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Remote Control ns-1 Page 35

by Andy McNab


  Once this was all over I would have to set up a different named account and move the money, and I'd stop being Stevenson. A pain in the ass to organize, but I could live with that for $426,072.

  The cab ride to Trafalgar Square became a tour given by me to Kelly. I was more into it than she was, and I could tell by the taxi driver's expression in his rearview mirror that I was getting most of the details wrong.

  We were going down the Strand when I spotted clothes stores on both sides of the road. We paid off the taxi and shopped for jeans, T-shirts, and a washing kit. Once that was done, we took another cab to Brown's Hotel.

  I said to Kelly, "You'll like this place. It's got two entrances, so you can enter from Dover Street and come out the other side, on Albermarle Street. Very important for spies like us."

  I switched on the phone, got hold of information, and called the hotel to make a reservation. Less than half an hour later we were in our room, but only after discovering that the Dover Street exit was no longer open. Finger on the pulse.

  The room was a world removed from the ones we had been used to. It was plush, comfortable, and, best of all, had a minibar with Toblerones. I could have killed for a beer, but not yet; there was work to do.

  Jet lag was starting to kick in. Kelly looked exhausted. She flopped onto the bed and I helped undress her, then threw her between the sheets.

  "You can take a bath tomorrow," I said.

  She was a starfish in about two minutes flat.

  I checked that the phone had a good signal and that the charger was working. Euan knew my voice, so the "It's John the plumber, when do you want me to come and fix that tap?

  Give me a ring on..." would have done the trick.

  I decided to have a quick nap for ten minutes, maybe shower, have something to eat, then go to bed. After all, it was only 5 p.m.

  At a quarter to six in the morning, the phone rang. I pressed Receive. I heard "Hello?" in that very low, very controlled voice I knew so well.

  "I need a hand, mate," I said. I didn't want to give him time to talk.

  "I need you to help me. Can you get to London?"

  "When do you want me?"

  "Now."

  "I'm in Wales. It'll take a bit of time."

  "I'll wait out on this number."

  "No problem. I'll get a train; it'll be quicker."

  "Thanks, mate. Give me a call about an hour before you get into Paddington."

  "Yep. OK."

  The phone went dead.

  I had never felt so relieved. It was like putting the phone down after a doctor's just told you the cancer test was negative.

  The train journey alone would take more than three hours, so there wasn't much to do apart from enjoy the lull in the battle. Kelly awoke as I caught up with some international news in the copy of the Times that had been slipped under the door--no walk to the street corner with a couple of quarters at Brown's Hotel. I phoned room service and tried out the hotel TV channels. No Power Rangers. Great.

  Lazily, we both eventually got up, showered, changed, and were looking good. We took a leisurely stroll through Piccadilly Circus and Leicester Square. I delivered another tour lecture that Kelly didn't listen to. I kept on looking at my watch, waiting for Euan to call. While Kelly was being overrun by pigeons having a feeding frenzy in Trafalgar Square, the phone rang. It was 9:50 a.m. I put my finger in my other ear to block out the traffic and the screams of delight from Kelly and the other kids as birds tried to peck their eyes out.

  "I'm an hour from Paddington."

  "That's great. I'll meet you at Platform Three, Charing Cross station, OK, mate?"

  "See you there."

  The Charing Cross hotel was part of the station complex, just two minutes' walk from Trafalgar Square. I'd picked it because I knew that from the foyer you could see the taxis pull into the station and drop off their fares.

  We waited and watched. The place was full of package-tour Americans and Italians. The Americans were at the tour-guide desk, reserving every show in town, and the Italians just moved from the elevator to the exit door in one loud, arm-waving mob, shouting at each other and all trying to get through the glass doors at the same time.

  It was about half an hour later when I saw a cab with a familiar figure in the back. I pointed him out to Kelly.

  "Aren't we going to go and meet him?"

  "No, we're going to stay here and look, because we're going to surprise him. Just like we did with Frankie in Daytona, remember?"

  "Oh, yes. We have to stand off."

  I watched him get out. It was so wonderful to see him that I wanted to jump up and run outside. He was dressed in jeans and wearing the kind of shoes you see advertised in a Sunday supplement. Hush Puppies were positively cutting-edge fashion compared to these. He was also wearing a black nylon bomber jacket, so he'd be easy enough to pick out in the station. I said to Kelly, "We'll give him a couple of minutes, then we'll go and surprise him, shall we?"

  "Yeah!" She sounded quite excited. She had two lumps of bird shit on the back of her coat. I was waiting for them to dry before picking them off.

  I waited for five minutes, watching his back for him. Then we walked toward the station and through a couple of arches to the ticket offices. We looked for Platform 3 and there he was, leaning against the wall, reading a paper. The same feeling: I wanted to run over there and hug him. We walked slowly.

  He looked up and saw me. We both smiled and said, "Hi, how's it going!" He looked at me, then at Kelly, but he didn't say anything; he knew that I'd tell him at some stage. We went off to the side of the station to steps that led down toward the river. As we walked he looked at my head and tried to hide a grin.

  "Good haircut!"

  Outside Embankment station we got into a taxi. Drills are drills--they're there for a reason, and that is to protect you:

  the moment you start falling down on drills, you start fucking up. We took the driver on a roundabout route, covering our tracks, taking twenty minutes to Brown's instead of the straight-line ten. As soon as we got back to the room I turned the TV on for Kelly and phoned room service. Everyone was hungry.

  Euan was already chatting away with Kelly. She looked pleased to have somebody else to talk to, even if it was only another grown-up and a man. That was good--they were getting a relationship going; she was feeling comfortable with him.

  The food came; there was a hamburger and fries for Kelly, and two club sandwiches for us. I said to Kelly, "We'll let you eat in peace. We're going into the bathroom because you're watching TV, and I want to talk to Euan about some stuff. Is that all right?"

  She nodded, mouth already full.

  Euan smiled.

  "See you in a minute, Kelly. Save us some fries." We went into the bathroom with our coffees and sandwiches the noise of the TV dying the moment I closed the door.

  I started to tell him the story. Euan listened intently. He was visibly upset about Kev and Marsha. I'd got as far as the lift by Luther and Co. when he cut in. By now he was sitting on the edge of the bath.

  "Bastards! Who were they? Do you think it was the same group that zapped Kev?"

  "Must be." I sat next to him.

  "Kev knew the three who killed him. Kelly confirmed that Luther worked with Kev.

  Then there's the question of that phone call to 'get the ball rolling."

  " "You reckon it was Luther?"

  I nodded.

  "Who the fuck knows where he fits into the picture, but my guess is he's DEA, and also corrupt. It looks like some of the DEA are bent and working for drug money." I told him about the McGear killing and what I had found on the backup disk once de Sabatino had loaded the GIFs.

  Euan understood so far.

  "So it all has to do with PIRA running drugs into Europe? To keep the route open it needs bribes, blackmail, and threats. But what about McGear--did he say anything?"

  "Not a word. He knew he was going to die anyway."

  "This guy de Sabatino? Does he
have any copies of the intelligence?"

  I laughed.

  "You know I'm not going to tell you that.

  OP SEC mate, OP SEC

  "Fair one." He shrugged.

  "Just being nosy."

  I explained what I had found in Kev's house. Euan didn't speak. He just sat there, letting it all soak in. I felt exhausted, as if by somehow passing on the baton to Euan everything that had happened in the last ten days could now catch up with me and take its toll.

  I looked at him. He seemed pretty drained himself.

  "I can see only one thing wrong with what you're saying."

  "What's that, mate?"

  "Wouldn't the Colombians have anticipated that a bomb would heighten security in Gibraltar, making it harder to get the drugs in?"

  "It was a warning. They were sending it out to anyone who might not want to keep business going. I tell you, mate, this is far too big for me to be messing around with. I just want to get it to Simmonds and wash my hands of it."

  "I'll help any way I can." He opened a pack of Benson & Hedges; he'd obviously taken up smoking again. I stood up, out of the way.

  "I don't want to get you directly involved. Kev, Pat, me, we've all been fucked over but I'm going to need you to back me if things go wrong."

  "You just have to name it."

  I could smell the sulfur from his match. He smiled as I started to wave the smoke from my face. He knew I hated that. Even under extreme pressure some things never changed.

  I said, "Tomorrow afternoon, you should receive copies of the files by FedEx. If anything happens to me or Simmonds, it's basically down to you." By now we were in a cloud of smoke. The alarm was going to go off any minute.

  "No problems with that, mate," he said in his very slow, very calm, very calculating way. If you told Euan he'd won the lottery he'd say, "That's nice," then go back to stacking his coins or folding his socks.

  "How many copies of the disk are there besides the ones you're sending me?"

  "I'm not going to tell you, mate. Need-to-know!"

  He smiled. He knew I was protecting him.

  "One more thing," I said.

  "I don't want to take Kelly with me to the Simmonds meet. He wasn't too pleased with me the last time we spoke. If this turns into a gang fuck, I don't want her caught in the crossfire. You're the only person I can trust her with. It's going to be for only one night, maybe two. Can you do that for me?"

  I expected an immediate answer and I got one.

  "No problem." He smiled. He knew I'd let him talk freely with Kelly so they'd get to know each other.

  "Will you take her back to Brecon?"

  "Yeah. Have you told her I live in Wales?"

  "I've told her you live in a sheep pen."

  He threw the butt into the toilet because he knew I hated that smell, too.

  I put both my hands on his shoulders.

  "This has been a fucking shit week, mate."

  "Don't worry about it. Let's just go back in the room and finish the coffee. Then you just go and sort your shit out with Simmonds and get it over and done with."

  "How was the burger?"

  "Fine. I saved Euan some fries."

  I sat on the bed next to her.

  "Listen, Kelly, me and Euan have been talking, and because I've got to do some stuff in London, we reckon it's a good idea if you go to the countryside with him and stay at his house. It's only for one night; I'll be back tomorrow. What do you think? Hey, you can even see the floor we laid--remember I talked about it?"

  She suspected she wasn't being offered any option, and her face said so.

  I said, "I won't be long, and Euan's house has sheep all around it."

  She looked down at her fingers and mumbled, "I want to stay with you."

  I said with mock surprise, "What, don't you want to go?

  You'll see all the sheep!"

  She was embarrassed. She was too polite to say no in front of Euan.

  I said, "It won't be for long." Then, like a bastard, I closed the trap.

  "You like Euan, don't you?"

  She nodded, never losing eye contact with me in case she made it with Euan.

  "It's just going to be for one night. I'll be calling you anyway; I'll be able to talk to you."

  She looked very unhappy about it. After all, I'd promised not to leave her again. I caught sight of my mobile and had an idea.

  "How about I give you my mobile phone. I'll show you how to use it." I started playing with the buttons.

  "Here you are, you have a go. If I show you how to use it, you can put that under your pillow tonight, all right?"

  I looked up at Euan, trying to bring him in.

  "Because she'll have her own bedroom, won't she?"

  "That's right. She'll have her own bedroom, the one that overlooks the sheep pen."

  I said, "And I believe there's a TV in her bedroom, isn't there?"

  "Yes, there's a TV in there." He nodded and agreed, wondering where he was going to get one from.

  There was an acceptance; she wasn't wild about it, but that was good enough. I switched on the phone, tapped in my PIN number, and handed it over.

  "Just plug the charger into the wall when you get there and it'll work,

  OK?"

  "OK."

  "Then put it underneath your pillow so when it rings you'll be sure to hear it. All right?"

  "Whatever." By now she understood that she definitely had no choice.

  Euan said, "I'll tell you what. We'd better get your teddies organized if we're going to the country. What are their names? Have they ever been on a train before?"

  She warmed to him. We went downstairs and got into a taxi to Paddington station. We bought Kelly ice cream, candy, soda, anything to keep her mind off what was happening. She was still deciding what comic to buy as Euan looked at his watch and said, "Wheels turning soon, mate."

  I went with them along the platform and gave her a big hug at the door of the train car.

  "I'll call you tonight, Kelly. I promise."

  As she climbed up. Jenny and Ricky were looking at me from the Virgin Atlantic day sack on her back.

  "OK."

  The guard was walking the length of the train, closing the doors. Euan lowered the window so Kelly could wave.

  "Nick?" She leaned toward me through the open window and beckoned as if she wanted to whisper something.

  "What?" I put my face near hers.

  "This." She threw her arms around my neck, squeezed, and planted a big kiss on my cheek. I was so taken aback I just stood there.

  The train started moving.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," Euan called.

  "Don't worry about us. We'll be OK."

  As the train slowly disappeared from the platform, I felt the same wrench as I had at the moment I'd seen Pat's body being loaded into the ambulance. But this time I couldn't figure out why. After all, it was for the best and she was in safe hands. Forcing myself to see it as one more problem out of the way, I headed for the pay phones.

  I got a very businesslike reply from Vauxhall: "Extension please?"

  "Two-six one-two."

  There was a pause, then a voice I recognized at once.

  "Hello, two-six one-two?"

  "It's Stone. I've got what you needed."

  "Nick! Where are you?"

  I put my finger in my ear as a departure was announced.

  "I'm in England." Not that he needed me to say that when he could hear that the Exeter train was leaving in five minutes.

  "Excellent."

  "I'm pretty desperate to see you."

  "Likewise. But I'm tied up here until the early hours." He paused to think.

  "Perhaps we can go for a walk and a talk.

  Let's say three-thirty tomorrow morning?"

  "Where?"

  "I'll walk toward the station. I presume you'll find me."

  "I'll do that."

  I put the phone down with a feeling that at long last the dice w
ere rolling for me. Kelly was safe, Simmonds sounded amenable. With luck I was only hours from sorting out this mess.

  Back at the hotel I rented a car so I could pick up Kelly from Brecon after the meeting, and had something to eat. In my head I ran through exactly what I was going to say to Simmonds, and the way I was going to say it. Without a doubt, I had in my possession precisely the sort of evidence Simmonds had asked for. It was a shame I didn't have the videotape to back up some of it, but, even so, the stuff I had was probably more than he could have hoped for. The worst-case scenario now was that I'd get the slate wiped clean and be let loose. At least I had a few quid to start a new life with.

  I thought about Kelly. What would become other? Where would she go? Would she have been affected by everything she'd seen and all that had happened to her and her family? I tried to cut away from that, telling myself that it would all get sorted out--somehow. Simmonds could help there. Perhaps he could orchestrate the reunion with her grandparents, or at least point me in the direction of the right kind of expert help.

  I tried to get some sleep but failed. At 2 a.m. I retrieved the rental car and headed for Vauxhall Bridge.

  I went a long way around, going all the way down the King's Road to World's End, then turning for the river and heading east again, mainly because I wanted to organize my thoughts one last time, but also because to me, the drive along the deserted Embankment and past all the historic, floodlit bridges offered one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

  This particular night the lights seemed to shine a bit brighter, and the bridges seemed more sharply in focus; I found myself wishing Kelly was there to see it with me.

  I got to Vauxhall Bridge early. I drove east along the road that follows the river toward the next bridge, Lambeth.

  Nothing looked suspicious at the RV point on the drive-by.

  The gas station on the opposite side of the road, about halfway toward Lambeth bridge, had about four cars by the pumps, groups of kids buying fuel and Mars bars, and some early-morning office cleaning vans filling up before their shift.

  Farther along the river, and on the other side, I could see the Houses of Parliament. I smiled to myself. If only the MPs really knew what the intelligence services got up to.

  I did a full circle and headed back on the same road toward Vauxhall for one more drive-by. I still had time to kill, so I stopped at the station and bought a drink and a sandwich.

 

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