by Tom Benson
“Don’t worry about it,” Phil said, “Once I’ve said what I have to say, and we’ve had any follow-up discussion, we can make a rapid rerun of the main points of the debriefing for Eva’s benefit.”
“Thank you,” Eva said. “I’ll try just to listen now.”
A ripple of laughter sounded around the group.
Phil said, “I’ll cut to the chase.” He looked across the table. “As Jake said a few years ago before he left ... it’s been an honour and a privilege to work with you guys.” He glanced at Ian and Eva before turning to look across the room at his first recruits. “However long we might have worked together, I think we’ve achieved some incredible results, and for that and all your efforts I thank you, sincerely.” He turned to Annabel. “We’ve already informed Stuart.”
Uncharacteristically, Annabel reached her hand onto the table and placed it in Phil’s hand. She sipped her latte before speaking. “What my soul-mate and hero is trying to say is, we’re taking a step back.”
Rachel stared wide-eyed but said nothing.
Something that had preyed on Jake’s mind for many years was reawakened. He wanted to speak to Phil in private and ask him about Chameleon, the mysterious assassin who had shot the Kentobi president’s helicopter down all those years ago.
Now as he looked at the couple in front of him, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know the answer. Phil and Annabel between them had killed so many people but also done so much good. If they had found happiness with each other, Jake wasn’t about to upset them. He was brought back from his reverie when the woman to his front raised her voice a little.
“We wanted to tell all of you at once,” Annabel said. “We’re going into semi-retirement. We’ve discussed the idea at length. As long as you four guys are willing to form the basis of the Beyond The Law Enterprise team, we’ll be there for you as advisors. If you’re stuck and desperate, we’ll come back as operatives.”
Rachel said, “How will we manage without you two?” She turned to Jake. “It wouldn’t be the same, besides this guy will be going back to the SAS Regiment next week.”
“No, I won’t,” Jake said. “I called my CO on Friday, and we had a chat. If I resign, inquiries by the American DEA and the Colombian government are not going to happen.”
He nodded to Phil and Annabel before turning to Rachel. “I told Phil about my decision on Friday, but asked him to keep it under wraps until today.”
Ian said, “Does that mean me and Eva could become full members of the team?”
“Yes,” Annabel said. She turned to Eva. “Are you up for it young lady?”
Eva grinned. “I am if you guys will help to get us up to an acceptable standard.”
“Consider it done,” Phil said.
Jake’s mobile rang. He checked the caller and squinted. “Stuart Fowler.” He accepted the call. “Hi Stuart, how can I help you?” Jake’s brow furrowed as he listened. “Yes, we are. Thank you, and I’ll pass it on to the other guys.” He looked across the table. “Phil and Annabel have just been performing a handover.”
Everybody else remained silent while the call continued.
Jake said, “Is it a positive match?” He nodded, pulled out a small notebook and wrote a handful of words. “Thanks for the heads-up mate. Bye.”
“Come on handsome,” Rachel said. “What’s the big secret?”
“As you all know,” Jake said and looked at their faces. “Simpson had a twin brother by the name of Brian.”
“He’s the guy we have down as the murderer in Australia and Spain,” Rachel said.
Jake nodded. “The Australian police have now been in touch with their British counterparts and confirmed the sighting of Brian Simpson in Sydney in July. It looks like he’s slipped out of the country because the Spanish authorities have now passed on information that they too have his prints.”
Ian asked, “Are we saying that this guy is the one that Rachel and I saw?”
“Yes mate, so he didn’t leave Australia via a regular flight or sailing,” Jake said. “He managed to get to Steve Smith, who’d been on the witness protection list for several years?”
Three of the others nodded, but Eva was in the dark.
Jake continued. “We know he was in Spain a week or so later, but he’s not in Spain anymore.” Jake looked around the room. “A man fitting his description turned up in a hospital in Aberdeen. He was carrying a newspaper with a picture of his brother Norrie and asking to see the body.”
Rachel said, “I suppose by the time the police were informed, he’d no doubt have gone.”
“Yes,” Jake said, “but not before Brian found out that his brother had been shot by bikers. Somebody on duty in the hospital had been on call when the mountain road shooting incident took place, and, of course, they couldn’t keep it to themselves.”
Annabel said, “One useful if innocent confirmation was that a child in the Aberdeen hospital pointed out a big man who had different coloured eyes.”
Eva said, “He’s only one person. I’m sure we’ll be able to trace him.”
There was the sound of quiet clapping.
Rachel, Jake, Ian and Eva all turned to look at Phil and Annabel, who then stopped their round of applause.
“Your first job as a team,” Phil said, “and you’re all doing well.”
“If there is any good news,” Annabel said. “It would only be that the Simpsons were twins and not triplets.”
Annabel wasn’t known for using dark humour, but she managed to bring a smile to the faces of all around the table.
.
Sunday 1st August
Glasgow Green
Scotland
Brian Simpson sat on a bench staring out across the acres of grass and pathways. Children were playing football, and families enjoying picnics. In various parts of the massive park area, folk were sunbathing or sitting enjoying a bottle of chilled juice from a cool-bag.
For a moment, Simpson stared at the Sunday newspaper. The centre-page spread showed photographs of his brother Norrie, and his associates: Peter Henderson, Gordon Fitzpatrick aka Martin Cameron, and the ex-Godfather William Hartley. The write-up praised the actions of the people’s hero, Hawk and his vigilante team.
Brian didn’t care about the others, but he wanted somebody to pay for his brother’s death. They hadn’t seen each other in years until Norrie flew to Australia a couple of months before, and now he was dead. Brian Simpson didn’t do tears—he only did anger.
“I’m gonna clip your fuckin’ wings Mr fuckin’ Hawk.”
Nadia Henderson strolled along one of the many footpaths. She stopped at the first column erected in honour of Horatio Nelson, one of Britain’s celebrated heroes.
“Strange,” she said aloud as she looked at the battle honours around the base of the obelisk. “A British naval hero and the first place to erect a monument to him was Glasgow.” She shook her head and set off to saunter around the park.
It struck Nadia she hadn’t walked around Glasgow Green since she was a young girl. She was back now, though, with a new look and a new name. More importantly, she had a new mission in life. She was going to find and kill whoever murdered her twin brother, Peter.
“I belong to Glasgow,” she murmured. She walked past a big, bald man with stubble, who was glaring at the photos in the middle pages of his newspaper.
My God, she thought, he looks as angry as I feel.
**The End**
Epilogue
.
Braemartin House
The building was handed over to the Scottish Heritage for development as a museum
.
Helen Fitzpatrick
The wife of the wannabe Godfather had mixed fortunes following her rescue from her ordeal of live burial. She spent two months in hospital and received specialist counselling.
Before she could complete a deal for freedom, a Spanish detective arrived in Glasgow, investigating the death of an estate agent’s wife several months earlier. The
woman’s body had been found in the large garden. Lorraine Cameron’s fingerprints were discovered on a knife found near the woman’s home. The British police confirmed that Lorraine Cameron and Helen Fitzpatrick were one and the same.
.
Stephanie Henderson
The one-time gold-digger and lover of a good time gave valuable information to the Procurator Fiscal, regarding the gang who assisted in Martin Cameron’s escape from the prison van. Stephanie had been used for the prison visits to set up the escape, because there were no official files on her. She produced a small notebook which contained timings, dates, names and payments. In return, she was given a new identity. Stephanie flew to Canada.
.
The Mental Riders
Max and Jacko met Jake and Rachel in a remote location and returned radios, weapons and ammunition. Max told Rachel he’d hang onto her number, just in case the team ever needed some rapid, mobile reinforcements.
Through selective body-searching during the mission, the biker gang’s arsenal increased considerably. They had enough arms and ammunition to start a small war, but they also had enough drugs not to give a shit about anything for a while.
At a club meeting it was decided that there would be regular weapon training and tactics sessions to hone the skills of the members.
.
Geordie Lavery
DCI Monroe and DI Hughes provided statements to the effect that Geordie had worked as an unofficial undercover agent to unearth and bring to justice the gang being run by the new crime lord known as Gordon Fitzpatrick aka Martin Cameron.
Among the mourners at Geordie’s funeral were: Jake, Rachel, Ian, Eva. Max, Jacko, Sinbad, Pedro, and Slash. The bikers arrived with a wreath based on the gang’s patch. A large heart-shaped wreath arrived from ‘Hawk and Alpha’. A regular wreath arrived from ‘Eddie and Amy’.
.
Freddie Ryan
While he mourned the death of a friend he’d known and served with for years, he was joined by the special mourners for a drink after Geordie’s funeral. Freddie asked what he would have to do to prove himself good enough for BTL, apart from regaining the strength in his right arm.
Jake suggested taking a day at a time. Rachel agreed, but added that the identity of the two rogue ‘bikers in black’ should remain a mystery. Freddie agreed.
.
DCI Eddie Monroe
He received a commendation for his handling of the undercover work leading to one of the biggest drug hauls of recent times. When he received a call from the coastguard he was able to confirm the codeword, thanks to Amy. The coastguard had been joined by armed police, and they captured eight metric tonnes of cocaine. Eddie moved back to the Strathclyde Force to take over the Serious Crime unit in Pitt Street.
.
DI Amy Hughes
She received a commendation for her undercover work, which involved supporting the Drug Enforcement branch, and bringing down the escaped prisoner cum future Godfather, Fitzpatrick.
Her summer continued on a high when she received a call from her old boss Sam Griffiths. He was considering an offer to leave the training depot at Tullieallen to take over as Chief Constable at Pitt Street.
.
Jake Carter
Jake’s resignation from the SAS Regiment prevented both a public inquiry by the Ministry of Defence, and investigations by the Colombian authorities and the American DEA.
BTL Enterprises found a new leader with similar skills and ideals to its founder.
.
Rachel Donoghue
Although she was saddened not to see her two idols regularly, she was pleased to become part of the leadership at the rebirth of the team.
Having lived alone for long enough, Rachel took on a lodger in her house in Scotstoun. Jake proved to be clean, tidy, a good cook and a superb bed-warmer.
.
Ian Andrews and Eva Ewing
Both the newcomers were delighted to have joined such an elite organisation, and together with their associates practised their skills on a regular basis. Thanks to Jake and Rachel there was a plentiful supply of weapon and driving skills training.
.
Phil McKenzie and Annabel Strong
Phil’s demons had been laid to rest back in ’96 when he put William Hartley in a vegetative state. Living and working with Annabel gradually transformed him from an automaton to a caring human being—albeit one who could kill at the drop of a hat.
Annabel still had her personal demons, but in Phil, she had found the only soul-mate and true lover she had ever known. She agreed with her man that they would secretly keep their hand in. They would observe the new team in action, still operating beyond the law.
Part III
Beyond The Law
Consequences
1. Revelations
.
Sunday 8th August, 2004
Glasgow Green
Glasgow
Central Scotland
Nadia Henderson hadn’t walked around Glasgow Green since she was a young girl. She’d left the city when she turned eighteen, but she’d returned now, with a new look and a new name. More importantly, Ms Henderson had a new mission in life. Among other things, she intended to find and kill whoever was responsible for the death of her twin brother, Peter.
“I belong to Glasgow,” she murmured absently. As she walked past Nelson’s Monument her eye was caught by a big, bald man with stubble. He sat alone on a park bench, glaring at the centre pages of his newspaper.
My God, Nadia thought, he looks as angry as I feel.
Nadia stopped after a few more paces along the pathway. She pulled the newspaper from her shoulder bag and opened at the centre pages. As if it could be forgotten, it showed the pictures of her brother Peter, and the gang members who’d died with him in a shoot-out in the Highlands. She looked from the photos to the man sitting on the bench, and back to the newspaper.
“Either Norrie Simpson isn’t dead,” she murmured, “or you are the brother.” She shook her head in disbelief. “It must be something about twins.” She walked back and joined the man on the bench.
The squint as the man glanced sideways would have disconcerted most people.
“Hello, it is Mr Simpson isn’t it?” Nadia whispered as she leant close to him.
Simpson’s right eyebrow rose, and he looked around the immediate area before turning to meet the attractive young woman’s gaze. He didn’t speak.
“I wondered if I could have a word,” Nadia continued. “My name is Martina Crawford.”
.
Saturday 11th September
Kelvingrove
Glasgow
“Daddy, Daddy, there’s a lady at the door, with a parcel.” The six-year-old stood beside the window with the long drapes pulled back. “She’s all in black like a superhero.”
“Come away from the window, Katy, and stop making up stories.” Gregor Findlay doted on his daughter, but her two most significant problems were her fertile imagination, and the inability to stay in bed for long once she was awake.
A light tap at the door had Findlay leave the lounge to answer the door. He glanced at his watch.
“Who the hell is it at eight o’clock on a Saturday?”
“It’s the superhero lady with the parcel,” Katy said, tilting her head to one side. “I told you.”
“What can I do for you?” Findlay asked as he held the door open. He looked the figure up and down. Black leathers and a black helmet with mirrored visor stood before him. In the person’s leather-gloved hand—a padded envelope.
The biker flicked up the visor, revealing blue eyes and long dark lashes. Most of the face was held tight in the padding of the safety helmet. There were no logos or markings on any of the biker’s outfit, or on the gleaming black bike purring in the driveway a few feet away.
“Are you Mr Gregor Findlay, the MSP?” a muffled female voice asked.
“I am, how can I help you?”
“You’ll find out how l
ater, but for now, have this.” She handed over the package, winked at him, and turned on her heel.
Findlay slipped the delivery under his arm and pulled his robe tighter as he watched the bike head down the gravel drive to the main road. A sheet of reflective material sticking over the rear number plate prevented Findlay reading the digits. Strange, he thought.
“Is it a pressie, Daddy?” Katy asked.
“No, darling.” He patted her head. “It’s a business thing from work. I’ll have to read it in my study. Would you let me have a minute?”
“What shall I do until Mummy gets up?”
“You could make your room tidy to show Mummy.”
“Oh Daddy, that’s boring.”
Findlay was infuriated by his wife’s habit of leaving him to deal with the child first thing in the morning, particularly over the weekend.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “While I go and read this message, would you watch in case any more superheroes are visiting?”
“Is your message a secret?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re whispering.” Katy tried to wink like the courier, but both eyes partly closed. She headed to the window and pulled the drape back to observe the driveway.
“Katy,” her father murmured. “How did you know it was a lady when her face was covered?”
“By the way she walked, silly.” She shook her head, and her tangled blonde hair lifted from her shoulders.
Findlay went to his study and used a letter opener to slice through the package. He emptied the contents onto his large desk—three photographs and a piece of flimsy black material. He lifted the black item and stretched it out.
