The Becket Approval Falconer Duncan (ebook reader .txt) 📖

of vodka.

Be patient, Saleem told himself. It would all come together.

 

 

Chapter 17

Gunnymede stepped into Legoland’s underground car park where dozens of private and fleet vehicles were parked. Two black 4x4s were waiting to depart. Aristotle, dressed as if he was going to a funeral, stood beside one of them. He nodded on seeing Gunnymede and climbed into the back seat of the lead vehicle. Gunnymede got in beside him.

‘You’ve gone through the equipment?’ Aristotle asked.

‘Yes.’

‘The maps?’

‘Yep.’

‘You are happy with everything?’

‘No.’

Aristotle ignored the answer, as if Gunnymede was a child.

The vehicles made their way through the garage, up a steep ramp and into an alleyway that led onto the main road where they accelerated away.

They passed a flashy black Range Rover parked across from the MI6 headquarters. Inside were the blingy thugs who’d taken Gunnymede’s phone.

The thug leader looked up at the towering MI6 building. ‘This is the address your bloke gave you for that car.’

‘Yes, boss,’ his underling said.

‘This is MI6 headquarters.’

‘Yeh, I know.’

‘You fuckin’ idiot.’

Aristotle unzipped a large holdall on the floor between their feet. Inside was a collection of transparent plastic bags containing various pieces of material and technology. He opened another to reveal a parachute.

‘Did they show you footage?’ Aristotle asked as he pulled out a pair of ski gloves and goggles.

‘Of what?’

‘The test runs.’

‘Someone bailing out of the wheel housing?’

‘There’s footage of the drop and landings.’

‘It wasn’t mentioned.’

‘It shows one of the early jumpers leaving the wheel housing and bouncing along the bottom of the fuselage. He hit it several times and was knocked unconscious.’

Gunnymede looked at him. ‘Are you trying to wind me up?’

‘He was fine. The automatic chute opening worked perfectly.’

‘Otherwise he would’ve creamed in.’

‘What?’

‘Hit the ground at terminal velocity.’

‘Yes. Let’s go through your equipment.’ Aristotle pulled out items from the holdalls. ‘Weapons. Suppressed assault rifle, pistol, ammunition for both. Altitude meter. Oxygen and mask. Helmet. Solar phone charger. Goggles. Earplugs. Water bladder. Snacks. Med-pack. Emergency map and compass. Passport. Travel docs and money. For tracking, we’ll use your phone. And of course the Raptos which you will need to acquire the phone MINs.’ He checked his watch. ‘You should put on the stealth suit now.’

Gunnymede removed it from the bag and unfolded it. It was big. After a struggle to figure out which end was which he managed to manoeuvre himself into it. When he was finished he looked like a giant caterpillar.

‘Where we flying out of?’ Gunnymede asked.

‘Gatwick.’

Gunnymede sighed and dropped his head back.

‘Are you nervous?’

‘Of course I’m nervous.’

‘It will pass when you are in free-fall.’

‘Why, because I’ll be knocked unconscious after bouncing off the fuselage?’

‘I have done worse than this.’

‘Oh, yeah? Like what?’

‘I had to jump from a plane into a snow drift without a parachute.’

‘Deliberately?’

‘Yes.’

‘I mean, it was a planned drop?’

‘Yes.’

‘You weren’t pushed?’

‘Of course not.’

‘You volunteered?’

‘Yes. It was an operational requirement.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Exactly.’

‘What I mean is, that was more stupid than this jump.’

‘And I survived.’

‘Are you sure?’

Aristotle gave him a cold look.

The vehicles entered the airport perimeter at a private checkpoint and headed along an interior road. Aristotle’s phone buzzed and he checked the message. ‘Taz is at the border.’

‘Already? Isn’t that tight?’

‘You’ll have plenty of time. He usually spends several hours there getting drunk.’

Bethan sat at her kitchen table working on her laptop by the light of a lamp, sipping a cup of tea and eating a sandwich.

Her mobile chirped and she picked it up. ‘Hello, boss.’

‘S C & O 19 won’t give you access,’ Dillon said.

She slumped with disappointment.

‘They expect to be able to release information on the case in the next week or so.’

‘That’s it?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Did you find out if there is a suspect at least?’

Dillon went silent.

Bethan grew hopeful. ‘There is, isn’t there?’

‘Yes.’

‘A week could be too late.’

‘That’s irrelevant.’

‘His life is irrelevant?’

‘S C & O 19 is mounting an important operation based on elements of the case. That operation takes priority.’

‘To a human life? Did you tell them he was in danger?’

‘It’s only a theory and not a very tight one either.’

‘This is a Catch 22. You realise that, don’t you?’

‘It’s a significant operation as I understand it.’

‘We’re missing an opportunity to solve several murders and by doing so prevent others. We’re talking about organised serial killings.’

‘I was going to trust you with a name but I’m not sure I will now.’

‘You have the rapist’s name?’

Dillon goes silent again.

‘I promise you I can be trusted with it.’

‘If I give it to you it has to be for research only. They’ll release the name in a week but you’ll have the jump.’

She perked up. ‘Absolutely. Of course. I understand completely.’

‘I want your word,’ Dillon insisted. ‘Your solemn promise not to share it with anyone or act on anything you find without consulting me.’

‘I promise. I won’t do anything with it other than background research.’

He hesitated.

‘I won’t do anything that will raise a flag,’ she insisted. ‘I promise.’

‘Your friend Jedson is the field manager on this.’

‘Jedson? He’s an imbecile.’

‘Apparently not as stupid as he appears. His undercover work has provided a lot of significant operational data. They’re actually talking about a promotion if he pulls this one off.’

‘Oh dear. He’ll be more insufferable than he is already, if that’s possible.’

‘You ready for the name?’

‘Yes.’

‘Milo Krilov.’

Bethan tapped the name onto her computer screen. ‘Krilov with a K?

‘Kilo, Romeo, India, Lima, Oscar, Victor. Russian. Former Russian Special Forces.’

‘Special Forces?’

‘Extremely dangerous.’

‘Any idea why he wasn’t charged?’

‘He’s