Darke Mission (67 page)

Read Darke Mission Online

Authors: Scott Caladon

It was 8.58am, and there they were like a convoy though they didn't know it. Long and Hayworth, in their stolen UPS delivery uniforms were driving the fake UPS van, properly painted and nicely decaled. JJ Darke was a mere thirty seconds or so behind, in a blue Mercedes Sprinter van. The imposter UPS pair drove straight into the depot. Robson could see that from his vantage point. He could not see exactly where they parked but he assumed it would be as per his prior written instructions.

Darke parked his van just outside the main depot and walked away, as per his instructions. So far so good thought Robson. Hayworth and Long emerged from the depot, pushing two motorised metal pallets with wooden trays. They hopped into the back of the Sprinter van and stayed there for a few minutes. Then they came out and started loading the pallets. Each parcel weighed 20kg. These two were young and strong so it took them less than five minutes to load. They then went back into the depot.

Robson could not see any sign of JJ, perhaps he'd wandered off to get a bus. Several UPS vans were now leaving the depot, all loaded up and heading for all parts of London and surrounding districts. There were big vans, small vans, huge vans. All shapes and sizes but all brown and gold with the distinctive UPS badge. Eyeballing them would not tell Neil Robson which of these vans was ‘his' UPS van. Before the transit had gone to Bert's Garage for its UPS makeover, however, Archie Newman had installed a GPS device so that Neil Robson could track it. Long and Hayworth had electronically swept the Sprinter van and the packages therein before loading them onto the pallets. They were clean. Darke had stuck to that part of the deal at least.

It was now 9.05am and more and more UPS delivery trucks had come pouring out of the depot. Bleep. Robson activated his tracker. Four UPS vehicles all left the depot in convoy. Robson knew that it was the second one in line that he was interested in as it was the only Ford Transit of the four. His tracking device confirmed this and was now bleeping away merrily. Robson would stay in situ for a few minutes. He did not want to look as if he was tailing his van, just in case JJ Darke was in the vicinity and up to no good. Robson's mobile rang.

“Robson. It's me. I've done as you bid. Now where's Cyrus?” asked JJ, calm but having difficulty keeping it so.

“Fuck off cunt,” replied Robson. “I left the little prick alive but who knows how long that will last. Find him yourself smart arse.” Neil Robson hung up.

JJ started bashing his phone on his Porsche's dashboard. Gil was driving though at this particular moment they were parked close to Camden Town. The air inside the Porsche was blue and JJ was in the early stages of meltdown.

Gil's phone rang.

“Gil, it's Ethel.” Gil motioned to JJ to shut up and calm down. “We think we know where Cyrus is. One of the letting agents admitted they had been paid cash for a short-let. The other two possibilities seemed legit. The description of the guy didn't fit Robson but he could have been well disguised. The agent said it's a recent loft conversion and that you could probably see the chimney tops of Battersea Power Station from the top floor. It's on Savona Street. Victor and I are headed there now. I'll text you details and meet you there.”

“Great Ethel. I'll tell JJ. We're on our way,” Gil put the Porsche tiptronic in drive and took off.

JJ was in no fit state to drive. He was pouring with sweat, had a splitting headache and barely took in Gil's news. It was a fairly straight route, north to south, but would take thirty to forty minutes in early Monday traffic. Ethel and Victor would be there first but they would probably await JJ and Gil. Ethel had her Glock and taser with her but Victor had nothing but his laptop. JJ had his Glock and Gil her SIG Sauer. Hopefully, guns would not be needed. As JJ was returning to normal and thinking ahead, he recalled that in the midst of Robson's vitriol he mentioned that he had ‘left Cyrus alive'. Though not certain, that could imply that Robson was no longer there. It didn't mean that Cyrus was alone nor did it mean that there were no booby traps in place. They needed to be prepared.

Gil and JJ arrived in Savona Street thirty-two minutes after leaving Camden. That was fast and JJ was grateful for it. JJ spotted Ethel's silver hatchback. Gil parked up and JJ got out to speak to Ethel.

“It's there across the street,” said Ethel. “I've not spotted any movement inside since getting here.”

OK,” said JJ. “Gil and I will go in through the front door. Ethel you cover the back. I take it you're packing?” Ethel nodded. “Victor, you stay here. If we're not out in ten minutes call the local police.” Victor nodded, content to avoid any fireworks. It may have been wiser to try to pick the front door's lock and scan for wires attached to explosives but JJ needed to know. Followed by Gil, he ran across the street and shoulder-charged the front door into oblivion. He tumbled down but was up quickly, gun pointed in a two-handed grip.

“Cyrus, Cyrus are you here?” he yelled.

Gil called out too. There was no immediate discernable sound in reply. JJ climbed the first set of stairs, leading the way, gun shifting from left to right then straight ahead. Gil was directly behind, going up backwards, to cover JJ's six and her twelve.

“Cyrus!” hollered JJ. “It's Dad and Gil!” There was no human reply but the sound of wood on wood was clearly audible. JJ dashed up the second flight of stairs throwing caution aside and dived straight into the room where the sound seemed to be from. Cyrus was there bound and taped but alive and making a racket as he bounced the wooden chair about. There were no obvious booby traps. JJ un-taped Cyrus's mouth and hugged him strongly before even attempting to untie him.

“Oh Cyrus, I love you, I'm so sorry for all this,” cried JJ unashamedly.

“I love you too, Dad,” said Cyrus, very calm considering, “but you're going to need to let me go right now. I need a pee so bad and a poo may be brewing as well. I've got to go now!” exclaimed the boy. JJ laughed and cried at the same time. He untied Cyrus's legs while Gil cut through the speedcuffs restraining Cyrus's hands.

“Hi Gil, thanks,” he said en passant as he bolted for the loo.

Waste disposal and ablutions completed, Cyrus emerged from the bathroom. JJ hugged him again and Cyrus hugged him back. Gil looked on and smiled. She had let Victor and Ethel know that Cyrus was safe. They both came into the house to join in the happy scene. JJ was a wreck, a most happy wreck but in no condition to be thinking about Neil Robson, his money or either's whereabouts.

“Let's go home and get you fixed up,” said Gil, giving Cyrus a squashing hug.

“OK,” said the boy. “I'm starvin'. Can we get a pizza takeaway, maybe two for me? Have we got curlies and biscuits at home?” Gil looked at JJ, he was shaking his head, not to indicate no, just in joyous disbelief.

“Yes, of course. You can have whatever you want Cyrus. Anything,” said JJ.

The five that were all alive left the building. Everybody was headed for Markham Square, Victor and Ethel in the hatchback, Gil, Cyrus and JJ in the Porsche. Cyrus was curled up in the rear bucket seats. He felt safe in there. He also knew that Gil was the one who was going to pop in to Pizza Express on the King's Road to collect the order she had phoned through. A few minutes later Gil did just that and JJ drove his car and his son into Markham Square. Cyrus was very pleased to see his Chelsea blue front door. He was dealing with recent events as best he could but it was a lot and he was totally exhausted. Dodgy Russians shooting at him in Scotland, discovering he had a big sister, then being kidnapped by some maniac who beat him and starved him.

“Dad, the guy who kidnapped me,” said Cyrus softly, before he and JJ got out of the car.

“Yes, Cyrus?”

“Promise me you'll make him pay.”

“I promise Cyrus, on your mother's love, I promise.”

* * *

A few minutes later everyone was enjoying their pizzas. Cyrus, especially, and he was on to his second one before anyone else had finished their first. His mouth hurt a lot, so every now and then he was reminded of his ordeal. Becky was very pleased to see Cyrus and the boy got a crushing hug from the attractive young woman. He liked that and had a huge smile on his face, seen by all, and generating admiring laughs from Gil and his dad.

JJ looked intently and lovingly at his son. He had grown up a lot in the past few weeks. The circumstances occasioning said growth would not really have been JJ's first choice but sometimes you need to play the hand you've been dealt, good or bad. Cyrus did not seem to be psychologically harmed by his exposure to guns, bullets and capture but you never know, thought JJ. In those quieter moments when you're on your own preparing to sleep, in the dark or in a strange environment that's when the mind goes to dark places and plays tricks. Fortunately, Cyrus had quality back-up right now. Both Gil and Becky were staying in the house. He had also made new friends in Ethel and Victor so his protective ring was larger and stronger. Victor couldn't do much protecting right enough but he and Cyrus could babble in the alien language known as technogeek, and they could share experiences to a degree. Both had been in a firefight that they would never have anticipated only a few weeks ago. Satisfied that Cyrus was in a good safe place, JJ's thoughts turned to Neil Robson.

“Victor,” said JJ.

Victor had just finished congratulating Cyrus on the simple ingenuity of his code square. Cyrus was all pleased with himself and rightly so.

“We need to find Robson and the money, with the emphasis on Robson,” said JJ.

“Sure,” replied Victor, “but do we have any idea where he is?”

“No we don't, but we're going to need to get into gear sharpish. Here's what we know. Somehow Robson's plan was to use UPS to transport the money. As I was walking away from our Sprinter van, two UPS uniformed guys went into the back of the van. I ducked behind some bushes for a few minutes to take a look. I was hoping that they would take the van because I had installed a tracker, deep inside the petrol tank, but they didn't. After five minutes or so these two guys came out of the van, loaded the money on two motorised pallets and returned to the UPS depot. They must have been working for Robson. Vans and trucks were leaving the terminal every few minutes. My guess is that the money was in one of those trucks and driven by the two guys I saw. After that, I've no idea, we went for Cyrus.”

“Does UPS Lojack their vehicles?” asked Victor.

“I don't know, Victor,” replied JJ. “If they did and the van's transceiver's signal went straight to the police indicating it had been stolen then maybe Ethel could find that out. I'll ask. I suspect though that Robson's a bit too cunning to go that route. It's more likely that he had a phoney UPS van already in the depot or driven there earlier by his two goons. Legitimate UPS personnel at the depot would be more likely to spot that they were one van or truck short than they would one too many.”

“Maybe Ethel could ask her police colleagues if any apparent UPS vans had been reported abandoned or set alight, that kind of thing,” suggested Victor. “They'd need to do something with the van.”

“That's a good idea, Victor, at least it would give us a starting point,” replied JJ. They both went for a chat with Ethel. She was on the case straight away.

JJ was right about one thing, Neil Robson was indeed cunning. The instructions to Tim Hayworth and Jason Long were twofold. First, they were to drive the UPS van and its contents back to Bert's Garage. Robson had told Archie Newman to ensure that the regular employees of the garage had a well-paid day off. Once there, Long and Hayworth were to strip the transit van of its UPS decals and respray the van white. They were to change the number plates, supplied by Newman. When finished they were to leave the van locked with all its contents intact and give the keys to Newman.

The second instruction was of the fail-safe variety. Robson could not be certain that his plan for the van would work as perfectly as it had. He instructed Long and Hayworth to load the UPS van with four parcels less than the fifty they had removed from the Sprinter. The two goons were then to attach counterfeit UPS labels supplied by Archie Newman in the suit bag which contained the UPS decals. Three of the parcels were to be delivered, by legitimate UPS carriers, to Post Office addresses in England, two in London and one in Hull. The fourth one was destined for foreign parts. In total, the parcels contained the equivalent of £8 million. If all else went pear-shaped thought Robson a piggybank of £8 million would be sufficient to get by on.

Archie Newman had supplied Robson with some fake ID, a driving license, a utility bill and a council tax reminder. He was working on a passport which he would deliver to Robson today. One of the four parcels could easily fit into a large kit bag, so Robson was about to be mobile and cashed up.

“Archie, it's me. Are we done?” asked Neil Robson from his mobile phone.

“Nearly. The lads are repainting the van now. They've got industrial dryers on it so it'll be ready this evening. I'll have your papers ready then too. Let's meet at Bert's say 8pm, and settle up.”

“Fine, see you there,” replied Robson.

* * *

Time dragged for Neil Robson that day. He couldn't risk going back to the Battersea loft. Either Darke would have discovered his son or the boy would be in a right mess or possibly dead. In either event the local police would be all over the place, maybe even the secret service too.
Movement is freedom
he thought, so he whiled away the hours in and out of busy London cafés and shops. His plan was almost complete. His only regret was that he had not topped JJ Darke.
One day
, he told himself,
one day I will get even with that Jock asshole
.

It was just after 8pm. Archie Newman unlocked the door of Bert's garage on hearing the six knock signal from the outside. Tim Hayworth and Jason Long were still there. Hayworth was pleased with his pay packet but Long felt that they deserved an extra wedge for all this repainting stuff, it was hard and it had taken half a day.

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