Richard Wiseman - To Kill Or Be Killed

Liverpool

6-30 a.m.

April 18th

Tony sat on the bed in Jaz’s room cleaning his Sig220. Jaz looked up as the regular click of bullets being loaded back into the magazine clip interrupted her reading of the early morning DIC e-mails.

“You expecting trouble?”

“Yup. You’re not?”

“Well the armed police should be able to deal with the rough stuff.”

“This guy killed two unarmed men. Shot them in the back of the head and then shot each through the heart without hesitating. One of his colleagues fought to the death, outnumbered at that. Another shot an unarmed dog handler and the dog. I bet you that there’s a wave of murders in their wake. If we’re the first to come in to contact I’m likely to shoot first and talk later.”

“That’s not what Jack wants. He wants them alive.”

“He’ll be lucky if last night is anything to go by.”

Jaz went back to her e-mails.

“First up is that the Peugeot was seen heading into Manchester, local police are looking for it. Second is that a listening team near the house of Sternway MI6 dirty tricks have a conversation which might implicate him, there’s an image of a fifth man, the one who killed the dog handler and finally we’ve got a helicopter ready for us at the airport to take us to Manchester Airport.”

Tony cocked the pistol, put it on safety and holstered it.

“You think he’ll go out by plane?”

“Well it’s as likely as any. He’d have to be disguised, but Spencer’s baggage had fake passports. He’ll try to get to some safe spot quickly, probably under the wings of the buyer’s contacts, so a plane seems likely.”

“He won’t be booked so we’ll have to monitor bookings, but we might as well have local DIC watching all CCTV covered exits.” Shadz joined them immaculate as ever.

“After Wally’s murder everyone is watching.” Jaz looked Shadz over. “I take it you’re ready to go?”

“Yes. Ready.”

“Alright let’s get to Manchester, the quicker the better. Cobb could already be on a flight.”

The phone by the bed rang and Tony answered.

“Sure. No tell them to wait, just surround the hotel and area. Only make a move if he wakes and checks out. We’ve got a helicopter waiting and we’ll be there in about half an hour. If you do have to move try to take him alive.” He hung up with a smile creasing his handsome face.

“They found the Peugeot at the Bewley’s Hotel. A man fitting Cobb’s description checked in last night. He hasn’t checked out. Jaz e-mail the local DIC for that area and ask them to check CCTV for the airport car park, the hotel and roads in and out throughout the night. Armed police are there and waiting for us so we’ve got to move and fast.”

They quickly packed the last of their equipment and took a taxi to the airport. The helicopter was fuelled and waiting and they were in the air by seven-thirty am.

Manchester

7-30 a.m.

April 18th

The barking of a dog woke Cobb from his uncomfortable sleep in the car at the Daisy Nook Country Park up the motorway from Manchester. He uncurled from his cramped position on the back seat and squinted through the leaves of the branches he had pulled down to cover the car, even then he had parked it off road amongst trees.

A thin a pinched looking woman was throwing a ball for a Great Dane, but she was a good distance away and passed him by pursuing her dog into the park.

Sure that she was gone, Cobb got out of the car and removed the branches. The car quickly started and he drove into the car park and pulled up. He put the heaters on and laid out his collection of ‘gathered’ items on the passenger seat. He had cards, cash and ID. He looked again at Wally’s picture.

It crossed his mind that he was going to need a wig and that would take some organising. He knew that he needed to change his appearance at least a little to get around Manchester so that he could shop the items. He wasn’t going to use Wally’s card to shop, but if the drunk didn’t rise until late he might well get his needs met before that stolen card was cancelled.

On a whim he checked the boot and found a small bag with a scarf and a rain coat folded in it. There was a hood on it which would cover his close shaved hair until he could get a hat. Too his delight he found a laptop in its case complete with connections to the cell phone.

Cobb lit a cigarette and fired up the laptop. The user profile was password protected, but a trawl through the phone found a ‘wallet’ file with passwords and to his delight the pin numbers for the two cards in the wallet and the verified by visa password. The phone was contract and the signal was strong enough for internet. Cobb logged on and searched for the Manchester Airport booking website.

There was a flight at ten-thirty and he bought a ticket in the card holder’s name. That gave him three hours to get ready and get the flight. He felt sure that disguised as Wally he’d pass through check in quickly and he could easily pass off the booking name as his boss buying the ticket last minute.

He smoked a second cigarette looking for a wig shop and shops with the clothing items he noted Wally had been wearing. Fifteen minutes saw him done and as two cars arrived, spilling dogs onto the tarmac and off into the woods, Cobb decided to make a move. He drove onto the 62 and headed back into Manchester.

Perth

8 a.m.

April 18th

The smell of bacon woke David from his uncomfortable sleep on the sofa. Rising from dark dreams into unfamiliar surroundings he sat up suddenly. Beaumont appeared in the doorway fresh from the bathroom.

“What time is it?”

“It’s just after eight am.” Beaumont sat down in an armchair April rain spattering the glass behind him.

McFarlane entered carrying a plate of bacon sandwiches. David frowned at the greasy, smoky smell.

“Here a good solid breakfast. Set you up for the day. I figure you’ve got a long day ahead.”

Beaumont’s eyes lit up.

“Good man.” He took the plate and selected a thick doorstep of a sandwich, taking a sizeable bite.

“I was up early. I checked the e-mails and this came through from the centre.” McFarlane handed David sheets of paper, one with a passport photo. “That’s Trevor Stanton. He’s ex Foreign Legion and a freelance assassin.”

David read the file, extracted from MI6 system by DIC after a decryption department foray into their computer system.

“Nasty piece of work.” He handed the picture to Beaumont. “Do you think he’s in the area still?”

McFarlane rubbed his chin reflectively. “Well he got as far as Glasgow if he got to the motorway and hitched a lift.”

“We’re heading for Glasgow after interviews today.”

“Not Edinburgh?” Beaumont spoke through a mouthful of bacon sandwich.

“Why Edinburgh?”

“East coast get a boat head down and come up the Thames I thought.”

“Wheeler’s not out of Glasgow. We could tell local DIC to watch Edinburgh marinas and exits. If we’re in Glasgow it’s only a short trip, but I’m sure I’d head for Glasgow if I were him. Maybe we should decide after we’ve interviewed staff and spoken to the police.”

“Listen lads I’d let me do the interviews and you get to Glasgow. This guy will be on an early start and if you leave quickly enough you’ll get ahead. I can e-mail you the results of the interviews.”

Beaumont nodded. “Get Jack to book us hotel rooms and see if he can get us a helicopter to Glasgow.”

“I’ll go get washed and dressed.” David got up wrapping the blanket around his waist.

“Have a sandwich first.”