Chapter 11 as it appeared
Part 2: In the Dark of the Night
Authors: Gabby, PCat
Acknowledgment: Based on an idea by Ian, Extra input from BD, Kulko and Tarrok
Malton +55
"We need to hold the stairs until the prince is clear."
"With all due respect, sir, you are more important than Faisal and we're in fucking Riyadh. It's not like he's got a lot to worry about if they don't actually catch the two of you shaking hands."
"If I can't be seen to keep my allies safe, Kulko, we might as well give up now."
The two men slipped out of the room and surveyed the corridor that led past the lifts. There was a neglected doorway to the emergency stair case at the end.
"You should have let me bring more people," grumbled Kulko.
"If you had your way Kulko, no one would ever see me. Just a wall of thugs with more hair than sense. This way we know the leak is in his entourage."
Ian and Kulko pushed through the doorway. Kulko could hear footsteps below them. He pulled a compact automatic from under his jacket and let off a short burst. The footsteps stopped. Ian pinched the bridge of his nose in an exaggerated fashion and closed his eyes. Kulko was getting used to this gesture. He had also learned to ignore it. Ian began piecing together a rifle.
"They're out," whispered Kulko, relaying information from Hali. "A second chopper is going to do a fly-past." He flashed up two fingers silently to indicate how much time they had.
Ian glanced up the stairs and then gestured Kulko to go ahead. Kulko sighed inwardly. He would have preferred it if Ian had gone first, but now was not the time to argue.
As he pounded upwards he heard two shots behind him and the sound of a man screaming.
"Ian's shooting to injure again, isn't he?" commented Hali in his ear. "They've summoned the paramedics."
Kulko burst out onto the roof with 40 seconds to spare. He could see the chopper approaching in the distance. 30 seconds later Ian followed him. Kulko emptied a clip through the roof hatchway, just to keep the pursuers wary and then slammed it shut. Ian was already in the helicopter. Kulko grabbed hold of the ladder as they lifted off.
Malton +56
"Tim."
"Fucking hell, who are you?" Tim Brankin exclaimed, suspiciously eying the punk-rocker who had appeared in his living room. "And how the hell did you get into my flat?"
"You learn shit like that over the years. Get better locks, Tim. Listen up. About your sister's funeral?"
"Half-sister."
"Fuck off. Funeral's soon, yeah? You invited?"
"Possibly. Not going - Mum isn't, and Dad'll be there, not sure I want to run into him any time soon."
"Oh yeah, you got that dissident freed, didn't you? Nice job, mate. Anyway. "Mum" is going. She's bound to, you kids are like the most important thing she's got."
"I know who you are - Mallows! Jesus, I thought you were dead! And we're not the most important things in her life. You know that. She chose you over us."
Tim watched as Gabriel Mallows' mouth opened and shut soundlessly a couple of times. "It wasn't like that..." he said after a moment. "We didn't..." and then he flushed red. "Well, we weren't... I mean to say... Look, Tim, if you think your Mum and I spent the last ten years going at it like rabbits then nothing could be further from the truth. To be honest I'm not sure we're even on speaking terms at the moment. You told her to stay away. You know you did. You wrote all those letters trying to persuade her that you were all fine and she lugged them around with her like they were gold dust. Shit! If you had ever broken and begged her to come back I don't like to think what would have happened. She's bound to be going to the funeral, how could she not? I expect she'll be disguised and shit, but she won't be safe. If I can work out she'll go, so will your Dad, and he'll grab her, for sure. All the publicity about it, all the shit about how I'm keeping her from her family, how Claire died without seeing her, about the grandchildren and great-grandchildren she's never met. It's designed to make her feel bad. It smells like the biggest trap since..." Gabby trailed off, searching for the end to his phrase.
Tim exploited this lull in the rapid London-accented speech to growl, "Why are following her? Haven't you fucked her up enough, Mallows? What are you plotting? Another kidnap?"
Gabby was silent for a moment, simply staring at Tim with an unreadable look. "Tim, I can see you haven't really gotten over the whole kidnap thing. You know why I did it. You know it was worth it. I'm sorry I didn't consult you first - you were a teenager back then."
"You still are a teenager."
"Burn," Gabby said dryly. "Look, this is irrelevant - do you want your Mum to get back into your Dad's clutches or not?"
"Of course bloody not. I just don't much want her back in yours either."
"Well you can come along and play chaperone, if you're worried about my intentions. I need you to be there anyway."
Tim scowled. "Very well. What's the plan?"
"You're gonna love it."
"Thanks Mum!" muttered Tim, strapping himself into a seat.
"I don't know how you're going to get this one past your father," returned Cat, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "As for you!" she glared at Gabby, who was just scrambling into the chopper. Wind whipped around him as the vehicle rose higher in the sky.
"What?" Gabby said tersely. He hadn't planned this. In his mind, he would come back into Cat's life as a conquering hero, all their troubles forgotten. Instead, he had made things worse.
"What were you doing at the funeral?"
Gabby shrugged helplessly. "Rescuing you!"
"That went well," she said acerbicly.
"How was I supposed to know you already had it covered! You were supposed to be all wimmenzy and distracted."
Cat rolled her eyes. "Well I guess you and Tim did provide some additional distraction. It made our lives easier."
"See? It was all part of the plan," Gabby said with a false air of confidence, watching Cat nervously to gauge her reaction. She smiled faintly.
"So, Cat, where to now? Your place?" he asked innocently.
"No. The pilot can drop you off in London, then Tim and I will go somewhere for a chat. It's so long since I've seen you." She turned back to Tim and smiled with real pleasure.
"Where's that then? Only a helicopter ride away from London, eh?"
"Leave it, Gabby."
Gabby stared glumly at the retreating helicopter as it vanished into the light drizzle. They'd left him at an abandoned airport on the outskirts of London, one of the small airports that had fallen into disuse as fuel prices and green taxes drove air travel beyond the means of ordinary people. Cat hadn't even shaken his hand. Her obvious happiness at seeing Tim, contrasted to her abrasive attitude when faced with him, just meant he felt jealous and depressed.
"Fucked up a-fucking-gain," he muttered, kicking angrily at a broken piece of tarmac.
Malton +57
BD had been living in the container for three days as the cargo ship did the haul from Port-aux-Basques to Nuuk. He was fed up with the confined space and with the low level concern that the Inuit who were supposed to meet it, were not necessarily all that friendly.
He was off the sea now and, he judged, had been on the road for an hour or more. Fuck knew where he was. The movement had stopped though and he'd taken up a defensive position with Black Betty aimed at the entrance. The doors swung open, but there didn't seem to be anything except darkness outside.
"Come out with your hands up!" called a voice.
"Who is this?" he called back. The Inuit had made it abundantly clear they didn't trust Ian. BD wasn't at all sure he trusted them.
"We're the ones giving the orders."
"Fuck you, I'm not coming out until you identify yourselves."
There was a short burst of automatic weapons fire. BD was thankful for the heavy crates he had sheltered behind. He waited quietly. He didn't think there was much chance of getting out alive, but he had more chance than many, and he was fucked if he was walking out into the unknown, unarmed like some kind of patsy.
There was a low murmur of voices. BD slipped the safety off Black Betty and sighted over the crates at the open door. A bright light suddenly switched on. BD blinked in the glare, ducking down behind the crate. He was just in time as a second burst of bullets followed the first. He listened carefully, as soon as he heard footsteps approaching he was going to pop up and shoot.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a vehicle, running feet and a lot of raised voices in a language he didn't understand. Suddenly a new voice, in a familiar accent called out.
"BD, is that you in there?"
"Who is this?" he called.
"Fucking hell, BD. Give me a break. It's Arthur. Is that you?"
"Arthur? What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Saving you from your own stubbornness, as far as I can tell."
"You fucking know where she is, don't you?" Gabe growled, prodding Sam in the chest.
"No," Sam said firmly. He had always been a good liar and Gabe couldn't read him. He turned to Vicky, who was leaning her head on Sam's shoulder.
"Vick. Tell me where Cat's living!" Gabby pleaded. Vicky's head shot up off her husband's shoulder, and she blushed. Gabby smiled broadly and slipped off his chair and onto the floor in front of her. He laid his chin on her knee and stared up at her. This was a trick he had perfected during their fling - of course, he had generally used it to get sex out of her. Now, he was out for information.
"Wait, Gabby. You know this world tour of yours?" Danny asked, intervening before Vicky's will broke under Gabby's gaze.
"Wasn't a world tour - I didn't even have a guitar for most of it. I just wanted to travel the world without having a bunch of screaming girls following me about. Although I must say - I did find a couple of screamers," Gabby bragged, looking at the others with pride. Sam almost smiled, but then he caught Vicky's eye. Danny just frowned disapprovingly. Gabby sighed.
"So, this travelling, were you expecting to find Kate?" Danny continued.
"No... well... would have been great to have found her, I suppose, but even I'm not that naive. But you three know, don't you - why aren't you telling me?"
"Gabby, you know she's avoiding you. That old crap about you being too `wild' or whatever. She made us promise to keep it secret last time we visited. To be honest, I don't want you going to fuck everything up for her either, mate. Leave it alone, it's over," Danny said, a hint of pleading in his voice.
"You've never approved of us, have you, Danny? Why?"
"There is no `you', mate. You kissed her when she wasn't expecting it, you fucked her when she was vulnerable, and you haven't spoken since Beijing. What does that add up to in your head? Love? Passion?"
"Danny... I think I've loved her since.... Jesus, I dunno. I was already falling for her when I kissed her. But back then, it was still a bit more `Fuck you, Simon' than `Fuck me, Cat', you know? Then it became all `Fuck me, Cat' for a while. Then... we happened," Gabe glanced nervously at Vicky, "Then I realised that I couldn't even put a `fuck' in the name - I have no idea what this is, but... I love the `fuck' out of her - there you go," Gabby said proudly.
Sam took a deep breath. "You know, Codfish, I believe him, kinda. He's been lusting after the poor woman for years. Even when he was with Vicky, he wanted her. Gabby, listen, if we tell you where she is, what is your plan of action?" he said seriously.
"Why don't any of these little groups talk to each other?" grumbled BD, as Arthur finally emerged from yet another lengthy negotiation.
"They do, sort of. But there's a long history and a lot of mistrust. As far as they're concerned Simon's just a footnote. Your crusade is small beer and they don't trust Ian at all."
"But they trust you?"
Arthur shrugged. "Not really, but they're used to me."
"How come? You've not really explained why you're here."
"Not much to tell. I was in Iceland, writing a story on the insurgency when Simon declared emergency powers." Arthur shrugged. "They agreed to shelter me while they worked out what impact Simon would have on their struggle and after a bit, they just got used to having me around."
"Why don't you leave? It's not like we couldn't use you."
"There are entanglements."
"What sort of entanglements?"
"Ones which are none of your business."
BD eyed Arthur thoughtfully, but the man's face was carefully blank. "Fair enough. As long as we get the truck, I'm happy."
Arthur nodded. "I might come with you. Like I said, your crusade isn't of much interest to them. If you do manage to hijack the truck I wouldn't put it past them to put a suicide volunteer in with you with a homing beacon. He'll wait until you get somewhere important and then boom! targetted missile attack."
BD groaned. "Well you know them. I guess I'm trusting you not to let them kill me."
"Gabby? Is that you? How the hell... who told you where I live?" Cat spluttered. She recognised him, but it was hard - his hair was bleached and more obviously styled than Gabby's had ever been, and he was wearing sunglasses that covered half of his face.
"I'm fine, thanks," Gabby said, putting on one of his charming smiles.
Cat had told herself she was over Gabby. But here he was and already her pulse was racing and she had a sense that events were running out of control. Cat slammed the door in his face. "Ouch!" came a voice.
He rang the doorbell again.
Cat leaned back against the door. She could do this. Just because it was Gabby outside didn't mean anything had to change or she had to give anything up. All she had to do was tell him to get lost.
"Cat... I'm sorry we argued... I don't really think you're a stupid fucking bitch," Gabby said quietly. She could just hear him, through the wood.
Cat closed her eyes. There were a lot of memories. Most of them were even good ones. She opened the door again. "I'll meet you in the cafe over the street."
No matter how much he had prepared his apology, it hadn't been easy and it hadn't really come out like he'd planned. He'd not really expected to have to make it to a door for a start. Gabby hoped it showed and Cat didn't think he was being glib.
He watched as Cat crossed the road. She had cut her hair into a business-like bob and dyed it black. She was wearing a sharply tailored black trouser-suit. In the past she had always favoured pastels. She was wearing mirrored sunglasses that hid her eyes. He considered giving her a hug. It was how he usually greeted her and gave him an opportunity to fondle things. For years she had slapped his hands away and snapped at him. Then, for a few brief years, she had just sighed and leant in towards him. He had a feeling she might slap his hands away now, and possibly refuse to meet him again. He stayed sitting.
"Couldn't we do this in your apartment?" he whined.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's my place, OK. It's where I stay safe and people don't get in to mess things up."
"Good to see you too Cat."
She smiled at that. "It's good to see you as well Gabby. But give me a call next time, OK? You'll find I'm friendlier if I'm prepared. How've you been?"
Gabby shrugged. "Did some backpacking, saw the world. You?"
"Had some counselling. Got some qualifications. Work in a Media Cafe now, doing the accounts."
"The accounts?"
"Those are the qualifications I got. I was always good with figures. I reasoned it was something useful I could do."
"You're an accountant?"
"Yes, Gabby, I'm an accountant. You look more shocked than you did when Simon and I announced we were having kids."
General Tarrok watched as the large reinforced gates of the Sisimiut garrison swung shut behind the supply truck. "No one try to get in this time?" he asked the duty Sergeant.
The man shook his head. "No, all quiet."
"Too quiet." Tarrok sighed. "We've not had an attack in three weeks. They're working up to something."
Two men had got down from the truck, swathed in large parkas. "Get them under cover," muttered Tarrok.
The Sergeant looked over. "Oi!" he shouted at them. "Don't stand around in the open. Get that truck inside."
They started to climb up again, just as the air raid sirens went off.
"Fuck!" muttered Tarrok. "No! Don't get down again! Drive it under cover. You're safer in the cab."
He didn't bother with the comms. If they weren't jammed they would have been hacked. But he looked up at the watch tower and signed the orders to keep everyone under cover but prepared to repel attack. Then he legged it for the nearest bunker.
He heard the truck's engine cut out and then shouting but couldn't make out the words. Hopefully the quartermaster would control them.
He made the bunker just as the first missile struck the centre of the parade ground. There were five other soldiers inside, all trapped in the open when the sirens had gone off. He nodded in approval to see them armed and ready.
He glanced out. One of the men from the truck, his distinctive red parka instantly recognisable, was staggering across the parade ground in the snow as the shells fell around him.
"Fucking mad man!" muttered Tarrok.
The man continued to move and Tarrok shook his head, amazed he was still alive. Eventually he stumbled down the steps of the bunker.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" demanded Tarrok.
"You've got a tracer incoming. We just picked up the signal." The man thrust a small portable radar at him. A pulsing signal from their location was clear on the map.
Tarrok stared at him a moment in horror and surprised recognition. "Get out of here now!" He ordered the men behind him. "Fall back to the main building."
"They'll have planted it on me," he murmured to the other man. "You'd better go too. Fucking Inuit insurgents."
"I'm not leaving you," the man commented as the soldiers dashed past him.
"You're a fucking maniac, BD. Always were."
BD fished a second device from his pocket. "Hand held bug sweeper. The homing signal must be active. All we have to do is check the same frequency."
Tarrok spread his arms and let BD sweep him. BD grunted in satisfaction and felt at the collar of his jacket removing the small insignia pin. Glancing at the readouts on the bug sweeper, Tarrok saw they matched the radar signal. He nodded as BD tossed the insignia out into the centre of the parade ground. Minutes later a missile impacted the same place.
Tarrok shook his head. "If this was a plan to get me alone for a chat then it looks like you've succeeded. We'll be pinned down here for a while yet."
BD shook his head. "I was planning a chat, but not quite like this."
"I want you out of here soon as that truck leaves. I can't afford to be seen talking to you. Have you any idea how hard it's been making my way in the military as ex-DHPD."
"You've had their semi-autonomy to help you."
"Didn't do Codeist much good."
"Well he kidnapped Kate. That was never going to play well. Besides, Cat told me about the Black Ops, you've not been keeping yourself that squeaky clean. It's about the election once General Chan steps down."
"I'm not standing. I'll never get the votes against Simon's yes-men."
"General Sheva Utumbe might though."
"She's hardly going to take Ian's side. Her record is as one of Simon's lackeys, albeit a moderate."
"You might be surprised."
"I'll think about it. Is Ian asking this?"
"Might be."
"Fine. Can he do something about this insurgency though? We're fighting a war of attrition here and I'm losing good men."
BD shook his head. "Turns out Ian's great-grandmother was Danish. They won't even talk about talks. I only got here because Arthur's mixed up with them somehow and I'm not convinced this little attack wasn't supposed to take me out as well. Good job Arthur was checking their frequencies."
"They're fucking nutters. Most of them are convinced Simon is a pawn of the Danish monarchy. Some days I feel I'm working in some bizarre never never land here."
"You're renting a flat? Across town? Bloody hell, Gabby, I left the resistance for a reason, you know? I need my space!"
"You've got it here, haven't you? You don't own the town, your Royal Empressness - if I want to live in... this place, I'm allowed, no?" Gabby said defensively. They had met in a bar this time. He knocked back the gin and tonic Cat had bought him.
"Why? Why do you want to live here, eh? I only moved here cos it was quiet - I know you! You abhor silence! This is practically a retirement village, Gabby!"
"Well... my estate agents lied to me... bastards. Look, Cat. Danny is a miserable old git. Sam and Vicky are back to being newlyweds, Andy and Ant are off doing secret stuff for the resistance, Ian's fucking avoiding me - you're all I've got left!"
"Gabby, you have a strange talent for making me feel like I'm always your last option."
"You keep coming back, though, don't you?"
"I keep coming back?"
"Please Cat? I know you want space but no one else will talk to me at all!"
"Fine - you can stay. But don't expect to be hanging out with me regularly - maybe once a week, if you're lucky. And don't you dare fuck up my cover, understood?"
"I guess busking is out of the question then?"
"Yes, why would you busk anyway?"
"I need money to pay the rent. I ran out of funds a couple of years back."
Cat closed her eyes and sighed. "The Media cafe where I work needs a waiter and it needs to be someone we can trust. I guess you sort of fit the bill."
"Why do you need to trust them?"
Cat gave him a hard stare. "It isn't quite true I've left the resistance. The cafe functions as a message drop point and we pass stuff further up the chain which is why it's really important you don't draw attention to yourself if I get you a job there."
"Shit! Danny! Get out of there!" Sam was shouting in his earpiece.
"Five more minutes Sammy. That's all I need."
Danny stared at the lines of shelves and glanced at the reference number in the corner of his data glasses; Aisle 38, Row B.
"You don't fucking have five more fucking minutes!" shouted Sam. "I'm going to have to fall back! Get your arse out of there now."
Danny hurried down the aisles counting off the numbers. "I'm in the storage locker now. Soon as I get the prototype I'm out of here."
He could hear gunfire over the comms.
"I've had to bail!" said Sam. "We'll try to swing past in the van in 5 minutes and pick you up."
"No wait! I've got it." Danny grabbed the prototype and started to run for the exit.
"We're heading West on Broad Street! Vicky says there's a back route along something called New College Lane"
Danny pulled up a map on his glasses. "I see it!"
There were multiple footsteps in the corridor ahead of him. He hefted his automatic and swung round the corner firing. He felt bullets ripping into him.
"Shit!" he mumbled as he fell to the floor. Feet moved into his vision and he felt the gun kicked from his hands.
"Looks like that tip off that was accurate," said a female voice. "Take him away boys. He's still breathing so I'm guessing he's one of the immortals. Mr. Brankin will no doubt want to talk to him."
Danny strained to see the woman but he was already slipping into unconsciousness.
"Danny! Danny! Are you there?" Sam continued shouting for a bit and then the comms went silent.
"Cat! Thank God! I don't know exactly where you are but I want to you catch the next bus or train out of town."
"Wait! What?" Cat was standing in the middle of the street. She had a bag of groceries in one hand and a box containing a new pair of shoes under one arm. She struggled to hold the phone as Hali's voice came out of the speaker.
"Danny got captured. I just got the news from Sam and Vicky, but they took an age getting to me. I reckon you're out of any window when you can assume he won't reveal your address. Get on a bus. Get out of town. Don't tell me where you're going. This is an open line and I'm not sure if the new filters are on this network yet or not. Just go. Send me an email when you're somewhere and I'll fix you up."