Instead, he turned his attention to the security settings on the lid of the box. The lock was based on a simple combination mechanism, which could be altered only once the case was open. Now, Mark set the new combination to the pre-determined sequence and flipped the lid closed.
As he stood, the roar of a large engine reached his ears.
He raised his eyes to the lip of the small hill above the well site, spotting a second project-designated vehicle as it began a rapid descent towards him.
He lifted his hand in greeting and waited until the four-wheel drive pulled to a standstill next to Jack’s vehicle. A second man sat in the passenger seat next to the driver and appeared to be talking to him as they stopped.
The driver nodded to the other occupant and then leaned out of the window and called across to Mark, the engine still running.
‘Where’s the other one? I thought there were going to be two of them?’
Mark waved his hand across the meadow to where Jack’s body lay. ‘He tried to run.’
‘Didn’t work, eh?’
Mark shrugged. ‘What happens next?’
‘This,’ said the driver. He moved in his seat, revealing a gun of his own.
Mark’s eyes opened wide. ‘Wait, there’s a —’
His voice was cut short as two bullets entered his chest in quick succession.
As his body fell to the ground, the passenger door of the ranger’s vehicle swung open and the second occupant jumped out, hurrying over towards the silver box.
‘Come on – help me,’ he called to the driver. ‘We need to move.’
‘Wait,’ the driver said, pointing to the ground. ‘I’ll get the bullet casings.’
He retrieved the two casings from his own gun and then paced the ground until he worked out where Mark had been standing when he fired his weapon, bent down, and picked up the last casing.
He pocketed all the casings before joining his colleague and, between them, they hefted the box from the ground and hurried back to their vehicle.
Swinging the rear door shut, the men clambered back into the four-wheel drive. The driver flicked the handbrake and then floored the accelerator and steered the vehicle in the opposite direction of the site gate and security office.
A smaller, less well-advertised gate appeared in a dry stone wall, an access way for the farmer whose land they were on. A single project security vehicle had been parked next to it, its windows fogged. As they approached, an orange-coloured sleeve wiped the condensation away and a face peered out, frowning.
‘Shit, he’s seen us.’
‘Don’t worry about it. The project logo’s on all the doors. Just wave.’
The driver slowed to a halt and waited until the security guard had climbed out of his vehicle, huddled against the faint drizzle that was beginning to sweep across the hills, and jogged over to the gate. He threw a mock salute at them as they passed.
‘Okay, wait until we’re round this corner, and then floor it.’
The driver accelerated smoothly away, putting as much distance between them and the well site as he dared. Spotting a lay-by a couple of miles later, he swung the vehicle into it, and both men jumped out.
They worked silently, the driver fetching a large water container from the back of the four-wheel drive and used it to clear the worst of the mud from the tyres and bodywork, while his passenger pulled the magnetic logos from the vehicle.
As they clambered back into the vehicle and slammed the doors shut, the passenger glanced at his watch.
‘We’re right on time.’
CHAPTER 3
Dan opened his eyes, aware of a faint breeze across his face, and noticed the door to his room was ajar.
He pulled the headphones from his ears, the faint echo of rock music stalling as he hit the ‘stop’ button.
A nurse stepped out from the small bathroom off to one side of the room, the colour of her uniform bright, as if she’d only recently started her shift. She checked over her shoulder and then closed the door, smiling as she approached the bed.
‘Right, Mr Taylor,’ she said. ‘The doctors say you’re well enough to be walking around, so let’s get all these monitors unplugged.’
She moved efficiently, manoeuvring the wires away from his body, pushing the monitors to one side so she could access the plug sockets next to the bed.
‘Doesn’t that usually mean an alarm goes off somewhere?’ He sat up as she straightened and swung his legs over the side, flexing his toes and ankles, eager to escape.
‘No, it’s okay,’ she said. ‘Your notes show you as being discharged this morning.’
The dressings on his shoulder blades tugged at his skin, and he grimaced as the stitches underneath the dressings pulled at his healing wounds.
‘Wait,’ she said, placing a firm hand on his arm. ‘Let me finish.’ She gestured to the loose gown he still wore. ‘You’re not going anywhere until I get those last patches off you.’
Dan grimaced, turned, and grabbed the sheet, stuffing it across his lap and then pulled the gown off.
His eyes met the nurse’s gaze as he handed the gown to her, all too aware of his nakedness.
She was staring at the scars that dotted his chest. A split second later, with a slight shake of her head, she raised her hands and began to gently lift the sticking plasters away from his skin.
‘Sorry,’ she said as he flinched at one particular tug.
‘It’s fine,’ he replied and concentrated on the name tag pinned across her left breast.
Stacey.
He swallowed, trying to ignore the sensation that was stirring between his thighs. Instead, he tried to concentrate on his own breathing, the nine times table – anything except what was going on under the sheet.
The nurse finished her task, but her hands lingered on his skin. She pulled away, and her eyes met his, a steely gaze that bored into him, taunting him.
In a split second, his instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong.
Very wrong.
He pushed her away as her hand fell to the pocket of her white shirt, and she extracted a small syringe and wrenched the safety cap from it.
Dan’s eyes opened wide at the sight of the small needle that poked out from the end as she turned it towards him.
Then she lunged.
Dan brought his hands up as she reached for him, caught hold of her wrists, and twisted her hand away from his neck.
For one with such a small frame, the woman possessed incredible strength. Not to mention the fact that she appeared to be incredibly pissed off and determined to kill him.
The needle arched upwards, and he pulled his face away from its point, sliding his body away from the bed until he was crouched over the woman, her elbows on the mattress.
‘Nice try,’ he said, and then swore as her heel found his instep.
As his grip slackened, she wrenched her arms out of his hold, tearing herself away from his clutches until she was facing him, waving the needle in his direction.
Dan realised if she escaped, no-one would believe him. He lurched forward, reaching out for her, trying to keep his hands away from the sharp end of the weapon she held, then cursed as the sheet fell from his hips and landed between his feet as he stepped forward.
He tripped, landing in a heap, cursing profusely.
A manic giggle escaped from the woman, and she turned back, a gleam in her eye.
He reached down, desperately pushing the material away from his ankles as she drew closer.
‘Now I’ve got you,’ she hissed and stepped forward.
Dan pulled the sheet, the end of it under her feet, sending her toppling off balance.
She cried out, her eyes wide with shock, her free hand frantically thrashing in the air as she tried to find something to hold onto to stop herself from falling before her knees buckled under her.
Dan realised too late what was going to happen.
The woman landed awkwardly on her hip, the hand that
grasped the syringe trapped under her own body weight.
Dan crawled across the floor to her, hoping he was wrong, that she’d dropped the weapon.
‘Shit.’
Her body began to convulse, her eyes wide with fear and pain as froth bubbled between her lips, her feet thrashing at the tiled floor.
Dan launched himself towards the emergency button next to the bed, punched the heel of his hand against the red surface and then turned and dropped to the floor next to the woman.
‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘Don’t give up. I need some answers, dammit.’
Tears rolled down the woman’s face as her skin began to turn a sickly blue-grey hue, and he realised he was quickly running out of time. He knocked the syringe from her useless hand, then gripped her jaw between his fingers as he tried to prise her teeth open to clear her airway.
A choking sound passed the woman’s lips, before her head slumped to one side, her eyes wide and staring blindly to where Dan crouched.
‘Dammit.’
He eased himself upright and then stood on shaking legs, reached across to the small cupboard next to the bed and pulled on a pair of clean boxer shorts that had been folded and left on a shelf. He ignored the jeans and a black t-shirt and instead began to search for his mobile phone.
He turned at the sound of running feet from the corridor outside, spinning on his feet with his fists raised as the door crashed open and two security guards rushed in, weapons ready, eyes wide.
The taller of the two lowered his gaze to the dead nurse on the floor, then back to Dan. ‘Are you all right, sir?’
Dan lowered his fists and glared at him.
‘What the fuck is going on around here?’
CHAPTER 4
Ben Hicks slowed the four-wheel drive vehicle, killed the headlights, and cruised to a standstill.
‘I can’t see it.’
The industrial site appeared deserted, the flat-roofed buildings leading into the barren complex. Here and there, an estate agent’s sign flapped forlornly against wire mesh fencing, the once-pristine landscaping around the buildings now overgrown with weeds and ragged shrubs.
He’d driven through the convoluted roads leading around the estate until satisfied they weren’t being tailed, and then turned into a short driveway that approached one of the smaller buildings as the sun had begun to dip towards the horizon.
Joe had jumped out, pushing the steel mesh gate open to let the vehicle through.
Ben had exhaled, surprised he’d been holding his breath, worried that their contact might have double-crossed them and left the gates locked.
Now he peered through the side windows, seeking out an errant security guard – or worse, a guard dog.
Nothing moved.
‘It’s here. Don’t worry.’ He checked in the rear view mirror, then over his shoulder, paranoia gripping him despite his confident assertions to the contrary. ‘Come on.’
He opened his door and climbed from the vehicle, his boots crunching the loose gravel beneath his feet. He groaned, placed his hands in the small of his back, and stretched. The bulk of the gun at his waistband was reassuring.
After he’d received his instructions last night, he’d thought briefly about arguing the case against shooting Mark, but bit his tongue instead. He’d seen what had happened to men who had disobeyed orders. He had no intention of joining them.
He inhaled the night air, stretching the kinks out of his tired muscles. Pale haloes of light pooled from streetlights on the road into the estate, casting an orange glow that reflected on the cracked asphalt of the car park.
The drive south had been uneventful, but the risk had always been there. He’d eyed the speedometer fanatically, insisting they both wear baseball caps and keep the windscreen sun visors down in an attempt to disguise their faces from the numerous cameras that lined the motorway.
He glanced sideways as Joe rounded the back of the vehicle and joined him, his hand on the gun at his hip.
‘Calm down,’ he said. ‘There’s no-one here except us.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah.’ He reached into his pocket, pulled out a packet of cigarettes, and tapped one into his palm, the small lighter dropping into his hand a fraction quicker. He flipped the cigarette between his lips, lit it, and then tucked the lighter back into the packet and tossed it towards the other man. ‘Here. Let’s have a walk around.’
‘I thought they would have left it somewhere easy to see,’ grumbled Joe, helping himself to a cigarette before handing back the packet. ‘They know we’re on a tight deadline.’
Ben chuckled. ‘What? And have half the neighbourhood kids steal it before we turn up?’ He snorted. ‘Not likely.’
He led the way past boarded-up windows, an estate agent’s sign nailed to the wall faded by sunlight and strewn with graffiti.
As they rounded the corner of the building, they entered a wide alleyway created by the empty premises and the neighbouring property. Old discarded metalwork and industrial bins lined the outer wall.
Ben checked over his shoulder before pointing to a second four-wheel drive vehicle parked halfway along the alleyway in front of them.
‘Bingo,’ he said. He handed Joe the keys to the first four-wheel drive. ‘Bring it round here. We’re swapping transport.’
As Joe’s footsteps receded, Ben stalked towards the new vehicle. He ran the torchlight over its bodywork, grunting appreciatively at the nondescript paintwork and age.
Anything too new would draw unwanted attention. Anything too old would run the risk of being pulled over by the police.
He crouched down and reached under the wheel arch, his fingers probing until he felt the soft surface of electrical tape, and pulled.
The key fell away easily, and he stood as the dimmed lights of their previous transportation rounded the corner behind him. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare, unlocked the replacement vehicle, and slid behind the wheel.
Once it had been manoeuvred into place, the two men carried the silver case to the back of the new four-wheel drive and removed a tarpaulin, draping it over the old vehicle.
Joe leant down and unscrewed the licence plate from the front and then moved to the back and repeated the action. Once he had completed this, he straightened and held up the plates to Ben, grinning.
‘That’s phase one done,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’
CHAPTER 5
Dan pointed at the syringe ensconced in a transparent plastic box on the desk. ‘What was in there?’
Neil Evans flung his fountain pen to one side and sighed. ‘Actually, it’s quite ingenious,’ he said, unable to contain the note of admiration in his voice as he launched into an elaborate account of the drug and its capabilities.
‘In English?’
‘A very effective barbiturate. Deadly in large quantities, as you saw.’
Dan ran his hand over his face and fought down the weariness that threatened to consume him.
Rest and recovery, the doctors had told him.
So much for that idea, he thought.
‘I’m going to need to visit the armoury after this,’ he said. ‘I want my service weapon back.’
‘I can’t let you do that, sorry,’ said Evans. The current acting head of the Energy Protection Group shrugged apologetically and pulled a document across the desk towards him and then pulled reading glasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them on. ‘It says here your psychological examination isn’t due until the end of next week.’ He peered over his glasses. ‘Until then, you’re not entitled to carry a weapon.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ Dan exclaimed. ‘You and I both know that’s bullshit.’
‘It is what it is,’ said Evans.
He was saved from a further outburst from Dan by the telephone ringing. He snatched it from its cradle, ignoring the glare Dan aimed at him, before his brow creased as he listened to the person at the other end of the line.
‘Okay. We’ll be ready for h
im,’ he eventually muttered and hung up. ‘The Prime Minister’s senior policy advisor is on his way. He wants to meet with both of us,’ he explained.
‘I heard a rumour there was a bit of a government shake-up while I was out of action. Is that true?’
‘You could say that.’ Evans checked his watch and then leaned back in his chair. ‘Six weeks ago, the Prime Minister was nearly ousted from office. Instead, he managed to scrape through a ‘no confidence’ vote.’
‘That must’ve been an interesting few days.’
‘It was nerve-wracking for the security agencies,’ agreed Evans. ‘The Minister that tried to topple the PM was making it quite clear he was going to cut our funding as one of his first priorities.’
‘Dangerous and stupid.’
‘Yes. And now dead.’
‘What?’
‘Committed suicide three days after the vote to overthrow the PM failed. His wife found him. Bloody awful, actually – he’d hanged himself in the garage of their home.’
‘What did the PM do?’
‘He regrouped and effected an immediate Cabinet reshuffle. I should warn you – Hugh Porchester is now one of the Prime Minister’s senior policy advisors, and he’s working directly with us.’
Dan grunted noncommittally. He turned his head at a knock on the office door.
‘I heard a rumour you’ve had problems seeing eye to eye with him in the past,’ said Evans, lowering his voice. ‘Is that going to be an issue today?’
‘None whatsoever,’ Dan assured him. ‘I’ve reported directly to him during a couple of missions since that time. I’ll keep it professional.’
‘Good,’ said Evans, pushing his chair back and standing. ‘Because there are no limits to the man’s ambitions. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of him.’
As he passed Dan to open his door, Dan failed to hide a smirk. Evans’s evaluation of Hugh Porchester had been quite accurate.
He’d had a close call with the Prime Minister’s advisor a few years ago when the man had been in a junior Cabinet role, but Porchester had since embraced the Energy Protection Group, often championing the unit’s cause on their behalf and attending briefing sessions when the Prime Minister was otherwise engaged. The two men had fallen into an uneasy truce, the need to guard against potential threats to the United Kingdom’s infrastructure greater than their own differences.
Three Lives Down (A Dan Taylor thriller) Page 3
