Altered Egos (14 page)

‘No problem, she’s used to me being vague.’

Nash arrived twenty minutes later. Sonya Williams opened the door as soon as he got out of the car. ‘Now, what’s the urgency?’ he asked once he was inside her hall.

‘I’ve been entrusted with some information,’ Sonya chose her words carefully. ‘I’m not at liberty to say how, or from whom, but it’s most important that you see it straight away. The person who gave me it was doubtful, but I persuaded them you were completely trustworthy.’

She smiled. ‘I know that sounds odd, you being a policeman, but this information is very sensitive. I think the best thing would be to show you it. Once you’ve seen it, I think you’ll understand.’

‘Very well.’ Nash prided himself on being able to second guess people most of the time, but Sonya’s remarks completely mystified him.

She led the way into the lounge and indicated a chair by the dining table. Nash noticed a collection of papers and some CDs
on the table. ‘Sit there and I’ll show you the stuff. Would you like a coffee before you start?’

Nash smiled. ‘That would be nice.’

Once they were seated, Sonya opened the first of the files and passed it across. He started reading, his curiosity increasing with every line. When he’d finished the files, Sonya passed him a set of loose papers. ‘These are transcripts of what’s on those disks. They’ve been decoded. There’s also a sheet that gives details of the encryption.’

Nash had only read a few lines when he looked up. Sonya could see the effect in his face. Stunned, barely covered the expression. ‘Where did you get these?’

Sonya shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘You’re sure they’re genuine?’

‘If you’ve any doubts, keep reading. There are things in there that prove it. Things only a few people know. I believe some of it refers to an event you’ve been investigating. And it couldn’t have been known, except by the person responsible.’

Nash read through to the end. By the time he’d finished, he was convinced. But despite his pleas, Sonya refused to divulge the source. ‘Now you know why I wanted you to see them straight away. And why I want them out of this house. I know it sounds paranoid, but I’m afraid the people behind this might be watching me. I’ve already had a visit from one of them.’

‘Why was that?’ Nash asked, innocently.

‘He wanted to know….’ Sonya’s voice tailed off as she realized how close she’d come to giving Hirst’s identity away. ‘He wanted some information from me,’ she ended lamely.

‘The information in here’s dynamite, right enough,’ Nash agreed, ‘but at present, I’m not sure how to handle it. First things first though, I’m going to take this stuff with me. Once I get it to the station I’ll lock it in my safe until I can see how to use it.’

The failure to penetrate the laboratory’s defences had left Paul Farley feeling angry and humiliated. The e-mail from his mystery informant hadn’t offered much in the way of comfort. But at least it had offered a solution. As he checked his messages
and saw a new one from the sender’s address, Paul hoped the contents would fulfil that promise.

He opened it up and started to read. His interest sharpened and by the end of the first paragraph, his attention was well and truly hooked. What the sender was proposing was far more radical than anything Paul had envisaged. But it was a great idea. The more he thought about it, the better he liked it. Apart from achieving their original objective, it would restore Paul’s credibility and send an unmistakeable message that they were a force to be reckoned with.

He noted the passage containing a warning about the potential danger, but paid little heed to it. He made careful notes regarding the set up process; he was quite content to obey the instructions to the letter. Yielding overall control didn’t worry him. He was more concerned with the success of the venture. After all, he’d ignored the sender’s advice last time. Jumped the gun through eagerness, the result had been humiliation. This time he’d do as he was told. This time they’d get it right.

As he finished reading the message for a third time, Paul was struck by a random thought. The tone of the message, the instructions and the detailed and careful planning, made it sound almost like a military operation. Paul wondered if the sender had been in the forces at some stage. He returned to the task in hand, dismissing the idea as a fleeting fancy. He was going to be too busy for idle speculation. There were messages to send, people to contact, purchases to be made.

By Friday evening, everything was ready. He’d received confirmation that the equipment would be there. He’d made the booking suggested in the e-mail and paid the rental. Tomorrow evening, St Wilfred’s Church Hall on the outskirts of Helmsdale would act as the meeting place for the activists. Well away from the prying eyes of Nash and any other police officers. Activists would be travelling from all over the north of England. Four of them would be driving the vans they’d hired.

When they were gathered in the hall he’d finally get to meet their new colleague. Paul was looking forward to seeing their benefactor face to face.

Following the incursion into the laboratory and the foiled demonstration by the animal rights group, security at Helm Pharm had been tightened. The area close to the power lines had been cleared of trees that might be used to sabotage the power supply, much to the anger of several landowners whose protests had gone unheeded. The number of guards on site had been increased. With these measures, the security people felt at ease. Four guards patrolled the grounds; two were on duty in the gatehouse, two monitoring events on the CCTV screens in the control room. A further four were on call in the rest room, where they were drinking coffee and watching
Match of the Day
. Confidence was high that there was no possibility of a repeat of the break in. If anyone tried, the guards were sure they had more than sufficient power to repulse such an attack.

Steve and Jessica were sitting at the table in the motorhome. Each had a glass of water and a small blue capsule in front of them. ‘Before we take these, I’ve got to warn you what they do to you. This pill heightens the effect of the others you’ve been taking. It will sharpen your reflexes; make you feel stronger, fitter, more able to tackle any physical task. It will also make you feel invulnerable. That’s the danger. It will give you a bigger high than anything you could buy from a drug dealer. Any of them would pay a fortune for it if they knew what the effects are. You’ll get to think you can tackle anything or anybody, that there’s nothing you can’t achieve. To a certain extent, you’ll be right, but there are limitations. The limitations imposed by your own physique. So, don’t think you can go tackle an eighteen stone judo black belt. It makes you stronger – it doesn’t make you invincible.

‘The effect of the drug will stay in your system for twenty-four hours. Be prepared for that. There’s another pill that prolongs the effect, but we won’t need that. Nor will you need to sleep. Your stamina will be increased phenomenally. In fact you’ll be hyper until the medication is completely out of your system. That’s why you’ve got to take plenty of fluids. Flush it away. All right?’

They raised their glasses, toasting the success of the venture, swallowed the capsules and drank the water.

St Wilfred’s was like many church halls around the county. A large main hall contained a stage capable of producing small
amateur concerts and shows, with a couple of large side rooms and a kitchen.

The group that gathered in the main hall that Saturday was as different from the Women’s Institute meeting the previous night as could be imagined. They weren’t seated, the chairs having been stacked around the walls. Instead they were standing in small groups, chattering and speculating about the possible outcome of that night’s adventure.

A fair number expressed reservations, citing the inglorious end to their previous attempt at the laboratory. Others were telling colleagues of the purchases they’d been asked to make, the purpose of which seemed evident. The method was what they couldn’t understand. They knew they had the means to get in, but how would security be overcome?

Paul hovered close to the stage, his anxiety increasing as the minutes passed and the time of the meeting got closer. Doubts crept in. He’d only the e-mailer’s word that this wasn’t a hoax. If they had been set up…. His brain whirled with the horrendous possibility of such a scenario. His eyes searched the crowd, for the umpteenth time. He knew everyone in the hall. No sign of their mystery informant yet. Every time the door opened, Paul looked across, his hopes increasing. Seconds later, as he recognized the new arrival, his disappointment was visible.

He glanced at the clock above the stage. It was time for the meeting to start. Where was their new colleague? It wouldn’t be a good start if he was late. As he was fretting, the hall lights went out and the stage curtains opened. A spotlight illuminated the figure standing at the back, centre stage, dressed from head to toe in black, his face obscured by a balaclava. Several female activists clutched at the arm of their nearest companion, in momentary panic at this terrifying sight. The figure on the stage stepped forward.

‘The plan is simple.’ The voice was male, strong enough to be heard clearly by the silent crowd. ‘When the lights at Helm Pharm go out, the four of you with bolt cutters will attack the fences where you were instructed. As soon as you’ve created a big enough gap, the team that go in should head straight for the
laboratory. Your task is to get there without coming into contact with the security staff. Avoid them where you can. The doors to the laboratory are electronic; they will have been disabled long before you reach them. From the time you get to the laboratory you have fifteen minutes to remove all the animals. After that I cannot guarantee your survival, let alone your safety. That means you do not have time to release the animals. What you must do is pick up the cages with the animals still inside. Take one in each hand, go back to the fence where the other team will be waiting to take them from you and store them in the vans. We estimate you’ll have time for two, possibly three trips each.’

‘We,’ Paul wondered, who did he mean by ‘we’?

‘What about the guards?’ one of the activists called out.

‘They’ll be running around in the dark like headless chickens. They’ll have plenty to worry about, believe me. I should warn you, there will be several loud explosions whilst you’re carrying out your task. Ignore them; they’re designed to divert attention away from you. Now, did everyone make the purchases you were asked to?’

There was a confused babble of sound. The man on stage held up one hand. ‘Show me.’

The activists held up their hands. The man on stage scanned them. He pointed to one man. ‘Where’s your balaclava?’

‘Didn’t get one. I’m not hiding my face. I want them to see me. I want them to recognize me. I’m proud of who I am, of what I do.’

There was a mutter of sound from those around him, not unsympathetic. ‘If you’re not prepared to cover your face, you don’t go in,’ the man on stage told him calmly.

‘Oh yes, and who do you think is going to stop me?’ the objector sneered.

The man on stage didn’t reply, but the dissenter felt a sharp dig in his ribs and looked round. Another figure clad all in black was standing alongside him, proffering a tin of shoe polish and a soft cloth.

The objector looked down and his face drained of colour. He’d been prepared to argue the point, eager almost: but not
with someone holding a gun. As more and more of the activists realized what the intruder was holding, they backed away, leaving a widening circle of space. As all attention was on the gun, nobody noticed that the man on the stage had disappeared. Seconds later, the hall was plunged into darkness. The blackout lasted a few seconds. When the lights came back on the activists looked round. Of the man on stage and the gunman in the hall, there was no sign.

‘How did you know? About the shoe polish, I mean?’ Jessica asked as they drove away.

‘Stands to reason. They’re a bolshie lot, otherwise they wouldn’t be involved in this sort of activity. I knew someone wouldn’t kow-tow. I was surprised it was only one. But he soon toed the line when he saw you waving the gun around.’

He pulled to a halt at the end of a quiet lane. There were no houses within a hundred yards. They waited for a second. ‘Ideal spot,’ he told her. ‘Very little chance of being disturbed.’

‘Won’t it look suspicious? I mean, if anyone did see us? A man walking his dog for instance.’

Steve laughed. ‘I doubt it. They’d think it was a courting couple.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Come on.’

They got out of the van and looked at their target. The small building looked impregnable behind a heavy duty steel fence. The gate was secured by three locks, any of which would have kept a burglar busy for the best part of an hour. ‘Ready?’

‘Let’s do it.’ Excitement bubbled in Jessica’s voice.

She watched him walk to the gate. A few seconds later he returned. They went back to the van and climbed in. Steve saw the expression on her face before the courtesy light went out and suppressed a smile. He knew that look. ‘Make the call.’

She pressed Short Code 1 on her mobile. A second later they heard a sharp crack, followed instantly by a bright flash of light. What remained of the gate was lying on the ground, a twisted heap of scrap metal. ‘That’s one mobile phone gone,’ Steve observed as they stepped over the wreckage.

‘You should have seen the salesman’s face when I bought
them,’ Jessica laughed. ‘I told him they were Christmas presents for next year.’

‘Naturally, doesn’t everyone go Christmas shopping in January?’ He was inspecting the door as he spoke. ‘No need for plastic on this, they obviously thought the gate was a strong enough deterrent. Shine the torch on the lock. I’ll have it open in a couple of minutes.’

True to his word, they were soon inside. She played the torch beam over the interior. ‘So that’s what one of these looks like.’

He moved closer, there was very little room. ‘Shine the torch over there.’ He pointed to the corner. ‘I’m going to have to squeeze past. I need to be in there.’

As he pushed against her, Jessica could smell his scent, clean and masculine. It was as if all her senses were heightened, whether by the excitement, the drug, or both, she wasn’t sure.

He strapped a larger block of explosive to a heavy steel structure, attached another mobile phone to it and stood up. ‘Job done,’ he told her. ‘Let’s get clear. Douse the light as soon as you get hold of the door handle.’

As they climbed back into the van she looked at the clock on the dashboard. ‘Ten minutes to get to the laboratory,’ she said.

Steve started the engine. ‘Plenty of time.’

When they were on the approach road leading to Helm Pharm, he said, ‘Make the call.’

She pressed Short Code 2 on the mobile. Seconds later she saw a brilliant flash of light in her wing mirror. Almost immediately, the street lights went out. Taking out the electricity substation would black out Helm Pharm and neutralize the electronic lock controls, leaving the doors open. The laboratory that had seemed secure, was again a soft target.

After the strangers left, the activists had indulged in an agonizing, short and, at times, vicious debate as to whether to continue the attempt. Paul had settled the matter. ‘What do we care if one of them has a gun? Better to have someone like that on our side than against us. What matters most to you, the fact that somebody’s got a weapon, or what we came for? To liberate
the creatures those bastards are tormenting.’

That effectively ended any opposition. Even as Paul spoke, the leading objector, the one who’d refused to buy a balaclava was opening the tin of shoe polish. When the others saw him begin to smear his face, that was that.

At exactly the time specified in the e-mail, Paul heard an explosion in the distance. The night sky to the north was illuminated by a bright flash. Seconds later, the security lights on the Helm Pharm buildings died out, the bulbs waning to a dull glow, before disappearing completely. The street lights went out at the same instant, leaving total darkness. Exactly as promised.

Paul put on his balaclava and fixed the night vision goggles over his eyes. ‘Bolt cutters, off you go,’ he spoke in an urgent whisper, restraining the impulse to shout.

Unseen in the darkness, a vehicle, lights out, pulled up nearby. Before Steve and Jessica got out, he flicked a switch in the panel over the rear view mirror. ‘What’s that?’ Jessica asked.

‘Turning off the courtesy light,’ he explained briefly.

They stood for a moment in front of the van. ‘I’m going to deal with the gatehouse,’ he told her. ‘You know what to do.’

When the lights went out the two men in the gatehouse contacted the control room via their radios. ‘Hold your position,’ they were told. ‘The fence will keep intruders at bay. Wait for further orders. It may be nothing more than a power cut.’

They waited. The night was silent. Time passed. Nothing moved. ‘I don’t like this,’ one of the guards said. ‘Without lights we’re helpless. There could be an army out there for all we know.’

Seconds later, they heard a noise. The merest whisper of sound. Like someone scratching. ‘Is that you?’ one of the guards asked his colleague.

‘No, I thought it was you.’

As he spoke they felt a sudden chill and the sound of the hatch window opening. This was followed by a thud, and the sound of the window closing. Before the guards could work out that someone had slipped a screwdriver under the sill and prised the window open, there was a sudden flash of light
followed by a deafening thunderclap. As the sound died away the kiosk was filled with thick, choking smoke.

Blinded, disorientated, their hearing gone and their breathing laboured, the guards stumbled from their prison, reeling in dizzy gyrations as they sucked greedily at the clean, cold night air.

Steve was halfway to his destination by then, having dived through the nearest hole cut in the fence. He sprinted towards the office block. As he reached the front door, he heard a loud explosion from the rear. He grinned, it sounded as if Jessica was enjoying herself. He plunged into the dark building.

As Steve was attacking the gatehouse, Jessica had slipped through the fence unnoticed – just another balaclava-clad figure waiting to rescue the caged animals. Once inside the perimeter, she peeled away from the others and headed for the rear of the office block. She flicked her torch on for a brief moment, locating her target. She doused the light, waited a second, then replaced her goggles. She dropped to her knees and felt along the hard metal surface of the manhole cover. She found the lifting plate and slid a screwdriver through it. She placed the block of C4 alongside the tap and replaced the cover before running round the corner of the building. She took the mobile from her pocket and pressed Short Code 3. The explosion was followed by a few seconds of silence. Jessica had put her gloved hands over her ears, anticipating the blast. She heard the patter of water, like a fountain playing on leaves. Steve had explained that they needed to cut off the water so the sprinkler systems wouldn’t work. ‘Why not turn the stop tap off?’ she’d asked.

He’d shaken his head. ‘Too much of a gamble. It’s no good getting to it and finding the tap’s rusted up, or too stiff to move.’

Any doubt that the loss of the lights might be accidental was dispelled by the explosion at the gatehouse and the blast to the rear of the offices. As the guards patrolling the grounds reported intrusions from all four sides of the compound, the head of security lifted the phone to summon assistance. Neither man in the control room heard the door open. As quietly as it had opened, it closed a split second later. In the corridor, Steve counted to five, hands over his ears. Then he watched as the
men stumbled out, suffering as their colleagues in the gatehouse had done. He remembered Jessica’s face when he displayed the trophies he’d lifted in the raid on the munitions store. ‘What are they?’ she’d asked.