The Original's Return (Book 1)

by David Watkins

  “You ok honey?”

  Jack shook himself out of his reverie. “Yeah, sorry, just had a bit of a flashback.”

  Katie still looked worried. He tried to reassure her with a smile, but it felt false even to him. A change of subject was needed.

  “How about we open that bubbly?”

  He got up before anyone had a chance to argue and left the room as John and Karen started protesting that the bubbly was for the ‘new parents’, a phrase that made Katie glow. He quickly got the drink and four glasses then opened it expertly, by twisting the bottle not the cork and was rewarded with a satisfying pop, but no wastage. He filled the glasses and passed them round.

  “You ok with him?” Katie asked.

  “Oh yeah, I’m an old pro when it comes to drinking and holding kids!” Karen laughed, and much like Chris the night before, it was an infectious laugh. They toasted Josh and drank again.

  “I almost forgot.” Karen said, after an almighty gulp. “Did you hear about Frank?”

  “What?” Katie said.

  “He lost another sheep last night. A dog got it. That’s two nights running now.”

  Chapter 6

  1

  It had been a long drive from Kent to Devon. Five and a half hours sitting in a very nice top of the range Beamer, with Scarlet complaining all the way. Despite the sat-nav, air con, Harman Karden sound system, headrest DVD players and the most comfortable seats Knowles had sat in ever, let alone in a car, Scarlet had bitched and moaned about driving a German car.

  “You weren’t even alive in the war,” Knowles had pointed out, but to no avail. If anything, Scarlet upped the level of complaints until he eventually fell asleep near Stonehenge.

  Knowles was always slightly unnerved by the ancient stones. What were they for? Why were they there? Who built them? He didn’t voice any of those thoughts: the lads would have taken the piss for the rest of the op. A month could be a very long time in this company.

  Meyers did all the driving – it was his job after all. The other BMW was being driven by Carruthers, who had Jones for company. Knowles suppressed a grin. Jonesey has probably wound him right up by now.

  He read more of Jack Stadler’s file. There wasn’t much information in it. He was the same age as Knowles but that was where the similarity ended.

  Stadler had been a teacher for three years. Prior to that, he had been in a succession of dead end jobs, including running a bookshop that had failed just before he’d enrolled in teacher training. Knowles had been promoted at about that time, following his third tour of duty. He’d done Ireland for four years, Iraq twice, both times for two years. Afghanistan had been eighteen months, and that had been the hardest.

  He remembered the ambushes and the constant daily dread. He remembered children smiling at him whilst their fathers plotted to kill him. He remembered the heat. He remembered not acting fast enough to save lives. He remembered the men under his command who had not made it home.

  Too old. He thought glumly. You’re too old for this. When he signed up, he thought he would be promoted out of the front lines quickly enough, but it hadn’t happened. Lots of reasons for this. Someone else picked ahead of him. Another time had coincided with his first divorce. Next time he’d been eligible it had been his second divorce. Neither had left him in a good place. He made Sergeant when someone else had wandered into an IED and had been sent home without his legs. Although he had the respect of his men, he didn’t feel he deserved the rank. Now this: a weird assignment to watch a civilian who didn’t appear to have done anything wrong.

  In fact, just about the only interesting thing about Jack Stadler was that he had fallen into a cave two days ago, the same day his son had been born. Carruthers had remembered this just as they left Kent: he had seen Stadler on the news. What are the odds? Knowles had been in service long enough to know that nothing was ever what it seemed, but he had no idea what this was about. Was he a terrorist? Didn’t look like your typical sympathiser. Something else? Involved in a plot against the throne? Parliament? No, that would have been one for the spooks and Smith had made it very clear that they weren’t to be involved. Maybe he was making bombs? Dealing drugs – lots of drugs? Stadler was a maths teacher – perhaps he was a kiddie fiddler? That would be the police. Round and round it went in Knowles’ head. They had been given top rated security equipment: listening devices, cameras, seismic sensors and heat sensitive sensors amongst other things. Knowles also had a code word to use that would bring in the helos if something kicked off.

  Knowles had never had the power to call in helicopters before and it thrilled him a little. Even on the front line in Afghanistan he had to call FAC in order to get fire support. This was different.

  It made him wonder more and more just exactly what they had let themselves in for.

  2

  They eventually arrived in Huntleigh and the sat-nav took them directly to the holiday home. They drove past the Stadlers’ house and all looked at it quickly. It was a normal three bedroom house. The file said it was over two hundred years old, but it just looked like any other house to Knowles. Their rented house looked exactly the same.

  Double fronted, with a door in the middle. High windows which let in a lot of light. Upstairs was the same, but with an extra window above the front door indicating the position of the third bedroom. All the houses in the street were painted the same shade of cream; only the front doors showed individuality.

  A thick hedge ran down the right hand side of the road, opposite the houses. Knowles knew from the street plan that a field lay on the other side of it. At the back of the houses, at the end of the gardens, more fields rolled away. Woods were at the end of the road, about a mile away from the Stadlers’ house, and the main part of the village was in the opposite direction, at the top of a steep hill.

  Phone lines crossed above them going to every house and Knowles counted three satellite dishes in the whole street. The road itself was narrow and made more so by the row of parked cars all along it. Two street lights were in view, already on as darkness was approaching. Lots of dark places in this street. Could be to our advantage that.

  They unloaded all the gear and bags and sorted out rooms. They divided up the three bedrooms, with Knowles pulling rank to get a room to himself. The bedroom he chose had an en-suite, which made the others grumble. Once unpacked they all met in the kitchen. Scarlet and Jones cooked them a meal and Meyers cleaned up whilst Knowles and Carruthers inspected the kit. Once complete, they sat around the table. It was nearly midnight and the darkness outside was complete: even the streetlights had gone out.

  Knowles unfolded a floor plan of the Stadler home. Carruthers was examining the bugs and cameras he was going to put in the house. He thoroughly approved.

  “Look how small this is,” he said holding a dot to the light.

  Knowles gestured at the plan. “Now, look at this. There is a back door here, which leads directly to the kitchen. They have a dog, so you’ll need this.” He threw a can of spray to Carruthers. “Spray onto the dog and it will go to sleep immediately. You’ll have to be quick, just in case it’s a barker or biter.”

  Carruthers nodded once and slipped the can into the clip pocket of his black combat trousers. He slid the bugs into another one, and slipped a headset over his ear. A slim microphone swung out when he needed to talk. He pulled a black hat over the top of his head and slipped a set of night vision goggles over the top of the hat, leaving them resting on his forehead. All the while, Knowles continued talking.

  “The kitchen leads to a dining room. Then a small hallway which goes upstairs, but across the hallway is the living room. The hallway also has their front door, so you need to get a bug on the door somewhere. Remember, upstairs can wait until they are out and we have more time.”

  “Why not wait anyway?” Meyers said.

  “They have a baby,” Jones said. “They might not go anywhere for days.”

  “Agreed,” Knowles nodded. “This way, despite
the risk, we get some coverage before morning. The key areas are the doors and the downstairs rooms. Be quick, be quiet and get out if the baby wakes.”

  Carruthers nodded.

  “Good luck. We’ll be listening.”

  Thursday

  Chapter 7

  1

  Carruthers climbed over the fence at the back of their house and found himself in a large field. Thick clouds covered the sky, shrouding all his surroundings in darkness. Night vision goggles gave everything a pale green glow. He moved silently through the field, eyes scanning the ground for any sticks or branches that would break under his feet. At the same time he counted the backs of the houses, stopping at the third one away from theirs. A high hedge surrounded the rear of this garden, but a much lower one bordered the garden on his right. Carruthers vaulted this, landing in a roll. His tightly packed kit didn’t rattle, but he still paused to check no-one heard. No lights came on after a few minutes, so he clambered over the fence between this garden and the Stadlers’. He waited, completely covered in shadow for nearly forty minutes. He couldn’t hear a sound from the house. Definitely no high pitched crying from a hungry baby.

  The back door was half glazed so he could see into the kitchen. The dog was asleep in front of the washing machine. Cute. He opened the back door without the need for a key. The whole operation depended on the Stadlers removing their keys once they had locked up. He needn’t have worried: they didn’t lock the back door at all. Country folk, he thought with more than a little contempt.

  The dog’s head jerked up and its eyes snapped open as soon as he opened the door. It was clearly not used to unannounced visitors coming in through that door and so didn’t start barking for a full second. Carruthers used that time to spray the dog in the face with the canister Knowles had given him. The dog emitted one small growl then keeled over. Comedy snoring made Carruthers smile. Stage one complete. He started to look for a suitable place to hide the first tiny bug.

  2

  Jack’s eyes sprang open and he sat up, instantly alert. Katie stirred next to him.

  “What’s up?” she mumbled. “Josh?”

  “Sshh. Go back to sleep.” She grunted and rolled over. At the foot of the bed, Josh lay in his cot, arms in the cross position and mouth open. His white sleepsuit was stretched taut. Pooh bear stared back at Jack, one hand clutching a honey pot. Josh was fast asleep, soft features arranged in an expression somewhere between Einstein and Churchill. Jack smiled at the sleeping boy.

  What woke me?

  3

  Carruthers placed one bug above the door frame in the kitchen and another under the lip of the door that led to the drive. Judging by the dust, it was not a place that got cleaned regularly and the bug had a tiny amount of adhesive in it which meant it wouldn’t get dislodged easily. He crept through to the dining room, night vision giving him a clear view of his surroundings.

  The Stadlers house was nice. Solid furniture in each room, the type that was neither stupid money nor an Ikea special. A small fireplace was set into the right hand wall. In the bottom of the fireplace, where the grill should have been, sat a wine rack.

  Perfect.

  4

  Jack went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet without turning any lights on. He knew the house well enough to not step on any of the creaky floor boards. He sat there longer than he needed to, enjoying the peace and quiet. He was very tired, but he knew sleep would be a long time coming. There was just too much on his mind. He would have to return to work next week, so he would have to do some planning over the weekend. It was not a thought that filled him with joy. Imagine if your arm changes in the middle of a lesson: how would that be?

  He stood up and then heard it clearly.

  Someone was downstairs.

  5

  Carruthers eased open the door to the hallway. This was the crucial part. If the door creaked he would leg it. Four bugs were in place, the others would have to wait. It was enough to get them some coverage, give them an idea of what was going on. The door opened smoothly, and he raised an invisible glass to the Stadlers’ housekeeping. He placed a bug above the front door and entered the living room.

  There was another fireplace in this room, but this was clearly in use. It dominated the room, an open Inglenook fireplace. Carruthers was impressed. A grand-father clock ticked noisily in one corner, next to a 37 inch HD TV which looked very out of place. He went to the corner opposite the TV – no sense risking interference. A lamp stood in the corner, a large one that rose from the floor to the ceiling. He placed the last bug in the lampshade and crossed back to the door.

  And then he heard movement upstairs.

  6

  Jack stood still in the bathroom. He listened as hard as he could. An absurd part of his brain wondered if it was even possible to listen harder than normal. He heard it again. The noise was unmistakeable: someone had just opened the dining room door. Last time he’d checked, Ginny was not able to do that.

  We’re being burgled. Not with my son in the house. Please god, don’t hurt my son.

  For the first time in years Jack wished he could sleep in pyjamas. He crept out onto the landing and made his way to the top of the stairs.

  He forgot to step over the top of the stairs until it gave a very definite creak.

  7

  Carruthers didn’t panic. Later, he would be proud of that. He stepped calmly into the hallway, hoping the dark would conceal him, knowing his balaclava would protect his identity if it didn’t. He glanced up to the top of the stairs and met Jack Stadler’s eyes.

  What he saw chilled him. He wasn’t seeing the face of a family man or teacher.

  Stadler was looking at him with absolute fury and hatred in his eyes. He let out a guttural growl and started coming down the stairs fast.

  Carruthers knew that contact was not part of the plan. He knew that he could take Stadler, but he also knew that he shouldn’t. He ran. The dining room wasn’t very long and with a couple of strides he made it into the kitchen. He yanked open the back door, hearing Stadler crash his way through the house to try and catch him.

  Carruthers stepped into the garden and pulled the back door shut behind him just as something heavy hit it. He fell back in surprise, landing on the floor with a thump and the door was hit again. He looked up at the glass part of the door. An enormous black dog

  -wolf-

  was growling at him. He backed away carefully, then got to his feet. The dog

  -wolf-

  had its paws on the door and its teeth were uncomfortably close to the glass.

  Carruthers got to his feet slowly. The dog

  -wolf-

  glared at him, with teeth bared. Carruthers didn’t wait to see if it could break down the door. He turned and fled.

  Chapter 8

  1

  Jack stood in the kitchen looking at the back door, the fear slowly subsiding in him. He couldn’t remember getting there: from the hall to the kitchen wasn’t far, but it was far enough. The burglar was gone, so now what? He looked quickly round downstairs but could see nothing obvious missing. On his return to the kitchen, he bent to stroke Ginny. She was out cold and didn’t stir when he touched her.

  Strange.

  “What’s up? Why are you banging about so much?”

  “Fuck!”

  Katie was standing in the doorway, Josh snuggled into her shoulder. He was looking at Jack with wide eyes, head craned to look at him when he shouted. Lacking any strength in his neck muscles, his head flopped back onto Katie’s shoulder.

  “Sorry!” Katie moved to him and stroked his bare back. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump. You were making so much noise I thought I’d better come down. You woke Josh.”

  Jack’s heart was hammering inside his chest, but he kept his voice calm. “I thought I heard something, so I came down.” It wasn’t me. I was on all fours.

  Katie’s face drained of colour instantly. “What did you hear?”

  He tried to avo
id her gaze, but failed miserably.

  “Jack. What did you hear?”

  “Someone was in the house. I think I must have scared them away.”

  Oh yes Jack. Damn near gave him a heart attack when he saw you coming.

  Jack ignored the little voice. He had no memory from standing at the top of the stairs looking at the man in black to being in the kitchen with his hands on the door. No memory except for-

  What? Chasing him on all fours? Seeing him clearly although it was pitch black?

  “Oh my god.” Katie held Josh more tightly. “We’ve been burgled?” Her voice had become higher pitched and she was trembling slightly.

  “Nothing’s been taken.” He held her tightly, her body helping warm him back up. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the cold was seeping in to him. “I think I scared him away.”

  “We need to phone the police,” she said, voice back to normal. She thrust Josh at him and picked up the phone.

  “Wait,” Jack said. She looked at him, puzzled. “Something’s wrong with Ginny. She’s not woken up at all since I’ve been down here.”

  “WHAT? They poisoned my dog?”

  Katie had got Ginny at around the time they had started dating. Whenever she was ill, or did something exceptionally cute, she reverted to being Katie’s dog. Of course, Jack did all the walking, feeding and cleaning up after her.

  Katie knelt down and stroked Ginny. “She’s breathing.”

  “Maybe they used a sleeping drug on her.” Katie gave him a sceptical look so he shrugged. “It happens.”

  “I’m phoning the police.”

  2

  Carruthers sat in the garden as soft rain, occasionally heavy, fell on him. The garden was a nice size – not too big or small. Steps led down to the house and there was a small patio area at the top before the lawn started. A rusty gas barbecue sat on the patio next to a very old children’s slide, which was covered in green slime. It glistened in the rain. The barbecue was attached to a gas canister and a gauge said it was almost full. He couldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to cook on the rust bucket. When he was sure no one had followed him, he returned to the house.