Whiskey Lima Golf, page 14
“We wait,” Tom replies, then adds before ending the call, “I’ll send you a message.”
Popping his earbud out, Tom sips his coffee again and attempts to listen, above the noise of the pensioners, to the conversation two tables over. He sends a message to Dani, ‘Sorry Dani, too hard to talk, I’m trying to listen to their conversation, the other two men are Greeks.’
Wondering what two Greeks and an Algerian are meeting about, Tom listens in, catching snippets of their conversation.
Stefanos is the loudest, “… As Aristotle once said, a common danger unites even the bitterest enemies… ahh coffee!”
As the waiter takes their order, Tom attempts to listen in to some more. But the pensioners are loudly laughing at an old dad joke. The Algerian moves in closer to hear and Tom faintly makes out Stefanos saying, “…due in port next week… don’t worry, Erasmos is the new Captain…”
The waiter interrupts his eavesdropping as he delivers Tom’s fish, “Here you are sir, I hope you enjoy your meal. A small favour if you wouldn’t mind, can you please leave a review on our website.”
Tom nods to the waiter, “Sure, sure.” He picks up his utensils, and the waiter retreats back to the counter.
With a mouthful of fish, Tom refocuses on the conversation at the adjoining table, “…yes, yes… Chabarha…”
Tom downs his coffee, taps some notes into his smart phone He sends them to Dani, thinking, ‘I wonder where Chabarha is? Maybe India?’
The men all burst out laughing, as the waiter arrives at their table with their espressos.
Tom’s phone vibrates and he pops his earbud back in and answers the call with half a mouthful of fish, “Yesh?”
Dani asks, “Is it Chabarha or Chabahar?”
“I’m not sure, why?”
Connor replies, “Chabarha looks like it’s an Indian surname but Chabahar is a major port in Iran.”
“What’s the context, Tom?” Dani asks.
“Shit, it’s the second one. I’d better sign off,” Tom whispers quietly as he ends the call. His mind races, ‘What the hell are the Greeks and Iranians up to?’
His phone vibrates again. He takes a quick look at the text message from Koro, ‘In position,’
Tom breathes a sign of relief, ‘Good, at least we can follow one of them.’ He shovels in another mouthful of food, and sends a reply, ‘You two follow the Arab wearing a grey jacket.’
Quickly eating the remainder of his fish, Tom watches the men drink their coffee while making small talk. Putting his cutlery on his plate as he finishes his last mouthful, he grabs his crutches and makes his way to the counter to pay, before the men finish.
“Great meal thanks and can I get a GST receipt, please,” Tom compliments the hard working waiter.
Chairs scrape across the wooden floor. Tom guesses the men are coming towards him. Without looking behind him, he heads out the door as a taxi pulls up with a familiar face in the back seat. Rapidly closing the distance, Tom says to Devon as he opens the door, “Scoot across bro,” and he climbs into the taxi.
Addressing the astonished taxi driver, “This might sound weird, but can you keep the meter running and just wait here a moment please?”
The driver looks at Devon, questioning, “Is this okay, sir?”
Devon laughs, winking at the driver, “It’s okay Trang, I know this character. Next thing, he’ll ask you to do is to follow a car. Just like a real old-school detective. Let’s just humour him, eh?”
Trang shakes his head. “As long as you are paying sir.”
Turning to Tom, Devon raises his left eyebrow questioningly.
Tom opens the notes app on his phone and shows Devon, Two Greeks, one a ship Captain, common enemy, Chabahar, Iran port, not Algerian, Iranian.
Devon nods. “Good work brother, now the real work begins. Here they come.”
The three men exit the restaurant, shake hands and head in different directions.
Tom calls Koro, “Okay, the two heading away from you are yours. We’ve got the single.”
Devon asks, “Trang, you see that man in the grey jacket? When I tell you, can you please slowly follow him?”
Wondering what is going on, Trang asks, “Are you allowed to do this? Is this legal?”
Pulling his wallet from his jacket pocket, Devon sorts through his cards and shows one to Trang, “It’s okay, we are licensed investigators.”
Looking at the official card with Devon’s photo ID, Trang replies, “All right. This is a first for me.”
Frankie and Koro pass them going in the opposite direction, “Thanks, now he’s getting into that blue car, when he pulls out, count to three and then follow him.”
Tom zooms his phone’s camera in on the car and snaps a couple of photos. “I’ll send these to the office and see if we can trace the number plate when we get back.”
Trang eagerly turns his engine over, “Well this is exciting. A real detective car chase!”
“Hopefully, we won’t be doing a high-speed chase, just following slowly so we don’t get noticed,” Tom replies.
“Oh, of course,” Trang sounds a little disappointed, “There he goes.”
“Count to three!” Devon reminds him as Trang starts to pull out.
Trang looks behind him, to make sure the road is clear. A red car passes them as Trang manoeuvres the taxi out behind it onto Evans Bay Parade slowly shadowing the blue car.
Tom sends the photos to Connor, then looks up from his phone. They are passing a dog exercise park. Just ahead, the blue car indicates a right turn into Rata Road.
“Where’s he going?” Trang asks, “Shall I still follow him?”
“Yes, but slow down. We are getting a bit close,” Devon instructs. The red car passes their target and goes straight ahead.
Slowing and indicating the same turn, the blue car speeds in front of an oncoming car leading a trail of traffic from the lights, the offended lead car sounds his horn in surprise at being cut off.
Trang waits for the line of cars to pass, then makes a turn into Rata Road eventually. “I think we might have lost him.” He sounds disappointed.
“Let’s see once we get around the corner.” Tom opens his phone and selects an app.
Driving up the hill they turn the corner to discover that the blue car has disappeared.
Pointing to a street coming up on their left, Trang asks confused, “Which way Sir?”
“Straight ahead please, Trang,” Devon says. “And could you go a little faster?”
Trang powers his Toyota Prius up Rata Road to the next turn, rounding the corner, he cries out, “There, there, do you see it?”
Devon grins, “Good work Trang. Let’s see where he goes.”
Following at a safe distance, they see the blue car turn left into Kainui Road. Tom has the map app open on his phone and does a search of the nearby area.
They turn into Kainui Road. Trang cries, “It’s gone again!”
“Just head up to the intersection,” Tom instructs, looking at his phone.
At the ‘Give Way’ sign on the next intersection, Trang deflated asks, “Which way now?”
“Turn right into Waipapa,” Tom instructs. “I think I know where he’s going.”
“If it’s safe, you can speed up a little Trang,” Devon advises.
“That’s it, veer left into Arawa Road and straight on past the school.”
“Just as well it’s not three, or we wouldn’t be moving at all with the yummy mummies picking up their precious little kids,” Trang observes, “Which way now?”
“Turn right into Hataitai Road, then right again into Te Anau,” Tom directs.
“Where are you taking us?” Devon asks.
“You’ll see bro.”
The Toyota’s wheels squeal slightly as Trang tightly corners into Te Anau, excitedly yelling, “There he is!”
“Okay Trang, slow down a little and keep driving past him when he turns off to the right down here,” Tom commands.
The blue car pulls into a short driveway on the right, stopping before a gate, which is slowly opening automatically. Tom snaps a quick photo as they drive past heading downhill.
“What now?” Trang asks.
“Keep going around a few more corners until we are out of sight,” Tom tells him, then turning to Devon, “What do you want me to do now, bro?”
Thinking for a minute, Devon decides, “Okay, let me off down here, I’ll walk back up and see what I can, and I’ll meet you both back at the Haitaitai Road intersection and we’ll take it from there.”
***
Friday Midday
“We almost lost them twice,” Koro leans back in his chair at the office table.
“Where was that?” Connor eagerly asks wide-eyed.
“Once at the lights coming off Evans Bay Parade and then again we almost got in the wrong lane coming around the Basin Reserve,” Koro recounts.
“If you hadn’t seen him change lanes, Rangi, I would have missed the turn off to Cambridge Terrace,” Frankie concedes.
“So where did they end up?” Dani asks.
“They darted across to Hania Street and parked in between the Greek Community Centre and the Orthodox Church,” Frankie answers.
“So over here,” Dani pushes a pin into the map of Wellington on the cork board, then pins a photo of the two Greek men next to the map and ties a red ribbon from the men to the pin on the map.
The front door bangs open as Devon and Tom return from their tailing of the Iranian. They make their way into the office, and Tom slumps down into a free chair.
“How did you get on?” Tom begins, then seeing the photos and red ribbon, compliments, “Oh, good work, so what’s there?” He points to the map.
Connor looks up from his computer, “Apart from the Greek Church and Community Centre, there is also the Greek Embassy… not many secrets from Uncle Google. How’d you guys get on?”
“We tracked the ‘Algerian’ to the Iranian Embassy in Te Anau Road,” explains Devon.
Tom rubs his face with his hands. “Now the hard work begins, trying to work out what are the Greeks doing talking with an Iranian agent?”
“Brain storming time, team. No idea is a bad idea,” Devon adds.
“So, what do we know about the Greeks and the Iranians in general?” Tom asks.
Dani pins up another photo and extends more red ribbon to the Iranian Embassy’s map position.
Silence envelopes the office as everyone thinks of something positive to contribute.
Connor’s finger tips are at work on his keyboard.
Frankie clears his throat, “The only thing I know is that Alexander the Great, invaded Persia back in the day and Greece controlled a huge area there for many years. But that was a few hundred years BC.”
“Thanks Frankie, what about more recently?” Tom asks.
“Here’s a regional map,” Connor points to the screen, “and Turkey is the only country between them.”
Devon remembers, “Of course, you’re right! When we were in Syria Tom, the Iranians were supporting Assad’s regime and Turkey was supporting the Sunni rebels.”
Dani excitedly adds, “Ow, ow, I visited Cyprus eighteen months ago. It’s still split in two. The Turks are in the north and the Greek Cypriots in the south. Beautiful beaches and the clearest blue water I’ve ever swum in,” Dani recalls, “When I was talking with some of the locals over a glass of ouzo in the taverna, they were still pretty dark on the Turks.”
“So is it possible that Turkey could be their common enemy and they could be working together?” Connor asks.
“Yes, but on what?” Tom muses thinking aloud, “Something to do with that Greek ship Captain.”
“I might be able to help there,” Koro offers. “I’ll check with my wharfie mates tonight at the pub. Do you want to come, Frankie?”
“Depends on the pub Rangi… and who’s buying.”
“We’ll also have to put a watch on both the Embassies,” Tom suggests, ‘and somehow follow the Iranian agent.”
“Yeah brother, he’s the key,” Devon agrees. “We have to find out what he’s up to. But we don’t really have enough resources to watch the embassy twenty-four-seven.”
“Er… Connor showed me something while you guys were out, that might help us,” Dani hesitantly discloses.
Everyone turns to look at Connor, who turns a bright shade of red, “Well… I was going to ask, but… well, I just couldn’t help myself,” Connor hesitates, then takes a deep breath, “Let me show you, and if you don’t like it, I can delete it.” Connor opens up new windows and activates his new software programmes. He begins cautiously, “Devon, don’t shoot me man… okay, if we take these photos and drop them into this facial recognition programme, they become targets that can be picked up by this CCTV network.”
“Ah, what network are you in Connor?” Devon asks.
“Oh… a few. There’s the City Council’s and Regional Council’s networks, the NZTA traffic network, which will also pick up the number plate recognition programme here. Oh and the Metlink cameras,” Connor confesses nervously, “I haven’t started on the private security camera systems yet.”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, Connor, what you’ve done is impressive… but it’s illegal and we can’t really cross that line,” Devon gently remarks.
Seeing the rejection on Connor’s face, Tom quickly thinks, then pipes up, “Hang in there Connor, I’ve got an idea.
“I know that look Tom! What are you up to?” Devon asks.
“Look Dev, it would save us a lot of time and give us a shit ton more flexibility.” Tom picks up his phone and sends a text. He looks up at Connor. “Okay Connor, let’s put those two number plates into your computer, and put Kendrick’s photo in as well.”
Dani walks over to Connor, saying softly, “See I told you they would listen.”
“Must be time for a brew,” Koro announces, “I’ll get the jug on.”
***
Friday Early Afternoon
“That’s a remarkable achievement,” George nods after hearing the briefing, his gravelly voice breaking the silence that followed. “And as for the acquisition of the CCTV networks and other surveillance software Connor…”
“I know it’s not strictly legal sir,” Tom starts, “But Connor showed some good initiative.”
“It absolutely isn’t,” George interrupts. “Legally you can’t use it.”
“But then what these other agents are up to isn’t legal either,” Frankie adds.
Drumming his fingers on the edge of the office table, deep in thought, George muses, “As this is a ‘Dark’ operation and deniable from the government’s point of view, I think you might have a little leeway here… Hmm…”
“We haven’t picked up anything yet, but we only started using it an hour ago,” Connor concedes.
George stops drumming his fingers. “Devon, get a copy of the ethical surveillance policy from work and get everyone here to sign it. Dani, set up a register and I want every photo and number plate recorded that you feed into that software along with any results it turns up, be exact with dates and times. This will give you all some guidelines and accountability.”
“Thanks sir, it might just help even the odds for us,” Tom adds, “I want to run this software as ethically as I can, because you are our only real oversight.”
“Connor, I’m glad you are working for us, keep up the good work,” George looking at his watch sighs, “Sorry I can’t stay. Another policy meeting to round out the week.”
“The joys of being a public servant, eh?” Koro says cheekily.
Laughing, George replies as he turns to leave, “Touché Rangiwahia. Touché.”
A beaming Connor calls Dani over, “Let’s get started on this register.”
“I guess I’d better get that policy wording sorted this arvo,” Devon sighs, “Nothing like more paperwork.”
“I can type it up if you like Devon,” Dani offers.
“I’m starting to feel a bit redundant here Frankie, what about you?” Koro asks.
“What time will your wharfie mates be at the pub, Koro?” Tom asks suggestively.
“Huh, any time these days. There isn’t a defined shift timetable since they broke the unions up in the eighties. Stevedoring is all private contracting companies these days and mostly temp work,” Koro relays, not reading between the lines.
“So, we could go now, then? A late liquid lunch perhaps?” Frankie asks.
“Now you’re talking! I’ll just get my jacket,” Koro replies enthusiastically.
Laughing, Tom makes his way over to Connor, “Alright, let’s see what CCTV coverage we have around those two embassies.”
***
Friday Early Evening
Looking up from the computer that Connor is working on, Tom sees Devon pulling his suit jacket on, “What time are we taking the girls out Dev?”
“I’m picking Taylor up from the gym at eight, and we’ll meet you and Dani back here just after that.”
“Fast work skux! Dani is hot!” Connor compliments Tom.
Devon bursts out laughing as Tom protests, “Not you, too! This is a bloody conspiracy. Dev did you prime him?”
Devon holds his hands up defensively, “Not me brother, he’s worked this one out himself.”
“Come on, spill the tea dude,” Connor prompts.
Taking a breath, Tom collects himself, “Sorry Connor, no gossip to tell. Dev and I thought we’d catch some stand-up acts a bit later tonight, then we invited Taylor our gym instructor and Dani to join us. It’s definitely not a date.”
Suddenly a red banner flashes across the top of the main computer screen.
“Hey, what’s that Connor?” Devon asks.
Connor swivels back to read his screen, “Looks like you guys might be late for your date tonight. That’s the number plate recognition alert. The Iranian car has just passed Hataitai Beach on Evans Bay Parade. What do we do?”
