To Kill Or Be Killed (40 page)

“Hi. I’m logged
on over there. I’ve got this disk and I want to send some pictures
to a friend. Can I do that?”

“No. We have
USB connectors for accessing pictures to put on profiles, but no
drives.”

“Right thanks
very much.”

Stanton walked
away knowing that he needed a laptop. He could steal one or he
could ask his contacts to get him one. He made his way to Victoria
station and descended into the tube. It was three stops south bound
on the Victoria line and straight walk up the Clapham Road. He kept
his hood up, even on the underground.

It was a modern
reception, light wood, fish tank in the wall. As soon as Stanton
walked in he saw Brook sitting at the table, on soft grey, high
backed chairs across from the reception desk. Stanton had his hood
down, but his woolly hat on and the waterproof coat was done up to
the chin.

Brook
instinctively knew it was Stanton, the eyes below the hat were hard
edged and hunted looking. He rose and greeted him warmly, putting
on a show for the receptionist.

“Anton thank
god for that we thought you’d remember what we said.”

“Yes. I haf
been walking lots since we separate and I remember Belgrave Hotel.”
Stanton affected a foreign accent.

He was sure the
man was the contact. He had the ‘smell’ of secrecy and double
dealing about him that Stanton had learnt to see in his years in
the ‘trade’. The girl simply thought them daft older men, her mind
unable to see through the layers of deceit both men wore as a
matter of habit.

Stanton was
shepherded him out of reception, before the girl had a chance to
get a good view of his face.

“Thank you so
much.” Brook said to the girl. “I knew he’d remember eventually and
it was good of you to let us shelter from the rain.”

“Goodbye.” The
girl watched them leave. The hotel wasn’t much of a landmark for
tourists to use as a meeting point if they got lost, but it took
all sorts.

Telford was
parked across the road watching the entrance. He’d seen the figure
go in and watched Brook emerge with him. They rushed across to the
car and Brook got in the back with Stanton.

Brook was
careful. He didn’t know Stanton was unarmed. Stanton wasn’t shocked
to have a snub nose thirty eight revolver pointed at him from
Telford turning round in the driver seat.

“Frisk him.”
Brook ran his hands through Stanton’s pockets. He found no weapon.
He did find the disk and held it up.

“What’s
this?”

“Research,
it’ll help me get the job done, possibly. I need a laptop to access
the information.

“Let’s go, just
drive away from the hotel and park up further up the road.”

Telford drove
up the Clapham Road and parked near the junction with Ellias
Place.

Brook got out
and went to the boot of the car. He brought out two cases, one with
a laptop and one with the ‘materials’ for the job. Brook got back
into the car.

“Let’s start
with the fact that this job is near enough compromised.” Brook
began. “I’ve got to warn you that there are people watching.”

“DIC, I know
all about them. They have no idea of what the job entails or where
I’m going, mind you neither do I for that matter.”

Brook handed
him the case. Stanton opened it and saw the bomb, a lime green Bic
disposable cell phone and an envelope. Stanton opened the envelope
read the details and whistled.

“Wow. That’s
got to be worth a million when I pull that one off. I hope you guys
have a good exit plan for me.”

“We have. You
do the job and phone the single number in this cell phone. You get
picked up by us and taken to a place to lie low. Then you get paid
and you’re sneaked out of the country.”

Stanton
nodded.

“Do you know
about a civil service agency call the DIC.” Stanton asked.

Brook’s eyes
met Telford’s in the rear view mirror.

“We’ve heard of
them yeah, what about them?” Brook asked.

“Have you got
that laptop?” Stanton put all the materials back in the case,
except the envelope. “Oh and could you give me a pistol of some
sort?”

This time he
saw the look the men gave each other in the rear view mirror.

“I’ll hand you
the case and you can put the weapon in and leave it on the front
seat until you drop me off.”

Brook nodded.
Telford unlocked and opened the glove compartment, pulled out a
nine millimetre browning, a silencer and a single clip. Stanton
passed him the case and sat back.

“You want me to
use the bomb?”

“Yes. It’ll
make it look like terrorism.”

“It isn’t
terrorism?”

“No. He needs
removing. He’s inconvenient and we’re behind the man who wants to
replace him.”

“That’s fine
with me.”

“Now about DIC,
what’s on the disk?” Brook asked.

David was very
late. He’d got stuck in traffic around Vauxhall Bridge and his bad
driving skills hadn’t helped extricate him from that. The Satnav
wasn’t helping. He got to the Priory Arms long after he could have
and picked up Liam. Relieved that Liam could drive he let him, but
it was just a short drive around the corner. They got to the
Belgrave Hotel at two thirty.

“We’re
government security officers, we’re looking for this man. He held
up the photo. “Have you seen him?”

“No. I
haven’t.” The girl at reception hadn’t seen enough of Stanton to
match him to the photo.

“Has anyone
been here and left a message or sat waiting?”

The girl paused
thinking. It hadn’t been a busy morning and she was none too bright
and very bored, day dreaming most of the empty time away, but she
remembered the men.

“Yes, about
twenty minutes ago there was a man here said he’d arranged with a
friend to meet outside here if one them got lost. It was raining so
he asked to wait inside. This man turned up all wet. They left. He
called him Anton. The wet man had a German accent.”

McKie looked at
Liam.

“Could be
them.”

“Might not
be.”

“We’d better
wait.”

In the car on
the Clapham Road Brook and Telford were hiding their wide eyed
amazement well. Stanton had told them about how he got the disk. He
told them his plan and how to get into the target’s heavily guarded
residence. Brook and Telford were delighted. As far as Stanton was
concerned they were civilian middle men for a buyer willing to pay
a million for a very tricky kill. The visit to McKie’s house had
supplied him with what he needed and all he’d wanted from that
situation was to know who and where the DIC operatives were, but
now he found that the information on the disk would also help him
get the job done.

Stanton told
them his plan, which again took much acting skill from both MI6 men
not to reveal their pleasure. He took directions to a target
address, from the internet on the laptop, attached to Brook’s cell
phone. When he was done he took the disk out and closed the
computer.

“You want to
leave that disk with us?”

“You want
it?”

“Well it’s
interesting stuff, could be useful, but I was thinking it might be
bad news if you were caught with it.” Brook said.

“You might be
right, but I’ll hang on to it.” Stanton was cautious.

“Well your
employer might be interested. Could sell it for you, take a cut.
Say five percent. He’ll be very happy to do that. Shame if it got
damaged due to falls or bumps.” Brook added willing Stanton to give
him the disk.

Stanton nodded
and handed the disk over.

“Call me a taxi
will you?”

“Sure.” Brook
dialled. “Yeah, Cab please. From Clapham Road at the junction with
Ellias Place to Lord North Street please. Ta mate.” He rang off.
“Fifteen minutes Stanton.”

They waited in
silence in the car it was close to 3pm.Stanton read the target
details and the regular times and likely room locations for the
home address. He handed the envelope back to Brook.

CHAPTER
96

LONDON

3 p.m.

April 19th

Liam and David
were surprised when David was relieved by another DIC man and David
was even more surprised to be driven back to Euston Tower.

“What’s the
deal?” David asked.

“Don’t know Mr
McKie. Jack Fulton sent me with your replacement, said you were
wanted back at the ‘Tower’.” The driver said respectfully. David
McKie was the most talked about man in the building.

London flashed
by as the pool driver made neat work of journey back in spite of
the traffic problems around Vauxhall. David wondered if it was
about that. His bad driving in Scotland had made them late, cost
the time and ultimately led to Beaumont getting shot. Maybe Liam
had been called and they knew he had been late to Vauxhall, making
Liam and himself late to the Belgrave. They might have missed
Stanton due to his lateness.

The car drew up
outside Euston Tower and David went alone into reception. The slow
revolving door made him feel, as all felt, very exposed. He cleared
reception with biometrics and with a glance to the two false lifts
made his way through the ‘real’ entrance. He took the lift to the
floor with Jack’s office on it. Else Patrick was in the waiting
area. She rose from the seat.

“David I’m Else
Patrick.”

“Hello. I take
I’ve been called back for a chat.”

“You could call
it that. My Office is on this floor. Come with me.”

They made their
way along a corridor and she held a door open for him. It was an
innocuous enough room, comfortable and friendly. There was no table
and no other furniture than two soft arm chairs. David sat down and
Else sat opposite.

“Where do we
begin?” David asked.

“How has your
appetite been?”

“Fine,
really.”

“You look like
you keep healthy, anyway. How have you been sleeping?”

“Not well. I
had a bad dream too.”

“You had a bad
dream? Have you had bad dreams before?”

“When I was
very small, yes.”

“What were they
about?”

“As far as I
remember they were mostly about my dad, being hurt, he was a
soldier you see.”

“I see and this
current dream?”

David told her
the dream. She took no notes and watched him intensely. When he was
finished she spoke.

“You had to be
the man of the house when your father was away. It’s a burden for a
boy, especially an only child. You feel the need to protect people
quite a lot and express it through your work, public service with
customs and now this. You took on the responsibility, by coming
here today, for the capture of Stanton. It’s natural and in your
nature now to be a protector. The dream indicates that you feel you
are failing, not able to protect. Your father represents the
protecting parent.”

“My wife said
that.”

“You told her
the dream.”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.
Are you able to talk to her, as much as the job allows, about
what’s bothering you?”

“Yes she’s very
supportive.”

“Good.”

“How do you
feel about the assassins?”

“I can’t
believe they have such a careless attitude towards human life.”

“How did you
feel when Stanton had been in your house?”

“At the time,
well at first fear, then anger and when I got the upper hand, the
job kicked in and I tried to take him alive.”

“Did you want
to kill him?”

“Not then, at
that moment when I had the gun in my hand, but afterwards I was
angry. He’d invaded our house. My wife is pregnant, I was very
angry.”

“How do you
feel about Wheeler?”

“I feel quite
at ease now. I had guilt, nausea and then I felt relieved I was
alive.”

“That’s
natural. Has the incident with Stanton changed your feelings about
Wheeler?”

“No. It’s
changed my view of killing though.”

“What do you
mean?”

“Well before I
thought I couldn’t have done it, but then when I had to shoot I did
and I felt awful afterwards, but I know that I can now, but I also
know I have a choice. I don’t have to kill, but I can if I need
to.”

“If you come
across Stanton will you kill him?”

“Only if I have
to.”

“You don’t want
revenge for the invasion of your home?”

“No that was
business on his part. No if we end up face to face and he’s going
to kill me then I’ll get in first.”

“Kill or be
killed?”

“That’d be it.
That’s what it’s about. In this job, at the moment it boils down to
kill or be killed. Stanton, Wheeler and the rest they kill first.
I’ll only kill if they try to kill me or anyone else.”

“That’s
healthy. Did you cry at all?”

“Yes when I got
home and saw my wife and son.”

“Good. Take
moments to grieve and don’t lose touch with yourself. I can see
that you might get stressed from trying to protect too many people.
You can’t protect everyone and you aren’t responsible for every bad
thing that happens as a result of these men or any other trouble
makers.”

“What about
those who are responsible?”

“What do you
mean?”

“Someone
brought those men here and set them loose. It might be a man called
Sternway, what about protecting people from him?”

“That’s a
different job, but if you can bring the people behind this to
justice will it make you feel better?”

“A little, but
what’s done is done and can’t be undone, it won’t bring the dead
back.”

“Would you like
the person responsible for this to suffer?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.
To feel what I feel, to feel as those families do, the ones left
behind.”

“It would be
good if they did, they seldom do.”

“How do I stop
my anger about that when all of this is done?”