Hunting Ground

by L J Morris

  Hadley grabbed his jacket and got in beside her; the door slammed shut as Sinclair floored the accelerator and drove towards McGill’s position.

  McGill picked up his rifle and sprinted towards Sinclair, jumping into the back seat as she slowed to a crawl. As soon as McGill was on board, she accelerated.

  McGill looked out of the rear window. ‘What the fuck just happened?’

  Sinclair lowered her window and threw out her phone. She looked at Hadley. ‘This prick must have told someone where we were. Vadim must be tracking us. Ditch your phones, both of you.’

  Hadley took out his mobile. ‘I had to tell someone where I was, they don’t just let me wander out of the office whenever I feel like it.’

  ‘Whoever you told, leaked it to Vadim. You nearly got us all killed.’

  Hadley looked sheepish. McGill was glaring at him, probably trying to decide whether to shoot him now or later. Hadley cleared his throat, beads of sweat running down his face and the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry, take me to Vauxhall Cross, you’ll be safe there and I can arrange for the security services to come in and meet us.’

  Sinclair smiled. ‘Not a chance. My friends, the only people I care about and trust, are in real danger because of people like you and Vauxhall Cross. That’s the last time I trust any of you.’

  McGill pressed the quick dial for Carter’s number and left a message. ‘Simeon, Vadim is on to us, the meeting is blown … Watch your back, we’re leaving.’ He hung up and threw his phone out of the window.

  * * *

  Marcus Enfield wasn’t holding back. His face was red and the vein in his forehead pulsed as he screamed down the phone. ‘Why can’t we kill any of these people? I thought we had experts dealing with this. Do you realise how vital it is to me that I get rid of them?’

  DCS Thorpe could hear Enfield’s rant without even holding the phone to his ear. He knew he’d fucked up, knew he only had one more chance. He had to get this sorted out, his life depended on it.

  Enfield’s bodyguard was watching for anyone who might overhear his boss’s tirade. If anyone heard any of this, it would be very difficult to explain away.

  The Home Secretary carried on haranguing Thorpe. ‘I want this done NOW. I want that folder. I want Sinclair, and anyone who knows what’s in the folder, DEAD. It’s them or you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I promise I’ll—’

  Enfield slammed down the phone. ‘We need to watch him. If he looks like he’s losing his nerve, I want him to disappear.’

  The bodyguard turned to face Enfield but stayed by the door. ‘I’ll take care of it, sir. Personally.’

  Enfield nodded. His face was no longer red and his breathing had slowed, but he was still fuming. ‘I’m glad I can rely on someone.’

  Chapter 41

  Sinclair headed north, away from London, away from Vadim’s apparent power base. They stayed off the motorways as much as they could and stuck to the minor roads. It would make for a long journey but there were fewer CCTV cameras – less chance of being tracked.

  They had stopped once, just south of Manchester, to fill up with petrol and wait until dark before carrying on. Now, with Sinclair snoozing in the back seat, McGill drove them through rural Cumbria towards the one place where he would feel secure: his family home, Rock Cottage.

  As they approached Rock Cottage, Sinclair opened her eyes and sat up. McGill switched off the headlights and pulled the car into a layby within sight of the house. ‘I’ll go up and make sure it’s all clear. You stay here. If I’m not back in an hour, get out of here.’

  Sinclair got out and switched to the driver’s seat. ‘Be careful.’

  McGill rubbed dirt into his face to stop any light reflecting off his skin, and pulled on a black woollen hat. ‘It’s okay, I know all the blind spots, if there’s anyone up there, they won’t see me coming.’ He tucked one of the Glocks into his waistband and climbed the dry stone wall that marked the edge of his property.

  Sinclair checked her own weapon and stared up at the house at the top of the hill. The roofline was silhouetted against the night sky but, even with the dim light from the moon, and her eyes fully used to the dark, she still couldn’t make out McGill. He’d done shit like this too many times before to be spotted easily. Sinclair settled back into her seat and waited.

  It took McGill forty-five minutes to check the house and get back down the hill. He climbed over the wall and walked back to the car. ‘Keep the lights off, Ali, and drive up to the gate. I’ll open it and let you in. Drive up the hill and straight into the barn, I’ve left it open.’ He looked at Hadley. ‘You can get out and walk up.’

  Hadley wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t end up in a shallow grave, but, for now, he would do exactly as he was told. He got out of the car and followed McGill.

  Sinclair waited until McGill was at the gate then she started the car and drove out of the layby. She revved the engine as she drove through the gate and kept in a low gear to make the ascent of the steep hill easier. Anyone trying to sneak up on them, up this hill, had their work cut out for them. The tyres slipped and the engine came close to stalling, but, after a couple of minutes she made it to the top and drove into the barn. She switched off the engine and waited for McGill to appear before she got out of the car.

  McGill closed the barn door and switched on a red light that was hanging from one of the rafters. He opened the boot and took out his rifle and the two backpacks they had brought with them. ‘We need to get some sleep before we do anything else. You go in the house and get your heads down, I’ll take the first watch.’

  McGill passed the next few hours checking the security of the buildings and the access routes up the hill; he had spent years installing sensors, trip wires and hidden cameras all around the farm. Some might say he was being paranoid, but he had pissed off a lot of nasty people in his time. People who would think nothing of tracking him down and making him suffer. If anyone came near the house, he wanted to know. He wanted to know who they were and what they were doing, before they got to him. By the time Sinclair took over the watch, everything was set up.

  An ominous red sky hung above the fells as McGill came out of the house and joined Sinclair. He handed her a fresh coffee and sat down on the old garden bench that leaned against the barn. ‘NATO standard coffee, as usual.’

  ‘Thanks, Frank. You get any sleep?’

  McGill took a sip from his cup. ‘A little. I could’ve done with a few more hours, but we’ve got things to do. Maybe we’ll have a holiday, if we live long enough.’

  ‘What’s our plan from here?’

  He looked at Sinclair, she was tired. Time spent on the run and the constant expectation that something was about to kick off had taken their toll. ‘We could keep running, disappear, start a new life, but, as long as we’ve got the folder, they won’t leave us alone; Vadim will never leave you alone.’

  ‘So, what do we do?’

  ‘We have to hope that Carter and Lancaster can finish things off at their end. They’ve got a copy of the folder, they have to bring it all out, get it to someone we know we can trust.’

  She nodded towards the house. ‘Hadley?’

  McGill shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I just don’t like Vadim’s men tracking us down when we go to meet Hadley. It’s too much of a coincidence.’

  ‘You think he’s in on it?’

  ‘He may not be involved, but he’s a threat to our security. He obviously can’t keep his mouth shut.’

  ‘What can we do to help Simeon?’

  McGill looked at the surrounding buildings. ‘We make a stand. We stop running and fight. Vadim wants you and the folder, we keep his attention on us and buy time for Carter and Lancaster to bring him down.’

  ‘Here?’

  McGill nodded. ‘I’ve made a few modifications to the old place. It might look like it’s falling down, but you’d be surprised. This is as good a place as any.’

  ‘Okay, but we don’t k
ill anyone who’s innocent. If they send the police, the army, they’re just doing their job, they aren’t part of the conspiracy.’

  McGill finished his coffee. ‘We protect ourselves. If they try to kill us, we kill them first, it’s the only way. Stopping Vadim is more important than any one of us or them. We have to give Simeon time to do something.’

  Sinclair nodded. ‘Let’s just hope he gets it done quickly.’

  McGill took Sinclair’s empty cup. ‘Right, time for some breakfast. Let’s see what I’ve got in the cupboards.’

  When they walked into the house, Hadley was just sitting up on the old, worn sofa that he had slept on in the corner of the room. He looked like he’d spent the night hiding in a bush. His normally immaculate clothes were creased and grimy, his hair stuck out at odd angles, and his unshaven face looked like it had aged overnight. McGill found it funny. The MI6 spook had obviously never spent any time sleeping in ditches or huddled under tarpaulins like he and Sinclair had. Hadley was used to the finer things, the only places he spent the night were five-star hotels. ‘You should’ve been in the RAF, mate, they’re used to comfortable surroundings.’

  Sinclair laughed. It was normal for the different arms of the forces to make fun of each other, it was part of their mentality, part of their brotherhood. Hadley looked confused – he came from a completely different background and didn’t understand what they were laughing at.

  McGill, still chuckling at his joke, walked to the stove. ‘Right, who wants a brew?’

  Chapter 42

  The Home Secretary brought the COBRA meeting to order. Around the table were the heads of the security services, senior police officers, and minsters and representatives from various government departments. Enfield looked at the faces that were all looking to him for leadership. Some were new in their post, stepping in to replace those killed or injured in Geneva; some were old hands who didn’t trust the Home Secretary at all, but were biding their time. All of them were waiting for him to speak.

  Enfield shuffled his papers. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to start by condemning the cowardly attack in Westminster, and expressing deepest sympathy to all of the families involved. The perpetrators of this outrage cannot be allowed to get away. We will bring them to justice.’

  There were lots of nods and expressions of agreement. Some of the old hands thought the Home Secretary was just grandstanding, but they nodded, too.

  ‘I’d also like to condemn the attempt on the life of the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service, yesterday. He is a brave man, and was personally striving to gather evidence on the latest terrorist attacks against our country. We don’t know his current whereabouts, as he has decided to stay in hiding for the time being. I will be asking the Counter Terrorist Command to take charge of the operation and ensure Hadley is safe.’

  There were more mumblings of agreement.

  Enfield waited for silence then continued. ‘After the debate and vote in The House, we have cross-party support and agreement for military action if the Turkish government are not forthcoming with the details of those responsible for the attacks. Today we need to discuss what our plans are. General?’

  The Chief of the Defence Staff put on his glasses and opened the file in front of him. The wall of screens at the end of the room showed a large map of the Mediterranean, with icons showing the positions of various military units. ‘Thank you, sir. As of this morning, we have recalled several regular army units. However, this is just a precaution as we do not see an immediate need for boots on the ground, other than special forces, at this stage. The Royal Airforce are readying for air strikes and we are moving two Astute Class submarines into the Med. Initial strikes will be by TLAM.’

  One of the newcomers raised his hand. ‘Sorry, what’s a TLAM?’

  The General looked up from his notes. ‘It’s a Tomahawk cruise missile.’

  The newcomer looked sheepish and nodded, looking back at the screen.

  The General continued. ‘The A-Boats,’ he looked over his glasses at the newcomer, ‘that’s Astute class submarines, carry TLAMS and are also able to deploy special forces. Once the deadline has passed, we will be in a position to make the first strike.’

  Enfield looked around at the faces in the room. ‘Any questions for the general?’

  Once again, the newcomer raised his hand. ‘Sorry, Home Secretary, but Turkey is a member of NATO. Don’t we risk damaging the alliance if we launch a military intervention against another member?’

  A junior minister from the Foreign Office nodded and chipped in. ‘If we hit Turkey, they will undoubtedly leave NATO, and leave the eastern end of the Med open to the Russians. Their influence is increasing in Turkey month on month as it is.’

  Enfield looked annoyed. ‘I appreciate your comments and your misgivings, none of us want the country to go to war. However, we have already had the debate and the House has voted. Once the deadline expires, we will be taking military action.’

  Everyone was looking at the two junior minsters. They both wanted to argue against this but thought better of it.

  Enfield closed his folder. ‘If there’s nothing else, I’m sure we’ve all got things we need to do to prepare. Thank you all for your support.’ He got up and left the room.

  Chapter 43

  McGill sat in the kitchen of the farmhouse and looked at a large flat screen television that he had hung on the wall by the door. The screen showed the feed from twelve CCTV cameras that were positioned around the property. Every inch of the farmyard, the surrounding land and the access road could be monitored from the kitchen.

  On a desk in front of the television were controls for each camera and an alarm panel. The panel was a steel box, which had two rows of six red LEDs that were linked to motion sensors on the cameras. If any sensor picked up movement, the LED would light and the corresponding camera could be zoomed in to check the area. The lights came on occasionally as the local wildlife moved around the farm; McGill checked every one of them.

  The house itself had solid stone walls, two feet thick, and every window had steel shutters on the inside. Both doors into the main house had two steel poles braced against them on the inside. Each pole slotted into a metal socket cemented into the floor. The doors were two-inch-thick oak and had heavy duty hinges at three points. They would be almost impossible to break down without some heavy-duty hardware. He might be accused of going a bit too far, but he would say he was just being careful. He would also argue that today’s events were proving his point.

  It was early afternoon when McGill spotted the car. It had pulled up in the layby they had used the previous evening. There were three passengers who had, up to now, made no attempt to get out. Occasionally, a cloud of cigarette smoke billowed out of one of the windows; they were waiting for something.

  Sinclair stood close to the screen. ‘What do you think they’re doing?’

  Sinclair zoomed the camera in as far as he could. ‘They’re just watchin’. They have no idea whether we’re here or not, they’ve just figured out we might have come here. Give ’em time. They’ll come up and take a look sooner or later.’

  ‘Are we ready?’

  McGill looked at the kitchen table. In a steel box were two assault rifles, four nine-millimetre pistols, multiple magazines for each and several boxes of ammunition. He had brought the box up from the basement, where he had hidden it behind a false wall. He and Sinclair had spent the morning cleaning the weapons and loading the magazines. ‘I think we’ve got the hardware for anything that comes our way, we just need to stay alert.’

  Sinclair picked up one of the pistols and cocked it. She slipped it into a shoulder holster and put two magazines into her jeans pocket. ‘Try to wait until they’re close, give them the chance to surrender. If they’re security services just checking us out, they’ll back off. If they’re Vadim’s men, and we have to kill them, it’ll be easier to hide the bodies if they’re already up here.’

  McGill didn’t take his e
yes off the screen. ‘They only get one chance to walk away from this. If they choose not to take it, we have to defend ourselves.’

  Sinclair nodded.

  Hadley stood beside them. ‘Shouldn’t I have a gun, just in case?’

  McGill looked at Sinclair and shook his head. Sinclair nodded her agreement. Although he hadn’t given them any real reason to be suspicious about him, he hadn’t given them a reason to trust him, either. Sinclair closed the lid of the box and locked it. ‘You just stay here, we’ll deal with this.’

  As they watched the screen, the car’s doors opened and the three passengers got out. One of the men stubbed out a cigarette then walked to the gate and climbed over. He walked up the track as if he were out for a walk, looking for directions. Sinclair and McGill left the house and split up.

  McGill made his way down the hill, while Sinclair positioned herself behind the barn with a view of the approach to the house. She watched as the first passenger kept to the path. He wasn’t trying to hide, he was being as noticeable as possible, even shouting ‘hello’ as he got closer. The second passenger kept low and swung around towards the back of the house.

  McGill was tracking the third man as he moved left and kept down below the dry stone wall. If this guy made it to the top of the hill, he would be behind Sinclair. McGill would be taking him out well before then, but, for now, he waited for Sinclair to make the first move.

  Sinclair was focussed on the second man who was trying to sneak around the back of the house. She could see the first man, standing at the top of the path, out of the corner of her eye, but he wasn’t a threat, yet. The second man had reached an old feeding trough, twenty metres from the house, and was holding a pistol in his right hand. He nodded to the first man, who pulled out his own weapon from a shoulder holster, and stepped forward.

  The loud bang and bright flash came from a small explosive charge that McGill had rigged to a trip wire. The first man didn’t see the fishing wire strung across the top of the path and he walked straight into it. The charge wasn’t enough to injure anyone, it was little more than a bird scarer, but it was enough to disorientate him.