“No, it’s not. How do you think I feel when you talk yourself down like that? You’re in charge now, Mike. You are the one who will get Charlie back for us, no matter who helps. You think calling Terry was a sign of weakness. I call it a show of strength. You weighed up the situation and you recognised the fact that we needed help. There’s no shame in that. Just the opposite. And I need that same strength from you now, Mike. I need it if I’m going to get through this.”
Tears spilled from her eyes. I pulled her close. Rested my cheek against her head. Said nothing at all. Just held her until she didn’t need holding anymore.
By the time we left the farm, at six-thirty that evening, we had both fed and armed ourselves. The rendezvous point was on the B6341 road to Elsdon, in a lay-by on the left-hand side. The irony of that arrangement was not lost on either of us. This was the first stage, and the point at which it could all go badly wrong. I realised that if I had misjudged Chris Dawson, if the brother had been responsible for Ray’s death and subsequent hunting down of those who survived the shooting, then myself and Melissa were almost certainly not going to survive this initial contact.
During the time we had spent at the safe house, I showed Melissa how to fire a handgun. In a storage area beneath one of the property’s three outhouses, I located a Glock 26; a sub-compact semi-automatic weapon that was small and light. Its polymer grip had subtle grooves that would guide the fingers into forming a perfect grip, and the weapon would fire whether it was dirty, wet or had just been dropped in mud. It used 9mm rounds, and I forced Melissa to fire off a dozen at the trees which stood by the house as if protecting it.
“Weapon out,” I said to her now. Knowing the Glock had no external safety lever, I added, “Rest it in your lap, and make sure you point the damned thing away from me.”
My own SIG P226, chosen from the range offered by Terry’s stash, was within easy reach. It was the tactical version, suppressed on the end of an extra length barrel, and equipped with a night sight. Its magazine held twenty 9mm rounds, and I had a whole stack of magazines available in a bag just behind the driver’s seat. Resting on top of the bag I had placed a H&K assault rifle, complete with a 40mm under-barrel grenade launcher. It was both a brutal attack weapon and, using its red dot laser sighting, a precision execution tool.
I grinned at the thought and shook my head. Terry was doing nicely for farmhouses, but even better with his caches of weapons. He must have bought half the small arms in Afghanistan back home with him, and none of the old Russian shit. And right now, I was glad of it. If I harboured any doubts about my own abilities, I was at least confident in the equipment available to me.
To us.
It wouldn’t do to forget the role Melissa might yet play.
The lay-by swept into view, and already parked up were two silver Jeep Grand Cherokees. Up to five men in each, I thought immediately. I slid the truck in behind the Jeeps, keeping my distance. The plan was for Chris Dawson and one other man to join us at the truck. Keeping the engine running, I flashed the lights twice. Then I took the Sig in my left hand and nudged the suppressor up against the door. If I pulled the trigger, the shells would pass right through it and anyone who happened to be standing on the other side.
Ahead, two doors opened on the second Jeep. I did not recognise the first to exit; a massive black man with no discernible neck. I had heard of some muscle within the organisation who went by the name of Rhino, and this guy certainly fit the bill. The second, however, was a slightly older version of the man shot dead by the NCA cop in that other lay-by. Arms spread wide as instructed, the two moved slowly across to the truck. Dawson came my way, the other man stepped over to the passenger side.
“Watch him closely,” I told Melissa. “I’ll keep tabs on the Jeeps as well as Chris, so you just focus all of your attention on your guy. If he so much as reaches a hand inside a pocket, you treat him the same way you treated those trees earlier. You hear me?”
Melissa nodded. Her hands shook, I noticed. I could hardly blame her. I recalled my first ever firefight, and the worst part was the anticipation that unravelled slowly beforehand. “Hey,” I said. “Look at me for a second.”
She turned her head.
“You’ll do great,” I told her. “Think of Charlie. Think of what it means to get her back. I have confidence in you. You’ll do what it takes, right?”
Melissa nodded.
“Good. Now, you don’t look at anything but your man until he’s back inside that Jeep.”
Chris Dawson walked up alongside the Toyota’s cab. He and I were at eye level. The window was already powered down. I nodded once. Dawson nodded back.
“I see you’ve brought friends,” I said without preamble. “Are there others in position as arranged?”
“There are. Plus, I have another four Jeeps parked up at different locations both in and outside of Otterburn.”
“I have arms and ammunition in the back for them.”
“They have weapons.”
“Not like these they don’t. I have grenades and explosives, too. Claymore mines if we need them.”
Dawson raised his eyebrows. A single sign that he was impressed.
“So, let’s get right into it and deal with the elephant in the room,” I said. “Like I told you on the phone, Mel here was not involved in your brother’s murder. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had no option but to take your brother’s BMW in order to escape, and when I did so I had no idea whatsoever that Mel and your niece were lying in the footwell in the back.”
Dawson narrowed his gaze, which until now had not been entirely neutral. “Say I believe you,” he said. He growled like a bear when he spoke. “Why didn’t Mel call me?”
I flashed a glance ahead. No movement. “I don’t want to make you any more hostile than you already are, but when Mel and I discussed what we should do, I did raise the theory that you might be involved. Mel wasn’t having any of that, and she did want to contact you. It was me who put thoughts inside her head. I don’t know you, but it’s not unknown for brothers to murder brothers.”
The silence that followed caused me to shift a little in my seat. My hands regripped my weapon, finger now resting against the trigger guard. Around twenty-four hours earlier, I had faced men of war, men trained in battle, hardened by conflict. They were my enemies, and they were disciplined, their reactions logical. Dawson was unpredictable, and therefore far more dangerous.
The man braced his shoulders a little. Met my even gaze. “And how do you know that’s not the case?” Dawson asked.
“I didn’t. Not until just then. Had no option but to take a chance on you. But I see it now. In your eyes.”
Another pause. Longer this time. I risked another check of the vehicles in front. Back to Dawson. Who sniffed the night air and reached up a hand. “I’m indebted to you, Mr Lynch. I’m Chris. I believe we’ve got a bit of business to get into.”
43
The wild and overgrown mounds of grass and heather at Otterburn Ranges are easily capable of hiding vast numbers of men. To make it harder still to spot a potential adversary, the undulating hillsides were now grainy and grey as the day leaked away to the west. Amidst it all lay those rotting shells of decommissioned tanks.
Yet I surveyed the meeting place with grim satisfaction.
A couple of hours earlier a van had pulled up to our rendezvous point. A nondescript black Ford Transit, it carried a far from commonplace cargo. It, and the two men who stepped out of the vehicle, were a surprise to everyone but me.
Melissa’s eyes were wide. “Who are these men, Mike?”
“Terry sent them,” I replied.
“So, you arranged this hours ago?”
“I did. And before you bollock me, I was using Terry’s tactics. The less you knew the less you could tell.”
Melissa did not argue.
Both men were of average height, but solidly built. Dressed all in black. Ready for action should it become warranted. The driver
sought me out, introduced himself as Rufus, and shook my hand. “Any friend of Terry’s and all that,” he said.
I made sure my grip was firm. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I know you could get into real trouble for doing this.”
He dismissed my words as if they were unnecessary. We walked around to the back of the van and the passenger who had shared the cab with him threw open the door. Along both sides was an array of electronics equipment and monitors. At a swivel seat bolted to the van’s floor was a third man, also dressed in black combat gear. In the centre of the floor stood a squat, dark grey object that looked like an enormous metallic bug.
“Let’s get her up in the air, shall we,” Rufus said. Just like Terry, he was all business.
The drone was ready to go, and as soon as it had been carried out of the back of the van and set on the floor, its fan-like propulsion system kicked into life.
“You know what I need to see?” I asked, climbing into the spot where the drone had been sitting.
The drone pilot nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. I squatted by his side as he took it up in the air. I turned my attention to one of the monitors. The drone was guided around the area I had previously discussed with Terry, offering me a perfect panoramic view of the battleground we were set to encounter. Reading the screen, I saw what I had hoped to see there. I tapped the pilot on the shoulder and winked at him. Then I placed a call to Chris Dawson, who had moved on moments before the arrival of the Transit.
When we were done, the drone came back in. Seconds later it replaced me inside the van. Rufus checked his watch and confirmed with me the time I wanted it back up in the air again. I felt good about things. We were all set.
“The two of us are volunteering to accompany the mission,” the driver said, indicating the passenger as well. “This is Gary.”
I raised a hand at the other man, then abruptly shook my head. “No. Thank you, both of you, but no. This is not your battle, and I’ve already got Terry hurt. These past couple of days have cost me dearly so far. I don’t want anyone else on my conscience.”
The two black-clothed men swapped glances. Then Rufus said, “I misspoke. When I said we were volunteering, I actually meant we were insisting. Terry led all three of us through so many shite encounters, I can’t even begin to describe to you. This is just another of those, and I think you could do with our help.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, overcome with relief. I had meant every word I’d said, and it was great that Dawson’s men were available to us, but I was also immensely relived to have these professionals working alongside us.
Now, having watched with interest the movement on the hillside with the aid of the drone cameras, I could not have been more pleased to have three warfare experts on my side. As expected, our adversaries had arrived early, checking out the tanks as potential hiding positions, before fading back into the shadows. I would not have been so obvious as to position Dawson’s men inside the ruined machines, but I respected the fact that our opponents were thorough. I left the black Transit and made my way back to the truck before thumbing in the phone number on the burner.
The call was answered on the third ring. Through my binoculars I studied the black-clad men I was still able to spot further up the hillside, looking to see if any of them put a phone to their ear. They didn’t.
“Are you ready to do this?” the man I had spoken to earlier in the day asked.
“Not exactly,” I replied.
“Don’t fuck me about, Mike. You want the child or not?”
“Of course. Charlie is with you now, yes?”
“She is.”
“So, I can speak to her, then.”
“No, you cannot. When are we going to get the ball rolling? The child is tired and scared. It’s time you settled this.”
“You seem to be in one hell of a hurry. Look, you’re a professional, man. Act like one. See the big picture. We don’t need to make this more complicated than it already is.”
“I don’t have time for this, Mike. Let’s just get this over and done with.”
I didn’t like it one little bit. I was expecting to get double-crossed. Was counting on it, in fact. There was something so out of kilter here, though. I felt it clearly. It could be something as simple as the man being supremely confident, giving off an arrogance I could not abide. But the thing that had been nagging me all along now came sharply into focus. Something the man had said when our arrangements were first made. Something I could not ignore.
“I’ll get back to you,” I said, and killed the call.
Melissa was looking at me, mouth gaping wide. “What the hell, Mike? I thought this was it. I thought you were calling to give the go-ahead.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought I was doing, too. Thing is, Mel, I told you before that something didn’t feel right. Well, it still doesn’t. I need to think hard about something he said to me earlier. I need to try and understand what he meant by it.”
“So, what was it? What did he say?”
There was a time and place to share information. I did not think this was such a time. I had an idea. Before giving myself the opportunity to question it, I acted. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes,” I told her. Then without giving Melissa any time to react, I climbed out of the truck and walked away from it. After twenty paces I dialled the same number again.
“I really hope you’re ready to go this time, Lynch.”
“What happened to calling me Mike? We’re not friends anymore?”
“Just… just get on with it. You are really trying my patience.”
I lowered my voice. “You said something when we first spoke. I thought you were insulting me. Now I’m asking myself if it was something more than that.”
“Okay… such as?”
“When I mentioned the change in plans, that all you really needed was me, you told me not to flatter myself. The more I thought about it the more I asked myself if that wasn’t an insult, what did it mean.”
“Go on. I’m listening.”
I bet you are, I thought. Playing me all along. “I also recall you talking about one more piece of collateral damage. Thing is, if I am that collateral damage, then what is Melissa? Why wasn’t she being viewed as such? Both of those statements got me thinking. I asked myself if you needed me at all. Whether what I saw or did not see in that lay-by was irrelevant to you. And if so, then perhaps it’s Melissa you really want. That in reality you’ve wanted her all along.”
“And why would I or anyone else be interested in Miss Andrews?”
There was something in his voice that spurred me on. “I don’t have the answer to that. But, if there is a good enough reason for you to want Melissa, and you can convince me of that, then I may be in a position to offer her up to you.”
“Why would you do something like that, Lynch?”
Now there was interest. Genuine interest.
“Because I’m a prick. Frankly, I want nothing to do with this anymore. I’ve done my bit, gone as far as I’m willing to go. I’d want Charlie in return, of course. But if it’s Melissa you want, I can give her to you.”
“Okay. That sounds like a plan.”
“Like I say, I would need to know why.”
The line was silent for a few seconds. Then the man said, “Ian Ringrose. The name is familiar to you, yes?”
I scoured my memory. “The arms dealer?” I asked.
“That’s the one. A man with a growing reputation. Now looking for a peerage and expected to be in the next honours list. Being groomed to go far in the political sphere.”
“So, what the hell has Melissa got to do with an arms dealer?”
“She was his secretary for a short while.”
The big shot Melissa had mentioned working for. The employer who wanted her to be more than an employee. “Okay,” I said, still not seeing the problem.
“And his lover.”
“Ah.” I could scarcely breathe. I had guessed right after all. Th
e shooting in the lay-by was never about Ray Dawson. The hit had been on Melissa. I glanced back at the truck. This nightmare had nothing to do with my stumbling upon and then fleeing the murder scene. I had been hunted down because of the person I had inadvertently driven away from the scene.
“How does all that lead to her being on a hit list,” I asked.
The man paused. But he was too far along to stop now.
“During a recent in-depth vetting process, the security services discovered that someone had, during their time with Mr Ringrose, access to confidential data. Specifically, data linking Ringrose and a couple of high-powered men from Whitehall, with arms sales to the Taliban. In turn, those sales can be directly linked to the deaths of British troops in Afghanistan and now to ISIS.”
“Fuck!” I breathed.
“Fuck indeed. After an exhaustive search, the identity of that person was eventually discovered in a safety deposit box belonging to Ringrose. Apparently, he retained it to use as leverage if necessary. Unfortunately, it revealed Miss Andrews to be that employee with access to the data.”
“You say she had access to it, but you don’t know if she actually knows anything about it?”
“That’s correct. But you understand what it’s like with these people they don’t like to take chances. And they certainly do not leave behind any loose ends.”
I felt my stomach clench. My free hand balled into a fist, and my lower jaw started to ache with pressure. “And you’re happy with this?” I demanded. “You’re ex-military, you must be. You’re happy covering up for what these people did? Selling arms to people who used them against us.”
“I’m paid to do a job, Lynch. I don’t work for the forces anymore. My private security company has premises and salaries to pay for. I can’t pick and choose the work I like. It comes my way, I carry it out.”
“So, you’re just another bloody mercenary.”
“If you like. I’m not going to debate morals with a man who is about to give up the women he’s with so as he can get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Like I said before, you’re a professional. You won’t let me go just like that.”
Scream Blue Murder: an action-packed thriller Page 28
