To Kill Or Be Killed (19 page)

David whistled.
“My god sounds really heavy.”

“Well I went
back to the UK with his body and at the funeral I saw his wife and
children, no older than my two. Ella was scared it’d be me next.
The incident was in the papers and I resigned, but a couple of days
later I got a call from DIC. I figured this had to be safer
work.”

“Doesn’t look
much like it now does it?”

“No, but if
we’re careful we can ride it out. You didn’t seem shocked at the
sight of Spencer’s dead body I note. That indicates either
stupidity or experience and I know it’s not the former.”

“We opened a
truck at Dover as we had a tip on for illegal immigrants. Inside
there were fifteen dead Afghanis. The smell was terrible. The lorry
had been sealed on the French side, but the driver hadn’t
calculated the air supply properly as the ferry was delayed. They
avoided leaving air gaps as they knew it alerted us in customs. He
hadn’t let them out on the ferry. There were dents on the metal
walls of the container where they’d been beating the walls, but the
sea was bad, hence the delay, so no-one was on the car decks during
the crossing. It was awful.”

“It’s a bad old
world sure enough David.”

The pilot
interrupted their chatter.

“Ten minutes to
Glasgow airport. Do you want to me to arrange transport to your
hotel for you?”

“No thanks our
firm has a car waiting for us.”

David and
Beaumont smiled at each other.

“Still you get
the VIP treatment when you travel so there are compensations.”
David said.

“Do you feel
more like Brie when that happens?” Beaumont answered.

“Trust you to
have food on your mind it’s been over an hour since your bacon
butties.”

The helicopter
began a circle descent into Glasgow airport. It was closing on ten
a.m. when they landed.

Chapter
56

Manchester

10 a.m.

April 18th

Cobb had a ten
minute start on the chasing DIC. Once he was outside the Arndale
Centre Cobb made his way two hundred metres up the High Street to
the cash machine and stole one hundred pounds from the account
using the card and pin. After he binned the card he walked two
streets to the taxi rank. He was worried, but knew they didn’t have
a description matching the way he looked. Cobb took the lead cab in
the line and flopped in the back.

“The airport
please.”

“Sure enough
what time’s your flight?”

“Ten
thirty.”

“Blimey you’ll
just make that. Minimum check in time’s ten minutes.”

“An extra
twenty pounds if you get me there in the next twenty minutes.” Cobb
said breezily. The adrenalin of his close escape was beginning to
give him a buzz.

“You’re on lad.
Buckle up eh?”

The big white
saloon pulled away with the direct power of all automatics and Cobb
leaned back and relaxed for a moment. It wasn’t over yet but he’d
been in tighter scrapes than this.

Outside the
Manchester Arndale centre it was mayhem, fire engines, armed police
and press were all over the place. The DIC three exited the
building and they all stopped and looked at the chief inspector in
a huddle with armed police and men in suits. All the men in the
power huddle turned to look at them. The chief inspector gave them
the darkest of looks.

“Let’s get our
own car shall we.” Tony said suddenly.

“Let’s.” Shadz
said and opened his cell phone and dialled the local DIC
watcher.

It was ten past
ten when they drove away to the airport with the local DIC watcher
telling them that the next London flight was at ten thirty. He
floored the accelerator and headed for the airport.

In the car,
buffeted by the turns, Shadz had the laptop running. The satellite
phone setting gave him clear signal, even on the road. Tony was on
his phone and Jaz on hers.

“Yes. We’re
civil service. Can you hold the London flight until one of our
people gets to you?” Jaz said and she paused waiting for an answer
from Manchester airport security.

“Yes his name
please” Tony asked the police man on the other end of the line,
looking at Shadz who’s hands hovered over the laptop which was
showing the airport booking system, which they had been able to
access with DIC technical help.

Tony looked at
his watch. Ten past ten. He prayed they’d get the name, hold the
flight and get there in time.

“Talk to Chief
Inspector Phelan. He’s been working with our team….” A pause.
“We’re national Security.. top level… name ….” Jaz looked
desperately at Tony. He looked back and nodded gravely. “We’re
called DIC. Our members are elite, armed and carry a diplomatic
pass.” She paused and waited for an answer.

“The name is
Joe Milton…” Tony exclaimed.

Shadz began
scrolling the names, there it was.

“He’s booked on
the ten thirty flight!” Shadz exclaimed.

“You will.
Brilliant! DIC personnel will be there in about twenty minutes. Can
you call the airport security and armed police to get to the
plane…. Okay then put me through please.” Jaz said smiling at the
other two.

Cobb’s taxi
driver had broken the speed limit getting to the airport, it was
near enough twenty miles, but they were there by twenty past ten.
Cobb overpaid the taxi driver, entered near the W H Smiths and took
the lift to check in. This was the tricky bit, but he knew these
pass holders were on his trail and he had a badge and plan.

Jaz stared at
the un-scrolling road ahead talking to the chief of airport
security.

“Yes please go
to check in and wait, yes go armed and wait for one of our people
to get there. We carry diplomatic passes with the right to bear
arms. Yes. Thank you.”

“Better get
ready.” Tony took his Sig out and checked the action.

“How many times
do you have to whip that thing out and cock it?” Jaz asked. Shadz
looked at Tony and laughed.

“Just checking
and you’d better check yours too, both of you.” Shadz stopped
laughing.

“Sorry Tony.
Just nervous, you know.” Shadz said a little embarrassed.

Cobb approached
the check in desk just in time. There was a smiling well manicured
girl at the desk.

“The seat’s
booked in the name of Joe Milton” Cobb said smiling.

She looked at
her booking terminal and keyed in the name. The confirmed booking
in for the flight was flagged up in security who radioed the men
who were already on their way to the desk. They had been watching
the screens, but no-one matching Cobb’s description, with or
without glasses had been spotted.

The girl gave
Cobb a suspicious look as he handed her Wally’s DIC pass as
Identity.

“It’s my boss’
name he booked it early this morning for me.”

The girl looked
at the official government pass and then looked past him. Cobb
turned to the direction of her gaze and noted airport security and
armed police heading his way from the left. He was ready for this.
He held onto the badge. He felt the silent PSS 6 shot pistol hard
against his stomach, tucked into his wait band. He had two left in
the magazine and a full six shot clip in his pocket.

The armed
police drew and pointed their weapons at him. The girl slid beneath
the level of the desk and crawled away. People around ducked behind
seats and moved away, though still watching with horrid
fascination. Terrorism was all over the news.

“Hands in the
air no sudden movements!” One of the policemen loudly
commanded.

Cobb turned
around holding the pass up.

“Are you
armed?”

“Yes and you’re
meant to be helping me.” Cobb said calmly watching their eyes.

The policeman
approached, two circled Cobb still pointing MP5’s at him.

The officer
asked “Where’s the weapon.”

Cobb nodded
down with his head. The policeman took the PSS pistol. Cobb waved
the pass slowly raising his eyebrows. The policeman took it. He
flipped it open and looked it over, noted the right to be armed,
looked at Cobb’s face, the hair, the general look.

“Wait a minute
you the DIC man?”

“Yes!” Cobb
smiled. He had a feeling this would happen. So that’s what they
were called. He’d never heard of them before, perhaps they were new
like the U.S homeland security.

“Why didn’t you
say?”

“Waiting for
the right moment, you know, always tricky with these gun situations
you know.”

“Right.” The
policeman said seeing the sense of Cobb’s calm compliance.

The airport
security chief came running up, he had seen the pass and gun handed
back from a distance.”

“You the DIC
man?” the security chief asked. Cobb nodded “Your man checked in
and he’s on the plane do you want it stopped?” The security chief
added.

“No not now.
I’ll get on with him and follow him. He may lead us to his
cell.”

“Good thinking.
There’s just time to get you on the flight. I’ll make sure there’s
a seat.”

Cobb tasted
DIC’s VIP treatment as he was rushed through the security control
and made it to the door of the plane which was being held for him.
He noted its closing and the jet engines firing up as the Easyjet
A320 Airbus began to taxi. He was shown to his allotted seat and
passed his booked seat on the way. He couldn’t help but smile, but
as he sat down he knew that in an hour they’d be waiting for him in
London. He had an hour to find a plan to get off the plane at
Gatwick and get away.

After the plane
had taken off the DIC team had arrived and Tony had been in the
middle of an angry ‘why couldn’t you have done as we asked’ rant at
the security chief when he was told in a slow controlled voice that
a DIC man had got onto the plane. After some confusion the truth
emerged and red faced the DIC team were taken to the security
centre. In the security office Jaz was staring at the CCTV screen
looking for all intents and purposes at the figure of Wally at the
check in desk surrounded by security.

“He had the
badge you described. He was armed as described and he wasn’t in any
way ruffled or troublesome.” The security chief, a big man with a
close shaved head and sharp focussed pale blue eyes stood arms
folded, a look of self satisfied confidence on his face.

“But he’d
checked in for the seat in the name of Joe Milton.”

“We didn’t know
that. When we got to the gate he was there. When we drew weapons
the check in girl ducked and got out of the way. As far as we were
able to tell the one who booked in the name of Milton had got on
the plane already and the man with badge was following”

Tony laughed
harshly.

“My god these
guys are good. Some front he’s got using Wally’s pass. He must have
got a wig.”

“Wigs Up North
is best. My uncle got his there.” They all looked at a big build
armed policeman at the back of the room.

“I bet it’s
near Gun Street right.”

“That’s right
Reddenhill Road.”

Tony shook his
head again and again. Shadz walked in looking grim.

“Jack is not
happy. We’re booked on the next flight to Gatwick, which by the way
is on full alert. The pilot knows he has an armed assassin on the
plane and they’re ready for anything.”

“When’s our
flight?”

“Half an hour
and we have to check in early. Weapons and technical stuff to go in
the hold by the way”

“Okay let’s
go.”

When they had
left the security chief looked at the policeman.

“Who the hell
are DIC?”

“I’ve never
heard of them?”

“I checked with
the home office and they said they’re top level secret wouldn’t say
any more about it.”

“Well they
aren’t that good I mean they cocked this right up.”

“You certain
they did?”

“Well they
didn’t check to see if their dead operative’s pass was missing did
they?”

“Good thinking.
Hopefully that puts us in the clear if he hijacks the plane.”

“You think he
will?”

“Well he must
know they’ll be waiting at Gatwick for him. What’s he going to do
jump out over the Midlands?”

Chapter
57

Glasgow

10-30 a.m.

April 18th

Wheeler avoided
the shopping centres and went down market. Cash shops mostly,
stacks of jeans, cheap sweaters and cheerful, thick socks and clean
pants. He bought a razor, deodorant, soap and a towel in a pound
shop and left the assistant thinking that he’d rarely seen anyone
more in need of the items.

It was ten
thirty when with a handful of plastic bags he got on a bus and
headed back to Buchanon bus station. He checked the time and went
to the toilets. He put the pants, socks, jeans and the old boots on
in a cubicle. It wasn’t an unknown sight for down and outs to wash
there. One or two patrons gave him looks as he washed and shaved at
the sink. In the last ten minutes he was alone drying himself and
putting on the new clothes. His bus was due to leave twenty minutes
later.

Chapter
58

Glasgow

10 - 40 a.m.

April 18th

David and
Beaumont had dumped their rucksacks on each of the single beds in a
twin room of the Glasgow Thistle hotel on Cambridge Street.

Both were
tired. They'd picked up their car at Glasgow airport and made their
way to the hotel. The airport was twenty odd miles outside the city
centre and once in the city the traffic had been thick and David
didn’t like driving. He took four wrong turns and lost them some
time. After check in they’d ordered hot drinks and made their way
to the rooms. Neither of them was in a good mood, the night before
catching up on them and Beaumont was in a worse mood because of
David’s driving.

A knock at the
door signalled room service coffee and in Beaumont’s case a slice
of chocolate cake.