Juanita pulled her hand back and restarted the replay. The driver had joined his passenger and they were dragging Annabel out of the car.
A passer-by came over to offer assistance; at least that was how it appeared on the silent playback.
William said to Juanita,
“Can your playback capture sound as well as picture?” Without answering Juanita rewound the images back for a few seconds and then lifted her left hand up from her waist palm down. As her palm came up, the volume increased. Restarting the playback they heard the passer-by sake,
“Is she OK?”
The driver said,
“We’ve called an ambulance, but I think she might have had a heart attack. They should be here in a moment. Excuse me.”
The two men continued to ease Annabel out of the car onto the pavement and it was possible to hear the sound of a siren approaching from the direction of Coldharbour. The passer-by began to wander off as an ambulance came around the corner and slid to a halt. The driver jumped out and wrenched open the rear door, without ceremony they bundled Annabel into the back, strapped her down and the ambulance raced away. The passer-by looked as if she was going to come back and question the van driver, but an aggressive look and posture stopped her in her tracks and she walked on.
Jonas said, still watching.
“This is professional. It took planning and organisation.”
The passenger from the van reversed Annabel’s car onto the drive and then got into the van, which drove away following the same route as the ambulance.
Juanita stopped the playback with a gesture and said to William,
“Well, we know what has happened and we can be sure who was behind Annabel’s kidnap. Now we need to find her.”
William looked at Juanita and said,
“Can you use your playback to follow the ambulance?”
Shaking her head she replied,
“I can play back what has happened at a particular place up to six hours before the current time, but the computational power that would be required to live track specific people without knowing a destination is beyond me. For skills that advanced we’d need guides of section head level or above.”
William stared into space; devastated at the danger Annabel was in just because they had fallen in love.
“I might be able to help,” William said, Juanita looked at him in disbelief.
“How?”
“Ben showed me an application he put on all of out phones called ‘Find Friends.’ It let’s you see where your friends are by tracking their iPhone signal.” William tapped on the icon and saw where Annabel was heading.
“She’s travelling east on the A31 just approaching the M27. Odd,” he said staring at the screen.
“Ben’s just arrived at Yeovil police station. Ernest you need to find out what’s happening to your son.”
Chapter 37
Helena and Charles watched open mouthed when Juanita produced the playback of Annabel’s kidnapping from thin air.
“Impressive. I had no idea she was so skilful. That, Charles, is difficult to do. She’s much more talented than I remember.” Charles knew he should be impressed, but he was far more worried about the appearance of their other problem, Jonas.
“We need to see Felicity, now. If Ernest has Jonas and Jonas’s diary, then if the man did know anything, we are fucked. Felicity needs to adjust her plans until we, sorry you, find a way to kill all of the opposition. Kill them without leaving a trace of anything that leads to the Cortez’s. Can you do that?”
Helena looked askance at Charles for a moment and then disappeared. Returning moments later with a quizzical expression on her face.
“Are you coming? Let’s make Felicities day.”
They both disappeared and re-emerged in Felicities office. She was talking on the phone to Thrasher listening while he described the kidnapping of Annabel Anderson. Charles and Helena materialised in front of her desk, then floated over to her relaxation area and sat on the chesterfield sofa. Felicity looked up, unfazed by their sudden appearance and motioned with her hand to indicate she would finish in one minute. Putting the receiver down she said to Charles,
“And today’s problem is?” She looked at the worried expression on Charles’s face and the air of indifference exuding from Helena and her face tightened into a mask of fury.
“What have you failed to achieve now? Miss, I want this and I want that. As your only task was Jonas, can I assume you couldn’t find him?”
Charles said,
“We were too late. Ernest and his guide spoke to God and got him transferred to their protective custody. This whole operation is starting to draw attention at the highest levels.”
Helena interjected,
“And if this fails you will draw more than attention at very low levels. Felicity, your shipment, needs delaying or diverting. This is not optional. We, no I, need time to distract or remove Bacchus, his brother and your sister. They need to be made to realise the consequences of continuing to act against us.”
Felicity sat ignoring them, taking deep breaths to bring her emotions under control.
“They know. They don’t care; they’re not scared of you. The shipment is en route and can’t be stopped, diverted or delayed, can it Charles?”
Charles shook his head without answering. Felicity continued,
“They know it’s coming and they know it’s ours. That’s all. Whatever Jonas discovered forty years ago is no longer relevant. We might use some of the same principles and basic methods as then, but why change what doesn’t need to change? The beauty is in the simplicity. The cocaine is going to three different ports, in three different ships that are blemish free. The connection to us is untraceable. We’ve changed so many aspects of our operation it bears no resemblance to the operation Jonas discovered. The ships aren’t coming from the direction they’d expect them to come from and they’re not arriving at any CHC facility.”
Felicity took a cigarette from the packet on the desk and lit it with her Dunhill lighter. A hungry, predatory look crossed her face as she sat smoking for a moment.
“You are panicking. So caught up in your own quest for vengeance that you are ignoring the bigger picture. You not only need to embarrass the Home Secretary to satisfy your own agenda; you need to make sure that CHC remains a paragon of legitimate law abiding business. When our deal was struck you said I could have anything, is that still our arrangement?”
Helena looked at her and nodded. She had underestimated Felicities ability based upon the information she had received from Charles. Helena thought for a moment, wondering if lying was an option at this point. No, probably not. Though she could tell her whatever she wanted to hear and alter the terms at a later date. Would Felicity be expecting that?
“Yes, that was our deal. You delivered the Home Secretary and in exchange for destroying him, you can have whatever you would like.”
Felicity smiled and said,
“Can you or any of your other spooks ‘do’ anything tangible on earth?”
Helena wondered, where is this going, but said,
“Be bad you mean. Cause trouble, have some fun?”
“Yes.”
“No. We can to a limited degree influence people, autosuggestion, that type of thing. Under normal circumstances, everything useful is not open to us.”
Felicity sat thinking for a long moment. A smile began to play on her lips.
“I will contact Pablo so he knows to put his men on guard. If team Bacchus do have an idea of how things work, they might have to be creative. Grandfather, our enforcer. Is there any limits to his gifts and strength of his stomach?”
Charles shook his head,
“No. There never has been.” Helena said,
“He needs to put his very strongest stomach on and remove these impediments.”
Felicity replied,
“Indeed he does. Charles needs to go spying to see if they have decrypted the diaries, and see if Jonas kne
w as much as is feared. You,” Felicity turned around and pointed at Helena,
“Need to go downstairs and tell the Prince of Darkness, that I have a proposition for him that he might very well be interested in.”
Helena looked at her for a long moment, reading her intention before she had even realised what she might be suggesting.
“Are you sure? Once the question is asked there is no going back. Ever.”
***
Annabel groaned as the effects of the anaesthetic that had been sprayed into her face began to wear off. She opened her eyes a crack, closed them and lay still, allowing the space she was in time to stop spinning and pitching. Concentrating hard to overcome the intense nausea, she tried to move her hands, handcuffed and fastened to the side of the vehicle. The chain was short, but allowed her hands to come up as far as her face so she could scratch her nose and the top of her head. Next she tried her legs. They moved, but her feet were tied together. She wasn’t hooded or blindfolded and wasn’t gagged. She could see out of the back window, at the road they were travelling down. It felt as if she was looking at a sepia tone video. The window had a coating on it allowing her to look out, but not allowing anyone to look in.
Her head was thumping and the pain was increasing her nausea, but she was determined that she wouldn’t show any sign of weakness.
First, she tested her bindings. The handcuffs were tight enough to prevent her slipping them off without being too tight. Considerate she thought, or soft. Her feet were bound with little room for movement but the knots were sloppy and if she could lift her feet up far enough she was confident she would be able to untie them. Adjusting her position she felt a sharp stab in her side from something hard and unyielding. She scrabbled with her feet to gain enough purchase to change position and bring her jacket pocket closer to her hands. By easing her legs under her body she raised herself into an awkward kneeling position and then twisted on her knees to her left and hunched over so that she could feel inside her pocket.
The last thing she expected to find was her iPhone. She remembered texting William, but had forgotten she had put it in her pocket rather than throwing it on the seat or into her bag, which was usual. Why she wondered had they not taken it off her? She ran her hand around the edge of the phone until she found the volume controls and the mute switch. She flicked the phone to silent and pushed as far as she could into the cavernous pockets of her jacket.
Annabel eased herself back onto her bottom and made herself as comfortable as her situation allowed. Staring out of the window, she strained to focus on the outside world hurtling past and tried to recognise any road signs or landmarks. Staring at the passing countryside, she had a vague feeling that she should know where she was. Then it struck her, the wall, she was driving past, the wall. The wall bordered a section of the A31 from Bere Regis towards the New Forest. It appeared to skirt a large country house and had two large entrances along its length, one with a statue of a lion atop the entrance arch and the other with a stag. She was heading east towards Southampton and if their calculations were correct, a vast amount of cocaine.
***
“Tiny, it’s William. I need your help. It’s a long story, but I need to hire you and six of your largest friends for a minimum of a month. Can you be free?”
Tiny said,
“Yes of course. Is this connected to the conversation we had a few weeks ago? When you said that you were involved in looking into the Cortez family? I expected you to call at some point. What’s happened?”
Before he would go into the details of what was happening and how Tiny could help he needed to explain the risks and let Tiny know that his recompense would be commensurate with the risks involved. The Cortez’s would kill, without a second thought.
“I’ll pay you ten thousand pounds a month and whatever you think is appropriate for your colleagues. If any of them have close protection experience that would be useful. You and they need to be aware that this job will be dangerous. The Cortez family have killed my uncle Jonas, my father Ernest Sanderson and in the past twenty four hours have arranged a hit and run on my brother’s girlfriend leaving her in hospital and,” William’s voice cracked with emotion and he needed to take a few deep breaths before he could continue.
“And they have kidnapped Annabel Anderson a very good friend of mine. The pressure is being applied to stop us and the closer the cocaine get’s to the UK the more dangerous it becomes.” Ernest and Juanita appeared in William’s living room and seeing William was on the phone talked to him in his head.
“Ben’s been arrested as a terrorist. They have CCTV evidence of a person called Ben Sanderson leaving a rucksack in a cleaning cupboard near the Home Secretaries office in the Palace of Westminster.”
Tiny was silent for a very long moment and William began to think his graphic description of the risks had scared Tiny away. He spoke; unsure Tiny was still on the line.
“Tiny, my brother has been arrested, for attempting to blow up the Houses of Parliament…”
Tiny interrupted saying,
“Sorry William, say that again.” William took at deep breath to control his emotions and said,
“My brother Ben has been arrested while he was visiting Jemima in Yeovil hospital. They are questioning him in relation to an attempt to explode a device near to the Home Secretaries office.” William was trying to talk to Tiny and had Ernest and Juanita relay details to him in his head. He felt himself losing the ability to concentrate on two simultaneous conversations.
“Tiny I need to put you on hold for a moment.” William muted his phone and said to Ernest,
“Okay, what happened.” Juanita answered for Ernest.
“William this is the same as Annabel and Jemima, diversionary. Get a good solicitor to Yeovil police station; they’ll have him out in no time. Ernest who?” Without hesitating he said,
“Sanjay Khan-Lewis, he’s the top defence barrister in the country. He’s a friend, say Ben is my son.” William took Tiny off hold and said,
“Tiny, Ben’s at Yeovil police station. I have Sanjay Khan-Lewis on his way to get him out. Forget him for the moment. Sorry to interrupt you were about to say?”
“I was just thinking through who is good enough and available. Ok, are you at the bookshop now?”
William said,
“No. I’m here at my house, Jemima is in the Kingston Wing at Yeovil Hospital and Annabel is heading towards Southampton. Ben you know about.”
“How do you know about Annabel? No, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be with you at your house in one hour. Until I arrive stay out of sight with the doors locked. I’ll have an ex SAS sergeant with me called Rufus, good lad. An ex-royal protection office I know called John will go the hospital with a back up and can collect Ben after he’s secured Jemima. Two others will head towards Southampton by car. We can update them on the move. Can you contact the hospital and explain that Jemima is getting some bodyguards who will be there in twenty minutes? They will identify themselves and will need some cooperation. Also let Jemima know so she doesn’t shit herself when they trot in.”
“Tiny. There’s something you need to know before we continue, no secrets, ok?” William was unsure how he would react, but knew he had to tell him.
Tiny said,
“OK”
“Jemima is Jemima Cortez. Sister to Felicity Cortez and granddaughter of Charles Cortez. I appreciate that this is counterintuitive, but she is one of our biggest assets. She had no knowledge of the drugs and has no role in the family business. She wants them stopped more than we do. Ok?”
The silence at the other end of the line lasted for a full thirty seconds until Tiny said,
“I believe in taking as I find. If she’s a friend of yours that’s good enough for me”
William let his breath out and said,
“Thank you.”
***
Jemima woke trying to remember where she was. The room wasn’t familiar, but that wasn’t unusual, as she had spent
so many nights in hotel rooms around the world. The woozy disconnected feeling was familiar from her ‘party, party’ days. Two years of globe hopping from one party to the next, one continent to another. One week, Bermuda or St Kitts, the next St Tropez or Monaco, a few days later Marrakech. Then it palled, the thought of another champagne cocktail, canapé or clingy socialite experimenting with her sexuality was more than she could bear. Then Felicity had called ordering her back to London, Grandfather Charles had died. That was one corpse she wanted to be sure was dead.
Her phone beeped with another text from Ben. She keyed the passcode and opened the messages app. Scrolling back to the first text she read:
‘William’s has lost Annabel. Off to find her, expect to be back before you wake.’
The next one followed on:
‘Annabel still missing, not under sofa, so have called in reinforcements! Ernest and Juanita’s arrival is imminent.’
Then five minutes before, which was what she thought had disturbed her:
‘Annabel’s been kidnapped and is heading towards Southampton. I’ve hired Tiny and some of his SAS friends. Two on the way to protect you. Will be see you soon. William.’
Jemima lay there stunned. Why Annabel? She could understand Felicity trying to slow her down. William or Ben were also plausible targets, but Annabel? Felicity and the family were getting worried, maybe even scared. Did Felicity know that she knew how the Cortez family had been importing its cocaine for decades and not once been connected to the importation? Had Ben worked it out from the pages she had left him on her laptop?
With care, Jemima began to haul herself into an upright position, taking care not to bang or jar her damaged leg and plastered wrist. Once upright she eased the bed covers to one side and leant out from the bed, attempting to snag a part of the wheelchair that was beside her bed. The effort left her sweating and nauseous and no closer to the wheelchair. She saw a set of crutches propped up on the other side of her bed, grabbing one of the crutches, she man-handled it across her lap and holding onto the base of the crutch she tried to use the hand grip to snag the wheelchairs handle. Throwing the crutch at the wheelchair while still attached to it, she managed to get the handgrip over the armrest of the chair and pulled the chair towards her, at least that was the plan. The wheelchair jammed against the visitor’s chair and stopped throwing Jemima backward towards the edge of the bed. As her body went passed the point of no return and she began to tumble backwards, a strong hand grabbed her shoulders and lifted her back into a sitting position.
Bacchus and Sanderson (Deceased) Page 30
