by SL Beaumont
When he reached the corner of the house, Adam sprinted across the driveway to the first vehicle. He crouched with his back to the fence and listened. Like clockwork, the next patrol completed his circuit of the house, and Adam moved again on silent feet to the second vehicle. Peering around the front of it, he could see the long building, now less than two hundred metres away. One of the roller doors was up, and two men were standing in the opening, semi-automatics cradled in their arms, their eyes scanning the driveway.
Adam counted the seconds to the next security pass and was about to move from the truck to a large tree on the fence line when he heard a low growl behind him. He let out a breath and put a hand on the stolen Glock as he turned, coming face to face with a snarling Doberman.
“Hey there, boy,” he whispered, avoiding eye contact with the dog as he extracted Kat’s scarf from his pocket with his other hand. The dog continued to growl as Adam wrapped his scarf around his arm. He held it out, waiting for the dog’s jaw to latch on. The dog stopped growling and instead sniffed at Adam’s outstretched arm. Adam watched amazed as its tail started wagging, and it dropped down onto its belly and started head-butting Adam’s hand. Adam took this as a good sign and scratched behind the dog’s ears. A second Doberman appeared, and after sniffing Adam’s arm, flopped down beside its mate.
“Anything?”
The voice startled Adam. It was Don, and he was close.
“No, sir.”
“He’s here somewhere, keep patrolling.”
Footsteps retreated from his position.
“Where are the dogs?” Don asked.
“Monty, Rupert,” Huntly-Tait called.
The two Doberman jumped to their feet and giving Adam a farewell glance, bounded away towards their master’s voice.
Adam shoved Kat’s scarf back in his pocket, silently thanking her, and waited for the next security pass. He once again snuck a look towards the entrance to the building at the back of the property. A small group of people were moving towards the house. He recognised Don and William Huntly-Tait amongst them.
“Load up and hose down. Leaving in ten,” Don instructed.
Adam bolted for a large tree at the edge of the yard. He hunkered down just as a woman peeled off from the group and headed straight towards the vehicle he’d been hiding behind. He watched as she climbed in, started the engine and drove to the building’s open doorway, turning the truck and reversing it into the space. He let out a shaky breath; that was close.
Adam crept along the tree line, keeping low behind the trees and shrubs until he came level with the far corner of the building. There was an open area to cross where he’d be exposed to both the security lights on the building and the night vision of the patrolling guards.
What he needed was a distraction. He crouched and felt around on the ground beneath him, selecting several large stones and weighing them in his hand in the darkness. Stepping out from behind the tree concealing him, he aimed and threw the stone across the driveway to a small car parked on the far side. The windscreen shattered, and an alarm went off, followed by the sound of shouts and running footsteps. Adam dashed across the open area and flattened himself against the end wall for a moment before he hurried around to the back of the building and crept up an external stairway. The door at the top swung open as Adam reached it, and a man stepped out, lighting a cigarette.
Adam brought the handle of the Glock down on the man’s temple. His knees buckled, and he slumped unconscious against Adam, the unlit cigarette still clamped between his lips. His cap fell off as Adam eased him to the ground and lifted his semi-automatic rifle from around his torso. Adam searched the man’s pockets, taking a cigarette lighter and a pocket knife, but couldn’t find a phone. Who doesn’t carry a mobile phone? he thought, annoyed. Adam picked up the cap and slipped it on his head, tilting the peak to obscure his features. He stepped over the unconscious figure and peered into the building.
He crept onto a metal mezzanine walkway and looked over the edge onto a production line with crates, such as those they’d seen removed from the airplane, stacked at one end. To one side, a man was packing scientific equipment from a table into a box: a microscope, beakers, tubes, and scales.
As Adam watched, another man, wearing a breathing mask and gloves, was scooping powder from an open crate into a clear plastic bag. The man weighed it, adjusted the contents, and placed the bag on a conveyer belt. Further along, a second man lifted a bag and sealed it using a heat-sealing machine before putting it back onto the conveyor. A third person added a label and packed it into a cardboard box. A small box containing at least fifty packets was sealed with tape. A heavyset man was loading the sealed boxes into a ubiquitous white van, reversed into the loading bay.
Two men armed with semi-automatic rifles wandered up and down behind the workers. Adam noticed that they had earpieces. It wouldn’t be long before they tried to check in with their colleague that he’d just disarmed, so he needed to move fast. The catwalk where he was standing wrapped around two sides of the shed, with stairs at the far end leading down onto the factory floor. There appeared to be two rooms on the long side of the mezzanine. Adam could see through the window into each that they were empty apart from desks and chairs. There was nothing for it but to make his way to the far end. He turned and slid the bolt across the door to stop anyone entering from that direction surprising him. He tilted the cap forward and started walking around the mezzanine towards the stairs.
The woman whom Adam had seen earlier in the foyer approached the start of the production line.
“Pack up now; we’re leaving,” she announced. “Wash down the room, leave the conveyer, but everything else needs to go in one of the vehicles.”
The workers nodded. Another man appeared with a bag trolley and heaved two unopened crates onto it. He wheeled them past the van to a small truck whose flat deck was just visible in front.
A plan took shape in Adam’s mind. Hopefully, by now Kat had managed to make that call, and help would be on its way. What he needed to do was delay the departure of the people and the product. He slipped into the first office and closed the door, scanning the room. The desk had a few sheets of paper on it. Adam grabbed a waste paper basket, stuffed the documents into it, along with a calendar and a large map pinned to the wall and flicked the lighter that he’d liberated from the guard.
The paper caught and started to burn. Adam upended the basket onto the fabric seat of the chair and watched it begin to smoulder. He pushed the chair back under the desk and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind him. Adam repeated the process in the next office, setting fire to whatever paper he could find and then headed towards the stairs. He forced himself not to run, but halfway down, he glanced back. Smoke billowed under the door of the first office.
“Hey, what are you doing? Get over here and help load the truck,” demanded one of the men on the factory floor.
Adam reached the bottom step as the glass in the window of the first office exploded outward.
“Fire,” he shouted and started running towards the exit as pandemonium ensued.
Chapter 34
“What are you doing here, Gabe?” Kat said.
“You first,” Gabe replied, disconnecting Kat’s phone call. His usually tidy brown hair was ruffled, and a neat, clipped beard covering his jaw was a recent addition. He was wearing dress pants, a sweater, and a navy blue car coat.
“Please give me the phone?” Kat grabbed for it, but Gabe held it out of her reach.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Kat glared at him. “Where should I start? Perhaps with your father’s people holding me against my will in a room upstairs?”
“No way.”
Kat looked incredulous. “Do you even know what’s going on here, Gabe?” Gabe didn’t answer her. “Oh,” Kat said after a moment of silence. “You’re involved. I didn’t see that coming.” She dropped down onto the sofa.
“Involved? In what
?”
Kat studied his face for a moment, uncertain whether his innocence was an act or whether he genuinely had no idea what was happening in his father’s house. It was possible, she thought. He never used to come down to the country that much, preferring the excitement of London.
“Nothing legal,” she said. Gabe’s head dropped, and he sat down beside her. “So you do know something,” Kat said.
“My father is always involved in some scheme or other, although he does seem to have gathered some fairly tough people around him in recent times. Kat, I have as little to do with him as possible outside of work, even inside work.” His shoulders sagged, and he looked sad and defeated.
“Well, what are you doing here then?”
Gabe looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “I was following you.”
“What?”
“I saw a news report online that two women were attacked in their home in St. Albans and after warning you and knowing that’s where Carl and Sara lived, I called her. When she confirmed what had happened, I went straight to your flat and saw you leaving with that guy. He’s a cop, right?”
Kat nodded.
“I lost you after you left the Surrey Flats Aerodrome. So, I’ve been driving around a bit and decided to come here to use the bathroom before I headed back to London. I didn’t know anyone was here, apart from the housekeeper, you have to believe me.”
Footsteps sounded in the foyer, getting louder as they approached the front room.
“You can’t let them find me here, Gabe,” Kat said, springing to her feet.
Gabe hesitated, then jumped up and led her to the wall beside the fireplace.
“Quick, through here,” he said, pressing a spot on the wall beside a large framed painting by Constable. A hidden door popped open in the wall. Gabe pulled it open, and Kat slipped through, leaving Gabe to close it behind her. He scooped up the discarded telephone handset from the sofa and replaced it in its cradle when his father entered the room.
“Ah, I wasn’t expecting you tonight, Gabe,” he said, looking startled and uncomfortable.
“Father, you’re home,” Gabe said, trying to sound surprised. “I dropped in to use the bathroom, and the front door was unlocked, but I didn’t see your car out front.”
“What are you doing down here?”
“I had lunch with an old friend in Cobham. I didn’t realise you were coming down for the weekend,” Gabe replied.
His father gave him a calculating look.
Footsteps sounded, and Don appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe and looked Gabe up and down. “Who’s this?”
“This is my son Gabe,” Huntly-Tait said.
“And what is he doing here?”
“I stopped to use the bathroom,” Gabe said, stepping forward and returning Don’s appraising stare. “And you are?” He inserted a proprietary note into his voice.
Don straightened, and a flicker of annoyance crossed his features.
“Don’t let me hold you up,” Don said, stepping aside and sweeping his hand towards the foyer.
Gabe glanced at his father, who gave a slight flick of his head.
“Okay, then.” Gabe obliged, passing through the doorway and heading for the main staircase. “See you at work on Monday, Father,” he called.
“Where are you going?” Don asked.
Gabe turned with one hand on the bannister and one foot on the bottom tread. “To use my bathroom.” He held Don’s gaze for a moment before continuing up the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the fear that crept into his bones.
Behind him, he heard Don ask, “What’s he doing here?”
“Just what he says, I believe,” Huntly-Tait said. “He had lunch with a friend and stopped in to use the bathroom.”
“Mmm…” Don sounded unconvinced. “The trucks will leave through the forest track shortly, so make sure he doesn’t go out the back. Does his bathroom overlook the yard?”
Huntly-Tait shook his head.
“Good. Now let’s keep moving. Any sign of Jackson or the girl?”
“No.”
***
Kat looked around. She was in a darkened dining room with the shutters closed over the windows at one end. The door leading to the main foyer was ajar, and a shaft of light cut across the threshold. Kat recalled that there was a butler’s pantry adjoining the dining room. She started towards it when she heard heavy footsteps striding across the foyer. She ducked down behind a tall chair at the head of the massive twelve-seater dining table, but the steps continued past, and she heard Don’s voice join those of Gabe and his father in the front room.
She crept across the rest of the room and cracked open the door to the butler’s pantry. It was a long galley style room with benches either side and a sink in the centre of the far counter. This room was also in darkness, and she hurried to a closed door at the far end, listening intently before opening it. As she had hoped, it opened onto the stairwell that she and Adam had come down earlier. Without hesitating, she ran up the stairs to the second floor and crept out onto the landing, turning right and side-stepping with her back to the wall until she reached Gabe’s bedroom. Kat slipped inside and looked around. In the gloom, it looked just as she remembered it. She picked up a framed photo from the top of a chest of drawers and took it to the window, where the light from the moon gave some illumination. The photo was of her, Gabe, Felicity, and a guy whose name she couldn’t recall, smiling and laughing at an outdoor concert.
“They were good times.”
Kat dropped the photo and spun around to see Gabe standing in the doorway. He switched on the light and pushed the door over.
“Gabe, you nearly gave me heart failure.”
“I didn’t mean to,” he said, walking over and picking up the photo from where it had fallen. “I miss her laughter.”
“Me too.”
“I’m so sorry, Kat. I should never have been driving that night.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said.
Gabe cocked his head and looked at her. “What do you mean? You’ve always blamed me for her death and your injury.” He glanced at her prosthesis.
“I’ve remembered things,” she said. “From that night.”
“Such as?”
“We were run off the road. You didn’t crash. They dragged you away and left Felicity and me there to die.”
Gabe gasped and put his hands to his mouth. He sat down on the edge of the king-sized bed and looked up at her. “I wanted to tell you, but my father insisted that I must have hit my head and not remembered correctly and that the men who pulled me from the car just happened to be passing. He said they helped you and Felicity too, but it was too late.”
“Well, they didn’t. I’ve remembered other things too. That night, I saw something I shouldn’t have in your father’s study. I was running away, and they followed us.”
“What did you see?” Gabe whispered.
“Give me your phone,” Kat said, crossing the room to stand in front of him.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on. Who’s that scary guy with my father, and where’s your cop?”
“Let me make a phone call first, and then I’ll explain what I can,” she said.
Gabe sighed and retrieved his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.
Kat keyed in the number that Adam had given her. It connected straightaway.
“It’s Kat.”
“Are you safe?”
Kat eyed Gabe. “For now. We’re at South Hill Manor outside of Cobham. We need help. I don’t know where Adam is, but I think they’re transporting drugs through here. An army officer by the name of Donald Webster seems to be in charge, although William Huntly-Tait is here.”
“You’ve done great, Kat. A tactical team is ten minutes out.”
“The people here are heavily armed, like semi-automatic type weapons, and there are at least eight of them. I don’t know if they’ve got Adam or not.”
Kat could hear her information being relayed. The phone beeped in her ear, she pulled it away and looked at the screen. The low battery icon illuminated.
“Have you got a charger?” she asked Gabe.
Gabe looked stunned. “In the car.”
Kat cursed and put the phone back to her ear.
“Hello?” she said.
“Kat?” the voice on the other end answered.
“This phone is about to die unless I can find a charger.”
“Okay, stay hidden, and we’ll be there soon.”
Kat handed Gabe back the phone with a frown on her face.
“Why don’t you go back to your car, leave and call the last number I was just talking to.”
The door swung open, hitting the wall with a crash.
“There she is,” Don said, his massive physique loomed in the doorway. “Where is he?”
“Who?” Kat asked.
Don cocked his head to one side. “My patience is running thin, Kat. You’ve caused enough trouble tonight. Where’s Adam?”
“No idea,” she said. “I wonder what my brother would think about his old mate smuggling drugs out of Afghanistan and selling them on the streets of England? He must be turning in his grave.”
“Drugs, Dad?” Gabe said, rising to his feet, and looking from Kat to his father, who stood behind Don in the doorway. Don stepped further into the bedroom.
