or have I gotta come and drag you there myself?’

  ‘I will, but not today. Let her stew for twenty-four hours. She might come to me, that's your advice after all.’

  ‘Fair point. But no longer than that; we're running out of time here. Someone's gotta come up with the goods, and right now unfortunately that’s you.’

  ‘Nice to know you have such unbreakable faith in me.’

  ‘Do what you're paid to do and I'll be your best friend for life, Maddie.’

  I booted up the laptop, studied the satellite images of Dawson's Hill. Then I found a detailed online visitor map of the nature reserve, and memorized every detail of that. The small building in the clearing was marked on the map, the park café. I noticed there was a second entrance to the park, filed it in my brain.

  There was nothing remarkable about the hill, just the view it gave across London. No obvious feature that would be of interest to Zana, or any other terrorist come to that. But the furtive glance she threw at the café as we passed in the darkness the other night told me there had to be something about that building worth investigating.

  I checked the Rolex; not yet nine. Another hour and I'd set off for Dawson's Hill. The plan forming in my mind had a thousand uncertainties, but the first step was clear enough.

  Find out if the second suitcase was stashed somewhere in that café.

  Chapter 25

  I turned out of the apartment drive the opposite way from the last time I'd driven to Dawson's Hill. I was going to lead my tail a merry dance through the late evening London traffic before heading south. I had to lose the watchers without them realizing it was intentional.

  It was a frustrating hour sitting in traffic queues which this time I deliberately sought. Three times I stopped; once for fuel, twice more at small supermarkets I found along the way.

  Five times I backtracked a little, scanning the cars coming the other way for anyone who looked at little suspect. One time I thought I saw them, noted the make and colour of the car so I’d know what to look out for.

  I began to head back towards the apartment, but then turned down a side street, threw three right turns and then a left to put me back on the main road heading south. There was less traffic now; I watched the rear view mirror closely. They weren't following.

  An hour later I made Dunstons Road, but drove past the main entrance to the park, took a right turn into a smaller street, and found the second entrance.

  I wasn't sure why. Somehow the relatively open space of the main entrance spooked me a little. Here the access was no more than a narrow gateway, blanketed by tall trees.

  Just gone midnight. There shouldn't be anyone around now other than maybe the odd insomniac dog-walker. That wasn't likely either; a hard frost covered the ground in a white haze, glistening in the light of the full moon.

  I grabbed the torch and a small toolkit from the passenger seat, headed into the trees. The gravel pathway crunched beneath my feet, sounded like thunder in the still night air. The trees thinned out, now I was in open space, climbing higher, heading for the pathway I'd taken the first time. Below me to the south, the long narrow lake with the smart apartment blocks built on one side sparkled as it reflected the moon like a perfect mirror; in front of me a Snowy Owl hooted a greeting as it swooped majestically over the hill. It was all quite beautiful.

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  Not so long ago I would never even have noticed such things.

  I rejoined the path I knew, and headed into trees once more. Ahead of me I could make out the clearing, the full moon illuminating the space like an overhead spotlight. I shivered, and not because of the sub-zero temperature. The dark shape of the café loomed closer, and that damned feeling was back.

  I took a long look around; the park seemed deserted. The building was made from machined logs, the front wall punctuated in the centre by two wide Georgian glass doors, a notice pinned across them.

  Park Café. Closed for the winter.

  It was starting to make sense now. From Zana's point of view. If she had stashed something here, it was unlikely to be found. I shone the torch through the glass. An L-shaped space formed the main cafe, a few pine tables and chairs dotted around. A serving counter with glass-fronted display cabinets filled the opposite wall. Behind that I could see a door, which must lead to the kitchen and food prep area.

  There had to be a rear door. The building backed onto the trees, giving plenty of cover for anyone who wanted to gain rear access without it being obvious. Which right then was me. I slipped around the corners of the pine-log building, back into the darkness.

  I found the door, shone the torch onto the handle. A simple padlock was all that stood between me and the possibility of finding the next piece of the jigsaw. So easy to open, with the right tool.

  I laid the leather tool-bag on the ground, picked up a tiny serrated prong, and reached out for the padlock.

  I froze. As my fingers touched the lock, the clasp dropped open.

  The café owner had maybe been very careless and not seated the clasp right before turning the key. Or someone had already done what I was about to, and when they'd left pushed the clasp back into its hole but not far enough for it to lock.

  So it would appear locked to anyone who might glance casually at it, but be easier to get in when whoever it was came back a second time.

  Chapter 26

  Slowly I stepped inside the dark building, closing the door behind me. I didn't think anyone would be around at thi
s time of night, but an outside door hanging open wasn't a risk worth taking.

  This was some kind of storeroom. A small walk-in fridge sat in one corner, its door open now the café was closed up. A few large cans of produce sat on mostly-empty shelves, everything else likely removed for the winter. I hung my head around the fridge door, there was nothing inside.

  Through a doorway I found a small commercial kitchen, all stainless steel that felt cold to my touch as I ran fingers across the smooth countertops. I walked through to the café itself, the service counter in one corner and the dining area with its solid pine tables and chairs at the front.

  Quickly I familiarized myself with the layout; the double glass doors opening out into the clearing in the trees, no other doors leading off the dining area. Moonlight so bright it cast shadows streamed through the doors and the two windows each side of them, giving the silent café a ghostly feel. I shuddered, a sudden image filling my mind of some kind of apparition hiding in a dark corner watching my every move.

  I laughed at myself to shake the thought. But it brought the nausea back, and a sickening uneasy feeling because dark empty buildings had never spooked me before.

  What was going on with me?

  I turned back to the kitchen, and then noticed another door next to the service counter. Just a staff washroom, with a toilet and hand-wash basin. Nowhere to hide a suitcase.

  The glass display cabinets on the service counter sat above cupboards, so I slid back the doors. Storage for crockery, nothing that shouldn't be there. If the case was anywhere, it had to be in the kitchen.

  A run of steel base cupboards sat next to a range cooker. Four large pull-out drawers. The first two contained pots and pans, the third was rammed full of kitchen utensils.

  The fourth was full of a blue leather suitcase.

  I cried out, turned away from it, put a hand across my mouth. Part of me had wished the case wasn't there, hoping my hunch about the café was a false one. Now I could no longer deny the truth. Something was going to happen here, and Zana was the one with her finger on the trigger.

  My heart sinking through the floor, I turned back to the case. My senses were numb. The only thing that existed in the whole world right then was the suitcase. Hands on autopilot reached out to the clasps.

  It was locked.

  I slumped to the floor, wrapped my hands around my head. The tears tried to come, I wouldn’t let them. My mind was racing, desperately trying to think rational thoughts despite all the crazy stuff flashing through my brain. If I forced open the case, Zana would realise as soon as she saw it. But I had to know what was inside. Was it some kind of explosive device?

  Idiot. Moron. Blowing a closed-up park café was hardly a major terrorist incident.

  But then the dread was back. And this time it filled my whole body with horror, made me feel physically sick. Suddenly I knew, and the realization turned my soul to stone.

  Zana worked in bio-genetic research. All of the seven marks were involved in one form or another with human biology. It could only mean one thing.

  I knew now what was in the case. And the reason it was hidden on a hill to the south of the city of London. The perfect location, with its uninterrupted view of the metropolis where a million people lived and worked.

  A suitcase with a horrific mission, waiting patiently for the ideal wind conditions, when its owner would come, unlock the clasps, and release the deadly contents.

  I closed the metal drawer, a million needles pricking my skin as I moved away to put some distance between me and the case. Now I knew what the really bad thing was, 'really bad' didn't even begin to describe it.

  Blindly I stumbled back into the main cafe, horrendous thoughts hammering hell out of my brain. I couldn’t keep still, unknowingly pacing the room, vaguely aware of my surroundings, like they were a fog cocooning me. I caught sight of my own shadow, my hands buried in my hair. Somehow that pathetic image jolted me back to my senses, cleared the fog.

  Pull yourself together. You’re better than this.

  I stood at the double doors looking out at the dark shadows cast by the moonlight filtering between the trees, my heart destroyed. It was time to think straight, clear my head of the emotions that had got in the way of cold, hard facts.

  I couldn't; too many of the hard facts were permanently welded to gut-wrenching feelings of one sort or another.

  The desolate look on Zana's face when I'd found her at the top of the hill; the way she spoke that pierced right into my heart. The passion and desire she'd aroused in me that I thought I didn't possess. The softness, the vulnerability she'd shown when her strong confident exterior had faltered.

  The way I felt right now.

  Still nothing made sense; still I was fighting conflicting emotions. She'd said she was doing it because of me… that made less sense than anything. Now doubt began to creep in. Was all as it seemed, or had my cynical mind jumped to the wrong conclusion?

  Or was I finding excuses because I had fallen in love?

  I knew one thing. I had to stop her; save Zana from herself. I turned away from the doors, began to head for the kitchen. The first essential was to take the case, back to my apartment… anywhere as long as it was away from her. She wouldn't know it was me who had taken it. I'd just reached the service counter when something made me freeze to the spot.

  A noise. The rear door opening.

  I looked around desperately, but I already knew one undeniable hard fact.

  There was nowhere to hide.

  A voice, one I knew well. ‘Who's there?’

  My heart stopped. This couldn’t be happening.

  ‘Is that you, Madeline?’

  Chapter 27

  How the hell could she know?

  I took a deep breath. ‘Café's closed, Zana. You’ll have a long wait if you want anything to eat.’

  She appeared in the doorway, and even in the moonlight I could see the evil look on her face.

  ‘Then what are you doing here, Maddie?’

  ‘I could ask you the same question.’

  She strode into the café, the red boots clicking menacingly on the wooden floor as she walked right up to me. ‘I asked first.’

  I held her angry stare. ‘I was here first.’

  She turned away from me, walked to the double doors. ‘Just get lost, Madeline.’

  ‘You said that once before, you didn't mean it that time either.’

  ‘Oh I mean it now. Just go, this doesn't concern you.’

  ‘I think it does. You called me here the other night, remember… when you really needed me?’

  ‘That was a mistake.’

  Anger welled up in me, I fought to control it. I strode over to her, grabbed her arms and spun her round so she had to look at me. ‘You're talking crap again, Zana. You asked me to come because I was the only one you wanted, and judging by the state of you when I got there, you really needed me. Do you expect me to ignore that?’

  She pulled away from my grip, pushed me away roughly. She was shouting now. ‘And who are you to judge what I really need, Maddie? You're nothing to me.’

  That did it. Even though I didn't believe the words. I lunged at her, grabbed her hair and spun her into me. Our faces were almost touching, her hot angry breath gasping into me. The words just tumbled out, somehow it wasn't me talking. ‘More bullshit. You need me as much as I need you.’

  Tears began to fill her eyes, her face contorting in her anguish. And then she slapped me, so hard it ripped the breath from my lungs. ‘Why do you need a bitch like me?’ she cried out, pushing my shoulders so viciously I only just kept my balance.

  Stunned, my basic instincts took over, my days growing up in the East End flashing in front of my eyes. I went for her, pushed her flat onto one of the pine tables, shaking hands grabbing the hair each side of her face as I leaned over her. ‘How the hell should I know? Never cared about anyone before, but now…’

  Her eyes were wild, her body convulsing as she fought to
get away from my grip. ‘Now what, Madeline?’ She wrenched my hands away, tears streaming down her cheeks as she screamed the words. ‘Look me in the eyes and tell me!’

  In that moment the anger left me, and I saw my own tears fall onto her face and mingle with hers. ‘Now I do care… too much to ignore.’

  Suddenly her lips were pressed into mine, our faces damp with shared tears as they came together. Her whole body was shaking; or maybe it was mine, I couldn't tell. My hands moved involuntarily to the sides of her face, the silkiness of her hair folding beautifully around my shaking fingers.

  She kissed me, over and over, her lips darting to my cheeks, my chin, my eyes… then back to my lips, taking away my resistance as she cried out quietly in her pleasure and the tears continued to fall. Then I felt myself pushed upwards a little, and I looked into her eyes, ablaze with something I'd not seen before.

  ‘I hate you,’ she whispered, deep breaths swelling her chest as she lay flat on the table gasping out the words.

  ‘No you don't,’ I said, unsure.

  ‘I do.’ Her hand grabbed mine, shoved it between her legs. I could feel her body still shaking, like she was freezing cold. I knew it wasn't the cold. ‘I hate you for what you're making me do…’ Her trembling hands fumbled with her belt, ripped it undone. I pulled the jeans to her knees, cried out as I slipped a finger inside her and felt her already so wet.

  She moaned, a tiny cry mingled with a sob. Her hands undid my jeans, pushed them roughly to the floor as I stood over her. ‘I hate you for what you make me feel…’

  Her hand cupped around my buttock, pulling me closer to her as she turned her head slightly to me. And then her tongue was inside me, flicking around my clit as her other hand grasped mine, thrusting more of my fingers inside her.

  Everything around me faded into nothingness. I wasn’t in control anymore, vaguely aware of wrenching the jacket and top off her, her eyes piercing into me as her tongue pulled away for a moment. ‘Why did you have to come into my life..?’ The words were whispered; still she was shaking, still the tears fell.