Scorpion's Reach, page 7
“So,” He asked them, “What is it you’re not telling us?” Peter found a chair and sat down. They were still on the front porch.
“What do you mean, not telling you?” Joey asked, trying to sound casual. “We’ve told you all we know,”
Peter actually laughed, not a hearty belly laugh, but a nervous ‘I'm worried and I don’t know why laugh’. He reached out for something, anything would do. Something to take his mind off the worry. “Don’t bullshit me,” He shot back, “first we get the call there’s been an accident and Helen’s seriously hurt, then you folks tell us, rather tell me that the police aren’t doing things right!” He went on. “Then you tell me you’re the person responsible to ship the car back to England. Now I hear you’ve been under the damn thing pulling bits off. AND THAT’S WHILE IT’S STILL IN THE POLICE COMPOUND!!” He turned and looked directly at Sandy. “So, what aren’t you telling us?”
“Dad,” Sandy began."I’m not sure you’ve worked out what I do." She began.
“Even I know the ‘insurance’ bit is a ruse,” he cut her off. “Who is it? MI5?”
“Mr Little,” Joey took it up. “We can’t actually say, but we’re the good guys,” he went on.
“Yes” he twirled the stick he’d found. It was only small, about a quarter inch thick and four inches long. “But we’re the good guys”
“And I’m the pope!” Peter shot back, clearly angry, “You’re telling me half with a big 'But' with a capital ‘B’, now what’s that ‘But’?”
“It’s not easy to say, Mr Little,” Joey replied. “You’re probably not going to,”
“Please Joey,” Peter turned to face him. “It’s Peter or Pete, okay” the ‘formality’ was nice at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.
“And this was no accident, err Pete,” Joey continued. “And before you ask,” he threw the cylinders to him, “here, take a look,”
It took him a full five minutes to explain everything. Joey was surprised at how calm Pete became, considering what he’d just been told. Or was it shock at finding out your daughter might be a target for something so hideously evil, either way he was impressed. ‘Maybe it’s the cop side of him kicking in’ he thought.
“What you’re telling me” Peter was getting frustrated. It was clear that neither side was listening to each other; he tried to explain what he was thinking. They weren’t listening.
“What we’re telling you dad,” Sandy interrupted. “Is it might be safer if you take everyone else down South as soon as the funeral’s over, and we mean everyone.”
“Stop right there.” He exploded, sheer frustration pouring out. “You’re asking me to pack up and ‘run off’ with one daughter in Hospital, another son-in-law freshly in the ground and all on your say so,” he looked directly at Joey. “Sorry buddy, but that will not happen! Not without at least some form of explanation. And if my suspicions are right about whom it is you actually work for, that’s something else that will not happen,” he looked at the two. “Now I’m not as stupid as you think I am,”
“We never thought you,” Sandy began.
“Shut up, Sandy,” Peter cut her off with a ferocity she’d never heard from him before. It really surprised her. “I’m not stupid, and this is coming because it’s MI5 or ‘6’ that’s pulling the strings. You will not say which, and I will not tell either way, but let’s not kid each other about this, okay? We’re not moving and I’m not asking Kevin’s family to ‘run off’ from the only home they’ve known just on your say so!”
“But dad,” Sandy began. “It’s dangerous staying here. We can’t say what these people will do next when they find out, and they will, in about an hour,”
“Then why not let the thing go off?”
“You’re not seriously thinking that, are you?” Joey asked, “Think of all the innocents that would have been hurt!”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking!” Peter shot back. He was angry, hurt and scared, and he didn’t know which one was coming out. But then again the old police training was kicking in that said “Find the sons of bitches and make ‘em pay.” he finished with.“Then you better make sure they don’t find out where you are then. But I’m not forcing people to move on the say so of people who won’t tell us why and whom they work for. So either you find a way to make sure they don’t find out where you are. Or you find a way to protect us, but we’re not moving and leaving Helen without the support she needs. Have you got that?”
“But Helen can be moved with you,” Joey butted in.
“And that’ll tell whoever you’re afraid of where we are,” Peter replied. “It’s NOT happening!”
The three of them were silent for a full two minutes before Sandy spoke again. “You know,” she said, “there may be a way forward.” She looked at Joey. He realized what she was thinking.
Chapter 8
They’d driven all the way up to Auckland in silence. After the uncomfortable confrontation that took place with Peter, Joey still thought they needed to say something, but he respected both Peter and Sandy’s wishes. It just didn’t sit well with him and he’d been brooding about it.
“Can we talk some” Sandy asked as they pulled into the carpark of the coffee place just before the Bombay hills. They were only half an hour away from the city. They needed to get some things sorted out.
“Yeah,” Joey spoke softly.
They were still in the car park. She turned and looked at him. “I think I’ve worked a way round it, but we’ll need to convince some people about the plan,”
That sounded intriguing. Was Sandy talking about having another go at persuading her dad to take the family back to Christchurch?
“Okay” Joey looked her in the eye. “Fill me in”
“We’ve got to report in at the consulate,” she began. “Sir Michael wants a video conference. Apparently he’s got some things he wants to give us an update on,”
“And we’ve got an update or two for him.” Joey held the cylinders up to emphasize the point. “Should be an interesting briefing, to say the least!”
The British consulate is right in the centre of the city. It took them just over an hour to get there. Finding parking wasn’t a problem as the consulate has its own secure facility. Persuading the parking staff to let these two strangers in was another story. The parking entrance had two booths for entry. One was key card entry, but the other was for visiting embassy staff and controlled by remote. Cameras were watching both entrances.
“Miss Little and Mr Metcalfe here for a conference call.” Sandy spoke through the intercom as soon as they’d pulled up.
“One moment, please,” a disembodied voice came back. “No, there’s no one at the consulate by those names,” the reply came back.
“I should hope not!” Sandy shot back. “That’s because we’re in the bloody car! But we’re expected for a video conference call to London. She paused so they could check any paperwork. “Check your logs!”
“One moment please,” the disembodied voice spoke again. “We have no information on a video call happening today.”
“Please check that with the consul general,” Sandy replied curtly. “She was notified three hours ago. This is urgent!” She added for emphasis.
“Please wait a moment.” This time they were kept waiting.
“What are the odds someone forgot to tell the security staff?” Joey asked, half joking.
“Bloody good,” Sandy replied with a hint of frustration. She was one who liked to be organized and hated it when things weren’t as well run as she liked. Joey’d learned the hard way that sometimes the Army isn’t as well organized as people thought. Especially with some officers that, as Spike Milligan, the comedian once put it, “Shouldn’t even be trusted with a water pistol!”
It took a full ten minutes before the voice came back. “Sorry for the delay, consular staff will be with you presently.” The barrier arm lifted, and they proceeded in.
They parked the car as a sheepish-looking staff member came out of a side door. He went straight to the front of the car. “What’s the odds he’s the one who forgot to pass the message?” Sandy asked Joey just before she opened her door..
“Dead certain,” Joey replied, smiling as the young man approached. He was probably late twenties. Slightly overweight, but not by much. One of those who thought he was fit. He extended his hand to Sandy “Paul Smith,” he greeted them both. But his eyes were fixed on Sandy, clearly thinking he’d make a good impression.
Joey wondered if the guy actually knew what he was doing! ‘This should be good.’ He thought to himself. It took him a moment to remember that while the guy clearly ‘had the hots’ for Sandy, he’d followed protocol as she officially worked for the government where he was a ‘consultant’. He smiled to himself.
Sandy wasn’t so impressed. “Just point us to the secure conference room. Get us coffee and some breakfast,” she didn’t even add a “please.”
Paul Smith’s face was as red as a beetroot. Obviously not expecting to be blown off and put so thoroughly in his place. A part of Joey had really enjoyed seeing the way Sandy had done it.
He led them without another word to the elevators. They went straight to the fourth floor of the building. “The conference room’s in the third.” He explained, “but the elevators only stop at the fourth. Security reasons,” he carried on explaining.
“We get the picture,” Joey cut him off. “Just show us the way, and don’t forget the food.” He sounded just like an NCO barking out an order. It was just the effect he wanted. The elevator doors were fully open now. They stepped out into a light coloured reception area complete with bespectacled receptionist busy typing away at her keyboard, phones going off in the distance, and full-length portrait of the Queen sitting regally on her throne, draped in the full regalia of monarchy. There, just in case you forgot, this was the British Consulate.
“Just at the end of the corridor there’s a door leading to a flight of steps,” Paul spoke up. “the conference room, is at the bottom on the left.” He pointed off to the right, where the corridor was. “I’ll have someone bring breakfast down for you,” he made to leave but was stopped by Joey’s voice.
“You’ll need to bring it.” Joey wasn’t ‘barking’ the order anymore. They’d begun to ‘soften up’ a bit as the staffer had probably had enough punishment for one day, so he spoke a little more softly, “The fewer people who see us here, the better!” He didn’t explain.
“Oh,” that took the consulate staffer back a bit, “Who exactly are you calling?”
“Actually,” Sandy replied. “We’re not doing the calling, he’s calling us, and you better not ask. Then we won’t have to lie!”
Strange people turning up at the consulate. Wanting as few people as possible to know about it and then admitting they’d lie about who they were. Now he really was curious, but something about them made him decide not to push it. It was a wise choice.
They found the room. It was pretty plain. No windows and only the bare minimum of functional furniture. Only the absolute minimum for its function as a secure conference facility. Which amounted to a table, a computer, a couple of large screens and a few leather chairs. There was another table against the wall. Clearly a sign that a coffee pot visited that spot from time to time.
Every Embassy, and some consulates, have these rooms. Usually not on any of the ‘official’ plans for the building. But hidden as an extra large ‘broom closet’ of something like that. Some strange soundproofing and interesting electronic devices built in. This room had all that, along with plain carpet and a huge hardwood (Sandy thought it looked like Rimu) table with two large leather office chairs. There was a laptop on the conference table connected to the large screens. Sandy booted the laptop up and opened Skype. Then, taking a flash drive out of her bag. She installed a few things they were going to need.
“Feels more like an episode of ‘Star Trek’ than a bloody room in an embassy,” Joey commented as they ‘booted the system up.’ “Just waiting for Captain Kirk to show up!”
“That’s not an acceptable way to talk about our new friend,” Sandy was laughing a little as she replied.
“What, him?” Joey shot back, “He’s a green-blooded Alien, and I don’t mean Mr Spock! Spock’s too intelligent!”
As soon as the system was ‘up and running’ Sandy typed in a series of commands. Then they waited. A few moments later, the screen came alive with a picture of a conference room with two men sat at the conference table. Just as the picture came on, there was a tap on their door. Joey got up and went to it. A few seconds later he was back with a big pot of coffee, a plate of Croissants, butter and Jam.
“I can see you’ve got your priorities right then!” one of the men on the screen spoke. It was Sir Michael.
“Sorry,” Sandy spoke up. “We’ve been on the go since four am this morning. This is the first chance for a ‘refuel’ we’ve had” she took a croissant, cut it in half. She would not tell him about the brief stop at the Bombays. That had been more of a ‘get things straight’ type of stop, anyway. They could see the heat rising off the pastry. The aroma was wonderful. She spread a ‘noggin’ of butter on one half, then taking the Jam (it was Strawberry, her favourite). She put a big dollop onto the other half, then put the two together. Coffee and croissants. It was heaven. But they were here for a reason. “We were kind of expecting them to bring this after the conference call sir.” She lied.
“You called for a conference Sir Michael; we’ve got quite a bit to report,” Joey jumped in to carry on. “Here we are,” he was pouring the coffee.
Sir Michael smiled a little, “So have we, I’ve called on Steve for some forensic accounting help to look into the car driver’s accounts.”
“Good to see you two again” the ‘Steve’ was Steve Chamber. The guy they’d gone into Iran to rescue on the first mission. “Though you ARE supposed to be on holiday, you know!” he wisecracked a little. He knew them both pretty well and knew they had the sense of humour that would appreciate it. “I guess someone forgot to tell you!”
“Well, it was great, while it lasted.” Joey replied. “That is until the accident!” he carried on, “anyway, we’ve got a few things that might throw some light on things.”
“First of all.” Sandy interrupted, “The car is going through its serious crash inspection as we speak,” she saw Sir Michael interrupted. She cut him off with a holding up of the hand. “They will find nothing, other than a few smudges in the brake pipes. We got there first, then it’s on its way back to England. It should leave the country within a few days. All the paperwork has been filed.”
“What did you find then?” Sir Michael wasn’t known for ‘beating about the bush.’
“Take a look for yourself,” Joey replied as he lifted the device onto the table. He plonked it right in front of the camera. “Can you see it clearly?”
“Looks like a bomb of some sort?” it was more a question than anything, and it was Chambers who asked the question.
“Yes, and no,” Joey replied. “The first part wasn’t, that was this cylinder,” he pointed to the one on the left. “Filled with acid of some kind, probably sulphuric, activated by a timer like so,” He gave a demonstration. “This bit here,” Joey pointed to a small valve on the end of the first cylinder, “is the control mechanism. Open it and the acid pours out.”
“How long would it take to work?” Chambers asked the question.
“It was right above the brake master cylinder,” Joey carried on. “Probably only a couple of minutes before the first holes, about ten minutes and you’ve got catastrophic failure!”
That explains the brakes." Sir Michael spoke up, but wasn’t the car speeding up?"
“Yep, she was,” Joey replied. He reached down and pulled what looked like a rectangular rubber tile out of the bag. “Hope the McLaren boys and girls don’t mind we kept this back” he placed it on the table. “It’s the accelerator pedal, SUPERGLUED TO THE CARPET!!” She waited a moment for the statement to sink in. “Crude but works every time!”
“I don’t want to know how you know that!” Sir Michael shot back, “Back to the original question, “How did you get your hands on this, if it was supposed to be in the police compound?”
“Oh, it is in the compound, boss,” Joey replied. “ And the cops still have one, that wasn’t part of the killer’s plan, take a look here,” he pointed to the second cylinder, “Filled with white phosphorus, that was timed to rupture a couple of hours ago, while the car was in the compound.”
“And don’t tell me,” Sir Michael cut in, “above the brake cylinder, brake fluid is chiefly alcohol based which ignites, that starts to burn, which in turn reaches the fuel tank right?”
“And you have a very crude, but effective bomb levelling most of the station,” Joey finished. “Not to mention how many cops hurt in the blast. The last thing they’ll be thinking about is what caused it! Least not for weeks.”
“The killer knew Cavell wouldn’t be able to floor it until he got to Thames, then he wouldn’t be able to resist,” Sandy broke in. “Thus he knew roughly where it was going to happen.” She took another croissant, cut the pastry and spread a thin layer of butter, then Jam on it and took another bite. She went on. “It was planned down to the last detail.”
“So,’ Chambers spoke again, “We’re all pretty convinced you weren’t the target? That sort of fits with what we’ve found out at this end.” He brought the meeting ‘back to the point’
“Hold on,” Sandy spoke up. She tapped a few keys on the laptop. “I’ve just sent you an enlarged picture of what he’s talking about.” She nodded slightly in Joey’s direction.
