“Okay,” Kade said, nodding towards the cabin and opening the driver’s door. “Let’s eat – then talk.”
“Just a minute.” Tom grabbed his arm. “Have we met before?”
“Definitely not.”
“It’s just that… Kade…It rings a bell.”
“I see. Then he must still talk about me.” He smiled at Tom’s puzzled expression. “You’ll work it out, Colonel.”
*
Mags lifted the phone to the familiar voice.
“Maggie! What a surprise. Just got your message. How are you?”
“I’m okay thanks – and you?”
“All the better for hearing your voice. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Mags gave a little laugh. “Well, it’s about Tom actually.”
“Awww! And I thought you were phoning to ask me to take you off somewhere. I’m devastated.”
“Just behave yourself, Josh Wilcox! I’m a happily married woman.” She paused, surprised at the words that had come out so naturally.
“Well, I’m very glad to hear it,” Josh said. “How can I help?”
“I just wondered whether you’d seen him recently.”
“How recently?”
“Well… today, preferably.”
“No, not seen him for a while. Not sure I want to either after last time. Call me Mr Wimpy, but I’d just as sooner stay alive.”
“I don’t follow. What do you mean ‘after last time’?”
“Well, you know – the strange case of the nearly-getting-shot-down-over-the-Atlantic.”
“I’m sorry, Josh, but I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
There was a long pause.
“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t spoken out of turn. You mean he didn’t tell you about…” His voice tailed off.
“No he didn’t – whatever it was! But you’re going to tell me, right now! So fire away.”
Another long pause.
“Josh! I’m waiting!”
“Okay… about a month ago, I got this urgent call from him, around lunchtime. Could I take him somewhere, right away – right then, in fact? He was lucky; I was free; so we set off, heading up to North Connel.”
“North Connel? What for?”
“That’s what I asked, but he wouldn’t tell me at first, fobbed me off with some stuff about loose ends. Then as we got further north we were told to turn back because – get this – we were a threat to national security. Tom insisted we carried on but got me to change course and follow the prisoner vessel heading out to Alpha. Anyway, we spotted it and just at that moment we were attacked by a couple of F2s.”
“Is this a wind-up, Josh? Because if it is…!”
“Pilot’s honour, Maggie. I have never been so shit scared in my life. But wait for the big finish. They threatened to shoot us down and were within seconds of doing it just as we got over the vessel, and Tom – you won’t believe this – gets a parachute from the back and starts to open the fucking door – sorry, Maggie – I’m shaking here just thinking about it. Anyway, just at that moment I tipped the plane over, he fell away from the door and then… Well, he’d missed his chance and he sort of calmed down.”
Mags could hear him breathing heavily as if the effort of recalling it had exhausted him. She found herself lost for words.
“Maggie, are you still there?”
“Yes, Josh. I’m just… What was he trying to do, for God’s sake?”
“He said there was somebody on the vessel who shouldn’t be there and he wanted to get him off. I said how the hell did he think he was going to do that, and he said if he could get onto the ship, he could make sure this person stayed on when they disembarked the rest of the prisoners and bring him back.”
“How could he possibly get onto the boat?” Her voice was now small and shaky. She could feel a wave of emotion rising inside her.
“Well, he knew he couldn’t – not directly. He said if I could drop him into the sea just ahead of the vessel, they’d have to pick him up.”
The wave broke, the phone fell to the floor, and she held her face in her hands, tears leaking through her fingers.
A long way off, she could hear Josh’s voice, shouting in panic.
“Maggie! Maggie!”
*
On the shore side of the cabin, out of sight of the road, was a compact generator, which Kade started up as Tom and Mike went inside. The interior was well appointed, with two strip-lights on a flat boarded ceiling, a couple of convector heaters mounted on the end walls and a work top running the full length of the room on which were a two-ring camping stove, kettle and small microwave oven. A fridge under one end of the work top started purring as the power came on. The lights flickered into brightness above them. In the centre of the floor was a rectangular wooden table with four ancient dining chairs around it – one at each side. A door at the far end led through to what Tom assumed would be a store room and toilet.
Mike hooked up the stove to a Calorgas canister under the work top and filled the kettle from one of two large bottles of water sitting on a sturdy shelf next to the single window, which looked out onto the bay. He opened the gas tap, sparked the ignition, and within a couple of minutes the kettle was singing on the hob. The high-pitched sound of a small engine began to intrude on the generator noise from outside and Tom could see a medium-sized inflatable heading towards them across the still water from the direction of the Archer.
Kade stepped in through the door carrying a large cool box, which he placed on the table. He took off the lid and removed packs of sausages and bacon, eggs, two loaves of bread, butter, milk, cartons of juice and a clear plastic bag containing mushrooms and tomatoes.
“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m ready for my full Scottish breakfast.” He glanced at his watch which told him it was 6.25 pm. “Ten hours late is better than never.”
The engine noise outside sputtered into silence and the muted sound of footsteps on sand approached the door. The man in camouflage trousers and combat jacket who entered was huge – two metres high, with a barrel chest and immense shoulders and upper arms. His black hair was thick and tousled and his full bushy beard showed just a hint of grey. His close-set piggy eyes seemed disproportionately small for such a vast frame.
“This is Sergei,” Kade said, “ex-FSB and your chef for the evening.” He looked across at his companion and nodded towards the pile of food on the table. Sergei smiled and rolled his eyes in mock frustration; then, after shaking Tom’s hand, he set to work.
*
David pressed the pause button, temporarily sparing the two outlaws the precipitous plunge into the roaring river. He placed his recently-emptied shot glass on the table beside his chair and juggled his mobile out of his pocket just in time to answer it after checking the caller’s name.
“Why do you always phone at the most exciting bits?”
“Not Liberty Vallance again?”
“No actually it’s…”
“Butch and Sundance?”
“Got it in two. How do you do that?”
“I’ve no idea. I mean, it’s not like you’re predictable or anything, is it?”
“Not in the least. So, what news?”
“It’s just to let you know, I’m going back to Leicester; with immediate effect, which means I start on Thursday; driving there the day after tomorrow. I thought we might get together on my way up. As it’s a Wednesday you won’t have to bunk off college. So, what do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea. Where shall we…”
“No, I mean what do you think about me going to Leicester?”
“Well, it’s good, isn’t it? When a FART’s gotta go… and I would have thought that’s where you’d want to be – not that I’m allowed to say why, of c
ourse.”
Jo made no reply.
“Nothing’s wrong between you and Seb, is there?”
“No, not yet.”
“Not yet? He’s going to be over the moon, isn’t he? I thought you would be as well.”
“Whether we are or not, I can’t help feeling this is the beginning of the end for us. That’s what I’m dreading most, to be honest.”
“Sorry, I…”
“Well, I can’t see us having a meaningful – let’s say – romantic attachment if we’re working together all day, every day, can you? That’s hard enough to come to terms with because I really like him. But to not have that relationship, we’re going to have to formally end it, and what is that going to be like when we’re with each other all the time? I can’t get my head round it at all.”
“Well, speaking as someone who has a proven record of cocking up relationships, I suggest you learn from my mistakes and stick with him. No point in dumping him before you try and make it work. Then if it doesn’t … Anyway, you’re only there on assignment; you’ll be somewhere else soon, no doubt, then you’ll be moaning about not being with him.”
Jo laughed. “Thanks, David. As always, you’ve said exactly what I wanted to hear. There’s something else, though.”
“Oh, God, really? I’ve got Paul Newman and Robert Redford hanging in mid-air over a waterfall here. Go on, then.”
“It’s what Johnny Mac said when he told me I was going back to Leicester – that Wes Wallace had asked for me again and he felt he couldn’t say no – that sort of thing. But when I spoke to Seb an hour or so ago, he said Wallace had told him that Mackay had requested – a few weeks ago, actually – that he take me back as soon as possible.”
“And?”
“Well… that’s it really. But I’ve been working with the police and customs in Brighton for the last couple of months, and I thought – and I’m pretty sure Brighton thought – that that’s where I’d be going next. In fact, it’s been mentioned a couple of times – just sort of off-hand. You know – ‘it will be easier once you’re down here’ – that sort of thing.”
“My advice to you, young lady, is to rejoice in what has happened and stop looking for hidden agendas everywhere. In a couple of days you’ll be back with Mr Carter, which is what you both want. What exactly passed between a brace of Chief Supers in order to achieve that doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Jo took a few moments to consider before she answered.
“No, I guess not. Anyway, what about this nosh on Wednesday?”
“Well, I assume you’ll go clockwise M25 to the M1, so I’m not sure what’s – quote – ‘on my way up’.”
“I was thinking I’d go anticlockwise and drop off in Meadow Village. What do you think?”
“You’d do that for me? I’m filling up…”
“Only for you. Shall we say midday? I’ll come to the Fold.”
*
Kade’s imposed protocol of not discussing business during the meal had been admirably observed and the plates and mugs were now piled in the stainless steel sink in the worktop. The quartet faced each other across the table which now supported four non-matching whisky glasses – each containing about a triple measure – and a half-emptied bottle of Glenfiddich.
“Okay,” Tom said, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “My thanks to the chef…” he nodded to Sergei, “… for an excellent and timely meal. And now, can we please…”
Kade held up a hand to stop him.
“The only item on this evening’s agenda is a decision on whether we go ahead, and yours is the only name against that item, Colonel. You can assume, as Mike has already told you, that the mission is achievable, although, of course, with no guarantee of success. The subject of how is not a topic for discussion tonight. Any information as to who we are, Mike’s role and involvement, methods, tactics, will flow from that decision; that is assuming you say yes. You’ll be told what you need to know when you need to know it and not an iota more or a second before. The only thing I will tell you now is that you will be part of the mission which I shall command. Is that understood?”
Tom looked back into the piercing pale eyes, neither man moving a muscle or blinking for a long time.
“I understand what you’re saying,” Tom said. “However, understanding is not necessarily the same as accepting. But one thing I am entitled to ask, I think, is about the funding required and the source of that funding. Put another way, how much will this cost me?”
Kade smiled. “How much do you think Jason’s life is worth?”
“Look, let’s not play games,” Tom said, leaning further across the table. “You know there’s no answer to that.”
“Okay, in relative terms then.”
Kade half rose from his chair to remove a piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and then sat down again. It was a sheet of A4, folded twice, which he opened out and placed on the table in front of him. The sheet contained a hand-written list of items with a cash value against each. Kade continued to speak without looking at it.
“You own outright three properties with an overall value in excess of six million pounds. That’s Balmaha at just under a million, Villa Margarita in Marbella at two-and-a-quarter and Etherington Place at just over three. Three million is a conservative valuation, in fact, ignoring the opportunity for developing one acre of the property for a small estate of four five-bed executive homes with a profit potential of a further two million on sale completion; a scheme for which a business plan and outline planning permission already exist.
“You have off-shore investments to the value of seven million – we’re still talking pounds – all of which are locked in for periods varying between one and six years. Your on-shore investments total a further sixteen million of which half is in growth bonds, global equities and property. All the above are in joint names with your wife. The other half of the sixteen million is split into individual instant-access savings accounts, four million in each name.”
Tom continued to stare into Kade’s eyes. Kade smiled, seeming completely relaxed.
“The sum of these readily accessible and readily disposable assets amounts to – round numbers – thirty million pounds. And then, of course, there’s Wolverine Holdings – the Winchester-Tomlinson-Brown business empire, comprising a prestigious art gallery in Kensington, the eco-property development company GreenHouses, and the building merchants, Wolverine Supplies. The companies are managed by your wife but jointly owned by the two of you and your father-in-law, Sir Joseph Winchester. Last year Fairbanks International – the largest construction company in Europe – made an offer of one hundred and seventy million pounds for GreenHouses and Wolverine Supplies. An offer which you turned down – presumably because you didn’t need the money.”
Tom banged his fist down on the table, causing the glasses to jump and prompting Sergei to leap to his feet.
“None of that is any of your fucking business!” Tom shouted. “What has it got to do with anything?”
Kade leant back in his chair and shrugged, smiling sweetly across the table. He signalled for Sergei to sit down again.
“I’d really like to hear what value you place on Jason’s life. I was just reminding you of a few comparators. But you haven’t got the first idea about the value of money, have you? Because you haven’t contributed anything to that fortune. It was just handed to you while you went off to play soldiers and, since then, by your in-laws? So you wouldn’t have a clue about pricing a life, would you? Perhaps you should phone your wife and ask her?”
Tom was silent for a long time.
“Major Marty Kade,” he said. “Now I remember. John Deverall told me about you. You’re the guy who helped Abu el Taqha escape from John’s patrol. Right?”
Kade did not move but Tom saw the smile disappear from his eyes an
d the muscles in his jaw tighten.
“You know how it is, Colonel,” he said. “You are trusted – and paid – to follow orders. You should know; you decided that you’d much rather follow orders than give them when you gave up the chance of leadership to start at the bottom in the ranks. Why did you do that, by the way?”
“Perhaps because I was tired of getting things given to me, like you said.” Tom was calmer now, sensing Kade’s partial retreat onto the defensive. “I wanted a chance to show I could do it on my own, without all the advantages my family gave me.”
“Very noble – heroic, some would say. But it’s all part of the same picture, isn’t it? You could only make that choice – become plain old Private Brown, instead of Lieutenant Tomlinson-Brown – because you didn’t have to worry about your future. Daddy would make it okay whatever happened. I can’t think of any other rationale for someone giving up the chance of a commission with all its rewards – financial and the rest – in order to spend five years working up to it.”
It was Tom’s turn to smile across the table.
“Let’s be clear, Major – or is it General now? – I’m not ashamed of coming from a rich background…”
“I’m not suggesting…”
“Nor am I proud of it. As you pointed out, none of those riches had anything to do with me. Just an accident of birth. Waiving a commission was just my way of dealing with that. And, just in case your research hasn’t gone this far, Daddy didn’t get me from private to full colonel faster than anyone else in British military history. I did that myself.”
Kade nodded. “That you did, Colonel. No-one is saying…”
“But what of you, Major. How quickly did you get promoted after ‘following orders’ in the Hindu Kush?”
Lost Souls Page 32
