The Keepers of the Persian Gate (22 page)

“No time to talk. We have to get out of here now.” The man spoke with a British accent.

The man set several incendiary devices around the boardroom as they left and as they hit the corridor he pushed a button, engulfing the boardroom in flames. They walked to one of the reflection pods on the other side of the building and the man opened fire on the reflection pod’s window, blowing it to pieces. He swiftly opened a bag with an abseiling kit which he attached to a pillar beside the door.

“Right, let’s go.”

Somewhat bemused, Paddy joined him and they immediately jumped out the window abseiling down the seventeen floors to the ground. The far side of the building did not appear to have any guards within sight. However, there was a Lincoln Continental parked waiting for them. When they hit the ground, Paddy hurt his leg. The man picked Paddy up, threw him into the back seat and got in next to him. The car then sped off in the opposite direction of the way they entered the compound. They approached a back gate and slowed. There were two guards. The driver very casually pushed a button to open the sunroof of the car and Paddy’s rescuer quickly popped his head up and opened fire with his M-15, taking out the two guards with single precision shots. The driver then sped up and smashed through the gate. The car then sped off down a side road away from the freeway.

“You keep interesting company, Mr. Trimble,” said the driver with a distinctive accent.

Paddy was sitting behind the driver and wasn’t able to make out the driver’s face.

“Who are you?” asked Paddy.

“I’m sorry, we’ve never met before,” said the man. He turned around and smiled. “The name’s Adam Scott.”

Paddy was shocked. Given the events that had just occurred, Scott was the last person on earth he expected to be on his side. Up until now he had proceeded on the basis that Scott was a component of the Clarkson conspiracy. “But, I thought…”

“I know, you probably assumed because I attended today’s meeting that I was part of it. Well, far from it. I knew you were in that meeting today because our friends in MI6 have been watching you rather closely.”

The man beside him put out his hand. “Jeff Bowers. MI6. Pleased to meet you,” said Paddy’s rescuer.

“I was attending today’s meeting to find out the depth of the treachery at Clarkson,” explained Scott. “That man Robert Jackson is an evil bastard, hell bent on destroying the world for profit. Bowers here has been on the ground in Clarkson ever since William Dunlop brought Clarkson’s dealings to the attention of MI6.”

“Did you get what you were looking for, Mr. Trimble?” asked Bowers.

“No, the CIA agents I was working with were lifted by the FBI, according to Jackson,” said Paddy.

“You mean these chaps?” asked Scott, pointing to a car parked at the side of the road.

“Now I’m totally confused,” said Paddy.

“MI6 got in contact with them immediately following your capture. It gave them time to evacuate their field base. We have a jet waiting on the tarmac at NASA’s airfield,” explained Bowers.

McGregor and Craig walked to the window and pulled Paddy out of the car.

“Hell, boy, don’t you look like shit!” exclaimed Craig.

“Thanks. So, where to next?” asked Paddy.

“I think it’s time we paid your old friend the Mechanic a little visit, don’t you?” asked McGregor.

“You read my mind, McGregor.” Said Paddy.

The two cars drove across the back roads of Houston to the NASA air base. The CIA and MI6 both had established connections within NASA and they had used these to arrange transport. NASA operated under its own special jurisdiction, into which the FBI and local police were not authorised to delve. Their jurisdiction was controlled by the Air Force, and an exit from a NASA airport was the last thing that FBI would expect.

As they entered the NASA compound, they were given the all-clear by security and escorted to the airfield. Various parts of rockets and space craft were exhibited along the route like relics in a museum. A single C-19 waited for them on the tarmac. As the team got out of the car, they were greeted by the local airfield commander, Major General Zach Guzek.

“Gentlemen, welcome to NASA. I hear you had a run-in with the FBI. I just want to say, for the record, that this plane is on a routine flight to a base in the Netherlands, and you were never here,” said Guzek.

“Thank you, Major General, for your understanding,” replied McGregor.

“Not at all, gentlemen. Now quickly get your asses on that plane before the FBI try to lock down this airport. They have put a six hour flight ban on George Bush and Hobby. We’re the only airport putting birds in the sky at this moment in time!” said the Major General.

Paddy, Scott, Jeff, McGregor, Williamson and Craig were quickly seated aboard the C-19. As soon as they were aboard, the hatch was shut and the plane immediately taxied to the runway to take off for Holland.

Paddy turned to McGregor. “So, other than their respective positions on this shadow board, what do all the members have in common?” asked Paddy.

McGregor nodded to Williamson, who pulled out his iPad and began going through those identified.

“We found out that they all seem to be members of one organisation, namely the Acropolis,” said Williamson.

He explained that the Acropolis was an extremely secretive organisation that funded various Western companies engaged in business in the Middle East. As such, Langley’s profile on the Acropolis was scarcely populated, but it did mention that its members held a number of positions of power in Europe and the United States. However, they were not designated as a threat.

“I’ll get MI6 to have a look into what they have on them as well,” said Jeff.

“Just be careful. Too many questions might lead to us being found out again,” said McGregor.

“It appears that Clarkson is merely a front for the Acropolis, or a gateway,” explained Williamson.

“So I’m confused… It’s the Acropolis versus the Keepers of the Persian Gate… East versus West…And who’s side are we on? Surely it’s the West?” asked Craig.

“It’s not quite as simple as that, sir,” replied McGregor.

“It’s starting to make sense,” said Paddy.

“What is?” asked Scott.

“Well, Jackson had William Dunlop killed because he would not join the Acropolis. When Will married his daughter, Jackson asked Will to join the board of Clarkson and whilst he worked as General Counsel, he believed that Clarkson was a force for good in the Middle East. However, when the Keepers of the Persian Gate initiated the Arab Spring, Clarkson and the Acropolis panicked because they couldn’t control the new incoming regimes in the way they had before. They demanded that the Keepers give the Acropolis influence over the new governments. When the Keepers refused, the Acropolis and Clarkson cut ties with them.

“The only alternative for Clarkson and the Acropolis to regain its foothold in the Middle East,” surmised Paddy, “would be to create an all-out war between East and West. Dunlop realising what was happening separated himself from the board and in the process fell out with Jackson. As a result, Jackson ordered Aamir Machete to kill Dunlop. When that failed, Jackson pulled as many strings as possible within MI5 and eventually he succeeded having Dunlop killed.”

“Interesting theory. How do we prove it?” asked McGregor.

“We need to speak to the Mechanic. He did business with the Keepers. It’s quite convenient that this plane is flying to Holland, because that’s where he’s being held,” said Paddy.

McGregor smiled.

“And what of this war, how will it begin?” asked Scott.

“Jackson mentioned that there would be an appropriate trigger which would unite the West behind Israel in a military counterstrike against a specific target,” replied Paddy.

“Whatever the trigger is, it will have to be pretty earth shattering,” said Craig.

“The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand was enough to start World War I,” observed Scott.

Chapter 14

The Netherlands

THE FLIGHT FROM HOUSTON to the Netherlands allowed Paddy and the rest of the team to get some sleep. The one exception was Jeff Bowers, who wanted to make as many enquiries as he could in relation to the Acropolis and the Keepers of the Persian Gate. Jeff also wanted to get to the bottom of who was pulling the strings within MI5.

His enquiries led him to discover that the Keepers of the Persian Gate had come to the UK within the last two weeks to investigate the main players in the Clarkson network and were primed, if necessary, to prevent a terrorist attack from occurring. They had their eyes on a number of local players within the UK who had links to extremist Islamic organisations and who may have been receiving indirect funding from the Acropolis. The Keepers had allegedly based themselves in the Pakistani embassy in London and were using it as their headquarters for surveillance.

In terms of MI5, Jeff’s enquiries were met with a wall of silence. Nevertheless, when Jeff made some unofficial enquiries with former colleagues, he managed to get somewhere. He learned that the Managing Partner of Sefton & Grey, Thompson Gellar, was actually a founding member of the Acropolis, and had significant links to MI5. In fact, his brother, Marcus Baldwin, was Director of Training there.

Jeff woke Paddy. “Paddy, how did the Keepers know you were going to be on Gigha?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for the last twenty-four hours,” replied Paddy.

“Did anything strange happen before Cromwell, and before William Dunlop was killed? I’m thinking way back when you didn’t have any suspicions about anything,” said Jeff.

Paddy thought for a moment. “The night before the murder in Dunlop & McLaine, and before I went to meet William Dunlop in Reading, my apartment was broken into. But nothing seemed to have been taken.” said Paddy.

Jeff looked at Paddy and stared him up and down. “Take off your shoes.”

“What?”

“Take them off!” said Jeff.

Paddy duly obliged and Jeff used a pocket-knife to cut off the heel on each of Paddy’s shoes. However, there was nothing suspicious to be found.

“What about that watch, Paddy?” asked Jeff.

“What about it?” replied Paddy.

“Was that watch in your apartment the night it was broken into?” asked Jeff.

“I… It wasn’t! But…” replied Paddy.

“But what?” asked Jeff.

“Mark Glover at Dunlop & McLaine, he noticed it was broken. He said he would give it to the Head of Security at the firm. Said he was an artisan that repaired watches in his spare time. He gave it back to me the morning William Dunlop was killed,” said Paddy.

“Give it to me,” said Jeff.

Jeff smashed it with the handle of his knife and pulled off the clock face. Underneath, attached to the battery, was a device that he instantly recognised. He pulled it out. It looked like a bit like a fairy light, only without the light.

“This is what they have been tracking you with! These have been cropping up quite a lot recently. It works off mobile phone masts to send a signal by text message every couple of hours to a phone designated to receive your coordinates. Your Head of Security would be getting live updates of your location periodically. But as far as I know, it would not be tri-band, so the second you left the UK, it ceased to operate,” explained Jeff.

“One moment,” said Paddy. He marched over to Adam Scott who was still asleep. “Scott!” He slapped him across the head.

“What the bloody hell!” said Scott.

“I need to have a word with you,” said Paddy.

“What the bloody hell for?” replied Scott.

“Jeff here found a tracking device in my watch. It was put there by Major Howard. Care to shed any light?” aked Paddy.

Scott carefully explained, that due to the sensitive nature of the work carried at Dunlop & McLaine, occasionally staff came under threat. There had been a series of attempted kidnappings in the past, and as a result, Mark Glover asked Major Howard to commence putting tracking devices in either the watches or mobile phones of new employees.

“I appreciate it’s a bit of a shock to you.”

By this stage McGregor, Craig and Williamson had awoken and come over to listen to the conversation. Jeff explained that whoever leaked the information about the CIA and Paddy on the Island of Gigha had access to Paddy’s position via the tracking device in the watch.

“Who would receive the information about my position?” asked Paddy.

“There are only two men who would have access to that sort of information. One is Major Howard,” said Scott.

“And the other…?” asked Paddy.

Scott hesitated for a moment. “The other would be Sir Mark Glover, Managing Partner at Dunlop & McLaine. Your Master.”

Paddy was absolutely fuming with this information. Although he had only known Mark for an instant, he felt betrayed. It was either Howard or Mark.

“So one of them works for the Keepers of the Persian Gate?” Pondered Jeff.

“We don’t know that,” replied Paddy.

Howard himself seemed as unlikely a candidate as Mark to be working with the Keepers of the Persian Gate. However, stranger things had happened in the last few days. The real debate amongst the group was who stood to benefit the most from erasing any evidence that William Dunlop was murdered. There was only one answer, and that was Mark, who had recently been elected the new Managing Partner.

“I should state that he was highly reluctant to take on the post. Myself and the rest of the Partners didn’t really give him a choice in the matter,” said Scott.

“Yes, but was there really any other candidate?” replied Paddy.

“No, you’re right. There wasn’t,” replied Scott.

Paddy thought back to his encounter with Vera on the afternoon prior to the meeting with Mark. He found it odd that his key had disappeared after Vera had left and then magically reappeared after his dinner with Mark. After all, it was Mark who had sent her to Paddy’s apartment in the first place. Moreover, whoever had broken into his apartment had done so through the front door, and there were no signs that the door had been forced open. Paddy began to wonder whether his afternoon with Vera had all been designed by Mark in order for someone to break in to his apartment that evening.

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