The files were in Russian, so he wasn’t able to decipher them straight away. When and if he had time he would go through them, but now was neither the time nor the place. The screen flashed as the download was complete, and pulling out the drive, he replaced the computer and slipped out of the door into the safety of the corridor.
Blacke was having a meeting at three and the men from down in the storage had mentioned that a gas would be released at four o’clock. Steel had to get to that meeting and stop whatever trade was about to happen. He was alone and that was how he liked it. He headed for the elevators, reasoning that he had to get back to his room urgently, so as to see what goodies he had collected from the mercenary in Vigo. The doors opened and he stepped in casually. “So where are you heading?” asked a kindly old man who was standing next to the switches.
“Oh, the belly of the beast, but number twelve is fine, thank you.”
TWENTY-SIX
McCall made her way back to the hotel where they had found Jones. Crime tape still blocked the doorway of room 214, and they had replaced the door, mostly to prevent undesirables from taking souvenirs from a crime scene or from taking cell phone pictures of where the body of Jones had lain. The air was thick with the smell of too many people in one spot, and the aroma still lingered, as if the walls had absorbed the scent.
CSU had finished their sweep hours ago and were on the way back to the lab to carry out their investigation, but McCall wasn’t interested in the room. As she reached the doorway she strolled past and headed for the stairwell to the attic. At the top of the stairwell, two doors faced each other: one was for the fire escape and the other was for the attic. On the red coloured door, a large sign said No Trespassers and Employees Only. McCall produced the key she had found in Jones’s shoe and tried it in the lock; the dull metal key slotted in effortlessly, and with a turn and a click she was inside the room.
It was dark and the sound of her shoes echoing suggested that it was large and mostly empty. She produced a small flashlight from her pocket and searched for the main electric switch and found it to be a pull handle on a breaker box. She pushed it down and watched the strip lights flicker on one by one, revealing a large room with map boards and murder boards. Personnel files were broken down into the groups of people, as if each one was a case file for Jones. He had locations marked and timetables of what these people’s routines were. He had studied these until he had formed his plans to kill them.
“Oh my God,” she said to herself, in awe of the room. She put on her surgical gloves as she moved round, trying to absorb the enormity of what she’d found. Why go to all this trouble, unless it had to look like an accident? she thought to herself. She took out her small camera and started to take photographs of as much as she could. She wanted something she could study later and something on file in case any of this should go missing.
McCall looked across and found an old desk with a load of files stacked neatly in piles, and moved over to it and sat in the office chair. She noticed one file explaining how all her victims were connected to something called ‘OPERATION UNITY’. She sat back and started to read, and the more she read the more everything came together. McCall had a feeling this whole damn mess was to do with a ship, because it seemed that most of the people here worked around ships or shipping, but she didn’t know how they were connected or why.
In one file, McCall found a list containing all their names. Karen Greene was the recruiter of thirty-six personnel who would start work on a ship that was due to sail three weeks ago. Donald Major had done some specialist electronic work on the ship and John Barr had also been on site during the final build, and had helped to install some specialist equipment. John Barr was a welder as well as a crane operator.
Even though Sam now had more than enough proof that Jones had contact with each and every one of her victims, something still didn’t sit right. She worked her way through the piles of different coloured files until she reached one that made her stop. The front cover merely said ‘NYPD HOMICIDE’.
With a shaking hand, she opened it slowly, expecting to find a hit list. Instead what she found was enough to make her slam the file shut and push herself away from the desk. She thought for a moment, rocking in the chair and looking at the door. McCall felt she had to do something quickly but now more than ever she wasn’t sure who she could trust. She picked up the file and placed it in the small of her back, underneath her jacket. With a sigh she took out her cell phone and pressed the speed dial for the captain.
“Sir, it’s McCall,” she began. “I went back to the crime scene and I think I found something. We need CSU back here.” She powered the cell down and placed it away and waited for the captain and the techs to arrive. She knew she had only a few minutes before this place became a circus. Only a few minutes to find something else that confirmed the mole’s identity.
She continued to look through the files for information, something more about this Operation Unity, but came up empty. Sam walked over to the information boards and the faces of the victims: pictures of them laughing and just going through life, oblivious of their fate. It was obvious that they had been pressured into doing whatever they had done, be it a good pay cheque or coercion.
Sam looked at one picture of Donald, who was hugging his wife before he went to work, her hand resting on the picture as if she was taking special note of it. She smiled and moved on, hoping to find something in the pictures that might reveal what they had been working on. McCall stopped and looked around, thinking, The Browns. Where the hell are the Browns?
Then someone appeared at the door—it was the captain, who was just standing there with his mouth open. “You have got to be kidding me,” he said, making her turn.
“Sir, I didn’t hear you come in.” She felt shocked at his sudden presence, as he walked up to her, still fascinated by the room.
“Sorry, Detective, what were you saying before about the Browns?” McCall stood up and pointed at the boards in front of them.
“Sir, I don’t think Jones killed the Browns. If you look he has done everything with precision so far, he’s acted professionally, so for him then to do a messy job at the Browns doesn’t make sense. No, I don’t buy it. Someone else is involved.”
Captain Brant nodded in agreement. “He could have paid someone else to do it.”
McCall shock her head. “No. This guy had some sort of sick code: every one of his victims never suffered.”
Sam reached into her pocket and took out her phone. There was a message from the precinct telling her that she had to be ready for the interview at twelve o’clock. She put it back in her pocket.
“Bad news?” asked the captain, and McCall shook her head.
“No, just the station letting me know my interview is at twelve.”
Brant looked over at her and smiled. “Just tell them what you know, nothing more, nothing less. This is just a standard procedure, you know that.” McCall still had a strange look on her face as if she didn’t believe that was the case. “What’s wrong, McCall?”
She badly wanted to tell him about the file containing the traitor within the department, but she couldn’t, not yet. “It’s nothing, sir, just been a long week that’s all.” McCall walked over to the door and turned. “Sir, I have to go and get ready for IA.”
He waved her off with a limp hand. “You go, McCall, I’ll wait for CSU. Just remember it’s simply procedure—nothing to worry about.”
As she rushed down the stairwell, she began to feel that Steel had been justified in not telling anyone about his past—it was the reason he stuck to the shadows. He had warned her about a mole in the precinct and he was right.
Dark clouds hung over the ocean like a fearsome beast, and flashes of light emanated from within them as the raw power of the heavens was about to be unleashed upon the ocean below while the massive liner cruised slowly towards the blackened maelstrom. Even the heavy leviathan rose and fell, carried on the monstrous waves that took them on their jo
urney. The speakers throughout the ship gave a quick tone to alert the passengers of the danger: “Ladies and gentlemen, due to adverse weather conditions we request that everyone please remain in your cabins until further notice, thank you.” The message was then translated into several different languages before the chime sounded again and everything became silent throughout the corridors and hallways.
Everyone obeyed the captain’s request, apart from a handful of people who sat in the smokers’ lounge. This room was large, with the capacity to seat over a hundred people. The floor had thick expensive carpet throughout, heavy looking leather chairs, and couches around oak coffee tables in groups. It looked more like a gentlemen’s club than a smoking room. At the back along the left wall there was a long bar with oak and brass fittings, and a huge mirror set up behind. To the right there was a large panoramic window displaying the starboard side of the ship and the dark forbidding skies.
Tia looked out across the chaotic horizon through the large windows. She watched as the rain began to fall in sheets of bullet-like droplets that hammered against the thickened glass. Flashes of light illuminated the dark foreboding clouds, and below the waves started to grow in size and intensity, some of them larger than a small house. The storm was here.
Opposite the entrance to the room there was a nest of six armchairs surrounding an oval oak coffee table which held a silver champagne bucket and six fluted glasses. Facing the door sat the Stewarts, who were red faced and angry.
Jane Stewart checked her watch and then continued to tap the leather of the arms of her chair. Bob turned to her and gave her a look of disapproval, which made her stop. Tia watched them in the reflection of the glass—the dark backdrop made it easier to see the room in detail. The door opened and they all looked over to see Anthony Blacke strolling in, accompanied by the waitress in her maroon velvet cat suit that glistened as she walked, followed by the Russian man Vedas, wearing a grey pinstriped suit and a burgundy cravat.
The Stewarts looked even more enraged at the sight of the new company.
“You said you would sell to us!” growled Jane.
Blacke nodded. “Yes. And I said the same thing to them.” He pointed to the two Russians as they sat opposite them. Blacke walked to the table and checked the label on the champagne, which was a 1970 Dom Perignon, and smiled appreciatively as he opened the vintage bottle.
“Now that we are all here we can get down to business,” Blacke announced smugly as he sat in the chair that was at the head of the table. “Now, everyone is here due to my invitation to procure some lost merchandise. Now the game here is, ‘Who has the deeper pockets’. So shall we play?”
Everyone shot up out of their seats as Missy and Albert Studebaker walked in, as if they were late for a meeting they had been invited to. Blacke remained seated as though nothing was amiss.
“Okay, folks let’s get some buying done shall we?” Blacke shook his head as he grinned at the whole ridiculous situation.
“Mr. and Mrs. Studebaker, I am afraid you have the wrong room. This is a private gathering, and frankly our business is probably out of your league.” Blacke exposed his sparkling white teeth in a shark-like grin.
Albert Studebaker sat in one of the free chairs that was next to Vedas and got his cheque book out and placed it on the table, saying,
“Mr Blacke, my wife and I recently sold some stock which we made a handsome profit on. So you see I have five hundred million spare in my account just doing nothing.” Blacke’s eyes lit up as he put down his glass and opened his arms as if the elderly American man was his long-lost friend.
“Welcome, Mr Studebaker, welcome.”
Tia rolled her eyes and continued to stare through the window into the darkness.
“Do you know what’s for sale?” Tia asked Albert, her gaze focused on her reflection in the window.
Albert shrugged and sat back into the chair, causing the leather to give a distinct squeak as he did so.
“Don’t know. Don’t really care as long as I can make a profit.” Blacke had a cunning smile on his face as he listened to the large man’s words.
“So is it hot, the thing that’s on offer?” Albert asked. “Is it hot?”
Blacke sat back in his chair.
“Oh, my dear sir, hot isn’t the word. The cargo we have, well, it will blow you away.” Suddenly Albert was feeling nervous. Sweat began to build upon his forehead as he realised that he had walked into the wrong party.
Steel had made it back to his suite and pulled out the black bag he had got from the shooter in Vigo. He had only briefly looked inside before, but now he needed to know if there was anything useful inside it. He looked at his watch: it was ten minutes past three, and he had to get to the smoking room that was on Deck Eighteen. The bag that doubled as a rucksack was fastened together by zips and buckles. He opened it and smiled as he began to lay everything out to get an inventory of what he had to work with. He laid down the leg holster and pulled the Glock 42 from the rigid plastic holster. Pressing the small catch next to his thumb he released the magazine and then pulled the top slide to the rear. He caught the hollow-point .45calibre round as it was ejected from the open barrel, then Steel laid both the round and the weapon down beside the holster.
Looking inside the bag he took out a small combat knife and seven full magazines for the Glock, and his smile widened as he pulled out a silenced Heckler and Koch UMP - Universal Machine Pistol: the large gun was similar to the MP5 that the movies loved so much. He laid it down after checking that the thirty-round clip was full. Inside the bag he found another five stick magazines for the .45 calibre machine pistol. Steel strapped the leg holster to his right leg and the knife’s sheath to his belt. Taking up the weapons, he prepared the pistol and the machine pistol for use. He was as ready as he could be, and his goals were simple: find Tia and get her off the boat. Then find Blacke and find out what the mystery was all about.
The investigator looked at his watch, finding that it was now quarter past. He had to get to the smoking room before the gas was released throughout the ship. He moved quickly out of his room and headed for the elevators, knowing he didn’t have to sneak around, since everyone would be in their rooms. Steel admired the brilliance of the devious plan to ensure everyone was poisoned by the gas by confining them to their rooms. He reflected that it must have required more planning than the D Day landings to pull this off successfully.
Steel passed through corridors until he reached the elevators. Just as he was going to press the call button he saw the numbers on the LED display were moving upwards, meaning that someone was coming. Quickly he found the fire axe behind the plated glass and, using the fire extinguisher next to it, smashed the glass. He ripped the axe from its mount and hurried over to the doors and, with a massive swing, the blade of the axe imbedded itself into the metal. Steel used the axe handle to prise open the doors.
As he looked down he could see the approaching elevator moving upwards fast. He knew he had to time it right, or whoever was inside would be alerted to his presence as he got on top. Steel held the doors open with his hands as he looked down, one leg dangled ready to step onto the box as it came past, aware that his timing had to be perfect, or he would be dead.
John Steel closed his eyes and listened for the sounds of the elevator’s approach, then he stepped onto the roof of elevator’s car. As he crouched down, he exhaled deeply and gathered his strength. Moving over to the maintenance hatch, he opened it slowly and looked down into the elevator car.
Inside were two men standing by the door. They were dressed all in black, with combat vests and there were plenty of guns stacked near the door. He had to be quick.
Slowly, Steel opened the hatch fully then quietly dropped down behind them. He kicked the first man in the back so that his face crashed into the door panel and he fell to the ground unconscious. The second man was quick to react, and brought his machine pistol round to fire, but Steel managed to force the weapon against his chest as it spray
ed bullets into the door. The two men struggled against each other until Steel head-butted the man, then brought his knee up to the man’s crotch. As he fell forwards, Steel ejected the gun’s stick magazine and smashed the flat end against the man’s left temple. Steel moved back into the corner of the car to catch his breath, before taking the rucksack off his back and laying it down.
John then removed one of the men’s combat vests and put it on. Checking the pouches he found more magazines for both the pistol and the machine pistol. In small bags strapped on the men’s hips, Steel found some gas masks. He patted one of the vanquished men on the head and strapped one of the masks to his face and stowed the other in the bag.
Next he stripped the men of their armaments and ammunition. Reaching over, he pressed the lift button for Deck Eighteen and then continued to fill the bag.
Steel removed the left leg-holster from one of them and strapped it on, then he stood up and adjusted the straps. He smiled as he thought that for every bad guy he took down he’d be able to gather more ammo. The doors opened on the eighteenth floor and Steel edged out and checked the corners of the corridor. As he scanned the floor his eye caught a glimpse of a possible hiding place for his new pals: the ladies’ restroom. He smiled a wicked grin.
TWENTY-SEVEN
McCall entered the cutting room to find Tina dancing around whilst she spoke to someone on her cell phone. She leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed as Tina laughed a false laugh and spun round like a ballerina. Tina turned and stared McCall straight in the eyes and froze.
“Oh yes, Captain, yes I understand, yes, sir. Well, I have got to go now, see you later.” Tina put her phone away as if nothing was wrong.
“Wow, I didn’t know you and the Captain were such good friends,” McCall joked, knowing full well that the caller was Tina’s mystery man.
“Anyway, Detective,” Tina ignored her friend’s jibe.
Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2) Page 31
