MERCURY'S SECRET

by Tobias Roote

  I decided I needed to persuade this team to assist me. It would get me close enough to rescue Alice and perhaps get some closure on the issue of the information chips I had in my possession, well, Mercury’s, but as he was sitting beside me it was ‘as good as’.

  I made a snap decision. If I was wrong I would at best end up dead, at worst incarcerated without access to daylight in a deep and nasty dungeon somewhere unaccountable. If I was right, I might get to the bottom of what was going on and seal the cracks. I had no doubt in my mind that Butler might be one of those cracks, Tobler looked good for it too. I didn’t know who else, but I might if I did some research.

  I nodded to Fletcher indicating he and I needed to talk. He followed me outside and I called Mercury to run a Silent patrol which would keep me posted if any of his team decided to follow us.

  I walked down the path now getting some of the early morning sunshine and indicated to Fletcher to accompany me.

  “Fletcher, have you any idea what it is I am supposed to be running rogue on?” I asked seriously.

  “Actually, no. I have to admit that information has not been transferred down past Tobler, although I suspect Datchett had an idea. He had been hinting at something on the way over in the car. He said that he had heard that it had to do with old secrets that still had power over the living.”

  I considered the statement and decided that was a good summation although I doubt it had been his in the beginning. Probably overheard it from Tobler, or even Butler, I thought.

  “What I am about to tell you might get you killed by all or anyone of at least three sides in this little war. Do you want to know, or will you trust me on this and take your team in blind?”

  He thought about it for a good hundred yards. He was weighing up the ability to carry his team and make the final decisions possibly of kill or be killed, without knowing the why of it. He was considering whether to live a life, if possible never knowing what, or knowing everything and risking all. In the end man's curiosity will always win out. He nodded.

  “I think I need to know what I am getting into. No offence, Old Bean, but its going to be a tough call if we go ahead and I might end up unemployed, or worse, declared rogue.” He gave me a wry smile and added “If I'm going to have a target on my back, I would at least like to know why its there.”

  “Fair enough,” I admitted.

  “This is about two master spies in opposing nations who fell in love twenty five years ago, had a love child, covered it up, subsequently got married having delivered peace in the cold war and kept themselves alive and safe from harm by maintaining an insurance policy of information of both sides involvement in spies and informants.

  As far as I know the information relates to spies and agents in place in both Russia and the UK back in the eighties. I figure that those people might well now be in positions of influence and involved in national security or worse involved in running the country.

  In the event that either side gets their hand on information from the other side, or worse their information gets discovered by a third party, the likelihood of the status quo being unbalanced will be high. It appears that both these Agents managed to convince their respective governments to keep a ‘hands off’ policy with them.

  Much of the information is still valid today and has kept them safe all this time.”

  “So, what has changed?” Fletcher asked. Astute, I thought.

  “What has changed is, an old Politburo member called Dubianko has an independently run espionage operation with a wet team operating which although nowhere near Spetznaz standards is nonetheless lethal and operating in my kill zone. The man running it wants the data and is prepared to kill to get it. As a result the status quo has been upset and both the original agencies in this now want to protect their own data and, if they can, get the other sides information as well.

  I'm now a target of no less than three different clandestine organisations and returning the data to each of the original parties doesn't appear to safeguard anyone from elimination presumably after torture in case copies have been made.

  So far I have been attacked by all parties. There have been fatalities on Dubianko's side and ours, but so far not on the Russians, but only because they played fair to begin with. Only, mind you, because they thought they could get the information by stealth and subterfuge. Once that failed they came after us with more direct methods, but we had gone and left the trail cold.”

  I remained silent for a bit while we negotiated a part of the wood that made me nervous with its twists and turns that were ideal for an ambush. Mercury was forging ahead with tail wagging positively letting me know it was clear.

  Fletcher quietly cleared his throat.

  “What has happened to the two love birds, who I presume are the couple known as John and Abbey? And where do they figure in the scheme of any final solution?” he asked.

  “They warned me, asked me to take care of Alice, who is their daughter. I was given information that should have been exchangeable for safe passage, but then Dubianko upset the apple cart by coming directly after Alice and myself.

  I had to eliminate that team which has served to bring the focus on us when it should have remained on them. They are running interference, but not having any dramatic impact on our long term security. The people running the shows in each country are paranoid and will now try to ensure that everything is put to sleep permanently.

  I have had no contact with them since we had to outrun Dubianko's killers. I am hoping they will contact me when they can. A message has gone out to them, but so far no response. I can only assume they are either dead, or so deeply hidden that they cannot respond.”

  “There is another option you might want to consider.”

  I raised my eyebrow and cocked my ear in expectation of him continuing.

  “You might want to consider they are doing more than running interference, but also tracking the parties concerned waiting for a chance to intervene.”

  I stopped in my tracks as I reconsidered an option I had discounted previously. He turned towards me as he realised I was not continuing along the path.

  “Yes!” I admitted. “That is definitely an option to consider again, I had dropped it, but your point has merit. We will put that on the table.”

  “You say 'we' ,does this mean you want us to help you resolve your dilemma?” he asked a slight smile on his face as he came to a stop facing me.

  “Yes, our mutual friend tells me to trust you, so I am doing just that,” I smiled back.

  “Good, I would like to see your girlfriend safe, she's a ballsy girl! Let's ask the others if they're in or out, and then we can get started.”

  “By the way,” I turned to Fletcher. “How did you know we were here?”

  Fletcher looked surprised at the question. “Tobler got a phone call with your GPS coordinates.”

  “Who was the call from, do you know?”

  “No, it was internal, that's all I can tell you, and it wasn’t from anyone he knew, because he asked the caller to identify themselves, but they cut off,” he looked puzzled as he thought about the call.

  I mulled that over, someone else was involved and I didn’t know who, but they knew about the Safe House, or as I continued to speculate, we were traced by GPS, which meant the possibility of a tracking device somewhere in our kit.

  We turned and heading back to the cottage we started to discuss our ideas and make plans.

  CHAPTER 29

  Two hours later we were on the road. Deep down I realised Alice was probably safe for the moment. Tobler wouldn't act in haste or malice unless I put him in a corner where his life was at stake. I didn't think he would harm her, at least not yet. He hopefully still believed she was an innocent, he just needed her to get me to come to him. I was happy to oblige.

  Fletcher had called Tobler, told him I was a 'no show'. He had been instructed to meet up with them in Marseilles, as I thought, on Alice II, and we were now headed there. The plan was
to get on-board and take out the others non lethally, if possible, rescue Alice and then negotiate a truce with the Section. That would then just leave me with the Russians and Dubianko's people.

  They were expecting five men. We would get there tonight and under the cover of darkness they should be able to get me aboard. As I wore similar kit to the others I should blend in enough to be mistaken for Datchett, although I had misgivings about pushing this new team to become renegade in the presence of their Masters. I would only use that option if I could not see an alternative.

  It felt good to be part of a team again, I had missed my old comrades and the atmosphere inside the SUV as we headed south was good. Several of the men had tried to quiz me over my moniker, but Fletcher told them it was clearly a 'need to know' and they accepted his explanation and gave me no further trouble.

  Before we had left, I had grabbed the laptop and I now sat in the corner of the SUV trying to make sense of the microSD card I had found in the keyring. It was all in Russian and I was making slow progress on understanding it when I came across a reference to my old department, MI12 buried in some very old information.

  I wasn't completely sure, but it appeared to refer to an asset that was put in place, a junior asset they hoped to develop. I thought about that. Twenty five years ago. So, if that asset was still in place they could have gained promotion, or moved into other departments. They could be anywhere. Or, they might still be.

  “Stop the car!” I called out to the driver. Fletcher, who was riding shotgun turned at me surprised at the order. I frowned at him. It was enough, he nodded at the driver who was looking at him while keeping his eye on the traffic they were in.

  We got to a lay-by just ahead and I leaped out the car. I instructed everyone to stay in the vehicle and pulled out my GREY as I moved out of possible earshot. I had the laptop still open on the page I had been checking.

  The phone answered.

  “Charlie, this is too soon. I don’t have the answers yet,” he complained.

  “Forget that. I’m checking out some information I have come across.

  I need you to check the background on all MI12 operatives who came into the section twenty five years ago, around October fifteenth to January the following year. I need to know if anyone stands out, or has risen to senior status and I need the information 'as soon as',” I barked into the phone.

  “You looking for anything in particular, my friend?” I could even sense the grim smile on his face as I had given him a very tall order and he would be hard pressed to hack into personnel records to get the information I needed.

  “A Russian mole, that might well be running the Section.”

  “Shit! I'm on it Charlie, I will check out the most obvious first and work down the list. I will get back to you, by text probably with a name. How is it working with Fletcher?”

  “So far so okay, check him too. I need that name though, Brett.” I finished and hung up.

  Brett would understand the significance of the 'okay'. He would check Fletcher's background first.

  Shit, I thought. This just keeps getting better and better.

  Glancing at the vehicle I could see they were sitting tight although the driver was watching me through the rear-view and Fletcher had adjusted the electric wing mirror to keep me in view. They would be wondering, but I had no explanation I could give.

  I got back into the SUV and nodding at Fletcher who was looking grimly at me, and we continued our trek to Marseilles. I resumed my efforts to translate the files on the laptop. Some of it was additionally coded with access passwords. I wasn't going to try any of that, I would leave that to Brett later, if there was a later.

  I decided to get some shut-eye and leaned back leaving my brain to work on the problem. I was still concerned not to have heard from Abbey. Had Androv really given her my number? Why hadn't she rung yet? We were running out of time and space and I really needed to take out some of the enemy. Taking out Dubianko might restore the balance and give us some breathing space. If the Russians were chasing the information because they were threatened by Dubianko getting it, then perhaps if I could neutralise him, they might drop off the radar too.

  Too many possibilities, and way too many players for a working solution to present itself. I hadn’t even got a working plan yet beyond getting Alice back.

  We were an hour out of Marseilles when my phone vibrated. It was a text from Brett, but not the one I was expecting.

  'TRAP SPRUNG. TRACKING DUB'S PEOPLE NOW. RUSSIANS, NO-SHOW.'

  The phones I had activated from the team on the boat and the Russian operatives in Marseilles had been carrying out joint conversations compliments of Brett's software and as I suspected the GPS locators in the phones were being monitored.

  When the signals and conversations were picked up by Dubianko's teams they had assumed that I was using their phones and had attempted to intercept me at the location of the signal, the aggregate quarry near Frankfurt. They would have just found the phones, or not even found them as they were placed in locations that might represent hidden agents.

  Now they themselves were being tracked through some nifty software that Brett had designed, part of his ‘GREY network’, which hopefully would provide intel that might get me closer to Dubianko so I could deal with him. He was my biggest concern at present. The Russians and British all had agendas and would work through them in a known way. Dubianko was different, the wild card. As such he needed careful handling until we got an edge.

  Finally some hours later, we entered Marseilles city limits. Fletcher phoned Tobler to gave him an update on ETA. He got instructions to drop the SUV at a warehouse on the quay near the mooring where the other team had left theirs.

  There was one man guarding the vehicle and another apparently on the deck watching for Charlie. He was to leave his men on the quay and relieve the guard on the vehicles. Fletcher was supposed to go and join Tobler in the cabin while they awaited my contact.

  “He sounds a bit twitchy.” Fletcher turned to me. “I think he expected you to contact him before now and is worried because you didn't come back to the cottage.”

  I nodded. The longer Tobler twitched, the less certain of himself he would become. I needed him off balance, especially if he was reporting to Butler.

  “I'm presuming you are required to report to him personally, in which case it would be best if I go in with you and catch him unawares. I could easily pass for one of your men and it would give us the best chance of disarming the situation without resorting to killing anyone.”

  Fletcher turned back again and gave me a calculated look. He was wondering what my intentions were and if he had to shoot me or Tobler, which one he would choose. I didn't envy him that. His career was about to go down the tubes and worse he could be declared rogue and an STK put out on him and his team.

  “Or, if you think that's a problem you can drop me off outside the Marina and I will proceed alone from there.” I gave him the get out for both him and his team. He would understand the unspoken inference that if he chose that option and he or his team got in my way I may have no choice, but to kill them.

  He looked at his men, unspoken decisions passed between them. They all had a stake in this as it would be their careers on the line. Fletcher sighed as he came to his decision.

  “I'm sorry Dan, I can't risk it looking that obvious. You will need to get on-board and into position on your own. We will all ignore your incursion and it is for you to deal with Tobler directly. I can't involve my men in an act of treason however just the cause may appear. We will do what we can to help minimise any casualties and we will also protect your girl .”

  He checked the faces of his men looking for affirmation of his decision. They all showed positive responses. I had expected as much. Fletcher was a good leader, he would lead his men down a dangerous path, but would not open the gate on possible actions that had serious consequences for all of them without due cause.

  Currently, they were unaware of the
information I carried, or the possible mole in the department and I couldn't at this stage provide them with proof, or identity. It would have to do.

  I nodded. “That's fine, if I can avoid taking the shot I will, but Tobler is mine and so is anyone that has harmed the girl in any way.”

  “That's fair enough!“ Fletcher approved, and I could see the relief showing in the body language of the men around me. They had all been considering the risk in siding with a 'rogue operative' and what it might mean. None of them wanted to shoot someone on their own team, or face their bosses with the possible consequences of being declared rogue even if they had agreed at the cottage to aid me.

  In my view they were doing just that. I was happy they had thought it through and had realised the consequences. It made my job a lot harder, but I knew they wouldn’t take me down if I breached their defence of the boat.

  We arrived at the traffic junction where the entrance to the Marina could be seen a hundred yards down the left hand street. I pulled the handle of the door and went to step out. I felt a pat against my arm, the soldier sitting next to me had his hand outstretched thumb upwards. Smiling, I took it and felt the strength of his clenched handshake. “Good luck, Whisperer!” he said.

  The others echoed him and I stepped out into shadow as the vehicle indicated left, the flasher reflecting off the pole of the stop sign and penetrating the shadow I was standing in. They drove off towards the marina.

  I couldn't afford to be noticed, so I kept to the shadows and chose a track leading to a boatyard which took me around the marina and away from my objective. With luck all the attention would be on the arrival of Fletcher's team and would remain so for a considerable time. If they had been followed any arrival would likely come from the same direction.

  Fifteen minutes later I could see the boat. It was in darkness and although the gangplank and pontoon it was moored to was lit, the decks were dark and light blinked through the blinds indicating people down below. I also knew with certainty that there would be at least two men on deck, one in the bow and the other aft.