Stephen Leather - The Double Tap

‘Absolutely not,’ said the Colonel tersely. ‘Phones just aren’t secure, cellular or otherwise. Under no circumstances are you to attempt to get in touch with me.’ He nodded at Allan. ‘That goes for you and Martin.’ The Colonel leaned back against the windowsill. ‘Don’t forget that we will be following you every step of the way. Even if you don’t see us, we’ll still be there.’

Cramer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I’d be happier if there was some way we could reach you.’

‘You don’t need me to hold your hand,’ said the Colonel. ‘Any other questions?’

The three men shook their heads. ‘I have a question,’ said Su-ming from behind them.

The Colonel raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, Su-ming?’

‘How long do we wait?’

‘As long as it takes.’

‘But the itinerary only runs for two weeks.’

‘That was all that was asked for, which leads us to believe that the attempt will be made within the next fourteen days.’

Cramer twisted around in his seat to look at Su-ming. She looked worried but there was no trace of nervousness in her voice. ‘What about Mr Vander Mayer?’ she said. ‘I have to be in regular contact with him.’

The Colonel shook his head. ‘Impossible. What would happen if the killer were to hear you talking to him?’

‘So I am not to call him?’

‘Not until it’s over.’

‘What if he tries to contact me?’

‘He won’t. He understands the position. Mr Vander Mayer does have a number where he can reach me. In the event that he has to get hold of you, I will get a message to you.’

Su-ming shrugged. Cramer wondered why she was so worried about not being in contact with her boss. He turned back to face the Colonel. ‘About Vander Mayer,’ he said. ‘What’s he doing?’

‘He’s on his yacht,’ the Colonel answered. ‘It’s equipped with state of the art communications equipment so he’s able to carry on business as usual. He has a copy of your itinerary and will simply tell anyone he speaks to that he is at your location. Any faxes, telexes or computer transmissions he sends will also appear to be sent from your location. But he’s agreed to keep his activities to the absolute minimum until we have our man.’ When the Colonel saw that there were no further questions, he pointed at the door with his walking stick. ‘All that remains is for me to wish you luck,’ he said. ‘As of now we go our separate ways.’

‘How are you getting to London?’ Cramer asked as he stood up.

‘We’ll be using the helicopter. We’ll get to Heathrow after you but there are already men there waiting for you. You won’t see them, not if they’re doing their job right.’

Su-ming opened the door and went out into the corridor. The Colonel shook the three men by the hand as they left the room. Cramer was the last to leave. After they’d shaken, the Colonel held onto Cramer’s hand. ‘Good luck,’ he said.

‘Luck doesn’t come into it, Colonel. Besides, we both know what the end result of this is going to be, don’t we?’

The Colonel didn’t reply. He let Cramer’s hand slip from his own and then patted him on the shoulder, like a priest comforting the recently bereaved. ‘I wish there was. .’ he began.

‘Hey, don’t worry,’ interrupted Cramer. ‘I’m a big boy, I know exactly what I’m getting into and it’s my choice.’ He held the Colonel’s look for several seconds, then turned and left the room.

‘Your stuff’s in the car,’ said Allan, handing Cramer his overcoat. ‘You’re carrying?’

Cramer patted the gun in his underarm holster. ‘I wouldn’t leave home without it.’

Mrs Elliott came out of the kitchen and handed Cramer a Tupperware box and a stainless steel Thermos flask. ‘For the journey,’ she said. ‘And mind you look after yourself.’ She hugged him and then rushed back into the kitchen.

Cramer followed Allan and Martin to the Mercedes and climbed into the back seat. Su-ming was already there.

‘All set?’ asked Martin.

‘Let’s do it,’ said Cramer.

Martin looked over his shoulder at the flask and sandwiches which Cramer had in his lap. ‘Mike. .’ he began.

‘Sure,’ said Cramer before Martin could finish. He passed over the sandwiches and Martin practically snatched them from his hand.

Dermott Lynch watched the Mercedes nose slowly out of the school entrance and on to the road. He took his binoculars away from his eyes. ‘It’s him,’ he said. ‘He’s in the back with a girl.’

‘What do we do?’ asked Marie.

Lynch scratched his chin and frowned. They were parked at the side of the road almost a quarter of a mile away from the entrance, the opposite direction to that in which the Mercedes was heading. He had only two choices: follow Cramer or try to find out what was going on inside the school. Marie sat watching him. She knew that it was his decision. Lynch stared after the Mercedes. It was Cramer he was after. He reached forward and started the engine. ‘Get the map out,’ he said as he eased the car into gear.

Marie opened the glove compartment and unfolded the map as Lynch drove past the entrance to the school. The guards had gone as if the fact that Cramer had left meant that there was no further need for security. Lynch had a feeling that Cramer wouldn’t be coming back, that whatever the Sass-man was up to was now moving into its next phase.

‘What are their options?’ Lynch asked, fixing his eyes on the Mercedes. He tried to keep as far away from it as possible, but the road twisted and turned and he didn’t want to risk losing it. He found he was accelerating and braking constantly, racing towards each bend and then braking hard once he had the Mercedes in sight. He couldn’t afford to be too far away when they reached the intersection with the B4295 or else he wouldn’t know whether the Mercedes had gone north or south.

‘Assuming they’re not just heading for a day at the beach, I’d say the airport, or Swansea and then maybe on to London. Unless they’re heading for a boat, the peninsula is dotted with small ports.’

Lynch ducked involuntarily as something roared overhead. It was a huge helicopter, the red, white and blue Sea King that he’d last seen picking up Cramer from the sea wall at Howth. The Sea King was flying low towards the school. ‘They’re pulling out,’ he said to Marie. He braked sharply as a tractor pulled out of a field ahead of the Golf. ‘Jesus Christ!’ he hissed as the wheels skidded on mud that was being thrown up by the tractor’s massive tyres. He managed to get the car under control, then followed the tractor impatiently, trying to see if the road was clear.

‘I think you’re okay,’ said Marie uncertainly as she peered out of the passenger window.

Lynch craned his neck to the side but all he could see were hedgerows. He stamped on the accelerator and overtook the tractor. It was only when he drew level with it and saw that the road ahead was empty that he realised he’d been holding his breath. He let it out in a mournful sigh and accelerated. When he reached the B4295, the Mercedes was nowhere to be seen. ‘What do you think? North or south?’

‘They’ll only go north if they’re staying in Wales,’ said Marie, this time with more conviction in her voice.

‘Yeah, I think you’re right,’ agreed Lynch and turned left. After three minutes of hard driving they saw the Mercedes in the distance, just arriving at Llanrhidian village. ‘Got them,’ said Lynch with satisfaction.

The Mercedes turned onto the B4271, heading east. ‘They’re going to the airport,’ said Marie, looking up from the map. ‘Or Swansea.’

There was very little traffic about and Lynch realised that it wouldn’t be long before the occupants of the Mercedes realised that they were being pursued. ‘Hold the map up, play the tourist,’ said Lynch.