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Authors: Bill Kitson

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BOOK: Altered Egos
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‘How do you mean?’

‘I’d taken a round. Just a flesh wound, but it was bleeding a bit. I’d lost my kit in the firefight, so I went back to where Johnny was lying. I knew he’d got dressings in his pack. His body was in the middle of a ring of boulders. His wound was a through and through.’

‘What’s a through and through?’

‘The bullet went into his body and came out again. You can always tell where a bloke’s been shot. The entry wound’s small, about the size of the bullet. The exit wound’s a lot bigger, and far messier. Johnny was lying face up. I had to turn him over to get at his pack. That was when I saw he’d been shot in the back. As I turned him, my left hand was on his chest. This dropped into my palm.’

He placed a small lump of distorted metal on the table. ‘I couldn’t work out how two guys as smart as Johnny and Smith got outflanked. They’d never allow a bunch of insurgents
to come up on them from behind. Then I looked at this and realized the horror of it. And knew that it wasn’t cowardice made Smith abandon me. You see, that casing comes from a British army rifle. The Taliban use nothing but Kalashnikovs. Smith shot Johnny in the back and left me to the tender mercies of the insurgents in case I started asking questions when I got back to base.’

‘Did you? Ask questions I mean?’

‘No, I didn’t. I suppose I should have, but I’d no proof. Apart from that bullet, and there’s nothing to say Smith fired it. I’d three days walking to think it through. By which time the drugs had worn off. So I decided to keep quiet.’

‘That really is horrible. I don’t think I can imagine anything more wicked.’

‘I’m not sure I can either,’ he agreed.

But that was because neither of them had read the encrypted disks.

‘What are we going to do?’

He looked at her, pleased by the word ‘we’. ‘One thing’s for certain, we can’t be seen here. First thing I’m going to do is move the van. There are some lock-up garages at the end of the street. I rent one. I’ll park up behind it, run an extension cable out and charge the batteries. Whilst I’m there I’ll replace the gas cylinders and put a couple more in. We might have to stay in the wilds for a while.’

‘What about the water?’

‘There’s a tap in the garage. I’ve a couple of containers I can use to top the tank up with. It’ll take an hour or so. I want you to stay here, out of sight whilst I’m away. That means no lights on.’

He reached into his pocket and took out the pistol. ‘This time it is loaded. That’s the safety catch. Make sure you leave it on, unless you have to fire it. When I get back, don’t open the door until you’re absolutely sure it’s me on the other side. And just because whoever’s there says they’re me, don’t believe them. Make sure and get proof.’

Jessica had become used to silence. She couldn’t believe an empty house could be capable of producing so many noises. The central heating gasped and gurgled, the immersion cylinder bubbled and spluttered and the fabric of the building produced more creaks and groans than an arthritic old man. To begin with, she found herself checking the luminous display on her watch every couple of minutes.

She forced herself to relax, to try different methods to distract her attention from the slow passage of time. She told herself Steve was a professional soldier. He wouldn’t put her in harm’s way. He knew what he was doing. Nobody could possibly guess she was inside this house. Except that it was his house. And Smith had been round looking for him. She forced herself to patrol the ground floor of the house, moving slowly from room to room, gun raised, ready to confront homicidal intruders capable of shooting people in the back. That served to increase the tension. It didn’t help that every other stride provoked the floorboards to provide a new sound to go with the rest.

She returned to the kitchen and sat back to try some deep breathing exercise. The chair creaked alarmingly. She found a position where she could relax without causing it to protest and waited. She glanced at her watch. Fifty-five minutes had passed. He should be back shortly. She hoped. Was it her imagination, or had she heard a sound outside. She listened, waited, heard it again. Someone coming up the path. A shadow passed across the window blind. Jessica raised the pistol. Her thumb felt for the safety catch.

There was a tapping sound on the glass panel of the door. ‘Jessica?’ She heard the voice. Was it Steve? ‘Jessica, it’s me, Steve.’

‘Prove it,’ she said, remembering his instructions. ‘Tell me something nobody else could know.’

Without a pause he said, ‘You’ve a mole on the underside of your right breast. And another on the left cheek of your backside.’

She unlocked the door. ‘Pervert,’ she muttered as she let him in. She saw the gleam of his teeth in the darkness and knew he was laughing at her.

‘How did you get on?’ Change the subject. Fast.

‘Water’s topped up. Battery’s on charge. And I’ve replaced the gas cylinders. Battery should have enough in it by morning.’

‘Do we stay here tonight? Or in the van?’

‘Neither,’ he said, to her surprise. ‘We’ve got work to do. The fact that Smith’s been snooping round makes it even more urgent. But we can’t do it here. The van’s too vulnerable as well, whilst it’s here. Give me a minute. I need to collect something. Then we’re going visiting.’

‘We can’t visit someone. Not at this hour of the night. People will be in bed, asleep. Normal people that is, not nutcases like you.’

‘There’s nothing abnormal about Sonya. She doesn’t sleep very well, she told me. And I’ve just passed her house. The lounge light’s on.’

‘And what’s she going to make of me? Turning up with you in the middle of the night, I mean? Won’t she think it a bit, well, you know?’

‘I’ll soon put her right. I’ll explain that I kidnapped you.’

‘You’re going to tell her that?’

‘I have to, can’t avoid it. Not if we’re going to convince her what we’re going to tell her isn’t a fairy story. Now, hang on there a couple of minutes.’

He disappeared, but was back in no time. ‘Bring the gun, and be ready to use it.’ He slipped the strap of the laptop case over his shoulder and let them out of the house. When they reached the front wall he held up a hand to detain her. He peered round the end of the building, looking both up and down the street. ‘Walk, don’t run,’ he told her. ‘And, arm in arm. Pretend we’re a courting couple.’

‘The things you have to do in the army,’ she muttered.

chapter thirteen

Smith’s visit had unsettled Sonya more than she’d have thought possible. Concern over Steve coupled with her continuing grief meant that for the past three nights she’d hardly slept a wink. She’d prowled the house throughout the early hours, unable to settle to anything. Hot baths, hot chocolate, camomile tea; nothing helped.

The knock was little more than a gentle tap, but in the silence it sounded thunderous. Sonya jumped; her heart racing. The shock was compounded by the knowledge that the knock was on the window, not the door. She crossed the lounge swiftly, before whoever was out there could knock again. She didn’t want the kids waking. She flung back the curtains, saw it was Steve and sighed with relief. He pointed towards the door and signalled to her to close the curtains. She nodded and hurried to let him in.

She unlocked the front door and opened it wide. ‘Steve, what’s going on?’ She started to ask, but the words died in her throat. Partly at the sight of the girl standing behind him, but mostly because of the gun.

‘Tell you inside,’ he brushed past her. The girl followed. Sonya closed the door, locked it and turned. The hallway was empty. She went into the lounge. Her visitors were standing in the middle of the room. Steve saw the tension in her face. ‘Relax, Sonya.’

‘What’s going on?’ She looked at Jessica. ‘Smith asked me if you had a girl with you. He even described her,’ she said slowly.

‘Did Smith tell you her name?’

‘No, just the description. Are you and her…? Is she your…?’

‘No, nothing like that. Sonya, this is Jessica North. I kidnapped her a couple of weeks ago.’

‘What! Did you say kidnapped?’

‘That’s right.’

Sonya looked from Steve to Jessica then back again. ‘This must seem a silly question. But if you kidnapped her, how come she’s carrying the gun?’

‘It isn’t a silly question,’ Jessica answered for him. ‘If Steve hadn’t kidnapped me, I’d have been dead by now. Just like my mother and brother. Murdered!’

Sonya shook her head, not in denial, but to try and make sense of what she’d heard. ‘Let’s sit down, try to relax,’ Steve told her. ‘I’ll explain what’s been happening.’ He looked across at Jessica and coughed gently. ‘I think Sonya might feel a little easier if you put that away.’ He pointed to the gun.

Jessica looked down. ‘Oops, sorry, force of habit.’ She stuffed the pistol into her coat pocket.

The story took almost an hour, not least because of the regular need to convince Sonya she hadn’t wandered into an episode of
Spooks
. It was the final piece of evidence that proved conclusive. Steve produced a photograph and passed it to her. ‘See if you recognize anyone on there.’

The image was of four men, pictured outside a camouflage tent in the desert. ‘That’s you, on the right,’ Sonya said immediately. She looked closely. ‘And that one, the one in the centre, that’s the bloke who came here. The one who called himself Smith.’

‘That’s probably the only thing he’s said in the last couple of years that isn’t a lie,’ Steve told her.

‘What do you intend to do?’

‘We need a safe house until morning. I left the van behind the lock-ups, charging the batteries. We can’t stay over the road for obvious reasons.’

‘I haven’t a bed spare, unless you take mine. I can doss down on the settee,’ Sonya offered.

Jessica went scarlet. Steve smiled. ‘I told you, it isn’t like that. What we need is a table to work at. We need to decipher the files I stole from the laboratory.’

‘Use the dining room.’ She pointed through the archway. ‘I’ll go put the kettle on.’ She led the way, pausing to lift a basketful of ironing and a small collection of soft toys from the table. ‘I’ve a fold-up table in the kitchen if you need extra space.’

‘No, this will do fine.’

When she returned with coffee, Sonya said, ‘I’ve been thinking. Ever since Smith came, there have been cars driving past at all hours of the night. I didn’t notice at first, but after a couple of nights I started listening for them. About three times a night a car would go past, driving slowly, turn at the end of the street and come back. I wondered if it was revellers who’d been out clubbing, but when it happened again and again I began to think it was something more sinister. Or am I being paranoid?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Steve told her.

‘Before you get started, do you want something to eat? I cook a mean egg banjo,’ she added.

Steve looked at Jessica. ‘Great idea,’ he said. ‘We haven’t eaten since lunchtime and Jessica’s got an appetite like a horse.’

It took over three hours, with all three of them working at it, before they finished breaking the coded files down into English. They sat round the oval table, their faces a grim reminder of what they’d learned. ‘I can’t believe anyone could be so evil,’ Sonya said at last. She leaned across and put her hand on Jessica’s. ‘I’m sorry I behaved like a cow when you came in, love. This must have come as a hell of a shock, and my attitude didn’t help.’

Jessica’s eyes were bright with tears. She gripped Sonya’s hand, and Steve knew she was close to breaking point.

‘Listen to this.’ He turned a page. ‘This is an extract from the personnel file on me. “Subject, Hirst, Steven. Rank: Sergeant. Training report summary. This man is perfect for infiltration and assassination work. A natural born killer. Description: Tall, black hair, dark brown eyes, swarthy/sunburnt complexion. Would easily pass for a rag-head, especially after period in heat. Touch of tar-brush in ancestry? Personal Notes: Wife and
daughters killed in carbon monoxide poisoning. How will this affect performance? Monitor carefully on return to active service.”’

‘How absolutely cold-blooded and heartless,’ Jessica exclaimed.

Hirst turned another page. ‘You think that’s bad, listen to this. “North, Jessica. Student, intelligent, pretty. Boarding school, final year. TBW. Smith to deal when product available. Acc. Preferred.”’

‘What does that mean? What’s TBW? And what do they mean by product?’

‘Product means you,’ Hirst told her grimly, ‘and the rest is short for: to be wasted. Accident preferred.’

He saw Jessica’s jaw tighten, her shoulders straighten and realized the strength he’d seen before was going to help her through this ordeal. ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked.

‘First of all, I need a photocopier. You can bet these will be the only copies of the disks in existence. That’s why they’re so desperate to find me. They want to retrieve them before they’re deciphered. They also want to kill us both. I’m going to make damned certain they fail at that as well.’

‘There’s a copier in my room,’ Sonya said. ‘It’s one of those all in one things that’s attached to my computer. Will that do?’

‘Perfect, I hope you’ve got plenty of paper. I’m going to need to make two copies of each file. That’s going to need about a hundred and fifty sheets.’

‘No problem,’ Sonya paused and listened. They heard a soft cry. ‘That’s the baby, she’ll want her feed. Come with me, I’ll show you where the copier is.’

‘Show Jessica, I’m going to get the van. It should have enough charge in the batteries by now. I’ll park in the alley behind your house. We should be finished in an hour or so, with luck.’

True to Steve’s estimate, they were on their way before 7 a.m. Sonya hugged Jessica before they left. ‘Good luck,’ she said. ‘If anybody can look after you, Steve will. He’s a good man, and he’s been through a lot. You both have. Don’t forget, if you need anything, at any time, even when this is all over, just let
me know.’ She looked at Hirst. ‘Have you any idea what you’re going to do with that?’ Sonya pointed towards the table, and the documents and disks on it.

‘Not yet.’

‘You want retribution, don’t you?’

Hirst nodded. ‘Why, what have you got in mind?’

‘What about Mr Nash?’

‘Who’s he?’ Jessica asked.

Steve stared at Sonya, taking in the implications of what she’d suggested. Whilst he was thinking, Sonya explained. ‘Mr Nash is the policeman who dealt with Steve. He was very nice, and sympathetic. I think he’d be ideal.’

‘A policeman,’ Jessica sounded alarmed. ‘Won’t that get Steve in trouble? Get all of us in trouble?’

‘Do you care? Do either of you care? Knowing what’s in there? Knowing if their plans had run smoothly both of you would be dead?’

‘Sonya’s right,’ Hirst said at last. ‘It doesn’t matter about us. Not compared to stopping what they’re doing. And I think her idea’s a good one.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘OK, I’ll go along with it.’

‘Will you ring him?’ Hirst asked. ‘As soon as you can? The sooner he sees that stuff, the better.’

‘No problem,’ Sonya reassured him.

Jessica got into the passenger seat, pulled her seatbelt on and draped her coat over her lap. She wasn’t cold, but it concealed the pistol she was gripping. ‘Sonya’s nice,’ she remarked after Steve cleared the outskirts of town. ‘Although I thought we were going to have trouble with her at first.’

‘That was before she knew the truth.’

‘Do you think it was fair, leaving that stuff with her? What if she gets found out? You know, Official Secrets Act stuff?’

‘That wouldn’t apply, not with the crimes they’ve committed. In any case, they have no reason to suspect she’s involved.’

‘What next?’

‘We know Smith’s after me, or at least suspects I’m responsible
for the laboratory break in and kidnapping you. We need to take the heat off, give ourselves a few days’ breathing space. It’ll also give Nash time to act on those files, if he can do anything.’

‘How do we go about that?’

‘By getting Smith to look in another direction.’

‘Stop talking in riddles and explain. What are you going to do?’

‘Nothing. You are, using your computer skills.’

‘It seems we were wrong after all,’ Smith hesitated. ‘It is the animal rights people who are behind this after all.’

‘How do you know?’

‘We put an intercept on Dr North’s phone calls, text messages and e-mails. He received an e-mail late this afternoon. It came via a character who goes by the name of Eco Sounder. But we know the message didn’t originate from him.’

He glanced down at the paper in his hand. ‘The message reads, “Dr North, you are torturing animals. This must stop at once. You may not care about the creatures you are inflicting such suffering on so we’ve taken something you might be concerned about. We are holding your daughter prisoner, as a hostage for your future behaviour. She has not been harmed, YET.”’ Smith looked up. ‘The word, yet, is in capital letters.

‘“You will make a public statement confessing your crimes and stop this barbarous activity immediately. If you fail to do this we cannot guarantee Jessica’s continued good health or her survival even. She is a very pretty girl. It would be a shame to see her scarred for life. But there are other scars that can be inflicted. Particularly on pretty, defenceless girls. These are not threats. They are promises. And they are the very least of the pain we will inflict on her if you fail to comply. And comply with immediate effect.”’

‘Are you certain that message is genuine? Could it be a hoax?’

Smith shook his head. ‘It definitely isn’t a hoax. For one thing, nobody but the kidnapper knows Jessica’s missing. And if I still had any doubts, this removed them.’ He held up the sheet of paper. The photograph on it showed a young girl, definitely
Jessica North, seated on a stool. The background was out of focus but there appeared to be trees in the far distance. Her wrists and ankles were bound with tape. Alongside her was a man, his face obscured by a balaclava. Although his appearance was frightening enough, it was by no means as scary as the pistol he was holding against Jessica’s temple.

‘What do you suggest we do?’

Smith looked from his boss to the photo and back again. ‘I’ve ordered our IT people to trace the origin of the e-mail. Once we have the sender’s IP details, we can pay him a visit. That should enable us to retrieve the North girl and continue with our original plan.’ He stopped and looked at his boss. ‘You still intend to dispose of her?’

‘Of course. It’s even more important than before. Once North’s usefulness is over, he can go too. A clean sweep. His disposal will be easy. An overdose, brought on by grief after losing his family. Then nothing can be traced back to us.’

Smith’s mobile rang. He glanced at the screen. ‘This will be the IT report. Now we’re in business.’ He listened to the caller, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and anger. It changed to disappointment as he spoke. ‘Very well. No, but thank you for trying.’

He disconnected and looked at his boss. ‘They identified the sender’s e-mail account.’

‘And?’

‘According to them, the message originated from Dr North.’

‘That’s impossible.’

Smith vented his exasperation. ‘I know that, you know that, but they’re convinced that’s what happened.’

‘Somebody’s playing games with us.’

‘Yes, and at the moment they’re winning, hands down.’

There was a message waiting for Nash at the station next morning. He glanced at the number, but didn’t recognize it. ‘Did the caller leave a name?’

The receptionist shook her head. ‘She refused to give it. But she said it was vitally important and urgent. She did say,’ the
woman paused, ‘something strange. She said you’d know her when you spoke to her.’

Nash dialled the number when he reached his office.

‘Hello.’ The answer was cautious, to put it mildly.

‘This is Mike Nash. You left me a message.’

‘Thank you for ringing. We met recently. After you’d been escorting someone to the mortuary. Do you remember? If so, please don’t use any names. I’m sorry if this sounds mysterious, but I really don’t trust the phone.’

Sonya Williams, Nash thought. ‘I remember. How can I help?’

‘Would you come straight round? I need to speak to you urgently. Very urgently.’

‘When you say straight round, how soon do you mean?’

‘I mean, now.’

‘I’ll have to leave a message for my sergeant to explain why I’m out.’

‘Please don’t say where you’ve gone.’ Nash caught the note of panic in her voice.

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