The Gulf Conspiracy (35 page)

‘
They’re being brought in with the prisoners,’ said Innes. ‘They should be here at any minute.’

Steven used his mobile phone and asked to be patched through to the mobile lab waiting at Aberfoyle. He requested that it make its way down to the rendezvous point.

‘
Roger that.’

As he ended the call, Mick came across and told Steven that the men from 45 Commando were asking if was all right to restore the water supply.

‘
Tell them, yes,’ said Steven.

‘
Here they are,’ said Innes as a long wheelbase Land Rover appeared through the trees. When three soldiers got out unaccompanied, Innes asked where the prisoners were.’

‘
You said the operation was over, sir,’ replied the driver, a corporal. ‘They asked to be dropped off about a mile back. They said they’d hidden their vehicle there in the trees. It made more sense than coming in here and then having to get a lift back.’

‘
I suppose,’ said Innes.

The news made Steven’s throat constrict to a point where he could hardly speak. He exchanged alarmed glances with Mick. ‘And the flasks they were carrying?’ he croaked.

‘
Right here,’ replied the corporal, returning briefly to the Land Rover and returning with three metal flasks with apparently unbroken seals.

‘
You’re sure this was all they were carrying?’ Steven said.

‘
Absolutely,’ replied the corporal.

‘
Anything wrong?’ asked Innes, aware of Steven’s unease but failing to understand it.

‘
No, nothing,’ replied Steven. ‘Really.’

‘
Then I suggest that beer in Aberfoyle might be in order,’ announced Innes in a loud voice. This brought a cheer from the troops. ‘I’m sure we’d be delighted if you chaps would join us?’

‘
Thanks, Major,’ said Steven. ‘We’ll be along shortly.’

‘
Just to make sure that you do, I’ll leave you one of the vehicles,’ said Innes, now filled with the surge of confidence that success brings.

‘
Thanks,’ said Steven.

‘
Everything all right, Steve?’ asked Mick as the Territorials started to move out.

‘
I’m not sure,’ said Steven. ‘Something doesn’t feel right . . .’

The mobile lab appeared at the end of the track and the sight of it interrupted his train of thought. As it pulled in to the side and drew up Steven took the three flasks round to the back of the vehicle and waited for the doors to be opened. The two men in the back were wearing white biohazard suits. Only the full hood visors were missing.

‘
You have something for us,’ said one of the men.

Steven handed the sealed metal containers to them and said after a moment’s hesitation, ‘I realise that you chaps are only expecting to transport these south - and this may be a very stupid question - but is there any way you could tell me right now if these containers contain living biological material?’

‘
You have doubts then?’

‘
Yes,’ replied Steven without really knowing why.

‘
There’s no way we could go about identifying any bug or virus,’ said the man. ‘But if it’s a simple yes/no you’re after, that’s possible – if it’s really important?’

Steven took a moment to consider the man’s obvious reluctance to open the flasks before saying, ‘It is.’

The man shrugged and said, ‘Okay, give us ten minutes.’

Steven watched the men don their hoods and check the sealing on each other’s suit before closing the back doors of the vehicle.

Steven felt the need to be on his own. He walked over to the edge of the trees and looked back down the valley at nothing in particular. When he heard the doors of the mobile lab being opened again he turned round and hurried towards it.

‘
Well?’ he asked the first man to take his hood off.

‘
As far as we can tell,’ said the man. ‘The three containers contain nothing but red dye . . .’

‘
Fuck,’ said Steven as his world suddenly crumbled around him. It had been a perfectly genuine exercise with three mock terrorists attempting to carry out an attack on water supplies with red dye and being thwarted by men of the Territorial Army!

The SAS men seemed to sense Steven’s embarrassment and stayed away from him as he walked back over to his vantage point over the valley to look into the middle distance as he fought to come to terms with what he now saw as complete and abject failure.

But why had it been arranged through Gardiner’s organisation at all? asked a small voice inside his head. Why use these people at all to arrange details like . . . suspension of civilian security . . . from eight till six on the day of the exercise? From eight till six on the day of the exercise . . . The phrase repeated itself. Steven looked at his watch. It was 5.30. Who was guarding the aqueduct right now? He asked himself. No one, replied the little voice.

Steven spun round on his heel as suddenly it all started to make sense. What was it Mick had said earlier when the Territorials made light work of capturing the second terrorist? Who would have thought . . . Who would have thought?’

YOU IDIOT! THEY WERE MEANT TO CAPTURE THEM! screamed the voice inside his head.

‘
Sweet Jesus Christ!’ Steven yelled at the SAS men. ‘There are more of them!’ He ran to the Land Rover left behind by Innes and tugged at the starter as the SAS men piled in behind him. Mick swung his legs in the front as Steven took off, sending up a hail of stones from the spinning wheels.

‘
The aqueduct is unguarded from now until six o’clock,’ yelled Steven above the roar of the engine, which he kept in low gear, using high revs to keep up speed. ‘The third man made sure he was captured well before that time in order to ensure a gap.’

‘
And the water supply has been restored,’ yelled Mick.

‘
What an idiot!’ Steven berated himself. ‘It’s perfect, just what they wanted! Officially it’s been a completely successful exercise with the squaddies triumphing and the terrorists getting nowhere near the water supply. They planned to slip the agent into the water after the exercise was over so that no one would ever be able to work out where the infection came from. It was to be another bloody secret!’

‘
There’s a security van there,’ said Mick as the aqueduct came into view.

‘
I don’t believe it,’ yelled Steven. ‘Civvies don’t start early.

‘
Christ, there’s a bloke up on the aqueduct!’ said one of the others. They all caught sight of a dark clad man moving along the gantry before dropping out of sight again.

‘
Get on to the 45 guys. See if there’s any chance of getting the supply interrupted again,’ said Steven. Walsh got on the radio.

‘
What do you want us to do?’ asked Mick.

‘
If you get the chance, kill him,’ replied Steven.

‘
They’re half a mile away,’ said Walsh, reporting on the commandos’ position.

‘
Tell them to get there as soon as they can,’ said Steven. ‘It’s a matter of life and death.’

Walsh relayed the message and Steven slowed the vehicle to walking pace as they neared the base of the aqueduct.

‘
Let’s go,’ yelled Mick as he leapt out and others followed with the exception of Walsh who was still in touch with the commandos. ‘Fuck me, are you not there yet?’ Steven heard him say. ‘Bunch of big girls’ blouses.’

Steven was vaguely conscious of an unprintable reply as he brought the Land Rover to a complete halt and got out to look up. There was no sign of the figure they’d seen earlier but he must still be there, he reasoned. There was nowhere else for him to go.

Steven climbed the steep grassy bank leading up to the iron aqueduct and steadied himself on a short section of railing at the top, designed to restrict access to the feeder pipe which emerged from the ground to spew water into the open channel. He looked along the channel expecting to see a man hiding there but saw nothing but fast flowing water.

‘
Where the f-’ mouthed Steven, unable to understand where the man could possibly have gone. ‘There’s nowhere . . . absolutely nowhere . . .’ he kept reasoning, ‘So how . . .?’

Steven almost fell over backwards as a figure suddenly emerged like Poseidon from the water about twenty metres along the aqueduct. Instead of a trident, he was holding up a metal flask in his right hand. He had finally run out of air.

Steven gave the man a moment to get his breath and let the water drain away from his face before saying, ‘It’s all over, best give that to me.’ He held out his hand. The man, who had been lying on his back under the surface, was now in a sitting position with the water flowing past him. ‘Something tells me I’m still holding all the aces,’ he said, making a slight movement with the flask in his hand.’

Steven started to move towards him but the man immediately switched the flask to his other hand and stared undoing the cap.

‘
For Christ’s sake man!’ said Steven. ‘Have you any idea what you’re about to do?’

The man shook his head. ‘None at all,’ he replied. ‘That’s the way I like it. I’m a soldier. I get my orders. I carry them out. They pay me. That’s all I need to know.’

‘
Don’t you care about . . .?’

‘
Don’t waste your breath,’ interrupted the man. ‘I’ve soldiered all over the world. I’ve seen everything one human being can do to another human being. I stopped being interested a long time ago.’

Steven knew he had to stall the man as long as possible so that the commandos would have time to put the divert back on the water supply again but it wasn’t looking hopeful. ‘Even if money is the only thing you’re interested in, surely you’ve already been paid?’ he said.

‘
In part. The rest goes into my account for Miriam and the kid when the job gets done.’

‘
Look, if it’s a matter of money . . .’ began Steven.

‘
And professional pride,’ said the man, smiling for the first time as he started to get to his feet. ‘You didn’t know mercenaries had pride, did you? Well, we do. To be one in the first place you have to be good and British mercenaries are the best; that’s why we get paid the best. Nice and simple. Nice and honest. No bullshit, no flag-waving, no pretence.’

‘
Even if that’s true-’ said Steven. He was interrupted by a shot shattering the silence as the man stood up and became visible over the parapet. A puzzled look appeared briefly on his face before he pitched forward to fall face down into the water. Steven climbed into the aqueduct channel and waded as fast as he could towards the figure before it floated away, his one thought the safe retrieval of the flask. He reached the body and straddled his legs across it while he reached down into the water to feel if the man was still holding the flask. He was but, as Steven suddenly realised in a surge of panic, he was holding it in both hands! He wasn’t completely dead. He was trying to undo the top!

Steven wrenched it from his grasp and brought it to the surface as Mick and two of the others appeared on the gantry and came to help. They pulled the man - who now seemed to be dead out of the water and tipped his body over the edge of the aqueduct to fall to the ground below with a thud.

‘
Okay?’ asked Mick as Steven tried to ascertain whether there had been any leakage from the flask. There was no doubt the seal was broken. It was just a question of how far the top could be turned before the sealing gasket ceased to have any effect. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Did the commandos get the divert on in time?’

‘
Mick made a gesture with his right hand that indicated it might have been touch and go.

‘
Then it’s wait and see time,’ said Steven.

They left the gantry and came slowly back down the grassy slope to the ground.

‘
Christ, I could do with a drink,’ said Steven as he felt himself go weak at the knees as the adrenalin left his bloodstream.

‘
Looks like we’re done here,’ said Mick. ‘I’ll call in the chopper.’

Steven, dressed in a smart suit and dark tie, stood at the window in his flat, watching the sunlight sparkle on the Thames. It was a sight that usually gladdened his heart but not this morning. He was due at the Home Office in forty-five minutes and he was not looking forward to it. He thought he could see what was coming and he was going to need all the self control he could muster. There was no way that that the establishment could let the whole truth come out so he was reconciled to a cover-up. It was just a question of degree and how much he could stomach before anger got the better of him. A slight smile played on his lips when he remembered what Lisa used to say when she sensed temper getting the better of him. Deep breaths, Dunbar, deep breaths . . .

Steven found the Home Secretary with Macmillan when he entered Macmillan’s office. Both men seemed relaxed and smiled as he came in.

‘
Welcome back,’ said Macmillan.

‘
Good to
be
back,’ replied Steven automatically.

‘
I felt I had to come along and congratulate you personally on a job well done,’ said the Home Secretary.

‘
Thank you, sir, but we’re not out of the woods just yet,’ replied Steven. ‘There’s still a chance that Glasgow’s water may have been contaminated.’

‘
And that’s something we’ve been taking very seriously,’ replied the Home Secretary.