Whatever It Takes

by Andy McNab

  My head was full of so many questions, but one stood out and had been on slow burn for days now. I thought, Why not give it a go? He’s happy.

  ‘Parmesh, may I ask you a question?’ I was mega-polite, not only for Parmesh but for the Templars also. What I was about to ask I didn’t want them to hear second-hand.

  Parmesh leant back into what to me was his invisible chair, making him look like an acrobat with his back almost at 45 degrees on the end of the bed. ‘Shoot, James, shoot.’

  ‘What is in the ledger? What information is so important that you’re going to all this trouble?’

  Parmesh clasped his hands together, as the Templars jumped to the edges of their seats. ‘It is okay, gentlemen, it is okay. I understand your concerns but, please, relax.’ He came back to me. ‘James, it is something that is so important to us – and Eduardo Castro, of course. You see, James, those pages contain the names of important people, people who make things happen. They contain the names of places, where those important people will be at the precise time the CE will need to take action.

  ‘Castro has spent years and a considerable amount of money compiling the information on those pages. He knows how those important people think, and so how to press their buttons. When the time comes, Castro will immediately be in their ears, giving them comfort from their fears … offering them the CE to change the world. But the problem is that the change would be the way Castro and some of those important people want it to be, not how it should be.’

  ‘Okay, I get it.’

  Parmesh gave a very broad smile, something the Templars certainly didn’t.

  ‘These people, James, these important people, they will be needing our help. I must be the one – I must be the first one of the CE to be in their ears … I must be the Pope.’

  Parmesh turned to the Templars and maintained his smile for them, not that they could see it, of course. ‘Gentlemen, James is becoming one of us. We should show him some trust as we bring him into our family.’

  They didn’t look completely onboard with that one. And, for me, the problem with half-answers was that they always led to another full question. ‘But, Parmesh, if it’s so important, why leave the ledger in an empty house? Shouldn’t there be more protection? Why not leave it in a bank or somewhere safer?’

  Parmesh convulsed with laughter as he turned back to me. It eventually subsided to a smile. ‘Because, James, this secret is so important it cannot be guarded conventionally. Banks, guards, high-security fences, all can be defeated, and the more people who know where it is, the more vulnerable it is to theft. The biggest weapon in protecting the ledger, protecting anything of great importance, is concealment. Anything of great value to the world has been treated in the same way. Ancient texts in the walls of churches or in desert caves, religious artefacts hidden in plain sight of their persecutors. Banks are just for tangible commodities that this world has to offer. Not for items of real, true value.’

  Parmesh stopped and stared. He was analysing me. I was uncomfortable – even more than I normally was when he got into cult mode. He turned to the Templars. ‘Gentlemen, I am sure James is entitled to know some of the details – do you not agree?’

  Both of them rose to their feet once more. Egbers wasn’t as progressive with information as the boss. ‘Mr Mani, I agree but I think he knows enough for now … I feel that is as far as the information should go. His team, these Brits he’s bringing over, they must never know.’

  I nodded in agreement. It made sense to me and, besides, the less the team knew, the safer, I hoped, they would be from these two.

  Parmesh slapped his thighs and stood to signal the session was at an end. ‘Okay, then. Onwards and upwards!’

  He swung back to me. ‘James, we will talk real soon, once your guys are with you.’

  33

  For a couple of very long seconds the only sounds coming out of my mobile were of dogs barking and the wind howling. Then things went muffled. She must have brought the mobile up to her face.

  I was straight in. ‘Did you update your WhatsApp?’

  ‘Yes. And I looked up the reason you were so arsy about it.’ Her voice was thick with concern that I knew ran deeper than anything to do with encryption and cyber security. I was so easy for her to read. ‘What’s happening down there, James? This isn’t right, is it? Is the job called off? Do I need to cancel flights?’

  ‘No, no. The job is definitely on. But … I’ve messed up big-time. I think I’ve found a way out, but I’m going to need your help.’

  ‘Way out of what? What are you on about?’

  She shouted at the dogs and I heard the exertion of her chucking a ball for them. She had one of those long holders you pick up the ball with and hurl it. The barking receded.

  ‘Is anyone with you?’

  Her concern turned to annoyance. She never suffered fools like me gladly. ‘No, I’m walking the dogs and it’s raining. Just spit it out.’

  ‘Okay. There are two things. One … I haven’t been working all these years down here.’

  ‘What have you been doing then – lying in the sun?’

  ‘I’ve been stealing.’

  ‘Okaaay.’ She sounded calm, but I knew exactly what was being screened. It was: ‘What? Idiot! Why? Get back home!’ But instead I got ‘So you lied to me. You lied to us all.’

  They weren’t questions, they were statements, and I understood her anger. It was reckoning time. I needed her. I needed some back-up, and she was the only person who could and would do that for me. The whole situation was now so much more than just stealing a book. I’d known that would be the case from the start: there had been way too much shit happening. Two deaths, and now with ‘important people, important places’ added to the mix, it had become much more. I simply didn’t know where this situation was headed, and I had no control of events around me. But Charlotte had my back: she was a strong woman and had never let me down. Maybe it was in her genes, her DNA, whatever. She might never talk to me again after all this was over, but she would not leave me stranded.

  I explained what had been happening these past seven years, and why.

  Payback, pure and simple.

  ‘Someone had to be responsible for the family once Dad had gone.’

  Charlotte breathed a bit heavily into the mobile, trying to keep control of herself. ‘That isn’t being responsible, shit-for-brains. That’s just having shit for brains. What if you’d got caught?’

  ‘Ah … that’s the second thing. I did. That’s why I need your help.’

  And now she lost it. ‘Oh, my God – are you in jail? Is this your lawyer call? Do you need me to come down there? What do I have to do?’

  The real Charlotte had pushed her way past the anger and I was so glad. ‘No. I’m okay. There’s been no police, no arrest. But I was caught last Sunday.’

  I explained what had happened and that I now had to do a job for the man whose guys had caught me. I had to steal something. ‘Just commercial information, that’s all. An accounts book. But it’s important enough to him to pay the team fifteen million each. Think about that.’

  There was a pause as she took stock. With a normal person the pause would probably have been due to shock at the amount of money on offer, then thoughts about how it would change lives, but Charlotte wasn’t like that. ‘I don’t believe it – it’s too much. It’s just words. Why don’t you walk away? What’s the risk? They going to hand you over to the police? If you get back here, that’s not going to happen.’

  I took a breath and formed a set of words in my head. ‘No, it’s worse than that. Much worse. They’ve threatened to hurt Pip and the boys if I don’t get the job done.’

  She lost it again, but this time she was angry. ‘Oh, my God, what have you done? What the fuck have you done?’

  I let her vent for a few seconds and tried to bring her back down. ‘I overextended. I fucked up and got caught. But we are where we are. I need your help, Charlotte.’

  There w
as no answer. I heard what might have been snuffling. She was trying to hold back a tear. I heard the pad of trainers on tarmac and laboured breathing. Then the dogs were close up to her and barking for more ball-throwing.

  ‘Look, all this started because we got ripped off. Dad paid the price. I just wanted to make them pay. That’s all I wanted to do. I was taking back what they took from us.’

  She had no answer for me. Again, I was listening to the wind and the dogs, then a couple walking past, waffling away.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Shut it. No more, James. I need to get my head around all this. They fly tonight – you know that?’

  ‘I know, I know. But I can’t stop it. It has to happen. I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I’m sorry that—’

  She wasn’t listening. ‘Pip – does she know? Should the boys go away, hide?’

  ‘No. Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything. They don’t know and they’re safe where they are. Same goes for the team – don’t say anything. I’ll sort them out when they get here. I just wanted you to know, that’s all. I need your help.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll fly with them tonight and then maybe I can—’

  ‘Whoa! No! Don’t come. Stay home. Pip and the boys – keep an eye on them. And there’s Mum, of course. That will help me feel better.’

  ‘Okay. But what are you going to tell the others?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. I’ll work it out. I’ll need your help, though. Will you help me?’

  There was a long pause before I got the answer, which was: ‘You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?’

  Of course I did.

  ‘I’ll meet them at the airport.’

  Part Six

  * * *

  34

  Tuesday, 4 December 2018

  The arrivals doors opened and closed every few minutes, spitting out people pushing trolleys piled with suitcases and daysacks. This airport was much bigger than Paraparaumu, for sure. There were jets coming in from Wellington, Auckland, Melbourne, full of excitement-seekers. Out on the pan there were private jets and helicopters. It was a much bigger deal, maybe because there was a lot more money in this part of the island.

  The plane carrying the team had landed at 21.20, five minutes late. But they were here. All good. They’d flown via Singapore, then Auckland, connecting to their final flight. They’d been in the air well over twenty-four hours, and I hoped they were knackered. More time for me to think while they rested.

  People dribbled through from a Nelson flight. Then about ten minutes later two men came out whom I recognized instantly, leaning on their trolleys as they pushed, hair sticking up, red-eyed. Warren and Tony looked too exhausted even to talk to each other as they scanned the crowd. Warren had been skinny as a kid and still was. He looked even skinnier nowadays, with his full-blown dad-bod and thinning brown hair. He’d always been a bit thin on top as well. He’d been trying to grow a beard since we were teenagers but it had never really worked out. In his thirties, he still had bum fluff. But what stood out about Warren, even at a distance, were his bowed legs. Dad used to say that none of the men in his family would ever be able to catch a greasy pig.

  We’d known each other since primary school. Like mine, his parents had made sure he went to school. Leg falling off? That’s all right, have a paracetamol, go to the doctor’s tonight. He married young and, for him, local: Jackie, who was a year above us. Warren was her toy boy. When we were kids he wanted to be a pilot and I wanted to be a vet, but life never turns out the way you hope. He had responsibilities; young wife, young family. Luckily, he was brilliant at art and design: tiling a bathroom, laying a floor, anything that needed a straight line, Warren was the man.

  Then 2008 came along and, like everybody else on the team, business went down the toilet. The only blessing was that Warren’s was a new one, a one-man band with a van. He didn’t have to lay off staff like we did, but his big dreams had evaporated. Ever since, he’d had to work as a subby, scrabbling around for scraps. If you needed a few tiles over your bathroom sink, he’d take the job. His two girls were at a Montessori school and that costs, but it didn’t matter to him: his whole focus was on Jackie and the kids. He had kept his family together through thick and thin, and I admired him for that. Maybe I felt just a little jealous of that success. I just wished he’d cheer up a little. Otherwise, for him, it’d be just moan … moan … moan … moan … dead.

  Uncle Tony and his wife, Aunty Maureen, had been part of my life for as long as I could remember, though we weren’t related. Great friends of Mum and Dad, the four had grown up together, and that was why, as kids, we’d called them Aunty and Uncle. They’d never had a family. I wasn’t sure if it was Tony or Maureen, it just wasn’t spoken about. Tony always looked the same to me. Short, stocky and solid, even though I’d seen him go grey, have a hip replacement, and grow ever more reluctant to buy a round. Certain things, though, never changed. His amazingly bright blue eyes always twinkled when he saw Charlotte and me, even when times were bad. And his nose was still very flat and very soft. As a kid I used to poke it, and as I pushed it in, he’d stick his tongue out. I’d press it again and the tongue would disappear. I had never thought to ask him how it had got so smashed up. Maybe he’d been born with it that way.

  Tony had never stopped being good to us kids, even when we came home from college on holiday. And Maureen: I was twenty-one and in my final year and she was still digging me out a KitKat, a Yorkie or an Aero. She used to work at the old Rowntree’s factory and the contents of her handbag depended on what run she was working on. The thing was so heavy that every time she drove with it on the seat next to her in their Škoda the warning alert beeped that the passenger hadn’t put on their seatbelt.

  But everything had changed during the crisis. Tony’s electrical company had gone the same way as ours, and now, of course, the double whammy: Maureen dying of cancer.

  The two made a beeline for me and there were handshakes and hugs. Then I stepped back and looked at both of them. It was unbelievably good to see them.

  ‘You two look terrible.’

  Warren had to agree as he checked his watch. ‘Twenty-six hours, thirty-four minutes of terrible.’

  Tony was just as I’d expected. ‘James, it’s really good to see you, boy.’

  I looked him up and down with mock disgust. ‘I wish I could say the same to you.’

  One more hug to him and then to Warren, all the while checking the arrival doors over his shoulder. ‘Where’s Gemma?’

  Tony was busy fishing a wet wipe out of his bum-bag and freshening himself up. ‘They stopped at the toilets.’

  ‘They?’

  Before Tony could answer, the arrivals doors opened and a trolley came through, followed by Gemma, who was pushing it. There was another trolley just behind her, and this one was being pushed by Charlotte.

  35

  I went to Gemma first: big hug. ‘Brilliant to see you!’

  Then I stepped back to take in both of them. ‘How come you two look so much better than this pair?’

  I gave Charlotte a hug and a kiss; there was nothing to say in public, apart from a big hello and great to see you.

  She took over the conversation to make sure it stayed that way. ‘Because we ate right, we didn’t drink the plane dry, and we didn’t try to watch every single film they had onboard. Even the kids’ ones.’ That got a laugh and then, as we started pushing the trolleys towards the exit, Gemma was straight on it: ‘Right – so what’s the scheme, Captain Calamity?’

  ‘I’ve got a minibus to take us back to the hotel. It’s a great place, views of the lake, room service – but unfortunately there are minibars.’ That got a laugh. I wanted to keep it light: I knew Egbers was out there somewhere, watching, checking their faces, making sure they matched what he had already discovered about them. He probably knew more about their secrets and lies than I did.

  I held back from the trolley group and Charlotte
also lagged to the rear so we could walk together.

  ‘Have you got a room yet? Have you sorted something?’

  ‘Of course. And before you start, the best way for me to help Pip and the kids is to be here and help you. Mum will be fine. They’re looking after her really well and she’s happy in her own world. She thinks three weeks is three minutes anyway. So, if there’s a problem they’ll call me, and I’m just a day away. Okay?’

  I nodded because it was.

  ‘Good. So we don’t need to talk about it any more. Let’s just get on and sort this mess out.’

  There was nothing to disagree with.

  ‘What did Simon have to say?’

  She looked straight ahead. ‘What you would expect. But so what? This is important. This is about my family.’

  We exited into the bright lights outside and the darkness beyond, and I finally caught a glimpse of Egbers, standing by the taxi booking desk. He would have worked out who the extra one was. It wasn’t that hard.

  We packed the bags into the minibus. I collected the trolleys and steered them into a bay before we headed off, all four with nodding heads as they tried to keep awake and take in the not-so-good-at-night view of the lake.

  36

  The team were handing over their passports for photocopying and receiving their door cards in return. Their faces and body language said all they were thinking about was clean sheets and a shower. That wasn’t going to happen as quickly for Charlotte as for the rest of them.

  I got up close to her as Gemma was handing over her passport and Tony and Warren were piling their bags onto a trolley. ‘I’ll come to you. We need to talk before tomorrow morning.’

  She resigned herself to the inevitable. ‘Give me half an hour?’

  I couldn’t help but smile. ‘No matter what, it really is good to see you.’