by Tim Heath
Robert walked around the new neighbourhood and before long found an internet café. Even though protocol had changed and for whatever reason he now found himself out of the loop, he should still be able to gain access to the primary system from any computer, as the access codes were linked to the individual and not the office, so would still be the same. He wanted to check on the THEDS tracking system, which he’d asked the technical guys to implement and now he hoped to see if it had found anything yet. Robert knew that in time his target would have to emerge again at some point and wanted more than anything to work out his location before his location was known.
However, as he worked through the screens, classical music playing quietly from a radio in the corner, it was only at that moment that Robert knew something was very wrong. For when he’d searched for the main THEDS program, it merely showed that it didn’t exist, the page just came back as unknown. Doing a more comprehensive search using a search engine over the next ten minutes, Robert could find no trace of it anywhere and yet only months before it had been widely discussed common knowledge. Robert started to fear the worst, knowing that now something was definitely up. The waitress brought over his coffee, and he paused to drink it, thinking the day’s events through one more time in his head, trying desperately to lay his fears to one side. Being sure that the technology must still exist out there somewhere, and now going down a dangerous path of logic, he started to expect the worst.
“What if it exists but the name is now different?” he said aloud in a sudden verbalisation of his growing fear. He started scanning through many web pages before finally finding an old posting that related to a company called Ample Tech. And there, in big letters next to a large photograph of a woman, was displayed the announcement of the first prototype, the Genesis System, described as the most sophisticated tracking system ever developed. There had been many further improvements over the years, and Ample Tech proudly talked about how they had used the same technology captured in the Genesis System to revolutionise their entire range. The latest system on sale now, at a massive £950 million apiece, was the Genesis XVII System and its description about what it did, when Robert brought up the page, was like nothing he’d ever dreamed about before, its capabilities far beyond anything ever imagined.
“Oh hell,” Robert said in alarm to himself. “He’s got THEDS!”
DCI Jack Derry stood up and stretched, happy with himself, due to the fact he’d made some encouraging progress that morning. By the time he left the office for lunch, it was already well into the afternoon, and the fresh air was inviting and spending some time out in it was most appealing. He decided a drive to an out of town café was in order. He was becoming a more frequent visitor to that particular one. The quiet of the trip as well as the restaurant itself would give him the time alone he needed to process all that he’d found.
In one of his many phone calls, Mary Ingham had told him about the takeover that Simon had been looking into for her, which involved the Gambles Holdings Group, though it was in fact the Harman Insurance Company Limited who were the purchasing company. DCI Jack Derry had then read through a lot about HICL and their CEO Brendan Charles, the man he’d only a few weeks back seen on most news channels with the buzz around the purchase of yet another English football team. What had made Jack smell trouble had been the later confirmation from Mary, who was as shocked as anyone by the findings, that Terry Goldman’s previous employer before his time at the Department had indeed been HICL themselves.
Jack’s mood changed after that, and all sorts of motives and reasons came to mind for why they might have been behind it all. It certainly made things look very bad now for HICL. Mary had then briefly outlined some of the details that Simon had mentioned to her though she admitted she hadn’t seen or heard what his conclusions had been. They both could guess, though neither admitted it, that apparently, the results had not looked good for HICL.
DCI Jack Derry’s experience told him there was something bigger going on behind the scenes and he could now smell a rat in it all. He started to believe that Terrance Goldman might have been just a body in the process, someone who happened to know too much. There had been a point in his interview with Terrance where he was about to speak. Jack had decided to stop things at that point and wait for his lawyer to arrive, though before that had happened Terrance was dead. Whether there had been some interference, Jack couldn’t prove but the body being destroyed with his apparent say so had all but confirmed the fact that there was something on the body that might otherwise have given some clues away. And now there was this link with Terrance Goldman and his former employers, the very people that his new boss Simon Allen had been investigating. What had Simon Allen found out? Whatever it may have been, Jack was sure, had undoubtedly got him killed.
DCI Jack Derry remembered in those brief moments before his death how Terrance had said that he had taken Simon to a meeting that morning. The alley in which Simon’s body had been found was not that far from the HICL building. Was it possible that there had been a meeting? Or was it just what Terrance wanted people to believe, and he had only taken Simon there to kill him? But why would he have done that had it not been the involvement of HICL that made the situation awkward?
Jack finished up his food, having got as far as he could in his mind without further evidence, and headed back to the station, quite confident now that he had grounds for a search warrant and indeed a case to build against HICL and especially Brendan Charles. As he pulled away from the car park onto the quiet road, he put a call into the station requesting a search warrant be issued, ready for his return, for HICL and an arrest warrant be made out for Brendan Charles.
Having said the name Brendan Charles, it was only about fifteen minutes later that Nigel Gamble heard the whole phone call, the new Genesis System producing results straightaway.
Robert Sandle had done enough research to fear the worst. Having learned that his target now controlled what once had been called THEDS but which had been renamed The Genesis System, Robert was then able to track down a telephone that couldn’t be traced. It would bounce the locator ID signal around the world so many times that all anyone would be able to hear was what was said. Knowing that this was now the best he could hope for, Robert did start to realise that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for his target to hear what he was saying.
The Genesis System had been first used, much ahead of time, by Ample Tech, which at least gave Robert a further link to his target. Undoubtedly not likely to be anyone blatantly linked to the firm itself, Robert knew at least that his target had access to the business and that knowledge alone would help him track him more easily. Robert would soon be able to precisely research who was who in the company and now realised that he too had been given a big headstart. Picking up the new telephone he’d just purchased from one of the few high street outlets that remained, Robert hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to which he was heading, before sitting back and trying to figure out how the new telephone worked.
He made good progress through the always crowded streets, and the taxi dropped him off some twenty minutes later, Robert going up the stairs to what at some point had been a warehouse but now hadn’t been a working building for some time. Robert had acquired most of it around eight years ago, doing all the repairs himself and used it as his city pad.
Two flights of stairs took him up to his front door and where his living space started. In a labyrinth of stairs and rooms, his generously proportioned apartment spread itself over three further floors. On the top floor, now far away from prying eyes and nosey neighbours, Robert housed his own particular room. In it, shining in solid stainless steel, stood a giant metal doorway whose form, though much improved and developed, still echoed its early versions. Though the technology was much developed in its sophistication, the current version still had all the wonder of the original WENTWORTH DOOR, and as a testament to its origins, the same name was more modestly stamped onto the front top left corner of the frame.
It was not just the doorway though. This version was entirely housed in a metal cube, and the door itself sat directly in the middle of the cube.
As Robert turned on the power, the device made its usual noises while electricity was highly charging the metal framework. Anyone touching it would be sure to die from such a voltage, but Robert took every precaution, as always. The cube sat on a six-inch rubber base and had nothing else within twenty feet of it, including the ceiling which stood open all the way up to the now rotting wooden joists. Robert carefully put everything he had with him in a bag, and since the device was now fully charged and ready for the pulse, he pressed the green button on the control pad and walked through the doorway as the pulse of electricity shot through the steel metalwork, making it glow red hot.
Thirty minutes later back at the police station, DCI Jack Derry pulled into the car park just as a courier van was pulling in, the driver getting out. They walked through the main doors together, and Jack was about to walk on when he heard the guy saying to the main desk that he had a package for a DCI Jack Derry and PC Chambers from Head Office that they needed to sign for and then he could leave.
Jack spoke up and went over to the courier, taking a look down at the package that was for him. He led the courier through the main door on the lookout for PC Chambers. Spotting him on the far side, Jack went over to him, the courier in tow, and caught PC Chambers’ attention just as he was finishing on the telephone. They all went together to a spare desk to open and sign for the package.
The courier stood there waiting, eager to get off home as this was his last drop of the day. He looked around the room, pieces of paper on all of the walls, each relating to different cases. They must have meant something to someone, but to his eye they just looked messy. As the courier glanced back, he saw PC Chambers glaring at him, as if to threaten him by saying; What do you think you are looking at? He straightened and watched DCI Jack Derry undo the protective paper and cut the tape that had HEAD OFFICE specially written over it, sure proof that it had indeed come from the HQ in the city centre. PC Chambers looked on eagerly now as well to see what they had been sent. As Jack pulled out the small metal box, it wasn’t apparent that there were more than ten kilograms of highly lethal explosives inside it. Nor was it evident that the box was wired to explode as soon as it was opened. Neither man had time to think, as the flames and explosion ripped the whole building apart, such was the power of it. The building collapsed within seconds, fire coming from every part, with every person inside the station killed instantly.
The explosion was heard for miles around. By the time the emergency services arrived ten minutes later, there was little to show of the station, a vast crater in the ground marking the place where the bomb had exploded. It would go down as a terrorist act and no doubt many leading ‘candidates’ would come forward admitting responsibility for it. After all, an explosion within the city limits on such a target made it a high profile news item––the real answer would likely never be found.
14
Back again safely in the country house, Robert sat quietly on the large sofa in the lounge, the remains of a stiff drink evident in the glass that sat next to him on the table, a half-finished bottle of expensive Scottish whisky beside it.
For Robert, the morning had seen his worst fears come true. He would probably need to go back very soon to find out all he could and assess the level of damage, but it already looked very bleak. First, he planned to start making some telephone calls, to start pushing hard to find the man responsible for all this trouble. Gone now was his tactic of staying low. Gone was the need to keep in the shadows, building his case and understanding his target. No, now the tables had been turned on him well and truly. He’d been the victim one too many times, and he knew that they were now onto him as much as he was onto them. Action was required. His options had already been dealt a severe blow with the loss of Simon Allen. The things that would inevitably take place over the next few weeks would shape everything that was to follow.
Robert got up and paced around a bit to clear his head. He opened the kitchen door that led into the garden, the wind blowing a little, carrying with it the distinct country smell that brought fresh air and focus to his fuzzy mind. Having stood there for five minutes just watching the world go by, Robert finally walked back into the lounge, now feeling a little more alert. Robert flicked through his contact cards until he found the number he was looking for, that of Tommy Lawrence. Robert knew that now it was time to start speaking to some of the leading players, and he had very few options left anyway. Before picking up the telephone, he scanned through some notes he’d written on the activities at Nottingham Forest over the last couple of weeks, making sure he was fully aware of all that had happened so far. He had also been interested to read about Clint Powers, who had been rumoured to have been open to a move to join up with Tommy Lawrence again before Manchester United became aware and signed him for a much more significant fee than they previously had considered. With all of this information fresh in his mind again, Robert picked up his telephone and dialled the number, waiting for a few seconds before the call was answered.
“Hello, Tommy speaking,” came the reply, his voice instantly recognisable, bringing a buzz of excitement to Robert.
“Mr Tommy Lawrence, what an honour this is to speak to you. My name is…,” He paused, thinking for just a moment, but wanting this conversation to be listened to later, he carried straight on, “Robert Sandle.”
“Are you a reporter?” Tommy did not sound impressed. “How did you get this number? Stop all the flattery anyway, it isn’t going to get you anything!”
“Oh no, Tommy, I’m not in the media.” Robert paused, still trying to pick his words carefully. “I do know a lot about you though. You are the great Tommy Lawrence! Didn’t Brendan Charles tell you that?”
Tommy paused, having been about to hang up fearing it was just a prank call before the name of his boss had been mentioned. It was, however, a widely known name as well, so it was still not out of the question that this was a prank call.
“An interesting array of young talent he’s got in for you, wouldn’t you say?” Robert said, carefully changing the pace and subject of conversation.
“I don’t know what you mean, I got them all myself,” he said, somewhat pathetically Robert felt.
“Come on, Tommy. We both know that you’d never heard of them before they arrived. Not many people had! Tell me, was it Brendan who got them in for you, or was it Brendan’s boss?”
“Look, this conversation is over. If you call me again, there’ll be trouble for you, mark my words!”
“Tommy, Tommy, calm down. Trouble is never far behind me, but that’s not my worry at the moment. Have you seen Jessica lately?”
The sudden change of subject stopped Tommy cold. Who was this man and how did he know so much?
“Who?”
“Come on, stop playing me for a fool! I know everything and much more. We need to chat in person. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
“Cut the crap. I don’t know who you are and there’s nothing you need to tell me. I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t care, I have a team to manage and things to do, so if you don’t mind I’ll....”
“Did you know Jessica works for Brendan? Always has since before you met?” Robert said, cutting in on Tommy, who now was silent on the other end.
“Of course, that wasn’t how I remembered it. Your wedding was front page news, the talk of the whole country. You’ve lived in Brendan’s pocket long enough now though, Mr Lawrence. It’s about time you started to learn the truth.”
“The truth? What truth? What are you talking about? Brendan has been nothing but professional with me,” Tommy said, rather weakly as he rolled through his mind the number of run-ins he’d had with him over the years.
“Look, I know it’s tough for you. You know you are the boss, and yet he’s always kept you under wraps. You know you can do your j
ob and yet he has you over a barrel so that you do all he wants. Tell me, since when did an office worker become a football manager overnight anyway? When Tommy? Never before, that’s when! Never. So why are you there? All these questions you must have, my friend. You must have thought them through yourself a hundred times by now. You see, if we meet I can give you some answers…,” Robert deliberately trailed off.
There was silence for about twenty-seconds before Robert continued.
“You still there?”
“Yeah, look, I need to go.”
Robert lowered his head, straining for the right thing to say knowing that he might not get another chance. He didn’t want to lose the opportunity. It was Tommy though who seemed to hold out his hand giving Robert the opportunity he wanted.
“Okay, if it’s the truth you know, tell me about Clint Powers.” Robert had been waiting for something like that to come up. “That must have been confusing for you, mustn’t it!”
“Confusing? What do you know?” Tommy was about to hang up. Robert replied quickly to keep him speaking.
“Confusing with what happened I mean. You wanted Powers, and I think you would have got him from all that I’ve read and yet he didn’t come. You must have asked yourself why that was many times. Why didn’t Brendan want him, because I know it wasn’t you who pulled the plug on the deal? It was Brendan, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Oh, I understand it very well. Let’s meet, and we’ll talk some more. I’ll be in contact with you soon. You’ll know straight away it’s me. When we meet face to face, I’ll tell you everything you need to know and answer all those questions you must have now burning away deep inside.”
Robert hung up, happy at how things had finished and he pictured how Tommy would be feeling at that moment sitting in his office. No doubt he’d be pondering all he’d just heard. Tommy was a tactician at heart, so Robert knew, having given him enough pieces, he would now be processing all that information in his head, and that would increase his desire to know more. The seed had been firmly planted. Making personal contact would be the next danger, and he would have to get it spot on to avoid capture. That would take a little planning but should be easy enough. First, though, he planned to make two further calls and picked up another contact card, dialling the number into the keypad on the phone. After two rings a female voice answered.
