Authors: Andy McNab

Remote Control (42 page)

BOOK: Remote Control

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‘Why was that?’ I was finding it hard to stay calm.

Big Al shrugged. ‘Some big drama with the locals. I think they now run it from South Africa instead, into the west coast of Spain, something like that. They’re linked in with some other terrorists up there.’

‘ETA?’

‘Search me. Some bunch of terrorists or freedom fighters. Call them what you like, to me they’re all just dealers. Anyway, they help the Irish now. No doubt old Raoul sorted things out Stateside with Daddy’s boss to ensure that the route to Florida stayed open for the Irish, because otherwise the Colombians would have given it to someone else.’

‘You make it sound like allocating air routes or something.’

Big Al shrugged again. ‘Of course. It’s business.’ He spoke as if all this stuff was common knowledge. It was news to me.

So who the fuck were PIRA talking to in Gibraltar? Were they there in an attempt to keep the drug trafficking going? It came back to me that, in September 1988, Sir Peter Terry, who’d been instrumental in pressing for a crackdown on drug smuggling, and who’d been governor of Gibraltar until earlier that year, had narrowly survived an assassination attempt at his home in Staffordshire. A gunman, who’d never been caught, had given him the good news with twenty rounds from an AK47 – something, as it happened, that Mr McGear was not unaccustomed to doing. Maybe the fourth man in the photograph was getting a similar warning? And was there some sort of connection between the ending of the drug runs and the shooting of PIRA players there just a few months later?

Whatever, it confirmed that there were some strange things going on with some members of the DEA, including Kev’s boss. Maybe they were getting a cut of the action from PIRA and Kev found out?

Big Al sucked through his teeth once more. ‘You’ve got a brilliant package here, my man. So which one are you going to blackmail?’

‘Blackmail?’

‘Nicky – you’ve got a senior figure in the DEA, talking with big-cheese cartel members, your terrorist boys and Gibraltar government, law enforcement, whatever. You’re not trying to tell me these pictures aren’t for the purposes of blackmail? Get real. If you’re not going to use them, then whoever took these photographs certainly is.’

We went through all the pictures one more time. Kelly didn’t recognize any more of the people.

I asked de Sabatino if there was any way we could enhance the photography.

‘What’s the point? You seem to know everybody.’ He was right. I just wanted Kelly to look at ‘Daddy’s boss’ more closely.

There was silence for about three minutes as we just kept on flicking through.

‘What else do you know about Gibraltar?’ I asked.

‘Not much. What more do you want?’ His second cigar was well on its way, and Kelly was waving away the smoke. ‘It’s common sense – if you’ve got enough money, do a deal with the Colombians and get the stuff into Europe. Every other bunch of badasses is doing it, so why not your Irish boys?’

Big Al was looking at me as if what we’d stumbled across was very mundane. And I had to admit it didn’t seem enough for Kev and his family to have been murdered for.

There was too much silence; Big Al had to inject something. ‘Whatever, someone is definitely in the blackmail biz.’

I wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was some kind of insurance for PIRA. If Kev’s boss or the Gibraltarians decided not to play any more, maybe this was what would keep them in the game.

I looked at Kelly. ‘Can you do us a favour? Will you go and get some cans of drink?’

She looked happy to get out of the smoke. I followed her to the door and pulled the curtain so I could see the machines. The landing was clear; the boys’ door was closed, but the music still hammered through the thin plaster walls; inside, no doubt, the cheerleaders were running through a few routines. I watched Kelly until she reached the machines, then sat down on the bed. Big Al was still playing with the laptop.

I pointed at the screen. ‘First Kev is killed. Now we’ve got Daddy’s boss mixing with the cartels. It’s reasonable to assume that what we’ve got here is corruption within the DEA, involving drug movements via Florida to Irish terrorists, who’ve been getting it into Europe via Gibraltar. Only now it seems there were some problems for them in late ’87.’

Big Al wasn’t really listening. The thought of a corrupt DEA officer had taken him to another planet. ‘Way to go! You gonna stitch the bastard?’

‘I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

‘Fucking stitch him, Nicky! I hate cops! I hate the DEA! I hate every fucker who’s ruined my life. I have to live like a fucking hermit. Federal Witness Programme, kiss my ass!’

I was worried that 5 years of frustration were about to explode out of him. I had no time for that. ‘Frankie, I need a car.’

He wasn’t listening. ‘They used me, then they just fucked me over . . .’

‘I need a car.’

He slowly came back to earth. ‘Sure, OK, for how long?’

‘Two days, maybe three. And I need some money.’

‘When do you want it by?’

‘Now.’

Big Al was weird and a sad fuck, too soft and stupid to be in this sort of world, but I felt sorry for him. Me turning up must have been the best thing that had happened to him in years. Life must be shit with no friends, and always worrying about being hit. But that was how mine was going to be if I didn’t get this stuff back to Simmonds.

Big Al used the room phone to call a car hire company. It would take about an hour to deliver a vehicle, so the three of us strolled to an ATM. He drew out $1,200 from four different accounts. ‘You never know when you’re going to need
mucho dinero
in a hurry!’ he grinned. Maybe he wasn’t so stupid after all.

Back in the room, waiting for the car, I could sense there was more to come from him. He’d definitely been brooding on something for the last half-hour.

‘Would you like to make some money, Nicky – real money?’

I was checking my bag to make sure I hadn’t left anything.

‘Why’s that? Are you going to give me some?’

‘Sort of.’ He came and stood by me as I zipped the bag closed. ‘On those files there are some account numbers stuffed with lovely narco-dollars. Give me two minutes to access the stuff I need and then I can hack in. I can do that shit in my sleep.’ He put an arm around me. ‘Nick, two minutes on my laptop and we could be talking serious enrichment. What do you think?’ His head was nodding at 1000 r.p.m., his eyes never leaving mine.

I let him sweat a bit. ‘How do I know that you’ll pay me my half?’ I thought I’d let him know how much I wanted.

‘I can transfer it anywhere you want. And don’t worry, once I’ve moved it, they’ll never know where it’s gone.’

I had to smile. The one thing Frank de Sabatino was good at was hiding money. ‘C’mon, Nicky Two, what do you say!’ He had his arms wide open and was looking at me like a child who’d done wrong.

I gave him the time he needed with the laptop and wrote down the account number for him to transfer my share to. Fuck it, Kelly was going to need money for school and stuff, and I wanted a payback for working against these people for so many years. It felt good and, anyway, it was just business.

He finished. There was a serious, down-to-work look on his face. ‘Where are you going now?’ he asked.

‘I’m not going to tell you; you know the score. People that I’ve been in contact with are now dead and I don’t want that to happen to you.’

‘Bullshit!’ He looked at Kelly and shrugged his shoulders. ‘You just don’t want me to know in case I go blurting off to somebody.’

‘That’s not the case,’ I said, though in fact it was. ‘If you did that, or didn’t send the money, you know what I’d do.’

He raised an eyebrow.

I looked at him and smiled. ‘I’d make sure the right people know where you are.’

The colour drained from his face for a while, then back came the watermelon. He shook his head. ‘I may have been out of the loop for a while, but I see nothing has changed.’

The telephone rang. The blue Nissan was waiting outside reception. Big Al signed for it and gave me the customer copy of the agreement for when I dropped it off. Kelly and I got in, Big Al stayed on the sidewalk with his briefcase. I pressed the switch to open the windows. The bass rap still played in the background.

‘Listen, Al, I’ll e-mail you to make sure you know where the car’s been dropped off, OK?’

He nodded slowly. It was sinking in that he was about to lose us.

‘Do you want a lift anywhere?’

‘No, I’ve got work to do. By the morning we could be rich, big time.’

We shook hands through the open window. Al smiled at Kelly and said, ‘Make sure you come and visit Uncle Al in about ten years’ time, little lady. I’ll buy the ice cream!’

We set off slowly down the strip. It was still packed. There was so much neon the street lighting was superfluous.

Kelly was in the back, staring out of the window, then gazing into space, lost in her own little world. I didn’t tell her that ahead of us lay a 700-mile drive.

Soon Daytona was behind us and we were back on the long, open road. As I drove, I mulled over Kev’s words again: ‘You won’t believe the stuff I’ve got here. Your friends over the water are busy.’ And he’d also said, ‘I’ve just started the ball rolling on something, but I’d be interested to know what you think.’ Did that mean he’d spoken to his boss? Had his boss then got him zapped? But there was no way Kev would have been talking to anyone in the DEA if he suspected corruption. So who the fuck did he call?

I had some valuable stuff from the PIRA office, a lot of which I didn’t understand, but maybe Kev had more. The more information I got hold of, the better it was going to be for me when I got it to Simmonds, and that was why we were going back to Washington.

Once on the interstate I put the car on to cruise control and my mind into neutral.

We drove through the night, stopping only to refuel and for a caffeine fix to keep me awake at the wheel. I bought cans of Coke to keep the levels topped up as we drove and in case Kelly woke up.

At first light I could begin to make out changes in the terrain, proof that we were moving north into a more temperate climate. Then the sun came up, a big burning ball in my half-right position, and my eyes started to sting.

We stopped at another gas station to fill up. This time Kelly stirred. ‘Where are we?’ she yawned.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, where are we going?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Tell me about your wife,’ she said.

‘It seems so long ago I can hardly remember.’

I looked in the mirror. She’d slumped back down, too tired to pursue it. Or maybe she was suffering from terminal boredom, and who could blame her?

I wanted to have one hit on Kev’s to see what he had, and I wanted to make entry at last light tonight. I knew there’d be a secure area somewhere in the house – exactly where, we’d have to find out. After that I wanted to be out of the Washington area again before first light. Big Al didn’t know it yet, but he was going to get his ass into gear and help us out of the US. If he didn’t do it voluntarily, I’d be giving him a bump start.

By mid-morning Kelly was wide awake, reading a magazine I’d got her at the last stop. She was lying in the back, shoes off, totally absorbed. We hadn’t talked. We were in a world of empty sweet wrappers, polystyrene coffee cups, crisp packets and bottles of Coke with bits of crisp floating in them.

‘Kelly?’

‘Mm?’

‘You know in your house Daddy had a hidey-hole for you and Aida?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, do you know if Daddy had any hidey-holes for important things like money, or where Mummy would keep her rings? Did he have a special place where they’d put stuff?’

‘Sure, yeah, Daddy’s got his own special place.’

Busying myself with the cruise control, I said, ‘Oh, and where is that, then?’

‘In his den.’

Which made sense. But that was the room that had been well fucked over.

‘Where is it exactly?’

‘In the wall.’

‘Whereabouts?’

‘In the wall! I saw Daddy doing it once. We’re not allowed in there, but the door was open and we’d just come in from school and we saw Daddy putting something in there. We were standing right by the door and he didn’t know.’

‘Is it behind the picture?’ I asked, though there was no way he’d be that bone.

‘No, it’s behind the wood.’

‘The wood?’

‘The wood.’

‘Could you show me?’

‘Is that where we’re going?’ She suddenly sat bolt upright. ‘I want Jenny and Ricky!’

‘We can’t see them when we get there because they’ll be busy.’

She looked at me as if I was mad. ‘They’re my teddies, I’ve told you! They’re in my bedroom. Can’t I get them? They need me.’

BOOK: Remote Control

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