Tango One

by Stephen Leather

  "Six grand a kilo, six thousand kilos, that's still thirty-six million quid." Fullerton raised his glass to Donovan.

  "I salute you, Den."

  Donovan picked up his own glass and toasted Fullerton.

  "Back at you, Jamie. And a chunk of that money is for you. Couldn't have done it without you."

  "Nah," said Fullerton.

  "You could have funded it yourself "Wasn't sure I'd be getting that money back, Jamie. That's an added bonus."

  "Fifty-five million dollars is one hell of a bonus, Den."

  The two men sipped their champagne.

  "These guys who are bringing the gear in. You've used them before?"

  Donovan shook his head.

  "No, this is the first run. They're good guys, though. Russians." Fullerton got up and refilled Donovan's glass.

  "They were flying for the Army in Afghanistan," Donovan continued.

  "Huge transporter planes, almost as big as jumbos. Ilyushins, they're called. The Russians used them to fly troops and cargo, up to forty thousand kilograms. Jamie, these things can carry battle tanks."

  "So you're using the Russian Army to fly drugs halfway around the world?"

  "Nah, they left the Army a few years back. They were working in Afghanistan when the Soviet empire fell apart. The Russians stopped paying their soldiers, and after six months with no salary they just took the planes. Flew two of them out of Afghanistan to Luxembourg. Reregistered them and set up their own air freight company, subcontracting out to charities and relief agencies. If a charity wants to fly food or medicine into Africa or wherever, they call these guys. They're working out in Turkey at the moment, flying stuff out to the earthquake survivors."

  "And Turkey is where they turn Afghanistan opium into heroin."

  "Got it in one, Jamie. And it's mainly Russian chemists doing it. My mates have got contacts. We do in one hop what it takes the Turks weeks to do. They bring their gear overland, through God knows how many countries, and at every border there are palms to be greased."

  Donovan put his glass down again.

  "Right, let's get that money transferred into my pal's account, then we're off and running."

  After he left Fuller-ton's flat, Donovan used an international calling card to phone Carlos Rodriguez in Colombia.

  "I heard you were no longer with us, my friend."

  "Not for the want of Jesus trying," said Donovan.

  "If it makes you feel any better, I did soil a perfectly good pair of boxer shorts."

  Rodriguez chuckled.

  "What is it you want, Den?"

  "I want you to call Jesus off," said Donovan.

  "I've just transferred ten million dollars into your account."

  "And you got that money from where, my friend?"

  "My accountant. I found him."

  "Congratulations. Ten million, you say?"

  "Check for yourself, Carlos."

  "I will, my friend. And if what you say is true, I will talk to my nephew."

  "Thank you, Carlos."

  "I am sorry for any unpleasantness."

  "I understand, Carlos. If the positions had been reversed, I'd have been the one spraying you with bullets."

  Donovan hung up. His next call was to a Turkish businessman who lived in a twelve-bedroom mansion overlooking Wimbledon Common. A while later he caught a black cab to Wimbledon and spent the best part of three hours with the man.

  Donovan got back to Louise's flat just after midnight. He let himself in and smiled as he saw that she was asleep on the sofa, curled up around a cushion. A half-finished game of patience was laid out on the coffee table.

  He went over to her and brushed her cheek. She murmured but didn't wake up. He leaned over her and blew gently in her ear.

  "Wake up, sleepyhead."

  She opened her eyes and squinted up at him.

  "Oh, hi Den. Sorry- I was waiting up for you."

  "You didn't have to. But thanks."

  Louise sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

  "How's Robbie?" Donovan asked.

  "He went to bed at ten," she said.

  "Made me promise to get you to go and say goodnight when you get back. What time is it?"

  "Late. Go on, you go off to bed and I'll make up the sofa."

  She stood up, then lost her balance and fell against him. He caught her, his hands instinctively slipping around her waist. She looked up at him, her mouth only inches from his, and before he knew what he was doing Donovan was kissing her. His tongue probed inside her mouth and she responded, grinding her hips against his, then just as quickly she pushed him away, gasping for breath.

  "I'm sorry," said Donovan.

  "It's okay," she said, brushing the hair from her eyes.

  "No, that was stupid." He realised that he was still holding her around the waist and he released his grip, but she made no move to back away from him.

  "After what you went through with that guy, the last thing you want is some man mauling you."

  "It's not that, Den. Honest. And you're not just some man." She kissed him on the cheek, close to the mouth, then slid her hand around his neck and kissed him again, softly on the lips.

  "When she broke away this time, it was slowly and with a soft caress along his cheek.

  "It's just that with Robbie next door, and everything else. Now's just not the time." She gestured around the flat.

  "And this isn't really the place. It wouldn't feel right. Do you understand?"

  Donovan smiled.

  "Sure. He's already caught one parent in the act."

  "You know what I mean, though?"

  "I know exactly what you mean. Now off to bed, I'm knackered."

  "Everything's okay?"

  Donovan nodded.

  "Everything's just fine. Couldn't be better."

  The shower was running when Tina got up so she made toast and coffee and had the table set by the time that Donovan came into the room.

  "Robbie up yet?" he asked.

  Tina shook her head. Donovan knocked on his son's bedroom door and shouted for him to get out of bed. He sat down at the table and bit into a piece of dry toast.

  "Do you want to do something today?" he asked.

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. Shopping. The zoo."

  "The zoo?" laughed Tina.

  "You know what I mean. Get Robbie out of the house."

  "I'm going to have to go out for a while," said Tina.

  "But in the afternoon, sure."

  "Anything I can help you with?"

  Tina shook her head.

  "Shopping. Woman's stuff. I won't be long. How did it go yesterday?"

  "Better than I'd hoped," said Donovan. He drank his coffee.

  "I got the money back. The money my wife cleared out of my bank accounts."

  "Den, that's great news. That's brilliant."

  "It's better than a kick in the head. I've paid off the guys who were after me, so I'm almost free and clear."

  "Almost?"

  "Just one more deal."

  Tina sat down at the table.

  "Can't you stop now? You've got your money back."

  "I've got to see this one thing through, Louise. Too many people will lose money if I pull out now."

  Tina reached across the table and held his hand.

  "Den .. ." she said.

  The bedroom door opened and Tina pulled back her hand. Robbie walked out, dressed in a Simpsons T-shirt and jeans.

  "Hey, just because it's Sunday doesn't mean you don't shower," said Donovan.

  "Can't I have breakfast first?"

  Donovan waved at him to sit at the table.

  "Do you want me to cook?" asked Tina.

  "I've got bacon and sausages."

  "I'll do it," said Donovan.

  "You go get your stuff."

  Tina picked up her bag and left. She walked to the main road and caught a black cab to an Internet cafe. She kept glancing over her shoulder but knew that there was n
o reason for anyone to be following her. Donovan trusted her completely. Trusted her with his only son.

  She paid the taxi driver and went inside the cafe. It was one she'd used several times before to file reports to Hathaway.

  Tina sat at the computer terminal and lit a cigarette. Two schoolgirls at the next terminal were giggling to each other as they sent messages to a chat room, while a teenage boy at a machine in the corner kept looking around guiltily and turning his VDU so that no one else could see what he was looking at.

  A waitress brought over a cappuccino and put it down next to Tina.

  "Are you okay there?" she asked in a New Zealand accent.

  "You know what you're doing?"

  Tina forced a smile.

  "Technically," she said.

  "I'm sorry, but it is no-smoking here."

  "Okay. Sorry." Tina took a long drag and prepared to stub it out.

  "No worries," said the waitress.

  "If no one complains, I don't care. I'm a twenty-a-day girl myself. But if you see a sour-faced guy with acne, that's my boss, so get rid of it quick, yeah?"

  "Thanks," said Tina gratefully. She waited until the waitress had gone before logging on to Hathaway's website. Over the past few days she'd heard enough one-sided telephone conversations to get a rough idea of what was going on. She'd heard Donovan talking to someone called Charlie, and they'd discussed Turks and a plane. He'd spoken to someone called PM about money being transferred, and she kept hearing him talking about 'gear' and 'heroin'.

  Donovan was putting together a major deal and it was going to happen the following day. Tina wasn't sure where, though she'd heard Donovan say 'airfield' several times, so she'd assumed it was coming in by plane. As he'd said 'airfield' not 'airport', Tina thought that must be significant. It wasn't coming into Heathrow or Gatwick.

  Tina began to type, then she hesitated. For the first time in three years of being undercover she felt guilty about what she was doing. She took no pleasure in betraying Den Donovan.

  Donovan and Robbie were watching television when Louise arrived home.

  "Get everything you wanted?" asked Donovan.

  Louise held up a Safeway carrier bag.

  "Do you still want to go out?" she asked.

  "Dad said we could go to the Trocadero and play video games if it's okay with you," said Robbie excitedly.

  "Fine by me," said Louise.

  "Let me put this stuff away and we're out of here."

  They drove to Central London in the Audi and spent the best part of two hours in the Trocadero, with Robbie rushing from machine to machine.

  Several times Donovan caught Louise watching Robbie with a wistful look on her face.

  "You never wanted children, Louise?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure," she said.

  "I thought all women had maternal instincts."

  "Yeah, well you never met my mother," said Louise.

  "My family situation isn't something I'd wish on any kid."

  "Just because you had a rough time doesn't mean your kids will. Sometimes we learn from the mistakes our parents make."

  "Yeah, and sometimes we repeat them. I'm not sure if it's worth the risk."

  They watched as Robbie went over to a racing video game and sat in its bucket seat, expertly guiding a computer-generated car through a series of sharp turns.

  "I wouldn't mind kissing you again," said Donovan.

  "Sometime."

  Louise turned and looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

  "Where did that come from?" she asked.

  Donovan shrugged.

  "I just wanted you to know, that's all. Things are a bit crazy just now, but in a few days everything will be sorted. Maybe then .. ."

  "Maybe then what?"

  "Bloody hell, Louise. Don't make me beg. I'm only asking for a date."

  Louise laughed.

  "We'll see."

  "I'm serious."

  "So am I," said Louise. She looked at him in silence, and then shook her head.

  "What?" asked Donovan.

  "I don't know. I just wish we'd met under different circumstances. That I wasn't a dancer. That you weren't doing what you're doing. That we'd just met in a normal way. In a supermarket or in a pub."

  "We met, and that's all that matters."

  Louise looked as if she wanted to say something else but then she turned away and went over to stand behind Robbie. Donovan could see that something was troubling her, but he didn't want to press her. She'd tell him eventually.

  After Robbie had tired of playing video games they ate Chinese food in Chinatown and went home to spend the evening watching TV. Louise and Donovan drank a bottle of wine together. Donovan slept on the sofa, and this time there was no goodnight kiss from Louise.

  Donovan walked into Tina's sitting room, his hair still wet from the shower. Tina was in the kitchenette, frying sausages.

  "Good morning," she said.

  "You want breakfast?"

  "Just coffee," said Donovan.

  Robbie was on the sofa in his pyjamas, watching cartoons.

  "Hey, just because you're not going to school doesn't mean you can lie around half-naked all day."

  "I'm not half naked," said Robbie.

  "Get dressed. Now."

  Robbie scowled and went off to the bedroom.

  Tina handed Donovan a mug of coffee.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  "Sure. Why?"

  "You keep frowning."

  "Yeah? Sorry." He drank his coffee.

  "I've got a busy day, that's all."

  The landline rang and Tina answered it. She listened and frowned, then handed the phone to Donovan.

  "It's for you," she said.

  "No one knows I'm here," said Donovan.

  "It's a man. He asked for you."

  Donovan took the phone.

  "Who is it?" he snapped.

  "That's no way to talk to an old friend," said a voice.

  "Who are you?"

  "It's Hathaway, Donovan."

  "How did you get this number?"

  Hathaway chuckled.

  "That's for me to know, Donovan. We need to meet."

  "I'm busy."

  "I know you're busy, Donovan. That's what we need to talk about. You've got the money back from Sharkey, right? Now I've got more information for you. Information that you're going to want."

  Donovan looked at his watch. It was nine o'clock. Heliad to be at the airfield at four o'clock in the afternoon, and it was a two-hour drive from London. He had time.

  "You know Blom-field Road? Little Venice?"

  "I know it, but since when have you been setting the venues?"

  "I'm not going to Camden again. Little Venice is quiet, there are plenty of ways in and out, not too many people."

  "Donovan, if I wanted to take you down, I'd have people outside your door right now. I just want to talk. The information I gave you last time was solid gold. What I have for you today is even better."

  "There's a bridge over the canal, opposite a pub called the Paddington Stop. I'll see you there in four hours. One o'clock. I can't get there any earlier, I've got things to do."

  "One o'clock is fine." The line went dead.

  Donovan finished his coffee and went into the kitchenette.

  "I'm going to have to go out."

  "When will you be back?" asked Tina.

  "I'm not sure. Late."

  "How late?" pressed Tina.

  "God, I don't know. Have I got a curfew now?"

  "Don't go, Den. Please." Donovan smiled.

  "I have to."

  She put the frying pan by the sink.

  "You're up to something, aren't you? You're working. I know you are."

  Donovan reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

  "Best you don't know," he said.

  "Is that how you treated Vicky? Kept her at a distance? Pushed her away?"

  Donovan frowned.

  "Wha
t's brought this on?" Tina hugged him and put her head against his chest.

  "Just stay here. Let someone else take the risk, Den. Let's take Robbie out. Go somewhere. Have a day out."

  Donovan put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

  "What do you think's going on, Louise?" he asked.

  She shrugged his hands away.

  "I've heard you on the bloody phones, Den. I know what you're doing. You're bringing gear in and today's the bloody day."

  "Have you been spying on me?"

  "Don't be stupid, Den. This is a small flat and your phones have been ringing red hot for the last twenty-four hours."

  "I have to go."

  Tina shook her head.

  "No you don't. You don't have to go. You can walk away. Walk away from it all."

  "We'll talk about it later," he said. Tears welled up in Tina's eyes.

  "Louise, I'm sorry, I have to go."

  "Damn you, Donovan!"

  Donovan took a step back from her, genuinely surprised at the intensity of her reaction.

  "I don't have time for this now, Louise. We'll talk about it later."

  "And what if there isn't a later, Den?"

  Donovan pressed a finger against her lips, then he leaned over, kissed her on the forehead, and hurried from the flat. Tina rushed after him but he closed the door without looking back.

  She leaned against the door, her eyes filled with tears. She'd wanted to say more, but she couldn't. She couldn't tell him, because the truth was that she was betraying him. She was helping to set him up.

  She wiped her eyes and sniffed. And who was the man who'd phoned? Donovan always made and received calls on his mobiles, he never used her phone. There had been something vaguely familiar about the man's voice, but for the life of her Tina couldn't place it. Whoever it was, he'd unnerved Donovan.

  Robbie came out of the bedroom. He stopped in the hallway when he saw Tina was crying.

  "What's wrong?"

  Tina shook her head.