To Kill a Grey Man (11 page)

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Authors: D C Stansfield

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Spies & Politics, #Assassinations, #Thriller, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: To Kill a Grey Man
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Chapter 15

The Hunt

 

Keith Poole sat in front of John Sea inside the goldfish bowl office
at the golf club.
 
John Sea was livid and
Keith had never seen him like this.
 
Sea
was normally so in control.

 

“Let’s just get this right, shall we?” screamed John.
 
“Not one, not fucking one did you get!
 
I sent you after four tossers, three old men
and a boy and nothing.
 
For Christ sake
one of them is FUCKING blind!”
 
He came
up close to Keith, “You are so lucky I need you or you would be dead now.”

“Look,” said Keith.
 
“They
must have known, been tipped off.
 
Someone
is playing a double game.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.
 
They
were just better than you, even the boy.”

“What’s next?” said Keith, eager to change the subject.

“I assume The Grey Man will want to find out the damage to his eyes.
 
And let me tell you if he gets his eyesight
back, you and I are dead.
 
Right?”

Keith Poole could smell John Sea’s fear and thought his boss had
lost it.

“We need every consultant, every eye hospital under surveillance.
 
Anywhere that he can find help,” continued
John Sea.
 
“How many men can we conjure
up?”

“Today, probably around one hundred to go looking.
 
To
actually do the killing, no more than twenty.”

“Okay,” said John Sea a little calmer.
 
“Put a plan together.
 
Two men at every possible
location.
 
I want the killers
split into three teams.
 
Divide the
country up and have them based near every major eye hospital.”

“This will leave a lot of holes.”

“Leave that to me.
 
I will get
help.”

 

As soon as Keith left the room John Sea took out his laptop, booted
it up and put in a security password.
 
Up
came a list of the cream of the criminal underworld operating in the UK.
 
He prayed that The Grey Man and friends had
not gone overseas.

 

The first call was to Sumi Khan in North London who ran most of the
illegal business there.
 
Sumi
was fortyish, short and balding.
 
He dressed in smart suits and drove a silver
grey Bentley coupe which he changed every year.
 
He spoke with a light Indian accent and knew
London like the back of his hand.

“Hello
Sumi
,” said John Sea.

“Hello
Mr
Sea,” said
Sumi
.
 

 

Whilst John Sea was not in Sir Thomas’s league he was still one of
the known men in the UK underground and highly respected so
Sumi
knew you did not mess around with him.
 
“What can I do for you?”

 

John Sea liked this, no preamble, no dancing around, straight to the
point attitude.
 
“I have a business
proposition.
 
A bit of
private business with a decent pay day.”

“Always interested in working with you
Mr
Sea,” replied
Sumi
.

“I am emailing you four photographs and descriptions,” said John
Sea.
 
He used the ones from the briefcase
he got from Sir Thomas as well as pictures of Jonathan which had been shot
without Jonathan knowing.
 
“I want these
men found and killed.”

“Okay.
 
If they are in London
it will be no problem.”

“One hundred grand per man found, one million per man dead and a two
million bonus if you get all four.
 
Okay?” said John Sea.

“Wow!
 
You must really want
these men dead.
 
Hey, no problem at those
prices,” said
Sumi
smiling.

“One of them needs an eye operation so it might be worth you
concentrating there but they must be holed up in a flat or house and three old
men and a boy will look odd,” continued John Sea.

“Leave it with me,” said
Sumi
confidently.
 
“If they are in London, I
will find them.”

 

John Sea rang off and repeated the call a further five times to the
top men in the UK before he gathered himself and phoned Sir Thomas Robertson
who was waiting for the call.

“We have a problem,” said John Sea.

“I know.” said C.
 
“The Firm
is currently carting away ten dead bodies and I have a country house spread
over the next county.
 
You are very close
to being the eleventh body today in the clear up.”

“Look,” said John Sea quickly.
 
“If The Grey Man gets his eyesight back he will track and kill both of
us.
 
Make no mistake, you need me.”

“Unfortunately too true,” said C.

“What help can you give?” asked John Sea.

“Not a lot.
 
I am working
behind the scenes to get control of The Firm and cannot show my hand yet.
 
The best I can do is report The Grey Man
missing, possibly kidnapped and to let The Firm know they are not to follow any
of his orders or any orders from the others until they have been verified by me.
 
This at least stops The Firm from helping
them.”

“I can also keep the police off your back as long as your guys do
not walk around brandishing weapons.
 
Any
problems, they are to ask to get the police to call this number.”
 
He gave the number to John Sea.
 
“The police will be told your guys are
working for me but try to not use this number too often.”

“Now I suggest that you get off your backside and get this job
finished ASAP.
 
Okay?” finished C and then
the phone went dead.

 

Chapter 16

The Hideout

 

Collins drove to Surge’s pub after picking up Jonathan.
 
Surge was standing outside looking fit and
well.
 
He wore smart jeans, a checked
shirt and a dark blue windcheater.
 
He
was a powerfully built man with short
greying
hair.
 
Collins knew he was in his mid-fifties but he
looked ten years younger.
 
Surge threw
his large black sports bag in the boot and jumped in.

 

Collins drove as fast as he dared following the co-ordinates to The
Grey Man’s house.
 
As they got closer
they could see a host of police cars and a lone ambulance surrounding what was
left of the house.
 
They stopped half a
mile up the road and went into the sparse woods and spread out calling out
softly.
 
After ten minutes Jonathan
almost tripped over The Grey Man.
 
He was
huddled up under a load of branches and it was only his shoe sticking out that
gave him away.

 

Jonathan helped him to his feet and Collins rushed over to take his
arm and walked him to the car.
 
Luckily
it was not too cold a day but The Grey Man was now in his mid-sixties and
laying
in damp grass had not been good for him.
 
He looked terribly, old and sad with an
expression across his face of bewilderment and loss.

 

Collins knew that The Grey Man hated to be touched, abused as a
child it had stayed with him all his life, so he guided him with light touches
to his elbow while telling him what obstacles to avoid.
 
Surge carried The Grey Man’s escape bag.

 

Once in the Range Rover Surge asked, “Where to?”

Collins replied, “Sorted.
 
I
have a nice safe house on the south coast.
 
I bought it twenty five years ago and no one knows it belongs to me.
 
It is big and roomy but best of all off the
beaten track.
 
As far as possible, we
should be safe there.”
 
Everyone looked
in agreement so Collins set off.

 

Jonathan sat in the front passenger seat in shock.
 
They had just been hunted and now were on the
run with a car full of weapons and ammunition.
 
This was surreal to him.
 
However
his three companions did not look in the least put out and he could swear both
his dad and Surge were enjoying themselves.
 
As for The Grey Man, he sat in silence
facing out of the darkened window.
 
He
was now blind and Jonathan assumed he must be in shock.

 

They drove all afternoon mostly in silence, each man full of his own
thoughts, the sunlight breaking through occasionally on a mostly grey overcast
day.
 
Finally they drove into the seaside
town of Bournemouth and down through to the spit of land called Sandbanks which
housed the most expensive real estate in the world and onto a one-way street
where you could see the sea on both sides through the gaps in the huge houses.
 
The road ended in front of a small chain
linked ferry which covered the short distance across the mouth of the bay.
 
On the right was the picturesque Brown Sea Island,
owned by the National Trust and on the left, the English Channel.
 
As always the
ferry was a
model of efficiency and the twenty cars or so were
loaded in seconds.
 
The ferry took no more than five minutes to
cross the water but the sound and the smell of the sea filled the car.

 

They drove on through the tiny one man toll booth and then almost
enjoyed the delightful drive into the best of the British countryside, sandy
beaches on the left and rolling hills on the right.
 
As they came to the top of the hill they
could see the quaint old seaside town of Swanage in front of them.
 
Nestled in a bay, the town had hardly changed
in centuries, just the pubs and restaurants periodically having makeovers.
 
The modern houses were of a sandy
coloured
brick, the older houses in Tudor decor covered in
white plaster with black, heavy oak beams.
 
The sea front was lined with shops and amusements arcades, cafes and ice
cream
parlours
all curving round to the small
Victorian pier that jutted out into the sea.

 

The dim sunlight, salty sea smell in the air and the noisy seagulls
gave everything a holiday feel and Jonathan remembered as a young boy playing
with his mother on the sandy beach below.

 

Collins drove through the small High Street with its old fashioned
shops then up a high hill and turned left.
 
Here were some imposing houses set back from the road with long driveways.
 
Halfway down the road he pulled sharply left
into a drive through two white brick columns that gave little clearance to the
Range Rover, onto a gravel path that curved round.
 
To the left of them was an immaculately
manicured lawn and in front of them was a large Edwardian house with huge sash
windows.
 
Joined to the house was a large
treble garage and huge conifer trees surrounded the whole property giving a
high degree of privacy.

 

Collins got out of the car but left it running.
 
He walked to the side of the house where
there was a box with an old fashioned mechanical wheeled lock.
 
He spun the wheels and a flap dropped down.
 
Inside were keys and a fob for the garage.
 
He opened the garage door and drove inside
closing the door behind him.

 

Surge and Jonathan grabbed all the bags and Collins helped The Grey
Man out of the car and through the internal door directly into the house.

 

The house was clean, dry and aired.
 
Collins explained, “I rent this place out a few times a year hence the
external key lock and I have a letting agency in the town to keep the place
maintained.”

 

They walked through into the large lounge with big, brown
comfortable leather sofas and a large flat screen television.
 
Collins opened the heavy dark curtains that
covered the huge panoramic windows.
 
In
front of them was a beautiful view of the sea with Swanage town on their left.

 

There was also a pair of French doors that opened onto a small
garden with a gazebo complete with wooden recliners for taking in the sun.
 
It was all quite delightful and Surge could
imagine lazy days lying in the sun enjoying the view.

 

“Right,” said Collins throwing open the French doors to let in some
air.
 
“I think we need to get some food
in and then have a council of war.
 
Surge
would you and Jonathan
get
the shopping and could you
give Jonathan a quick training course on survival?” he added, smiling.

“No problem,” said Surge.

“Right.
 
What do we need?” he said and they ran
through a basic shopping list.
 
There was
plenty of tinned food in the kitchen so it was mainly fresh food that was
needed.

 

Surge, Collins and Jonathan had a few changes of clothing but The
Grey Man had very little so Surge took his measurements and wrote them down.
 
“Anything else?” he said looking round.

 

The Grey Man who had been very quiet said, “Jonathan, how computer
literate
are
you?”

“I am okay,” he said.
 
“I
built my own system a few years ago so I know the basics.”

“Good and are you willing to be my eyes for a time?”

“Sure.”

“Excellent.
 
Are you on-line
here?”

“Yes,” said Collins.
 
“The latest broadband.”

“Right,” said The Grey Man.
 
“I am going to need a decent laptop and a few bits and pieces.”
 
He dictated a list to Jonathan.
 
“Nothing fancy.
 
Just the type of laptop any electrical store
should have.”

 

Surge and Jonathan set out to walk to the town centre whilst Collins
made The Grey Man and
himself
black coffee and
settled into the lounge.
 
It was
disconcerting watching The Grey Man come to terms with his blindness.
 
A ferociously independent man, The Grey Man
had never relied upon anyone but himself all his life.
 
He had built up observation skills better
than any man Collins had known and was a genius on the computer.
 
To see him helpless was heartbreaking.
 
“How are you doing?” Collins asked gently.

 

The Grey Man looked in his direction.
 
“Not too bad,” he said.
 
“I can see light and rough shapes so I know I
have some hope of getting my vision restored.
 
I just need to work out what I am now capable of and make sure I am not
a burden to you all.
 
My mind is still
clear and that has always been my best tool.
 
I just need a bit of time to re-adjust.”

 

They sat for a while in a companionable silence.
 
Then the Grey Man said,

“I need to ask you a question and will stand by your answer.”

“Sure,” said Collins.

The Grey Man went on.
 
“I cannot teach Jonathan what I know in a short time but I can help him
gain access to a number of computers that will help us find who is hunting us.
 
However, as you know, people have been after
me all my life for the knowledge I possess in regards to The Firm.
 
If it gets known I trained Jonathan he may
get hunted as well.
 
Are you prepared to
put him in such danger?”

 

Collins thought for a moment.
 
He looked out the large window to the sea
beyond.
 
A huge black cloud crossed in
front of the sun turning the blue water black.

 

“Jonathan is already in danger,” he said quietly.
 
“I have tried to protect him but as soon as I
took him on the mission to find his mother’s killer I knew I had set his feet
upon a path there was no going back on.
 
My only hope is to train him and train him well and then see where life
sends him.”

 

.
  
.
  
.
  
.
  
.
  
.

 

Surge and Jonathan started the walk into town in silence.
 
Then Surge turned to Jonathan and declared,

“I have come to a decision.”

“What’s that?” said Jonathan.

“I have decided to adopt you,” said Surge.

“Oh,” said Jonathan, taken aback.
 
“My dad might have something to say about that.”

 

Surge smiled.
 
It was such a
rare occurrence that it almost surprised Surges’ own face and stopped Jonathan
in his tracks.

“I cannot remember my family,” continued Surge.
 
“I lost them so many years back, so I guess
you, your dad and The Grey Man are all I have.
 
They are the best men I have come across so it is just you I have to
worry about and so I have decided to take you under my wing.”

“What if I do not want to be trained?” said Jonathan.

“You have no choice.
 
You learn
what we can teach or you will die.
 
The
people hunting us will stop at nothing and I for one want to survive.
 
It would be nice to see you do as well.
 
Also I should point out even though The Grey
Man is
blind,
you are still our weakest link.
 
If you screw up we all go down.
 
Okay?”

Jonathan looked across and smiled, “When do we start?”

“Now,” said Surge and disappeared into a corner shop selling gifts
for the tourists.
 
He bought two baseball
caps with ‘
Swanage
’ emblazoned across
the front.
 
He put one on and gave the
other one to Jonathan who did the same although it was not something he would normally
wear.

“Why do you think your dad has a safe house here?” Surge asked.

“No idea,” replied Jonathan.
 
“Except it is such a nice place.”

“It’s not just nice.
 
It is
perfect for so many reasons.
 
Firstly we
are well off the beaten track in an isolated village.
 
The next town is miles away so this is almost
an oasis.
 
Tourists come here year round
so no one looks at anyone new as there are always strangers walking around.
 
In fact, most locals like to keep their
distance so you have no nosy
neighbours
.
 
It is one of the safest towns in the UK so
minimal criminal activity means minimal police presence.
 
If you keep your head down no one will notice
you and best of all no one will interfere with you.”

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