The Gulf Conspiracy (24 page)

‘
It sounds like you’re used to this,’ Jane called out.

‘
Not really,’ said Steven distantly. His attention had been caught by a car going past the end of the drive. Unless it was identical to one that had passed a few minutes earlier it was on its second circuit of the area. The thing that chilled him was the fact that it was a blue Range Rover.

‘
Jane,’ he called out.

‘
What?’

‘
Come down, will you?’

‘
I’m not quite fini - ’

‘
Just come down.’

Jane heard something in Steven’s voice that made her comply without any more comment. ‘What is it?’ she asked as she came into the room behind him.

‘
I think we may be about to have company,’ replied Steven without turning away from the window.

‘
You mean we’re too late?’

‘
A blue Range Rover has passed the house twice in the past five minutes. I think it may have been the same one that turned up in the car park in Ramsgate.’

‘
Just tell me what to do,’ said Jane. She sounded calm and collected and it drew a nod of approval from Steven. ‘Make sure all the doors and windows are closed and locked,’ he said. He had barely got the words out before the Range Rover passed the house again, slower this time. Steven saw from behind the curtain that it held two male occupants.

‘
All secure,’ said Jane as she returned.

‘
I think they’ll go for a knock on the door,’ said Steven. ‘With a bit of luck they may not know that I’m here with you. I left the car outside.’

‘
What do you want me to do?’ asked Jane.

‘
When they knock try to delay them. Call out that you’re just coming and then wait for my signal.’

Jane nodded. They were both watching the end of the driveway. After what seemed like an eternity one man appeared at the entrance to the drive. He was wearing a smart suit and carried a briefcase in his right hand. He had a clipboard under his left arm, He put down the briefcase and examined the clipboard as if checking address details.’

‘
Damn,’ said Steven. ‘Where’s the other one? There were two of them in the car.’ He told Jane that he was going to check the back. ‘Keep an eye on him,’ he said. ‘Let me know what’s happening.’

Steven hurried through to the kitchen, keeping his body below window level until he’d reached the far wall where he could straighten up to sneak a sideways look outside. A shadow moved somewhere in the garden and he dropped down again. He thought he understood the plan. The man at the front would divert Jane’s attention while the other gained admission through the back.

Steven pressed himself up against the wall and watched as the figure outside etched a circle in the glass next to the back door with what he guessed was a diamond-tipped marker because of the scratching sound it made. It was done expertly and in one continuous movement, something that gave Steven a clue as to the quality of the opposition he was facing. The man outside stretched sticky tape across the etched circle before tapping it lightly and removing it to leave a hole six inches across.

The doorbell rang and Jane called out, ‘Just a minute.’

Steven watched a man’s arm come in through the hole in the glass and reach up to unlock the Yale. He let him unlock it, and then allowed him to open the door slowly and take his first step inside before catching him hard on the left temple with the butt of his gun. He reached out quickly to grab the man and stop him falling noisily. He lowered the unconscious figure to the ground.

Although he suspected the man would be out for some time, he still searched him quickly for arms and removed an automatic pistol, which he slipped into his jacket pocket. The doorbell rang again he heard Jane call out, ‘Just a minute will you, I’m coming.’

Steven dropped down beside her behind the couch and gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. ‘When I signal, answer the door,’ he whispered. ‘Listen to what he says and then invite him in.’

Steven took up station behind the door, his pistol checked and held at the ready, barrel creating a furrow in his right cheek. He nodded to Jane and she walked over to open the door.

‘
Sorry about that,’ she improvised. ‘I was on the phone.’

‘
Mrs Sebring? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Deveron. I represent . . . Paveright Driveways.’

Steven thought that Jane wasn’t the only one improvising. Deveron would be wondering just where the hell his partner was.

‘
I couldn’t help but notice that you have stone chippings in the drive,’ said Deveron. ‘Have you ever considered a more modern brick-paved one?’

‘
As a matter of fact, I have been thinking about that, Mr Deveron,’ said Jane pleasantly. ‘Why don’t you come in and tell me all about it.’

Deveron took his first step inside and Steven put the barrel of his gun up against his temple. He frisked the man and removed the pistol he was carrying before ordering him to lie down on the floor with his hands behind his head.

‘
Who are you?’ demanded Steven.

‘
You’re making a big mistake, my friend,’ gasped the man on the ground as Steven kept the gun to his temple and went through his pockets.

‘
ID, inside pocket on the left,’ said the man.

Steven flipped open the ID and gave a long sigh.

‘
Just stepped out of your league, huh?’ said the man on the floor.

‘
What is it, Steven?’ Jane asked.

‘
I need something to tie these two up,’ he replied, deliberately ignoring the question.

‘
Would plastic clothes-line do?’

‘
Perfect.’

Jane went to fetch the line and Steven brought out his own ID and showed it to the man on the floor, just allowing him enough leeway to read it.

‘
Sci-Med? What the hell are you doing here?’

‘
The difference between us,’ murmured Steven, ‘is that I know why you are here. Now, who sent you?’

‘
You know I can’t tell you that,’ grunted the man as Steven once more forced his head down on the floor.

‘
Of course not,’ cooed Steven sarcastically. ‘It’ll be a secret.’

‘
For Christ’s sake man,’ said the man on the floor. ‘There’s obviously been some kind of screw-up here. Why don’t you just let me up and we can sort this whole mess out?’

Jane came back into the room and handed the line and a small vegetable knife to Steven who set about tying up the man. He then moved on to his unconscious colleague in the kitchen and did the same to him.

‘
So what now?’ asked the man on the floor when he returned. ‘What’s the point of all this? Why don’t we just get it all sorted out like civilised people?’

‘
Your friend sleeping through there broke into this house,’ said Steven. ‘I’m handing you both over to the police.’

‘
Jesus,’ snorted the man on the floor. ‘What do you think plod’s going to do when he sees our ID?’

‘
He’s not going to see it,’ replied Steven. ‘I’m taking it with me along with your firearms and if one of these guns should happen to be the weapon that put a bullet in Michael D’Arcy you’ll be seeing the Kent Police as well.’

‘
Whose side are you on, Dunbar?’

‘
You know, I sometimes wonder,’ said Steven thoughtfully and looking down at the man as if he were a zoo exhibit. He picked up the house phone and then thought better of it. ‘Maybe not,’ he murmured, changing to his mobile and calling the police.

‘
Ready?’ Steven asked Jane. She replied with a nod of the head.

‘
For Christ’s sake, Dunbar, this is ridiculous,’ complained the man on the floor.

‘
Absolutely,’ said Steven, ushering Jane through the door and closing it behind them.

Jane did not say anything until they were inside the car then she slammed her hand down on Steven’s as he made to put the car into gear. ‘Just what the hell is going on?’ she demanded. ‘You seemed to know these people or they knew you. I want some answers before I go anywhere with you.’

‘
Unless they’re carrying fake ID, they’re MI5,’ said Steven.

Jane looked long and hard at him before saying, ‘Well, pardon me, but aren’t they supposed to be on our side?’

‘
I thought so too,’ said Steven.

‘
Are you seriously saying that it was MI5 trying to kill me?’ asked Jane, her voice betraying the incredulity she felt.

‘
That’s what it looks like.’

‘
Not a Mr “E”?’

‘
There has to be an explanation,’ sighed Steven.

‘
Will I live to hear it?’ said Jane.

‘
I’ll sort it out. I promise.’

At eight in the evening the car park at the Service area on the M1 was relatively quiet, as Donald Crowe had hoped it might be. He had no trouble in parking his Mercedes estate car well away from other vehicles and tested the doors to make sure they were locked after using the remote. Satisfied, he walked over to the Travel Lodge and told the receptionist that he had booked small conference facilities for 8.15pm.

‘
Yes sir, you’re in the Salisbury Room, through there and to the left.’

Crowe followed her directions and found the Salisbury Room where a lectern placed outside frosted glass doors held a peg-board sign announcing the room as being reserved for Mercury Graphics, the name Crowe had booked under. He entered and put his briefcase down on the table before walking slowly around the room. It was designed to seat twelve around a central table and had a slide projector at one end along with several computer points. ‘Courtesy’ notepads had been placed at each position along with complimentary pens carrying the logo of the hotel. It was ideal, thought Crowe. There were only going to be six of them, just another bunch of anonymous reps discussing sales and marketing.

Crowe moved over to the window and opened the vertical blinds slightly. He was in time to see a Toyota Land Cruiser pull up beside his car and Cecil Mowbray get out. He was accompanied by four other men. They all wore dark suits and carried briefcases as requested. Crowe checked his watch. They were right on time.

‘
So this is what it feels like to be a pedlar on the road,’ said Cecil Mowbray as he entered ahead of the others.

‘
As long as that’s what it looks like,’ said Crowe.

‘
You worry too much,’ said Mowbray. He introduced the four others to Crowe as, Mr Brown, Mr Black, Mr Grey and Mr Green. ‘All ex-Special Forces and veterans of the Dark Continent.’

Crowe took this to mean mercenaries. He nodded to the men and opened his briefcase to take out four envelopes and hand one to each. ‘Half your fee, as agreed, gentlemen,’ he said. Next he brought out a map and spread it on the table while the men checked the contents of the envelopes. When they’d finished, Crowe said, ‘Next Tuesday you are going to take part in a military exercise. You will play the part of terrorists; you’ll be up against soldiers of the Territorial Army who will do their best to stop you achieving your objective.’

‘
A toughie then,’ said one of the men to the amusement of the others. Mowbray permitted himself a small smile too. Crowe remained impassive. ‘This is the area of operations,’ he continued. ‘Your target is here, deep in this forest. It’s an aqueduct. The soldiers will be aware that three dangerous terrorists are at large in the area and will be charged with hunting you down while others guard the aqueduct.’

‘
The three terrorists will allow themselves to be captured at times throughout the day which I will specify.

The men looked at each other in puzzlement.

‘
Normal security at the site has been suspended for the duration of the exercise,’ said Crowe. ‘When you leave here I will give you four containers. The terrorists will carry with them on the day of the exercise - the ones with the blue marking. There will however, be one other container with red markings.’

‘
What do we do with that?’ asked Mr Green.

‘
I’m coming to that,’ said Crowe.

When he’d finished, one of the men said, ‘Clever.’

‘
What happens to us after we get captured?’

‘
The exercise will end when the third man is captured. You will then be released.’

‘
And no one will ever know,’ said Mr Brown.

‘
Nothing ever happened,’ said another. ‘A triumph for the Territorials.’

‘
Quite,’ said Crowe. ‘He turned back to the map and said, ‘I suggest you leave your vehicle here and proceed on foot. The rest I leave up to you. I’m told you are the best.’ He picked up an internal phone and said, ‘I think we’ll have our coffee now if you please.’

Fifteen minutes later all six men left the room and meandered out past Reception talking loudly about key accounts and computer graphics. They walked slowly over the car park to the cars where an insulated plastic container of the sort used for keeping beer cool on fishing trips was transferred from Crowe’s car to the back of the Land Cruiser. Crowe and Mowbray said goodbye to the men before driving off together in Crowe’s car.

‘
Well, that all went very smoothly,’ said Mowbray as they exited the car park to join the motorway. ‘I take it you used Everley’s money to pay them?’