Dark Winter ns-6 Page 25

  Suzy let the map fall to the floor and picked up the nearest book of tickets. Three or four had already been used. ‘They’d done their recces, then. Bastards.’ She went back to cleaning the bottles as I took a look around. In days gone by the room had probably been an office storage area, about fifteen metres square, no windows. NBC boots had left a trail of blood and shit across the lino. Sheets of plasterboard and old grey metal filing cabinets littered the area. Four brand new sleeping-bags had been unrolled in one corner. Rubbish, both old and new, was strewn all over the place.

  Empty aerosol cans littered the floor, and the walls were sprayed red with a series of messages in Malay, Arabic and Chinese, punctuated from time to time with vivid red-painted handprints. There was even a Kiblat pointing east.

  I looked over at the Chinaman who’d jumped me, now sprawled face down on the floor. The holes in his head weren’t leaking any more, but his jet-black hair was matted and glistened in the lantern light. He was no older than thirty, and dressed in jeans, new multicoloured Nikes and a dark blue jumper.

  We needed to get going. ‘Fuck checking upstairs – they’d have been down here by now. Let’s get the bottles and fuck off. Throw me a sleeping-bag, will you?’

  She tossed me one from the corner, the sort that could unzip all the way round so it turned into a blanket, and set about pulling the plastic cylinders out of the sports bags. I moved back to the stash of bottles and placed the first carefully in the bottom of the sleeping-bag, gave it a couple of protective turns, then put in the next and gave it two more.

  ‘Everything else will stay here,’ I pointed over at the clothes, ‘including the cells. If the Yes Man sees them moving without knowing we have them, he’ll take action, thinking we’ve fucked up. Besides, he’ll already have every number these phones have called. We’re just here for DW.’

  Suzy frowned. ‘Including King’s Lynn, we’ve got four down, four sets of kit, but only three bags?’

  ‘We’ll have a quick look after packing. I want to get out ASAP and get this shit handed over.’

  Three bottles later, Suzy took the roll from me and placed it in the first sports bag. It wasn’t long before the two others were full. We couldn’t find a fourth bag, so headed downstairs. The wind and rain were still going for it, big-time. I could see the Metropolitan Police sign lit up outside the station, through the window on the landing. ‘That’s all we need.’

  We moved swiftly across and started down the stairs. Suzy was still on a high. ‘Fuck ’em, we’ll just box around it back to the car.’

  We slipped back into the kebab shop, ripped off the NBC kit, rolled it up and threw it into the ready bags. The sweat had cooled on the back of my neck by the time I pulled out the jams in 297. We didn’t bother unloading the weapons. I could hear Suzy breathing rapidly through her nose, trying to calm herself.

  With all the kit stowed and the Browning back in my sweat-soaked jeans, I shouldered my ready bag, and one of the bags of DW, and carried another in my hand.

  Suzy still had her rubber gloves on and was using her fleece to wipe the prints off the lock and key. I wasn’t going to rush her. Finally she stood up and smiled. ‘What’s keeping you? Let’s go.’ The padlock and key went into her fleece pocket, then she pulled her cuffs over the rubber gloves to disguise them. ‘I don’t know about you,’ she said, ‘but I’ve got an urgent appointment with Mr Nicorette.’

  I used the Maglite to locate the steel fixings wedged in the door, pulled them out and threw them into the bag. Then all torchlight was extinguished, ready to exit.

  Suzy was behind me with her two bags. While I listened, she leant forward, ready to pull the door back. There was nothing out there but the wind and the rain. I nodded and she opened up. Light poured into the hallway and the first thing I heard was rain bouncing off the pavement.

  I waited as the wind attacked my sweat: there was no rush. We wanted to get out quickly, but also do it correctly. I listened for footsteps, heard nothing. I looked out. Two people were hunched under a collapsing umbrella, walking away from us, no one else in sight. That was it, time to go. I stepped out into the rain with two bags over my shoulder, the other in my hand, my eyes fixed on the police station. The wind was cold as it attacked my wet clothes, which were getting even wetter.

  I heard the door close behind me and the shaft click back into the hasp. ‘All done.’ We turned left, away from the station towards King’s Cross Bridge and the stern of the ship. Suzy put the key away in her fleece just as sirens started in the distance and two police officers, a man and a woman in bright yellow fluorescent jackets, appeared from round the bend of Gray’s Inn Road. Luck was with us: they were on the other side of the road and bent over, protecting themselves from the driving rain. They weren’t bothered at the sight of us and our bags, or even Suzy dumping the key down a drain. There were plenty of people like that around here, normally trying to find a doorway to sleep in.

  46

  We slid the three sports bags carefully into the rear footwells of the Mondeo, then slung our ready bags into the boot.

  Even though she was soaked to the skin, her hair plastered against her head, Suzy was still on a high. ‘Did you see all that writing and the handprints?’

  I nodded. ‘Yeah, same as the nine/eleven crew, I reckon – these fuckers wanted the world to know who they are and why they did it.’

  Suzy got the key into the ignition. ‘It can’t have been DW in those spray cans. The girl must have gone back to spray the place up.’

  I reached under my seat and retrieved the moan-phone. Suzy’s priority was her gum: she got chewing as soon as she’d pulled away from the kerb. Her jaws and the wipers were working overtime.

  Rainwater dripped from my hair and nose on to the phone keys as I tapped in the Yes Man’s number.

  ‘Yes?’

  I wondered if he’d ever thought of putting himself through charm school. ‘It’s done, we’re mobile. Three dead—’

  ‘You have Dark Winter?’

  ‘Yeah, twelve bottles. Three vaporizing kits still in the building, but four sets of tube tickets, and maps targeting mainline stations. It’s the tube, it was going to happen tomorrow for sure.’

  ‘Any of the bottles open?’

  ‘No, all still sealed. They’ve sprayed the place and ID’d themselves with handprints. Same cans as we found in King’s Lynn. What about the fourth bag? You reckon we should lift the source? Find out what he knows? There’s something wrong there.’

  There was a pause. ‘There’s always something wrong with those people. We have control of Dark Winter – that is all that matters for now. Wait out.’ His voice went muffled; he must have put a finger over the mike, but I still heard him. ‘We have possible Underground systems, get a message out.’ He came back to me loud and clear. ‘How far are you from Pimlico?’

  We were passing Madame Tussaud’s, heading west, the wipers still in a frenzy. ‘Maybe fifteen minutes, twenty at the most.’

  ‘Yvette is on her way. I want you to leave everything in the car and give her the keys. You’re now weapons free – understand?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Wait out at the flat. I’ll be there later.’ There was a pause. ‘Excellent work, both of you.’ The phone went dead before I realized he was talking to me.

  Suzy powered down her window and turned up the heater, then wiped condensation off the windscreen as rain hit the side of her face. ‘What now?’

  ‘We’re weapons free. The Golf Club’s taking the car, and we have to wait out at the flat. He’ll be arriving later to hand out tea and medals.’

  She smiled ruefully. ‘We did well, Norfolk boy – we really did.’

  I opened the glove compartment and took out a blister pack of antibiotics as her window went back up. ‘Here’s a thing,’ I said. ‘He finished off by saying we’d done an excellent job. Either he’s had a personality transplant, or he had an audience.’

  ‘He’s hardly going to be sitting there on his own.�
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  ‘That’s not what I’m getting at. There were American and German voices in the background earlier today, and when I told him about the tube maps, he called out to someone close by that it was the Underground systems. Systems, plural. We’ve only got one here . . .’

  She thought for a while, rolling the gum between her front teeth with her tongue. ‘I reckon if there are other targets we deserve extra medals and even more tea.’

  ‘You’ll definitely be getting permanent cadre now, won’t you?’

  She didn’t reply. With that grin on her face, she didn’t need to.

  I popped four capsules from the blister pack and passed two across to her. ‘Listen, thanks for helping me out back there. I couldn’t see a fucking thing.’

  ‘You looked a bag of shit.’ She gave me an extra big smile before concentrating once more on the road. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.’

  She was silent for a moment. ‘I suppose you’ll be back to the States soon, seeing Kelly, sorting out stuff?’

  ‘Yeah, and you’ll be watering your hanging plants and all that shit in your conservatory and poncing around in your Blue Lagoon, or whatever it’s called.’

  This time she gave me the sort of expression mothers in supermarkets normally saved for their small children. ‘The conservatory’s only half built, and it’s Blue water , dickhead, the shopping centre. If it was the Blue Lagoon, I wouldn’t worry about seeing it from the kitchen window.’

  We drove into the square.

  ‘Nick?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What if you’re right? What if they are planning attacks in the US? Where does that leave Kelly?’

  I nodded as the white Transit came into view, parked and two-up. I’d been asking myself the same question.

  Suzy found a space nearly opposite the flat, close enough to see the light on in the front room. She killed the engine and we sat there for a moment, listening to the drumming of the rain. ‘Tell you what, Suzy, I’ll stay in the car until the Golf Club comes down. We don’t want any of this lot getting nicked, do we?’

  She pulled out the 9mm from her pancake holster to add to the rest of the ops kit scattered around the car. I shook my head. ‘Better hang on to that, just in case there’s a drama.’ I drew down my own pistol, and stuck it under my thigh. ‘Behind us, further down the road, we’ve got the Transit, two-up. They might be with the Golf Club, but then again they might not. I’ll keep an eye on them, just in case.’

  She checked safe and reholstered. ‘See you in a minute.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t drink the merchandise.’

  She headed for the flat, and as she disappeared inside the hallway I checked traser: it was nearly five. I got my own phone out and called Carmen, keeping an eye on the two-up as best I could through the rain-splattered windows.

  The phone rang and rang, before BT told me that no one was available to take my call but they could take a message. Shit, she had turned off the phone.

  Yvette came out of the front door and down the steps, just her eyes visible through her Gore-Tex storm hood. She was carrying the Packet Echo suitcase.

  I cut off the power, shoved the phone in my bumbag, and checked that the keys were still in the ignition. The Browning went back down my jeans as she opened the driver’s door, put the case in the back and climbed in. ‘Well done, Nick.’ Her voice just about made it through the fabric of the face shield. She pulled it down and I saw her tight cheeks crease into a smile.

  Not sure how to respond, I explained what was in the car and where. She nodded avidly, as if she had more to say and was dying to tell me. ‘This has saved so many lives, Nick.’ She put her hand out and shook mine sheepishly, as if I was royalty. ‘Well done, and thank you.’

  I felt a strange pain in the centre of my chest. I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment: what I normally got was a bollocking, and an instruction to get back under my rock until next time. ‘What now, just wait out?’

  ‘He should be here soon.’

  ‘How many attacks have been planned? This isn’t the only one, is it?’

  It was worth a shot, but she was too much of an old sweat. Her cheeks creased once more. ‘I have to take the vehicle away now, and you have to stay in the flat until he comes.’

  She pushed in the clutch and found first gear. As she turned the ignition key, I pulled the stick back into neutral. ‘Look, I need to know if there are attacks planned in the States. Kelly’s going home to Baltimore this morning. I need to know, should she stay here? Please, she’s just fourteen. She’s already had more than enough shit in her life.’ I suddenly understood how Simon must have felt. I knew begging wouldn’t work, but maybe she had children of her own. It was my only chance: the Yes Man wouldn’t tell me jack shit.

  She lifted her left leg and she released the clutch. ‘You put me in a difficult position, Nick.’

  I fixed her eyes with mine. ‘I’m sorry, she’s all I have. I need to know if she should go back tomorrow or if she’d be safer here.’ It was pointless saying any more.

  She looked out of the windscreen at nothing in particular, and took a couple of uncharacteristically deep breaths. I sat and listened to the engine ticking over for what seemed like for ever. ‘Nick, I think it might be better if she stayed in the UK for just a few more days. Thanks to you and Suzy, things should be resolved by then. You’ll be staying here for a while anyway. I’ll contact you.’

  I opened the door as the clutch went back down and she got in gear. ‘Thank you.’

  She didn’t answer, busying herself with the headlight switch as I got out. As I turned to close the door, another set of lights came on. It was the Transit.

  ‘Nick?’ I bent down so that I could hear her above the noise of the engine. ‘You didn’t mention leaving your weapon . . .’ I jumped back in and pulled the Browning from my jeans and two spare mags from under the seat. ‘It’s still loaded and made ready.’ I couldn’t hold my gratitude. ‘Look, I really want to thank—’

  She waved it away. ‘I just hope Kelly responds well to her therapy.’

  I closed the door, and the car pulled away from the kerb. Sundance and Trainers stared straight ahead as they passed in the Transit. They’d have probably preferred to stay and give me a good kicking, but they had a more important job to do – to make sure no one rammed the Golf Club in the back and damaged the bottles. They were probably heading for one of the Firm’s secure buildings dotted around the city – or maybe the Battersea heliport, en route to Porton Down in Wiltshire, where Simon’s mates could play about with the microbes.

  Now that we were weapons free, that was it, finished, job done.

  47

  Hitting the cell once more, I got the answering-service. ‘Hello, Carmen, it’s Nick. Change of plan – she’ll be able to go to Chelsea on Tuesday after all. Don’t take her to the airport, she needs to stay here. I’ll call later, just don’t go to the airport – it’s important she stays here. I’ll still pay the Mastercard bill.’

  If we got the debriefs done sharpish, I could be in Bromley before they left.

  I pressed the intercom by the front entrance. ‘Hi, honey, I’m home.’

  It was only as I began to climb the stairs that I realized how exhausted I was. The only good thing about being soaked in sweat was that it put a layer of grease between me and my rain-soaked clothes. My eyes stung and my hands stank like a rubber factory as I rubbed my face to get a little life back into it. I needed a good dig out and was gagging for a brew.

  I knocked on the door and she opened it. ‘Nice day at the office, dear? Cup of tea?’

  ‘Good call.’

  I followed her into the kitchen. ‘There’s an attack planned in the States as well. The Golf Club pretty much told me.’

  She turned and leant against the cooker. ‘Oh, shit.’

  ‘Nothing to the Yes Man, OK? She did it for Kelly.’

  She nodded. ‘She say anything about Germany?’

  ‘No, but I bet there is one. Th
is is outrageous. They’d have to co-ordinate so there was no early alert.’

  We both went quiet. She was probably doing the same as me, thinking about the nightmare of just one attack, let alone three. And, as we’d discovered, it wasn’t rocket science. All the ASU needed was DW, some aerosol kit and a few cell phones.

  I cut away from thinking about it. Our part was done. George would have another team out on the ground in the States, trying to locate DW before having to go to government. I guessed the Germans would be doing the same. I thought about Josh and his kids, and what I could do for them.

  I went to the fridge, pulling out two lots of shit-in-a-tray we’d bought after the first source meet. As I ripped off their cardboard sleeves I thought how strange it was that I couldn’t think of anything to say now. Maybe Suzy felt it too: she was certainly concentrating a bit more than necessary on positioning teabags in the mugs.

  I stabbed the Cellophane covering with a fork while she fiddled with spoons and milk cartons.

  ‘What’s for breakfast?’

  ‘I don’t really know.’ I inspected it. ‘White stuff.’ I couldn’t be arsed to check the cover. ‘Chicken, maybe?’

  Her face screwed up in disgust. ‘I’ll give that a miss, I think.’

  Still not looking at me, she busied herself pouring the kettle, then we both just stood there, watching the microwave, waiting for it to go ping. This was getting stupid. ‘Things happen like this, you know.’ I gently touched her shoulder. ‘You’re just beginning to get to know someone, then it all stops. That’s just how it is.’

  She sighed as she squeezed a teabag against the side of the mug. ‘Never mind, Nick, we’ll always have King’s Cross, eh?’ She still wouldn’t look up.

  ‘I suppose I’d better say it was wonderful working with you, something like that.’ It sounded corny, but actually I meant it.