by Bill Ward
“I want Lara back,” Powell stated firmly. “And she better not be harmed.”
“I don’t really think you’re in any position to threaten me.”
“Really? I think you should be very worried. It won’t be difficult for me to find out who you are and then I have only to speak with my contacts at MI5 and I’m sure they will want to understand why you never passed on the name Al-Hashimi. And that will only be the start of your troubles because there will be a great deal of explaining to do about your American friends.”
“I think, Powell, you have put two and two together and made five. The best thing you can do is go back to Brighton and your bar. Lara has been arrested under ant-terrorism laws for helping terrorists in Saudi Arabia. I don’t know what rubbish she told you but she is a threat to this country’s security.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You’re acting illegally.”
“I assure you, everything I do is perfectly legal and in the interests of this country.”
“So where is Lara being held?”
“We’re not in the habit of telling just anyone where we are holding a terrorist suspect. Go back to Brighton and forget about Lara. Otherwise, we might see the need to investigate you further.”
“I will go back to Brighton and develop amnesia if you tell me where to find Lara. Otherwise, I’m going to make your life hell. I don’t care what games you’re playing but I do care about my friend. If you harm Lara, I promise you will live to regret it.”
“Don’t threaten me. I’m not some junior flunky. I’m warning you to keep your nose out of my affairs or else…”
“Or else what?” Powell asked, as he grabbed Barnes by the lapels of his suit and pinned him back against the wall. At the same time he stuck the small listening device under one lapel. Once again he was grateful to Brian for his help.
After a moment, Powell stepped back and smoothed down the jacket lapels. “Let’s stop threatening each other. What do I have to do or say to convince you to return Lara?”
“You don’t have anything I want,” Barnes snapped.
Powell’s initial pleasure at finally being face to face with Barnes was diminishing rapidly. He had thought Barnes would wilt under the pressure of his very presence but he had badly miscalculated. If it was pure bravado, Barnes was doing it well. There was little more Powell could achieve through threats.
“I’m sorry you don’t want to cooperate,” Powell said evenly. “I came here to try and broker a deal. My silence for the safe return of Lara. I can see I am probably wasting my time but I will give you two hours to think about what I’ve said. If I don’t hear from Lara within the next two hours, I will make more noise than you ever thought possible. I take this personally and I am holding you responsible for my friend’s welfare. If anything happens to her, I swear you will see me again and next time, I won’t be so polite.”
“I don’t expect to see you again,” Barnes replied. “I suggest you leave before I have security throw you out.”
Powell stood up and walked to the door without looking back.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Powell stopped by David’s desk on the way out.
“Did you get what you want?” David asked.
“Not really but at least I now know what he looks like. Are there any other exits from here?”
“Yes, there’s one at the rear.”
“Thanks for your help. Sorry again about last night. I didn’t think you’d help if we just approached you normally.”
“You’re right. I’d have told you to fuck off. Mara is rather more persuasive.”
Powell smiled. “I’m sure she is.”
“Listen, Powell, if I can help further let me know. I hope you find your friend.”
“Thanks.”
“Perhaps we can all go for a drink again when this is all over?”
“Just give her a call and ask her out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mara. Just call her. Don’t wait for us all to get together again just so you can see her.”
“I’m not sure I’m her type of bloke. She’s a very special girl.”
“How does that motto go? He who dares wins.”
David smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I need to get going. Remember, I own a very nice bar in Brighton so anytime you want a few beers come and see me. The drinks will be on me. You’ve been a great help. And if you let me know you’re coming I’ll get Afina to invite Mara over.”
“That would be brilliant,” David replied with a huge grin.
Powell shook hands and left. He decided he liked David Drinkwater.
On the street, Powell briefly told Jenkins about his meeting with Barnes. “He’s a pretty cool character but hopefully I’ve ruffled a few feathers. How is reception?”
“Loud and clear. Immediately after you left, he made a phone call and arranged to urgently meet someone at his home. Said the club was no longer safe to meet.”
“What was this person’s name?”
“Neither of them used names on the phone.
“We need to stay close to him and find out who he is meeting. There’s a rear exit he might use so we need to be alert.”
“I can track him from my phone. Brian has some really neat toys. I’ve not come across a dual purpose bug like that before, which transmits voice and location.”
“Let’s grab a taxi,” Powell said, stepping in to the road with his hand in the air.
A black cab quickly cut across another car, receiving a blast from the driver’s horn, and pulled to a stop at the pavement. They both climbed in the back.
“Where we going?” the cab driver asked.
Powell reached forward and handed a twenty pound note through the hole in the glass partition. “We’re still deciding. That’s just a tip.”
“Fine with me,” the driver replied. “Let me know when you’ve decided.”
Jenkins was studying his phone. “He’s on the move. Must have used the rear entrance. Driver, we need to head for Grosvenor Square.”
The driver pulled out into the traffic.
“Turn down Park Lane,” Jenkins directed.
Powell said nothing as they tracked what was presumably another taxi up ahead, along the Cromwell Road towards Hammersmith. Jenkins continued to give directions as they crossed Hammersmith Bridge. A couple of miles further and Powell noticed the road sign.
“Do you see where we are?” Powell asked.
Jenkins looked up. “We’re in Hammersmith, aren’t we?”
"No, we just left Hammersmith. We’re now in Barnes.”
“Barnes. Didn’t know there was such a place. Interesting coincidence.” He looked back down at his phone. “Looks like we’ve arrived.”
Powell could see the taxi up ahead at the side of the street. Barnes was paying the driver through the car window. He glanced around and then went inside the house.
Powell paid the thirty pound fare and added another ten pound tip. They were in a very expensive residential street and even though the houses were in semidetached pairs, Powell knew the houses would cost millions.
“We can’t stand around out here,” Powell said. “His visitor might arrive any minute. Let’s go check out those shops and see if we can get a coffee.”
They found two coffee shops and chose the nearest to the house. Jenkins was listening to Barnes through headphones but to the casual observer just looked like he was listening to music.
Powell sent Brian a text with the address where the man calling himself Barnes lived and asked him to check who actually lived there. Before he received a response another taxi drew up in front of the house. A man in his fifties stepped out and walked quickly up the path to the front door.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
As Barnes opened the door to his visitor, Jenkins was trying to unobtrusively take pictures of them both on his phone.
“What’s so bloody important, I have to come all the way out here?” Crawford asked i
mpatiently, once inside the house. “I can’t always just drop everything I’m doing and come running like this, I’m a busy man.”
“Do you want a drink?” Barnes asked pleasantly, ignoring the outburst. He found Crawford prone to loud and unnecessary outbursts. He lacked manners.
“I don’t drink during the day.” Crawford made it sound like a crime worthy of capital punishment.
Barnes had already helped himself to a whisky. He didn’t care what the damned American thought.
“I can make you tea,” Barnes offered. He knew full well Crawford didn’t like tea. “Or would you like some water, perhaps?”
“What I’d like, is to know why the club is no longer safe to meet?”
“I had a visit from that Powell chap this morning. Bloody cheek of him. He just wandered in the club pretending his name was Brown and threatened me. He said if he didn’t hear from the Lara woman within two hours, he was going to cause a stink.”
Crawford was thoughtful for a moment. “So he knows who you are?”
“I doubt if he knows my real name. He must have found me through your man Brown. I told you he wasn’t up to the job. He must have told Powell about our meeting at the club.”
“We need to get rid of Powell. Set up a meet.”
“On what pretext? He just wants to get the damned woman back.”
“Tell Powell, I need to meet with him to be confident he’s going to keep his end of the bargain and keep his mouth shut. Tell him we’ll bring Lara to the meeting. And he’s to come alone.”
“He’s no fool. He might smell a trap.”
“If he wants to see Lara alive, tell him he has no choice. If he continues with his threats we will be forced to get rid of her. He seems to care for her so I’m sure he will agree to a meeting. We need to choose a place that makes him feel safe.”
“Do you have somewhere in mind?” Barnes asked.
“It needs to be somewhere busy and central. I have an idea and we might be able to kill two birds with one stone.”
“Are you going to go?” Jenkins asked.
“I think I have to. The good news is the confirmation Lara is still alive. They don’t know we are expecting trouble and I’ll have you with me as backup.”
They had listened to the entire conversation from within the house while sat drinking coffee.
“But they are going to try and kill you and Lara. At least I assume that’s what he meant by killing two birds with one stone. If it’s somewhere crowded you won’t even see them coming.”
“Then you better do a good job of watching my back.”
“And what if there are several of them?”
“They won’t try anything while I’m with Barnes and the American. We just have to keep our eyes peeled for danger.”
Jenkins didn’t look convinced. “Okay. Let’s wait and see where they suggest meeting.”
They saw the front door open and the visitor leave. “Try and get a photo of him,” Powell urged.
Jenkins sprang to his feet and headed outside. Powell watched him walk a little way down the road but with his back to him, couldn’t be sure what success he was having with taking photos.
The visitor waved down a taxi and Jenkins returned to the cafe.
“Did you get some?” Powell asked.
Jenkins regained his seat and looked at his phone for a minute, checking the photos. He handed the phone to an impatient Powell.
“Good photos of his back,” Powell acknowledged.
“Sorry.”
“It can’t be helped. At least the photos of Barnes are clear enough to get an identification. I’ll send a copy to Brian.”
Powell’s phone rang. It was a withheld number.
“Powell,” he answered.
“My colleague wants to meet with you,” Barnes said. “He is willing to return the woman, if he is convinced you can both be trusted to keep your mouth shut. He plans to spell out to you why it would be foolish not to keep quiet.”
“When and where?” Powell answered without hesitation.
“We thought you’d feel safer somewhere busy so Leicester Square. There’s a Mexican restaurant next to the Odeon cinema. We’ll be there at six.”
“Sounds good to me. Make sure you bring Lara. And no funny business.”
“Lara will definitely be there.”
“Good. Then life can go back to normal for all of us. I can run my bar and you can get back to whatever it is you do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Powell and Jenkins went straight from Barnes to Leicester Square. It was still four hours until the meeting but Powell wanted to check out the restaurant and the general area outside.
They walked slowly around Leicester Square and as usual the place was swamped with people, a large number of them tourists. There were numerous potential targets for terrorists and in the crowds it would also be easy for someone to make an attempt on his life, walking to or from the restaurant.
Powell was old enough to remember the assassination of Georgi Markov on a London street via a micro-engineered pellet containing ricin, fired into his leg via an umbrella wielded by someone associated with the Bulgarian secret police or KGB. Markov thought he had suffered an insect bite but that evening he became ill and there being no antidote for ricin, four days later he was dead. It was one of the scenarios discussed in his training when he joined MI5.
The restaurant had a small front entrance on the Square but once inside was large and went back a long way. They sat at a table near the entrance and ordered some tapas and a couple of pints of San Miguel. Powell wasn’t really hungry but he wanted to become familiar with the interior before the meeting.
He went to the toilet and used the opportunity to check for other exits. He wasn’t surprised to find an emergency exit at the rear. Back in his seat, he wondered if the opposition already had men in place. He glanced around the restaurant but there were no obvious candidates.
Powell’s phone rang and he was pleased to see it was Brian.
“What do you know?” Powell asked.
“Nothing, which is very scary.”
“What do you mean?”
“We ran the photo through our facial recognition software and there was no hit. There is also no one living at the address in Barnes. ”
“I don’t understand.” Powell had been certain he had collected enough information to make identifying Barnes an easy task.
“Neither do I. If he worked for any branch of the government we should have had a match.”
“So who does he work for?”
“Almost certainly MI6…”
“But you just said…”
“I said we should have had a match. The fact we didn’t is scary because it means he probably works for a small clandestine element of MI6, which doesn’t officially even exist. They have virtually unlimited power and their directive is simply to do whatever it takes to combat terrorism. They sit outside the normal structures of MI6 and report directly to the Home Secretary.”
“Are you sure they exist? I mean, it’s not just one of those urban myths MI5 likes to attribute to MI6?”
“Nobody will admit to their existence but I’ve suspected there is such a group for some time. If he works for them, it helps explain the American connection. They were supposedly born out of nine eleven to work with the Americans. It was felt there was a new era of terrorism and it needed a new unit to combat it.”
“Brian, whoever these people are, we know they have not been sanctioned to commit kidnapping and murder in the UK. Unlike the Americans, we don’t hold people for years without trial.”
“That may be the whole point.”
“What do you mean?”
“In the UK if we arrest someone then indeed they end up in court. If you don’t think you are going to like what they say in court, then you need to keep them outside of the justice system. The extreme interpretation of that is to have them killed rather than formally arrested.”
“But that is never
legal.”
“I’m not sure. It depends on the remit of the people pulling the trigger. It wasn’t so different in your day. Things were done in the name of fighting terrorism that were illegal according to the laws of the time.”
“All I know is that they can’t go around killing members of the public because of some perceived rather than actual risk. Lara and I are happy to keep our mouths shut but it seems they still want us dead.”
“I didn’t say it was right just the reality.”
“By the way,” Powell said, changing subject. “I think we’ve lost contact with Barnes. I don’t know whether he just changed his clothes or found the bug but we’ve picked up zero sound and it’s saying he hasn’t moved from the house for the last two hours.”
“Could be taking a sleep.”
“Not very likely given everything that’s happening.”
“Pity, would have been nice to know what they were saying leading up to the meeting.”
“Actually, thinking about it, he probably just changed his jacket. If he’d found it, he would have used it to feed us false information.”
“True,” Brian agreed. “I need to get going and see if I can uncover more about Barnes. I’ll see you later.”
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
As six o’clock approached, Powell was getting nervous. Brian’s revelation about Barnes possible role within MI6 was extremely worrying. He had described a group of people working outside the law, able to command significant resources and ruthless in their intent.
Powell had reached the conclusion it would be a minor miracle if they were all to make it back to Brighton in one piece. He was pleased Afina was out of harm’s way. Lara, Brian and he had all made career decisions, which at least in part, had led to them being in this situation. Jenkins was a former soldier turned mercenary so had definitely chosen a dangerous lifestyle. Afina had made no such choices but encountered an enormous amount of danger over the last year. At least on this occasion she was one less person for him to worry about.
