Andrew Morgan - Vessel

‘I know it seems far-fetched,’ Aleks said, sensing the tangible incredulity in Banin’s tone, ‘but it’s true, I swear it.’

‘Aliens?’ Banin repeated.

‘Okay, forget the aliens—’

‘Forget the aliens?’

‘Forget the aliens. There’s something in space that Bales is trying to destroy, and he won’t stop at anything to do it.’

‘Uh huh. And what’s that got to do with me?’

‘He’s wiping out anyone that stands in his way.’

Aleks searched Banin’s face for any sign that he was getting through to him, but he wasn’t sure. ‘And that includes Lev Ryumin. But worse, I think Bales is going to do it again.’

‘To who?’

‘A journalist called Sean Jacob.’

Banin sighed a long, drawn out sigh, and held his hands up in defeat. ‘It sounds like I’ve barely scratched the surface of this crazy picture,’ he said, ‘but I’ve got a case to solve and you’re the only clue left.’

A little prickle of flame leaped in Aleks’ chest. ‘So what now?’ he asked.

‘We find Bales.’

Before Aleks could ask, But how do we do that?, Banin was on the phone.

‘Hi, can you get a twenty-four hour ANPR scan of all government vehicles — foreign included — and let me know the results, please? Thanks.’

He hung up.

‘We have a list of all the diplomatic vehicles and their registrations,’ he explained to Aleks. ‘Run that through our number plate recognition cameras around the city and we can get a rough idea of where those vehicles are and where they’re going. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s a start.’

The phone rang.

‘Banin. Uh huh. Okay. Yep. Thanks.’

‘That was quick,’ Alex said after Banin hung up.

‘It’s all digital now,’ Banin replied, waking his computer with a wiggle of the mouse. ‘I’ll print it off.’

He went to fetch the printouts, holding a thick wad of paper on his return. Each page had a map with circles on it, some numbered and some greyed out, and underneath each map was a list of information.

‘Here,’ said Banin, handing Aleks half the wad and a pen. ‘Each page is a different vehicle, and each circle is a camera. The numbered circles correspond with an ANPR trigger, and the time of the trigger is listed below. The greyed out circles are cameras that haven’t been triggered. Trace the route on each map and make a note of any extended stops, plus the time the vehicle passed its last camera. This is a week’s worth of data, so look out for suspicious vehicle behaviour — frequent journeys out of town, spending a long time in a single location, that sort of thing.’

Aleks did as he was told. Most of the vehicles didn’t seem to have moved at all in the last week. Some had been out into central Moscow and back a few times. All fairly normal. Others had left Moscow completely, and a few of those had not yet returned. That last set of vehicles was the one Aleks piled up separately. By the time they were finished, that pile contained seven vehicles.

‘Right then,’ said Banin, leafing through the sheets. ‘This one is a prison van, so I doubt it’s going to be that… this is the Mayor’s car — I doubt he has anything to do with this…’

He continued to read through the sheets, stopping at the last. ‘Hmm…’ he said, brow wrinkled in thought.

‘What?’ said Aleks, leaning over the desk to see.

‘This is an imported US vehicle, and it seems to have passed one ANPR camera along the highway south out of Moscow, but not the next one a mile later. It must have pulled off at these warehouses and stopped. That was half-an-hour ago.’

‘That could be him.’

Banin nodded, still looking over the print out. ‘I think you might be right.’

‘Shall we go check it out?’

‘Whoa there—since when did you become the partner I never wanted?’

‘It’s either that or you arrest me, because if you leave me here I’m straight out the door. You’ll never see me again.’

Folding the paper and putting it in his pocket, Banin grumbled to himself as he eyeballed Aleks.

‘Fine,’ he said at last. He stood, grabbed his jacket, and beckoned Aleks to follow. As they walked back down the stairs, Banin adjusted his pistol holster, stopping at a landing halfway down a floor.

‘Let me tell you something before we step outside into the free world,’ he said. ‘You’re under my supervision and, like you so eloquently put, you should be in bracelets, so if you even think of making a run for it I’ll shoot you deader than dead.’

Banin may have been shorter than Aleks, but that didn’t make him any less frightening.

‘Understood,’ Aleks said, holding his hands up in submission. ‘After all, I came here to you in the first place, didn’t I?’

‘Yes. I suppose you did. But that doesn’t change anything.’

Banin started down the stairs again, then stopped, turning back to Aleks, finger pointing. ‘And if I find out this story is a bunch of bull, I’ll shoot you dead for that, too.’

Aleks swallowed and nodded. ‘Sure…’

‘Good. Let’s go.’

They climbed into Banin’s rusted car and set off at breakneck pace. It seemed that Banin knew his way around a steering wheel like he did the backstreets of Moscow. The back tyres squealed as Banin hurled the car around another tight corner, dodging a lorry coming the other way that honked at him. Banin gave his hidden lights and siren a short blast and the lorry stopped its honking.

‘Idiot…’ Banin muttered.

Aleks stayed quiet, thinking it best not to correct Banin on his understanding of right of way. They peeled away from the city and onto the freeway, which shot bullet-straight due south and into the countryside. Bridges whipped overhead, Banin pushing the old car far beyond any kind of comfortable — or legal — limit, blasting his siren at any car dawdling in front. Aside from the roar of the wind and engine, the journey was a silent one, Aleks quite happy not to distract Banin from his frightening speed. As late morning became early afternoon and the clouds rolled in, Banin took an exit off the highway that turned into a overgrown, bumpy track.

‘This seems pretty secluded,’ he said, and Aleks silently agreed with his observation.

Ahead, a pack of dilapidated warehouses came into view, the corrugated sheet walls flaking with rust. A large sign hung over the road, peeling to the point of near-indecipherability. It seemed to indicate the warehouses were once home to a car assembly plant.

‘I’ll park up here and we’ll walk in,’ Banin said, pulling up behind a small shed. He turned the car so it was facing the exit and killed the engine. When they got out, Aleks noticed how quiet the place was — eerie even. The rush of the motorway they had left not a few minutes ago was made silent by the crest of the hill between them and it. Rusted shells, stacked up on top of one another, were dotted about the open space, memorials of a dead industry. Grass sprouted from between bricks and through concrete, the consuming power of nature swallowing this abandoned place up whole.

Following Banin, Aleks crept towards the first warehouse. As they approached it, they saw a black SUV parked up around the corner of what looked to be an old paint shed. Banin nodded at the SUV, drew his pistol, and they moved on. The warehouse door was ajar and, indicating to Aleks to stay outside, Banin slipped into the shadow. Aleks waited several long moments before he returned, shaking his head.

‘No one’s here.’

They continued their sombre tour of the car graveyard, Banin checking every warehouse, each time coming back empty-handed, until they reached a chain-link fence at the far perimeter. Banin holstered his pistol, looking out at the hilly fields beyond.