Kapps

Prologue

Peter Lovell handed Rosetta box of groceries through the yacht hatch. ’Are you happy with it?’ he asked

‘Yes very,’ she said, her light brown face beaming up at him.

‘I’ll start the motor and once we are out of the port we can hoist the sails.’

It was hot and humid on shore but now in open waters and the Port of Darwin behind them, a cool breeze had sprung up flapping the main sail. Peter altered course slightly filling the sail causing the yacht to lean a little.

Rosetta poked her head out of the hatch her dark shoulder length hair whipping across her face.

‘Permission to come aboard captain,’ she said, stepping out wearing just a G-string bikini; in her hand was a tube of suntan lotion.

‘Take off your shirt captain,’ she said as she waved the tube under his nose; ‘this newly qualified intern want’s to practice medicine.’

His eyes grew large and his shorts tight.

‘Am I under doctors’ orders?’ He said stripping off.

He held his arms wide as Rosetta squirted cream on his chest. They moved closer and began to slowly cover each other with the white salve. His hands moved over her ribs then teasingly and gently began to caress her small breasts, he felt her nipples harden. Peter felt the boat move a little off course but it was a minor distraction. He reached out and grabbed the wheel.

‘Will I get sun burnt there Peter darling?’ She whispered hoarsely.

‘Can’t take a chance sweetheart,’ he said looking down at the dark hardening nipples.

Rosetta slide her hands under his arms and began to slowly rub in the cream getting lower and lower until she had pushed her small hands under the top of his shorts and down over his rump. Peter followed suit his hands sliding over her pert behind.

‘Do we have automatic steering?’ Rosetta asked pushing down his shorts,.

‘I’ll fix the steering,’ he gasped getting out of his shorts, nearly losing his balance as the boat hit a small wave.

‘With all this suntan lotion I hope we don’t slide of the bunk,’ Rosetta said.

Forty minutes later, naked and drinking beer, Peter was back at the wheel as the boat smoothly made its way through the blue water.

‘Can it be any better than this Rose, blue sea a gentle breeze dolphins off the port bow, a beautiful naked girl who can cook…’

‘Alright I’ll go below and do dinner,’ she said slipping away from his lithe muscular body, still feeling that tingle in her nether religions.

‘You had better dress.’

She then wiggled her behind at him before going below; Peter made a growling noise.

At the hire boat office a grey haired old man was yelling at his taller well-built son, the youth was tanned, not very good-looking, which was about on a par with his IQ, less than perfect.

‘How was I to know they had booked the boat through the owner,’ the son argued, ‘that meant two people had booked the same boat but no one told me it was damaged, so I gave the boat owners friends the Ibis just as it was, the first hirer gets the yacht you always told me.’’

The old man was walking up and down his fists clenching and unclenching.

‘I knew we shouldn’t have been agents for those poxy rich buggers from Queensland.’

He then turned on his son, ‘couldn’t you give them one of the others.’
‘I tried to but they said his dad’s friend told them there was no charge, what was I going to do, let them have someone else’s boat for free.

The father went up into the taller younger man’s face.

‘Do you know what you have done?’ He said attempting to grab his son’s shirtfront.

Knocking his father’s hand away he grabbed his throat pulling him inches from his face. ‘No I don’t bloody know, you never tell me jack shit and you should have been here instead of down the pub,’ he said as he thrust the older man away. The father staggered back coming to rest against the counter, he remained silent for a good two minutes, then recovering, began to walk up and down in the small office mumbling.

‘What am I going to do, oh shit this is bad.’ He went on like this for several more minutes finally the old man said, his voice breaking. ‘Get out I have to make a phone call,’

The son wondered what all the fuss was about, the old man was so upset, even frightened; he had never seen him like that before, sod it he thought it’s too hot to argue and thought about a nice cool beer.

After leaving Darwin Peter and Rosetta had a choice, go east into the Clarence Strait for two hundred kilometers then head north for another two hundred Ks in the Van Diemen gulf between Melville Island and the Arnhem Land peninsula; either that or sailing in the same straits and go west. They chose the latter it was safer and would take them at least two days before they could sail out of the straits and around Bathurst Island and into the Timor Sea.

‘Where are we heading?’ Rosetta called, lying naked on a towel on the bow of the boat.

‘Somewhere on the east coast of PNG that’s if we have time; it’s a long way, depends on the wind and tide.’

’How far is far?’ She shook her towel and carefully walked the narrow sloping deck to where Peter stood at the wheel. The seas were building, waves now reaching one metre, the wind heeled the yacht over causing Rosetta to stumble in the hatch way.

‘Better get some clothes on,’ Peter said reluctantly.

The weather had hastened their arrival off the PNG coast, it was exhilarating, the wind came from the south west pushing the little yacht through the metre high waves the cool sea splashing their half-naked bodies. At first as the boat heeled over, Rosetta’s wide eyes showed apprehension, then as she clung to her lover in the wheel pit she slowly relaxed and enjoyed the ride.

They were tired as at last they dropped anchor, it wasn’t only the speed of the boat and the constant need to be alert that gave them little time to relax, having one of them on watch that had dampened their enthusiasm for love making.

Dropping anchor in the lee of a small island, they celebrated with Champagne. Peter went fishing and caught a large fish; he then filleted it and cooked it with herbs over the small galley stove. After they had eaten he called his father as he had promised. It had been a beautiful day warm almost cloudless, Peter scanned the shore with his binoculars.

‘What do you see?’ Rosetta said, standing beside Peter wearing a topless sarong, he handed the glasses to her; she adjusted them and moved them left and right.

‘It’s awfully flat, looks a bit swampy,’ she said handing the glasses back to her lover.

With wine glasses full they sat with their backs to the rolled up main sail, listening to the ting of metal against mast as gently the boat rose and fell with the tranquil blue sea.

‘Can’t get any better than this’ Peter said lying back on the warm deck.

Rosetta did the same closing her eyes behind the dark sunglasses.

‘You said that before,’ she murmured. Turning on his elbow he went to say something then he grinned and lay back, she was asleep.

Just before dark the couple had a swim, made love then went to bed.

Peter awoke to the movement of the boat, the wind’s picking up he thought, better check the anchor.He sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his face in an effort to wake.

‘What’s the matter?’ mumbled the sleepy girl.

Peter yawned and said, ’just going to check the anchor, go back to sleep.

He lurched of the bed with the movement of the boat and almost fell into the galley, moaning about his lack of coordination he stepped into the cabin, hands either side of the doorway, he blinked uncertain of what he was seeing or was not seeing, was it a dream or a nightmare; it was crowded with dark figures waving long black arms reaching out to him, before he could call out they were dragging him to the floor, Rosetta screamed.

Chapter One

We filed in, some early some late, surveying the room and its occupants, all but one of us wore jeans and tee shirts of assorted colours. Most were in need of a shave and a haircut, except the last man to enter, his name was Victor Barns, his hair was closely cropped and he wore beige shorts, beige shirt and sandals; A couple of men nodded to him, one, a large mean looking man of about thirty said ‘Hi Vic,’ he ignored the man and gave me a wink and a brief smile.

We were in a small portable building in the corner of the barracks, rarely used except for the occasional briefing, Special Forces and the like. An order to sell or destroy the old hut was given some twenty years ago, either someone has a soft spot for it or the paper work got lost, it still survives held together by layers of cream and green paint.

’How ya going Jimbo?,’ Vic asked, Jimbo gave him a nod as if to say ‘mate’.

‘What’s on the menu then,’ said Al Cooper, whose nick name was Alice, better, he thought than being called Albert. He was a slim man in his mid-twenties, with mousy brown hair and a scar that ran from his left temple to his eyebrow, his habit was to run his finger over the puckered skin; taking joy in thinking of what he did to the man who had marked him.

‘Dunno,’ replied a man at the back of the room, ‘probably got to pull somebody’s arse out of the fire, the usual thing, what do you think Corp?’ he said looking at me.

‘I’m not sure, but I think we are being invited to dine with Mr Rudd.’’

There were chuckles all round.

‘Who’s he?’ said Allen Marks, the squad medic, in his mid-thirties with fair thinning hair and average height; we called him ‘Doc Marks.’

‘He’s my boss,’ Angelo Torrisi said, ‘or at least he thinks he is.’

The laughter died down as a smartly dressed man in a grey suit and pale blue tie entered the room.

Lieutenant Robert Jones slid his brief case over the cheap metal table then perched his behind on the corner.

’Okay, don’t get up,’ he said raising his hand, none of us had moved; sarcastic bastard.

‘Got a quick job for you; maybe a quick look in and out, that sort of thing.’

‘Oh yeah,’ we were all thinking, Jumbo said it for us,, ‘never had one of those yet, go in, cause some devastation and maybe get shot at, shoot back and if we are lucky get home almost in one piece and lick our wounds.’

No wonder he never gets promotion I thought.

Jones stood, undid his coat and put his hands in his trousers pocket.

Are these officers getting younger or is it me getting older I thought.

The thing is we are not in the army, we sit somewhere between ASIs and the military, we were formed just after the 9-11 Debacle, as in all the civilised countries all forms of war took on a new slant. The squad is recycled every couple of years or so.

‘This is a delicate situation,’ Jones said, waiting for a reaction from the men sitting on the cheap chairs in the small room.

‘This one,’ he continued ‘has government connections.’

The six of us belonged to no specific squad or regiment and knew that all operations had government knowledge; well almost all. Ninety eight percent of Parliamentarians never knew we existed. The men in the group were sometimes called ‘the dirty half dozen’ by those in the know,

‘The Minister of Defence, Mr. John Lovell is asking for your help and discretion,’ the officer continued.

‘Cant he get laid then, I could give him a few numbers,’ Allen Marks said.

‘He’s not into little boys Doc,’ Said Vic Barns

‘What about big boys?’ Jimbo simpered.

‘Okay settle down,’ Jones said trying to gain some control. ‘This is about his son Peter, the Minister thinks something has happened to him.’

‘Doesn’t he know?’ I asked.

‘It’s not quite what it seems, Peter hasn’t been heard of for three days.’

‘Probably sleeping it off somewhere,’ Angelo Torrisi said.

‘If he is, he’s in trouble, he last called in three days ago off the coast of Papua, his father insisted that he keep in touch and Peter called in regularly at about six o’clock every night.’

’Except the last three nights, Al Cooper said.

’Aren’t we reading too much into this – he’s not on his own is he? ’I asked.

‘I was coming to that, no he’s with a young lady, a Rosetta Campini, she has just finished her degree in medicine, they were having a holiday before she starts as an intern at the local hospital.’

‘No wonder he hasn’t called in, probably shagged out,’ Jumbo said.

There was silence from the group each thinking a different scenario.

‘I know what you are all thinking,’ Jones said turning and taking a map out of his brief case.

‘Excuse me sir, but isn’t this a job for the coast guard or the navy?’ I said.

‘Not the coastguard – but the navy, maybe.’

‘Gather round,’ he said spreading out the map.

Tapping the map he said, ‘that’s where it was last seen.’

‘How do you know that?’ Cooper said.

‘Lovell said he could see an island to the north, a large island.’

‘But with respect sir there are plenty of large islands along the coast of New Guinea and Indonesia.’ Jimbo said.

‘Quite right, but we narrowed it down by collating his time at sea, the tide and prevailing weather patterns, to a certain area. The Minister asked the Americans if he could view the satellite that passes over that area. One pass showed what could be their yacht, another showed it had disappeared. They had to wait until the satellite came round again and on close scrutiny showed something rather odd.’

Nobody commented but waited.

From his case the officer pulled out a larger photo.

‘The coast appears to be sparsely inhabited, not true as some of you know, resorts have sprung up and because of the numerous rivers and streams there are a large amount of small fishing villages.’ He paused holding up the large print out, ‘there are however some remote areas,’ he passed the print to the nearest man.

’Pass it round and tell me what you think of the circled area.

We crowded around Vic Barnet; nobody spoke for a few minutes, then we all began to point and give our opinion, we stopped when Jones waved a magnifying glass at us; Allen Marks grabbed it and took a closer look; he then passed it around.

When finished the officer said.

‘Have you reached any conclusions?’

Cooper leant back on his chair and said. ‘Nothing conclusive is there sir, could be anything…’

‘But it could be,’ I started to say before I was interrupted by Jimbo.

‘Someone is trying to cover something up with some sort of vegetation.’

’You think it’s the boat Mr Jones? I said.

He nodded, ‘so do the Americans, they had one of their reconnaissance satellites take a closer look.’

‘Don’t you mean Spy Sat sir?’ Barnes said.

The officer smiled and shrugged and said, ‘if you are going to ask is this the closest they can get to the yacht; no its not, we all know they can get closer, probably tell from the foot prints in the sand what size shoes the person who made them wore.’

‘And they think we don’t know how close they can get,’ Marks said sarcastically.

I decided to cut to the chase, ‘you want us to go in and find out what’s happened?’

‘Yes and something else I should tell you that may help, the owner of the yacht is a friend of John Lovell’s and lives in Darwin; he installed a beacon into his radio; if any person on board gets into trouble he activates it via a hidden switch. We think Peter Lovell would have done this, unfortunately it has a limited range; about fifteen kilometres.’

‘Better than nothing,’ someone said.

‘When do we go in?’ I asked.

‘ASAP,’ Jones said.

’Do you think this is the work of pirates ’Vic Barnes asked.

‘Could be; there have been reports of them working out of Singapore, or it could just be an accident.’

‘But you don’t think so,’ I asked.

‘Not the way the boat has been camouflaged, no.’

So they did have better photos, I thought.

‘Someone must have called in a favour,’ Al Cooper said. ‘How many other yachts have gone missing, bet they didn’t get a Spy Sat, or call us in.’

The officer held up his hands, ‘I hear what you are saying and no-one is ordering you to do this, it is strictly voluntary.’

‘Do we have a say in how we do it?’ Marks said.

‘Yes, you are on your own, but we will discreetly back you up.’

‘Like a Patrol boat and a Zodiac to put us ashore?’ I said, reflecting on other jobs we had been on; I had been working on a plan for several minutes.

Lieutenant Jones smiled knowingly. It fitted in with his plans.

‘You have been booked on the five-thirty plane to Darwin, and, yes you have customs clearance to take on whatever you need,’ he began to pack his briefcase.

‘This is not a commercial flight, you will be picked up from the camp in two hours; you will have time to make plans before you get there, you will need to go ashore at night, but of course you know that, oh and the navy has been fully briefed,’ he snapped shut his case and wished us good luck.

We landed in Darwin later that evening, our gear was small; we hadn’t planned for a long stay. Each took our favourite weapons, a pistol and an automatic rifle, with the appropriate amount of ammo. Unscented insect repellent and lots of water was a must, there was also the usual first aid kit. Doc Marks he had extra medical supplies in case of emergencies.

We all dressed in light cotton long sleeved camouflaged shirts and trousers, before embarking we would grease paint our faces.

Late afternoon the following day, we left Darwin Navy barracks and boarded the patrol boat, I wasn’t to know, but my life in the next forty-eight hours, was about to change dramatically.

Chapter Two

We had been planning the job since Sydney and there didn’t seem very much more to do on the boat but check our weapons, we had done this sort of job many times before, which doesn’t mean we were blasé about the op’ everyone is different and the unexpected could have nasty consequences, we just had to get in unnoticed, find out what was going on and get Lovell and his girlfriend out, if we could get the boat back as well and kill a few pirates, well that would be a bonus.

The pictures they had shown us didn’t do the Spy Sat justice; we all knew that it could read a newspaper from twelve thousand kilometres above Earth, but we were poor Aussies and didn’t warrant the full business.

The Patrol Boat Armistice and its twenty-one crew helped load us into a large inflatable called a Zodiac, it was designed to carry the whole crew.

As we neared the beach, I checked the radio with the Skipper of the Armistice to see if we were still in contact, we were, he wished us luck and said he would be on standby.

This part of the coast in the Papua province of Indonesia was rocky and lay North of New Guinea, where a range of mountains separated the two countries.

The creek or small river, where the yacht was hidden, was one of many that ran from the mountains to the coast. Further north there was a large island, the land north of that was flat and swamp

Holding our weapons and small packs above our heads we waded ashore in single file and hurried for the cover of a dark line of trees.

I glanced over my shoulder at the Zodiac; it was disappearing toward the dark horizon, we checked our throat microphones, all okay; I said ‘go,’ Vic Barnes grabbed a fallen palm frond and backtracked our footprints in the sand; I left him wiping away the evidence of our arrival and followed Cooper into the trees, he went a few metres north to cover our backs, Angelo Torrisi would take up point once he had found the track, Jimbo Jackson found it first and whispered to Angelo to take point there, he switched on his night goggles then turning he saw I had done the same, he gave the thumbs up and moved off. The night vision goggles gave off a bluish tinge, better than the previous glasses which gave off a green glow. He crouched down waiting for us to catch-up; Vic came up beside me followed by Doc Marks. We all moved off,

In some places the going was hard, in others easy, rotting leaves made it slippery underfoot and even though it was 1:00 am it was hot and humid. The smell of decomposing vegetation hung on the sticky night air, we constantly changed places with point and rear guard, calculating it to be three clicks to the creek, but because of the nature of the land combined with the rise and fall, it was probably more. There was no fear of not finding a track, there always was one. Both humans and animals would take the easy path, everything here would be on the move either looking for food or water.

A voice in my ear, it was Doc Marks on point.

‘Boss there is some activity about two hundred metres ahead, I can smell cooking.’

’Probably an Indonesian take away, whispered Jimbo Jackson., we suppressed laughter.

Five minutes later we caught up with Doc Marks, he was wiping the blade of his knife on a lifeless body before him.

‘Sorry boss but he came down the slope and ran straight into me.’

I waved away his apology; this part of the track had taken on a left turn going around an elevated rocky landscape.

Doc gave a shove and the corpse rolled down the slope and into the darkness.

‘Al,’ I whispered, ‘go scout ahead, we are going to make ourselves scarce and get off these bloody rocks.’

Al melted silently in the night.

With our night glasses we could see the nocturnal life cross the path ahead, once a huge python that seemed to take forever, slid slowly across; there were small noises all around as the nocturnal inhabitants foraged for food. To anyone who hadn’t experienced it, looking through the glasses was a weird scenario, like walking in a pale blue alien landscape.

We found an area off the track where we could hide and take the opportunity to drink some water. Sweat trickled down my face, my thin cotton long sleeved shirt was soaked, not only with perspiration but with the high humidity condensing and falling from the large foliage around us. The plant life in the undergrowth has mostly large leaves to catch the filtered sunlight.

My earpiece crackled and Al whispered in my ear.

‘There are eight that I can see, how many are on the boat I don’t know, six are squatting around some sort of shelter, two are walking about with automatic weapons, don’t know if they are expecting someone. The creek is quite wide here and it looks like the tide has eroded the banks somewhat, there’s a drop of about four metres from the edge of the trees, and boss, they all have some sort of weapon and there’s another track big enough for a four wheel drive that comes down about fifty or sixty metres from this one, it goes north east.’

‘Thanks Al, keep your head down, we’re moving now.’

We began to move, like ghosts, silent, odd shapes blending with the thick vegetation, the land rose over assorted wet slippery debris, insects dive bombed our heads, and occasionally nature’s nocturnal creatures stopped hunting until we passed.

‘Vic, Angelo, cross over the other track if you can…’

‘I see what you are getting at,’ broke in Vic Barnes, my second in command.

‘I’ll get Doc to cover the track while you get round behind them, we will watch the corner of the creek.’

‘What’s the go boss?’ asked Torrisi.

‘When we are in position I’ll give you the nod; you give them a shout; they won’t go quietly, so keep your heads down, you know the drill.’

It was five minutes past two when Vic shouted to them to lay down their arms. I was on a small sparsely covered rocky outcrop when the shooting began, heavy machine gun fire began to shred leaves and branches in front of me, the spray of metal was rapidly coming my way I quickly dived to the protection of a large tree in an effort to go prone and get into the firing position, the ground gave way and I found myself falling into space, my right hand clawed the air hoping to find something to stop my fall, my left hand held the Heckler and Koch G 36 rifle, I didn’t want to let that go as my other weapon was a pistol with a limited range of about forty five feet.My boots kicked into the bank trying to find some purchase, the toes of my boots desperately seeking a foot hold, suddenly I stopped. Looking up through my night glasses I could see about two metres above me the edge of the overhang and see also what I was hanging onto with my right hand, it was a tree root, thick and strong I hoped. A new burst of heavy gun fire shredded the tree canopy above me. Then suddenly just as quick as it started the fire fight above me stopped. I searched for a better grip with my right boot, pieces of soil and rock crumbled and gave way, I decided that if I could throw my HK up and over the top I might find it easier to climb. The thought had occurred to me, go down, but how far was it to the bottom? I was about to toss my rifle up when the firing re-started and intensified. Shit, I thought, got to get out of here to back up the lads.

A voice in my ear, it was Jimbo Jackson talking to the others, ‘I got him Vic the other two are hands up.’

I was looking skyward ready to throw up my rifle when I felt something crawling on my hand; it looked through my night glasses, like a creature from Avatar. The body of the spider was the size of a twenty-cent piece. As I struggled to hold on to the roots, my hand become entangled. When I began to struggle to free it the spider must have felt threatened by the movement, so it bit me.

If I had blinked I probably would have missed it, the spider jumped as the snake struck; to add to the confusion I heard voices in my ear.

‘Boss where are you? We have control, talk to me.’

‘Vic, anyone hurt?’

‘Not on our side there isn’t.’

With the root I was hanging on to not looking to safe, I threw my rifle up and hoped it stayed there; I began to make my way up.

‘Vic –anybody, I have a problem,’ I said as I scrambled over the top.

Doc answered, ‘not been hit have you boss,’ his voice was calm, professional. ‘Where are you?’

My hand was already swelling and the pain started to burn.

‘I’ve been bitten Doc.’

‘Stay where you are, don’t move – where are you?’

‘What bit you?’ Torrisi said in my ear.

‘A spider – and a snake,’ I said, my voice sounded hollow.

Voices echoed in my head.

‘Christ you don’t do things by half do you.’

‘Holy shit,’ said another voice.’

There came more comments, I interrupted before I became too disoriented.

‘How are the crew?’ I didn’t give them time to answer.

‘Get the yacht ready, we leave ASAP.’

Doc came out of the night just as I rolled over the top of the outcrop

‘You didn’t say where you were.’

’ ‘I didn’t know where I was,’ I managed

He had his shoulder bag open as I rolled up my sleeve.

As he tightly bound up my arm with a crepe bandage he said. ‘We had to start without you, sorry we got rumbled,’

’What sort of spider was it? He said taking out a vial and a syringe from his bag.

After telling him what had happened and he had finished injecting me with the anti-venin serum, he asked me how I felt.

In truth the pain had increased quite considerably, my heart was racing, and disorientation was setting in.

‘We’ve got get you out of here,’ his voice was laced with concern, standing he began to talk to the patrol boat captain on his radio.

‘He suggests we get the yacht out to sea now, he’s on his way and he is sending the Zodiac ahead, I’ve got to tell you, I have never come across anything like this, the sooner we get you to Darwin the better.’

‘Coming in,’ said a voice from the dark, I think it was Jumbo; my sense of reality was now slipping a fraction.

‘You alright mate?’ he said picking up my rifle.

There came a sudden burst of gunfire.

We all three jabbered into our mikes.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Do you need us?’

You in trouble?’

‘No we’re right,’ Torrisi said, ‘silly buggers, the two with their hands up had concealed weapons, as we went to search them they made the play, silly buggers.’

Jimbo Jackson called it in, ‘we’re coming in, get that boat moving.’

Doc and Jimbo grabbed me under the arms and lifted.

‘You should be lying down and not moving,’ Doc said.

‘Yeah I know,’ I gritted through my pain. It was a requirement of the squad to have a certain amount of medical training, but what could I do, lie down and hope to live? As we moved towards the creek bank, I asked how Lovell and his girlfriend were.

‘A bit roughed up, I think we got there just in time, they were all on the grog.’

I was only half paying attention as, nausea, the shakes, pain, and lack of awareness; it was all happening, somehow I didn’t give a rat’s arse.

‘One of the bastards picked up his machine gun and began to strafe the...,’ someone was saying.

The track was narrow and Doc and Jimbo had trouble supporting me because of my lack of coordination.

’Took us by surprise, so we took ‘em down, someone said.’

We came out on to a muddy creek bank, a small fire lit a rough shelter it showed a pile of bodies, Al Cooper was doing something to them, Vic Barnes came running up to us slipping his shoulder under my arm.

‘Come on mate your yacht awaits you, we’ve got to move, there’s a village not far from here and they will be here any minute, also the tide is on the turn.’

I heard the diesel engine on the boat ticking over as we walked up a roughly constructed jetty to the stern.

Somehow I made it to the cabin and sat down, it was small and cramped.

‘Lie down skip and hold tight we are about to go into the surf.’

‘Everyone on board?’ I mumbled.

‘Yeah, you just hang on, it will be a bit rough for a minute or two,’ I think it was Jimbo.

We were stripping off gear just in case we should capsize, I say we but Doc did most of it for me.

‘Alice is at the back in case we are fired on from the shore, he said.’

Vic Barnes said, ‘Peter Lovell is at the helm.’

‘Doc, I’ve been bitten before,’ I managed to say, ‘but, unless it’s a different snake, this is worse.’

‘Tell me what your symptoms are?’ A female voice said.

I thought at first I was more disorientated than I felt.

‘My name is Rosetta, I’m’ an intern, tell me what you are feeling.’

I was tempted to say Doc Marks could give you a few lessons, but didn’t have the strength.

‘Pain all over, headache, nausea,’ I held up my hand my fingers looked like a bunch of sausages, ‘can’t keep my eyes open,’ I mumbled, Then I was launched into the air, at first my muddled mind thought it was a symptom, confused I had no idea we had just broken through the surf and into the open sea.

I thought at last the morphine had begun to work until someone gave my cheek a small slap wake up, you can’t sleep,’ more slapping. ’Come on, what’s your name come on, tell me, what’s your name? I roused briefly uttering, Charlie – Charlie Kapps.’

Chapter Three

It’s strange how the action of one person can affect many, the butterfly effect – the small beating of its wings can cause a greater effect elsewhere or in the future, I didn’t realise at the time how much this would affect me in the future.

That’s how it was with Jimmy Turnbull, with his action or behaviour; it would change the lives of many. Jimmy was a prawn fisherman off Darwin, spending most of his time at sea, coming home maybe once a month depending on his success with his nets. Once back in harbour he would sell his catch, pay off his crew and go to the pub. Jimmy was a reasonably wealthy man, a BMW 4x4 in his garage and a pretty wife at home, whose income was on the moderate side kept in check by her tight-fisted husband.

After leaving the pub Jimmy would stagger, or grab a ride from one of his crew and go home to his palatial house and wife Rita, hoping for some slap and tickle. Rita having other ideas would willingly give him a slap and forgo the tickle. She would wait watching him negotiate the curved drive, stop, urinate on the flower bed then leaving his daggy shorts unzipped at the ready, let himself in, depending on how much beer and spirits he had consumed and how successful his days at sea were, Jimmy could make it to the sofa in the large lounge or fall over in the hallway.

This had been going on for nearly two years and Rita had had enough, she looked down at him in disgust as he lay on the couch, she took in the smell of fish, prawns, unwashed, unshaven flesh and the very unattractive sight of sweat stained blue singlet, baggy grey unzipped shorts and some kind of grubby footwear. Rita on this particular day stood with arms folded under her ample bosom, her long brown hair neatly in place. She grimaced once more then taking one last look at her husband she placed the ‘letter of resignation’ from her marriage on the coffee table, propped up on a bottle of beer, where he would be sure to see it. A car horn sounded outside, it was her new love, the owner of the local real-estate company, Larry Kimble.

They had met in a local coffee shop whilst seeking shelter from one of Darwin’s frequent summer afternoon storms, for both it was love at second sight for they had arranged to meet the following day.

What a difference Rita thought as she cuddled up in bed after making love in Larry’s large air conditioned house, he was clean shaven, hair neatly trimmed and good looking, the only thing that worried her was what Jimmy would do, how he would take it, he would certainly loose face with his drinking pals, but it concerned more her knowing he had a nasty temper, Larry told her not to worry he would take care of her, she sighed and went satisfyingly to sleep.

‘What do you fucking mean they took the wrong boat, we had a deal that he had to be on that particular boat?’

The elderly man behind the counter stepped back out of reach of Jimmy Turnball’s big hands.

How the fuck was he going to get the bitch and her so called man now he thought?’ Jimmy had planned it after he had heard that Larry the real-estate arsehole was taking his wife on a small trip in a hired yacht, it had been arranged, he would be boarded by so called pirates and murdered, it was easy to do as he had many so called friends in the trawler industry, owners who he had come across whilst swopping tales over a beer in the pub. It was at one of these gatherings, after plenty of alcohol had passed through many lips, that for a small fee something could be ‘arranged’ a man said tapping the side of his nose, the assembled drunks all nodded knowingly, it could be arranged they said and dispose of the two scumbags, that would be a bonus, they could do what they liked with his ungrateful bitch of a wife Jimmy slurred, then he was given a name and a number to call.

‘So what happened Tommy?’ Jimmy Turnball said spitting beer flavoured spittle over the cowering bait shop owner.

‘It was my son, he gave it to a young couple he got all mixed up and gave them the wrong boat.’

‘Where is the fucker, I want to kill him?’ shouted Turnball pushing himself off the counter then picking up a crab pot and throwing it across the room.

’So where did they go? ’He asked.

‘Who?’ Said a trembling Tommy.

‘MY FUCKING WIFE,’ he screamed.

‘I dunno,’ Tommy said looking past Jimmy and at the two burly youths about to grab him.

In the aptly named ‘people mover,’ Jimmy was being held down by three big black guys as the van bounced its way to the outskirts of Darwin then came to a stop. During the trip one of the men had to punch Jimmy in the face to shut him up,

‘Now what’s this...’ he got no further, the passenger in the front turned and said, ‘Morris sent us to collect - big time.’

Fucking Morris, Jimmy thought, oh shit I’m right in it now; he tried bluffing his way out.

‘Well, whatever your name is, he didn’t do the job did he, and I’m not going to pay unless…’

‘Shut up, how were we to do the job when the wrong people turn up?’ Then twisting further in his seat he said menacingly, ‘and guess what, we were set up and some of our mates died, shot to pieces all because you wanted your fucking slut of a wife killed. Morris is not very happy, said it put a strain on his relationship with his over-sea’s connections.’

Jimmy Turnball’s bowels wanted desperately to evacuate, ‘listen it’s not my fault it’s the dick head in charge of hiring the boat, his son gave the boat to the wrong couple – it’s not my fault…’

‘And what about the shit heads who killed our mates and stole back the boat, I suppose…’

‘No, no, what did they look like, how could I hire somebody to do that.’

Passenger man nodded to one of the men holding Turnball.

‘Day where dressed in de army stuff, one of them were injured.’

Jimmy looked at the PNG man with puzzlement.

‘Army! What the fuck is the army doing there?’ Morris’s man in the front had a feeling that Jimmy Turnball was telling the truth; he had interrogated many a man and knew when they were lying.

Morris’s man got out of the van and made a phone call, after several minutes he came back in.

‘This is how it is going to be, you pay us fifty thousand dollars and we will be square.’

‘What? I haven’t got that much money…’

‘Morris said you have until the end of the week and don’t do anything silly like trying to leave we will be watching you and your boat.’

On the way back to town the hatred for his wife grew a hundred times, there was no way he would pay out all that money just because she pissed off with someone else and that idiot of a man couldn’t put Rita and her poncy real estate man onto the right boat; no he would do the job himself that’s the only way he would be sure of her getting what she deserves, someone though had other ideas and Jimmy’s good life was about to change for- ever.

Chapter Four

There were ghosts all around me. As I lay flat, an overwhelming feeling of panic and vulnerability surged from my gut, the ‘ghosts’ gabbled over me, one of them jabbed me with some sort of small sharp weapon, I fought back but there were too many of them, I floated away escaping into darkness.

Forcing my eyes open I took in the room; machine’s beeped away beside me, small plastic tubes ran from my arm to a bag that hung on a post. The hospital room was cool and the light was diffused. A man in a white coat was talking to Vic Barnes and Doc Marks.

‘Christ can’t a man sleep in peace without you lot bloody yapping all the time,’ I said hoarsely.

All three turned, the surprise on their faces changing to grins.

‘Well,’ said Barnes coming over and giving my hand a squeeze, ’you took your ’effing
time, lazy bugger.’

Doc Marks was all smiles as he gripped my wrist in the manner to take my pulse.

‘You had us worried,’ he said.

The man in the white coat looked at Marks, ‘how was it?’ He asked.

‘Sorry Doctor,’ he said unabashed.

‘I’m Doctor Shaw,’ he said picking up the same wrist Marks had, ‘better, stronger, you’ll live – for now. You got five minutes, no more,’ he said addressing my two visitors.

Doc and Vic pulled up chairs.

‘How long was I out?’ I asked.

‘Nearly three days,’ Vic Barnes said quietly.

’Holy shit, I said, ‘how did I get here, wherever here is?’

‘Darwin Naval Hospital, I phoned the Prime Minister, got him out of bed, he said how yer doing Vic what can I do for you? I said me mate needs a lift.’

‘To cut out all the bull-shit Charlie,’ Vic barns said, ‘we got picked up by the Zodiac and transported to the Amnesty, the Captain had already phoned for a chopper. We had to stay on the patrol boat until we were in range of the helicopter.’

‘Angelo, Al, and Jimbo stayed with the yacht,’ Doc said; standing as the doctor came back in. ‘Lovell’s girlfriend got a ride home with you ’

They were ready to go when Marks said, ‘the rest have been in and say good luck – and see you when we see you.’

They shook hands and waved goodbye at the door.

I had this odd feeling there was something final about their leaving.

Lying back on the pillow I waved to the doctor to sit.

‘Doctor I’ve been bitten before and never had this type of reaction, yes I’ve had pain and vomiting but nothing as severe as this; why?’

’My names Philip and to answer your question we are not a hundred percent sure. Tell me how you came to be bitten and if you could describe the ‘bites’ it may help.’ He smiled at his little joke.

I began from when the shooting started, careful not to tell him where or why we were there.

‘This root you were hanging on to, could you see what kind of tree it was?’

I shook my head, ‘no it was dark; why do you ask?’

‘The doctor on the Patrol Boat did an odd thing, and just as well he did, he swabbed the back of your hand and put the sample in a sealed vial and sent back with you He said your hand was badly swollen, like a bunch of bananas was how he put it.’

‘And you tested the sample?’

‘We did; there were several possibilities as to why you had this reaction, one, the two venoms were just too much for your body to cope with, but we don’t think it would be that drastic, so we checked out the sample.’

‘Blood test?’

‘I’m getting to that; another possibility was either the snake or the spider was very rare and the general serum didn’t cover that species, or they were a completely unknown to us. I suppose it’s no good me asking where you were.’

I smiled, ‘north of here.’

He nodded, understanding.

‘There’s something else isn’t there?’

‘Yes, it may have something to do with that root you were hanging on to.’

I looked puzzled. ‘Oh,’ I said.

‘I did some research; spoke to some people, it seems that some plant roots have spores and other things that help them to extract minerals from the ground. If the plant had suddenly been exposed at the root…’

‘I see where you going, I could have some type of fungus on my hand when I was bitten.’

Philip beamed, ‘that’s exactly what it was, some sort of fungus or spoors, whether it came from the tree or not we are not sure. Our lab technicians found it on the swab and when we looked at where you were bitten and took more samples we found it there as well, because your hand was so swollen the puncture wounds were protruding so to speak.’

‘So you think that was the cause?’

’Mr Kapps we are only guessing. We are trying to find answers using the limited samples we have.’ he stood. ‘Now get some rest,’ he said leaving.

I called out to him, ’will there be any lasting effects?

Standing in the door way he said with a wry smile, ‘you may fall down and shed your clothes occasionally, but that’s all.’

‘Oh that’s all right then, I can still do that.’

He laughed and disappeared into the corridor, I lay back.

I closed my eyes but my mind was too busy to sleep. The way Vic and Doc said goodbye had me thinking about my future. I wasn’t to know, couldn’t in my wildest dreams guess what the future was about to bestow on me. Opening the draw in the bedside cabinet I took out my watch and put it on; it read three minutes to one.

Hunger probably woke me; not having had a meal in three days will do that to you. A pretty nurse came in.

’‘Ah, awake at last I suppose you are hungry, would you like a coffee?’

‘Oh yes, I’m gasping for one, hang on is it hospital coffee?’ At the door she turned and smiled, ’I’ll see what I can do; you’ve got a visitor.

I looked at my watch, nearly three o’clock.

My visitor walked in, well, well, I thought, Mohamed’s come to the mountain.

He was in his middle fifties, six feet, fit, with grey short hair over his open face and was wearing a white shirt over his fawn shorts and sandals; nobody in their right mind wears a suit and tie in Darwin.

Mister Kapps., he said gently shaking my hand. Before releasing it he studied the faded bite marks.

‘It’s Charlie,’ I said as he let go.

He nodded, ‘George.’

Lieutenant Colonel George Maitland retired, if you can believe that, my boss, runs the covert operations unit; we couldn’t have a better man. George is a hands on boss who knows what the men need and what they experience doing the job.

‘You are giving me the sack George?’ I said bluntly.

‘Yes,’ he said, equally as blunt. ‘Well that depends on you,’ he sat. There was a brief pause then he said.

‘I’ve been speaking to the Doctors, seems you have them baffled.’

I nodded, not interrupting having a good idea what he was going to say.

‘It’s their opinion that no harm will be done, might give you some immunization, whether it can or not,’ he shrugged.

‘I understand what you are saying George, you want to get rid of me - liability, that sort of thing.’

’‘Er no, not quite that, when you came back from the op’o we were going to promote you to Sargent, but another offer so to speak was made.’ He sat back in his chair, ‘you want some good news or the good news?’

Well this was a surprise, I was sure the boss was going to put me out to pasture with a pat on the back and an honourable discharge; I made myself more comfortable and tried to relax.

‘You said another offer, like what an instructor or something?’

‘No …’

‘Boss put me out my misery.’

’It’s an offer from somewhere within the- how can I put this; a special branch of a little known Government department and that’s all I can tell you, you will know more if you take the first step…

‘And that is?’

‘A preliminary interview, you will have a talk to someone, then go away and decide what you want to do, that goes both ways of course, they may change their mid.’

‘If I don’t accept I’ll stay where I am with the squad?’

‘Yes of course.’

‘When will this happen?’

‘That depends on you.’

’What do you have in mind?’

‘When you’re ready; health wise.’ George said.

Is this a bit like MI5, or the FBI?’

‘Oh no Charlie, this is deeper than those, you would appear to be doing body guard duties, security, investigating the odd drug supplier, innocent things like that, but in all truth no one but you and your section chief knows what you are really doing and sometimes even he doesn’t know what you are doing.’

‘But I would sometimes work undercover and in the removable business, meaning, eradicate unwanted person of little consequence, bad buggers, sort of pest control.’

Maitland smiled, ‘not knowing anything about this group I’m only guessing you understand – but I couldn’t have put it better.’

As long as I have a say in the matter; like when, where and who., I won’t do anybody I think doesn’t deserve it, I thought – shit don’t be so naive Charlie, since when have you had a say in what you do, you’re given a job and you do it, no questions asked.

‘If you have any more questions you had better take it up with who-ever when you have the meeting.’ The nurse came in with the coffee, Maitland stood; ever the gentleman. After she had gone he said, ‘Charlie you have a lot of leave owning you, think it over, but don’t leave it to long, give it a fortnight and if you decide you want to give it a try ring this number,’ he handed me a card, ‘they will put you through to the right person.’

He gently shook my hand.

‘If you should take it, I probably won’t see you again.’

‘George you didn’t come all this way …’

‘No, no, I was up here on a working trip, so to speak.’

He wished me well and left.

I was savouring my coffee when the nurse walked in with a tray.

‘Hope you are hungry,’ she said putting the tray on my lap.

‘It’s not the best, but the fish is fresh,’ she smiled at me; it was Barramundi with salad and it looked and smellled delicious.

She unfolded a paper napkin and put it on my chest’

‘Is your wife a good cook?’

‘Not married,’ I mumbled through a mouthful of fish.

‘Girlfriend?’

I took notice of her, she was pretty, with short brown hair and a pleasant smile and stood about five foot four; I shook my head, her smile brightened just a tad, or was it my ego.

‘Don’t have the time,’ I said stuffing a piece of limp lettuce into my mouth.

‘Oh,’ she said her smile fading, she appeared to be a pleasant young lady, but as my old dad used to say doesn’t judge a book by its cover. If the circumstances had been different I would probably have taken up her thinly disguised offer, she didn’t know it or did any man, the bar was set to high, the comparison was Morgan, who I realised I hadn’t phoned, she would be waiting, a little nervous, apprehensive at not hearing from me.

We had talked, lying naked in bed holding hands as the fan overhead turned and cooled us down after making love; I had looked sideways at her and thought I was the luckiest man in the world. The conversation came round to me and what I did for a living, I had been waiting for the moment when she would ask. I had rehearsed many different ways to tell her, Morgan was intelligent so she would know all about security and the ‘signing of the act’, she had whispered to me in the darking room to tell her what I could.

‘Are there many married men in the company you keep?’ She asked. ‘A few’ I replied, Then she rolled over into me saying phone me when you can, I don’t remember much after that.

Coming out of the hospital entrance I looked for a public phone to ring her, this being a Navy hospital it may be best to err on the side of caution as calls could monitored, I maybe paranoid but I couldn’t take the chance.

Before I left my hospital bed I had lain remembering how I first met Morgan, it was rather unique to say the least, I couldn’t think of a better or more unique way of getting to know a beautiful lady.

Chapter Five

I was in my hometown of Brisbane cruising along Coronation Drive on my BMW motor-cycle, the river on my right. It was a warm Saturday night and the cafés and restaurants were busy. Young girls and men were taking advantage of the warm balmy weather; times like those seeing couples laughing, holding hands sent a feeling of loneliness through me. To my left I could see the popular street of Park Road, it teemed with people making their way to a favourite eating place or going to meet up with friends. Cars were parked nose to tail adjacent to the sprawling roadside café’s, it was difficult to see where one ended and the other started. Added to the hum and buzz of voices were the cars seeking a place to park, I was glad I had chosen to take my motorbike.

Turning down a side street opposite the festivities I had squeezed into a gap and parked. Taking off my helmet I had looked into a side mirror to check my hair, running my fingers through my wavy brown hair but it didn’t seem to make much difference.I swung my six foot two frame over the saddle and clipped the helmet to the rear frame.

It was a typical late summer night in a pleasant breeze pushed up the street from the river.

I was wearing jeans and pale blue short-sleeved shirt and soft shoes.

Everywhere you looked were parked cars; this was the place to be, lights, the smell of food, the clink of crockery, the laughter of a young girls, there was one on the corner waiting to cross, she would have no trouble I thought any car would stop for her, she was that beautiful. Traffic was crawling through the street, occupants in the cars peering left and right hoping to find parking place.

Standing on the corner waiting for a break in the line of cars, I watched the young woman stop on the other side looking left and right, getting her bearings no doubt, I was right, there was nearly a pile up as the female boldly crossed into the crawling traffic, a group of teenage lads with their windows down began to cheer and whistle at her, she waved her thanks which sent them into more spasms of lust. I was maybe five metres behind her, she was tall wearing a short white frilly skirt and a sleeveless white top, and her shoes were modestly high. She stopped and turned her head, her fair locks moved across her shoulders. Was she looking for her boyfriend, a girl friend or just a group of friends, she had stopped beside a large white SUV.

I was closing in on her when there was a honking and a slamming of doors, looking left, alerted by any unusual noise, a black SUV parked in front of the white SUV she was standing next to, as the woman turned and watched, another black SUV stopped at the rear of the white car. Four men their hands inside dark short windcheaters was a dead giveaway in this hot humid night, all stood on the edge of the pavement. I heard shouts to my right from a large party sitting at two long tables; I was on the young woman before the four men opened fire.

‘Get down,’ I shouted to her, not because she was in line of fire from the invading men but I was pretty sure some of the occupants at the tables would shoot back, I had to man handle her to the ground, on top – for a brief moment, she was trying to shove me away, her angry eyes bore into imine, I rolled her off the kerb between the white 4x4, she momentary stopped struggling when the world above us exploded. The noise was deafening each large pistol mag had at least twelve shots; it wasn’t just the gunfire, it was the screaming, the crash of tables and chairs, plates, cups and patrons adjoining trying to scramble away from the deliberate aimed shooting, bottles of wine crashed to the floor spilling pools of red. What I had feared happened as we hit the road – return fire, it plinked and plunked at the doors and windows above us, I had one elbow on the road the other on the pavement raised so I wasn’t directly on top of her; those beautiful once angry eyes were now wide with fear as I sheltered her from falling glass, a small black rectangular canister clicked down beside me; he was changing magazines, a grunt as the man nearest to us took a bullet falling against the white bonnet, he then slide slowly down landing across my legs, his Glock pistol clattered down within arm’s reach. The other man, too busy shooting, was unaware that I had picked up the gun, he was even less aware when I shot him, the gun fire was such that his two friends at the back of the SUV were also unaware that he had been shot and were about to depart the carnage they had created, I double tapped the nearest, standing so as to get a better aim at the gunman who was about to leave, I shot him too.

The black SUV’s barged their way out of Park Road traffic through red lights and onto the main drag amid the sound of car horns and screeching of tyres.

‘You okay miss?’ I said,, putting out my left hand to help her up, her short skirt was up around her thighs she tried to hold it down and at the same time reach up to me, her soft hand was trembling. Leaning against the bullet riddle door she put her hands up to her face.

‘Oh my god,’ she whispered looking at the devastation before her.

‘Miss it’s best we go, the police are on their way and we will be the subjected to giving statements and maybe our names will be in the papers,’ I was wiping the gun with a serviette that had blown our way.

I was pulling her gently away, she was resisting.

‘If your name gets into the papers…’ I said

It took a second or two before she saw the logic, she was a witness and sometimes they have the habit of turning up dead.

The road was jammed with onlookers and parked cars, off duty medical staff were attending to the wounded as sirens sounded in the distance.

Supporting her around the waist we made a way through a tangle of cars and gawping onlookers. It had happened so quickly I expect some people must have thought there were fireworks on the river

Once on the other side I asked her if she had a car.

As she shook her short fair hair small pieces of glass fell around her shoulders.

‘We have to get away from here,’ I said, we were down the side street where the BMW was parked. I looked back at the chaos, the strung overhead lights showed people fleeing the scene, cars tried to get away from the pavement as customers fled the scene, they ran scared, weeping, to some it couldn’t happen soon enough, tempers flared.

Table’s that once held glasses and bottles of wine now lay amongst coffee cups, plates of food and cutlery. Some were standing stunned, others continued to scream covered in someone else’s blood. Then there were those beneath the tables, some bloodied and wounded others were dead. I could see those on the floor franticly thumbing their mobile phones...

‘I only have a motorbike do you want to…’

She nodded quickly.

’Good because I don’t think much of your chances of getting a taxi,’ I gave her my spare helmet; it had a communication socket allowing rider and passenger to talk to each other.

Taking the bike of its stand I mounted, then giving me her right hand she put a foot on peddle and holding down the front of her dress she swung a shapely leg over and wriggled trying to gain some modesty. I plugged us in and asked her where she wanted to go;

I knew the complex, The River Side Apartments, ’it overlooked the Sunday Markets and had a good view the river. Police sirens were getting louder as we took off. I kept to the back streets it took just a few minutes; she had hung on not saying a word. She dismounted limped a few steps, I noticed her knee and one hand was bleeding slightly. Taking off her helmet I could see she was having a hard time keeping it together; her face was pale, her lips trembled.

‘Would you come in for a drink?’ She hugged herself shaking as if cold, shock was taking hold.

‘Are you sure?’ I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, inviting a stranger into her room; it was obvious she wasn’t thinking straight.

Nodding she turned towards the gated entrance and taking a card from her bag held to a sensor, a small iron gate to our left opened.

‘My names Morgan,’ she said in the lift.

’Charlie, Kapps.’

On the third floor we entered door fourteen; it was a well-furnished room with good views, to the right a beige leather suite consisting of a three-seater settee and two arm chairs, along the walls were bookcases and a cabinet., To the left up one-step, a round dining room table with four chairs. Beyond was a hall that all led into a well-appointed kitchen, to the other side of the room was another hallway with five doors leading off it, three on the left two on the right.

It was the first time I had seen her face clearly and I wasn’t disappointed, her well-shaped lips had a smear of road dirt, her big hazel eyes showed shock and pain.

‘I have to go to the bathroom,’ she said in a deep husky voice, unlike a lot of women today she didn’t talk through her nose in a high squeaky voice, heading for the passage, I heard the word coffee.

Looking at the books people read can often give you an insight into their personality, one area of the bookcase showed textbooks on plants and other botanical reading matter, the rest light romance and some cookbooks, of course if Morgan was renting the place they may not be her books, I went in search of the coffee; hearing the sound of the shower I opened kitchen doors.

Twenty minutes later she came into the lounge and sat at the table, I poured her a cup of coffee; she made no attempt to drink it; just cupped her hands around the cup and stared vacantly into the black liquid

‘Nice place you have here,’ I said trying to make conversation.

‘It’s not mine it belongs to the family, we use it when we need it,’ she said not taking her eyes of the cup.

‘What happened tonight Charlie?’ She spoke in a deep monotone voice, ‘is it a nightmare, and are you for real? I heard a phone I went to answer it, before I could, I’m hit from behind, rolled into the gutter and shot at – and all that noise and screaming,’ her eyes filled with water, she shuddered.

’I’m sorry if I hurt you …’I said.

‘And then the next thing I’m on a bike.’

Her words were beginning to slur.

‘Have you taken anything?’ I looked at her in the white towelling dressing gown her hair wet and tousled from the shower, even minus her makeup she looked great.

‘Two Diazepam and a whisky.’

I wonder where she keeps the whiskey.

‘And I hate whiskey,’ Morgan lifted the cup to her lips.

‘What went on Charlie what happened?’ She said looking at me blinking away the tears, putting down her cup.

‘A gang war I think Morgan.’

‘Those people in the restaurant went there with guns didn’t they, with their family and friends?’

She looked up at me as if suddenly remembering something else.

‘You killed that man, without even thinking about it,’ her face was mixture of awe and anxiety, ‘you’ve done it before haven’t you?’

I didn’t speak, didn’t tell her it was three, I didn’t want to give her any more nightmares; the silence hung heavy and tense

Slowly she calmed the whisky and the tablets kicking in, her shoulders relaxing.

’Of course you have if you hadn’t he would have killed us, we saw his face, I owe you my life, she said limply.

‘I think you should try and get some sleep,’ I said rising.

‘Yes, I think I should try.’

We went to the door.

She put her hand on my arm, ‘thank you,’ I could see she wanted to say more but was having trouble forming the words, ‘will you ring me tomorrow?’ I asked.

Chapter Six

A voice, male, interrupted my thoughts.

‘Mister Kapps I’ve come to check you over, see if you are ready to be discharged,’ it was doctor Philip who had woken me from my daydream.

He went through the process, checking my pulse, heart rate, looked into my eyes, examined my hand, listened to my lungs, then he hung the scope back over his neck.

’Well I wouldn’t have believed you were semi -conscious a few hours ago, ‘quite remarkable.’

I started to put a foot out of bed.

‘Sorry,’ he said pushing my foot back in.

‘But…’ I protested.

‘One more night, I will check you again tomorrow morning. Now rest.’

As soon as the doctor had checked me out, I was out of the hospital and had picked my gear up at the squad room. Picking the lock on Vic Barnes locker I put my rifle and a small parcel of pistols inside, he would get them delivered to a post office in Enoggera Barracks, Brisbane where I could pick them up when I was in the area.

I booked a flight to Brisbane and got a taxi to Darwin Airport, then I phoned Morgan; we had been dating for two years now.

A girly voice answered the phone.

’Hallo, Morgan’s Nursery, ‘Jill speaking, can I help you?’

Jill was a cute longhaired blonde with small delicate features and looked entirely out of place among the palms, flowers and other assorted pot plants, but she loved it and Morgan it seemed, was her mentor.

‘It’s Charlie.’

‘Oh hello Charlie, how are you? I’ll get her for you.’

She came to the phone slightly out of breath.

‘Charlie, how are you?’ She always asks me that, never where have you been, what have you been doing. I told her a long time ago I couldn’t give her that information, so she asks how are you, meaning have you been shot or injured in some way.

‘I’m okay sweetheart,’ no sense telling her I had been bitten by a spider and a snake then dusted in spores or whatever they are, she would know that, anything about plants and she has the answer.

We chatted and she told me she was still lecturing at a university two days a week, Morgan Copley was a botanical Science Major, the stress however of that night in Park Road had made her rethink her options. She was happier no doubt with her nursery on the Sunshine coast mountain.

Morgan I‘ve got some holidays owning me, I arrive in Brisbane at six o’clock….’

‘I’ll meet you, give me the flight number…’ she interrupted.

‘No you can’t do that Morgan, remember what we said.’

‘Alright darling, see you at six.’

Before I could protest she had hung up. Trying to keep her a secret was giving me problems. Coming off the plane I saw her, she was the centre of attention, her short dark skirt showing off her lovely legs, the fancy sleeveless blouse being pushed out by those firm breasts, her fair hair, longer now, lay in waves around her neck, every man that passed Morgan, old and young drooled. She could have been a model or an actress; I thought, I could hear whispers of - who’s that and so on

She saw me and rushed forward flinging her arms around me planting those luscious lips on mine, it was like winning the jackpot, I could feel the envious stares around me, and I deserved them.

Heading out to the car park I had another worry, had she driven here in her Ute with ‘Morgan Nursery’s’ on the side.

She was holding my hand, grinning up at me, she said.

‘Looking for the Ute darling?’ She said in an unsuppressed gloating smile.

We stopped at a blue Corolla; beeping the door open we stashed the luggage, then I went to the driver’s door and opened it for her, not because I was a gentleman, but I wanted to see more of those lovely legs – which of course she knew and deliberately flashed them showing a brief glimpse of white briefs.

It took an hour and twenty minutes to get to Morgan’s house and less than thirty seconds to get undressed and onto the bed.

The days passed and I realised I had to make a decision about my future, I talked it over with Morgan, I could see she was a little disappointed that I may be away for unknown periods of time. She reluctantly agreed that I had to work in the field and that I knew best – whatever that was.

I didn’t notice it at first, but every now and then I felt odd, it was something I couldn’t put my finger on as if I had a can of energy drinks; a brief high, a lift sending a wave of energy through me, the odd thing was it only happened when my adrenal gland kick in. It showed itself one day when a dark blue BMW drove into the nursery. Morgan saw it from the office.

I heard her say under her breath ‘Oh, no.’

Jill came bursting through the door.

‘He’s here again.’

Morgan sighed and went to meet the man getting out of the car.

‘What’s going on Jill?’ I asked.

I could see she was debating whether to tell me or not.

‘Morgan said not to tell me, right.’

Jill nodded and looked apprehensively out the office window.

The man was tall wearing jeans and a black cotton top; he wasn’t particularly good looking, but probably thought he was. I know the type; they think they’re gods’ gift to women.

He was well built and was now showing Morgan his, ‘look at me grin’.

‘He’s a pest!’

‘He’s married, came in here once with his wife looking to buy an orchid, he phones and keeps turning up, he grabbed Morgan last week it was lucky I was here; scum bag.’

‘Stay in here Jill, I’m going for a walk.’

‘Can I watch from here?’ She said guessing what was going to happen.

I gave her a smile and went out.

Morgan had turned away from him and was walking back to the path between the shade houses, so interested in Morgan he hadn’t noticed me walking past a line of large potted palms, I reached the end of the line as Morgan passed me; a few steps on she turned on him.

‘If you don’t leave I am going to call the police and…’ She saw me; he was now up close.

‘Why would you do that Morgan darling?’

She held out her hands palms up

‘Keep away.’

Morgan lowered her hands and looked me over his shoulder.

He saw this and turned.

I was trying not to get angry, anger is not a good vibe you tend to make mistakes, lose sight of your intent and rush the job in hand; never the less I could feel the adrenaline rising.

I gave a wink to Morgan; the idea is to make your opponent angry let him make mistakes.

‘What do you want?’ He said belligerently.

‘I’m here to see how you handle rejection; you are not making much impression on the lady are you?’

I gave a brief indication with my head that Morgan should go.

‘I think you should piss off mate and mind your own business.’

‘Doe’s your wife knows you are putting the squeeze on the lady.’

His left hand shot out intending to push me off balance, then I presume follow it up with a right hook.

What happened next was even a surprise to me.

I grabbed his right hand with my left followed up with my right squeezing on the palm facing me and forcing back his hand, his option was to go down on his knees or have me break his wrist and fingers, it’s an old move ’I’ve made many times and expect to do so in the future. Groaning he fell to his knees, I kicked him - not too hard in the stomach, a wheeze and a gasp for air followed, I then twisted his arm hearing a crunch of Cartilage, then he was lying on the ground sucking in air trying to scream in pain; the whole incident had happened so quickly, I had even pulled back on the power so as not to hurt him too much, but there he was, prone and making no effort to rise.

‘Do not come around again, you hear me?’

I went around the back of him and putting my hands under his arms picked him up, to my surprise he wasn’t that heavy, I supported him to his car and left him holding dislocated arm and went back to the office.

‘He’s gone,’ I said, ‘won’t be coming back.’

Jill looked disappointed, ‘I couldn’t see anything,’ she said.

‘Where’s Morgan/?’ I asked.

‘Round the back.’

I found Morgan sitting on a bench strewn with cuttings and potting mix.

‘You okay I asked?’

‘Yes – thanks for sorting that out.’

I gave her a cuddle and she held on tight, stepping back I said.

‘What do you think he weighed?’

She looked at me strangely, ‘that’s an odd thing to ask.’

‘Have a guess,’ I said.

She fiddled with the cuttings trying to work out the reason for the question

‘Ninety kilo’s; perhaps a bit more.’

‘What do you weigh?’

‘You mustn’t ask a ladies age or her weight.’

Then let me guess,’ I said picking her up in my arms.

Now I was surprised, she seemed the same weight as the man I had just picked up.

‘Well,’ she said her arm around my neck.

‘Have you a set of scales?’

‘What are you up to?’

I put her down, ‘have you?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’

Putting my arm around her and kissing her on the cheek I said, ‘indulge me darling.’

She weighted sixty-six kilo’s.

’‘Now you know the last of my personal details…’ She came and snuggled up to me, ‘I demand an explanation, she said sweetly.’

‘Give me time to think about it and we will talk about it tonight, if you are a good girl.’

‘Oh, you like to keep a maiden guessing don’t you?’

I gave her a tap on her behind as she went back to work, she looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows grinning.

I thought of another incident in Brisbane couple of days ago, Morgan had been invited to attend a lecture by an eminent professor and mentioned something about a gene pool in a plant with long Latin name. Oh, I said that sounds interesting, she laughed at my attempted interest.

Wandering around the city trying to kill an hour or two, I found myself near the river so I headed for the botanical gardens.It was a good place to get away from the office for lunch, sit in the shade of an old tree or on of the seats facing the river with sandwiches perhaps and juice. Men in shirts and ties mixed with youths in shorts and tee shirts. From a small hill I watched a ferry go upriver under a bridge, I moved on going down the other side of the slope into an avenue of shady palms; benches were slotted in between backed by flowering gardens, it was a great place to be. It can be called a negative attitude always on the lookout for suspicious behaviour, nine times out of ten the signs are right. Stopping beside a tall palm tree my attention was drawn to a scruffy youth walking towards me about a hundred metres away; what gave him away? Most of the benches had one or two people seated, some couples, others with works friends, this youth wasn’t looking at the pretty girls in their summer dresses and carefully quaffed and coloured hair and meticulously applied make up, no his attention was focused on what lay beside them – handbags. Another thing that gave him away was almost everybody else walked down the centre of the path; he walked passed close to those sitting. As he neared I felt an excited burst of energy travel through me, later in weeks to come I’d liken it to an in body tsunami because that’s what it felt like, a sudden burst of power; I waited, watching him casually cross the path. He was a skinny youth daggy shorts dirty tee shirt and an unshaved appearance. I followed his stare, it was an elderly women seated on a bench alone about twenty metres from where I stood. The woman was neatly dressed wearing a dark hat to keep off the sun and reading a book and nibbling on something small, the bag sat to her left so he would have to be quick, when reaching across her, if she was quick enough would give her a chance to grab at him; as he made the snatch. The woman must have sensed something or heard his run for she looked up from the book, her eyes went wide and she drooped her book and went to grab her bag, the thief chopped her across the wrist with his left hand and snatched the bag with his right; the woman screamed and I moved. He was looking back as he made his getaway, never saw me as he turned his head, but he felt me, felt my elbow smacked into the side of his face. His feet skidded from beneath him and he crashed to the floor grunting, in one swift movement I had lifted, turned him on his stomach; with his right hand and my knee in his back he wasn’t going nowhere.

‘I’ve phoned the cops,’ a voice said above me.

‘That was quick,’ I said looking up seeing a man in his early twenties bending over.

‘I knew he was going to do it,’ the young man said, sounding pleased with himself, ‘I was following him,’ he laughed, ‘shit what a dong.’

I didn’t ask him what a dong was. The lad beneath me struggled in vain to escape, every time he tried I hurt him more, he got the message and lay still.

‘Stand back please.’

I heard the squeal of bike tyres on gravel and looking up saw two policemen on bicycles dismounting, flicking off their helmets they stood over me. I grabbed the thief by the shirt collar and lifted him up; he seemed to be about the weight of a bag of groceries.As I explained the situation one of the policemen was phoning for a wagon.

The cops handcuffed him and put him on his knees, all the time the woman was protesting; ’It’s just not right, you cannot sit in a park without being attacked nowadays, he stole my bag she said pointing at the ragged form on the ground.

‘Someone else is stealing something else of yours,’ I said pointing at the bench behind her, everyone laughed; a large crow was shaking what looked like a half a sandwich from a paper bag.

One of the policemen took me aside and asked for my name and address, I produced my Special Forces ID card telling him that was classified.

‘Okay mate, I’ve got a couple of witnesses, not that anything much will happen to him…’

‘Just a slap on the wrist and be a good boy.’

‘That’s about it,’ he said snapping shut his notebook.

After giving Morgan’s admirer the boot I helped out in the nursery, we closed up as the sun disappeared over the trees and the mountain grew dark

Showering we had dinner then had an early night, making love and giggling like a couple of teenagers, we showered again and lay naked on the bed. Morgan planted her left breast on my chest put her head on my shoulder.

‘It will start to get cool soon,’ she murmured.

‘Mm,’ I sighed contentedly.

Ever a woman she said, ‘what did you want to talk about honey?’

How could any man concentrate with Morgan half sprawled over you I don’t know? She made it worse by moving her leg over mine; I could feel her soft down against my thigh, I looked down the curve of her back and the rise of her smooth behind.

‘Darling,’ she was saying placing her finger on my chin gently steering my face to hers, ‘Talk to me or I will get under the covers.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ I said aghast and shocked that she be so cruel.

Relenting I contemplated what and how much to tell her.

‘What do you know about fungi?’ A silly question really considering she was a Biologist.

‘Mycorrhiza,’ she said rising on one elbow. I wish she wouldn’t do that.

‘Micro- whatsit.’

‘It’s Latin.’

‘I know it’s Latin darling, what’s it all mean?’

’The word actually means ‘mutually dependant’ the tree or plant that the fungi lives on are dependent on each other – mostly, there are others that rely on nature to survive – grow on the ground on trees and get their enrichment from partials in the air or small debris washed down from the bark of trees and soil, there are thousands of different species.’

‘How many?’ But she went on.

‘The fungi or spoors beneath the soil help the plant to convert the minerals in the earth to fertilize , not all fungi do that, some are dangerous – magic mushrooms for example.’’

‘And in return the plant doesn’t charge rent.’

Morgan sat up laughing; I watched the jiggling of her breasts.

‘Something like that; why do you ask? Not thinking of retiring and becoming a gardener are we?’

‘No,’ I said refocusing, ‘can this fungus be harmful to humans?’

’Some, ‘I don’t know the actual species, there are so many of them that you cannot say a definite no.’

’How many is thousands?

In Australia alone there are 250,000’

‘Christ.’

‘Charlie, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

I blurted it out, ‘I was bitten.’

‘By a fungi?’

I put on my best gay voice and simpered.

‘Oh yes,’ I waved a limp wrist, ‘he was such a fun guy.’

She fell over laughing, suddenly jumping off the bed and fled to the toilet; I heard it flush. Morgan came back wearing my pyjama jacket and a pair of briefs.’

She sighed happily and sat cross-legged.

‘What bit you Charlie?’

‘A spider - then a snake.’

‘What?’

‘I was hanging about on a tree root, when this spider jumped on my hand; I tried to reposition myself because I was slipping when he bit me, the snake; must have seen him and fancied him for tea, he struck, the spider jumped and the snake bit me in the same place the spider had.’

‘Oh my god,’ she said putting her hand to her mouth.

’What happened? Did it hurt; was it painful?God Charlie why didn’t you tell me - bitten twice, I mean what happened to you? ’

‘We had our own medic with us; he bound my arm and gave me a shot of serum, I have to admit it happened pretty quickly. My hand swelled up, followed by nausea and pain, especially around the head and eyes; ten minutes later I could hardly stand.’

‘I know I can’t ask where you where, but, did you manage to get to a hospital?’

‘Yeah they swabbed the back of my hand to try and find out what had bitten me,’ I decided it best if I left out the patrol boat and the part where I had a nap for a few days.

`‘Wait - what has fungus to do with this?’

‘I was just coming to that. When they took a swab of the bite they found venom of course and also found some sort of tiny spoors.’

There was a long silence while Morgan digested the information.

She broke the silence speaking quietly.

‘I know you are not telling me everything and because you asked me about the fungi I suspect you have more questions; is there something bothering you, something you’re not telling me’ has it affected you in some way?’

Morgan moved closer and held my hand, ‘what is it?’

‘Promise you won’t laugh – too much.’

She shook her head.

Morgan sat and listened without comment until I had finished speaking.

‘Do you think I’m a little crazy?’

’Yes of course, anyone who hangs from a tree root and gets bitten by both a snake and a spider is, that’s either unlucky or lucky, depends on your point of view; crazy – a bit maybe, you have to decide if it’s a benefit or a hindrance.’’

‘Well thank you, madam.’

‘Seriously though, if you have noticed something different, then there must be, we should do some experiments.’

‘I’ve been there done that and I can still only find one reason for it. You know when I put your admirer back in the car, well he didn’t seem that heavy, and that’s why I asked you about your weight.’

‘Yes I did wonder about that, but let me say this, people who sometimes find themselves under stress in certain dangerous situations or facing a task of lifting a heavy object tell themselves it‘s going to be heavy so they psyche themselves up, often experience a bust of strength or energy, it’s the adrenaline kicking in, giving you a timely boost and when you pick up the object or do the task it seems easier than first thought.’

‘So what did you deduce by asking about my weight.’

‘That you had put some on’

She flung herself at me, ‘you cheeky bugger.’

I let her pin me down holding my arms above my head and sitting astride my chest.’

‘Speak or I’ll get off,’ Morgan said grinning.

‘That’s plain psychological torture that is.’

‘Actually it’s not; it’s physically un-torture. Come on talk to me,’ she said wriggling on my chest.

‘You have such a way with words, okay I’ll tell, but it may take some time.’

‘You have two minutes or I’ll get off’

’Now don’t get upset, but after lifting him, you felt - normal, I picked him up easily and really I didn’t mean to hit him that hard, it just happened.

I refrained from telling Morgan about my episode in Brisbane and how that young lad reacted when seen seeing how fast I was.

Morgan looked down at me, ‘I still think that it maybe your adrenalin gland doing what it does normally.’

‘Ok, what about this, my job puts me in into all kinds of different and awkward and sometimes dangerous situations and yet I have never performed like I have these last few days.’

‘Well,’ she started to say but was cut off by my cell phone beeping in the bathroom where it had been on charge.

We looked at each other not saying a word; I could see that Morgan was not happy.

She rolled off and I padded to the kitchen.

‘Yes,’ I said, deliberately not saying my name.

‘Is that Mister Kapps?’

‘Who’s asking?’

The voice was that of as man, well-spoken and seemed to carry some authority, but that could just be in his mind.

‘Is that Mister Kapps?’ He said with just a hint of impatience in his voice.

I relented; it was late at night.

‘Yes.’

‘Hang on please.’

I heard a few clicks, and then another voice came on.

’Mister Kapps, this is Jack Lovell.’

That took me by surprise.

‘Minister.’

‘Jack please; look I’m sorry to ring you so late at night, but you are a hard man to get in touch with. I’m ringing to see how you are and to say thank you.’

‘That’s okay Jack.’ we chatted on for about five minutes, then he said.

’ ‘About this job George offered you, will you take it, because if you didn’t we will have to put someone in less capable yourself.’

‘Can you tell me more about it Jack?’

‘Not on the mobile phone I can’t but I’ll phone someone who can, give me your number there and we’ll get back to you.’

I paused thinking about it.

‘It’s a secure line Charlie,’ he said, ‘no one will be able to track this call.’

He meant once we were on the landline. I gave him Morgan’s number.

She was standing in the doorway leaning on the door jamb arms folded; the look on her face told me everything.

I took her in my arms.

‘Are you going away again?’ She whispered in my ear.

‘I’ve been offered a new job, seems they can’t trust me within a group.’

‘What does that mean, a new job, here in Queensland, somewhere near?’

‘I honestly…’ The phone cut me off.

‘Hallo.’

‘Charlie, George Maitland.’

‘Hi George,’

‘Jack said you wanted to know about the job.’

‘Yeah if you don’t mind,’ I said.

’’It pays more and you will be working mostly alone. There will be some errands to run (tracking people down) playing hide and seek with some new friends, (going under cover) and occasionally taking out the rubbish (killing people). How does that sound?’

‘Do I get a hat with sanitary worker written on it?’

‘When you ring back and accept the job I’ll see what I can do, I’ might even throw in a cloak and dagger, be hearing from you Charlie, but no later than Friday, okay.’

He rang off before I could answer; I have two day to make up my mind, nay phone told me that I had a text message’ it was an address.

‘I have until Friday,’ I said reading the question on her face.

‘I don’t mind if you go Charlie,’ she said quietly, ‘as long as it’s not too long between visits.’

I felt uncomfortable, was she implying that I was using her.

‘I don’t know what to say Morgan; I hate being away from you, the job I do has a used by shelf life’’

‘You mean until you get killed or maimed.’

‘At one time it didn’t seem so important, coming back, to no one; now I have and any way I’m out of the firing line now so to speak.’

‘’Out of the deep fast lane and into the slow do you mean.’

’No the job I do now takes me overseas a lot, in a military situation, if anything it’s more dangerous than the job I have been offered.

‘Sorry…’

’No need to be, I love you more saying that, I will understand if you find someone safe and boring – if I take the job that is, I will understand, I’ll kill the bastard, but I will understand.’

Morgan gave me one of those smiles I love.

‘Well you are getting old now, so I suppose you a limited shelf time.’

She ducked into the kitchen before she had finished talking as I moved after her

‘Old eh,’ I said, cornering in the kitchen, ‘we’ll see who’s old.’

Morgan gave a small scream and put herself between me and the table’

‘I’m going to rip your off your knickers - and give them back to you, then I’ll let you spank me,’ I said leaning over the table.

She leant back out of reach, ‘oh forsooth I do not deserve such an honour, I must decline your offer,’ she put on a falsetto voice.

‘Oh, oh really, well in that case,’ giving up trying to out act her.

I growled again trying for an Oscar and watched her flee on tiptoes and flounce into the bedroom.

‘Oh you beast,’ she said falling in the bed.

‘I’m upon you woman,’ I cried, she ‘turned over and flung her arms about me laughing, I love you,’ I whispered in her ear.

‘I am letting you caress me like this because I know you cannot do it again so soon, it happens to men as they get older,’ she stroked my face, ‘poor darling.’

An hour later after another shower and a cup of coffee, I reached out across the table and took her hand.

‘Morgan, I have some things to ask of you if I take this job.’

I set it out for her, the why’s and the where fore’s.

‘Isn’t that a bit over the top Charlie?’

‘It might sound that way, but it makes me feel better if you will do as I ask – anyway it’s better to be safe than sorry.’

I kissed Morgan goodbye and hugged her tightly.

‘I’ll see you soon,’ I said.

I saw Jill standing a few metres back, I waved her to come over, we kissed and hugged and then I said to them both.

’It’s important what I asked you to do, it’s for your safety as well as mine and I’m sorry to put you both in this position.

It was seven o’clock on Sunday morning, I told Morgan that I would go and stay overnight in the city, but she wouldn’t have a bar of it, she and Jill would drive me down early Sunday morning. I kept the BMW motorbike in a lock up in Brisbane, it had full panniers with a bag strapped across the top.

I hoped to arrive in Sydney late that night or if I stopped overnight early the next morning. I waved them goodbye and made for the Gold Coast highway and south. I arrived in Sydney earlier than I expected and booked into a motel.

Chapter Seven

The address was a tall building of stone and glass. The office I sought was on the second floor, all six-lift doors sat in a narrow corridor, three on each side.

The government pseudonym was Marley Enterprises

Making my way to a curved wooden reception desk that sat in an expensive marble tiled reception area, I told a man in a dark suit and white shirt my name and appointment time, while he tapped keys on a laptop I looked around, there was another man similarly attired talking to a plump woman in a green outfit, he waved his hand in the direction she should go. She passed me and went back to the lifts.

’Could I see some identification sir? The man was saying.

‘How about the number on my arse, will that do?’

Without missing a beat he said ‘If you could drop your trousers sir, we’ll see what we can do.’

I liked this man.

I handed over my driving licence, a credit card and my Special Services card. There are very few people who have ever seen one of these; I presume he was one of them. He looked at me then at the card. I noticed a slight change in his demeanour but I didn’t have time to dwell on it as he passed back my ID’s.

‘Go through that door over there sir,’ he said pointing to a door in the far wall at the base of the elegant wooden staircase. Stopping a metre from it I turned back to him, I know how the game is played, there was just a hint of a smile as he reached below the counter and pushed the switch unlocking the door then he picked up a phone, I went through into a three-metre wide corridor and turned right. There were two men sitting at two small desks one either side of a glass partition, in the wall at ceiling height sat a two-metre wide metal detector.

The man on this side stood and came around his desk, before he could speak I handed him my papers. Going back around the desk he tapped away at his computer, giving them back to me he said, ‘stand there.’

The man on the other side was standing ready with his magic wand; it was like going through the airport scanner.

The buzzer sounded as I went through, I emptied my pockets and took of my watch, then I was scanned for explosives.

Waved through I walked the softly lit corridor; a man came out of a door to my right.

‘Mister Kapps this way please,’ he turned on his heel and walked to the end of the passageway, indicating to a door to his left, ‘John Durham’s office,’ he said, at the end, ‘Technical and Electronic aids’.

We turned right and took the first door on the left.

It was about the size of a doctor’s waiting room, against the far wall stood two chairs, a small cheap low table, no magazines, the only other thing was a small black box fixed to the top with a red button and a Card swipe slot. On either side of the room was a door.

‘That’s Grahame’s office,’ he said pointing to the door on the left.

He nodded goodbye and at the door said.

‘Press the button and take a seat.’

I did so scanning the room for the cameras; I found them. Five minutes later the door opened and a man wearing grey trousers, white shirt undone at the collar and sleeves rolled up beckoned me in.

It wasn’t an executive office, it was a Government office, barley serviceable and cheap, I was in no doubt what they save here would be spent on civil servants higher up the chain. He introduced himself.

‘Graham – Grahame Grahame,’ he waited for me to comment, I expected he had heard it many times, having done some research I remained silent.

I find it best to do this; it has the effect that the other person is somewhat inclined to carry on talking.

‘Parents a little odd,’ he said by way of explanation.

‘Well Charlie, you don’t mind me calling…’

‘It’s my name,’ I said cutting him off, ‘odd parents.’

He gave a small chuckle.

‘Well it’s good to have you on board so to speak.’

He went on to tell me about the ‘working group,’ as he called it and that it was a splinter group, an offshoot of ASIO. We chatted for about twenty minutes, him telling me there will be a period of training to get to know certain procedures.

’When you leave here I’ll have you escorted to have tour photo taken and a security card made up, this will be a temporary measure until you have finished the training. When finished, if your assessment is satisfactory, the ID will be digitised with a special unseen code. Have you a favourite weapon? Can we supply you with one?’

‘Mine are being posted to a private post-box.’

The rest of the day was spent being photographed and having a brief medical; I passed.

The following day was full on, learning about procedures, special codes, phone numbers to ring in case of this and that happening, we were grilled on these numbers over and over, nothing was written down, strangely once I had the numbers and procedures down and repeated them three times to myself - I remembered them; the instructor made no comment on this.The next day was a Wednesday and it entailed a different matter, this was something I knew a lot about – weapons. After about ten minutes the gunsmith dismissed me, ‘go to room 14,’ he said, ‘I can’t teach you anything.’

Room fourteen was a completely different matter; it seems that I had jumped a few lessons my past employment having trained me in most of today’s learning.

The man was late.

‘Didn’t expect you so soon,’ he said by way of an excuse, he was in his fifties and wore a grey suit and had thinning hair, ‘now,’ he said once we were sitting in small leather arm chairs, ‘more secret stuff, mustn’t write anything down, it’s about what you can do and what you can‘t do, who to go to when you need some cleaning,’ his hands came up and made inverted comma’s, he went on like this for some time, there was nothing I didn’t know we were always having updates in so called protocol, in fact some of the stuff he was telling me had originated from our squads experience, you could say we helped to write the book, or at least update it.

Once again I repeated all the information he imparted to me and was a little put out, because I never once made a mistake and there was no acknowledgement of this, maybe I was getting above myself, wanting the teacher to tell me how good I was, or he was doing things by rote and not really paying attention.

He sat opposite trying to think of some else to tell me when his phone rang, he listened, his eyes flicked up to me several times, he would never make a field officer. Shut off his phone, ‘we are finished,’ he said, ‘you are to go to the gym,’ then he left.

Finding my way to the gym I went in and was met by Grahame and another man. We were in a large recess that led to the changing room, I could hear grunts and groans and the slapping of a body on a mat, pulling me aside Grahame said, ‘sorry about this I know you haven’t had any lunch yet; I know with your past training you can handle yourself – we have a problem,’ he took me to the edge of the recess and peered around the corner

There was a small group of men going through some sort of martial arts training, the man doing it was perhaps in his forties, close-cropped hair and of a wiry physique. From what I saw he wasn’t teaching them anything just beating them up, I looked at both men puzzled.

‘I’m Phil by the way,’ the stranger said, I nodded.

‘He has recently broken up with his wife, she left him, now he’s taking it out on them.’

‘Take him off the roster until he calms down.’

‘We dare not he might go and bash someone outside.’ Phil said.

‘’So you want me to show him the errors of his ways,’ they both nodded and said, ‘something like that’.

I took off my shirt and shoes and ’socks and took out my phone and padded over to where the brutal training was going on.

Wearing just my jeans I joined the battered and bruised men on a wooden bench, I could feel the rush within me, the boost of whatever it was giving that bit extra.

‘How ya going mate?’ I said to the man next to me, I wondered at that point would there be any physical change in me, not that he would now. I began to play with my phone ignoring the two men on the mat. I heard a scream of pain and the man next to me said oh shit. I felt a thump on the bench; it went quiet.

‘These are so bloody clever aren’t they?’ I said to the man on the other side, ‘the things you can do with these it gob smacking,’ he nudged me and gave a small tilt of his head to the figure standing over me.

I went back to the phone, ‘bloody magic,’ I said.

‘Put that down and get up,’ said the man in front.

‘I’m busy,’ I sad irritably.

He came closer, ‘I won’t tell you again,’ I could smell the sweat and alcohol.

The man beside me whispered, ‘best put it down mate or he’ll hurt you like he does all of us,’ there was a trace of bitterness in his voice.

I looked up briefly and then back to my phone, ‘Oh yeah.’

A bony hand grabbed at the phone, it missed, and I looked up at him.

‘You don’t want to break this mate,’ I said.

‘I’ll break you and that fucking phone, what you are going to do about it,’ he was close, in my face, his mouth level with my forehead, just right. My head smacked him in the mouth, I kicked him hard in the solar plexus as I shifted my weight back to get out of his expected lunge, It didn’t happen.

When he turned back, bleeding from the mouth and trying not to touch his body, I was on the mat waiting for him, ‘ready old timer,’ I said.

On the mat he stood hands clenched his angry eyes narrowed; I could read his thoughts, he wanted to hurt me very much, but the way I was feeling, the surge of energy that coursed through me I doubt he was good enough.

My attention wasn’t just on his leg or arms waiting for him to make a move, I seem to take in his whole persona, so focused it didn’t register until later.

He came at me with a swinging kick, I casually leant back letting it pass making no attempt to attack, he spun, flinging out his right leg this time coming in close hoping his momentum would take him close and he could elbow strike me. I went low kicking both his legs from underneath him and was upon him before he was up, I feinted with my left and struck him with a straight right in the face, he staggered back and I made another move feigning this time to kick him, his hands came up as he tried to defend himself and get his feet in position, I went to rapid fire my hands burred as I hit him on body and face, not hard -but how hard were my punches; I had no way of telling so I stopped, there was silence, nobody spoke, no cries of well done no applause, or that will teach him, the men just gathered their towels and gear and filed out.

He pushed a small cardboard box over the desk it was about the size of a cigar box.

‘Your first assignment.’

‘So I’ve passed,’ I said; it was Thursday morning.

‘Of course, before you leave there are some papers to sign.’

‘Hand on bible and all that.’

‘If you like.’

I picked up the box, ‘playing postman,’ I said.

‘A bit more than that Charlie, we have an informant, an Asian chap has been passing us information, a certain group from abroad are smuggling in members of a Hong Kong Drug Cartel.’

‘Shouldn’t…’

He held up his hand, ‘I know what you are going to say that’s it a job for the police or special branch. We are a very small group with a small budget, no one knows about us Charlie. You don’t know how well you were vetted before offering you this post and you were in our sights long before the yacht biasness and got yourself bitten. We can do what the others cannot do, send a message to those who want to corrupt our way of life and benefit from it.’

‘So what’s with the parcel?’

‘He thinks he has been compromised,’ he said ignoring my question.

‘How?’

‘Three weeks ago - he runs an Asian supermarket, the hard word was put on him; protection money.’

‘Maybe they are just putting on the squeeze.’

‘No, they are looking for a free feed; it’s a habit from Hong Kong. The cameras in the shop show they are the subjects we have been watching, there are about six of them, all illegal’s. The department of immigration doesn’t know they exist.’

Sounds a bit like Triads, have you an address?’

‘For them, yes and we cannot tell the other services to help us, once they know they will stick their noses in and we will lose the opportunity to send them a message.’

He’s right of course if they arrest them, that’s if the witnesses are still around had suddenly hadn’t lost their memory, it would alert the gang that we were on to them; not a good idea,, we need to cut the head off not just a finger.

‘Would you like a coffee?’ Grahame Grahame said before I could speak.

I shook my head, ‘so how do you want them shipped back?’ I asked.

He came straight to the point, ‘dead in a box, all six of them, I’m dreaming of course – we will post their ID’s back ’

There was one thing puzzling me.

‘How did your informant find out about these men?’

’ ‘An act of stupidity by one of the men, they came to buy groceries at his shop and as they would in HK the man wanted a discount, Bing Si told them to get fucked, that was when the man rolled down his bottom lip.’

‘He showed him his Triad tattoo!’

‘Yes.’

‘He got his discount then.’

‘Yes.’

There came a knock on the door and a woman in her fifties came in with a tray loaded with cups, milk, sugar and coffee. It smelt good.

‘Just in case you change your mind,’ he nodded to the woman, –thank you Mary.’

When she had gone I said.

‘Do you want them to talk to us,’ I said reaching for the coffee, ‘might be a waste of time.’

‘Yes I have heard they are stubborn little bastards.’

‘I believe we have had some success with some new drugs,’ I knew this; we had used them on unco-operative detainees in Afghanistan. ‘What do you want me to do, have a chat or…’ I could have said kill, murder, execute, do away with. They all mean the same thing I let it hang there between us waiting for his decision.

He interrupted my thoughts by holding up his hand.

. ‘Take them out of the equation, then we will send their IDs home, no point in wasting time what will they tell us; nothing that we don’t already know.’

‘All six of them?’

‘Yes once we apprehend them and check out their tattoo, we will know what gang they belong to, when we know that we will know who their boss is,’ he lookedhard at me, ‘I want to send the gang chiefs a message; don’t fuck with us.’

’You will send them by post of course, or will you hand deliver?

‘Oh yes we have our own – delivery service.’

I sipped my coffee, ‘is this urgent, a priority?’

He just smiled, ‘If they feel inclined to bare their soul to you before you put a stamp on them , all well and good, every scrap of intelligence helps as you well know. By the way I have read your file, it’s very impressive.’

‘What about back up, disposal and the like.’

‘You’ve got it; do you want to visit our small arsenal while you are waiting to pick up your weapon?’

‘Do you think I’ll need it?’

‘You never know, are you a hands on type of man? It’s likely that you will know when you meet them, I think it’s better to be safe than dead, visit the arsenal.’

‘You say there are six of them.’

‘Yes – as far as we know, the sad thing is more are being smuggled in.’

‘There could be more then, or could be less.’

‘Less! How do you come to that conclusion?’

Suddenly I had my doubts about the whole undertaking; I certainly wasn’t impressed with their conclusions.

I tried to keep the dissatisfaction out of my voice; so far this hasn’t actually filled me with confidence.

‘Has your informant seen the tattoos of the other Asians, he could be the only one, tattoo man could just be bunking with his mates, or he could have had that tattoo done here, just to earn a discount or some protection money.’

Grahame lent back in his chair and grinned.

‘I am even more impressed; we are not that silly Charlie. A few days after the incident with the first man, it happened with another, same routine, only this time, the informant had a really good look. In his opinion the lip tattoo was old and when the man had gone he copied down the symbols.’

‘So that’s two, what about the rest? And do you know they are illegal’s ’

‘They have all been photographed; we have cameras fitted in the shop.’ Any more questions Charlie?’

‘Telephone number of the disposal service.’

‘It’s on the back of the card.’

I flipped it over and studied the line of digits.

’Okay, we do know where they live and we have bugged the apartment.

’‘And you weren’t going to tell me this?’

‘Charlie no one can know everything, it’s a strictly need to know business and yes I knew you were getting there with the questions you were asking, so I told you.’

‘What about the ASIO guys couldn’t they handle it.’

‘Yes, but then it becomes a legal operation and we don’t want that do we.’

I smiled at Grahame, ‘and all the operations that ASIO do are legal?’

‘Well most,’ he said waving his hand a little. He pushed over a folder with the details and photos of the Triads.

‘What’s in the parcel,’ I asked.

‘Special disc’s for his cameras; now is there anything else?’

‘How soon do you want this done?’

‘ASAP Charlie and you are restricted to when they come in the shop and be careful the police mustn’t get a whiff on this.’

I wouldn’t have to wait long I thought, once one goes missing others will come looking – best I take a weapon.

I remained silent pushing him to speak. He reached out and touched the coffee jug, it must have been warm enough, picking it up he waved it at me, I shook my head.

As he filled his cup he said,‘most agents would just get on with it,’ he stirred the coffee, ‘but you dig – want to know what is behind it all; I like that, if you had gone about the business and not asked questions by remaining silent I would have been disappointed. By the way I need your tax file number.’

As if he didn’t already have it.

He went up in my estimation knowing the ruse of the silent treatment.

Grahame drank half his coffee then put his cup down.

‘There have been three murders in the last six months, that’s when we were aware of the Triads. The first was a small time drug dealer.’

‘How did he die?’

‘He was badly beaten then given an over dose.’

‘Very apt,’ I said.

‘Yes very; the second, about seven weeks later was a local pimp.’

‘Where did all this take place?’

’Around the Bay-View area, it’s all in the file. Rumour has it that an Asian man wanted a freebee with one of his girls, he was told to piss of, or words to that effect. He was later found in the back of a tradesman’s Ute, covered with a canvas. The man who discovered him was a plumber and had driven to his first job of the day, as he uncovered the corpse half a dozen children were passing on their way to school.’

‘I bet that made their day,’ I said, imagining the small flying fingers over their iPhone’s.

‘Oh it did, you know kids and their mobile phone’s one was on to the papers as soon as he stopped being sick; the corpse was cut up pretty bad.’

I smiled that I had beaten him to the thought

‘And the third?’

‘A young Asian girl, seventeen, looked about twelve, she was found in the bay a few days after she had been reported missing, she had been brutally bashed and raped. We found three types of semen and have the DNA on file; we are just waiting for a match.’

I am going to enjoy this assignment.

‘You have no concrete evidence that any of these illegals did it have you?’

‘On the contrary,’ he gave a self-satisfying smile.

‘We had them on tape boasting about it, this wasn’t until after the last murder, this is one of the reasons we want them gone.’

‘Let me get this straight, you don’t want the authorities to know who killed the girl, what about the parents don’t they deserve to know who murdered their daughter and get justice for her.’

Grahame looked a little put out.

‘Of course, any parent would, but the poor girl didn’t have any parents, they took their own lives two years ago. The father was dying of congenital heart disease, the mother of breast cancer.’

‘Struth, was the daughter staying with relatives?’

‘No, she was in a woman’s shelter; she was going to be moved with another girl to a council flat…’ He held out his hands, ‘but!’

The lives of some people are just too hard to comprehend, their misery and pain. I felt very sad for the young girl.

I nodded. ‘Where’s the armoury?’

Chapter Eight

They found me a small flat on the Bayview Road not far from where the targets were staying; I declined the use of a vehicle preferring to use my motorbike. Riding around the leafy suburb for an hour to get a feeling for the area. I passed the Asian Supermarket first time round, the second time around I stopped and parked the BMW.

The small group of shops lay back from the road giving parking space for about sixty cars; again I wandered around checking entrances and exits.

Most of the shops had delivery bays at the rear then taking the small parcel out of the pannier I went to the shop that lay at the far end, next to a chemist.

It was the usual Asian small supermarket smelling of herbs and spices, aisles were crowded with packets of assorted curry powders, jars of ready to go sauces, woks and a variety of noddles. The large see-through freezers held strange looking shrink rapped food and large pieces of dried fish and some strange looking vegies. There were also weird looking deserts, bamboo shoots and other odd Chinese tinned food; it reminded me of my previous undercover journeys into Asia.

A slim young Chinese girl wearing a bright tight fitting dress and a big smile was serving an elderly couple; the woman was asking advice on how to cook Tom Yum soup.I continued my walk up the narrow aisles squeezing occasionally between large Australians and small Chinese. I heard from the departing couple soon to be tasting Tom Yum soup, ‘see I told you,’ the man was saying, the woman squeaked back, ‘no you said…’ the door closed.

Behind the girl at the counter was a curtained doorway; at the far left corner of the shop was another door probably a storeroom or a rest area, or both. The man I was looking for was named Brian Lee, my password to him was and ‘I have a parcel from Uncle George’.

It turned out that Brian was out and would be back in ten minutes. I went in search of a public phone and having found one phoned Morgan; Jill answered.

‘Can I speak to Morgan please?’

‘Who’s speaking?’

‘Charlie.’

‘Oh hallo Charlie, I’ll get her.’

After a few seconds a breathless voice said, ‘hallo is that you darling Eric, how are you…’

‘Bitch,’ I said smiling.

‘Did you miss me?’

‘Of course Joan, and you?’

I heard her laugh then she said.

‘Not really, I’m just too busy fighting off admirers.’

We chatted for a while until I saw Brian Lee go into his shop.

‘Got to go Morgan, duty calls.’

It was late in the afternoon and the shop was busy from people coming home from work. I casually walked the aisles again, seeing things I hadn’t seen before. Waiting for the customers to go,

The young chines girl was tiding up the counter.

‘When do you close?’ I asked.

‘It’s early tonight; in about half an hour usually it’s about seven o’clock; can I help you with anything?’

Lee was serving a customer a metre away.

‘I’d like to have a word with Brian when he is finished.’

I busied myself examining jars of curry.

‘May I help you?’ An Australian voice said; it was Lee.

Handing him the small parcel I said the password.

For a few seconds he didn’t speak just looked into my eye’s, I looked back unblinking, he broke the stare saying, ’come into my office.’

As we passed the young girl at the counter he said, ‘this is Alice my daughter.’

I took her small slim hand and said ‘Jim.’

A customer banging down her list of groceries interrupted us.

Immediately to the left as we entered the office was a small desk upon which sat a laptop, in the far left corner which wasn’t very far, a sink and some cupboards, opposite another desk with a chair either side, the right hand wall a long bench covered with bits and pieces, tea cups plates some canisters, papers and pamphlets of items sold in the store lay scattered around a security monitor showing different views of the shop.

’’Lee put down the parcel.

‘Are you on your own Jim?’ He said.

‘Yes, but I have backup if I need it.’

He looked me over seeing a six foot two plus man with brown wavy hair and a good physique; checking further looking for some sort of weapon, he didn’t see one. I was wearing jeans and a light coloured shirt.

‘What do you expect to do, on your own?’ there was no trace of accent, nor there should there be, he came to Australia when he was only three years old.

‘They don’t live to far from here do they?’ I said.

‘No, the apartment blocks on the bend just down the road.’

’Has anybody else had a visit from them and I don’t mean the local newsagent, I mean have they been seen or heard of muscling in on ‘other’ businesses.’

‘Oh yes, some local dealers have been beaten up and have been forced to more on, but and this is the odd thing, a new group of dealers have moved in unopposed and there are more drugs on the street.’

‘They are bringing in their own, cornering the market and I bet there is more variety,’ I said.

‘Yeah, some stuff I’ve never heard of and there has been a rise in overdoses and that’s not all, there’s the prostitute’, it seems there has been a lot of local girls moved on and young Asian girls, some from Thailand and China moved in.’ He stopped, remaining silent for a few seconds. ‘This is just the start isn’t it?’ He looked sad and resigned.

‘We won’t stop it all but we can make it difficult for them and if it’s not profitable they will look for other outlets.’

I was tempted to ask how he came to be involved in all this when Alice came in looking worried.

‘Dad he’s here he’s come back.’

Brain looked at the monitor and saw a thickset Chinese man putting goods into a basket.

‘Dad…’ Alice whispered ungently,’ He’s closed the shop.’

‘Alice you stay in here, understand?’ Her father said.

She nodded her lips trembling.

‘Brian, I have to get behind him…’

He closed the door and went to the far end of the bench, bending down he gestured to me putting his hand to the back he pushed across a small panel just big enough for me to get through.

‘It goes through to the store room; just slide the panel.’

I heard a faint whisper from Alice, ‘it gets bigger inside.’

I crawled through and stood up. I have a small LED torch on my key ring; it lit up the passage.

I exited as I entered on my hands and knees.

The storeroom was cluttered with boxes some opened some closed; a wide bench ran along the wall to my left it was covered with packets and small tins with foreign script, directly in front stood two racks of metal shelves loaded with cartons, boxes, small tins and jars, the floor also had been used for storage. The air was pungent with the smell of the Orient you could almost taste it. Climbing over a small pallet still in it plastic wrapping I made for the door.

Triad man was in the last aisle his basket overflowing; waiting until he went to the counter, I followed.

Banging down what he thought to be his free goods he mumbled something in Chinese.

‘You say you want them in a bag,’ Lee said cleverly interpreting his demands; he then began to scan the jars and packets.

The man grew angry and snapped at Brian Lee who said, ‘you don’t want to pay for them?’

The man lunged across the counter grabbing at Lee’s shirt.

‘Having trouble Brian?’ I said quietly.

The man let go and spun around, clearly not liking the situation.

He looked at me but spoke low and menacing to Lee.

‘He asked who this man is.’

’Oh come now, you can speak English Triad man; they wouldn’t send you over if you couldn’t would they, what’s that line – come on make my day – something like that.

His eyes were now mere slits; I could see the signs, a slight movement of his weight, putting of one foot slightly in front of the other.

I felt that strange surge again; a tingling that seems to come from the top of my kidneys meeting the endorphins rushing down from my brain, akin to an injection boosting my power and speed.

I wanted to make him angry, loose control handing me the advantage, smiling I pointed at him.

‘Are you the shit that killed that young girl?’ I too was moving into position.

‘‘Who are you foolish man, are you tired of living?’

‘Yeah it was you weren’t it, make you feel a big man did it? Bet you boasted about it to your mates eh, telling how tough you were.’ I made a silly voice, ‘I killed young girl, I so brave.’

The two metres that had once been between us had now shrunk.

’How much does that come to Brian? I said not taking my eyes of a Triad man.

Brian had stopped scanning, his sole attention now was on what was going on the other side of the counter; he began again.

‘Will that be cash or credit Mister… what is your name?’

He moved fast for a short thick man coming up on his left foot, turning and kicking out aiming for my head with his right.

Instead of going back I moved forward blocking his leg and smashing my right foot into his knee, the timing was beautiful the power perfect, the breaking of bone and cartilage, the scream from the man was loud in the quiet shop, but I hardly noticed as my left fist struck the Triads throat breaking the Trachea.

Grabbing the broken throat I applied the sleeper hold, under my tight gripping hand he was choking, grabbing at my hand and knowing because of his broken knee he couldn’t kick or defend himself, and realising what was going to happen, if he didn’t do something his tour of Aussie would be over. He then tried to punch me, I ducked my head and pushed back sending him off balance, he croaked with pain as his leg buckled. Squeezing harder I could feel the flow of life ebbing, the sleeper hold can turn into a death hold if you forget to count; I wasn’t interested in counting just eliminating.

’Let’s get him into the store room Brian I’ll arrange for a pick up.

Brain Lee was looking distinctly pale and I could see he had reservations about touching the dead Triad.

‘Grab his wrists, I’ll get his legs,’ I said, we then carried him through the crowded gap between the shelves and put him down in the storeroom. We went back to the front of the shop and into the office.

Alice sat back hunched and trembling.

Brian went to her holding her close as she cried into his chest.

‘Alice,’ I said pulling up a chair and sitting close.

‘Is there anywhere you can go for a few weeks, only things…?’

‘NO,’ she pushed away from her father, ‘Dad needs me here.’

‘No he doesn’t you are a liability; while you are here he will worry about you. Alice I can tell you now, things are only going to get worse.’

She stood pushing her long dark hair from her face.

I’m not stupid I know they will come back and look for him,’ she made a sudden movement into the apron she wore, pulling out a bone handle, she pressed and out sprang a blade, ‘I’m ready for them.’ Alice pressed again and the blade slid back, ‘you want me to go dad?’

‘No Alice, but Jim – if that his name, has a point. You are in danger here.’

The discussion ended as someone started banging on the front door.

‘It’s his mate there’s always two.’

’‘Alice, go into the passage and don’t come out until I give you the okay,’ Lee said.

I went to the counter and stood in front of the groceries as if Brian had been interrupted.

‘We’re closed,’ he called out.

The banging grew louder, Lee looked at me; I nodded.

The man that pushed past him was tall and slimmer than his friend; I wondered how he could see his eyes being mere slits.

He spoke harshly to Brian Lee in what I took to be Mandarin; once again Lee translated.

‘You are looking for your friend who came in here.’

Brian had gone behind the counter.

The Chinese stood hands by his side, his eyes scanning the shop.

‘What’s yer name mate?’ I said affably, leaning against the counter, he ignored me saving something to Lee

‘You threaten my daughter you murdering scumbag.’

I got the message.

‘I asked your mate if he killed that young Asian girl,’ he remained stony faced. ‘You know the one they found in the bay,’ I moved taking a step forward.

‘Yer know what he said?’

I knew what he was thinking, who is this stupid low life Australian, how dare he talk to me like that, he just stared at me unblinking, something was wrong his friend could take care of himself, so where is he?

‘Yer don’t know? Well he said he didn’t, but he did kill the drug dealer, he said you killed the young girl.’

I readied myself for his assault, lowering my voice lacing it with hate and disgust.

‘Did you have help? Was she too much for you to handle, did you take it in turns? Wait a minute, you couldn’t get it up and that’s why you killed her.’

’Who are you stupid man? He said jabbing a straight palm at me, ‘because you are a dead…’

Moving as fast as I could I grabbed his flat outstretched hand squeezed and jerked down snapping at least four fingers.

He made a sound between a growl and a groan, having no option as the force on his hand was being pushed back and down, had he not he would have had a broken wrist as well.Kneeling before me, the Triad man made a desperate effort to strike back, there was a fraction of a second between his cry to attack and my kicking him hard in the chest; for that brief second when his heart was registering the blow and trying to get back to normal rhythm, I leapt, my left hand grabbing his chin, my right hand the back of his head and twisted, hearing the snap of his neck break from the spine I let him go, he crumpled lifeless to the floor.

‘Bloody hell,’ Lee was looking over the top of the pile of groceries, I was on a high; the blood was pumping I could almost hear my heart banging away; I stared down at the dead Triad.

Lee came and stood beside me looking down at the corpse, ‘Christ I’m glad you’re’ on my side, at this rate I’ll have to get a bigger store room. Dragging his eyes away he said.

‘I had better get Alice out she’ll be worried.’

‘Okay I’ll move him, then make a call, but first Brian, close the shop and turn off all the lights and don’t answer the door to anyone, except me – and be quiet.’

I dialled from Lee’s phone, a voice said code please.’

After giving him the number I asked for disposal, I had to give another coded number, there were a few clicks on the line then someone said, ‘how many,’ I told him, ’where? I gave the address and saved him asking is there a back entrance.

‘Thirty minutes,’ he said, a man of few words I thought.

I dragged the second dead Triad to the storeroom knocking over bits and pieces in the crowed aisle. Taking a life no matter who whether they deserve it or not, has always been hard for me, I would rather give them the opportunity to change, realise and admit their mistakes, show some sign of remorse, or off killing me, but it doesn’t work that way in reality; for me most of the time it’s kill or be killed. Tonight was one of those times, looking into the eyes of the two men which now lay dead, I could see the coldness in their eyes it was their way to show no fear and to dominate and intimidate those who oppose them, they were cold hard killers and would dispose of me without a second thought.

Laying him down with his mate I searched them. They both carried knives and a wallet, I went through the first man’s leather folder, no personal items were found, but he did have a credit card in the name of Kin Foo and about two thousand dollars; I pocketed the money; the taller and meaner of the two was Peter Woo, he also had a lot of money, I would give the lot to Brian lee. Removing the wallets with a piece of paper towelling, I carried them back to the office and put the wallets into plastic bag.

‘Here’s something for your troubles,’ I split the money between them.

‘I have something to do,’ I said, ‘I’m going to meet someone who’ll take our friends away, then I am going to see if he has another friend outside.’

Going out of the storeroom through the yard I turned right and went through a wide passageway to the front of the small collection of shops, keeping in the shadows I took in the warm humid night, the day had been hot with the welcome threat of storms. From where I stood I could see my bike outside Lee’s shop.

Scanning the car park, I counted six cars dotted about the small car-park. The back door of a dark blue BMW opened, a young slim Chinese man got out and moved toward the shop.

I waited in the shadow between the shops, a few seconds later; he was banging on lee’s glass door. Putting on my best-drunken act I stagged towards the shop lurching from side to side.

‘How yer going mate?’ I slurred.

He barely glanced at me and continued to hammer the glass door.

‘Oi mate,’ I said, shuffling closer, ‘they’re closed can’t you see that, you’re not fucking blind are you.’

He slowly turned and faced me, he was wearing a white shirt and khaki trousers and what looked like some fake Italian shoes, he was doing his best to stay calm and be polite, despite the drunken Australian before him.

‘I believe my friends are inside,’ he said speaking good English.

I rested my hand on the shops plate glass window.

‘Mate there’s no one in there, I saw them go out the back,’ that got his attention.

‘Was one of them short and stocky?’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘Well he was carrying some plastic bags, the tall one with the long hair, he was the one dragging a young Chinese girl behind him, bit of alright she was – took off in a in a dark car.’ Didn’t see me I was having a piss two doors down.’

‘How long ago was this?’

Pushing off the wall I swayed putting on a blank stare, I pretended to rally a bit. ‘What did you say mate?’ I had better not have him hanging around too long he might see his friends being carried away in a van.

He repeated the question.

‘Oh about ten minutes ago – I think.’

He threw me a look of disgust and went back to his car and drove off. Taking my time and still doing my Oscar winning act I went to the back of the shop and waited. Sitting on a plastic crate I thought about Morgan and how much I missed her.

Twenty minutes later an ambulance drove up to the back of the shop, a thick set man dressed in white got out the passenger’s side and came over to me.

‘Who are you?’ He said sharply.

‘I’m agent 99,’ I got nothing but a blank stare.

‘You got another number?’ he asked.

After I recited the number he pointed to the back door of the shop.

‘In there?’

‘Yeah,’ I said standing up and going to the door. The man went back to the ambulance and spoke to the driver who backed up the vehicle.

After tapping a few times on the flaking brown door and announcing myself, Brian Lee opened up.,

The whole exercise took about two minutes

‘See yer Agent Smart,’ the departing pseudo medico said.

I’m off now Brian, keep your head down,’ I gave him a piece of paper with my number on it, ‘in case you need me, keep it to yourself; okay.’’

He looked pale and anxious.

‘I have seen dead men before but not this close, not killed in front of me. It’s a bit unreal.’

We shook hands; I waited until he had closed the door before going to my bike.

Chapter Nine

The ginger haired man had driven past the nursery several times before he thought it was safe, he drove off the bitumen and onto the gravel road. A hundred metres down the dark tree lined road he came to a left-hand bend, he turned right into narrow opening that led to an iron swing gate. The vegetation was close; branches and ferns brushed the car’s paintwork. Turning off his lights and engine he pulled on a pair of thin rubber gloves and a ski mask, he tapped his dark trousers pocket feeling the small LED torch and plastic ties, the man was satisfied that nobody could see the car from the road. He climbed over the gate and turned right. He had scouted out the path during the day, the rainforest so thick he was confident he couldn’t be seen by passing cars. Ginger haired man was pleased he had worn long sleeves it wasn’t only the mosquitoes that wanted a piece of him it was the spiky shrubs and other plants that scratched his arms and legs, some hooked onto his trousers others pieced his shirt, it was worth the effort he told himself. He had planned this night for weeks now, lying in bed he would touch himself and dream. Sometimes the reality of it all would be too much and make him silently relieve himself in the bathroom, all the time thinking of what it would be really like in the flesh, naked. He stopped and listened; he heard a car its tyres throwing up gravel then silence as it hit the bitumen. Looking at his watch he wondered who the driver was and where he was going at two thirty in the morning. Bet he wasn’t going to have as much fun as he was. The night creatures moved unseen around him making feint-rustling noises, here and there the croak of a frog looking for a mate, the hoot of an owl and the clicking of cicadas came from the darkness. The man stepped onto a metre wide strip of mowed lawn that ran alongside a wire chain fence, he had reasoned earlier that if the grass had been cut then there must be a gate, finding it he marked entrance with a strip of white cotton which showed faintly against the dark of the night.

Pushing his way through he found to his right another wire fence, it ran ninety degrees away from the other fence, to his left three metres away was the start of the forest. It was easier now; the cleared ground ran on into the darkness. Looking though the wire to his right he could see the dark shapes of potted plants, palms, fruit trees, ornamental shrubs, smell the fragrance of a dozen or so flowers carried by the slight breeze drifting past him on the clean night air. At the bottom of the wire he could make out more dark shapes of old broken plastic and ceramic pots; not far now he thought. His only worry was getting into the house.

The wire fence ended after about forty metres a small wooden fence now took its place, he stopped looking at the black shapes of a row of houses, only seeing as far as the forth house, the other two out of sight lost in the darkness. He gave his attention to the first house, he took a deep breath and felt a tremble of anticipation pass through him. At the bottom of the steps that led to the two story wooden house he listened; not hearing anything untoward, he went to the screen door, it was locked, taking out a large flick knife he slit the mesh in the diamond shaped metal pattern, it was enough for him to get two fingers in and push over the small lever. When open he grabbed a nearby flowerpot and wedged it open, now one more and he was in. To his surprise the door wasn’t locked; stepping into the kitchen that led into a large dining room he paused listening for any movement, the house was silent. He pulled down the black cap rolling it into a mask, from his left pocket he took a flick knife then went in search of the object of his visit.

He found her asleep, the sheet kicked back, pale light from the far window cast a surreal picture of her nakedness; standing in the doorway he stood transfixed; unable to take his eyes of the scene, it was as though it had been deliberately lit, everything around the bed was in shadow, fading away from the lone figure curled foetus like on the bed, it was as if the figure was floating in space and he was soon to become a part of it.

Taking a step back into the passage where he took out plastic ties and a small round square tinfoil package. He put them on the floor, it was a warm night and he wanted to take off the sky mask but he knew that would be a mistake. Undoing his trousers he dropped them round his ankles, it wasn’t that easy as he was hard, erect. Stepping out of them he picked up the small foil package tore it open and rolled on the condom. With knife in one hand and the ties in the other he walked into the bedroom.

Standing over her half naked he could barely control himself, he pressed the knife and the blade sprang open

She awoke to find a masked monster trying to get on top of her, she started to scream and get away but a hand clamped over her mouth and something sharp was pushed into her neck. Kneeling, legs either side of her the monster said.

‘Shush, do as I say and you won’t get hurt.’

Morgan could feel the small gyrations of his bare thighs as he rubbed himself over her stomach with his crutch.

She felt sick with fear and revulsion, ‘okay don’t hurt me, do it and go,’ the hand muffled her pleading voice.

If she fought he would cut me she thought, but a rising anger took over from the fear and she lashed out with her fist.

The suddenness of it took the rapist by surprise and had to lift his left-hand from her mouth to avoid being hit, it also added to his excitement as she moved beneath him, her left-hand grabbed his knife hand.

‘YOU BASTARD,’ she screamed.

He did the only thing he could do, he tried to head butt her but she moved to her right and he only hit the side of her head; he tried again, she kneed him in the side, he groaned and pressed the knife into her neck, ‘stop or I’ll cut you,’ but Morgan wasn’t going to submit easily, she twisted and writhed beneath him, it put him of balance, his head dropped lower giving Morgan a chance, her teeth snapped onto the black woollen mask and throwing her head back and the rapist in an effort to get away from her teeth threw his head back.

It was unfortunate, not for the man but as he pulled back his black ski mask was torn off.

Morgan shook her head and spat it away, with wide frightened eyes she looked up at her attacker. For a few seconds they both stared at each other.

‘You!’ She said breathlessly.

‘You stupid bitch -why did you have to do that?’

The realisation came over her: now he will have to kill her.

In a last desperate move she clawed at his face feeling her nails scrape at a stubbled skin.

The man turned away his head then swung a fist into her beautiful face.

For a moment the blow stunned her and she feebly tried to fight back, once more he hammered at her face; Morgan’s left hand fell limply from his knife hand, filled with anger and a frustrated sexual desire, he began to batter her unconscious.

On hands and knees the ginger haired man looked down at the beautiful body beneath him and started to weep, inching his way down her body, not looking at the bloody rapidly swelling face he parted her legs and raped her. It wasn’t how he visualised it to be, he wanted her writhing beneath him arousing him to great heights, he wiped away her tears with the back of his hand; it came away bloodied.

After he finished he took in the stunning body suddenly becoming angry, crawling back up the bed he slapped her.

‘Why the fuck did you have to do that?’ His face was contorted with rage, he slapped her again.

‘Look what you are making me do, I didn’t what to kill you, now I have to – stupid bitch,’ his face inches from hers.

Abruptly he sat up still astride her, raising both hands clasping the knife he furiously shook his fists twisting left and right making a low animal growling noise as if blaming Morgan for what he was about to do.

Grasping both fists on high, weeping and angry, he drove the flick knife between Morgan’s stunning breasts; he did it again –and again until he was exhausted.

Still sobbing he eased himself from the bed and stood limp and sweaty, his anger slowly subsiding. Going into the bathroom he cleaned himself and wrapped the condom in a tissue he flushed it down the toilet. Trying not to look at her he pulled the sheet up and covered her face; the swelling on her battered face had stopped and the once beautiful woman was dead. .

Dressed and with ties and knife in his pocket and black cap in hand he hastily made his way back to his car, sitting with the motor unstarted, gripping the wheel in an effort to stop shaking, his stomach heaved and his head began to throb. Staring through the windscreen rocking to and fro he began to moan and babbled incoherently repeating the same words over and over, suddenly he fled the car and vomited into the nearby vegetation.

A minute later he sat in the car depleted of energy; it was time to go. Twisting the inside mirror he checked his appearance, there came a wail of despair as he saw the claw marks on his face.

Chapter Ten

My phone was vibrating as I sat in my small one bedroom apartment eating Chinese take away.

‘Yeah.’ I said.

‘Charlie?’ It sounded like Grahame.

‘Yeah.’

‘Can you come in for a chat tomorrow?’

‘What time?’

‘About eight –okay.’

‘Sure see you then,’ and broke the connection. I could guess what it was about and I still wonder about the viability of it all, what it will accomplish, they will send more Triad agents over; but I guess we have to do something, show some sort of resolve.

As far as we knew there were only four Triads left, there could be more, maybe these guys were just a scouting party – no, ASIO have known about the influx of illegal Asians for some time, maybe I’ll have another chat to Grahame tomorrow.

My phone rang again.

‘Yeah.’

A small quivering voice said, ‘Charlie is that you?’

’Yes, the feeling of dread swept over me, as I held my breath, I felt my heart began to quicken, ‘what is it Jill?’ It was a question I didn’t want to ask.

Two minutes later I did something I haven’t done since I was a child, I sobbed my heart out. Floods of emotions like anger, misery and helplessness, I felt numb unable to take it in, when I did an anger, a rage like I have never experienced filled my head, in all of my training it was drilled into me- do not lose your temper, the reaction of an angry mind makes bad decisions. I sat head in hands trying not to believe, it seemed odd that in my profession I should act like this, I have lost friends, comrades, family but I have never been so affected, perhaps I didn’t know the extent of my love for Morgan, I’m glad I told her the last time we talked.

After sitting for at least twenty minutes planning how to kill the bastard who murdered Morgan, I dismissed the idea and phoned Grahame Grahame.

‘Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry, do they have anybody?’

‘I don’t think so, but I have an idea.’

‘Charlie you are a professional, don’t do anything to compromise the investigation, because if you do I cannot cover for you; you know that don’t you?’’

‘They may have already caught him, I don’t know, there is something you can do for me.’

‘What is it Charlie?’

‘I need their co-operation, the police; I want to know the findings of the forensic team.’

‘I’ll do my best; pull a few strings. There may be questions as to why ASIO is sticking their nose in but I will muddy the waters so to speak.’

‘Thanks boss.’

‘Charlie you hinted that you may know the…’

‘Murderer?’

‘Yes.’

‘I have an idea, but I could be one hundred percent wrong, maybe the results of the crime scene may help.’

‘You are going up tomorrow?’

‘If that’s okay with you?’

‘Yes, yes of course Charlie, I’ll get you on an early flight and arrange for a car. Try not to kill anybody Charlie or upset the locals.’

‘Okay boss and thanks.’

I flew out of Sydney at seven thirty next morning and arrived in Brisbane a few minutes to nine, a man met me and said to hurry as there was a plane waiting to fly me to Coolum airport; he added that it was a commercial flight and a car would be available on arrival.

I arrived at the Nursery at eleven thirty to find the police and press, I parked in the small car park and approach the yellow tape around the house and garden, it was already hot and humid; I could smell the earthy odour of the rainforest. A young stocky constable approached me holding up his hand.

‘Sorry sir you have to leave –now!’

‘I would like to speak to the man in charge,’ I said speaking quietly.

‘Sorry he’s busy and doesn’t have time to talk to the press, a statement…’

‘Constable if you don’t want to go back to traffic gets the man in charge –now, 1 am not the press.’

He hesitated weighing up the situation looking me up and down, he saw a six foot two good-looking man with brown wavy hair dressed in soft shoes light jeans and a dark blue cotton shirt, I was wearing sunglasses.

’What’s your name? ’He said looking up into my face and moving a mike on his shirt pocket.

‘Kapps, tell the man; he knows, I’m expected.’

The constable was at least three inches shorter than me, but that didn’t faze him, he was trained, a policeman.

‘Stay here,’ turning away speaking into the mike, trying to exert some authority.

I walked over to the wire fence and stood in the shade of an overhanging tree. I saw the policeman wave to me on the garden path then go under the house.

Under the house was crowded with men in light blue coveralls packing up bags and cases. Two detectives were talking to a man in a suit; one of the men in overalls was labelling small plastic bags. Although I hardly noticed, it was cooler under the house; I looked around seeing familiar items, a wave of depression and anger swept over me.

He was wearing a white sweat stained shirt, his sleeves turned back over thick forearms and wearing dark trousers; he was holding out his hand.

‘I’m Chief Inspector Saul Morris,’ his grip was firm, my mind was watching the forensics men packing away samples, then I heard him telling me, ’I’m in charge so don’t interfere.’

‘Kapps,’ I responded. The inspector was a little over weight with bushy eyebrows and thin lips and was shorter than me.

‘What’s an ASIO man expect to find here Mr Kapps? And yes I got the message from on high.’

‘I’m not here to get in your way or tell you what to do Inspector, I just want to know what you have found.’

He indicated with his head to follow him and went to a trestle table where a refrigerated water container stood, helping himself he said.

‘What exactly is your interest in this Mister Kapps?’

‘Charlie,’ be nice and I might get the entire picture, I thought.

’Could I see some identification Charlie, we have the press try anything to get a story.

A bit late in asking I thought, as I flipped open my less than honest ID card.

‘Mm,’ he said studying it for a few seconds.

Smiling he said, ‘seen a few ASIO cards, but none with S-S tucked away like yours; Special Service?’ Morris raided an eyebrow.

All he got was a quick smile and a shrug.

‘You didn’t answer my question Charlie.’

‘It’s personal Saul, she was my girlfriend.’

The plastic cup was almost to his lips it came away spilling water.

‘Fucking hell, nobody told me that.’

Morris took me through what they had found we were upstairs in the kitchen, he took me to the bedroom door, saying he couldn’t let me in.

‘You going to be alright with this Charlie it’s not very nice.’

Nodding I told him to carry on.

‘We pretty sure we have traced his movements; we’ll start here and work back, as you see he wedged open the door…’

‘For a quick getaway in case…’ I began to detach myself from all things personnel and concentrate on the facts.

‘Yeah he had thought this out, probably planned it for some time,’ Morris gave me that look that said I’m sorry about this next bit, ‘he dropped his trousers here,’ Indicating to a yellow tape across the hallway, Morris then pointed to marks on the floor put there by the forensic team.

I took a deep breath and asked, ‘have you got a time of death?’

‘Well it was a warm night, but the doctor reckons from around two to four.’

’‘How do you know he dropped his pants here?’

‘Several things, the easement between the back fences of the houses and the rainforest had been cut only the day before.’

‘Leaving a lot of grass cuttings,’ I interjected.

‘There was also a two dollar coin and a five cent piece that must have fallen out of his pocket when he dropped his pants.’

Focus I said to myself, focus.

‘But the best piece of evidence was the condom wrapper; he must have missed it.’

A man in coveralls a white paper mask and carrying a small case came out of the bedroom ducked under the tape and hurried away.

‘We also think he cleaned up the ensuite, it’s had a good going over, we found more debris, dirt and cuttings.’

A picture of Morgan and I frolicking around in the shower and rushing out and jumping on the bed came to mind.

‘Charlie, you with me, you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I managed.

‘You look a bit pale – yeah - well okay. When he was dressed he went out through the kitchen.’

Standing at the garden fence Morris pointed past the nursery to the other wire fence.

‘Do you want to?’ indicating the way he came and do you what to follow.

‘Yes I need to; we walked on through the gap along the forest line and turned left.’

This is where he parked his car.’

There was more yellow tape.

He vomited into the grass just there,’ Morris pointed.

After having a look around and not finding anything useful we walked back to the house along the dirt road.

It was hot, even hotter as we met the bitumen.

‘Do you think we will get any prints of the condom wrapper?’

Morris was feeling the heat and was sweating profusely, ‘I think there is a good chance,’ he said. ‘We think he wore gloves, but may have put it into his pocket before putting them on.’

We reached the overhanging branches of a large tree outside the nursery, I remember Morgan telling me its Latin name and other things about it.

‘Don’t do anything that may jeopardise the investigation Charlie, I reckon I know how you feel, but I want to get this bastard and if the smallest deviation from the letter of the Law, the lawyers will get him off, and we are fucked.’

We shook hands and I drove to the end of the road and turned left and drove up the hill, there’s a debate about the road I’m on, is it a mountain or a hill, well whatever it was Jill’s father had a service station with a shop selling everything, from local fruit to groceries, batteries, and tourist items, it was busy, people buying petrol, having coffee or squeezing the local produce. I parked and went inside not looking forward to the emotional meeting with Jill.

At the fruit counter a women in her thirties was serving.

She saw me looking at her.

’Can I help you? ’She asked flatly.

‘Where’s Jill?’

‘Who’s asking?’

‘I am, where is she?’

‘She’s not well.’

‘Tell her Charlie’s here.’

Charlie!’ She gave me the once over then shouted to a lad putting Avocados on show, ‘Alan takes over here.’

She took me through to the back of the shop and into a small room littered with boxes, plastic containers and a couple of large refrigerators holding bags of ice, opposite there stood a large wooden house encircled by a veranda , it lay back about fifty metres from the shop.

Palms and other exotic plants grew from well-tended gardens.

‘Go up and knock on the door,’ the woman said.

The door was answered by woman in her late fifties or early sixties wearing an apron over a flowered dress, her hair was a wispy grey and piled high, he head came below my chin.

’’Yes?’

‘Can I speak to Jill?’ I braced myself preparing for out pouring of grief.

‘You’re Charlie,’ her voice had softened.

I nodded.

‘Come in Charlie,’ her voice even quieter said, ’go in there I’ll get her.

I went into a large tidy room with dark expensive furniture.

‘She very upset, hasn’t stopped crying.’

‘Are you her mother?’ I asked.

Putting her hand to her mouth she entered the room, ‘oh how rude of me, I’m Doreen,’ her hand was soft and cool, still holding my hand she said. ‘She found poor Morgan, I don’t think she has stopped crying and; well you know, I’m so sorry for your loss,’ her eyes filled with tears, ’I’ll get Jill.

It was only a few seconds then I heard the noise of soft shoes on wooden floor.

She stood in the doorway, her eyes swollen her hair a mess. Jill moved one-step hesitating, undecided, I held out my arms and she ran crying into them, we hugged for a while the room going misty, then we both took a handful of tissues from a box on a coffee table she sat, I sat opposite.

‘Jill I don’t want to know how she looked when you found her, I have other questions.’

Jill nodded her lips tight, then suddenly blurted out. ‘Charlie I’m so sorry it took so long to tell you but they wouldn’t let me back in the house to get your number, I kicked up a fuss and they bought her phone book to me.’

‘That’s okay Jill; I thought it might be something like that.’ I changed the subject.

‘Do you remember the incident with the man at the nursery, the one that was bothering Morgan?’

Jill’s eyes widened, ‘You don’t think…’

I held up my hand, ‘No Jill,’ I didn’t what to give her any ideas; trying to be of help she would run to Morris, Jill wanted this man caught as much as I.

’In such cases there’s a process, they investigate all known associates and friends, you would be surprised how many times the murderer turns out to be a member of the family.’

‘Are you working with the police?’

’No, I know how they work, now what can you tell me about this man.’

She gathered herself taking a deep breath.

’We knew his wife first, she came to the nursery looking for an Orchid – I forget the name now, anyway we had to order it and she came to pick it up with her husband, after that he came back once or twice a week in the pretence of buying something, or he just kept asking Morgan silly questions.

‘Do you have her phone number – the wife?’

‘It’s at the nursery in the office.’

‘We have to think of an excuse to get in, got any?’

Jill thought for a moment, ‘I could say I left something there, something personal.’

‘Like?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘When did it last rain?’

She looked at me, puzzled.

‘Don’t you have to water the plants?’

Chapter Eleven

Morris at first said nothing to our request’; I prompted him.

‘It’s not as if it a crime scene,’ I argued.

‘Okay, but I’ll be watching you, I know you’re up to something, I don’t trust you, especially after I tried to Goggle your name and it came back insufficient clearance or words to that effect.’

‘Thanks Inspector.’

Jill undid the padlock on the gate and we went in.

‘I’ll turn the water on you find that number,’ I said.

I caught up with her in the office, she was sitting in Morgan’s chair crying, I came round the desk and knelt putting my arm around her, she had a piece of paper in her hand she passed it to me.

‘I can smell her perfume Charlie,’ she said, ‘she’s still here.’

‘It won’t always hurt as much as this,’ I said quietly.

Jill nodded sniffed and wiped her face with a tissue, standing in front of her I said.

‘Jill you cannot tell anyone about this,’ I waved the piece of paper, ‘not if you want justice for Morgan and I might just be wrong.’

She looked up at me debating the request, finally saying. Okay – she said she loved you and that you had told her that you loved her,’ she gave a quivering sigh, out of tears – spent.

We finished the watering and locked up.

‘Have you told her brother Inspector?’ I asked.

Morris looked a little put out.

‘Of course we fucking have Mister Kapps; he’ll be here tomorrow sometime.’

‘When will the body be released and has there been any identification.’

‘The brother is doing that; as for releasing the body? Well that’s up to the Coroner, it shouldn’t be too long maybe next week.’

Jill was waiting in the car. As I dropped her off she hugged me and said, ‘thanks for coming, I don’t know why but I feel a little better.’

‘You have my number, ring and tell me when you hear about the funeral.’

Halfway down the hill my phone vibrated. I pulled over.

‘How’s things Charlie?’ Grahame said.

‘It’s a bit early yet the cops were just leaving.’

‘Things are getting a bit awkward here have you any idea when you will be back?’

‘Depends; I’ll be back sooner if you can help.’

‘How?’ There was a note of caution on his voice.

‘I have a telephone number, can you get an address.’

’If I do this Charlie you’re not going to do…

Interrupting him I said I wasn’t going to do anything silly.

‘’I am not risking going to jail for some murdering scumbag,’ I gave him the number.

‘Give me five,’ He said.

Brooloo wasn’t very far, I turned around and twenty minutes later I was driving down the main street, if you could call it that, I asked an elderly man sitting outside a grocery store for directions to Lombard street, he looked bored, probably waiting for his wife who was taking her time in the store, h pointed me in the right direction; I cruised down until I found number sixteen..

It was a pleasant tree lined street with most front gardens well-tended.

The house was brick veneer and a tiled roof. It lay low and flat, a single car garage sat on the right. The garden had several types of palms, an assortment of flowering shrubs and in the shade various potted plants.

Opening the screen door, I knocked on the half wood half glass door, a woman opened it; she was in her early forties wearing a white sleeveless blouse and yellow shorts. I could see unhappiness, which lightened a fraction seeing me, automatically touched her short brown hair into place, music was being played somewhere in the house. Her features had that hard look that only softened when smiled; her eyes were large and her lips small, she was bare footed.

‘Hallo,’ I smiled, ’can I speak to Mister Mullins?

‘Mikes not in, what do you want him for, owe you money does he, or has he been screwing you wife?’

Shit, that struck a blow low in my guts causing me to swallow.

‘Can I come in, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.’

She must have been watching very closely, seen my reaction to the question, standing back she allowed me to enter.

It was one of those ’open plan houses, the kitchen was on the right, the dining room and lounge spreading back to a pair of glass doors.

She waved me to sit, I sat on the sofa, she on a leather recliner.

‘I’m sorry if I was rude, can I get you a drink?’

‘A glass of water please.’

Giving me the glass she said, ‘I’m Sandra.’

She was sitting perched on the edge of the chair; Sandra had nice legs.

‘My names Charlie – where is your husband Sandra.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘When did you see him last?’

Her hands were fisted on her lap.

‘A couple of years ago.’

For a moment I digested what she had said. ‘So he wasn’t here yesterday?’

‘No – I think I would have known, he left me years ago and went to England with his tart.’

I tried a different tack, ‘you have a partner?’ I prompted.

‘No just a brother, who I think you really want to talk to.’

A Brother, now that was a surprise. Having cleared that up I asked.

‘Does he often go away without telling you; you don’t seem very worried?’

‘I don’t care where he is,’ her face had that under lying look of hatred, ‘I’m his sister not his keeper and I did see him- yesterday.’

‘Was it early in the morning, was he packing a bag, in a hurry?’

’Her eyes widened a fraction.

‘Who are you, what’s Mike done?’

‘Do you care about your brother?’

’You didn’t answer my question.’

‘I will in a minute, did he have scratches on his face.’

‘He’s hurt someone hasn’t he? Was it your wife, sister, girl friend?’

I didn’t speak, for nearly a minute, I drained the glass of water and we sat in silence.

‘Do you know where he has gone Sandra?’

‘If you tell me what he has done, I might.’

‘If he had scratches on his face he could be in trouble, it’s a strong possibility the police want to question him, it would help if he came forward and cleared his name, then we can stop wasting time on him and move on.’

She swallowed, ‘it must be pretty bad – what he’s done, who are they, not the police I bet?’

If I tell her the truth it might jar her into telling me what I want to know, it might also turn her the other way.

‘Okay, I work for the government, two nights ago my girlfriend who has a nursery on the mountain, I believe you know her…’

Sandra’s hand went to her mouth, her action stopped me, ’Should always let them talk.’

‘Not Morgan – not that …’ she struggled to find the words her eyes filled with tears, ‘the murder on the television – that was...’

I nodded, couldn’t speak.

Sandra stood hands over her face and staggered out of the room; I heard her sobbing from somewhere in the house.

Walking over to the sliding doors looked out not seeing anything, my mind set on retribution, the anger cleared; I had been trained not to make decisions in that state of mind.

‘He has a place he goes to in Blackbutt; it’s his uncles’ farm house,’ her voice barely audible from another room.

I heard her come in, going to a desk and riffling among some papers, she found what she was looking for and made a note on a piece of paper; she handed it to me.

‘He may be entirely innocent Sandra.’

‘No, no he’s not,’ she wiped her eyes, ‘he woke me when he came in, I knew he had been out chasing some woman, I was about to tell him it had to stop someone will catch up with him...’

She sat in the chair drained of energy.

‘I had never seen him in that state before, his face was scratched his hair was a mess, there was vomit down the front of his shirt and he had completely lost control. I knew he was in trouble when he threw his clothes at me and told me to wash them.’

‘You didn’t.,’ I said quickly.

‘No, they are in a bag in the washing basket; I put a load on but not his.’

‘I have to make a call Sandra.’

‘Charlie I’m sorry about Morgan I liked her; was it very bad.’

I suppose telling her the truth made it easier giving up her brother.

I had the phone in my hand ready.

’It was as bad as it gets Sandra; she was sobbing, ‘I’m sorry, so sorry.’ She said as she ran from the room.

It took me a few minutes to get hold of Morris.

‘Inspector have you got anybody yet?’

‘No, Mister Kapps I’m very busy…’

‘I have someone you should look at.’’

‘What, you have what/’

‘Listen,’…. Ten minutes later I put the phone down, the house was quiet and Sandra had disappeared, so I left without saying goodbye.

I felt better at nailing the bastard, if the evidence was strong, and if by any reason he gets off on a technicality – well I’ll go with my first option and take my chance of getting caught.

I was hungry and mentally tired, deciding to go straight to Coolum airport and try to get a flight to Brisbane and on to Sydney. Parking the car I showed my return ticket at the airline desk and asked if there was a seat on the next flight, I was back in Sydney by eight.

Once back in the apartment I phoned Grahame, a duty officer answered, Grahame had gone home. There wasn’t much I could do so I thought I‘d have a coffee and have an early night, no sooner had I climbed into bed when my phone rang, the caller ID said Morris.

‘Inspector,’ I said.

‘Mister Kapps sorry to ring you this late, I thought you’d want an update on that suggestion you made, it was right on the nail. The prints were a match and we are waiting for the DNA results, which unlike the telly it doesn’t happen overnight, we also recovered his clothes and shoes; they are with forensics. How do you want to play this Charlie?’

Back to Charlie now, ’how do you mean?’

‘You want me to mention your name?’

‘No,’ he bloody well knew that I didn’t, it meant he could take the credit, ‘an anonymous caller should do it.’

He rang off, I guess his superiors will be happy, strutting in front of the media telling them all what a good job they had done,as long as the man goes to jail for a long time and not just for a couple of years, if by any chance a panel of ‘experts’ let him out early – I’ll be waiting.

I went to see Grahame Grahame next morning.

Swiping my card I walked the corridor to his office, I was waylaid by a slim young man in a white shirt, dark suit and tie.

’The director would like to see you Mister Kapps.

John Durham’s office was a grade up from Grahame’s, more bookcases and a better class of furniture.

He was in shirtsleeves, tie undone his hair neatly combed, it all looked a bit staged to me.

He proffered a hand to sit and looked down at some papers on a leather framed blotter.

‘Nasty business Mister Kapps, I hear they caught the man. Mister Kapps –Charlie- this is rather delicate, what I’m about to ask you and I hope you treat it as the highest level of security,’ pausing, he waited for some sort of agreement; It was a silly thing to say we are sworn to secrecy from the very day we start.

‘’That would be difficult Director not knowing what the secret is.’

‘I’m not asking you to kill the Prime Minister Charlie, just to do something for me – okay.’

‘What is it you what me to do?’

‘As I said it’s delicate., I want you to keep an eye on Grahame, let me know if he is up to, anything you think is a bit odd – okay?’

You want me to spy on him?

’Sure, anything that is a bit odd.’

‘Yes you know the things I mean, if you happen to come across some financial oddity something like that. It’s just a security test of sorts; you know a yearly thing –okay.’

‘‘Why me, don’t you have more experienced agents, computer people who could a better job.’

’‘Yes we have them, but you are new here and will see things with an unbiased view.’

I stood, ‘will do boss.’

Instead of going to Grahame’s office I went to the gents and thought about what I’d been asked to do. Security my arse I thought, I wondered what either of them was up to.

‘Charlie come in sit down,’ he sat on the corner of the desk, his shirtsleeves turned up, ‘how are you coping? Do you want any time off?’

‘Only for the funeral.’

I didn’t sit I was at his desk looking for a pad to write on, finding one I and began to write talking at the same time, ‘have you seen the news?’

He watched me with a frown on his face, I handed him the pad and put my finger to my lips.

He read; when did you last sweep the room and I didn’t mean with a brush, he understood.

‘Yes I saw it early this morning; did you have a hand in it all?’ He was filling in, talking for the sake of it while he sorted out the implications of the note.

‘Hey I’ve got something to show you, it’s about that yacht you rescued, it’s in the other room.’

In the passage he said, ‘What the fucks this all about Charlie?’

‘Have you had it swept?’ I asked.

Not saying a word we went to another office, where several girls were working at computers.

He smiled and said hallo to them, then picking up one of the phones he walked out of hearing distance and dialled.

’Jim, Grahame here, have you cleaned in my office lately?’He listened I could tell he wasn’t hearing good news, ‘Jim, I want you to stop what you are doing and do the scan now and keep the results to yourself, understand?’ He waited a few seconds them clicked off.

‘Fancy a coffee Charlie, there’s a café downstairs?’

When seated and waiting for coffee Grahame said.

‘If there’s anything I can do to help Charlie, about having time off just say so.’

Next he asked me about the two Chinese fatalities.

‘Was the outcome warranted?’ He asked.

‘You mean did I have to kill them?’

He was doing my trick of not speaking waiting for the other man to talk, hoping he would divulge some information you could use, I’m a quick learner.

I remained mute; he made the first move, leaning forward elbows on the table, he sat up quickly as the coffee came.

‘This is not a criticism Charlie; I just want to know what happened.’

When I had finished my report I ended up saying.

‘In each case, it was him or me, for some reason they wanted – were determined, even though they would have to kill the Lee’s as well and leave three bodies behind, probably set fire to the shop, to cover up the evidence, it’s in their nature to stamp on anyone who gets in their way so, he had to kill me - all this because in Hong Kong he gets his groceries for free, couldn’t lose face.’

I had given this a lot of thought and came up with several other theories, I didn’t share these them with Grahame preferring to wait; things had suddenly taken a funny turn.

He stirred his drink deliberating.

‘I can see now why a certain person wanted you in the department.’

‘Department? That a posh word for it.’

‘Okay, I think I know why they wanted you dead and were willing to take the chance of murdering the Lee’s as well.’

What did he mean wanted me dead; I was at the shop when the Triad came in, how would he have known about me, coincidence? Nah, I’m not a great believer in that, maybe they are seeking a foot hold in Sydney and any one in their way would be taken out, or they had mistaken me for someone else, duh, how many tall good looking guys can there be.’

He tasted his coffee, ‘I’m going to tell you something and only because you have proved to me I can trust you.’

He still hadn’t said a word about the mike in his office; I was no longer guessing that there was, Grahame’s reaction to the phone call confirmed it.

His phone rang, ‘yeah, we’ll be back in a minute, wait there please,’ he stood and indicated with his head to follow.

‘Is it safe to go back now?’ I asked.’

As he swiped his card he gave me a wry smile and we went to his office.

The man, in his middle twenties, was wearing a blue tee shirt and dark trousers.

Grahame took him aside and they talked, the man left and Grahame sat behind his desk and unlocked a drawer withdrew a beige folder; he opened it and slid it across.

’Six foot two, brown eyes and hair, well built, has a small scar near on his right eyebrow and can handle himself – and is Australian.

‘I would imagine that the description could fit quite a few people,’ I said fingering the small scar near my right eye.

Grahame tapped the photograph, except for the smaller eyes and a once broken nose it could have been me.

Not taking my eyes of the photo I said quietly.

‘And you think they thought it was me, what do they think they know about me, enough to want to kill?’

Grahame looked down at the file.

‘I’ll tell you a story,’ he began, ` only it’s not a story is it Grahame.

‘We had an Australian Policeman in Hong Kong he was helping them with some new technics we had developed concerning a new method of getting finger prints off rough surfaces. He was married to an Asian girl; an occasion arose where the police secured a conviction using the new method.’

’So, you are going to tell me there was an appeal and he got off

‘No Charlie it was worse than that, the young man who was convicted had killed and raped several young girls and when I say young I mean twelve years old.’

I didn’t blink nothing surprises me these days.

‘Didn’t they have other evidence, like DNA or hair samples?’

‘Yes, but his wasn’t on the data base, they had to prove that he was there so that they could question him.’

‘Since when have the Chinse cops been that rigid with the law?’

’They had to get it right Charlie, nailing the son of Dang Foo Fong was a start, he’s one of the biggest Triad Gang leaders on the island.

‘Since when has that stopped the cops?’

’The man wasn’t known to be a Triad leader, not to the public anyway; he was an important business man who gave lots to charity, a pillar of society you might say and he had a great deal of sway, the big clue was when they arrested the man they pulled down his lip – and hey presto the tattoo, I’ll let you read his file and you will understand.

‘The usual murder, drugs and prostitution,’ I said.

‘And more, my informants tell me that he owns about forty percent of the Parliament, he has in fact a finger in every Hong Kong pie and very large pockets.’

’He must have nearly half the government in his pocket, what has this to do with this man?’

‘It was reported to Fong,’ Grahame pointed to the photo, ’that he was responsible for his son’s imprisonment.

I grimaced, ‘Oops that would do it.’

‘And that’s not all – listen and don’t repeat it.’ Then he related to me what had happened.

Chapter Twelve

‘Have a good time tonight Lucy?’ Harry Winters said.

‘It was rather nice.’

‘Did it feel like coming home, you know among all these cousins of yours,’ he joked.

She smiled, ‘I’m an Aussie, idiot,’ she slowed allowing a car to turn into his driveway.

From the passenger seat Harry could see their apartment building nestled into a small hill. The six-story white stucco building faced the sea, a prime location. Because of Hong Kong’s large population land on the island was a precious commodity; many apartments and houses were perched precariously on the sides of hills.Lucy and Harry’s apartment was on the second floor overlooking the sea. They were almost at the top of the steep hill; traffic was light as it usually was in the hills overlooking Hong Long at two in the morning.

‘Nearly there,’ Harry said, ‘tired?’

‘A little.’

The road was winding and narrow, Harry saw Lucy look in her rear mirror.

‘Someone else is having a late night,’ she said as headlights blazed into view behind them.

At last they reached the top, Lucy indicated to turn right and drove down the ramp leading to the underground car park. The headlights slowed as she turned, which she thought was normal, she gave it no further thought as the car stopped at the top of the ramp, Lucy concentrating on the car park entrance, they were half way down the concrete slope when the back window shattered, the sound of gunfire broke the peace of the night.

Harry automatically ducked screaming at his wife to get down, gunfire cracked as steel nine millimetre bullets plunked and pinged at the thin shell around them, two hit Harry one on the thigh the other ricocheted of his collarbone and hitting the roof. The sudden pain made him scream, the car, out of control, lurched to the right smashing into the barrier box, more pain, Harry Winters struggled to push open the door with his right hand he rolled out grimacing with pain, a warm trickle of blood came seeping down his leg and shoulder he didn’t notice concentrating on staying alive. Pulling out his nine-millimetre Glock he moved free of the car, from the back end he saw silhouetted at the top of the ramp against the pale night sky, two figures feet apart both pointing automatic weapons.

For a brief second there was silence as the two ejected spent magazines, that was all Harry needed, Crouching at the rear wheel he sighted his pistol and squeezed the trigger, he saw his target twitch and fall, the other shooter taken by surprise glanced at his accomplice, it was a fatal error, Harry Winters double tapped him he fell head first down the sloping concrete. A man leaned out of the back window of the car and hastily fired two rounds; they went wide, Harry Winters rounds didn’t, they found their mark, he watched the man slump his arm hanging out dropping his gun.

‘Lucy,’ Harry Winters called as he crawled back to the passenger seat.

She lay limp and still over the steering wheel, ‘oh my god no.’

Kneeling on the seat he felt her neck, it was warm and silent.’’

Choking back anger and tears he ran zig -zag back up the slope, a slim Chinese youth was struggling to get into the driver’s seat, Harry Winters his left arm hanging useless, he limped calmly to the front of the car and pointed his Glock at the pale face behind the wheel, the youth sat frozen not believing he was going to die.

Harry Winters pulled the trigger smashing the windscreen, his second shot hit the son of Dang Foo Fong in the throat; he gurgled briefly and died.

‘Harry put the gun down.’

Harry Winters slowly took in the voice and twisted to his left, it was Sargent Peter Li of Hong Kong’s special branch, the Glock slid out of winter’s hand. Li came over and supported him; it was then that the pain and the shock of his wife’s death struck home.

‘The ambulance is here, we’ll take care of your wife.’

He spoke softly with deep compassion.

Harry Winters was pumped with painkillers and had little recollection of the journey to the private hospital; his brain had administered its own pain killer. He awoke to find a man beside the bed reading the paper.

‘You’ve made headlines Harry, especially killing two sons of Fong; how does your head feel?’

‘Okay, I’ve felt better,’ muttered Harry Winters’.

‘Shouldn’t be, there’s a heavy price in your head, somehow we have to get you off the island in one piece and with Fong’s power it’s not going to be easy.’

Harry Winters looked at his long-time friend Rolf Lauder, the six foot three Dutchman folded the paper leant back and crossed his long legs. Harry Winters had known Lauder for many years and had often crossed paths with him in an advisory capacity, although Harry was never sure on what he was advising. He wore light coloured trousers a white shirt, on his beak like nose sat a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

‘I was in the area when I heard about your misfortune Harry, Lucy’s mother and father have been informed and will meet the plane when she arrives home,’ he was fiddling with the paper low beside the bed.

Rolf who’s outside?’

‘Two policemen,’ an unseen thought passed between them; which one is Fong’s man.

‘Is that supposed to fill a man with confidence Rolf?’

Harry Winters began to assess his wounds, his left shoulder was tightly bandaged restricting his movement, as was his thigh, but he had his right hand free, his thoughts of the near future were interrupted.

‘Harry,’ Rolf was saying, ‘the police will want a word with you very soon.’

‘Rolf,’ Harry Winters spoke quietly.

‘Can you get me a gun?’

‘Now why do you want a gun Harry, the police are standing guard,’ his voice low and loaded with sarcasm, ‘you know it’s against the Law.’

Harry Winters wondered what he was doing with the paper.

‘I have to go Harry, have to make arrangements for a friend; he’s going on a little trip.’

‘Rolf, I won’t be taking any trip, Fong already knows where I am.’

Lauder stood, ‘you Australians have no faith and I will have you home in time for - for Lucy.’

Harry Winters was about to beg, knowing if he couldn’t defend himself tonight would be his last.

‘Now don’t worry, I’ll see you later this evening, and we will both make it back to be with Lucy.’

‘Read about yourself, you’re famous,’ Rolf winked.

He gently placed the paper beside him, in reach of Harry’s right hand. It was the way he put the paper down patting as he left; Harry put out his hand and could feel the outline of a pistol in the Hong Kong Gazette

‘Get some sleep you will need it, because you won’t get much tonight,’ Rolf said waving goodbye.

Harry Winters had another pain, the vision of not seeing his beautiful wife again, it was worse than being shot.

‘Mister Harry Winters please wake up you must eat something.’

The small Chinese nurse stood with something on a tray, he had slept, talked to the police then slept again. Dragging himself upright he checked out the light from the window, it was dark.

She placed the tray on his lap; there was a bowl of soup and some crackers, this would be the last time he would see her or any other staff that is until Dangs men had killed the man who was responsible for taking away his three sons.

‘Before you go and disappear,’ at least she had the decency to blush and look away, ‘will you take this out?’ He indicated to the morphine drip in the back of his hand.

She held up her hands. ‘Oh mustn’t do that.’

‘What, you can’t grant a dying man his last request?’ He said bitterly, ‘and taste this,’ he added pointing to the soup.

If looks could kill he would already be dead.

’I’ll take it out,’ calling after her as she fled the room. They had put the drip in his right hand making it awkward to remove with his wounded left hand, as he struggled she came back in and began to remove it.

‘I did not poison soup,’ she said tartly

‘Help me please, where are my clothes.’

She pointed to a cupboard, ‘in there,’ and hastily left.

Chapter Thirteen

There was another gun battle, they came at two in the morning, all the staff had disappeared, a policemen and three Triads were killed.’

‘How did he get out?’ I asked, I didn’t know this man but already I admired him.

‘It took a little time for them to work out; when the Mortuary van showed up they took away five bodies.’

‘Clever.’ I said.

‘We think from there it was a fishing boat then ...’ Grahame moved his hands and shrugged.

‘So you are saying that this man is back here and I am being mistaken for him.’

Grahame remained mute.

‘I was put in here on purpose, the old tethered goat thing.’

Grahame still remained quiet.

‘Oh shit, it wasn’t that at all was it, once they killed me they would go home and Harry Winters would be safe, Shit, I’m not just tethered; I’m sacrificial.’

Grahame looked abashed, ‘this Charlie was not of my doing, I only found out yesterday. And it wasn’t quite how you put it, sacrificial; we don’t have a man of your experience, someone who has close combat training.’

This, I thought, is the reason I was asked to spy on Grahame to see if he would tell me.

I looked around the room, ’how many did you find? I realised I hadn’t done myself any favours as the listener will know who to blame.

‘Three,’ he pointed quickly around the room.

‘So what’s next?’

‘I’ve got your back.’

‘Who?’

‘You don’t need to know that, you can however be the goat or the tiger.’

He meant go after them or wait until they come to you.

‘I’ll play it by ear.’

‘Okay, best you go and check on the Lee’s, I think the Triads will be looking for their friends.’

‘As good a place as any to start,’ I said.

‘You’ll want time off Charlie, let me know when.’

I rose but sat down again.

‘I’m sorry but it still stinks, why are the police using us to baby sit a policeman, because that’s what’s happening and what about the murders? Is that a load of crap as well?’

‘I asked myself the same question,’ Grahame said, ‘I did a bit of digging; one kill maybe just because they could, the other two seems they might have been asking questions about Harry Winters and got carried away.’

‘And?’ I asked, ‘where does that leave me?’

Grahame put his forearms on the desk and spoke quietly as if the room were still bugged.

‘Only Durham knows that.’

‘You can’t guess? Only it’s my arse on the line,’

‘If you want to withdraw Charlie I’ll understand, but the facts remain, there are still a bunch of Triads roaming around trying to kill an Australia citizen and yes we know they are in other cities but not all are here for the purpose of a parasitic murder, Harry Winters? I’ll make a few discrete enquiries and don’t forget Charlie catching these men and putting them in jail doesn’t send the right message home – however, dead...’

Lee’s shop was open I went in, a buzzer went off, that’s new I thought, Alice was serving a customer and there were several waiting, trade must be good. Brian came out of the back room to help his daughter, seeing me he indicated to go to the storeroom.

‘Everything alright?’ I asked.

‘I’ve had a visit from two different men asking about you know who.’

‘What did you tell them?’

‘Said they had been here, but left with groceries.’

I could tell by his demeanour that there was something else bothering him.

‘What else Brian?’

‘They have been asking about a tall man, the description they gave fits you.’

‘Well there are not that many handsome men about,’ I said jokingly, ‘the man who asked what was he like?’

’There were two, one was young and slim, the other taller, a mean looking bastard with a scar, bald and had a droopy moustache.

‘Just the two of them.’

Brain Lee nodded, ‘oh and another in the car.’

‘Have you ever seen anyone that resembles me around here?’

‘Not me; not here, but Alice did. She was out with some friends down near the bay when she saw who she thought was you getting into a car in one of the side streets.’

‘Didn’t notice the make and colour I suppose,’ I asked hopefully.

‘She’s a girl Jim,’ Brian said by way of explanation.

I travelled down to the bay and parked not really expecting to see Harry Winters.

Sitting on a seat overlooking the sea I thought about the mess that was assembling around me. I reasoned that someone wanted Harry Winters safe- well that’s fair enough, but to use Special Services seemed a bit over the top, surely that was a police matter, unless he was more than just a consultant to the Hong Kong Police. The other thing was I was supposed to have someone watching my back – he must be bloody good because I haven’t spotted him yet.

I miss the old job, it was simple, it was all laid out what to do where to go, you prepare, your back is covered, do the job and get out, then have a beer, okay so there are casualties but the better team you have the more you bring alive, this game though has power and political overtones.

My mobile rang, I looked at the caller ID and my heart sank.

‘Jill, what’s news?’

It’s about the funeral Charlie, its tomorrow, can you come?’

‘Yes I’ll be there.’

‘Shall I pick you up from the Brisbane?’

‘I’ll try and get a plane to Brisbane, I’ll let you know later,’ I asked where it was being held, she gave me directions and said the reception was not far away. There are a few of the family coming, but I don’t know how many.’

‘What time Jill?’

‘Eleven,’ Jill said, ’I’ll ring later and let you know what’s happening.

Jill met me at Coolum Airport and drove to a small church not far from where Jill’s father had his business. The church was at the top of the mountain, high on a corner block of land, it overlooked the valley below. The reception was two kilometres away in a private room in a restaurant overlooking the same valley.

I tried to blank out most of the service and really didn’t want to go on after it had finished. I stood on the veranda looking at the view, Avocado and Macadamia nut farms stretched out lush and green. While further away nearer the coast, Pine plantations flourished the other side of the trees, the sea.

‘Beer?’ Someone said at my elbow.

He was holding out a filled glass, ‘I’m Sam, Morgan’s brother.’

I took the glass with my left hand and shook his hand.

‘Charlie.’

‘I know Jill pointed you out; I also have heard a lot about you.’

He was a bulky man with thinning fair hair, we chatted about Morgan and the nursery, telling me that for a while he would keep it going and had put Jill in as the manager.

I was glad when I had to go, I made my excuses to people I wasn’t expected to see again and left.

‘Charlie,’ it was Jill. ‘Are you leaving?’

‘Yes I looked for you…’

‘I was in the bathroom,’ she took my arm and walked out into the heat.

‘I’ll take you,’ she said.

I looked down at her she was very attractive, the tight black short skirt and a white sleeveless blouse looked good on her, if I had met her anywhere else and under different circumstances, I would have made a pass at her.

When we parted at the airport she hugged me tight; I meant to kiss her on the cheek but she turned her mouth and our lips met, it wasn’t a short quick peck; Jill wouldn’t let me go that easy.

‘I’ll never see you again will I?’ She asked fearfully.

‘I don’t know,’ I said honestly

She didn’t say goodbye just wiped away the tears and fled the departure lounge.

Chapter Fourteen

Picking up my bike at the special car park I took note of what vehicles were leaving and kept my eye on the rear mirror, stopping once to check; either they were very good or there was no one following. It was past eight when I entered the flat and immediately knew someone had been there.

It’s an old trick to place a hair somewhere across the door and the doorjamb, it’s also one of the first things a pro looks for, just too easy, he would take the hair and put aside and when leaving wet the hair and put it back, you could install a camera, but if you are moving about from one place to another you have to have a more simple solution, like leaving a drawer out a measured fraction, the width of a pen for example can help, or a glass full of water just behind the door before leaving., okay he or she may see it but it’s no good refilling it because of the wet patch. The intruder has to push his way in and his body width is wider than an arm, I didn’t bother with the glass, there was nothing in the flat of any consequence.

It took half an hour to check, to see if he had left any nasty surprises for me, I came up with nothing.

The question now was who was it and did the person have a lip tattoo, or did they he have an Aussie accent.

Heating up some left over Chines take away, I had a cup of instant coffee, then going into the kitchen I began to wash-up several days dirty crockery, my mind wasn’t on the job I was blankly looking out of the window into the darkness and groping for a plate when it slipped out of my hand, I dived to try to catch it as the window above the sink was shattered, the bullet broke the sound barrier smashing into the wall somewhere behind me. Sitting on the floor back to the sink I saw the damage of its path. The cabinets above a bench in front of me were smashed leaving small pieces of broken crockery on the surface below. I crawled towards the light switch, waiting in the darkness for another attempt the phone rang, trilling on the cheap coffee table

‘Yeah.’ I said.

‘Grahame; how did it go Charlie?’

I hope he meant the funeral.

‘Same as any other funeral boss.’

’Mm, I see they have charged him.

’Have they!What’s happening while I’ve been away, anything?’

‘Yes, three more people from Hong Kong have moved in.’

‘Gone to the same apartment?’

‘Yes, be careful Charlie.’

‘It’s a bit late for that waring Mister Grahame.’

His voice sounded concerned, ‘what’s happened Charlie?’

‘’Someone launched a miniature missile through my kitchen window.’

‘What, are you hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Any ideas where it came from?’

I was tempted to say a gun but I kept my silence.

‘I would say the building opposite; it’s about three hundred metres away, an easy shot for a pro.’

‘I’ll get a team down there.’

‘Wouldn’t bother he’ll be long gone.’

‘Never the less he may have left something behind. Any idea what floor he was on?’

‘That depends, if the flat was vacant he would have to be at least level or one story above me, you would have a better idea if you could track the trajectory of the round.’’

He rang off saying keep your head down Charlie.

It was at a time like this, I wish I had a bottle of Johnny Walker on hand; my gut was filled with a swarm of angry butterflies.

Two hours later Grahame rang back, ‘nothing Charlie, it seems that all were at home, we did have some joy with the roof, someone had been up there, we found a few scuff marks and a cigarette butt, not of much help though.’

We talked for another five minutes, by then it was nearly midnight. I knew the roof was too high to take the shot, the angle was all wrong, was it a clever piece of false evidence, or an innocent piece of debris. I couldn’t settle thinking about how close I had been to death.

I decided to settle my nerves and go for a ride on the bike, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Cruising up Bay View Road it wasn’t as quiet as I expected, the traffic was moderate, the restaurants were all closed it being a week day and for most people it was work as usual tomorrow, or should I say today. Taking a right turn I went down a small tree lined street, the buildings were mainly commercial and archaically bland, flat faced and four story’s high.

I stopped outside a warehouse with one large roller door with a smaller entrance to the right, the sign over the door said ‘Ying Yang Chinese Artefacts,’ was there any connection to the Triads; stretching a point maybe and they would hardly leave signed invoices so I pulled away from the curb checking behind me for traffic.Riding slowly to the end of the street and out of habit watching my mirrors, I saw a car moved away from the pavement, I could not see the occupants so I gunned the bike and turned left, no traffic here. The third street on my left, I turned and rode back to the main road; I slowed down waiting for the car to race around the corner; but it didn’t, it parked across the street.This wouldn’t stop me escaping along the pavement, except that two of the occupants now stood either end of the dark car and were holding something close to their leg.

I took in my surroundings, the building to my left had a ‘For Lease’ sign nailed to the front door there was a small alley and I could see metal stairs leading up the side of the building - a fire exit

It was time to move, I took off preparing to make my getaway, shit I thought braking, another large car was blocking off my exit. Two men strolled into view, hands across their chests, must have read the same manual I thought, if they had pistols or even worse automatic weapons, I had about a thirty-metre safety zone as a hand held gun is grossly inaccurate after that distance, not so with a rifle.

I calculated they had coverage between them of about eighty metres. The street I had ridden into was one of the smallest, sod’s law I guess. I turned the bike around in the narrow street and looked for a way out. Desperation was setting in when I saw the ally, narrow and dark,I moved thefront wheel to put some light on it, a fire escape, three story’s high, it clung to the side of the building.Letting out the clutch smoking the bitumenbehind me; I saw they were getting closer and didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

The adrenaline was revving up, pumping, giving me speed and strength, it took twelve seconds to put the bike on it stand and start to scramble up the rusty iron steps.

Four dark shadows, lit from behind from a street light, walked causally into the alley, I heard the clacking of breaches being pulled back, cocking their weapons.

I was at the second level when they opened fire, it echo loudly between the tall narrow buildings, nine millimetre rounds skittered and plinked off wall and railings, it was like disturbing a hornets nest waiting for one to bite you.Deciding not to try and make the next level Itried to kick in the second level door, when one of the ‘hornets’ bit me, the pain was akin to having a red hot poker laid across the shoulder blade,the door was being stubborn so I flattened myself against the wall and fired four shots over the small platform,someone cried out; strange the things you think of when fleeing for your life, Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Way’ came to mind – ‘and now the end is near,’ if I couldn’t get thedoor open it will be.

The iron stairway moved; they were coming up, those that were would have trouble hitting me and they knew this, so one of them had stationed himself away from the fire escape and was shooting up at me.

It was now or never, before I could jump across the metre and a half iron mesh floor, to kick in the door, I was hit again, it came from those on the floor below, a ricochet from the iron grid I was standing on ploughed into my left thigh, you bastards I thought dropping down and putting the end of the Glock into one of the holes and squeezing of three rounds. There would be no ricochet with my shooting; below a clattering and a jabbering in Chinese. The round that hit my thigh I don’t think had entered, like my shoulder it had gouged a path along the surface.It was however no less painful.

The door sprung open on the second kick, entering I stopped then gritting my teeth with pain I pushed my pistol around the door and fired. This had the desired effect of hitting one or more of the bastards and keeping them cautious.

On my key ring I have a small L.E.D torch; the Light Emitting Diode gave me plenty of light in the black interior.

Slamming the door closed I moved forward, between rows of abandoned offices, dust lay undisturbed, cobwebs hung on open doors. To my right a broken office chair and a filing cupboard its drawer’s wrenched open sat along a wall of partitioned rooms, the pain was getting worse, I hurried along the passageway which was littered with more discarded furniture. The fire escape door behind me burst open, turning off the torch I groped for the filing cabinet I had seen, crouching down I took aim at the door hoping I would score a hit and hoping it would slow them down.I had to move, they had seen the flash of my Glock and would be returning fire; doing my best to hurry along the dark passage, picturing it as I had seen it when lit by the LED torch. They opened fire, raking the passageway with automatic weapon.

Throwing myself to the floor I rolled luckily hitting an open doorway, I scrambled in as pieces of glass, metal, and dust rained down, it was the hornets, nine millimetre hornets, it ceased, I waited, then once more hand out in front of me moved towards the end of the offices.

There had to be a lift and another stair exit somewhere, the lift I knew wouldn’t be working so where were the stairs? The firing started again, this time accompanied by a powerful torch, the door to the stairs was one metre away, I prayed it wasn’t locked and hit it hard; it wasn’t, I slammed the door and went low. I was just two steps down when the door was riddled with bullets.

Limping down the stairs with the LED light on, I needed a miracle to get out of this alive ‘and now the end is near’ – fucking Frank Sinatra. I mentally counted the number of shots I had fired, were there enough rounds left. Reaching another door I paused, were they on the other side, I peered over the stair rail; the stairwell smelt of urine, dust, cigarette smoke and cold concrete. My whole left side seemed to be on fire; I presumed that this was the first floor I went down further, as fast as I could down the cold claustrophobic stairwell. Somewhere within the building there came a loud crash, it sounded like a door being smashed open,inadvertently I kicked a soft drink can, in the silence it sounded loud as it clattered down the concrete steps, I held my breath listening for footsteps outside the door.

I could feel the warm trickle of blood running, soaking my clothes. Opening the door just enough to squeeze through I shuffled sideways two paces then flattened myself against the wall.

It was just as dark and had the same dusty pre-human smell about it as the floors above, the sound earlier of the door being forced open worried me, if the Triads had found another way in, where are they and why are they so dead set - perhaps the wrong choice of word – in killing me?

There was something different about this level, very faintly the sound of traffic filtered into the blackness, feeling as bad as I was, I almost missed the warm breeze on my cheek, there was a door open somewhere, meaning I wasn’t the only one down here. Confirming that thought I heard the click clack of an automatic weapon being cocked, I dropped to the floor as bullets raked the wall above me, they were firing hoping to get a hit, the noise was deafening, thinking back at that time between the slide of the gun being pulled back and dropping to the floor, it was so quick a millisecond at most. I put it down to fear and adrenaline, later I knew different.

Rolling and groaning as my left side met the floor I ended on my stomach bringing the Glock up into the firing position, the firing stopped, I heard the clatter of the empty magazine hitting the floor and the new one slide into place; I waited for the muzzle flash, it was only seconds, The spray of rounds was getting lower and nearer, I squeezed off three rounds, there came an immediate cease-fire.

’Thank you Mister Harry Winters we now know where you are.

Thank you now I know where you are and rolled back the way I had come, they however were taking no chances and began to spay everywhere. I remember the flashes of light and the thump of a bullet hitting high on my right side just above my elbow.

It momentarily blocked out my other pain, the brain now was nearing overload; muscle, nerve ends, punched flesh, ruptured blood vessels, the pain receptors were all sending it the same message, we are in damage mode please help, status critical, it was sending me into shock. I knew what was going to happen, I was going to shut down; die.

Thirty metres away a large torch broke the darkness, it moved to my right, another smaller torch followed stopping two metres from the first I raised my gun and squeezed – on an empty chamber.

‘Well Harry you are in a bit of trouble,’ said a voice behind the light.

The lights swam over me; the brain if it was able to repair me was going to render me unconscious, I feebly tried to raise my pistol again forgetting I was out of ammo.

‘Did you kill my friends, Harry Winters, yes of course you did,’ I think the voice had an Asian inflection; I wasn’t quite sure as the pain blotted out sane reasoning.

‘I will get a lot of money for you, goodbye.’

’No you won’t, a voice said.

I saw the flicker of an arm with something at the end of it move in the light.

I was going to be killed and I couldn’t care less my senses were all now shut off, crack, crack, crack, a weapon was being discharged somewhere close, I remember thinking what an odd thing to say ‘no you won’t,’ I suddenly lost all feeling, the torchlight’s wobbled and dipped and although it didn’t register in my pain riddled mind, two bodies fell smothering the yellow beams, at the same time my lights went out.

Chapter Fifteen

Through the morphine-induced haze I saw odd shapes, it was like watching bad pictures on the telly; the shapes fuzzed and shimmered, then sharpened only to fade to black.

It was a struggle at first to open my eyes, my mouth was dry an awareness of my surroundings hazy. The room was dimly lit; turning my head to the left I saw a monitor and a plastic bag with tubes leading to my arm.

Lying back I stared at the ceiling my heart racing I realised I didn’t know where I was and worse didn’t know who I was. There was a window to my right; it was night. Breathing deeply sucking in air, trying to get some oxygen into my muddled brain,it was a wasted effort, I had a brief moment of clarity, there was an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, oh shit I was back in hospital, or had I ever left it.

I tried to sit up but the pain change my mind, looking around the room; I saw no other beds, I decided to give it another try by meditating the pain away, I closed my eyes.

When I woke the sun was low, I knew this by the long shadows reaching across the room. I began to checkout my wounds, it wasn’t hard, just find the bandages. The morphine was making me nauseous and I was about to reach for the nurses button that hung to my left when the door opened and a doctor entered

‘Ah, you are awake,’ he said taking hold and my wrist looking at his watch.

‘No,’ I slurred, ‘could you take this morphine out please I prefer tablets it’s making me nauseous.’

‘Yes, we can do that—nurse.’

The nurse took out the line from my arm and took away the morphine drip, the doctor looked as if he hadn’t been long out of bed, he was young and looked overworked and tired, his dark hair slightly awry, he was also sporting a seven o’clock shadow.

‘You’re a lucky man, shot three times and every one missing vital parts, you did however present us with a minor problem; your temperature was up and down like a yo-yo, your blood sample was also rather odd. At first we thought it to be some sort of infection but it didn’t match any we have ever seen. Have you been in the tropics lately?’

Topics? Either I didn’t know or couldn’t remember I don’t even remember getting shot was I shot in the tropics?

‘Where am I doctor?’ I said.

A brief look of concern flashed across the tired face, ‘you’re in a private hospital in Sydney—don’t you remember being shot?’

It must be shock I thought and the blood tests what did they show? The doctor was talking again I tried to pay attention but my confused mind was still trying to remember, suddenly a couple of things came to mind – a boat and a spider; then it was gone.

‘It’s not unusual to have a touch of amnesia after the trauma you have been through.’

‘‘How long have I been here?’ I said.

‘Three days.’

‘You said something about blood tests, what was so unusual about them.’

‘Now that was odd, there was definitely a foreign body in the blood’, as your body begins to get over the initial trauma the foreign cells began to deplete, there’s been no sign of them since, well one or two, this is why I asked if you’ve been to the tropics lately, been bitten by something nasty, mosquitoes for instance.’

‘What’s your name Doctor,’ I said thinking and trying to get something back without asking.

‘Oh, I’m sorry Mr Kapps I am Jeff Wilson.’

I felt a sigh of relief -Charlie Kapps, one piece of the puzzle in place.

’‘Has anybody been to see me Jeff?’

‘Not while I was on shift but I believe you have had two visitors earlier on.’’

’‘Jeff, any chance of getting a coffee but not from the machine.’

Jeff Wilson smiled and stood,’ of course and you must be hungry, what would you like with your coffee?’ He said, as he pressed the nurse’s button.

She was pretty, her fair hair was tied back in a bun, her shapely legs encased in black stockings; her uniform didn’t mask her good figure.

’’Yes Doctor, she said.

‘Mr Kapps here would like some breakfast with a good coffee.’

‘I’ll see what I can do for Mr Kapps,’ she said smiling at left and me.

This all seemed very familiar.

‘While she is rustling up some breakfast for you,’ Jeff Wilson said,’ I’ll give you a check over then when you’re finished breakfast I get the nurse to change the bandages.’

I ate and slept, when I awoke a different doctor in a white coat was taking my pulse.

‘What’s the damage?’ I managed.

‘Nothing of great significance, there will be scaring of course, and pain,’ this man was more serious, older than Wilson with a twinge of grey in the hair. ‘The only real danger is the risk of infection, which at one time we thought you had. The thigh wound missed the big muscle; the arm will need some TLC, the other bullet hit the edge of ribs travelled ten centimetres and exited under the arm. Quite near the surface actually, why this happens like this we don’t know. It could of course have exited out near the arm and gone through it. Two wounds for the price of one you might say.’

He stood back his hands crossed in front of him.

’Nothing life threatening of course, although shock can be rather upsetting, you will be okay as long as you take it easy for a couple of months, well I’ll see you later.

I was sure now the doctors are getting younger, but he was the exception...

As he left a nurse came in and asked.

‘Are you up to eating anything?’ She was young; maybe I’ve been here longer than I thought. She was small, petite with a big smile and large brown eyes.

’A coffee would be nice and perhaps a steak sandwich.

The nurse raised one eyebrow and said, ‘I’ll see what I can do, first take these,’ she handed me some, tablets.

I lay back trying to recall what had happened. Something clicked; the voice in the dark, had someone called me Harry Winters, my mind raced sorting the information I could remember. Grahame Grahame’s story of Harry Winters in the Hong Kong Hospital, wounded in bed, dodgy guards outside, expecting another try on his life, unarmed; oh fuck it all was all coming back. The door became my focus of attention; I tried to move, get my legs out of bed and – what? I have no doubt I could walk but how far and to where; and where was the bike.

The meal arrived and the nurse who bought it raised the bed end, I sat up and ate a hospital class steak sandwich and coffee, when finished I lay back and closed my eyes dreaming of Morgan. Whispers invaded my dream; I opened my eyes to see Grahame talking to the young doctor, watching them talk I noticed how both looked tired and drawn, they were both dealing with their own pressures.

The man in the white coat noticed first and nodded to my boss that I was awake.

‘Charlie! How are you?’ they always ask that, no matter if you’ve been shot, run over, or had an arm amputated.

Getting over the preliminaries, I launched off with the questions.

’Yes, it was quite a carnage Charlie, bloody bodies everywhere, your back up got pulled over for running a red light in his haste to keep you in sight – Charlie what were you doing out that late, especially after the attempt on your life, it was only the sound of gunfire led him to the street.

‘They called me Harry Winters,’ I said, stopping Grahame in full flow.

‘Yes, a mix up on their behalf.’

’Should have called to me; ‘hey tethered goat we are here to kill you’, because that was what I fucking was, wasn’t it Grahame, a fucking bait. ’I felt real shitty over being used; if they told me the situation it might have been different.

‘Charlie, you have every right to be pissed off with me but…’

He took a deep breath looked down at his at hinds, then still avoiding my eyes said.

‘This is not how I do things Charlie, I’m not making excuses, but decisions have been made without my input, if you know what I mean.’

‘Yeah I know what you mean, carry on,’ I said.

‘Well the backup man saw two foreign males…’

‘Chinese, for Christ sake, bloody Triads.’

‘Yes sorry, well he saw them break in through the front door; he followed, they were not the only observers. Two kids had parked down the road, looking for a place for quiet shag no doubt.’

‘Surely they must have heard the gun fire?’

‘There was a lull in the business, as you know, we think that’s when the couple parked and were just getting down to it when the fight began again.’

‘And you know all this, how?’ I said.

‘We had another man watching the triads flat, he saw two cars loaded with Chinese leave, he thought it looked like trouble so he called it in.’

‘He was right to do so,’ I said trying to get comfortable.

‘You know the rest, it was handled badly and I told certain people so, consequently I have been stood down, awaiting a new post.’

He gave me a weak grim and shrugged his shoulders.

‘I’ll be in touch Charlie,’ he stood and handed me his card, ‘when you’re ready and fit again we’ll talk,’ he nodded his goodbye and left.

The doctor came back in saying, ‘we are getting you out of bed tomorrow, so make the most of your lie in,’ a nurse came in with some tablets and told me to take them, when I had, doctor and nurse left chatting without a backward glance, so much for bedside manner. I guess I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, I had, in all my years on special op’s never been shot, I’ve had broken bones and other injuries, so being shot three times was a wake-up call to my vulnerability, I had never fallen in love either, another new experience, and never had someone I love been taken away so brutally, it was like being shot, I don’t want it to happen again.

For the next fortnight I had daily sessions of physiotherapy, counselling was offered but refused.

I had just finished doing some light exercise in the gym when Doctor Jeff Wilson approached me, we were in a small television lounge; old magazines lay scattered on a small table.

‘Mr Kapps,’ he said sitting down in a small worn armchair. Let’s have a look at that arm, good it’s healing well. I think in another two days, as long as you behave and don’t do anything silly, we can let you go, which is rather good considering the seriousness of your wounds. I must stress though you must take light exercise and plenty of rest –okay.’

‘Sounds okay to me doctor.’

‘I hear you refused counselling, is that wise Charlie?’

‘Jeff, in my line of work one gets used to this sort of thing.’

‘You may think so now Charlie, but it’s going to hit you sooner or later, it may be next week, maybe next year, but it will happen, you know of course, probably been told about it in your training that some returned soldiers appear to have no long-term psychological trouble, then suddenly maybe 20 or 30 years down the track, a crack up and of course people don’t associate their breakdown of the war.’

‘I know all that Jeff I’ll just have to deal with it when it happens.’

‘Well be aware and if it happens get help.’

He rose gave me a smile waved and went into the corridor.

For the next two days I exercised and despite hospital food I felt myself getting stronger, I read some well-thumbed book’s watched some crappy television and did a lot of thinking, putting together all the facts that I knew, moving and juggling them about to try and piece them together, at this moment though they didn’t make a lot of sense, there were to many pieces missing.

After my daily check up’s and the doctor had left, I decided to take a walk, I was dressed in jeans and tee shirt. From the lounge to my left two doors down was my room, I turned to my right walking past the nurses station, reaching the end I was faced with a set of rubber doors with a Perspex window, looking through I could see more wards, to my left the passage way led back to the nurses’ station and eventually back to my room. Turning left I walked the twenty paces toward the corner and looked into the ward opposite, an elderly man sat on the end of his bed reading a book, he looked up and nodded I nodded back and looked down the corridor that led back past the nursery station. There were various other doors on the left some health cleaning materials, a nurse’s restroom and other health accessories like bedpans blankets, sheets. Out of the last one came a Chinese man shrugging into a white coat, I stepped back out of line of sight, to my right against the wall was a laundry basket, a quick rummage found me a not to clean white coat, it went well with the jeans and tee-shirt. It was the way the man walked that made me suspicious, he seemed too casual peering into the private rooms to his right, his right hand was in his pocket, which was another give away.

Taking a deep breath and catching the possible look on the elderly man in the small ward opposite I turned the corner and walked down passageway following the Chinese man. Turning left at the nurse’s station I picked up a clipboard and pretended to read, keeping my head down I turned right, to my room two doors down. I slowed my pace giving my attention to the board. My peripheral vision picked up a white coat, we were now about ten metres apart so I changed my grip on the clipboard. It had returned, that feeling that came through my body like a small electric pulse a feeling of strength came flooding through my arms and legs, I felt myself tense, felt good, feeling fast strong, I was ready. Not looking up until I was two paces away, the hand moved, it might have been his keenness or he just fumbled trying to get the weapon out of his pocket I’ll never know, I rammed the edge of the clipboard into his throat.

At that moment the frustrations of the past few days clicked in, my left hand grabbed his right as he struggled to free the pistol, I dropped the clipboard as his left-hand clawed at his throat, trying to pull my hand away I squeezed, using the sleeper hold, I only had one hand on his throat my other preventing him from pulling out his weapon, but my need and strength was grater and he had to let go and use two hands, now with two hands on his neck I rammed the smaller man against the wall banging his head hard, he tried to knee me but I was to close, could smell his breath – tobacco, tripping him I threw him to the ground my hands still gripping his throat we landed with crash, his back and elbow thumping on the clean tiled floor. With my knee on his chest I counted him out.

’What are you doing, ’a female voice screamed, I heard a click, clack, as she ran towards me.

’ Get off, what you think you’re doing?’ she tried to push me aside; I heard the click clack of more shoes as other nurses joined in.

‘Get security,’ I said pointing to the pistol on the floor, ’and don’t touch the gun, do you have any nylon tie’s, if you do get them, now.’

Of course the medical staff wanted to treat the Triad but I kept them away telling them that it was a crime scene and that he wasn’t dead just a little bit unconscious. He was now face down his wrists locked in ties I turned him over and pulled back his bottom lip, it was there- the tattoo. The Security came and tried to take control I told him the best thing they could do was to keep people away until the police got there, reluctantly they did so.

“What was that?’ A senior nurse said, ‘on the lip.’

“He’s a Triad…’

‘Oh my god I’ve heard of them,’ she said backing away and was surrounded by her staff.

Some of the nurses ushered those patients who had come to look back to their rooms, I was bombarded with questions but I held my up my hands and said not till the police get here, it took them about three minutes, which I thought was extraordinary, what was unusual about them was they were not in uniform and wore suits and were armed. The one I took to be in charge made a phone call, he listened. The other two plainclothes officers rolled the man over on his stomach and handcuffed him.

‘Your room sir,’ the man in charge said, I went he followed, I was now bloody angry.

‘Can you tell me what happened Mr Kapps?’

So he knew who I was,’ ‘yes of course, we were arguing about who looked the best in our white coats, I said he looked best as mine was inferior probably made in Hong Kong, for some reason that upset him.’

‘Mr Kapps I don’t have time for this…’

’What do you have time for, certainly not for doing your job because this man got into the hospital and tried to kill me, so tell me what do you have time for?’

‘Trying to be smart eh, well we are not here to protect you we are here on another matter.’

‘That’s not exactly true is it, because I saw one of those men out there walking in the corridor several times a day what was he doing playing Doctor, or was he lost.’

‘What happened, Mr Kapps?’ He said signing in frustration.

I told him.

I never saw the man again, never heard of what became of the Chinese triad, in the hospital the incident was never mentioned, the doctors and nurses remained silent. There was however a subtle difference of bed side manner from the staff not blatantly snubbing me just a cooling in their behaviour, even when they were checking on my stitches after the fight no conversations took place.

Several things bothered me, apart from the fresh bout of pain, why did they wait so long, was it because of the tight security and had waited until it slackened, or were they waiting for me to die, not to recover from my wounds. The other thing, how did they know where I was? You’d have to be stupid not to work that one out; the only question was who?

The next day a doctor examined me and was pleased to announce that I could leave the next day, were they anxious to be rid of me.

After being discharged, I could almost hear the audible sighs of relief as I climbed into the taxi; it took me to a new apartment the other being too close to the Chinese Mafia flat.

The following weeks after retrieving my bike, I walked and worked out.

The days were getting cooler; the sun still bright but weaker, pavement restaurants hung plastic covers keeping out the sea breezes and installed heaters. Patrons, no longer in open shirts, and a light summer dresses now wore jackets, the women a fancy scarf around their neck and tight trousers tucked into expensive boots. Most of the cafes and restaurants were in walking distance of my apartment.

It was an uneasy time, constantly looking over my shoulder, checking for signs of entry, sitting inside the eateries and not outside on the pavement for obvious reasons.

I was having an early morning coffee when my mobile vibrated into life, the text read ‘check in’ I guess it was time to earn my wages.

Paying off the taxi, I went through the procedure of entry, one of Durham’s men told me to take a seat and he would tell the man I was here.

There was the usual enquiry, how are you, any lasting damage, are you fit to return to work—and are you up to the task of doing the job?

I gave him the answers, he seemed satisfied and was glad to hear it and that he had a small job for me.

’Nothing big you understand Charlie, just to pick up and look after somebody, here’s the address; they’ll fill you in when you get there, book out a car and the DD wants to see you before you leave. ’He dismissed me by turning back to his paperwork.

Outside in the corridor I checked the note he had given me the address was in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney, at this time of year I shall need warm clothing, the bottom of the note read in capitals the word BAR -Burn after Reading. Now what did the Deputy Director want?

‘The man is expecting me,’ I told the receptionist. She gave me an odd look not quite meeting my eye, the same good-looking woman as before.

‘You can go in now,’ she said hardly raising her head. At the door I stopped and looked back at her, she looked away.

It wasn’t Grahame Grahame behind the desk, but an obese man in a tailored suit to fit his bulk, this wasn’t a case of over eating, my guess perhaps something genetic. A ring of fat, akin to a lifesaving jacket, sat around his neck and such was his girth he couldn’t rest his elbows on the desk without discomfort. His brown hair was streaked with grey and damp with perspiration, it sat long and limp around his collar. He patted his sweaty face with a hanky.

‘Mister Kapps…’ he made no attempt to shake with his banana shaped hands or to rise.

‘It’s good to meet you at last, I have heard a lot about you,’ his voice was high as if it was an effort to move his vocal cords.

‘My name is Douglas Mortimer.’

I didn’t’ bother to ask where Grahame was I knew it would be a lie.

He went through the ritual of asking how I was and would there be any permeate damage. I had the feeling that if I had said yes he would have quickly booted me off the team. He then asked me something that took me by surprise.

‘You were partly reasonable for rescuing a certain politician’s son on a yacht off the coast of New Guinea were you not?’ He wheezed and took a breath, ‘that was good work: what happened to the boat after you docked in Darwin?’ He did his best to sound casual.

‘I don’t know I was out of it, semi-conscious so to speak, snake and spider bites can do that you know.’ He should have known that I thought, was he hoping that someone had spoken about it but why? He then said if I needed anything or wasn’t quite up to it let him know then he dismissed me and returned to his paperwork.

It was time to find my bike, I found it in the basement; someone had thrown an old blanket over it. Checking the panniers I found that they had been searched, the lap top battery was flat but that was a minor thing, whoever had looked at the lap top would have been disappointed as the computer was fitted with facial recognition and a password that I hope would defeat the smartest of computer hackers, there was something else I wanted to check but that could wait until I was on the road unobserved by the cameras now watching my every move.

Sydney is not like London, London has the most CCTV cameras in the world, but it’s getting there. Choosing a back street I stopped and searched the panniers once more. In a secret compartment I found what I was looking for, it resembled an IPod, about the same size but with subtle differences. This one has a small pull out Ariel and it also has a small keypad. After pulling up the Arial I turned on the device, the small screen showed a thin digital line, it ran steady. Starting at the back of the BMW, I slowly moved the detector to the front of the bike, as I passed along the seat the line began to wobble showing small peaks, at the front of the seat adjoining the petrol tank the peaks looked like a range of mountains. One – I pressed on, it came to life again at the headlight, two – I continued, there were no more signals. I went over it again but no other bugs showed up. Taking out the seat bug was relatively easy, the light bug just a little harder.

Now to dispose of them and cause confusion at the same time, they had to be together. Across the street was a small coffee shop; parked outside was a plumber’s Ute loaded for the next job. With the bugs in my right hand and a two-dollar coin in my left I crossed the road, dropping the bugs in the corner closet the cab.

‘Oi, what you fucking doing,’ a voice shouted.

Bending down as he came around the front of the vehicle I groped under the Ute, with the coin between two fingers I, triumphantly straightened up grinning.

‘Got it,’ I said, ‘thought I had lost the little fucker.’

He took in the crash helmet I had looped over my arm, thought’ bikie’, he mumbled something incoherent and got into his Ute; I went in for a coffee.

’Charlie long time no see mate, how the fuck are you? ’the man said as he walked down the small set of iron stairs from his moderate two-bedroom unit. The stairs led to a balcony that ran the length of the one-story units, four in all, there was a set of stairs at either end.

Len Booth was a pommie, an ex-marine, so he says with a great sense of humour. Tall and now slightly stooped with age he moved from the old country as he calls it to get away from the invading foreigners. He had only been married once and that was back in the sixties.

‘I was never there, at home,’ he told me over a beer one day, ’all sorts of things going on then, you know Cyprus, Malaysian rebels and the rest. So she pissed off with me best mate, poor bugger. I saw her a couple of years later, she was the size – to use the Aussie colloquialism, - of a dunny, an a outback shit house, she however, didn’t look well, which was difficult to tell with all those rolls of fat; it was just a feeling I had, she looked miserable, looked fifty plus but I know she wasn’t yet forty.

We drunk more beer and he carried on with his story.

‘Behind her was this little skinny bloke carrying bags of shopping, I tell you I didn’t recognise him, she didn’t see me but I made sure he did. Well the look he gave me nearly broke my heart, but I got over it though – very quickly.’

I met Len about five years ago, he was coming back from the local bottle shop with a six-pack of beer under his arm, it was the same shop I had stopped at to buy beer; I was on leave, having a couple of days off after doing a job with the team in North West Africa. I had only driven a kilometre when I saw a group of eight youth’s surrounding Len. They were pushing and shoving trying to snatch his six-pack.

Pulling up beside them I shouted, ‘save some for me dick heads.’

When seeing I was on my own they told me to piss off, while the attention was on me Len had put the beer on the ground behind him.

The gang ranged from about sixteen to twenty by my estimation and they were all big lads, which didn’t make a lot of difference to me. Through the group I saw a look in Len’s eyes, I was closer now, he gave a slight nod, I kicked the nearest in the knee and saw Len smack the one closest to him in the guts, for a moment the gang was stunned, still wearing my helmet I got stuck in. Ducking a swinging arm I landed a right hook into the heart of a skinny youth with studs all over his face, if you can hit the target correctly and hard, it can actually cause the heart to miss a beat or two. The fight lasted perhaps two minutes, it ended with three unable to get off the floor, two being dragged away by their mates holding various parts of their body, some bent over, others holding their faces. Having grabbed the biggest and oldest one I shoved him against the wall.

‘Listen needle dick,’ I said gripping him by the throat and removing his wallet tossing it to Len. ‘If I see you anywhere near here my boys will put you in hospital for a long time - read it,’ I said to the man holding the wallet. He read out the name and addresses tossing cards and other contents onto the concrete. After I released the sleeper hold the youth slumped at my feet.

Len Booth picked up his beer and held out his hand and introduced himself.

‘Fancy a drink?’ He said tapping his six-pack.

Not having anything else to do that night and because he was walking from the bottle shop, presumed him to be local, he could certainly take care of himself.

’You’re on.´ I said.

Chapter Seventeen

The garage door rolled up and I followed Len Booth – ‘Boothy’, as I sometimes called him, under the unit, as the roller door came down Boothy switch on a light.

‘Still at it I see,’ he said grinning, ‘hope you’ve made a will.’

We knew at that first meeting that both of us had some special training, he volunteered that he was ex-marine but made no attempt to question me about my situation, probably guessed I was still ‘at it’ as he put it.

He knew I was still in a service of some kind the way I quickly got off the street.

Taking my helmet off I said, ‘you going to stand there gabbing al day or do I have to get my own beer.’

‘Bet you haven’t bought any you tight Aussie bastard.’

We did the man -thing, bumped chests and slapped backs, then I passed him my helmet and retrieved my laptop.

Upstairs I took of my jacket and went to my rented room; it looked clean and tidy, as did the rest of the flat.

‘Coffee?’ Came the shout from the kitchen.

‘Yeah and none of that pissy instant shit either.’ As if he would, one of Len’s eccentricities was his coffee, how anyone can drink that decrap shit I don’t know, he says.

When we were seated in comfortable armchairs Boothy looked at me over his cup.

‘Everything all right? You don’t look that good; get a willing woman and go on a holiday that’s my advice, if not rent one.’

“You are such a sophisticated man Boothy, I’m lost for words.’

We had a chuckle, mine was a bit false, how could Boothy know, bloody pommie humour, I love it.

Giving him a weak smile I said, ‘When was the last time you had a willing woman eh? I bet you hang about outside retirement homes waiting for a desperate blind pensioner, even then I bet you have to dose yourself up on Viagra.’

Australian men have the habit of stirring people up especially Poms and if they don’t reply in kind they lose respect, Len Booth was not one of those, he gave as good as he got -and more. He had told me stories about his time in uniform and I had a lot of respect for him and trusted him more than any man I know, outside the family of course.

It’s hard not to confide in friends holding stuff inside you sometimes can do more harm than good; so I told him about Morgan.

He didn’t say anything until I had finished then he rose and came back with two shots of good Malt Whiskey.

’I heard about that, saw it on the telly, ’he tasted his drink, ‘we see a lot of death don’t we, have to brush it aside and get on with it,’ talking softly looking down into his glass, ’but when it gets personal it’s a fucking different matter ‘aint it?’

We sat silent for a while then Len said.

‘Had something like that happen to me last week - killed him the other night?’

Taking a sip of the amber malt liquid in my glass I looked across at him wondering where this was going.

‘I got up for a piss, didn’t see him just trod on him, there he was all flat and brown, he was my favourite cockroach.’

‘You arsehole,’ I said as both of us laughed, surprisingly the banter helped ease the tension.

‘You hungry?’ Len said.

‘Yeah and tired.’

’Okay you have a kip and I’ll cook up something.

I went to my room, plugged in the laptop to charge it up and lay down. I had used Len’s house as a hideaway for a couple of years now ever since he offered it to me that first night we met, of course I briefed him on strange or unusual characters hanging about, he just nodded and said okay, I think it gave him some purpose in life and he was very restrained in not asking why, I had found a good mate.

Later that night I asked Len If I could use his phone.

‘Coarse you bloody can; leave five dollars in the tin,’ discretely leaving the room.

It was time to call in another favour.

‘Hallo,’ said the small voice of a child.

‘Who’s speaking please.’

‘Sandra.’

‘Is your daddy there?’

‘Yes.’

Silence.

‘Would you get him for me Sandra?’

I heard the phone go down and a voice in the background ask who is on the phone.

Looking at my watch I saw it was a quarter past nine, little Sandra’s up late.

‘Hallo who’s this?’

‘She’s up late isn’t she?’

‘What’s it got to do with you, what’s yer name.’

‘Is that the way to treat a friend Derrick?’

There was a brief silence.

‘Is that who I think it is?’

‘Yes, would you like to buy some tickets in our raffle,’ it was a sort of code, silly but simple.

‘So you want me to buy some tickets,’ Derrick Murray’s voice had softened just a touch ‘and what do I get if I do?’

‘A coffee in your favourite shop.’

‘And who is helping you tonight?’

‘My uncle Sydney,’ I’m calling from Sydney giving him a location.

‘See you in fifteen.’

The ’Coffee shop ’wasn’t exactly a shop it was at the back of a pub.

Murray came in and ordered coffee’s and came over and shook hands.

‘Still in the Cloak and Dagger business Charlie?’ He said with a small grin, it was funny the first time round – now…

Like most of us had put on a little weight, there was a little less of his ginger hair and to compensate for it, he had grown a moustache, there seemed to be more freckles on his florid face as well. Derrick Murray was another member of special operations, we did a stint in Iraq when we were young bloods and had kept in touch ever since, I would sometimes put business his way.

‘So what can I do for you Charlie, a car, a gun, a woman?’

‘Can you do all three?’ I joked.

Our drinks came, the young waitress smiled and said have a nice day; I didn’t like to point out to her the day was nearly over.

‘So what’s it going to be?’ He leaned closer in a conspiratorial like manner.

Unlike Len booth, Murray was a nosy bastard, always wanting to know what I was up to, where I was going, probably made him feel he was still in the game, I sometimes made things up, he became excited and gave me advice.

‘I want a car, just for a few days, I’m going into the mountains, there may be snow.’ I had a story ready for him.

‘What you going to do up there?’

‘Ski,’ he lent back and tasted his flat white wanting more.

‘Come on Charlie what gives, you’re not going on holidays are you?’

I fed him a bit more, ‘I’ve been following this paedophile, he’s meeting someone he’s been talking to on the web, they have arranged to meet at the Ski lodge, he’s got a thing for young boys, the lad is going there with his parents, I’m on the job so to speak.’

It seemed to satisfy Murray, who then said, ‘Do you want some help?’

‘Thanks mate no I’ve got it covered. I just needed a car because the motorbike wouldn’t handle the snow too good.’

Having failed to extract any more information from me, he said he had a Subaru Forester that would fit the job, he would arrange for the car to be delivered to River Vale shopping centre, at 10 o’clock tomorrow and to wait outside the bakery.

By 11 o’clock the next day I packed a few possessions in the Subaru gave Len some rent money and told him I would see him when I see him.

The traffic wasn’t too bad as most of it was coming into the city while I was going out. The day was bright with the cool westerly wind coming off the mountains, fortunately the Subaru had come with a GPS, I locked in the address, remembering to delete it before giving the car back knowing Murray would give it the once over. Some posh bastard was giving me directions, I didn’t mind it was company. By three o’clock I was on the Alpine Road, the forecast was for heavy snow in the Alps, which was not unusual for July I guessed this will have the resort people rubbing their hands and I don’t mean to keep warm. Towns became smaller the higher I went, it also grew colder.

The landscape at first was dotted with farms, large paddocks had scattered cows or sheep. Trees lined the two-lane road some were bare others evergreen, it grew steeper, sometimes flattening out attracting communities, the road twisted and climbed through rocky outcrops and small bridges under which small streams flowed. Goats could be seen on boulders and granite protrusions away from the road, then suddenly it would flatten out again and there would be meadows and cattle crazing, that situation however was getting less as the mountain grew higher.

It started to rain and the town I was approaching seemed a good a place as anywhere to stop for a break.

In Sydney people were walking about in shorts and just the occasional light jumpers, here shorts were nowhere to be seen, except for the odd local who was used to the chilly weather, jeans, heavy woollen jumpers and jackets were the order of the day. Young girls who never seemed to feel the clod wore black thick tights, short skirts with fashionable small fur collared jackets. That would all change when they reached the snow.

Standing on the pavement I watched the passing traffic, most had skis or snowboards tied to the top of their SUV’s.

I found a place in a busy café had coffee and a burger, found a service station juiced up then joined the traffic up the mountain.

The rain had turned to sleet and the wind had picked up, outside looked bleak and miserable., the GPS posh man told me to continue and not to turn left, so I said thank you and didn’t.

The light began to fade; it was just past four o’clock, a few kilometres on and the sleet turned to snow. The windscreen wipers now worked harder, the traffic, all at once wisely slowed down, all following the same wheel track as great gusts of thumbnail sized flakes whirled in a heavy unordered fashion. Headlights created a weird chaotic scene, from the dark beneath the tree-lined road the lights only seemed to pick up the whirling white flaks of ice; the rest of the storm was hidden in darkness of the winding narrow road.

About three quarters of the way up the mountain posh voice spoke to me again.

After three hundred metres turn left.’

I signalled early not wanting a big four wheeled drive to hit me in the rear it would be almost imposable to stop quickly in these conditions.

According to the map the dirt road on which I was now driving had a right turn, which led to several properties, the virgin snow covered gravel road curved slowly before it forked. I took the left hand path and almost immediately it curved sharply to the left, guessing that whoever had shaped the road had taken the easy option, for it curled between high banks and large trees.

Posh voice told me I had arrived at my destination, he must have had better eyesight than me, for all I could see was dark shapes and bucket loads of large white confetti falling. Outside it was freezing, inside the car there was no need for a coat, folding my arms across my chest I took a couple of steps hoping the property lay in front of me. The snow was now several inches deep making it hard to define the track leading to the property. Two steps more, I stopped, to my left I could just make out a post, should have bought a torch, Swearing I went back to the car, I backed up and turned right, headlights flashed over the post, I aimed at what I thought was the centre of the gravel entrance.

The wipers were struggling now, restricting my view, because of the reflection off the falling snow I had to keep the lights on dip, as for all I knew I could be driving across a frozen paddock into some trees, two more posts came into view, aiming for them my lights picked out a house. To the left of it was an open carport; I drove in leaving my lights on, having no idea if this was the correct address, the adjoining stone building was dark, which I thought was odd because I could smell smoke. Grabbing my coat from the back seat – it was short and padded, handy on the bike. Picking up my bag and fishing out an LED torch from my coat pocket I turned off the lights and looked for a place out of the weather. The house, what I could see of it, had a small veranda, finding two snow-covered steps I stepped up out of the freezing wind.

Either side of the door were stacked piles of firewood, still no sign of life from within, hope I have the right place, I knew someone was home, it didn’t feel empty, I know it sounds strange, but if you have ever walked into an empty house you get that lack of presence, a silence, it works both ways with me, also they had a fire alight. The wind ignoring my jacket and jeans sent chills through me, I banged on the door and waited, I hammered again.

‘Hey, I’m freezing my arse off out here,’ shouting into the wind.

The torch picked out a brass handle on the wooden door; I turned it and went in quickly closing it. ‘Anybody home?’ I called; dropping my bag I walked two paces it was dark save for the glow coming for the fire. The warm room was permeated with several aromas, beef stew, coffee and another smell which eluded me, I took another pace, the adrenaline or something akin to it was kicking wouldn’t say I was used to it, but it wasn’t a surprise. My calling out was interrupted by round metal object prodding my back, was this bad or good? If you get too close to a person and you’re quick, the chances are you can disarm whoever is silly enough to stand that close, it’s the work of an amateur, just turn fast and with your right or left arm knock aside the weapon and hit him and yes the gun may go off but it will discharge harmlessly under your arm or at least it won’t be fatal.

At this point my breathing became more rapid my nervous system started revving up, strangely, I began to feel nauseous.

Turning fast I knocked a long steel tube away to my left, a blinding light hit my face.

‘Stand still and I won’t shoot you,’ Said a soft female voice, it was deep and steady, then suddenly the room was flooded with light.

A tall long legged woman in black tight trousers and a dark knitted jumper threw down the long metal tube behind her, not once taking her eyes of me; she had a heart shaped face big eyes and a slightly crooked nose.

I blinked, the woman, my surroundings lost focus, the only thing that didn’t was the blued barrel of the revolver held in her right hand, It grew larger the longer I stared at it, my power and speed program were being over revved.

Cold sweat ran down my back as I raised my hands, nothing registered at that moment only what that gun could do to me and was I going to stop it. Suddenly I saw the bullets slowly leaving the mussel of the gun, I stood frozen, felt the metal rounds smash into me, tearing at my flesh, burning pieces of metal burned into me, the pain was real I could feel it.

Staggering back in shock I tripped over a coffee table and went down.

The woman said later that I lay curled in a ball not saying a word, she told me this when I awoke on the sofa near the combustion fire. The awakening wasn’t too bad; a metre and a half away was a female behind bending over the fire.

I must have felt a little bad because I didn’t aspire to the shapely behind before me.

Looking down at me raising an eyebrow with a look that said in your dreams, she said.

‘Coffee, tea?’ There was nothing friendly about her tone.

‘Coffee please,’ I said trying to sit up and pushing of the blanket.

Not a word was spoken until she bought over the drink putting it in my hand I had trouble controlling the shakes.

‘I’m sorry if I frightened you,’ she said sitting on a sofa opposite. There were two sofa’s placed a metre away from the fire with a coffee table in between.

I could see she was less than impressed with me. Well, let’s see how you react after being shot three times I thought.

She may have said sorry but her voice didn’t relay that. Putting the cup on the table I lay down closing my eyes, knowing what she was thinking. This man was sent to help me and I frightened the shit out of him, by just pointing a gun at him.

‘Don’t let your coffee get cold,’ she was as cold as the coffee.

Opening one eye I said, ‘No miss.’ It didn’t raise a smile.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked over her tea cup.

’‘Charlie –Charlie Kapps- with a k and a double p, what’s yours?’

‘What are you doing here Charlie Kapps? Take a wrong turning somewhere?’

‘I’m beginning to think so., but doesn’t everybody do that one time in their life,’ I said with my eyes closed.

The doctor had said it might happen, could be a week a month or years, he said to get help, oh right I’ll ring someone and they will brave the snow storm and get me better. I wondered how long it would last or even if it was permanent, she was speaking to me.

Struggling upright I reached for my cup.

‘I said do you want some beef stew?’

The coffee was lousy, it suddenly dawned on me - she was a Pom, English no less. I felt like shit, I had to use two hands to stop the coffee spilling.

‘Sorry what were you saying?’

‘I said do you want some beef stew?’

‘No thanks; maybe later,’ putting down my almost full cup, I sat back, ‘is it a secret?’ I asked.

‘What?’

‘Your name, is it a secret?’

‘No.’

Any other time I would enjoy playing games, but right now…

‘What is it you want to know?’ I asked resigned to doing it her way.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I was requested to give aid and assistance to a certain person I believed to be at this address, have you locked all the doors and windows?’ I believe the deviation took her by surprise.

‘Yes of course,’ for the first time I noticed a change in her demeanour, her phone on the coffee table made a chirping sound she picked it up and went to the kitchen, which was over to the left side of the house about six metres from where I sat.

I studied her as she spoke softly into the phone, her curly brown hair just covered her neck, she had sexy full lips, and I liked that.

She clicked the phone off and sat down on the sofa again, there was an odd look in her eyes. I wondered who had called her.

‘Would you mind if I slept for a while?’

‘No of course not.’

Although I wasn’t at my best I was still operating on instinct and experience.

‘Turn out the lights and don’t let the fire go out.’ I said easing myself to a more comfortable position.

She had it in mind to question the reason for the order, but she held her tongue saying.

‘Finlay Duncan’

‘Who’s he?’ I murmured my eyes closing.

‘It’s not a he, it’s me.’

I fell asleep thinking what a lovely voice she had.

The fat man was standing over me, his jowls wobbling, he threw his head back and laughed showing sweat a stained collar, the pistol he pointed was large; his sausage like finger was wedged into the trigger guard.

John Durham appeared from the darkness behind Mortimer wearing a dark suit his hands were crossed below his waist, he grinned down at me, half sitting I tried to slide across – something, it was hard to tell, another figure seamed to materialise, didn’t walk, just floated and stood looking at the two men, it was Sandra Millings the sister of the man who murdered Morgan, she was wearing a long white chiffon dress it gently moved by an unseen breeze. At least I thought it to be Sandra, her face was vague, undistinguished, fat man lowered his gun as the two men faded way into the background; someone was shaking me.

Finlay had put a tray of soup and drink on the coffee table.

‘You had better eat Mister Kapps.’

I looked up at the tall figure before me and wondered where I was, slowly things fell into place. Oh shit, I thought it happened just as that smart arse doctor said it would and right before the person I was supposed to guard, the whole awaking had that Deja vous thing about it; but was it all that it seemed, I had been in dodgy situations before and never felt like that, this I knew was different, before I hadn’t been shot three times, it felt like two bodies of water hitting each other both trying to push back the other, what a pathetic Charlie I was. Looking up at her I could see she had the same thoughts, I wondered what had happened to me while I was having the nightmare, shouting, throwing my arms about? I groaned inwardly and reach for the food.

‘What some more?’ She asked when I had finished.

Shaking my head I muttered thanks.

It dawned on me that there was daylight coming through the windows and the fire was still alight.

‘There’s a lull in the storm perhaps you should try and leave while you can.’

Thanks for that vote of confidence; she’s right of course, I wouldn’t want to be saddled with someone who faints at the sight of a gun.

I stood, ‘thanks, I think I’ll stay.’

Finlay Duncan showed no emotion except perhaps of a slight tightening of those lovely lips.

‘Could I have a shower?’

Duncan nodded.

‘Good then we will talk,’ doing my best to regain some lost ground. I stopped at the hallway and asked, ‘where is my bag?’

‘Spare bedroom second on the right,’ she said.

I showered and went into the bedroom, changed my underwear and shirt put on my jumper surprised at how cool it was down this end of the house.

‘Another coffee,’ Finlay Duncan said as I went back into the big room.

She must have read something in my expression

For she said.

‘Brewed.’

Sitting on the sofa next to the fire I said, ‘so you didn’t think I was worth the good stuff earlier?’

She put the coffee down on the table between us and said, ‘okay let’s talk.’

‘Why is the fire still alight?’

‘That’s not important; no one knows I’m here.’

‘I do and if I do so does someone else.’

‘Don’t take offence Mister Kapps, but I feel safer on my own.’

I didn’t blame her for, you point a gun at someone and they fall apart it seems somewhat justifiable.

Sipping my drink gave me time to think, perhaps telling her that I have seen more action than she has would probably be superfluous, it still wouldn’t inspire confidence, the more action you see the more likely the chance of breaking down, its every soldiers nightmare.

I changed the subject, ‘why is an MI Five agent hiding out here? Have you been a naughty girl?’

‘You know I can’t answer that.’

’You can but you don’t trust me, you think you’ve been sent a ‘has been’, someone who’s past their prime.’

She smiled briefly, ‘you could say that.’

‘Might be that they think you’re not worth it; so why did your people ask for protection for you?’

‘I was told that you were one of the best but so far…’

‘You haven’t seen any evidence of that.’

‘Mister Kapps…’

‘Charlie.’

‘Charlie, I am trying to be polite.’

At that moment her cell phone rang, she took it to the kitchen, once while talking she looked across at me; I finished my coffee and waited.

Tapping it closed she hung her head and lent on the galley kitchen top, I picked up the cups and place them behind her.

‘Bad news, they going to send someone worse than Me.?’ I said quietly

‘That was a friend of yours,’ she said turning round.

‘Don’t know I had any,’ I joked.

‘Another coffee?’

I shook my head, ‘no thanks, so who’s this friend of mine and what did he say?’

Finlay put log in the combustion stove; sitting opposite each other I tried my old trick of not speaking generally forcing the other person to do so.

Finlay Duncan started to talk.

‘This is a MI 6 safe house, we -Five and Six are collaborating – must be a first. It has state of the art security…’

Holding up my hand I said, ‘you’re not house sitting are you?’

At lasts a glimpse of a smile.

‘No it’s a bit more complicated than that.’

‘Tell you what, I’ll tell you about why had a touch of the screaming heebie jeebies, then if you still want me to go – okay, but if I stay you have to tell me why you are here.’

Finlay remained silent for a few seconds the said okay.

I stood and took of my shirt.

Twenty minutes later after editing the gunfight at the OK Corral, we both sat silent for a few minutes. The scars on my arm and side were still healing showing a puckering of the skin, these in time would settle down to a small entry and a larger exit scar. I had told her what the doctor had said, she knew about trauma and the consequences, probably had a lecture on it at an MI5 training course. ’Now chaps you may catch the odd round, but carry on do you best for Blighty and all that.’

Maybe that was seventy years ago, now they have to be on top of their game, then it was spies and the cold war, now its terrorists, nasty people who kill the innocent. Finlay bought me back to the present day.

‘Sorry what were you saying?’

‘I said I have no idea what it’s like to be in that position, physically I have been hurt in fights and so on but have never been shot – had a few close encounters of course.’

‘It’s not an experience I would recommend,’ I said trying not to sound glib.

‘How do I know you won’t fold the next time, it’s not only your life on the line but mine also.’

’You have a point Finlay and you don’t, did you air your concerns on the phone earlier?

Who was it by the way?’

‘It would be better if I told you a little of why I am out here.’ She said avoiding the question, ’you understand that this will be an edited version of what happened, for obvious reasons.

The man in the grey suit with a red tie elegantly knotted around his white silk shirt was seated at a heavy Oak desk, he waved me to sit.

I studied his smooth clean-shaven face and neatly combed grey hair. Before him on the dark polished desk sat two light brown folders, he opened the top one.

‘How are you Miss Duncan?’ Not giving her time to answer he added, ‘and how are your father and your lovey mother, well I hope.’

‘Very well thank you, they send their regards.’

‘Good, good,’ he said concentrating on the contents of the file.

Clive Wickham tapped the notes, ‘like going undercover do you?’

‘Only for a short time, have to be careful it doesn’t become your life.’

I thought about the Indian Restaurant I had infiltrated, only it wasn’t Indians that ran it; they were Pakistani. I had carefully and slowly made friends with one of the wives of the waiters, who had turned out to be one of the owners. Her new friend had taken me to the living quarters above the restaurant where I the MI5 agent dressed as a local girl in short skirt tight jumper, high-heeled boots and finished off with spiky hair and a London accent. I surreptitiously planted several listening bugs. Three months later two days before the terrorists were about to strike they were raided, the Anti – Terrorist group found enough bomb making material to blow up half of London. It was reported in the papers that several foreign Nationals were killed in the raid, what was not reported was they were not armed with guns –but with several suitcases filled with plastic explosive. The cases were marked in a foreign script, when interpreted they read, ’Stamford bridge Football Ground Chelsea, one of the police, a Spurs supporter, jokingly said that he would volunteer to take them to dressing rooms himself. In the other case was a car bomb destined for one the major roads leading into London, Death and disruption.

‘OK then what.’ I asked;

‘I’m getting to that.’ Wickham then went on; ‘Indeed, indeed yes many a good man has fallen into that trap, but you will be pleased to know that your next job is a little less arduous,’ Wickham turned a beige folder around and pushed it toward me.

‘He’s asked her to marry him,’ Wickham said thinking that he might get an invite.

My eyes widened a little.

‘Really, about time too,’ I said as I looked down at the photo I realised this hadn’t even hit the papers yet, as if reading my mind Wickham said.

‘It will be announced tomorrow, maybe,’ he then anticipated my next question.

’She and two friends are going on a girl’s night out I think you call it, visiting clubs and that sort of thing.

‘It’s a bit sudden isn’t it Mister Wickham.’

‘Ah, I fear I have jumped the gun, this will not happen in the next week or so, they have agreed to wait until the ruckus has died down, if it ever does.’ He leant across the table and separated three photos.

‘The other two are her friends who will be joining her on her soirée.’

’We have been asked to supply a couple of people for security. ’Did you mention two?’ I had a sense of foreboding thinking about the man I had seen outside in the outer office.

Wickham looked suitably uncomfortable, lowering his voice he said.

‘Ah yes Finlay, the first secretaries son, pretty new at the game thought we would give him something to do; you’d be in charge of course, has to start at the bottom like all of us, though I’m not sure how far this one will climb. Doesn’t matter whom you know, if he or she is not up to it – well.’

Wickham took up the phone and issued some instructions; thirty seconds later Anthony Soames came striding in wearing a well-tailored dark suit a white shirt and a blue tie, he sat next to me.

‘Mister Wickham.’

‘Mister Soames this is Finlay Duncan you will be working together, she will be in charge of the operation.’

Soames briefly glanced at Duncan; he wasn’t the most attractive man, high cheekbones made his small close together eyes seem even smaller and although he had some work done on his nose, it was still prominent, it over hung a thin lipped mouth that nestled above his receding chin. It was clear that having a woman in charge didn’t sit well, worse when I stood I was taller by a couple of inches; he would have to have a word with daddy.

‘You have a couple of weeks, question them ask what clubs they may be going to visit, are we playing chauffer? And so on, I’m sure you know what to do Finlay; any questions?’

Soames sat forward, ‘will we be armed and will there be back up?’ He asked.

Clive Wickham looked at me batting the question to me; I was tempted to ask if he had been reading Ian Fleming –the 007 man.

‘I’ll make that decision when I have finished talking to the girls,’ I knew the answers already but I needed to emphasise my position and of course guarding a young woman who was soon be a member of the highest family in Britain, of course she would be armed.

Over the coming weeks we talked to the three

The Young women had decided they would take their own car and didn’t know which club they would be going to until the wee small hours of the morning, I tried to tell them it was essential to know where they were all the time and to keep together, they waved me away, indicating they could look after themselves.

Anthony Soames was, I thought the proverbial pain in the arse, it was -my father knows so and so and has the Prime ministers ear, I nearly said ‘give it back to him’ but Tony, as he hated to be called, had a distinct lack of humour.

We would rendezvous with the girls at a certain address, hoping to lose the paparazzi. Since the announcement of the impending marriage, the couples movements was conducted akin to a military exercise, it was only achieved with the help of a squad of uniformed police and a special security group. I had repeatedly instructed Soames on what to do if this happens or that happens and not to draw attention to the group or himself, and not shoot anybody - understood? Of course there was no need to keep on; he wasn’t silly my father is… Oh God I thought.

The first stop the girls made was POL’S, whether or not this was a euphemism for the Polish Mafia boss who owns it Mi5 had yet to make up its mind. The three J’s wore long coats against the penetrating wind. For security’s sake, the girls were named Jill, Jackie and Joan. The club was off a busy city road, it was a bitterly cold evening with blustery winds with the threat of rain and maybe sleet later.

The usual heavies guarded the door, large men of a pugnacious appearance, a small queue had formed but the three J’s walked straight in, which worried me as it seemed they may be regulars. Myself and Bozo, as I called Soames, were both stopped, I let the thug run a metal detector over me, and obviously it beeped at the large piece of metal in my waistband. The heavy gave me a blank look and began to push me away. Grabbing his large arm I shoved my card in his face.

‘He’s with me,’ I said walking past the seething man, both of us were also wearing long coats, although mine was open for easy access to my Glock pistol.

The noise was deafening, the three J’s had already shed their coats and were at the crowded bar which stood at the far right wall, the disc jockey was to the left on a small back lit stage with flashing lights, Bozo - Tony, was about to take off his coat as the temperature had risen somewhat. The mass of gyrating flesh might have had something to do with it.

Both Soames and I were miked up.

‘Keep your coat on Anthony, you may have to leave in a hurry and we wouldn’t want you to catch a cold would we, what would daddy say.’

He started to protest but I interrupted.

‘Can you see them?’ I was also having second thoughts about keeping our coats on they stood out like tits on a bull. The decision was made for me, in less than half an hour the three J’s were on the move.

I had told Soames to concentrate on the job in hand and to stop gawping at the scantily dressed flesh writhing and grinding before him, there would be a lot of shagging tonight I thought, I felt a surge of loneliness and jealousy, the prospect of my going home to a cold bed in the early hours of the morning with no one to snuggle up to didn’t fill me with glee.

It was coats on coats off, move to this club, mingle, dance, drink, visit the bathroom, stop Soames chatting up young girls, barking into the mike to get his act together. Both Soames and I were sure we were going deaf by the time the fourth nightclub had been entered, sometimes it was the girls who wanted to move, the last two it was mine, I had a call that the paparazzi had got a sniff of her movements and was heading our way.

At three thirty all five of us entered a club not far from the Thames; it was a honeycomb of yuppie development, a maze of flats, café’s smart new expensive shops and Polish drug dealers, I remembered when these were dockyards and my mum and dad used to take me on a ferry cruise to the river mouth and back again.

The club was called Mo’s no prize for guessing where that came from.

It was bigger, nosier, more expensive and plusher than the last four they had been to. It was also darker, making harder to keep track of our charges and to see the buying of any drug you could ask for.

The men at the door did their best to stop us but were told that it could be arranged that the drug squad could be here in a couple minutes, as soon as we had entered one of the men spoke into his mike that connected to his earpiece.

The three J’ of course went straight to the bar, it was three o’clock and raining to add to the discomfort, a cold wind blew of the river and both of us had taken off the heavy topcoats. I was damp, hungry, tired and wondered how much longer it would be before our charges had had enough; even the lonely flat and cold bed was looking good.

Jackie one of the girls mimed that she was going to the bathroom, I followed speaking into my mike I said.

‘We are going to the ladies Tony don’t let them out of your sight.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said only half concentrating on the job at hand; his attention was half on the two J’s his other half fixed on the writhing mass of shag-able crumpet flashing long legs and the occasional G-string before him. He would dream about this night, probably go blind doing it, there were all sorts before him, throwing their arms in the air thrusting their pelvis and thighs in all directions, blondes, red heads, brunets and other colours he never knew hair could be and some of the shapes made him wow. Tall, short, big, slender, he didn’t care, he just wanted one to take home and… oh fuck he thought where are they., franticly scanning the throbbing room he could see no sign of the two young women he was supposed to watching, he used a bar stool to see above the crowd.

‘Oh shit,’ he said half aloud to himself.

‘What was that?’ I asked.

‘Nothing.’

It came back like an echo to me, the words having left Soames a few seconds ago had now come back.

‘Oh shit,’ it turned Anthony Soames stomach.

‘You do have them in sight don’t you – Tony?’

Tony began to push his way around the permitter of the dance floor jumping up hoping to get a glimpse of them.

‘Stay there,’ the taught voice said in his ear, ’she must be talking to whoever her name is, in the ladies, he couldn’t remember her name his mind was in turmoil.

‘They separated,’ he lied, ‘I couldn’t watch both of them,’ yes that sounded good he thought he felt better, he could hear his father talking, ’blaming someone else, ‘oh yes it’s not my fault.’

I appeared out of the crowd my eyes blazing.

‘Where are they bozo what were you doing, perving instead of doing your job, go to the front door ask if they have left, you can do that can’t you?’

Turning back into the crowd I pushed and elbowed my way back to the ladies, I spoilt a deal going down by knocking tablets out of a dealers hand, scattering little pink pills over the floor, the skinny longhaired youth screamed at me grabbing my arm.

‘You stupid bitch you’ll pay…’

I didn’t have time, I took hold of his hand pinching a nerve between finger and thumb and levered down, His scream was muted by the loud throbbing music. All around us people were on their hands and knees looking for those little pink pills and a free night of bliss.

When his face was level with my waist I opened my jacket showing the Glock I then kicked him and without a backward glance pushed through and into the ladies. It was, as I feared, empty Jackie had gone.

‘They haven’t come out this way,’ Bozo said in her ear.

‘Go check their car, if it’s not there go around the back there’s a taxi rank, check it out.’

Leaving the toilets I picked up my coat and went to a door in the far left corner, I put my coat on but left it unbuttoned; a small thick set foreign looking man stood to one side of the door.

He stepped in front of me holding up his hand, I checked out the broken nose and the scaring around the eyes, bet he comes from thugs Ville I thought.

Thrusting my warrant card into his face I reached for the handle.

He knocked my hand away and said something I didn’t understand, it sounded like Polish. I was marginally taller but he was much stronger his jacket bulged with muscle, stepping closer I could smell garlic and onion, I waved the card into his face, it received the same blank look, feigning frustration I folded up the card and put in my pocket; before the man could blink I was jabbing the cocked pistol into his tight hard stomach.
’When I step back, ’I said in Russian, ‘be a gentleman open the door for me.’

It was the first time I saw some sort of expression on his face, it was small but it was there. I stepped back, he turned to open the door at the same time I took another backward step, he moved quickly for a thickset muscle bound man but his large hand just whipped though the noise-laden air, having stepped back on my right foot I now aimed a kick at the man’s crutch with my left, it only partially connected but it had the desired effect, automatically he grabbed his testicles. I stepped in and backhanded him across the throat with my gun, before he could collapse I pushed him through the door, as he fell, choking and gasping for air, a man came out of door to her left in the brightly lit corridor.

I had anticipated this; they had seen it all on the security monitors.

‘I am a police officer,’ I screamed at him as he raised his gun, ‘you know there are more outside- put the gun down-NOW.’

The man was wearing a dark jacket and jeans and a black rollneck jumper, grinning he began to lower his weapon, for a brief instance he looked at where he was going to place it, at the same time Finlay squatted down making herself a smaller target.

He came up fast intending to put three rounds into his target; he squeezed the trigger automatically aiming where he pictured in his mind the target to be, too late to adjust he felt two thumps into his body, for a full second he felt no pain, then his mind tried to deal with the ripping pain of his flesh and the message being sent along the tracks of nerves and tissue, danger damage to… his knees gave way, he toppled onto his face and died.

What the hell’s going on, I thought, all I wanted to do was to view the security cameras to see where the three J’s had gone and I was met with violence. Still lying prone I took out my phone and dialled; the man asked what she wanted and who she was, I gave him a code and the address of the club.

The passage-way was a pale cream with speckled grey carpet, I could see a door at the end and one on either side. They would be watching I knew that, the only explanation was that the young women had either gone with persons unknown willingly or had been taken and I knew the longer I remained here the less chance there would be of finding them. Jumping to my feet I sprinted towards the door at the far end, it was about fifteen metres away, but to me it seemed longer, hitting the door I pulled, then pushed, it was jammed somehow, swollen maybe because of the rain. Putting my gun in my pocket I grabbed the handle with both hands.

A cry of anguish and despair came from behind me, turning, tugging at my pocket; I saw a very large bald man in a grey suit, with a look of horror on his course features, he stood feet wide looking down at the man at his feet.

He shouted, ‘NO,’ in Russian, the look of horror had turned to anger, pointed a pistol at me, I was struggling to free my Glock.

‘I am a Police officer,’ I shouted, hoping he would see reason and not shoot.

‘You kill my boy, do you think I care if you are police.’

The gun fire in the small passage reverberated twice in quick succession, the big Russian staggered, his hand feeling for the wall, then he collapsed onto one knee, I could see blood staining his white shirt. He made one last effort to kill the woman who had killed his son; another shot pitched him forward his blood oozing into the grey carpet.

I looked from the dead man to the other end of the passage, Soames stood wide-eyed and trembling, for moments there was silence we were both sucking in great lungful’s of cordite, then I said.

‘Back up is on its way, we have to find those girls.’

Outside was cold and wet, there were, no heavies lurking around the back door, hearing the gunfire they were long gone.

I made another call, one I hoped I would never have to make. An all-points bulletin had gone out for the three girls, but nothing was seen of them until the next day. Every CCT camera in the area was checked, either they were hidden in a vehicle when taken, or they were still somewhere in the surrounding buildings.

So there you have it, the rest of the night or what there was left of it was utter chaos, the Club was raided and searched, the patrons questioned. Some of them were out of it, the pink pills having worked. The by-product of the raid was -three Russian mafia were killed and nine people were charged with possession to deal.

‘Well what about the bride to be,’ I asked. ‘I know she got married last week.’

‘You know I cannot tell you that Charlie –OFA –Official secrets act and all that.’
‘I signed that long before you did, come on what happened.’

She swallowed the last of her cold coffee.

‘Finlay has this any bearing on what’s going on here, you can’t tell me you’re here on holiday.’

I could see her giving it some thought – wavering.

‘Okay; but if a word of this gets out you’re dead meat, do you understand what I am saying?’

‘Yes, as you Poms say I’ll be brown bread = dead, I will be hunted down and never seen again, in my present form.’

The M15 agent took a breath and continued.

‘Have you ever been on the salt flats at the mouth of the Thames?’

‘No can’t say I have, does it have any nice beaches?’

‘Charlie in some places its bog land, other parts barely liveable, sheep and cattle use to graze there, most on higher ground, there is the usual development, resorts out further, industry, refineries that sort of thing and the River Medway a tributary off the estuary, this particular place I’m talking about is just flood land, no doubt it too is marked down for development…’

I was wondering when she was going to get to the interesting bit, I didn’t have to wait too long.

‘The odd fisherman has a small cottage where he can spend the night although the fishing is not that good now. A number of dwellings have been abandoned or have been swept away with a big flood.’

‘The point you are making Finlay is?’

’Am I boring you? Well how about this, there’s a small island not much bigger than this house, no land to pitch a tent on, just tree’s – a pensioner lives in one of the trees, when the tide goes out he cycles through mud, does his shopping and gets back before the tide comes back in.

“Shit! I thought our old folk were having hard.’

She went on as if I hadn’t spoken.

‘A fisherman went to one of these houses after being forced to stop fishing because of the bad weather, he found the three girls on an old bed unconscious, it wasn’t long before the helicopters arrived and took them to a private clinic.’

‘Holy shit, what happened to them?’

‘We think they were taken on board a yacht; then dumped, what happened to them? I can’t say, even himself doesn’t know and if it did come to light, think of what the papers would say and that certain family’.

I was aggrieved, ’you told me all that and missed out on the juicy bits.

She smiled, ‘use that Aussie imagination.’

Holding up my hand I said, ‘that doesn’t explain this,’ I pointed to the roof.

‘I killed two men that night, Tony Soames killed one and now he is dead, he was coming out of a supermarket when he was gunned down. They never found the killers; there have been several attempts on my life as well.’

‘Bloody hell,’ I said, ‘so why are you here, tell me again, before you do,’ I said holding up my hand, ‘what happened to the gang that took the girls.’

“Long gone, motored out into international waters somewhere and we had no description of the boat. It was thought by the top people that I should disappear for a while so I went to friends in Adelaide.’

‘Nice place if you like that sort of thing.’

‘I moved on…’

‘Don’t blame you.’

‘Then about three weeks later I was on the barrier reef, sunshine, reefs, lobsters and all that, when I get a call from the head of department, saying they have been watching certain people and at separate times three foreign subjects had boarded planes for Australia, they also told ASIO and asked them to keep an on eye me.’

‘Wait a minute there was an incident somewhere up near Shute Harbour a tourist, a Russian or something like that; fell from an upstairs balcony of a high rise hotel.’

‘It was only five floors.’

‘A case of one down two to go.’

She shook her dead.

‘They sent more this time from Germany.’

‘Determined buggers aren’t they, who told you this?’

‘Interpol had a flag on them.’

‘What’s for dinner?’

‘Probably a frozen dinner.’

On the coffee table between us my pay phone chirped, Finlay and I looked at each other.

‘It’s a pay phone,’ I said by way of explanation.

‘Someone knows the number,’ she said.

I picked it up, ‘yeah.’

‘You stay there you will have company soon, three in a dark Holden.’

‘How did…’

‘Later.’

I recognised the voice.

‘How long will it take to heat up dinner’?

Finlay answered with a puzzled look, ‘about eight minutes, why?’

‘It seems we soon may have company.’

‘How many?’

‘At least three,’ I said.

‘Why didn’t they arrest them?’

‘What for can’t arrest them until they do something wrong.’

‘Like killing us,’ Duncan was standing hands on hips.

‘Should I put the coffee on?’ her tone laced with sarcasm.

‘Do that and they might want to stay?’

‘Are you up to this Charlie or do we go now?’

‘Yes, to the first part, don’t know to the second, it wasn’t said how far away they were.’

Going to window I saw it was still snowing, the wind was now a gentle breeze allowing the snowflakes to float silently in an orderly fashion, ’he said a Holden I wonder if it is a 4x4,’I looked at my watch, one fifteen.

‘What sort of car have you got?’

‘A Toyota.’

‘It’s not a 4x4 is it?’

‘No.’

’Is it new, old or what? If so where did you buy it?’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘You may have to leave it behind; you’ll never drive down the mountain in that.’

‘I didn’t exactly buy it.’

I turned away from the window, ‘and you didn’t rent it I bet.’

‘Not exactly no.’

‘Then…’

‘Alright, I borrowed it - stole it – at a railway station, okay?’

Going back to the window I said, ‘can’t trust anyone now days; what do you want to do, stay or go?’

Finlay joined me; we took up positions either side of the widow, barely moving the curtain.

‘It looks so beautiful so quiet, this whole mountain area is stunning,’ she spoke quietly entranced by the magic of the view, ‘they will be skiing further up, laughing having a good time, sitting round a big fire flirting with each other, good Aussie food and wine then later if they clicked back to a warm bed, make love; then do the same thing again tomorrow, with maybe someone different, they will say I’ll be in touch, they will promise – but never do.’

She sounded wistful, sad and suddenly snapping out of it said.

‘They are coming during daylight hours, that’s odd,’ she moved away from the window, ‘unless they plan on a long kill, wait until we show ourselves them drop us with a long shot.’

‘They could be out there now waiting, you want me to look?’

‘They’ll see you coming.’

‘Depends where they are, got a map?’

‘Charlie, we can make a run for it now, while it’s light.’

‘There are lots of, we could do this and that, we could call for back up, but with snow falling I don’t know if the helicopter could fly.’

‘If they are that close it would be too late anyway, by the time they get organised it will be over.’

‘Do you have access to a clean-up team.’’

‘I don’t think so it was never mentioned.’

‘Finlay.’

‘What?’

‘Put the dinner on, we eat now then get ready for them, how does that sound?’

Finlay gave me that look of doubt –was I up to it?

‘We have the advantage Finlay, they are outside in the cold, we are waiting for them in the warm how long will they last.’ I didn’t believe in most of this, I wanted her to suggest we attack not defend

‘Charlie it’s not that simple.’

‘Yes I know it doesn’t need much plastic to blow this place up, or put a rocket where it will do the most harm –so?’

‘I had thought of that,’ she said in her posh voice.

‘I think we should attack as soon as it’s dark, you know surround them.’

‘Charlie please is serious.’

‘Okay, sorry, actually I have a cunning plan.’

Finlay Duncan groaned and threw her arms in the air.

‘Let’s have some coffee and I will tell you about a similar situation I’ve been in before, you make the drinks and I’ll stand on watch for the baddies.’

I took a deep breath and scanned what I could see of the area through the curtain of snow. I was putting on an act, but who was I trying to convince the lady or me.

After coffee I asked Finlay to make a sketch of the area, we went into her bedroom that overlooked the back of the property.

‘It’s nearly three quarters of an acre, cleared land, you can just see, it’s about thirty metres wide by about forty long. The rest is bush, over the fence to the left is also bush – National Park, to the right is a small area of trees, about ten metres, then a gravel road it leads to a farm up and around the bend, they run a few sheep and goats.’

‘So, if I go right passed the car port and over the fence, follow the tree line next door and onto the road.’

‘Yes,’ she gave me a doubtful look.

‘How often do the farmers leave the farm, any idea?’

‘I haven’t been here that long to pick up their habits,’ she sounded like a novice nun in a Convent, ‘I doubt they would travel until the weather settles down, why?’

’I ‘m asking myself what I would do, not that they are as clever as me you understand,’ I gave her a smile; she returned it with the barest movement of her lips, I ploughed on.

‘As you say it is unlikely that travelling is this Weather is on, it’s even more unlikely that the locals would go out at night, so – the guys who are coming are putting money on that they will most likely be safe and unseen, if they get here just before dark.’
‘Yes of course, parking then wouldn’t be a problem.’

So you think they will park on the gravel road and not wanting to freeze their arses off, would pay us a visit not long after dark.’

‘Should we invite them to tea?’

‘Not quite, I think we should give them a warm welcome though.’

‘There’s not much cover on the road.’

‘As long as we don’t venture on to the gravel and leave signs we have the element of surprise.’

‘I had better dress in something warm and white.’

That could be difficult for me; I don’t want to stand out against the snow…’

Finlay came back into the bedroom, ‘try this on.’

She threw me a white set of overalls.

I picked the biggest.

She read my mind, ‘where did you get them from?’

‘I got them from the garage.’

We went our separate ways to change; the overalls were a tight fit over my other clothing.

We reharnessed and planned, not knowing when the car would arrive we guesstimated. Timing was elastic I didn’t think they would leave it to long in getting here, just on dusk. If I were them I would also want to turn the car around ready for a quick get-a-way, nothing would be fast, not with the amount of snow on the ground. As the day drew to a close, we were standing side by side on the back patio when Finlay said.

‘You all right with this?’

It wasn’t like the warehouse, in the dark not knowing where the guns were, here there would be a little light because of the reflection off the snow and I would be waiting for them.

I nodded, probably with more confidence than I felt.

‘Let’s go and freeze our butts of Miss Duncan.’

‘Don’t be silly, call me Ma’am.’

Humour, it’s the only thing that gets me through this job and of course killing the bad guy’s before they kill me.

We left the house keeping the fence line to our right and sheltered by the trees. We walked heads down through the snow. At the road we scouted out the best position for the ambush. Fortune favours the brave so they say; we found a good place to wait. Mine was behind a large tree that had been blown over in a storm and Finlay was behind a pile of gravel the local council had left for maintenance of local roads, the tree had left a large hole and a gap in the bush, the council had taken advantage of this space and had cleared the rest of the trees to about ten metres, filled in the hole left by the Eucalyptus trimmed the roots, levelled the surface and dumped a pile of road fill in the corner measuring three by four metres, Finlay took up a position behind this pile in the far corner I was less than fifteen metres away behind the tree. We figured that it was the best place to hide the car, just drive in and you were off the road.

The snow was still falling and had increased later in the day, just our luck. How long we could stay there lying on the frozen ground I don’t know, we had put on every piece of clothing we could and still move.

Dusk came and went; if it wasn’t so cold I could have stayed and soaked in the beauty of it all. The silence was, floating like the snow keeping you still lest your movements should break the spell, not a thing moved save for the rise and fall of our chests. Trunks of trees stood like marble pillars poking out of a white fluffy blanket. The snow fell, covering nature’s ugliness.

‘Do you think we could stand and wave our arms about,’ a voice in my ear said, ‘only I’m freezing to death here Charlie.’

‘Just don’t leave any tracks, stay where you are.’ ‘I wasn’t thinking of going for a run.’
‘If you are a good girl I will let you build a snow man later, okay?’

‘I can see you,’ she said as we both stamped our feet and waved our arms about, ‘if you were wearing a red coat you would like Father Xmas.’

At that moment I saw lights through the trees.

‘We have company,’ I dropped to the floor behind the tree. Taking off my right hand mitten and the glove beneath I withdrew my Glock pistol.

The car sensibly had turned off its lights before turning onto the road; I could hear the crunching of the tyres, it stopped. I put myself in the driver’s seat, ‘where is the road?’ He would be looking at a wide expanse of white the wipers slowly pushing away the slush, his companions peering through the windscreen giving advice, he wouldn’t move too fast until his eyes became accustomed to the semi darkness, then he would ask where does the roadside start and end, he would be cautious and then might see the small clearance then slowing would hopefully drive in where I was freezing my arse off waiting to kill him. I heard the engine change note and the crush of cold gravel.

I heard a door open and the groan of suspension, it happened again and once more, it was so close I could smell the hot engine; it rapidly clicked and tinged as the cold air cooled it.

They were maybe three metres from me, hearing the boot go up I knew it was nearly time to move, they were getting armed. The boot slammed down, I heard the cocking of guns, had we left it too late?

There were mumblings as they prepared to move off.

My gun hand was in my coat keeping warm, no good trying to shoot with a numb hand, I rose shouting ‘stand still put your hands’ … I got no further, they were turning on me.

Lying behind the fallen tree I wondered if I still had that energy infused in me, it seemed like it, I didn’t have to worry as I had lain there anticipating the scene to come I felt that sensation, the tingling surge of adrenalin that coursed the whole of my body, a high but not slowing you down instead giving strength and speed with no side effects after the action.

‘Hands up,’ Yelled Duncan, this gave me a split second of distraction, as they turned not knowing which way to turn.

The crack of the Glock shattered the silence, six times; Finlay came from around the pile of snow covered gravel her pistol pointing at the car, then lowering it to the pile of bodies at her feet.

‘What happened?’ She said.

‘They shot each other then fell over, I think it was a mass suicide,’ I said putting away my pistol and donning a glove, my heart thumping. Finlay was still looking at me through the falling snow with a puzzled expression.

‘Search them take all identification and money that includes watches and the like.’

We began to the search, I dragged the biggest to the back of the 4x4 and opened the back door, still on a high and I had no trouble lifting him, inside were two small bags, I searched both emptying one to put weapons and wallets in.

‘Oh, my god,’ I heard Finlay say, I came round from the back of the vehicle.

‘He’s Australian,’ she was standing over the farthest body.

‘And he’s still alive,’ I said seeing wisps of warm air condensing into the cold night air.

He would have been the closest to me so I reckoned in my urgency I might have moved on to soon and not putting the double tap where it should have gone. His coat was already open where Finlay had been in the process of looking for his wallet, for one dreadful moment I had the feeling that I had been set up and had killed three Aussie agents.

Opening his coat further I could see the rapidly spreading red stain, blood was trickling out of his mouth and down his cheek; it appeared that one round had gone through his left lung the other maybe through his liver.

‘Can you speak? What’s your name?’ We knew of course having his wallet I just wanted to see if he was cognizant once then silence, his eyes went blank.

‘Come on we’ll freeze to death soon,’ I nodded to the other man giving Finlay the small bag.

‘I haven’t finished,’ she said in a small voice.

I helped her put the dead man into the front seat, after searching the third man I put him with no effort into the back seat then as a precaution we searched the car; nothing, it was barren of anything incriminating.

Heads bowed we retraced our steps back to the house.

Dropping the bag on the coffee table, I went to change, the aroma of coffee filled the room when I returned we didn’t speak. Finlay Duncan pushed the bag aside and put down the tray with cups and coffee while I put another log on the fire. Avoiding her gaze I looked at the fire, it was coming back to life.

’How did you do that Charlie?’ She said her voice low.

‘Quite easy really you just open the fire door and…’

‘Stop it Charlie, you know what I mean, I didn’t even get a chance to take the safety off.’

Leaning forward I poured us coffee, then sat back.

‘You Pom’s are a bit slow.’

‘I’m not a POM as you put it I’m a Scot.’

She was wearing tight woollen trousers and white wool roll jumper, her small breasts hardly making a mark. I was being flippant I knew this, in some ways I felt better, but sad and worried that I had killed three people, if they hadn’t come to the mountain to kill us – well.

‘Finlay shall we leave the sorting of the wallets until later, we really shouldn’t’ be here, I’ll phone the clear up team, is there any one you have to call?’

She took the tray away.

‘Charlie you did well,’ she said as she tidied the kitchen, ‘I’ll admit I had my doubts but how you did…’

‘Later Finlay we don’t have the time, ring and see what the situation is.’ Finlay went to her bag found the phone and walking away from me dialled. She listened said something, waited and spoke quietly into the pone, she was giving a code to the operator. Thirty seconds passed, then spoke quietly, I couldn’t see any reaction any clue of what was about to happen, I was busy wiping down surfaces, anywhere I thought I had touched; I heard Finlay’s boots as she moved.

‘House work?’ She said her face not betraying any result of the call.

I shrugged and waited for her to tell.

‘They know the address; know they can land in the back yard…’

‘But.’

‘There is no flying during this weather and driving up here is going to take for ever, if they can.’

It was what I expected, ‘What else.’

‘They have killed Tony’s dad.’

‘The cabinet sectary person?’

‘He was killed in his back garden - a long shot.’

‘Jesus! These people really hold a grudge don’t they? Do they think it’s the same people that targeted you?’

Working quicker now I said, ‘what else Finlay?’

‘The advice is that we should find another place and yes they think perhaps it was the same gang, but I don’t know who we are dealing with.’

Now it’s twice the danger, Triads and the Russian or Polish mafia, I wonder if it was too late to get some insurance.

It was the first time I had seen some sort of emotion, she was clearly distressed probably holding it together for some time, it builds and burrows in your mental layer until that psychic band is stretched past breaking point, then, you either get through it or you don’t.

‘There must be some sort of consensus, is it the Polish Mafia the Russians, or someone else,’ I asked.

‘We have some evidence that it might be the Chechens.’

‘Why are they being so persistent, you say the night club owner was killed along with his son?’

Sounds a very similar situation, and have the bullet holes to prove it I thought.

Finlay for the sake of something to do was fiddling in the kitchen, avoiding eye contact.

‘We’ll discuss this later, right now we have to be a long way from here,’ I made a move to pack my small bag and check the Glock.

‘We went after them,’ she blurted out, now she had my attention.

‘It was decided that they couldn’t get away with what they did, to those young women, we hounded them putting pressure on any illegal, kicked them out of the country, it didn’t sit well, thought they were untouchable, we interrupted their drug flow, the prostitution and their arms sales. During a drive by shooting, three of them were killed and one was taken alive, the car drove down a one-way street and we had them corned, there was a shootout.’

‘Revengeful bastards aren’t they, come one we have to move.’

Forty-five minutes later I was backing out the Subaru, it was a quarter to nine and thankfully it had stopped snowing. Finlay had packed a large suitcase and a small sports bag.

It was slow going and was hard to see edges of the road so I drove down the middle of where I thought it should be. Our headlights picked out the faded tracks of the 4x4, now covered in snow in the council lay-by, who, I wondered, would discover it first the farmer or the team, I hoped it wasn’t the farmer, finding three dead men at the end of the road would shatter his thoughts of a safe environment, he would also phone the police which led to the media something we try to avoid.

When at last we reached the Alpine Road I was surprised to see it had been cleared, this was of course pandering to the tourists and financial gain, can’t blame them of course , it in some way also benefits the locals as well as it uses local labour when possible. We turned right onto the wet bitumen and down the mountain.

Knowing Finlay wouldn’t question me as I drove through the tricky snow gravelled road I waited for her questions, I didn’t have to wait long.

‘Did you have an automatic pistol Charlie?’

‘You saw the gun I used and you knew I only had the Glock and the small revolver, because while I was asleep you searched my bag,’ she showed no embarrassment about the search just stared out of the windscreen at the falling sleet.

‘You could have had it modified.’

’As I said you handled it checked it out so you know it hasn’t been touched up in any way.

Although it was past nine o’clock we passed going the other way, several cars with skis and snow boards on roof racks. I envied them their life, sometimes it was simple compared to ours, but it was our choice, as in life we all have a choice a path in front of us, it’s up to us which one we choose; having said that life for some is not simple.

‘And what about how you lifted those men into the car, I tried to move one of them and it was hard work. I could have done it but it has taken all my strength and time, whereas you…’

I felt a wave of sadness overcome me, Morgan had asked the same thing, I could see her inquisitive smile, see her breasts dancing over me as she sat astride me, watch those lovely legs stride across the bedroom to the bathroom – the pause at the door, the knowing smile over her shoulder knowing I was watching her, there was a lump in my throat the road ahead went out of focus.

Charlie?’

I blinked and taking a small breath to rally and dismiss my thoughts, I said.

‘It’s a trick, I tell myself it/he was so heavy that I couldn’t lift him, you mentally prepare yourself and (shit I was taking to Morgan again) when you do pick it or him up it’s not that heavy,’ My voice tailed away, I glanced her way; she was a fine looking woman and it wasn’t fair to compare her with the likes of…

‘I can see that, but I think what you are saying is all smoke and mirrors,’ Finlay looked at the passing countryside, murmuring to herself, ’why didn’t the gun jam?’

‘You hungry?’ I said as the road levelled out entering a small town.

’Starving, but at this time of night I doubt we’ll find anything open, she was right, so we passed through and back on the winding road to may be a bigger town with a service station and a coffee shop catering for the late tourists. I noticed the further we went down the mountain the warmer it became, warmer being the operative word, less cold would probably be a better word; the sleet had turned to rain making it easier on the wipers.

‘The clear up team should be able to come this far,’ I waited for a response; all I received was a gentle snore, smiling I drove on.

Skiing enthusiasts were still driving up the range; excited, nervous, the novices hoping not to make a fool of themselves, picturing girls around a fire, rehearsing pickup lines.

I came out on to Route 16 and turned south onto Route 19 through Adaminaby then north picking up the Hume highway. It was a long drive, Sydney was five and a half hours to the east.

At this moment I had no destination in mind except for a service station to get fuel and a bite to eat and a visit to the loo, I had no further instructions what to do with the MI5 officer asleep beside me, steering clear of the department’s safe houses seems a good idea, considering all the evidence points to an informer on the inside and I suspect he or she is helping more than just Finlay Duncan.

Finlay groaned and straightened up stretching.

‘Where are we?’ She said.

‘About to get some fuel, for the car and us.’

At the bowsers I asked Finlay if she had any money.

‘Some,’ she said, ‘how much do you want?’

‘None, I wanted to remind you not to use your card or to make any phone calls.’

She gave me that; ‘I’m not stupid’ look.

‘Are we eating here?’

There was a restaurant, if you could call it that, attached to the main building.

‘I’ll get the fuel.’

She understood the implication; the food was hers.

Over beef burgers and coffee we discussed what to do next, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning and I was tired.

‘I am still not sure you did the right thing,’ she said, biting into her burger.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well shooting those men, we needed at least one alive.’

‘That’s true,’ I said sipping some warm brown liquid from a plastics cup.

‘I could have shot two and let the other man kill me while you kill him from stopping him killing you, see I saved you a nasty job.’

‘It was the speed – and how do you know they were coming to kill us?’

The look I gave her said you must be kidding.

‘Yes, you’re right of course.’

‘No they could be going to sort out the farmer.’

‘Okay, okay, enough said.’

‘Or, going hunting with automatic weapons…’

‘Shut up and drive.’

Back on the highway we looked for a Motel, we could discuss in the morning what to do later first some sleep.

We didn’t speak until she pulled into a large Motel forecourt; Finlay was first inside the booking office asking for two rooms, we each paid for our own, I had sixteen, she seventeen.

As we opened our doors I said, ‘you know we should be in one room, I am supposed to be protecting you,’ trying to sound sincere.

There was just a hint of a smile, ‘oh really and who is going to protect me from you?’

I opened the door and went in.

It was nearly dawn by the time I undressed and climbed into bed.

The ringing of my mobile phone woke me, it was several seconds before I was aware of where I was, the back of the chair was still wedged under the door handle and my clothes still scattered on the foot of the bed, I grabbed the phone checking my watch at the same time, it read nine thirty. My first thought was only a handful of people had this number it was a pay phone and supposedly untraceable.

’Yeah, I said trying to guess who it was.

‘Is that Charlie Kapps?’ a voice I didn’t recognise said.

‘Who’s this?’ I said cautiously said.

‘This is Peter Downs, Allen Marks brother in-law.’

My first thought was that he had been hurt or even worse killed.

‘Why can’t he call?’

‘He’s off somewhere and can’t make calls, I’ve been calling but you must have had your phone off.’

‘What does he want?’ I asked now getting out of bed.

‘He left you a message,’

I heard a rustle of paper.

‘He says it wasn’t just about those two people on the boat but the boat itself, a case of mistaken identity; he thinks they were the wrong people. Don’t know if that makes any sense. He also said someone had been asking questions, he didn’t say what about, oh and he said you were out of it so you really didn’t see the crew, they were unharmed; does that make sense? He said he thought it odd.’

‘Peter do not say anything about this to anybody…’

‘It’s okay Charlie I was in the regiment that’s where I met Doc Marks.’

‘Okay thanks Peter; if Allen does turn up ask him to give me a call.’ I hung up.

I thought about what Allen marks had said, it didn’t make sense.

If the pirates had only wanted the boat then surely they would have killed the crew, unless they were the crew and when they captured the boat realised there had been a mistake somewhere.

Someone was banging at the door, it was Finlay. ‘In a minute.’ I shouted.

Once dressed, we left and went in search of breakfast.

Forty minutes later we were on the road again Finlay was driving, I was going through the dead men’s wallets, there was the usual stuff credit cards driving licence a few receipts, no photos, the foreign passports and airline tickets showed the two foreigners would be going on to New Zealand after a short stay in Australia, long enough I thought to kill Finlay; well that didn’t work out did it.

‘Anything interesting?’ Finlay asked.

’‘ Nothing, except for the Aussie he’s got a card here for Parks Security Service, is he working under instructions from them or is he moonlighting.’

‘Ring and find out,’ Finlay said.

‘Do you think it’s that simple?’ I said, ‘do you think they would tell me if he was.’

‘Well, you’re not going to know unless you ring are you’ she said in that deep modulated voice of hers.

‘Changing the subject, what are you going to do?’ I asked.

For a moment there was silence, I could see her digesting the question, she licked her lips and swallowed.

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ She said quietly.

Her attention suddenly turned to a rear mirror,

‘What’s up?’ I said.

We were on the Hume Highway travelling north three or four hours away from Sydney; the traffic was moderate.

‘Two cars back is a car that has been taking unnecessary chances, it’s been moving up in the line and looks like it’s going to make another move and get behind us.’

Finlay checked her side mirror then suddenly floored the accelerator going past several cars and squeezing between a truck and a four-wheel drive, horns blared as traffic passed on the other side of the road.

‘Could you be careful please Finlay, I only have one change of underpants with me.’

She chuckled as her eyes flicked to the rear mirror, Finlay moved the car out from behind a truck to see the oncoming traffic, then ducked back in, a semitrailer roared past.

‘He tried again,’ Finlay said, I glanced around only to see a white Ford behind us.

‘What sort of car is it Finlay?’ I said.

‘Looks like a big Ford, dark in colour.’

‘’ He could just be in a hurry, doesn’t mean to say he’s following us.’

‘That’s very true Charlie, I think the first opportunity we get we should pull off and see what he does.’

The road began to raise slightly not much but enough to slow the truck in front, Finlay moved out checking the traffic, a tall truck and several cars flew passed.

‘Hold tight,’ she said flooring it once more; the car leapt forward going past track easily leaving a large gap in the traffic. We sped away; traffic zoomed past on the other side stopping the dark ford from overtaking.

We both saw the side road at the same time.

‘Hold tight,’ she said softly, braking, jiggering the steering into a slide which I thought would be the envy of many rally drivers.

We hit the gravel in a cloud of dust and small stones, she tweaked the wheel in the opposite direction and we straightened up, it was foot down, racing the Subaru racing through the gears, then after about two kilometres she slowed down.

‘Any idea where we are?’ she said casually.

’Nowhere near a toilet I bet., I said smiling.

She laughed, I liked her laugh it was deep and sexy.

‘Find a place to park, somewhere off the road where we won’t be seen if a dark Ford happens to pass…’

We parked in an entrance to a dry dusty open piece of land sparsely decorated with stunted trees and outcroppings of rock, between the fence and the road was a thicket of trees and shrubs, whoever owned the land, had cut a fire break between the fence and the trees, we backed in hidden from the road.

After searching the wallets, I had put them in a small plastic bag intending to hide them. I was about to get out of the car to bury them when I heard a car. We had parked on a bend of the gravel road, the car raced around the left hand bend throwing dust into the air. Finlay and I looked at each other; it had been the dark Ford, two minutes later he came racing back slewing round the bend and disappearing.

‘Yours or mine?’ We said together heading to the back of the car and searching our bags.

’It has to be mine; they put it in while I was in the hospital, I emptied my bag, running my hand around the inside, It was in the left hand lining, I threw a couple of rocks for weight.

‘There’s a car coming, from up the road, I’ll stop it see if you can lose that; it sounds like a diesel.’

She meant it could be a work truck, it was.

Finlay unzipped her jacket and went onto the road waving to the Ute, it screeched to a halt in a cloud of dust; before it had stopped I had tossed the bag into the back amongst ladders and toolboxes and other paraphilia of a tradesman.

Finlay leant close to the driver as he wound down his window, for a moment they were both enveloped in brown dust, waving away the fine debris, she spoke for a few minutes then waved goodbye, Finlay then came back wiping the dust from her face.

’If we continue we will come to a main road, I don’t know where though, this country gets bigger the longer I stay.

After burying the wallets and passports we drove out onto the gravel road leaving a plume of dust behind us hoping those who were following would track down the bug put in my bag, now in the back of the Ute.

The road twisted and turned sometimes going through shallow creeks, cows and sheep fed on winter grass in competition with the odd bunch of kangaroos.

‘I don’t know what I am going to do Charlie,’ Finlay suddenly said, ‘I will have to go back some time.’

I have two phones, one untraceable, the other linked to the agency. It was time I called in to get some advice.

A woman answered, I gave her the code and she put me through to Mortimer, the new Deputy Director of our small branch of ASIO.

’’Haven’t heard from you for a couple of day‘s Mister Kapps.’

‘Yeah been a bit busy, has the clear up squad been up the mountain yet?’

‘Went in today, said they couldn’t find any ID on them, rather strange don’t you think?’

‘Not really, why would they carry stuff like that around, although I did hear that one worked for a Security Firm., I told him the name,’ there came a tapping of keys.

‘What do I do with this MI5 person, has there been any more developments,’ I refrained from mentioning the bug in my bag.

‘I’ll get back to you on that, I’ll be talking to them at the appropriate time, when they get out of bed in other words. I’ll be in touch – leave your phone on.’

‘Your fate,’ I said to Finlay, ‘is to be decided when your boss gets out of bed.’

It was getting dark by the time we found the highway, it had been a long day with nothing resolved or concluded, no one seemed to care that I had killed three men, I found this odd, maybe I’m a bit naive, to think that civilians could get away with killing Since I had been on the job there had been nigh on ten men killed, in uniform its expected, perhaps I have just changed into a different uniform.

We were heading towards the coast, not directly, but travelling northeast, looking for a restaurant and a hotel. It had been a bright and sunny winter’s day and now cooling down. We found a small town in the midst of a farming community, most of the vehicles we had seen were Ute’s, trucks, SUV’s, the cars, probably farmers wives were covered in dust and a few dents. I parked got out and stretched away the stiffness.

The phone vibrated in my pocket, I answered it. Finlay was pointing down the street; I nodded.

‘Durham, Charlie, how’s your health?’ He asked.

I knew what he meant, ‘a bit sore in some places, but it’s getting there.’

‘I was told of the incident in the mountains, who were they?’

‘Two foreigners and an Aussie.’

‘Did you leave…?’

‘No we left nothing behind and I dumped the wallets and passports, I marked the spot,’ I heard him chuckle, ‘I just didn’t want to get caught with them, the Aussie worked for a local firm.’

‘You can tell me more tomorrow Charlie.’

‘Is this line secure,’ I asked.

‘Yes, as secure as we can make it, can’t be sure now days, how far are you from Sydney?’

‘A couple of hours, maybe three.’

‘Where are you?’

‘North of Pine Ridge.’

‘Can you be at Wallsend; it’s near Newcastle tomorrow about ten o’clock?’

‘Yes, where?’

‘Varty Park on Swanson Street.’

‘The both of us?’

‘Yes, tomorrow then.’

We found a motel and Finlay, sending me a subtle a message had her own room, no hanky- panky she was saying.

Leaving early we arrived at Swanson Street at nine thirty; I circled the park looking for something unusual, a car with its occupants just sitting, watching, it was a bit ironic because I did the same, waiting for Durham. At two minutes past ten a silver BMW drove into the parking area, out stepped Durham casually dressed in a white shirt, grey sweater and dark trousers, he looked over at us and then made his way to a covered picnic table, we followed. When seated and the introductions made I told him about Parks Security.

‘It could be nothing, he could have been working on his own,’ I said.’

‘But he arrived armed,’ Finlay said, ‘and in that weather he wasn’t there for a picnic and where did he pick up the other two, I thought they were under surveillance and when challenged they just turned on us – no hesitation,’ Finlay said without a glance in my direction.

‘How did they know where you were?’ Durham asked quietly.

‘My bag was bugged; it must have been done in the hospital,’ two on the bike and one in the bag, I thought, could be an Irishman – to be sure.

There was a brief silence as we digested the implications.

‘There is something else I want you to do; it will give you an excuse to get out of the area.’

I held up my hand, ‘first things first John, why are we meeting here?’

‘I was wondering when you were going to ask that. The office is being redecorated,’ he gave me a smile, also there are cuts in our budget, some reorganisation, same old thing, do more with less help.

Finlay smiled and said, ‘yes we do that when we want to check for cockroaches and other bugs.’

‘Do you really, think it might be easier just to have a sweep,’ we all smiled at that.

‘On a more serious note Grahame has been shot,’

‘Shit I thought he was keeping his head down for a few weeks, how bad was it?’

Not too serious, he’ll live.’

‘Any ideas?’

‘Maybe,’ he looked at Finlay Duncan, ’Miss Duncan I have been in touch with your superiors they asked me to put a proposition to you, they have an Australian Secret Service agent working with them at this moment he’s been following a Moslem cleric, told customs he was going on holiday – in the UK in winter, I don’t think so. At this moment they don’t know what the cleric is up to, but all parties are working together, if you can believe that, do you understand what I am saying?’

‘I’m a Scot but I do speak English, yes of course, you scratch my back and I’ll ignore yours,’ Finlay said.

‘They are reluctant to move him back here so they put it to me that I ask if you would stay here for a while longer and help us; sort of an exchange.’

‘That depends what you have in mind.’

He turned to me.

‘Charlie what do you remember about that yacht you people bought back?’

‘Not much, I was out of it for most of the time,’ I didn’t tell him about the phone call from Allen Marks brother in law.

John Durham hesitated, debating what to tell us.

‘It’s a bit complicated.’

‘If the Government had a hand in it it’s bound to be, why don’t the Northern Territory Police look into it?’

‘It happened when you guys were asked to go in; it was a case of one department not speaking to another. As for the police, an MP’s son is involved as we all know so the more departments involved the greater the risk of a leak.’

‘Really! That would never happen in my country.’ Finlay said with exaggerated seriousness.

‘Really,’ I said in the same tone.

‘Yeah okay,’ John Durham said grinning. Then he continued,

‘You should have been told that we were monitoring all private boats going to or from PNG or Indonesia.’

’Why? Were you looking for drugs?’ Finlay asked.

‘Yes and for something else.’ Duncan said.

‘Illegal immigrants,’ I suggested.

’Yes that too, the drug trafficking is in the hands of the drug squad.

Just outside Darwin about twenty k’s there was once a nursery, it dealt with mostly native plants and a few from neighbouring countries, orchids and the like. It got wiped out when a Cyclone struck Darwin and the owners never rebuilt. Now someone has put in a small runway and there has been some activity around the place. About eighteen months ago there were reports of Asian’s in the area, when the police investigated they found evidence of occupation, what they discovered led to ASIO getting involved.’

‘What did they find?’ I asked.

’‘Three bodies.’

‘Terrorists?’ Finlay Duncan said.

‘Yes, a large amount of explosives were found along with detonators and other bomb making materials.’

‘And you think it was coming from Indonesia.’

‘No, the explosives were old, we don’t think they were recently imported – one of the dead men had been found by dingos as they were buried in shallow graves,’ Durham said.

‘How were they killed?’ Finlay asked.

‘Shot, by rifle, there were cartridges from a pistol scattered about; we think there was a shootout, the nursery was old, but we found recent purchases – plastic water bottles, empty tins of fruit and Esky’s.’

‘What’s an Esky?’ Finlay Duncan asked.

‘She’s a Pom,’ I said,’ you English call them coolers I believe.’

‘What did the autopsy show?’ I asked

‘Good question,’ Durham said, ‘and here’s the big clue – two of them had tattoos on their lower lip.’

‘Triads, runway, small planes, it sounds like a departure lounge,’ Finlay said.

‘So who did they upset,’ I asked.

‘Rumour has it that it was a camp for illegal wild life trafficking, the Triads turned up, where else were they going to go, it was an ideal position, so they fought for it.’ ’

‘The planes…’ I began

‘Flew under the radar most of which is pointing out to sea.’

‘So how do the Triads get past the customs?’ I asked, thinking I knew the answer.

‘Fortunately, that is yet to be our problem.’ Durham said. ‘Let’s get back to the boat.’

‘Were we under surveillance all the time?’ I asked.’

‘It seems so, didn’t you find it odd that the couple on the boat were unharmed.’

‘They were in on it.’ I said.

‘We are not sure, but at one time in that deep creek they were taken off and put in a hut. Did the yacht have to go back and if they were pirates, why didn’t they kill the pair and take the boat? They didn’t do either, you guys bought it back, so now we are none the wiser – and we’d like to be.’

’Has anybody been over the boat? ’Finlay asked.

’Customs took a dog over it but found nothing, no drugs, nothing, just a couple of marijuana stubs, the youngsters took on board.

‘And you are telling us all this because?’ I said.

‘We want you to look into it, shake the tree see what falls out,’ He looked at Finlay Duncan and said. ‘The both of you, there is of course no obligation of your behalf to do this; you can go home if you want to. As I said it has been cleared with MI5.’

Durham and I both looked at Finlay.

’Well London is beginning to warm up and Darwin is cooling down, if you can call thirty odd degrees and eighty per cent humidity cool and I have never been to WA so why not.’

I refrained from telling her Darwin was not in Western Australia, but in the Northern Territory It didn’t matter to me if she came or not, I like working on my own, but she could turn on the charm when talking to men, it wouldn’t work the same way for me; well not with all men perhaps.’

‘I’d like to interview the two on the boat, didn’t have much chance before, because if it has nothing to do with the boat, it must be the crew.’ I said.

‘Peter Lovell and Rosetta Campini, they are living in Queensland at this moment, I can get you the address.’ Durham said.

‘I don’t understand, they were missing you say for three days, what were they doing all that time?’ Finlay Duncan said.

’Maybe the crew had no option, maybe something or someone got held up and we took the yacht away before whatever it was could be delivered.’

We discussed what we should do and settled on Finlay and myself going to Darwin to check out the marina where the boat was hired from.

I then approached the question of money, there was enough in my account but retrieving some might flag our position; Durham pointed out that one withdrawal in a certain location would not reveal where we were going next. I agreed with him.

Chapter Eighteen

‘It’s a lovely day, and to think its winter, this would be a summer’s day in England, if we were lucky.’

We were on the New England highway with Tamworth behind us and Armidale in front.

‘Wait until you get further north, then you can say it’s hot.’

‘I’m hungry,’ She said, ‘I fancy a thick steak medium rare with onions and French fries.’

‘I’ll see what I can do, I know a good pub in Armidale that does a terrific steak,’ I said.

We could have flown from Sydney to Darwin but I had to speak to Peter Lovell and he was on the Sunshine Coast, with a bit of luck we’ll be there late tomorrow, then fly from Brisbane.

After the pub meal Finlay drove, we talked about mundane things, like how many people have you killed and have you ever seen your Prime Minister naked. She wouldn’t answer on security grounds.

It was late when we booked into a motel close to the NSW border, as usual Finlay booked her own room. Laying on the bed my mind too busy to sleep I tried to sort out this business with the yacht, we were all missing something. Customs found nothing, no arms or drugs - nothing. Going to the bathroom I checked out my wounds, they were healing nicely, just faint red scars. I went back to bed and thought about the car that had tailed us; who was it and what did they want? My last thoughts turned to my family.

Mum and Dad, Uncle Paul, my dad’s brother and Ginny his wife. The last I heard Mum and Dad were in Canada. Tommy, my Dad, was doing something with a department in the Canadian government, when asked what it was there was a lot of ‘umming and ahing,’ you know same old thing – but no-one knew, only Mum I suppose. She was a Mathematician lecturing in some University or other. I miss them all and so I resolved to visit Uncle Paul and Ginny at their place at the bottom of Springbrook Mountain soon.

The next day we had breakfast in Queensland. Having found a decent coffee shop we had the all-day breakfast then it was my turn to drive. The M1 Highway took us most of the way, from the Gold Coast through Brisbane and further north. The whole of the Sunshine Coast was noted for its beaches and holiday resorts. Further inland more tourist’s routes, mountains, fruit, nut and pineapple farms even the odd vineyard.

Durham had e-mailed the address of Peter Lovell it was in Gympie to the north of the famous resort of Noosa.

The drive awakened painful memories of Morgan and the nursery that lay an hour’s drive west of the highway. My stomach churned like a washing machine spilling up into my throat making me want to retch as I thought about that day.

It was seven thirty and dark by the time we hit Gympie. Up in Queensland it gets dark around 6:00pm. It didn’t take us long to find Peter Lovell’s place. It was a small brick and tiled house with a neglected garden

Rosetta answered the door dressed in jeans and a casual white sweater.

‘Yes,’ she said wondering what we were selling or preaching.

‘Is Peter home?’ I asked.

There was a sudden lifting of suspicion replaced with one of recognition; her hand went to her mouth.

‘Oh, you’re that man on the boat.’ she smiled and stood aside, ‘come in Peter will be surprised,’ Rosetta called out his name.

Peter poked his head around the kitchen room door.

’Well hallo,’ Peter said smiling at me grabbing my hand and vigorously shaking it.

‘Come in, it’s great to see you,’ indicating for me to take a seat.

‘This is Finlay.’ I said introducing her.

’Well you’re looking better than when I saw you last.’ Rosetta said.

’Yes with some thanks to you.’

‘Can I get you anything,’ Peter said.

‘Nothing Peter, I’m here to ask you about the boat you hired In Darwin.’

’What about the boat?’ Rosetta said.

‘Would you go through the hiring process, was there anything unusual about it.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Peter and Rosetta looked at each other for confirmation.

’There was Peter, do you remember the boat we originally were going to hire had a broken forestay or something and the young man said he wouldn’t be happy with the boat if we tool it.’

’Oh yes, didn’t he say he was filling in for someone else?’

It was suddenly beginning to make sense, they had taken the wrong boat, so was the yacht going to pick up something and if so who would crew it, was it the crew or something on the boat, were the Pirates informed, or was it a surprise at finding Peter a Rosetta on board.

‘Were you at anchor when you were boarded?’ Finlay said.

‘Yes we were both forward,’ Rosetta said, ‘we felt the boat move, rocking. At first we thought it was a small wave, we felt it before, it happens at sea. Peter went to check, that’s when all these black men came through the door telling us to be quiet and we wouldn’t be hurt if we did as we were told’

’‘What happened when you got to the Creek,’ I said.

‘We were kept on the boat until a 4x4 arrived, then we were taken to a nasty smelling hut on the beach. We were there for couple of hours then taken back to the boat.’ Peter said.

‘Then all the shooting started,’ Rosetta said.

‘You know the rest,’ Peter said, ‘except the men from the 4X4 and the pirates had a bit of an argument.’

‘They were pointing at us and shouting,’ Rosetta said.

After a few more questions we said our good-byes, Rosetta gave me a hug and thanked me kissing me on the cheek.

‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t turned up.’’ Peter said.

Back on the Bruce highway and heading south Finlay said.

‘Was that worth the trip?’ She said.

‘Well you’ve seen some of our lovely Sunshine State haven’t you?’

’Yes and it is lovely, so big and warm, apart from the tourist promotion of how good it is here, I had this feeling that a little piece fell into place, am I right.’

‘Yes and I know where we can get some money.’ I said, the cash we took from the dead men was nearly gone.

‘You do – we call them a hole in the wall, you I believe call them ATM’s.’

‘Oh no, this is called a hole in a barbeque.’

I flashed her a quick smile.

‘I am not selling sausages from a piece of rusty metal on the road side just to earn a few dollars.’

I chuckled, ‘you don’t have to do anything but keep watch,’ I said.

‘You’re not going to rob a bank?’

‘Not a bank, but rob someone I hope, that’s if he is still in the business.’

‘Oh no I am going to end up in an Aussie jail.’

‘About four years ago we, the squad I was in, had an exercise in a rain forest near here,’ I did not mention what lay at the end of the gravel road that separated the forest, Morgan’s nursery.

‘The usual thing, we had to go to one side of the forest to the other without being seen by strategically placed observers. The trick was to find the observers before they found you.’

‘How exciting,’ she mused.

‘Well,’ I said ignoring her, ‘I stopped about a hundred and fifty meters from a gravel road at the rear end of someone’s yard, from the road the land dipped to the extent that the roofs of the houses were level with the road.’

‘How exciting,’ Finlay murmured.

‘I do my best.’ I conceded.

‘I was resting, debating which side of the house to go to when an overweight man came down the yard and stopped at an electric barbeque. One of those you see in National parks you push a button and it heats up, oh I’m sorry you don’t have them do you?’

Finlay looked at me with a small curl of her lip.

‘I suppose you just order in a curry, save you going out and getting frost bite or drowning in all that rain you have. I digress – it was dark so he had a torch, I saw him unlock the door that housed the heater and put in a large packet of what I thought to be white powder and money, wads of it.’ I now had Finlay Duncan’s attention.

‘How exciting.’ I said pinching her line.

Thirty minutes later we turned off the highway and into the small town of Yandina, the Bruce highway once passed through it, then they built the bypass and trade suffered.

There wasn’t much doing in town, about halfway through I turned right.

‘They’re odd little towns aren’t they’ Finlay said, ‘where are we going?’

‘Through a state park, part of which is rainforest, lots of palms and other trees. I have never been very good with gardening terms.’

Morgan thought it funny the questions I asked. Soon the bitumen turned to gravel and at the end, kilometres away, it went back to a short bitumen road before it joined the mountain road. On that strip of tar were six houses, one of them was were Morgan had been brutally murdered.

’‘It’s been a while, I hope I can find it,’ I said.

The road twisted and turned, remembering that there was a turn off to the left just past the houses.

’What are you laughing at,’ Finlay Duncan said.

‘We turn up here somewhere, the road leads to Bottle and Glass Mountain.’

Finlay laughed.

I found the house and parked further down the bend in the road.

’Now this is important, give me your phone number, better still put it in my phone while I get ready, I opened the door and went to the boot, ‘and put mine in yours, the phone number I mean,’ I think I heard some sort of expletive.

Back in the car I smothered myself in repellent and put on a dark jacket, checked I had my picks and small LED torch, I also had two blue shopping bags and a pair of gloves, which I put on.

’When I call you, turn the car around- no lights - and go past the houses, there are three, I’ll meet you there; okay.’

’Yes boss.

“At last you’re learning.’

Next to the house on the end was a cleared plot of land it was now slowly reverting, the forest was taking back its own. Tall grass, small shrubs and trees spouted here and there. Keeping one eye on the house, there were lights still on; I made my way off the road and down through the scrub. Halfway across the plot it was boggy as the rainfall would have found its natural level, I looked back and found myself below the level of the gravel road. The land sloped towards the start of the rain forest. I crossed a small stream at the bottom and clambered up into the dark vegetation, the insects hearing me had briefly ceased their chatter, once inside I stood listening, nothing is silent, above me I could hear the rustling of palm leaves as the wind picked up, below at ground level night creatures slithered, crawled and hunted, occasionally I heard a small squeal, something was having dinner; I made my way to the back yard of the last house carefully, for the sloping ground was slippery with rotting vegetation, I was about ten metres inside the forest and about twenty from the back fence. I checked my watch, it was past eleven o’clock, then the insects began to chat and shrill again.

The night was cool and the aroma of the understory smelt of dampness and rotting leaves, I was glad of having long sleeves because even though it was winter the mossies were still looking for food. Crouching down I studied the area, the owner had dumped rubbish over his fences, grass cuttings, palm leaves; I even saw what I thought to be a couple of tyres and a mattress. As my eyes became more accustomed to the dark I could make out a pale square object, maybe a fridge or a washing machine.

From my pocket I took out a small pair of binoculars and focused on the house, it was a high set with a veranda at the back. To the right parked in a carport was a Ute with some sort of equipment on the tray, I swotted away some large insect that had taken a fancy to my left ear, the noise I could hear from the television ceased. I heard a toilet flush, a down stairs light came on, I refocused, the man knew the yard well, there was no need for a torch not yet, he carried what looked like large a tool bag; stopping at the barbeque he looked around at the other houses, they were dark, showing no lights. Satisfied, he bent down and unlocked the steel door. Before empting the bag he had one last look around, he began to empty the tool bag, I wondered if I had bought enough bags. There was about thirty metres between us, closer in the glasses.

Last out of the bag were two large packets of white powder; the wind was stronger sending small showers of debris from above. Closing the door he went back to the house; I waited watching the lighted windows. There were two left, then the toilet flushed again and then there was one; it was half past eleven. Suddenly the small patch of light went out and there was darkness. I stood getting life back in my legs, ten minutes later I began to move towards the yard. The fence not surprisingly was rotten, being so close to the forest it wasn’t surprising, unless treated, termites would reduce the palings to just a thin skin.

Brushing aside the rotten wood I crept into the yard, the ‘safe’ was about two metres away, taking out my picks I fiddled for a few seconds and the door opened, keeping an eye on the house, I filled the two bags. What the denominations of the rubber-banded wads of money were, I couldn’t see, Christ I thought there’s a small fortune here. Pushing my gloved hand father into the black hole I felt plastic bags, I counted four.

Grabbing two then locking the door I silently walked up the path to the Ute. The plumbing gear in the back was just a façade I doubt they had been used for months, as quietly as I could I separated a stack of buckets and put the two bags of white powder in the bottom, then replaced the other buckets. It was time to leave so as I walked the slope up to the road I rang Finlay.

The outline of the car came slowly towards me, I gave a quick flash of my LED torch, and I heard the boot open. I heaved the bags in then I gently closed the lid and got into the passenger seat.

Chapter Nineteen

At the Motel we had separate rooms again; I was beginning to get the message. Next morning we left early getting into Brisbane before nine am. The first thing we did was to buy some summer clothes.

On the way to the airport I stopped at a self-storage depot I had rented several years earlier, it measured two metres by three, small but sufficient. Taking the two money bags in I put one in a small cupboard, the other I emptied into two plastic bags and put them into sports bag.I did a quick check and found nothing missing. The clothes on a hanger covered with plastic were undisturbed the small metal box containing guns and ammo were also intact. Locking up I left and drove to the airport where I made a call to Derrick Murray to pick up his car; I left a handful of cash in the glove compartment, I also gave Finlay a bag of money.

‘I can’t take this,’ she said, quickly covering it up with the hat that she had bought to keep the Darwin sun off.

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s stolen.’

‘Don’t be silly Finlay, I took it from a drug dealer, I rang the cops and told them where to find the drugs. So no one will miss it.’

‘How are we going to get this through customs?’

‘We book business class, show our cred’s and walk through. Your M15 ID will get them going and if they make a phone call so much the better.’

‘There must be twenty thousand dollars here,’ she said in an awe stuck voice.

‘Nearer seventy.’

‘WHAT! ’

We naturally paid cash for our tickets; I told Finlay it was my treat and that she could hire the car in Dwain, I had the best deal, I think.

When we showed the booking clerk our I D’s we were shown through, normally I wouldn’t do that preferring to remain anonymous.

During the four-hour flight I thought about the woman beside me, her tallish slender frame sat relaxed, her head was turned looking out the window, she had done nothing but treat me and act as a professional. I will admit my ego was a bit bruised but what the hell you can’t win them all.

‘Do you have a boyfriend back home?’ I asked just to make conversation.

Her head turned quickly way from the window.

‘No I don’t.’

The look in her eye and the hard set of her features told me not to go there.

‘Just trying to make conversation,’ I murmured leaning back and closing my eyes.

I felt her fidget in her seat, a second or two passed.

‘Do you have a girlfriend,’ she said lightly.

‘No nor a boyfriend.’

‘Not the best job to have relationships is it?’

I only half heard her, my mind was conjuring up Morgan crouched behind the car as the men above us opened fire on the crowd of diners in Park Street. Her eyes were wide and her hands were over her ears, she looked up at me, face-registering shock; it was at that moment I fell in love with her.

‘There was someone wasn’t there?’ Finlay said quietly.

‘We’ll be landing soon.’ I said not opening my eyes.

Chapter Twenty

As usual we had separate rooms, we chose an up market Hotel not far from the harbour - well we could afford it. After hiring a car and getting directions to the Yacht basin we, we scouted out the area, then hungry and thirsty parked our Toyota in a pub car park.

I had watched Finlay’s reaction when we walked out of the airport and into the Darwin heat.

‘Bloody hell,’ I heard her say under her breath.

’Now we sat in the air-conditioning her with her gin and tonic me with my beer.

‘Why have we come here Charlie?’ She asked sipping her drink.

‘I have my suspicions, we were told to find out what went on aboard the boat, whether you believe that or not….’

‘Why us and what can we do?’

‘You haven’t figured that out yet and you an MI5 agent.’

Finlay looked down at the plastic table and fiddle with her glass.

‘Okay what have I missed?’

‘There is a parallel here,’ I said.

’‘A parallel – no shit you believe in a parallel universe’

I could see she was trying not to smile which, if she had, would have been welcome as I have yet to see her do so.

‘You remember those men who came to say hallo to us in the mountains – with the big guns?’

‘Don’t be sarcastic Charlie; where are you going with this?’

’Before I could answer she said.

‘Want another beer?’

I pushed my empty glass over.

She was wearing the clothes she had bought in Brisbane, sleeveless white cotton top, denim shorts and black flat-heeled shoes, it caused the other pub patrons to take furtive looks over their beers at those long shapely legs.

Putting down the drinks she said, ‘what were you saying about being paranoid.’

I smiled, a sense of humour no less, cut to the chase I thought.

‘Did you get a look at the guys tailing us?’

‘I thought they were Asians.’

‘A little while ago a bunch of Triads came looking for a man who had killed the son of one of their bosses, they lost a few more in the process, It’s the same with what’s happening to you, call it what you like, getting even, revenge, it’s all about losing face and they can’t afford to do that, it’s a sign of weakness, so far the triad boss has lost one son in jail and two dead’ he can’t allow that to happen.

‘So you think we have been -what?’

’Our side cannot afford to watch our backs there’s so much else to do, so, we have been sent up here out of harm’s way, if you think that is the reason of course and to look into what been happening and I think I know what it is – well almost.

Chapter Twenty One

‘Has anyone else been round?’ the son of the bait shop owner asked; next to him stood his mate a part aboriginal youth sucking on a small bottle of beer.

‘No, they didn’t find anything so why should they,’ the old man was angry; it wasn’t his fault it had turned out like it did.

‘This is not going to come down on us dad is it?’

’If it does it’s your fault you gave ’em the boat,’

‘Got any beer mister…’

The old man went to an old exercise book where he kept the bookings for the boats, inside was a clipping of newspaper, he read it again and slowly shook his head, the thought of talking to the police about it didn’t enter his mind, he knew that if he did he would end up like this – a few paragraphs in a paper that no one would care about.

The son saw his dad was worried, ‘what you think’s gunna happen dad, it wasn’t our fault.’

I know son, but there’s money been spent and certain people aren’t happy.

Chapter Twenty Two

Finlay was dabbing her face with a white handkerchief and we were only walking to the car.

‘It’s just nice, the weather I mean,’ I said revelling in Finlay’s discomfort in the Darwin humidity. She lifted her sunglasses and dabbed at her eyes.

‘How do people cope with this?’ She said seeking some shade as we walked towards the quay.

‘This is only winter Finlay,’ I said, not admitting I was feeling a bit sticky myself.

‘When are you going to tell me the rest of your theory Charlie, I miss being entertained.’

Ignoring her I said.

‘Are you up for this, can you remember what we discussed?’

She turned on me, standing up close I could see the beads of perspiration on her lovely unblemished English skin.

‘I maybe hot but I’m not stupid and even if I don’t agree with what you have planned, I’ll go along with you just to show how wrong you are.’

‘You’re leaking.’ I said touching her face with my finger.

‘Don’t touch,’ she said taking a step back her grey eyes blazing.

‘Oh, hot under the collar too.’

‘Let’s just get this done shall we.’

’The moorings are not far, it’s on Frances Bay road, westward from here, the car was stifling hot and Finlay was reluctant to get in, it took a few minutes before the car’s interior was anywhere near comfortable.

About fifteen minutes later we found the boat moorings. They lay in a sheltered bay with a narrow entrance. We drove past a small park, the usual water front shops sat facing the harbour, cafés, restaurants, deli’s selling fish and chips, ship’s chandlers, boat repairers and bait and tackles shops, all vied for business. We found a yacht hire service but passed by, giving it the once over.

The jetties were a mass of boats both motor driven and sailing. Masts of all sizes reached up to the clear blue sky, their rigging flapping and clinking in the strong breeze.

The hut that hired the boats sat opposite a secure jetty. I checked out the lock on the metal mesh gate, I was right it wouldn’t be too difficult to pick.

We walked the long jetty between the yachts that rocked and rolled, almost as if greeting us, but found no boat called ‘Ibis’.

‘Oi, do you have permission to be here,’ the man called out to us, he wore blue shorts, blue shirt and baseball cap,

. His face was lined and deeply tanned, a typical outdoors man.

‘Do you?’ I challenged.

‘You a member?’ He said.

‘No,’ Finlay said sweetly.

‘Then how did you get in?’

‘The door was open,’ she said.

‘Well you’ve got to leave,’ he was a tall as Finlay and not bad looking.

‘I wonder if you could help us,’ Finlay said standing closer to him, putting on her posh English voice.

‘How?’ the voice had softened somewhat.

’We are looking for our friend’s boat the ‘Ibis’.’

‘It’s not here; it’s usually moored over there,’ he pointed to the next jetty.

‘Thank you very much,’ she gave him a big smile; it was the first I had seen.

The hut on the landing was about 20x20 metres; the outside was hung with crab pots, ropes, oars, buckets and other yachting paraphernalia. We went inside and stood at a wooden counter that sat parallel with the door, another door sat opposite. It something I look for when entering a room or a small building, another way out. Further down along the wall was a freezer cabinet full of bait, a large window encased in security mesh sat in the back wall overlooking the jetty. A thin grey haired man wearing a blue vest and dark trousers was servicing a fishing reel, grey hair spouted from his tanned arms and leg

He reluctantly turned his thin face to us, then wiping his hands in a dirty oily rag, he stood. I let Finlay make the first move, while I had a look around. Behind the counter in the corner was bench with a couple of dirty mugs, a kettle some jars, which I presumed held coffee and sugar, a microwave cooker and a small fridge completed the sad dining area. At the back of the bench against the wall amidst the mess lay a couple of old yachting and fishing magazines.

The room was crowded with tackle, rods, lures and other fishing gear. Standing there in the middle of it all I had an odd feeling, my scalp began to tingle, a shiver went up my back, I thought I heard a noise outside the other door, voices, someone was talking.’

‘What can I do for you?’ the man in his fifties was saying...’

Finlay turned it on again, ‘oh hallo,’ she said standing under a fan.

‘What’s your name, I do hate talking to people without being introduced don’t you, I’m Sally,’ she cooed.

‘Tom,’ he said, ‘what can I do for you folk?’

I let her do the talking while looked around some more.

’We are looking for a boat our friends recommended.’

At this point I gave the man my full attention, watching his reaction, I got one.

‘What’s the name of the boat?’

’The ‘Ibis’,’ Finlay said sweetly.

‘There’s no yacht of that name here,’ Tom said, quite emphatically.

‘Oh, she was quite specific; she said she hired it from you.’

At that moment the other door opened and in came two men both in there middle twenties, the taller of the two had a thin unshaven face and lank brown hair, he was wearing a green tee shirt and long beige shorts. He was taller than his father Tom. The other man was part aborigine, shorter than his friend and was wearing a blue vest and black shorts, his hair was black and curly; both were wearing sunglasses.

Two paces in, they stopped.

’They’re looking for a boat called the ‘Ibis’, told them we don’t have it, never have,’ the grey hair man called Tom said.

The two men took off their glasses.

’Who ‘are you?’ The son said.

‘Nobody you need to know,’ I said steeping closer.

‘Well,’ said the son’s mate, ‘you had better fuck off then, don’t want you round here.’

Finlay gently took hold of my arm.

‘Oh darling, a couple of bottom feeders.’

’Yeah smell like it to, I said, ‘now what are you not telling us Tom?’

This time Tom’s son took a step closer, lowering his voice in what he thought was menacing and poked my chest, I felt Finlay step to her left closer to Tom.

‘Now I’ve asked you once who are you?’

‘You’re not the cops are you?’ His mate said in a high chirping voice.

‘If we were you would have been locked up by now,’ I said.

‘Then you had better piss off.’ Tom said thumbing towards the door, ’or my Son and his mate will chuck you out.

I saw Finlay’s bag slip off her shoulders and subtly get into position, I was doing the same as that surge I was now getting used to, began flow through me.

‘You put your hands on my lady and I’ll break your arm,’ I said it quite matter of fact.

‘Mister,’ said the sons mate, ‘you had better go before…’

I saw him reach behind his back, I came off my left foot pushing hard my right foot smashing into his chest over his heart, he staggered back his eyes wide and rolling up, his knife fell to the floor, I came back down swaying back from the waist as the other dirt bag flung out a right cross, I came over the top catching him with my fist on the jaw I followed up with my left, hitting him in the throat, it left the young man gasping for air. The lad with the knife was regained some life as his heart had missed several beats; I kicked him hard in the balls his scream filled the small shop, for good measure I whacked the other lad on the chin, he fell twitching and unconscious.

Turning, I saw Finlay standing over a moaning son holding his belly as a dribble of blood oozed from his grizzled chin. I crossed the room and went behind the counter and picked up an old exercise book with looked like yacht bookings, there was something else, a cutting from a paper, the headline was, fishing boat owner murdered. Now why would he keep that?

’You are going to get hurt Tom, more than hurt, if you don’t tell us about this, I held up the clipping.

‘It’s nothing, just a local prawn fisherman,’ Tom lied, ‘seen him around, used to buy the odd kilo of him.’

Flipping through the tattered book I came across something which took my attention, it seems my assumptions had been wrong.

‘Tom, I’ll ask you again and be careful what you say,’ I held up the clipping and the book open at the booking of the Ibis, it showed the original hirer’s name.

Tom looked away, sweat dribbled down his lined thin face.

’Tell ’em dad, they won’t know who told them, there not cops are they,’ Tommy’s son sat holding his painful parts.

Finlay looked at the book then at me, a small frown on her face.

Tommy filled in the rest of the story, while I put the paper clipping in my pocket, we left five minutes later.

‘Didn’t see that coming,’ Finlay Duncan said, blotting her brow, ‘can we get a cold drink somewhere?’

‘The Hotel?’

‘Yes please.’

Finlay breathed in the cool air in the hotel lounge; leaving her waving a hand in front of her face I went for drinks.’

‘What’s this?’

‘Lemon, lime and bitters, it will cool you down.’

She took a large mouthful and sighing said, ‘okay how did you work it out?’

‘Simple really, the dead man was Jimmy Turnball – the woman who was to have hired the yacht along with her friend; was Rita Turnball.’

Duncan had another mouthful, ‘she and her friend were going on a trip – her hubby found out and arraigned to kill them and that’s it, so who murdered Jimmy?’

Tasting my boutique beer, leaning back in the leather armchair I said, ‘he must have upset someone, was it the assassin or assassin’s or did the lovers do the deed.’

‘I don’t care; we have an answer to what happed on the boat, now the police can handle it.’

I wasn’t really listening; from where I sat I could see reception and the clerk who had answered the phone and how she looked straight at me when doing so, our eyes met and she looked away then put the phone down, she then began to fiddle with papers on the desk. She must have felt my stare because in a moment of weakness she looked up meeting my gaze, she flushed and turned away.

‘Charlie what’s the matter?’ Finlay said following my line of sight, she read my mind, ‘‘no, someone was asking about you – us.’

‘Could be nothing, in this game paranoia is not uncommon, what do you think? You have a theory I asked.’

‘Someone was asking about you, are you going to ask at the desk?’

‘I think, that old shit Tommy has phoned someone to cover himself.’

’Mm, could be right, ’nodding as she lifted her glass, ‘want another?’

’I might go to the cop’s about the murder, ’I said.

‘You don’t want me to come with you?’

‘Not unless you really want to, or of course you cannot bear to be parted from me - or I might just phone save me a journey.’

‘I’ll stay here.’

Stopping at reception I asked the young girl who had taken the call, where the cop shop was, not meeting my eyes and blushing she gave directions, it was out of town.

You see in films or read in novels that the hero gets a tingle up his spine if he or she is being followed – bullshit; during training we are put through an exercise where we have to walk from A to B on a busy street, the object is to find how many – if any people, are following you and the follower has to note how many times you turn round to check. It is just as important to not know you are being followed as it is to know, the results were interesting, some picked out innocent people and missed the genuine stalkers, others were so obvious in looking for followers it was hilarious. The opposite was just as important, following someone and not being seen. It was a new way of looking at things, don’t concentrate on one thing, broaden your aspect and take in everything.

Having thought all that I had the distinct feeling as I went to the car park of being watched, no tingle down the spine, but what could it be to make me feel that way. When taking in everything within your scope of vision, you try to recall what it was that you saw that was out of place. Without turning you try and recap the scenes and determine what is wrong with the picture. The thought of missing something then can cause some apprehension. It may be something small it may not, it may be one of my increasing uncharacteristic behaviour patterns, speed, strength, and now some sort of mental thing. It did have its advantages, I knew without looking that there was someone watching, something I would have dismissed years ago; was it experience or fantasy, was that rush of adrenalin that now heightened my senses false.

I looked at the girl receptionist for a few seconds longer than necessary; I could see she felt uncomfortable with this and was anxious to have me gone, so I asked a question.

‘Miss is there a back entrance?’ She answered too quickly, pleased to assist or to get rid of me, she gabbled of the route to the door and I left.

The lift took me down to the kitchen and then through a narrow passageway to a push bar door, I hesitated, was in fitted with an alarm. I didn’t find out as I reached out the door was opened by two middle aged women dressed in whites, kitchen hands no doubt, they hardly gave me a look as they chatted away gossiping about what she said and he said and oh dear really.

The door closed with a click, no lock, just a handle and a card swipe. The alley I was in was well lit and covered with a camera, no doubt it once would have been a mugger’s delight.

It was a pleasant warm night and as I found when reaching the end of the short alley, the revellers were already up and about. The night echoed with loud voices, some of laughter others drunken shouting, as usual I was pleased to see the girls wore short skirts and dresses and skimpy tops, the lads shorts and some even wore a shirt, some had their tops around their neck or just waving them about and verbally giving their opinion of the lass’s.

Crossing the road I made my way back towards the Hotel hoping to find a parked car with cigarette smoke billowing from open windows and four nasty looking guys polishing knives and the like, yes it was unlikely, but one can dream and what would I do if I found such a car…

At the far end of the street I came to a busy T-junction, on the other side was a park, the local drug base no doubt, but a good place - if you can find a space to park. From there you have a good view of the comings and goings of the guests in the Hotel - first cross the road.

People sitting in a car on a busy street would probably not draw to much attention, parking on the street in the middle of the night might, so sitting at a bus stop outside the park I took in the parked vehicles, only one stood out, as all the rest were locked and empty. Walking past the car I got its number and went back to the Hotel and went to the desk, the young woman saw me coming and disappeared into a back room, a young man took her place.

‘I’d like to speak to the young lady,’ nodding to the door behind him.

‘Sorry sir she’s unavailable,’ the lad smiled, ‘can I help?’

“Yes – I want to speak to her now.’

‘Sir as I…’

‘I bet there’s a rule, no fraternisation between employee’s,’ I gave him a knowing smile, blinking he gave me an unknowing smile.

“No shagging between staff,’ he fidgeted, blinked some more as his cheeks reddened.

‘Sir I don’t know…’

“Get her or the manager – your choice,’ I looked at his name tag, ‘John.’

For a few seconds I heard whispered voices then a couple came to the desk and jingled the bell, they both came out to meet them. I had checked out her name tag before, ‘Susan’, I said, indicating to go to the end of the desk.

The phone call, tell me about it why are you so scared to talk to me?’

Her pretty tight face, whispered, ‘I’m not.’

‘They asked you what rooms we were in, you said I cannot tell you that and they threatened you – right.’

Susan’s lips curled in as she wrung her hands, she nodded.

‘Did they say anything else?’ I asked quietly.

She rallied somewhat, ‘they said you were wanted by the police.’

‘Oh and what for?’

‘Drugs and murder,’ her eyes where wide, lips trembling as she fought for control.

‘You were put in a nasty position Susan I can understand now why you were reluctant to talk to me.’ Taking out my wallet I searched for the right card, a false police ID, and a card it had a phone number, if she were to ring, it would go to my ‘office’. I passed the card over.

I shouldn’t tell you this and if you tell anyone especially John, you will be in a lot of trouble - I’m an undercover policeman, so is my companion, ring the number if you want to.’

I waited, she looked at the ID, card, then looked up and said.

‘How did you know about John and me?’

The truth was I wasn’t sure, until now.

‘It’s something we check on before booking in,’ I lied.

Susan pushed the ID and card back,’ two of them came in about twenty minutes ago, before you came in,’ she described them.

‘What did they want, bet they didn’t look like cops eh?’

‘They said not to tell you when they came tonight; I think they wanted to know if I would be on duty.’

‘What time do you get off?’

‘Twelve o’clock.’

I flipped the card over, ‘my mobile number, don’t ring the room.’

I looked at my watch 11-26, holly shit I’ve got to move.

‘Susan, ring me if you can, on second thoughts they will be watching you, is there a phone in the back office?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have John ring me from there, you stay at the desk doing things but don’t touch the phone.’

Her sigh was almost audible.

“Who is it,’ Finlay said from the other side of the door.

“father bloody Xmas, open up we are running out of time.’

I didn’t go in, ‘are you packed?’ I asked, not a silly question, unlike couples on holiday who empty their cases, we don’t, never knowing when we have to leave in a hurry.

I interrupted her, ‘tell you in a minute,’ and went to my room. In less than a minute we were standing in the dimly lit hall way Finlay Duncan was still closing her bags, I helped.

She moved to the lifts I grabbed he arm, ‘this way.’ Drawing our weapons and hiding them behind our bags we went to the lift. Checking the small arrow light saw it was blank, I pressed the down light.

‘Bit of a risk Charlie they might be in the lift,’ she had assumed correctly, we were getting unwanted guests.

Finlay stood one side I the other waiting listening to the hum of the rising lift, it stopped and opened – empty, I pressed the button to the kitchen. On the way down I briefed Duncan on what had happened, as we reached the bottom my phone rang, I fished it out of my pocket.

‘Yeah,’ I said walking through a quiet kitchen.

‘Is that you Mr Marshall,’ – well I’m not that silly to use my own name.

‘Yes john.’

‘They\re here, four of them and one at the entrance, I heard them asking Susan if you were in, you were right the man at the door did watch Susie.’

‘Thanks John,’ I hung up, ‘there’re here,’ I said.

‘What are we going to do?’ The MI5 officer asked.

We were walking down the alley, ’any ideas/ I asked her.

‘Get the car and drive away rather quickly,’ she said.

The way she spoke it was more of question than a suggestion.

‘Yes, we could do that, or we could get the car and when they leave, as they will do finding us no longer there, follow them.’

There was just a smidgin of hesitation.

‘I’ll get the car,’ she said.

‘Finlay be careful they might have someone down there.’ We were now on the street; she turned and gave me the look.

I worried about her, john said four went to the rooms and left one downstairs covering the main exit – five, two cars or one big one, I followed Finlay; hurting.

The car park entrance and exit was on the side street, the one I was on. I was in time to see the tall slim figure go through the security door; I fast paced down the slope to the heavy metal mesh roller door. To the side was the pedestrian door with a room card swipe, I used my room card and went in, it was cool and dim, the happy throne of drinkers and other revellers faded behind me. I knew were the car was, my attention though was elsewhere, Glock by my side I padded quietly towards where I thought Finlay to be.

In the shadow of a large waste bin I scanned for her, I heard footsteps, more of a shuffle really. I had chosen this particular position because of its location and the surrounding darkness; it seems someone else had the same idea. I heard a quiet sniff and a fart, then a tinkle of a drink can as it was touched, I crouched down putting my bag on the floor, feeling that now familiar sensation pushing through me, I felt light on me feet, buoyant, it wasn’t just the surge of strength now other senses were kicking in, hearing and now smell.

He wafted my way, sweat; cigarette smoke from a beer swilled mouth, a thumb was pushing buttons, he whispered.

‘I think I’ve seen the woman,’ a brief pause, ’no, this one is trying to hide, but I saw, shall I get her, another pause, ‘okay.’

He was quite near when he rang off. His bulk blocked out half the cars in my line of sight – not for long though, it was bye-byes time for him.

He would never know what hit him, I smacked him hard behind the ear with my pistol, he staggered, I hit him again; I did the usual thing took his wallet and phone then picking up my bag and stepping out from behind the bin I waved Finlay Duncan down as she approached.

Outside on the road she said where we are going? I replied ‘to park in view of the hotel and see what happens. The man I hit was Wally Burgess, he lives in Rockhampton.’

‘What was he doing here then,’ Finlay asked.

‘A hired gun perhaps,’ I said taking out a few dollars from his wallet. There were the usual credit cards and other junk, no pictures of family or girlfriends; I showed Finlay the photo on the driving license.

‘Not the best looking chap is he,’ quickly looking back at the Hotel, ‘what are we doing here Charlie, not still interested in following them are we?’

‘He won’t come out of the car park,’ I said, ‘not unless he has a room card and I don’t think that’s likely – so were will he emerge from.’

“Not getting a conscience are we?’ Finlay said softly.

I turned my attention to the phone.

‘Not a very social man, has a very limited list of numbers, one in particular stands out though, wonder who that is.’

“Charlie,’ her voice had a touch of urgency.

We sat in silence watching two men come out of the Hotel supporting a third who was holding a blooded cloth to his head, they crossed the road and climbed into a light grey car, another two followed getting into an SUV, my phone rang; it was John.

‘Mister Marshall there’re gone, they were very angry with Susan, they asked where you were, she said in their rooms, they swore and got angry again and said you weren’t, where are you?’

He seemed on edge, his speech stilted, unnatural.

‘We are hiding in the basement for ten minutes because someone tried to grab my partner, if it’s all clear we’ll make a run for it, then we’ll be out of your hair.’

Finlay started to ask me about the phone call, I held up my hand with the other I dialled triple 0.

It took several minutes, to bypass the operator and get onto someone in authority, another couple of minutes to convince him of the situation, when finished I added don’t come with sirens blaring.

‘What did he say?’ Finlay Duncan asked.

‘The usual stuff thought I was a joker…’

‘Well you are.’

‘Ah, but a handsome one.’

‘Really, I hadn’t notice.’

‘He’s checking up on me before he makes a decision,’ ignoring her lack of judgment I went on, ‘by that time someone will be dead and it won’t be one of us.’

‘Should we settle down for a long wait, or go and stir the pot a little.’ Finlay said.

‘I thought about it but the police don’t know what we look like and if they ever get here…’

‘Might shoot us,’ Finlay added, ‘of course English police would be here by now,’ she said leaning back and closing her eyes.

‘Mm, sounds about right, let the MI5 guys have a nap on duty.’

One eye opened, ‘if you cannot manage I should only too happy to help an old Aussie ASIO man.’

I replied in a common girly voice, ‘shut up.’

One of the men that had helped his mate to the car was on the phone, signalling to the other man; they went back to the Hotel.

Looks like I was right about John, they had him by the short and curly’s, now where are the bloody cops I thought, they’ll be gone by the time they get here.

Finlay looked at me, her expression asking the question what next.

I sighed, ‘this is really not our problem, we’ve found out the reason for the kidnapping so I reckon we should leave it to the cops.’

‘I have no problem with that,’ she said, ‘let’s find another hotel.’

‘Okay but first we should drop these off at the Hotel desk it may help the police,’ I held up the phone and the wallet.

‘Isn’t that rather risky…’ Finlay Duncan said with a frown.

’Yes, let’s hope they are looking in the basement.

Half an hour later we were booked into another hotel, paying cash for one night, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

My cell phone awoke me at nine thirty, it was Durham.

‘Yeah,’ I said in a stoic answer.

‘Charlie Kapps,’ he asked.

‘Yes boss.’

‘Anything to report; any progress?’

Nothing the cops couldn’t have found out I though, they had a murder yet it seems didn’t solve it. I briefly told him what had happened.

‘Good work. If you’re up to it I have another job for you.’

“OK you’re the boss.’

I want you to look into something in Broome West Australia, I have arranged for a private plane to take you this afternoon, Flight West. I believe they have a hanger somewhere east of the airport.’

‘What‘s it all about Mister Durham,’ I asked.

‘You will be met and given all the information you need.’

‘Is Duncan included?’

‘If she is all right with that, yes.’

‘What time is the flight?’

‘Two thirty.’ He rang off.

We were both on the street at ten fifteen looking for a place to eat breakfast. The main street was busy, noisy, so we opted for a café down what we thought was quite Side Street. Already it was warm and Finlay chose to eat inside.

Finlay ordered tea and the all-day breakfast I did the same but with coffee.

‘I’m hungry,’ she said, that was when I told her about Broome.

‘You took your time,’ she said, ’in telling me.’

‘You can still book a commercial flight,’ I said calling her bluff.

‘You are joking – leave you on your own, anyway it’s a free flight and I have never been to WA.’

Tea and coffee were delivered, stirring my coffee I leant closer to her, ‘have you ever smelt rotten squid, it really stinks, a bit like this jaunt we are about to embark on.’

Cup half-filled, teapot raised, she stopped, what do you mean,’ she whispered, Durham sanctioned it didn’t he?’

‘\Yes he did,’ avoiding her gaze I sipped my coffee.

‘What are you saying Charlie? There was no expression on her face, the teapot was down but she held the handle.’

‘Is this a reason not for me to go, or a very valid reason to go and watch your back?’

Breakfast arrived, bacon two eggs, mushrooms, sausages and tomatoes, it looked good, smelt good and tasted better.

Struggling to speak with a mouthful of egg and bacon Finlay said, ‘can we find a reason not to go?’

Putting down the tomato sauce I said, ’then we shall never know one way or the other.

It was my turn to pay, as we left the café we continued alone the side street like a couple of tourists, peering into shops, trying on baseball caps with the lettering ,Darwin; embroidered across the front, I declined to buy.

‘You carrying,’ I asked.

‘Are you saying I look fat,’ she knew what I meant,’ then picked up on the way I had asked.

‘See that SUV, the dark one; I nodded up the street, three men were standing around it trying not to look conspicuous, probably one in the driver’s seat.’

Finlay anticipated my next line.

‘It was parked near the Hotel, the first one last night.’

We slowed our pace.

‘Did you hear anything about last night - telly, papers?’

‘No,’ she was fiddling with her bag.

‘Try not to use a gun…’ I said.

‘Mace alright,’ she inquired.

‘Sounds fine, I have pepper spray.’

‘Nearly as good, also I am wearing sturdy shoes.’ We were now about thirty metres from the SUV and I felt that welcome tingle, almost like changing gear, flooring the accelerator gathering power and speed.

’You up to this Charlie?”

‘I’ve never felt better,’ I said grinning.

Three metres from the back of the SUV, Finlay stepped of the pavement into the road and to the where the driver was sitting. He was too late, as the door started to open Finlay sprayed him in the face, the scream diverted the attention of the three men, I kicked the man to my left in the solar plexus, next to him his mate’s attention wavering as he heard the escape of stale air beside him; he lunged, the knife passed under my arm I hit him with the pepper spray, his hands went to his face the third man was dithering whether to go to help his mate in the car or stab me. Grabbing the screaming baddie I turned him and pushed him at the third man who was turning back to me; from the corner of his eye he saw a figure about to attack him, so he did the deed, knifing his mate.

I went back to the first man who had decided – fuck the knife I’ll shoot the bastard. I launched into him knocking down the upcoming eight inch knife and hit him aside the face with my right elbow, his eyes rolled up and his body went limp. To my right I heard a thump and a groan, I couldn’t stop I was, feeling fast and powerful. The man I had sprayed was rubbing his eyes trying to focus, I gave him a left and a right to the face and he had a rest on the pavement, I swung to my right ready for the other man only he wasn’t there, Finlay stood over him staring at me, her expression was one of awe and disbelief.

‘You okay?’ I asked my body now going down through the gears.

’Drink? I asked.

‘Yes.’ she said stepping over the sleeping couple.

A crowd had gathered so I thought it best not to take their wallets.

I brought drinks back to the table.

Reading Finlay’s face it was plain that she wasn’t a happy Pom.

She came straight out with it.

‘Are you on drugs?’ Her lovely grey eyes fixed on mine, looking for a lie. At first it didn’t register.

‘What!’ I said, she said nothing just looked.

‘Why do you think I’m on drugs?’

‘I saw what happened with those men.’

‘And I’m drugs for defending myself?’

‘No, because of the way you did it, I had hardly dealt with the driver…’

‘No, I’m not on drugs Finlay I’ll explain one day, but no I don’t dabble.’

’Okay, but it’s the second time…

\Are you referring to the shoot out?’

‘Yes, it was like a machine gun going off.’

I sat pretending to think about it, ‘I think it’s nearly time to go.’

She held up her hand.

‘Those men who attacked us, were they the same as last night.’

“The SUV was and if they were the same men –I reckon their boss isn’t going to be very pleased, it must have been a lucky break or someone tipped - no that doesn’t make sense.’

‘What do you mean, how they got onto us?’

I gave it some more thought, ‘he must be very big, have many fingers in many pies, he had put the word out and someone saw us and rung in.’

We were silent for a while, then Finlay said.

‘I wonder what happened to the husband, did it say in the paper clipping?’

‘Only that he was missing, that the police were concerned for his well being and that they are looking into it.’

‘Sounds like they have a crystal ball,’ Finlay said looking over the top of her nearly empty glass.

I grimed, ’yeah I got it, pommy humour right?

We drove to the airport and began looking for Flight West.

‘A good place for the distribution of illegal substances,’ she said in her best pommy accent.

‘Selling drugs from overseas you mean, come in by boat, fly out by plane – can’t believe that it’s not the Aussie way.’

Finlay snorted, ‘people are the same the world over, there’s the good…’

‘And the bad,’ we had stopped looking at a large directory board; we were in no hurry as it was nearly two o’clock and boarding time was two thirty.

I looked across to the runway and the grassy perimeter beyond, not absorbing any of it.

My thoughts came out quietly barley above a whisper; ’why are we going to WA? Why did we come here, a federal police sergeant could have done the same job, it was obvious what happened and why the person who ordered the killing of Turnball wanted it kept quiet, whoever he is he can get away with murder.

‘Charlie, the hangers to the left,’ she said.

Motoring out I turned left checking out signs over the hangers. Small planes were parked haphazardly so high winged some low winged, there were twin engine and single, single seaters and more.

‘I mustn’t forget my suitcase, it’s in the boot – I suppose we can cram in the kangaroo as well,’ she said.

’Yes, of course there’ll… what did you say?

‘What’s the matter you’re not listening; tell me Charlie what’s worrying you.’

I slowed to a halt, ‘none of it makes sense Finlay, and something’s bugging me.’

Finlay stared out of the window speaking quietly, ‘it does seem rather odd,’ then turning she said, ‘we won’t solve it here though will we Charlie.’

Four hangers later we found the air line; it was a big hanger with one plane at the back and a lowing six seater in the front. Inside to the right a prefabricated office and amenities, toilets, rest room I presume. Left a workshop with a bench littered with tool and spare parts and other bits and pieces, a man in his forties, cigarette dangling from and unshaven face looked up then went back to whatever he was doing, I smelt aviation fuel and he was smoking, so much for safety Regulation’s.

A man in the company’s uniform, such as it was, dark blue trousers a lighter blue shirt with epaulets and a badge of some sort on the shirt pocket. He was a well-built man short dark hair lightly tanned and about six foot tall.

‘Mister Kapps?’ he asked bending down and looking past Finlay to me.

‘Yeah,’ I said.

Any luggage?’ He asked, unsmiling perhaps a little nervous.

‘In the boot,’ I said, ‘I have to make a call to the car hire company tell them where to pick it up.’

He was already at the rear of the car, ‘in the office,’ he called.

Finlay went ahead while I collected our hand baggage; I was two metres from the office door when Finlay burst out pale, eyes wide.

‘I’m not going in there,’ her voice trembled.

I looked into the office and saw a man at the counter, he waved me in. I entered and glanced around but could see nothing untoward.

‘It was spy,’ the man said pointing up above the window.

A large hairy Huntsman spider looked down on me, he wasn’t the only thing giving bad vibes about this place, there was no customer relationship, no how yer going, welcome to – and all that banter, my thoughts were interrupted.

‘Your name Kapps,’ he said not meeting my eyes.

‘Okay your luggage is aboard and the pilots waiting go through there,’ he gestured to a door leading to the hanger. Near the plane I waved to Finlay Duncan.

The luggage man indicated to Finlay to go first, when I ducked into the small cabin I under stood why.

Sitting in the far front seat was the man I recognised in the photograph I had been shown in the office, it was Harry Winters.

He looked to be asleep; his head was slumped down on his chest, crouching because of the low roof I started to go across to him.

‘No leave him alone,’ said a voice from the back of the plane.’

I turned to the voice; a man was leaning on the back seat aiming a pistol at my head, Finlay was squeezing in behind Harry Winters. Everything and everyone stopped.

‘Sit down Mister Kapps and buckle up, do anything silly and one or all of you will die.’

The man, what I could see of him was ugly, his skin was pock-marked, his large nose also scared, long greasy black hair framed his face, I sat and buckled up, the man behind me came in and closed the door.

I could have grabbed his pistol even overpowered him, the man on the last seat, two back would have shot me and probably the others, I wasn’t to know that wasn’t the mission of the kidnappers.

Chapter Twenty Three

Dang Foo Fong stared through the large and expensive five metre tinted window, seeing nothing, of the curved horseshoe bay, the blue water and smooth soft sand; he saw and felt only what was inside, he felt angry, sad and vengeful. He stood on a curved marble floor shaped like the bay, behind him three steps down on a pink and white marbled floor stood three Chinese all men members of the dreaded Hong Kong Triad gang. They stood, silent, hands behind their backs waiting.

Slowly the Triad leader turned and faced them, hands crossed in front, he peered down on them anger in his eyes.

’He spoke English, as was his rule, all members must speak English, it was an important tool in the business of ruling, being on top, faking to be an ignorant low caste Chinese who didn’t speak the language, a lot could be learnt from eve’s dropping.

‘Are you not being paid well,’ he didn’t wait for an answer, ‘maybe I should dock half your wages,’ his eyes were now mere slits, his hands clenching and unclenching.

The tree men had seen the sign before; there was a lot of blinking and oozing of sweat.

‘All I ask of you was to bring me proof of the death of the men who had taken away my three sons and what do I get, a parcel of ID’s from seven dead Triad members.’ Fong never speaks the word gang – this is a business.

A small slim man took a step forward hands together as if in pray.

‘With respect honourable Fong,’ he had trouble with the word honourable, ‘we had already taken steps to solve this matter.’

‘Again how many steps do you want,’ Fong glared at slim Chinese man.

’At this very momentin the middle of Australia, the men who killed your son and other Triad members are about to – as the English say, meet their maker, it is regrettable that an innocent woman will also do the same.’ He bowed his head and stepped back in line.

‘I hope for the sake of you and your family that it will happen Peter Sou.’ He waved a hand in dismissal and went back to the window overlooking the bay, he suddenly turned back, ‘stop,’ he said in a loud voice.

‘How are you arranging this?’

‘We have a contact that for a small donation helps us.’

‘Make a report, with names, the contact could be useful, he has helped us once now he will do it again.’

Chapter Twenty Four

“What’s your name,’ I asked the man sitting down next to the pilot.

‘What! – this is not a fucking tea party mate,’ cane the voice from the back.

‘Go on,’ said the man in front, ’give him a fucking name.

The port and starboard engines started up making it difficult to hear.

‘You can call me Eric,’ shouted the man next to the pilot.

‘I’ll be Bill,’ shouted the man with the gun in the back seat, ‘now turn round and shut the fuck up.’ emphasising the point with his pistol, we began to move.

The cabin was small not much bigger than a car I could reach out and touch Harry Winters and if I stretched, Finlay. I held out my hand to her there was a small hesitation, then a smile and held my hand. It was a ruse to look at Harry Winters, I let go of her hand. Harry Winters was moving coming awake, I wondered what the connection was between us, why would he have been flown all this way when Montrose said it was just something small and I could deal with

It quickly. There was only one connection I knew of and that was the Hong Kong Triads, I may be wrong but I haven’t heard of any trouble in Broome associated with the triads.

The land beneath us was a volcanic red with dozens of water channels branching out in all direction, from where I sat it looked like a tree roots, small ditches had been formed by record rain fall over the last month.The land was liberally dotted with trees, their shading, caused by the rising sun gave me more cause for concern, according to the shadow they cast on the ground, we were heading due south not southwest, something else bothered me, if we were heading due south where do we refuel, according to my calculation the Beechcraft had a range of about 1500 kilometres give or take a few k’s depending on the wind strength and how fast we would be flying, so where would we refuel going due south and we would have to because if the plan was to fly to Broome that is nearly 2000 kilometres from Darwin more now we are off route.

Glancing at Harry I saw he was upright and licking dry lips, I delved into my bag.

‘Oi,’ the shout came from behind me, he was on his feet stooped gun pointed at me.

I mimed drinking then slowly I held out a bottle of water, ‘Bill’ nodded but didn’t lower the pistol, Harry gave me a palms up and went to his own bag on thefloor beside him, in no way did acknowledging he knew me. Having our bags with us was in fact unusual because all luggage should be stowed.

I went through several scenarios of trying to gain control, every one led to death and it was all on our side. I had never been in a situation like this; it was like the proverbial, shooting fish in a barrel.

I tried to remain calm by looking out the window, my mind clicked onto my family, mum and dad, Uncle Sean, Aunt Tess, would I ever see them again. Periodically I would get an E-Mail from my parents in Canada, Dad was now lecturing in some Uni about what I forget, Mum was teaching computer hacking to the Canadian police can you believe – what a couple. Dad’s brother Sean has a rare fruit farm on land leading to O’Reily’s on Springbrook Mountain. I owe a lot to them both, when young it was like having two fathers, they taught me heaps about living off the land in rainforests, fishing, horse riding, shooting, never at animals always a tin can a bottle and a large plastic bin filled with sand, that target gradually became further and further away. We would tape a sheet of newspaper over it to prove we had hit the bin, my best shot was with an old Lee Enfield rifle at over 800 metres, the brothers were impressed, they could do just about anything, you name it they did it. Now Aunt Tess is an uncomplicated lovely women, who whenever I meet her throws her arms around me and kiss’s smack on the lips, squeezing me close she would whisper, ‘I wish I was young again you gorgeous man,’ at first I found it embarrassing, but Uncle Sean would smile and say; she’s just kidding lad, she does the same thing with me, we would laugh and get a beer, Christ I miss them.

The engines droned on had being doing so for nearly two and half hours now and we were still heading south. The pitch of the engines suddenly changed and we began to descend. I saw the sun reflect of something several kilometres away, I put it down to water. Suddenly the trees and channels grew bigger,

We bumped down on a rough runway, then before the plane had stopped Eric, if that was his name, began to open the door.

‘What’s going on?’ I said.

‘Shut up and do as you are told and you will live a little longer.’

It was the man in the back seat, Bill, who loved waving his pistol about.

‘You got a licence for that,’ I asked.

We were still moving and the steps were down, Eric had grabbed the bags and had tossed them out.

‘You do know who we are, when you get caught it will be an automatic life sentence that is if you make it to trial,’ as I spoke the plane was turning round.

‘Who’s to know,’ Eric said stepping back head bowed, it was getting crowed in here I thought all standing up shoulders bent – I could make a grab for his gun but I think the man behind me in that small space would take great delight in killing me.

The Beechcraft stopped, heat rushed in along with smell the dust blown from the propellers.

‘Who’s paying you, because it’s not enough,’ I faced Bill. ‘Killing federal Agents tends to shorten your life, they will hunt you down.’

‘Get off dick head, enjoy the peace and quiet while you can,’ he said.

I went down the steps into the dust and heat I waited for Finlay and Harry Winters.

I caught sight of Eric talking into a mike, telling someone perhaps that we had landed.

When walking down the steps I felt a tingle down my spine expecting any minute to be shot, to feel the impact of the bullet, it wasn’t just the heat that made me break out onto a sweat, I could almost feel the thump and the tearing of my flesh as I had done months before, but it didn’t happen, instead I turned and watched Finlay and then Harry climb down the steps.

The props blew a red dust over us as the engines revved up, I held my hand over my mouth and quickly turned away from the plane I then turned back and saw the steps retract and the plane taxi away, then at the end of the rough flat ground, it circled, revved up and began its way back to Darwin, watching it soar into the air I promised myself that one day I would get those bastards.

We all waved away the dust and went in search of our bags, Harry Winters stopped and vomited in the dirt.

’Shit I don’t know what they gave me, how are you Charlie, no offence but I could think of a better companion to spend a holiday with.

‘No offence Harry, but I think we should be moving.’

Finlay was looking at each of us in turn, the look said it all – you know each other.

‘Harry this Finlay.’

They nodded to each other.

‘We should really be going guys.’

‘What’s the hurry Charlie,’ Finlay said, ‘you got plans.’

‘No but they have.’

I pointed to a speck on the horizon.

’I think we’ve met those guys fore,’I said holding my hand up shading my eyes, ’Harry Winters gave me a quizzical look.

‘You don’t think…’ he said watching the plane getting nearer. He realized the implications.

‘Harry I don’t think they are on a rescue mission,’ I said as I rummaged in my bag for my weapon,’ how many rounds have you got?’

Chapter Twenty Five

Douggie Smith snipped of the end of the wire he had repaired, he gave a last tug on the fence. It was almost time to go home. It was worse this time, a lot of soil had washed away beneath the posts of the hundred-kilometre fence line; his trailer on the back of the Land Rover was almost depleted of spare posts, wire and nails.

Douggie stood back and admired his handwork then put the tools he had been using in a battered old army ammunition box fixed to the trailer.

He was a small wiry grizzled man who looked older than his fifty-five years; his thin face was lined and burnt framed by a wide brimmed shabby hat.

He was about to turn the truck around and head off when he heard a plane, it was low and looked like it was coming into land on the old airstrip; now who would be landing here, perhaps it was in trouble, but it didn’t sound so. Between him and the airstrip lay low small creeks beds riddled with deep runoffs, rocks, and the occasional bush. The water runoff over the last thousand years had exposed sandstone and rock, promoting the growth of trees and other vegetation, there had been good rain and bad times, the tough plants had taken advantage of the good times and had sunk their roots deep into volcanic red soil, making the landscape sparse and unforgiving.

Douggie decided to investigate and drove his land Rover behind some rocks out of sight of the plane.

‘Could be druggies,’ he mused aloud, ‘or people smugglers, yeah could even be terrorists,’ his mind went into more outlandish scenarios, a result of being on one’s own for mouths at a time.

From the back of the Rover he pulled out his old 303 Lee Enfield rifle, it was old but well cared for and was very accurate, why only an hour ago he had killed a wild pig and now the headless carcass was in his large cooler in the back of the Land Rover. He put a round in the breach and carefully made his way among the trees opposite

’Now let’s see what’s going on Douggie, got to be careful though, we wouldn’t want to be a dead hero would we mate. ’It was a habit he had acquired, talking to himself, there was no one else – wouldn’t be for weeks until he got back to town.

He heard the plane, saw it low in the sky a fancy red job two engines, Douggie was on higher ground now just a pile of rocks beside a small dry stream bed. The aircraft had landed, door opened. It was a long way of but he thought one of the three people to get out was a woman. Strange goings on thought Douggie, the man who stayed in the plane was waving something at them as he pulled up the steps and closed the door. Even odder, he had thrown out some bags which were being picked up by those left behind.

It was hot on the rock so he went down and sat under a tree trying to solve the puzzle.

’‘Don’t fucking make sense Douggie old mate, where around here would they be going, there’s fuck all here - but me,’ while he pondered this oddity Douggie took the canteen of water belted to his waist, something he had learnt many years ago, never leave town without water. Douggie looked north and the receding plane, he mulled over what he had seen, why would anybody in their right mind get off a plane – oh fuck he thought maybe they didn’t have a choice, That man in the aircraft was waving something at them, maybe it was a gun.. He scrambled to his feet and was about to move off when he heard another plane.

‘Must have felt guilty and come back for them,’ he said aloud.

Chapter Twenty Six

Finlay had only been out of the aircraft for five minutes and she was already soaked in sweat.

‘How does anyone live out here,’ she asked wiping her brow.

‘Do you see anyone?’ I said hitching my bag on my shoulder.‘Come on guys let’s move they’ll be here in a minute.’

We gathered under a tree.

‘Charlie,’ Harry Winters said breathing hard, ‘tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.’

‘What have we got in common apart from saving my life whilst killing certain people and I hear you did something similar in Honker’s –so?’

Finlay hands on her knees looked at us.

‘Do tell old chaps; love to know who I am going to have to kill - just for the record you understand.’ She was putting on a brave face, wouldn’t do for an MI5 operative to go to pieces in front of the Aussies.

The plane was a silver twin engine, I thought it might be a Cessna but I wasn’t sure.

‘I think you’re right Charlie and they won’t be using pistols, they’ll have something heaver’

I pointed to an outcrop of rocks high to our right.

‘Come on we will discuss our option as we move,’ I said moving out into the sauna like heat.

‘It must be over forty degrees,’ Finlay gasped.

I heard Harry Winters mutter; ‘and then some – oh to be in England now that spring is here’.

‘Oh shit yes please,’ Finlay said.

A few minutes later we stopped, I pointed to the sandy soft ground.

‘It will easy for them to follow us, that’s about the only advantage we have.’

‘What are you saying Charlie,’ Harry Winters said.

‘We stay together until we‘re behind those rocks, Harry you go past and get back on the higher ground and watch your back they may come over the ridge –Finlay you stay behind the rocks and keep you head down, I’ m going over there…’ I waved my arm east. ‘To try and stop them from coming behind us. Okay let’s go. ’

Harry and I moved, Finlay stood still her face had that look a young girl gets when she is told she can’t do something she doesn’t want to do, teeth clenched and scowling.

You haven’t answered my question.’

‘Triads, now move.’

It was one of those moments you wish you had a camera, her mouth dropped open she looked over her shoulder and ran for the rocks’ my last words before I took off into the few stunted trees were.

‘Don’t waste bullets.’

The ground wasn’t much higher before me it looked like a wide dried up river bed with trees and small rivulets of water flowing through; in this heat it will soon be dry. Putting my bag behind me I lay down beside a large thorny bush.

Guessing there would be at least five Triads I waited, working out the best strategy, this was what I trained for, I made a decision, rolling in the dirt to blend in with my surroundings, it wasn’t much but it may help. I left my bag under ta bush and went inland figuring the best form of defence was attack, hoping they would see the tracks and follow our foot prints, deep down I knew it wasn’t to be that easy.

There were four of them walking slowly with automatic weapons held across their chests well spread out, did they know we were armed, I don’t think they would take that chance these were I suspect skilled assassins. The four Triads came level where I lay. I could take the nearest out but the other three were too far away for my Glock, it would be best to wait until Finlay fired then they would all go for cover and I would get a better chance, maybe Harry was thinking the same thing. Shit it was hot, and I had left my bag with the water bottle inside. The sand was hot the air was hot and the light began to dim as it began to set the other side of the small ridge, I looked to the sky, rolling grey clouds moved angrily on the horizon, a small flash of light flashed through the clouds.

I felt the back of my hair prickle I looked over my shoulder, he was about fifteen metres away, his feet spread and an Ak47 pointed at me.
‘Do not move Mr Harry Winters,’ he said.

‘I am not Harry Winters, I’m Kapps,’ I said not that it made any difference he was going to kill me away.

’‘No matter I will still get paid when I go home.’ He grinned

‘You’re not going home,’ I said, ‘only in a box maybe, you are going to die in a foreign country because you’re a coward, scum, and your mother would disown you…’ That made him angry and he raised the gun I braced myself.

There was gunfire from behind me, I saw the man stagger as if punched then his eyes went wide and he slowly dropped to his knees and rolled over.

It was a signal for the others amongst the trees to open fire at me. I tried to bury myself in the hot earth as pieces of metal kicked dust into my face and small branches rained down apron me. Pistol fire joined in the noise of the AK47’s causing the shooters of the rifles to take what cover they could find.

’You okay Charlie?’ Harry Winters called from the other side of the trees.

’Yeah, you?

‘Yeah, I think I hit one.’

Finlay fired from the rocks; it was answered by a volley of gunfire.

It was time to alter my position; somehow get behind them or at least a position they found hard to kill me. The position had changed a little; their ace in the hole had been played and trumped by who I don’t know. I picked up the dead man’s weapon and made a move.

As I ran crouched low to avoid being seen I checked my gun for bullets – three, with a spare magazine in my pocket the rifle had a full mag. As I entered the grove of sparsely growing trees the triads opened up again. Doing a quick count, if Harry had hit one and he was dead and the Triad at the top of the slope makes two, there are still two left. Now I had a longer ranged weapon and I would put it to use.

A hundred metres in front I saw a movement a man running from one tree to another he had his back to me an easy shot, I took it, he crumpled forward and lay still; the other Triad was firing for all he was worth at the rocks where Finlay was hiding. I got a glimpse of him as he made for the slope not far from where Finlay lay. As he came over the top he took two steps and -another gun fired, the triad came back down the slope and lay still. It had me wondering who the hell was our saviour, I hadn’t seen anyone and the weapon he was using was unfamiliar, one to go.

‘Mr Harry Winters.’ A voice called out. ‘Will you give me a chance – man to man?’

‘Like you gave us you mean,’ Harry shouted back.

The distance between us was now closer I could see him flat behind a dry stubby tree, at twenty metres I said.

‘Put down the gun and I will think about your proposition, it’s either that or I kill you right now,’ I was about eighteen steps away, I saw him twitch surprised and the closeness of me.

He deliberated the proposal for two seconds.

‘You will fight me Mr Kapps?’ His voice hopefully, sly, challenging, ‘to the death?’

‘To your death yes,’ I said, ‘I must warn you Triad man that I am more than your equal, you can rescind your challenge and we will leave you behind to take your chances. ’

He pushed away his weapon and sat up.

‘I will take my chances with you.’

‘This is my fight Charlie,’ Harry Winters said coming into view.

‘No Harry it’s our fight they killed your wife and put three holes in me, if he beats me you can take over.’

Harry Winters came behind him and picked up the weapon he had tossed away.

The rush of whatever it was that gave me strength and speed escalated, I checked out his fist and face they were both scared, this man was a martial arts practitioner and I bet a good one, so that gave me an advantage, because I knew the way he would fight. His first move would be the kick, I went through the process of throwing away my gun; it would be just about now when he strikes.

Hardly had the weapon left my hand when he kicked out, because I threw away the gun with my right hand my body was twisting away from him, I continued to rotate at the same time he kicked, he missed, I didn’t and kicked out connecting with his left knee. He limped back as a shadow of doubt flickered across his face.

‘What’s your name,’ I said looking him in the eye, ‘have to put a name on the grave, got a family? I’ll send an ear home to them.’

He shook it off listening to his master’s voice that played within him, reading his thoughts I saw him thinking how can a long nose move that fast and be that strong. I made a false attempt to rush him his right leg kicked out sweeping past my chin, already forward on my left leg I pushed off with my right and kicked him in that injured knee again, hearing a snap and grisly cartage stretching, I jumped in for real his time.

I’ll give him this he was game, he lashed out with a scared left fist, which I blocked then knuckled him hard in the throat, before he could take in what had happened I hit him harder in the same place with my right. Standing over him I heard two voices.

‘Bloody hell mate you’re fucking good, I’m glad I’m on your side.’

A bushman with a 303 rifle held across his chest stood five metres away.

‘Charlie quick over here,’ Harry Winters called.

‘Keep your eye on him mate, I think he’s dead…’ I was running to the rocks where Finlay was hiding, ‘just make sure,’ I called back.

There was a fine drizzle of rain in the air helping just a little to cool the day, I belted around the rocks to find Harry Winters holding Finlay up against the rock; blood was oozing from the top of her left shoulder and running down the rock behind her. Oh shit I thought, there was no need to ask what had happened – she had been hit.

Harry Winters was already ripping open her once white now blooded top. Dropping beside her I stripped of my shirt and was about to try and stop the blood when I realised I had been rolling in the dirt; I looked at Harry’s.

‘Get it off Harry,’ I said.

He began to take it off uttering, ‘Charlie I didn’t know you cared.’

He gave it to me and I draped it over her shoulder, Harry was looking over my scars.

‘He’s with us,’ I said examine the wound a little further round and it could have been nasty. The round had hit her low on the shoulder blade and come out within an inch of the top of her breast, it was bleeding badly I pushed Harry’s shirt into both of the holes.

‘Can I help?’ it was the bushy; ‘I’ve got a first aid kit.’

‘That would be great Mr…’

‘Douggie,’ as he turned to go.

‘Wait Douggie, have you got any fresh meat.’

‘Er, yeah, you hungry?’

‘Can you bring some – you’ve got a 4X4?’

Douggie nodded.

’‘Bring it down, please mate,’ turning back to Finlay, she didn’t look good, ashen faced and sweaty her breathing unsteady.

Keeping firm hands over the wounds I spoke to Harry Winters.

‘Harry you speak Chinese.’

‘Yeah,’ he looked puzzled.’

’Will you go and secure the plane and bring back the pilot.’

He cottoned on, ‘yeah right Charlie.’

The rain had increased slightly but looking at the sky I saw the storm had shifted to the southeast. I heard a diesel engine approach, a door slammed after two minutes Douggie came in sight carrying a black case with a red cross on it and a blooded rag.

‘Charlie,’ it was Finlay, barely above a whisper, ‘sorry Charlie it was a ricochet.’

Douggie opened the box it was well stocked.

Pointing to a glass file I asked, ‘is that what I think it is - sorry mate my names Charlie.’

‘Morphine! Yeah Charlie it is,’ He picked out a sterilised packet containing the needle. Cleaning her arm I injected some morphine into her arm.

‘Hang in there Finlay we will get you out of here soon.’

Cleaning the wound as best as I could I put on the pork steaks, one either side.

‘Hold these Douggie,’ I said.

He must have thought me mad, but he did it.

Taking a bandage out of the box I began to bind her tightly, I was awkward as the wound was in a difficult position. The morphine was taking effect the trembling had abated a little.

I had been doing a lot of thinking while working, I took Douggie aside.

‘Do you know of any place where I might dump dead bodies Douggie,’ it was dumping them here or take them back with us which could cause all sorts of trouble with the diplomatic type.

This old bushy was sharp, ‘what about the pilot, won’t he talk?’

‘Smart bugger aren’t you.’

‘Oh yes that’s why I spends weeks on end mending fences.’

The pilot has incriminated himself already by bringing in armed men, what’s he going to say. Do you know a place?’

’As a matter of fact I do, it’s of the beaten track a bit, but there’s this ravine type crack in a small mountain east of here, never seen the bottom I could dump them down there – for a fee.’

‘You shall be amply rewarded Douggie.’

’I fucking hope so carry five dead bodies about is not the norm.’

Harry Winters came back with the pilot.

‘Can we use your 4X4 to take Finlay back to the plane?’

‘Yeah of course,’ Douggie said.

I think – all that’s happened has made Douggie’s day, killing a couple of baddies, helping a damsel in distress and probably a small reward.

‘You can help him with the bodies,’ I said to the pilot.’

’I don’t think so; he grimaced, in his once white uniformed shirt and dark trousers,

Harry Winters punched him hard in the belly he fell to his knees gasping for air.

I knelt down and lifted his face.

‘Oh I think you will, or you will stay behind with your mates,’ between breaths he said.

‘And who will fly the plane.’

‘My friend here has commercial licence.’

The pilot in his black trousers now dirty on the knees and his white shirt with the bars on his shoulders stood up.

‘Douggie can you take Finlay to the plane with Harry. You can help me,’ I said to the Asian flyer.

I went with the pilot to get my bag, I wanted him with me, because once inside the plane on his own he would be gone, not a good scenario for us. In my bag I put the wallets of the dead triads and together we carried them to the top of the slope ready for Douggie.

I heard the rover coming back, he found us and we loaded the dead men onto the back of the trailer along with the guns. I told the pilot to sit under a tree and don’t move, pointing to the tree with my Glock hoping he got the message, I think he did.

Douggie finished tying the bodies to the trailer.

‘This is fucking bizarre Charlie, fucking bizarre.’

I had no time to waste on the dead men whom I’m sure have been sent over here because they are killers, the best in their chosen profession, a bad career move on their behalf.

When the last man was on, I called Douggie over to the head of the dead man.

‘Yes mate,’ he said, watching me pull back the lip. He looked at the tattoo then at me then back to the mouth of the dead man.

‘They say that dead men tell no tales, but this one does, he’s a Triad.’

There was a blank look on the bushman’s face.

‘Fuck I bet that hurt,’ was his reply.

‘In the cab Douggie,’ I said taking my bag with me. One by one I took out the money in the wallets and gave it to Douggie, a guess, over a thousand dollars.

‘Douggie you know you can’t say anything.’

He looked at me as if I was joking.

‘Charlie, I killed a man, so who do I tell and if I did…’ The old bushy was grinning at me ’who would believe such a story?A bunch of Chinese comes out of nowhere with guns hunting down three Aussies one a woman and I like a bloody hero, saved their lives, nah they would think I had been smoking too much weed.’

I shook his hand, ’Thanks mate, I said.

’Oh and don’t try and sell the guns you’ll end up in the nick, something else, ’I inclined my head towards the trailer, ‘they are wearing expensive jewellery.’

He smiled a toothy smile, ‘not for much longer there’re not.’

I waved him off.

Back at the Cessna Harry Winters had put Finlay in the first seat near the door, he was in the co-pilots seat and I in the seat next to Finlay Duncan. She looked pale and worn.

Once in the air Harry Winters was on the phone. I sat back and tried to relax, it had been a long day. I gave Finlay some more water and went back to my thoughts. This whole mess started with the rescue of that yacht, my thoughts went to the old squad probably trying to find a terrorist camp somewhere in PNG or rounding up the usual suspects.

The game started with the Triads and their tenacious attempt for retribution, they were either very lucky, used ancient Chinese magic, or they had corrupted a person close to the department, because they always knew where I would be at a certain time and place, I vote for the latter.

It came down to someone corrupt and under the counter payments, but who, I know very little about the department, met just a few of the people who work there, I have to start with what I know and work back.

Harry turned in his seat and gave me the thumbs up. ‘It’s all taken care of,’ he shouted over the noise of the engines. I relaxed a little knowing it was far from over. There are people who know the killers have gone missing, very soon when the Triads do not turn up for their return trip, questions will be asked and when nobody hears from them back in Hong Kong, somebody is going to feel the pressure.

I have to find out who lit the fuse for all this mayhem and quick because my luck is running thin. It would have run out altogether but for Douggie.

Two and bit hours later we landed in Broome, we taxied to a distant hanger where an ambulance was waiting. A man in a white shirt, black trousers and wearing dark shades took Harry Winters and myself to the hospital, as we drove off I saw two men in suits marching the pilot to a large van.

In the hospital waiting room we had something that resembled thin mud that came from a machine labelled coffee. It was no use in asking who it was that Harry Winters had rung to organise all this, he must have pulled some big strings because the hospital has to notify any gunshot wound and there is not a copper in sight.

Harry…’ I started to say, he held up his hand.

‘Do you mind if I go first Charlie?’

I shrugged, ‘okay.’

‘You have probably been asked this before,’ he said.

‘Probably,’ figuring where he was going, waiting for – are you on something. He didn’t let me down.

‘Why do you say that,’ as if I didn’t know.

‘I saw what you did to the Chinese man, I head the smack of the blow, saw the speed.’

‘I didn’t swell up ripping apart my clothes and turning green, did I?’

He grinned, ‘no, but you still haven’t answered the question.’

‘Like steroids you mean, no Harry I’m not a superman, its Gods will, he gives me the strength and speed to fight the bad people,’ I said in all sincerity.

At first he didn’t know what to say until the innocent purity of my face changed, then he laughed.

He waged a finger, ‘just for a second you had me going.’

We stopped chuckling, I was my turn.

‘Harry who do you work for,’ no sense in wasting words.

‘Ah, thought you might ask that,’ he looked vacantly at the opposite wall.

‘You have taken a lot for me Charlie, I wish you hadn’t and I don’t really know how it all happened, I can only think that you were mistaken for me and had to kill to protect yourself – then you became a target[’

‘”I know that Harry, who do you work for?’

’You do know since you joined, two of sections have been closed, they say its cut backs. Strange how that works, they shut down a section and the people in them are distributed to other departments, so where’s the savings.

‘Harry,’ I said, ‘stop dodging the question.’

‘When you answer mine I’ll answer yours.’

‘We sound like a couple of school kids,’ I said, ‘it’s a natural phenomenon, I just have to careful not to hit to hard…’

‘In case you break a hand? I work for an off shoot of ASIO, a bit like you really, only it involves a more diplomatic circle.’

We sat back in our plastic chairs and stared at the untouched drinks.

It was an hour and a half before the doctor came and spoke to us.

‘She’s going to be alright, the scapular had some damage and thankfully little damage to the breast. Who put on the meat?’

I indicated with my hand.

‘That’s a very old practice, used in battles past to stop the bleeding; you probably saved her life, well done. You can see her tomorrow.’

‘I’m tired and hungry Charlie let’s eat and you can tell me how you knew that trick with the meat and talk about our next move.’

After booking in to a hotel under false names we ate and went back to the hotel, I produced the wallets and told him what I planned.

’‘I can help there,’ Harry Winters said.

We put all the identifications, driving licences, credit cards and put any photos we found into an envelope, then put the envelope into another one with a note to his friend to post it to the boss of the triads. The message was you keep sending them and we will keep killing them – hopefully he will stop, Harry said it would only make him send more or employ local hit men. This could be the case at least we will know about the local bad guys.

A nurse was taking away the breakfast tray when we arrived, Finlay looked better but still pale and drawn her arm was in a sling, going over to her I took her hand and very lightly kiss her on the lips with the merest brush of our noses, the was a squeeze of the hand and her eye fixed on mine until I sat beside her, after several seconds she dragged her eyes away and smiled at Harry Winters. We fussed and cooed over her telling her some of the plans we had made.

Harry stood and said he had to go, ‘got things to do’ he said,’ once alone Finlay said.

‘Charlie I’m sorry.’

‘What for, you have nothing to be sorry for, it’s me who should be saying sorry to you for getting you into all this mess.’

She was lying back on the pillows looking tired.

‘No I don’t mean that, I meant for not understanding.’

‘Understanding what – look Finlay I can see you’re feeling tired…’

‘No Charlie let me finish, when we first met I was unkind, you were a mess I didn’t know you had been shot three times…’

She was crying I grabbed a handful of tissues from a box next to the bed.

’‘That’s okay Fin,’ I said. ‘You weren’t to know.’

As she didn’t have the energy to be angry, at me calling her Fin, she blew her nose.

’You mustn’t call me that, she said exhaustedly.

She looked at me through red-rimmed eyes.

‘I don’t understand you Charlie, I cannot equate to some of the things I’ve seen you do. Your recovery from those wounds for instance…’

Her eyes closed and she slept. I had already written a note in case she wasn’t well enough to see us; I put it on the cabinet beside the bed. There was another note addressed to me, I read it. In a shaky hand it said ‘sorry, have you seen my suitcase with all my clothes,’ no I hadn’t but think I know where it was and it just so happens I’m going there very soon.

Chapter Twenty Seven

The flight for Darwin left two hours later; I arrived in Darwin in the middle of the afternoon to a steamy over cast day.

‘Mr Kapps,’ the man was dressed in navy coloured shorts and a striped cotton shirt; he was in his early twenties.

‘Yes.’

He seemed relieved that he had got the right man.

‘This way sir,’ was I ever that young I suppose I must have been?

We went to the hire car park.

‘There you are sir.’

He handed me the keys to a small Honda car.

’‘The parcels in the back sir have a good day,’ and he left.

I booked into a hotel near the airport and caught up with some sleep. It was still light when I awoke; checking the time I saw it was nearly seven. I’ll eat first then phone Finlay, I told myself.

‘Hallo,’ she said after three rings.

‘How you feeling?’ I asked.

‘Not back yet?’ she asked, ‘I feel asleep sorry.’

’‘Stop keep saying sorry.’

‘But I do have to apologise for my attitude when we first met,’ I heard a catch in her voice.

’You were shot three times I had no idea, it was very unforgiving of me. How did you recover so quickly?’

Well first you have to get bitten by a spider and a snake.

I have come to the conclusion that episode with those biters in PNG has led to both physical and mental changes in me. The physical came first then during my recovery from the shooting, the mental aspect followed. I have no medical reason for this, perhaps someone else has.

‘The doctor said…’ Finlay interrupted my thoughts. ‘You probable saved my life.’

‘I think a man called Douggie did that, he saved my mine by being where he was at the right time.’

‘Douggie! I think I remember seeing an old man with a funny hat and grey whiskers.’

‘That’s him. Looks like your next plane ride will be home Finlay, the way things are going here you’ll be safer there.’

‘I rang my boss this morning, he told me to take my time, I told him not to speak to anyone over here about it, he asked me why, said he wanted to make to make a strongly worded complaint. I hinted that there was an unresolved issue of deceit and corruption going on – he understood that and said when it’s resolved to ring him.’

‘That was very quick thinking Finlay, that bullet must have shook up your Pommy brain.’

I heard her laugh.

‘I hope later this evening to find your suitcase; you do have your small one don’t you?’

‘Yes, Charlie you will be careful won’t you?’

‘Extremely.’

We chattered on for another ten minutes then she said she was tired, I asked her to describe her case and that I would ring later.

The Beechcraft was in its hanger out of the sun. From my position I could see a few maintenance and mechanical crews of other small airlines working. It was late in the afternoon when several of them shut up shop and left.

Back in the hotel I made ready for the evening, checking lock picks, small LED torch and the parcel I found in the boot of the Honda. Most break-ins occur in the early hours of the morning, two or three o’clock when people were in their deepest sleep. Also the security guards I hope would be at their least diligent, there could even be one or two people still working.

My untraceable phone rang.

‘Charlie,’ the voice said, it was Grahame.

‘Yes.’

’How are you? How are the wounds healing?’

‘Okay and you?’

‘So, so. I have been hearing rumours about some Triad trouble.’

‘You have? Tell me about it,’ I heard him chuckle.

‘Still the same old Charlie, don’t volunteer anything, let the other man do all the talking you learn more that way, that right Charlie?’

‘If you say so,’ more chuckling.

‘This isn’t a catch up call, well it is, but its business, I gather you are in Darwin?’

‘If you say so, or is that another rumour.’

‘Who sent you there?’

‘Where are you, what department are you working for, or is this enquiry personal.’

‘Bit of both really Charlie, I’m with the same section as your mate.’

‘I thought you were under some sort of pressure, in the shit so to speak.’

‘Oh I was, I was, but I pulled a few favours in, had a chat with certain people and now I work for an off shoot of Special Services. You didn’t answer the question, who sent you there and for what reason?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that Grahame, but it can only be one of two can’t it.’ It went quiet, it was what he expected me to say, it was the old need to know thing and of course one department doesn’t talk to another unless we go to war – even then.

‘Have you been told what you are doing next Charlie – alright I know I shouldn’t ask but this is not idle curiosity.’

‘Grahame I am going to ask you a favour, if you can do this for me I will answer your question.’

A hesitation, then, ‘okay you have a deal.’

‘If someone, anyone asks, if you have heard from me or anything about me, you say no, you haven’t seen or heard from me for over a week, okay.’

‘Okay, it’s partly true, but why; sorry mustn’t ask. Now my question,’ Grahame said.

‘Montrose gave me the order and I haven’t been told my next job.’

‘Mm, I get the distinct impression that you‘re not telling me everything. By the way Harry Winters is missing haven’t seen him have you.’

‘You’ll have to ask Montrose or Durham about that, I’m just a foot soldier, do this do that kill him don’t get caught.’

‘So when do you think I will see you – when you come back to life no doubt, the next few days is dicey Charlie be careful.’

‘Good luck with the job and don’t shake the tree to hard not just yet.’

We said our goodbyes and I went for a walk pondering what that was all about, strange he didn’t mention Finlay or the shoot out on the mountain. Ah well the water is certainly getting muddier.

At ten o’clock I left the hotel and drove to the outskirts of the airport, I passed a security car on my way; the area was fenced with chain wire. Luck was on my side, there’s nothing worse than getting caught with your head down arse up picking a lock; I found an unlocked gate, I opened it drove through and closed it behind me. The unlocked gate meant somebody was still working somewhere.

Flight-West was three hangers down on the left, I was looking for a gap between the buildings to park the Honda. I found one, it was littered with forty-four galleon drums, pieces of wooden gates and other rubbish. It was the best of a bad lot and I could just back the car in out of sight.

Retrieving the parcel from the back seat and quietly closing the door I stood and listened, several buildings down I could hear activity; drilling then banging then back to the drilling, I checked out the alley, not a lot to see but dark shapes.

Not wanting to go through the front office I began to explore the sides and the back, after ten paces I came to a corrugated iron door that sat half hidden between two piles of wooden and cardboard boxes.

The lock picks were out and almost in the lock when I stopped hands tingling at something telling me not to do it – but why? Straightening up I shone the small LED light around the door, nothing – so why did I hesitate, paranoia, over cautious? The logical part of my mind was telling me I was over reacting, yet another side, the part that I was increasingly hearing was warning me. Listen I told myself and walked away from the door, up close the realisation of the size of the hanger became apparent as I walked to the far end, there was another door similar to the other, except this one was exposed to the passing traffic. Twenty-five metres away stood the wire fence beyond that the road that serviced the private part of the airport; it was reasonably lit with a few streetlights that spilled over to the hangers.

Waiting I looked around for any signs of life, nil, nothing, it was quiet. Thirty seconds later I was inside the hanger with the parcel under my arm. It wasn’t entirely dark inside; corrugated plastic panels were dotted along the roof giving a modicum of light it showed dark winged shapes. A small plane stood to my right, I scanned it with my torch, looked as though it was undergoing some sort of maintenance. Pressing further into the gloom I found the Beechcraft, with the steps down; I went inside and looked for a place to hide the brown paper wrapped parcel. No particular place leapt out at me, next I tried the small luggage bay behind the seats, the entry was from outside. It was locked but not for long it was empty too. Flashing the torch around inside I could find no obvious hiding place, it may mean I have to go back to the cabin. I pushed and poked around then above the door opening, I felt the roof give a little, I pushed hard and it dropped down – bingo. I put the kilo of cocaine into the space and pushed it closed. Next was Finlay’s suitcase, my torch showed the office were we had booked in and a small adjoining room, probably a rest room for employees. I went to my left and behind the small room; curiosity got the better of me I had to know if the signals I felt had been correct. Amongst the benches and tool cupboards I found the door.

Well, well, I am glad I listened to the warning sign.

Above the door was a large beam, it was resting on a flat piece of metal bar, which was supported by a round bar driven into the wall above the door. This had a rolling sleeve fitted to it so when the flat bar moved it moved easily and quietly. The other end of the flat bar, resting on a pegged hinge so when the door opened the flat bar withdrew letting the unbalanced beam to swivel down on the intruders head, in in fact braining him, nasty. The search around the area didn’t produce Finlay’s case so I made my way to the office. I found it in the rest room, idiots leaving evidence in full sight, they must have been sure we weren’t coming back, I decided to leave by the front door but before I could I heard a key being inserted into the lock, I turned to leave the office and exit by the back door, that didn’t work either, the light came on and the pilot came through the door with his mate behind him. I threw the case at the pilot, the big man from the back of the plane came through the front door, the office was too small for four adults to throw their weight about, I kicked big man in the knee and vaulted over the desk grabbing a chair and rammed it into the other two coming through the small gap at the end of the desk. It was one of those fancy office chairs all fake leather and casters, one hit the pilot in the chest the other in the face. I didn’t need to look I knew big man was climbing over the desk, I swung back the chair smashing into his shoulder and face, he grunted lost his balance and fell to the floor. Letting the chair drop and all in one movement I high kicked the pilot who was about to punch me where ever he could, my foot hit him on the heart which when receiving a hard blow like the one he had just received can momentarily stop causing confusion, a short black out or worse still, a heart attack. There was a tangle of arms and legs as he wobbled and he fell backwards falling into to the arms of his mate who tripped over something on the floor, big man was mad I heard him growl as he hoisted himself upright, his ugly pitted face contorted with rage, I rolled over the desk scattering bits and piece everywhere. Taller than me by a couple of inches, he stood poised thinking of a way to take me down. He moved, his tee shirt bulging with steroid enhancing muscle, but before he could throw his big fist at me, I moved in fast knowing to hit his body wouldn’t do much harm so I knuckled him in the throat followed by a knee in the groin, not waiting to see the result I kicked out behind me striking the co-pilot in the ribs, he retreated, jamming both of them shoulder to shoulder in the small gap between desk and wall.

’Well who’s next?’ I said hearing the pilot whisper ‘one two….’

I was back over the desk before he said three.

‘Fuck,’ said the pilot.

’You go that way and I’ll go this way,’ he said to his mate, ‘he cannot leave here alive for fuck’s sake.’

I attacked the man coming round the desk, parrying his punches and dropping him with several good left and rights to the face. The other man had climbed onto the desk and aimed a kick at my head, his shoe catching my cheek, I came back swinging my right am against his legs, I almost stopped in disbelief and the speed and power of the blow, his legs went up and he landed awkwardly on the wooden desk, I had him in a sleeper hold before he could recover.

It was time to go, I found Finlay’s case and went to the door, big man was attempting to get up again, grabbing him by the ankles I pull him away from the door and picked up the case, as I was about to pass him I saw his fist clench so I bounced the case of his face and left.

The drive to the hotel was hot and humid and I was thankful for the air-conditioning. If anyone expects the night temperatures in Darwin to give them some relief, think again, there’s little difference and it makes sleeping difficult - unless you have an air-conditioned house.

The next day I caught the mid-day flight to Broome and landed mid-afternoon.

Finlay was looking a little better sitting up arm in sling having afternoon tea, or as the upper crust Poms would say Tiffin. I chided her with that thought.

‘Having Tiffin are we’ I said in my best Pommy accent dropping the heavy suitcase, why is it women always pack the kitchen sink when travelling.

‘Charlie,’ She said smiling, ‘how are you, did you have a good trip, what’s that bruise on your face.’

‘Oh nothing just bumped into a fist, or was it a foot,’ then together we said.

‘You should see the other fellow.’

Our laughter brought the nurse in and she took away the tea tray.

Sitting in the chair next to the bed I started to say.

‘Well you’re looking…’

‘Cherie what’s that?’ She was looking over my shoulder at her case, I looked from it to her then back again; my belly gave a little skip.

‘That’s your case and it smells.’

Finlay gave me an embarrassing smile.

‘No Charlie,’ she said, holding my hand as if I had done a naughty thing and it wasn’t my fault, ‘that’s not my case.’

I looked at the case then at her, ‘you sure it was the only one I could find and it looks like yours.’

‘Mine is black with red piping, that navy blue with orang piping and there are no labels or red ribbon, I always tie a red ribbon on the handle so I know it’s mine when it comes out on the thing.’

‘Oh, dear old girl got the jolly wrong case.’

I saw the funny side and started laughing Finlay joined in, there hadn’t been much humour whilst we’d been working together; it was great to see her smile.

‘Tell me what happened in Darwin Charlie I’m interested.’

I skipped over most of it telling her about the cocaine and that by now the three that had dropped us of in the middle of nowhere were being investigated for drug smuggling.

‘I couldn’t see another bag so I presumed it was yours.’

We both eyed the suitcase not speaking Finlay spoke.

‘Then I wonder whose it is.’

‘Got to be a woman’s’ I said, ‘it’s heavy.’

‘You…’ she said. ‘Well open it lets see what’s inside.’ Ah, a woman’s curiosity.

Swinging the bag up onto the end of the bed I went in search of my picks, I thumbed the locks open, on top was a pieces of Styrofoam of different sizes broken up for packing, I rummaged and picked up something wrapped in an old towel , it was about the size of a small pumpkin. Finding the end of the towel I bowled it towards Finlay it rolled on the bed and stopped next to her hand, she looked down in horror and gave a small scream.

One pace and I was besides her, I found myself looking down at the head, wrapped in plastic, of the old man who hired out the yacht –Tom. One eye was closed the other partial open, his once grizzly sun burnt face was pale and wrinkled; skin was hanging from his hacked neck lying on a piece of protruding bone. Quickly before the nurses could come in, I rolled back the head and stuffed it back into the case. The lid was hardly closed when a voice said.

‘Everything all right?’

‘Yes, lovely thank you.’

The nurse’s eyes flicked back and forth, sniffing.

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘don’t tire her out,’ and left.

For several seconds we said nothing then Finlay said.

‘That was the old man at the boat hire, is…’

‘Dead – I think so.’

‘You’re sick, is he all in there?’

I shook my head.

‘It’s not heavy enough for that,’ Opening the case I found another head, that of the man in the paper clipping.

‘It’s prawn man,’ I whispered, ‘the man that wanted his wife killed on the boat.’

Finlay’s right hand covered her mouth in horror.

‘There’s something else.’

’Oh no not another one. ’Finlay said in dismay.

‘Not exactly,’ I said, lifting out the towel covered piece, I began to unwrap, I knew what it would be, It was the prawn man’s left hand sealed in a plastic bag. An old film came to mind, an odd thought at that moment but it looked the same – The beast with Five Fingers’ bloodied and yet pale.

‘Quick Charlie wrap it up it smells.’

Clicking the locks shut I put the case back on the floor.

‘What are you going to do Charlie?’

I sat without answering for a minute.

’‘They were probably going to dump it somewhere when they did their next flight, the sea maybe, or somewhere over remote land,’ I said quietly. ‘I think I will send it back to the Darwin Police with a little note. Leave it with me.’

‘Whoever is running this thing, the gang man whoever he is a right shit.’ Finlay said. Her posh pommy voice not quite carrying venom as it should.

‘Are you fit enough to travel?’

‘You think…’

‘Best not take the chance, it’s either that or I put someone on the door, which would be a dead give-away – excuse the pun.’

’‘I’m okay Charlie I can take care of myself.’

She wasn’t in any state to do that, I knew how she felt. The body reacts to the invasion of the bullet sending messages to the brain that tissue, muscle and blood vessels have to be repaired. At first the brain goes into shock as there are too many things to do at once, then slowly it gather’s its self and begins to mend, the time of repairing depend on the individual’s state of health.

‘I’m going to get the bag from Darwin I’ll be some time. Can I get you any clothes while I’m out?’

‘Yes please, size eight, you know what I wear I’ll pay you when you get back, thank you Charlie.’

I love it when she calls me Charlie in that sexy English voice, but I also loved it when Morgan said I love you in her deep sexy voice.

Grabbing the bag, which now had a rather dodgy aroma about it I went in search of a taxi.

Doing the female shopping first and taking the shop girl’s advice, I bought several outfits. Next I bought a roll of plastic wrap, a marker pen and some large stick on labels. Then hurried back to the hotel and wrapped and labelled the suitcase to Darwin police, urgent. Having done all that I drove to the airport and found a flight north. It was on a small charter plane taking tourists to Darwin.

Putting my Glock in the back of my jeans, I left for the hospital.

When I entered the hospital with Finlay’s cloths, it was getting dark, time had slipped away from me as usual; my watch said three minutes past eight. The private rooms were in a rectangular shaped ward with the nurse’s station in the middle and the services either side of that.

‘Can I help you?’

It was a small stout nurse in a crisp blue and white uniform, one of the night shifts.

‘I’m just going to visit Miss Duncan.’

People think that a pistol with a silencer doesn’t make a noise; it does, not loud but a noise, you cannot silence a revolver.

I heard two shots of a silenced pistol then another followed by two loud crack, crack. Racing down the hall I saw a light come on under the door in Finlay’s room, I skidded to a halt and entered my Glock at the ready. A man lay on the floor at the end of the bed; Finlay was sitting on a chair between the bathroom and the toilet. The bed I noticed was plumped up to look like there was someone in it, in a darkened room it would be an easy mistake.

Doctors and nurses were all crowding the doorway trying to get into the room; they saw my gun and crouched down.

‘No one can come in here it is now a crime scene,’ I pointed to the man on the floor, ‘you can’t do anything for him and Miss Duncan is okay so please, keep back and if you haven’t already done so, call the police.’

I went to Finlay; she was shaking the pistol hung loose in her hand.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked quietly, a silly question really but we all ask it.

‘Yes,’ she said in a small voice, ‘I had to kill him Charlie – he missed with his third shot, thank god.’ She pointed to a hole in the wall beside her, I recognised the condition; Finlay was going into shock.

‘I had to kill him,’ she was hardly audible.

While I tried to calm her the staff protested about my handling of their patient but it suited me to get Finlay out of the room. Taking her pistol I laid it on the bed and closed the door, then I did my usual thing and looked for the shooters wallet.

The dead man was in his mid-thirties, dark haired with an unshaven face, he had an ear stud and another below his lip. The name on the driving licence said Philip Wilson aged thirty-six height 172 cm, his credit cards were in the same name, there was also a stack of money of which I borrowed half. Stealing from a dead man? Yes, he was paid good money to kill a Mi5 officer, so, putting the wallet back as neatly as possible I left the room and closed the door.

White and blue uniforms gathered, men in black trousers and white shits were making their way to the room I barred their entry.

‘Now look Mister, we are security and we have to check the room, it’s our job.’

One was overweight the other slim and dark.

The fat one tried to use his size and weight to push past, all he wanted really was to have a sticky beak, probably never seen a dead man. I stood my ground and held up my ASIO ID.

‘Fuck off, if you had done your job as security this wouldn’t have happened. That guy entered with a gun, where were you and I notice you took your time arriving, where were you?’ The thinner of the two grabbed his mate’s arm and steered him away, fatty glared over his shoulder. Just to piss him off further I said I would put it in my report about his lack of duty.

It took another ten minutes before the cops arrived. I spoke to them and told them what happened. Two uniformed police went in search of Finlay Duncan the other two opened the door and went in.

A detective who I had met before when Finlay had arrived at the airport and another man came up to me, before speaking to me he put his head around the door and barked at the two policemen inside.

’Oi, you two get out of there that’s a fucking crime scene, go and get statements from the staff.’

He looked at me and mumbled.

‘Fucking uniforms.’

He was wearing a lightweight pale brown jacket and grey trousers and a pale blue shirt.

He asked me what happened and I told him what I knew.

Hands in pockets he listened.

’‘Did you think this would happen Mr Kapps, I think you did,’ answering his own question.

‘Certain things that have happened recently - and I cannot discuss them with you, gave me cause for concern.’

‘Certain things? Like other people getting murdered for instance, or perhaps an e-mail, like I am going to kill Miss Duncan but don’t tell the police, let’s keep it between ourselves.’

‘Well it wasn’t an e-mail, but you could say I stumbled on a message, which gave me the head’s up so to speak.’

‘And what was this hidden message that you just stumbled across.’

‘Ah, I think by tomorrow you may get a phone call; or perhaps someone higher up the ladder might.’

‘Where from.’

‘Darwin – probably.’

‘About what?’ The policeman asked.

‘Current events, I‘ve no doubt someone will give you the heads up, hand you some information,’ I was enjoying the puns.

‘Have you finished with me inspector, I would like to speak with my colleague.’

‘No I haven’t Mr Kapps, but yes go and see how Miss Duncan is, don’t leave the ward I may have some more questions, not that I will get any answers.’

Finlay was sitting in the TV lounge with a doctor and a nurse; they gave me a disapproving look and left.

Taking her hand I asked how she was, easing her hand away she put on what I thought to be a brave face, it wouldn’t do for MI5 officers to show weakness.

‘I’m okay thank you Charlie – you?’

‘Good, a bit fed up being shot at, I never had this much attention with the squad.’

‘Me either, I mean in England, I had to come to the edge of the Commonwealth for that. ’

‘Sydney and Melbourne have their moments’; I conceded, then back thought back to the night I met Morgan, ‘rarely in Brisbane,’ but I wasn’t too sure about that,

I wondered if the police had received the suitcase yet; someone was doing his best to keep the shit from landing on their doorstep.

The Detective inspector came in dragged up a chair.

’How are you Miss Duncan.? He asked, ‘can you tell me what happened?’

‘Well on the left as you enter the room there is a toilet and a bathroom with a small space between, I was sitting there…’

‘So you were expecting some one.’

‘Not really, no’

Miss Duncan I have a dead man and a dead pillow to investigate both shot, you sit in the dark waiting with a pistol – you do have a licence for the gun I suppose. Now that would be premeditated.’

It was time for me to butt in.

‘What is your name detective, I’ve forgotten.’

’ Chief Inspector Fry,’ he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

‘Okay I know you can’t tell me about what’s going on, but I still have a bloody report to write, give me something.’

‘You could quote the Official Secrets Act,’ Finlay said, ‘save you writing a long detail report, will there be an autopsy on the pillow?’

Our laughter broke the creeping tension.

‘One last question’ the policeman said, ‘when are you leaving, there always seems to be a trail of destruction in your wake.’

‘As soon as Miss Duncan’s well enough,’ I said.

‘Tomorrow’ Finlay said.

The matron came in and said.

‘Your other room is ready Miss.’

As she left the Matron asked,’ when are you leaving Miss?’

Fry laughed, ‘nice to be wanted,’ he said.

‘By the right people it is,’ I said.

Finlay stopped and came back to Fry.

‘I need my weapon back Inspector, because like you if I lose my weapon I have to make out a report, I’m sure if you have your gun taken away you have to do the same, in triplicate.’

Knowing that if he were to lose or have his weapon taken, there would be an in depth enquiry, a lot of paper work and a black mark on the file, I also knew that it wasn’t an MI5 issue firearm, good on you Finlay.

‘I’ll see what I can do Miss Duncan, it may be a case of when you leave WA you get it back, that way it will keep the population safe,’ He gave her a wry grin and went back to the killing room to check on the forensics team.

We chatted for half an hour in her new room, she was determined to leave the next day, which made things a bit awkward as I didn’t have time to play nurse maid I had things to do; Find out what Harry Winters was up to, working the underground circuit no doubt, fingers in every pie that man.

Inspector Fry came into the room.

‘We are going to leave a man on the door Miss Duncan.’

‘After the horse has bolted, eh.’ I said.

He gave me the look.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow; we will escort you to the airport.’

‘Oh how nice,’ Finlay Duncan said wearily.

’’On the way back to my hotel I found an Internet café and logged on to the Darwin papers to see if anyone had reported the two dead men missing, the headlines read.

HEADS AND HANDS FOUND IN SUITCASE.

’It went on to say the police were looking into it. I’ll bet there will be an investigation on who leaked the information. More questions were being asked by the media and the fight that took place down a side street that a good citizen had reported. On the next page it said a small charter company Flight West was being investigated into drug related trafficking, it’s all happening in Darwin.

Chapter Twenty Nine

I booked a flight to Brisbane at eight o’clock under false names; business class.

Finlay was dressed in her new clothes and looked good.

‘Kill anybody over night?’ I asked.

‘I couldn’t, didn’t have my gun,’ she said in mock seriousness.

‘I bet that’s never stopped you before.’

‘You want to be careful then,’ Finlay said picking up her bag in her right hand.

On the way to the airport I said to her ‘by the way you’re Fiona Bradley,’ casting a look in her direction.

‘Oh is that one of the Essex Bradley’s.’

‘No, the Northampton Bradley’s, I sad.’

‘Oh bad lot, made their money in scrap metal.’

‘I bet they had a nice disposable business going on.’

‘Not just car bodies you mean. What name are you using?’

‘Tom Bell, thought it had a nice ring to it.’

‘Oh I don’t know you might have dropped a clanger there.’

We groaned and laughed; making bad jokes seemed to have eased the tension of past few days.

An hour out of Brisbane I made a phone call to Derrick Murray to borrow a car, he seemed only too pleased to help me, his son would meet me as before.

To say that I have changed in some way would be an understatement; the adrenalin rush of speed and power wasn’t a figment of my imagination, which at first I thought it was; I could feel it, like going from a four cylinder to an eight.

There was something else as well – maybe it was just pure guess work, it sometimes happens that a logical train of events leads to a predicable outcome, like guessing the next line an actor is going to say in a film. However, out of the blue without a clue or hint of what someone might be thinking; I know what they are going to say or do next. Does this come from experience, a known turn of events or something else?

I knew what Finlay was going to say next.

‘I’ll be leaving you at Brisbane.’

‘Going to your friends, having a well-earned break and think about your future.’

She gave me an odd stare.

‘And you don’t want me to know which state your friends live.’

She turned away and looked out of the window.

‘It’s bare, dry and desolate yet somehow beautiful,’ I said looking over her and out the window. Sitting back I asked her if she was in pain.

‘I have some tablets the hospital gave me.’

From the overhead locker I took her bag then went in search of water. After taking them, she sighed and laid her head back

‘How did you put up with three wounds, I’ll never know, it wasn’t very courteous of me was it.’ She closed her eyes.

We didn’t say very much for the rest of the journey, mainly because she slept for most of it. I knew what she was feeling about getting shot it will take her long while to get over it.

On landing I helped her with her bag and we stood searching for words of goodbye.

‘Did I thank you for the outfits you bought me, they are very nice.’

‘I believe you did,’ I said, ‘take care of that shoulder Finlay you have a way to go yet.’

I was about to kiss her on the cheek but she turned her head and gave me a soft sensuous kiss on the lips, I made it last and she didn’t object.

Murray’s son was waiting for me, it was only a short drive to the vehicle I was to use. It was parked in a service station about three Ks from the airport.

There was something odd about his behaviour, he never looked me in the eye, never spoke like dad say’s - hallo how you been and all that, I have met him before and he was always chatty, asking me what I had been doing, why can’t you tell me, was it a secret, today there had been a change of attitude.

At the service station he parked next to a small Ford, the car next to us backed out, he, the son whose name I think is Tony climbed into the car and roared off. Maybe I’m getting to be a suspicious old fart or maybe my training and experience was saying something’s wrong Charlie, or maybe the lad has personal problems.

I searched the car but couldn’t find any tracking device or anything suspicious, five minutes is not a lot of time to be sure, today’s technology is so far advanced you need up to date technology to find it and at this point I wasn’t carrying any. I would have to rely on old fashion methods and keep my eye on the rear view mirror. What I was doing in fact was distrusting Murray a man I have known for some time it saddens me to think so.

Putting my hand down beside the seat to adjust the position I felt a piece of paper, it was carefully folded with my name printed on top. Murray knew I would adjust the seat and this was his way of telling me something. Unobtrusively I put it into my pocket and went to the service station toilets.

Charlie it read, they have me over a barrel they have put a tail on you, no tracker, said you might find it as if you couldn’t spot them. There was no way I was going to drop an old mate in the shit. Be careful mate. It wasn’t singed, I flushed it down the toilet. This of course was exactly want they wanted him to do, whoever they were, which also meant I had missed the bug. Suddenly the roles were being reversed, instead of me doing the hunting down it was me who was being hunted. At school when I dabbled in the game of soccer our coach always told us - the best means of defence is attack, it doesn’t only apply to soccer, now it was time to do some attacking of my own.

Suddenly I had a thought: would I be taking on a whole Government Department or just an individual within, which begs the question how did they know I would land in Brisbane or did they cover several locations and hope?

Heading south I checked the cars behind me, across the Gateway Bridge down the M1 past the Gold Coast and into NSW and Tweed Heads, today I would probably get as far as Nambucca Heads, I could have gone farther but I wanted my wits about me; mistakes can be made when you’re tired.There was also the question of the bug or bug’s somewhere in my car and at the Heads I knew the person who could find them for me.

Stopping several times to refuel both the car and myself I carefully scanned the traffic, it depended of course the range of the bugs, the followers could stay some distance behind just following the beep on the scanner.

Were they waiting to visit me at an overnight stop, or was there going to be a requested rendezvous by someone in the office.

I reached Nambucca Heads deliberately just after dark and drove one block off the highway passing a row of shops, I found the one I was looking for, Torrisi Electronics

Chapter Thirty

The shop was closed but I knew where he lived and the phone number was displayed on the window. Using my non-traceable phone I called him.

‘Yes, Torrisi speaking.’

He still had his Italian accent.

‘Mister Torrisi do you remember me I’m a friend of Angelo’s, Charlie Kapps, I was in the service with him.’

‘Oh Charlie, of course I remember you, how you doing?’

‘Okay.’

‘Hey, where are you?’

‘Outside your shop.’

‘Hey you come up, Bella is cooking, how you say spag bog,’ he laughed.

‘Mr Torrisi I have a favour to ask.’

‘Well you ask it up here over a glass of wine yes.’

‘That sounds good I’ll see you in five.’

The street was still busy around the café’s and hotels, I checked out parked cars but didn’t recognise any that had been following me.

The Torrisi household lay in a curved cul-de-sac overlooking the Heads. I remembered the big house with its walled and iron railings and long sliding gate. As I approached the gate it slid open, I drove up a small gradient to twin garage doors, he was at my door as I opened it.

‘Charlie is good to see you.’ I noticed the accent had gone.

We shook hands and he pointed to the roller door opening.

’Drive in, he said.

Inside we went upstairs through stairs at the back of the house, Bella greeted me like a lost son, she was an attractive voluptuous woman in her early fifties and her dark hair was carefully coiffured. We had a glass of wine and another with the ‘spog bog’. Raff, he wouldn’t tell me his full name, he said I would laugh, took me down stairs to the car.

He had turned half the garage into a workshop, on a bench at the back, he had a cabinet full of small drawers containing small electronic components.

‘Now what can I do for you Charlie?’ Raff asked, still holding a glass of white wine, I explained.

‘Put up the bonnet and open the boot,’ Raff said opening a locked cabinet and withdrawing a black box slightly larger than a mobile phone.

He turned it on and pulled up an aerial, it started to beep. It became louder and faster as he approached the car.

Scanning the engine bay the meter clicked rapidly, Raff stopped at a place near the fuse box.

’Ah ha, he said reaching down into the bay, he fiddled about and came up with a tiny square black cube about ten by fifteen millimetres.

‘Look at that they are getting smaller and smaller, I remember when they were this big.’

He held up the meter.

Raff then turned his attention to the interior, the click was steady but as he moved to the back it grew faster, he went round to the back and moved the little black box around inside the boot.

‘It’s there,’ Raff pointed to a place underneath the back shelf.

I reached in and felt around, I pulled it off and showed Raff.

‘It’s just glued on, go over there and take them with you,’ He pointed to the back of the garage. He then did a further scan but it came up negative.

Putting away the meter Raff said.

‘What do you want to do?’

I told him.

‘But do you know where they will be parked and how do you know it will be them?’

‘Raff, they have to monitor my movements. One will sleep and the other will watch. They will be in sight of the cul-de-sac, have to in case I leave.’

‘You can stay the night.’

‘Thanks Raff but I don’t want you involved; if anything happened to you Angelo would be on my arse.’

‘Charlie, no one can get into this house, you climb the wall I know about it, you come in from the back I know about it’ he threw his hands wide, ‘security it’s my business.’

I still said no and he made a phone call. When he had finished he said. ’We will be ready in Twenty minutes.

Ten minutes later Raff had a phone call.

‘They have been located, we go soon.’

The idea was that a group of Raff’s young friends would appear to be drunk and surround the car distracting the men inside while one would fix one of the bugs to the number plate, it all went to plan and as I drove past the lads jeered and then went on their way. Making my way down to the highway I waited for a gap in the traffic and drove south; with my followers not far behind.

They were four or five cars behind there was no need to get any closer as their monitor showed me to be driving steadily ahead. What they didn’t know was that I had after twenty minutes thrown out the other bug into passing traffic. In fact they were following themselves.

In a small gravel road of the highway I watched them pass, now I could head inland and find a motel.

Chapter Thirty One

‘Any sign of him,’ the passenger asked trying to peer around the large truck in front.

‘No every fucking time I try to pull out some mad bastard tries to hit me, wait there’s a bend coming up I may be able to see something,’ moments past.

‘Well,’ said the driver’s companion.

Frustrated the driver cursed again.

‘No, I can see some light coloured cars but is it him…’ he swung back in lane.

‘Wait a minute, how long we been behind him?’

‘Bout thirty minutes, why?’

‘Well he hasn’t moved away from us, in fact he’s fucking close.’

The driver looked at the small screen and the small red dot.

‘Are we behind him, or in front of him? Because that fucking red dot hasn’t moved one bit, the first chance you get put yer foot down, we need to get a closer look.’

It was another six minutes before a straight stretch of road opened up, they took chances speeding past most cars on the dark unlit road.

‘He’s not here is he? Then where the fuck…’

’Shut up, the driver said, the man next to him knew better than to argue.

They had to reduce speed as the came into a small town, the driver pulled the car over.

‘Look, look…’ The man behind the wheel shouted angrily punching the screen, ‘according to that useless piece of shit he’s still here,’ he pointed to the dimly lit small town road. Ahead it showed nothing but small unlit houses and a distinct lack of moving cars

The dot had stopped moving.

‘What the fuck, I don’t understand there were two, we put in two, so it’s unlikely they would both go kaput – isn’t it?’

They were both out of the big dark blue car now the driver going to the back, he began to run his hands of the dust-covered boot lid and down the side panels.

‘Look for it,’ He shouted.

The other man well built with a six o’clock shadow and a broken nose said.

‘Look for what?’

‘The bug you moron, they put it in here when those drunken wankers were all over the car.’

‘Fuck, so we have been chasing ourselves, what a bastard.’

The driver was a wiry man under six-foot with receding long brown hair beady eyes, high cheekbones and under his hooked nose sprouted a ragged moustache, he poked the bigger man in the chest spaying spittle over him.

‘When I catch up with the bastard he’s going to die very slowly,’ he said shaking with anger, ‘he’d wished he had never fucked with me.’

He bent down and put his hand under the back bumper and began the move it along, he stopped at the number plate something black and square sat inches from his nose, a great scream rented the night.

Two men over nine hundred kilometres away were equally angry.

The taller of the two slammed down the phone and paused, then nodded to the other man sit, he then sat down with the two glasses on a large leather lounge.

‘This is costing me a fortune,’ he said, ‘or it will do if we don’t complete the contract,’ holding out one of the glasses, his ‘business’ partner took it.

’What are you going to do about Kapps?

‘That’s who it was, it wasn’t the other one.’

‘Set him up then kill the bastard, because if all this comes out we’re in the shit.’

‘I’ll give it another try, things are getting a bit sticky; I told them if you want two taken out you have to pay for two.’

“Yeah well, it’s not like kill one and get the other free is it?’

The man thought for a minute, ‘didn’t you tell me about this woman you know, she was really good.’

“Yes I did – do you want me to contact her.’

Yes tell her to be ready, I might have a plan.’

‘It’s not a cunning plan is it?’

But the other man was now lost in thought, if this didn’t come off, his head would be on the chopping block and the people he was dealing with if they didn’t get value for money would have no compunction about taking him out and that didn’t mean dinner.

Chapter Thirty Two

The thought of riding my BMW buoyed me and in Len Booth’s garage I had things that could help me in the coming days, which I knew would be troublesome.

I did a couple of laps of the block where Boothy lived in his flat over the garage; it looked clean no one slumped in cars doing nothing, misted up windows, or cigarette ends piling up on the road. Pulling up at the flat I searched my bag for the electronic opener, it had just started to open when Len came out on his small balcony.

‘Well look whose here,’ he said leaning on the rail.

‘I was just about to sell the bike and buy a bigger place.’

‘Hallo, you pommy bastard, thought I had better come by and pay some rent before you did sell it.’

‘Coffee?’

‘Love one,’ he made good coffee no instant or decaf for him. Walking into the garage I noticed the had been some changes, a metal tool cabinet stood against the wall open and empty next to where the bike stood. The bench opposite had signs of work similar to Raff’s place, mm I thought, what’s the pommy bastard up to.

There was a sheet over the bike I whipped it off, saw it was clean and ready to go.

‘Where did you get the ford from?’

I heard Len say behind me, he had a tray with coffee and cake

We drank and ate cake; I asked him what he had been up to.

‘I took a TAFE course in computers,’ he grinned self-satisfied.

‘Good on yer Len that should keep you out of trouble.’ my work phone rang, I walked out to the car.

‘Yeah?’ I said.

‘Mister Kapps, this is Mortimer.’

‘Mr Mortimer I’ve been waiting for your call. What have you got for me?’

‘Where have you been?’

‘Where you sent me, Darwin.’

‘Did you have anything to do with the body in the bag?’

‘Of course not, did as you told me, have a break and look into the hatch business.’

‘I have been trying to get in touch with you.’

‘Sorry had the phone turned off for some of the time. What did you want me for?’

‘I want a written report on what you did up there, and report in tomorrow, I presume you are ready to resume duties.’

’Yes.

’I believe Durham has a lob for you, let me know it goes Charlie and watch your back,’ he snapped off the phone.

That was an odd thing to say, I wonder how much he already knew.

I was about to go back into the garage when the phone rang again.

‘Yeah.’

‘You shouldn’t have done that dickhead…’

‘Done what?’

‘That fucking trick with the bug, well clever bastard I’ve got your girlfriend…’

‘No you haven’t because I don’t have one, needle dick.’

My heart felt a hand grip it tightly.

’I don’t care if she is or isn’t, I am going to have fun with her if you don’t come to me, if you don’t, then I’ll cut her up and send you the pieces. You have until midnight, then the fun begins.’

‘Do you have an address?’

He repeated the address of where to go. It was an old repatriation hospital at the bottom of the Blue Mountains. Vietnam vets went there to recover mentally and physically; it had been shut down and forgotten. I may be dealing with hired killers but they are what they are, stupid, because some of the training that we did on house to house combat had taken place there, I knew the area inside and out.

Len must have read something in my face.

‘Everything all right mate?’ He asked.

‘I’ve got to go out,’ I said tersely

‘Anything I can do?’

‘Those clothes you have of mine…’

‘I’ll get them for you.’

’Just the black stuff, the implication of the dark clothes struck a chord with him, he gave me a knowing look.

‘You going to be alright?’

‘Yeah Len I’ll be good.’

I opened a large box where I kept my special gear and took out the things I needed. Batteries, I thought, spare mag for the Glock and my zapper, which delivers a nasty jolt and renders the receiver immobile, long enough to gag and quickly fix nylon ties to him or hers hands and feet.

Boothy came back with black jeans, a dark shirt and a sleeveless jacket with many pockets.

I held it up.

‘Where did you get this from?’

‘Army surplus thought you could use it.’

It fitted.

‘Thanks mate it’s just what I need tonight.’

Len grinned happily; I began to load up the jacket.

“What are you taking the Ford or the bike”’ Boothy asked.

I stopped packing, ‘why do you ask?’

He grinned, ‘I went on the internet, there are storms coming in from the West.’

‘Computer course paying of mate, thanks.’

Before leaving I checked the panniers on the bike.

‘The battery is charged,’ Len said.

‘Talking about batteries do you have any of these?’

I held up a double A and a D.

‘Yeah and the tank is full, diesel isn’t it,’ he said with a straight face, handing me several packets of batteries.

We were both grinning knowing you don’t put diesel into a bike, pommy humour – I love it.

‘Thanks Len, you wouldn’t have any decent wire cutters would you?’

He went straight to his bench and took a pair off the wall, I put them in my panniers. Thanks Len I said as I mounted the bike and put on the helmet. Tossing him the car keys I said.

‘Use it.’ Then delving into my bag that was strapped to the back of the bike I handed Len a fist full of dollars.

He started to protest but I was already driving out and onto the road.

My mind played over the time I had been at the repat hospital, it was a collection of old buildings some prefab with the main admin block sitting long ways front on and centre, opposite to the main gate.

It had been enclosed with a wire fence when the military took it over.

It was almost nine thirty and with grey rolling clouds looming up from the west I had to get a move on. It would take me a couple of hours traveling to get there, and then I needed time to find where the reception, I mean the welcoming committee was and whom they were.Did they have Finlay Duncan? I was sure they hadn’t, I didn’t know where she was so how did they. I think I remembered she said she had friends in Adelaide but where she didn’t say. Finlay didn’t say she was going there and I didn’t see the flight she caught. It was a chance that I couldn’t take, it was dangerous but I have been in worse situations, if I am lucky it was an opportunity to have a few words with my protagonists.

Being back on the bike was great, the night was warm and the breeze from the open road cooled me. At the start of the Blue Mountains I pulled off the road and took my laptop out from the bag, I had charged it the night I stayed in the motel. I went into Goggle earth and logged on the repat hospital. Scanning the area I found a dirt road about a kilometre before the hospital turn off, the main road twisted and turned so if they were watching they wouldn’t see any car until it was almost at the turning and they would hopefully be looking for a small white Ford.

Passing through the small town of Springwood I looked for the road; finding it I motored as quietly as I could thankful for the BMW’s quiet engine.

Finding a gated entrance to grazing land I opened the gate and hid the bike behind a stand of native tress. Taking of the helmet and closing the Iron Gate I stood in the dark and let the night envelope me, looking upward I looked once more at the gathering of grey clouds against the dim sky. Checking my gear I strapped on my right wrist a compass then put on night glasses, which I would only use unless it was absolutely necessary, this was to save power.

The ground rose as it did for most places here; I could smell cattle and Eucalyptus blossom blowing from the tress, when getting to the top of the rise I checked the compass. The way up through the sparse bush was compatibly easy, now the vegetation grew thicker and the ground rockier. The compound should lie about half a kilometre to my right in a flat hollow. Any light the moon had earlier provided had now almost gone, rolling black clouds began to form, a sort of a prelude to the oncoming storm.

There were at one time gardens planted around the long hospital ward huts where the traumatised patients if they felt so inclined, could plant flowers or vegetables, it was thought the therapy of creating life, instead of taking it, would aid their recovery. In a few it did, for others it would take more, they were oblivious to the shapes and colours and were called vegetables by the nurses. Those poor tormented souls, some of whom were harmless, but others would suddenly erupt into violence still fighting the good fight, they were a danger to themselves and the others; those unfortunates were given a series of experimental drugs numbing their fractured minds hoping to find the one that would take away the horrors they had experienced. Other more dangerous ones were moved to a more secure facticity.

Now it had been left to nature and the once carefully tended flowerbeds had disappeared. Climbing over the wire fence that separated the grazing land from the Government land I carefully made my way to the wire fenced compound that contained the buildings of the old repat hospital. I cut a flap big enough to pass through and left the cutters behind, now the fun starts I thought.

All the buildings or wards had their back end to me and for safety there was a door in either end, the question was which one were they in? If he had been here before and was trained, he too may have night glasses and could be watching me at this very moment, assuming there was only one person waiting to kill me. Something told me they were not trained in some way and were just out for retribution.

Crouched among the long grass I could feel my physical and metal powers moving within me, it was a strange feeling, one that I had not yet fully come to trust. It was hard to say whereabouts in my body it starts from, along my back, a gentle revving of my heart and clarity of mind, it was an experience I have felt before, but the results were far different from the normal grip of fear. It ran across my shoulders giving me a shiver racing now through my arms and legs, it was time to move.

Going to the back of the next long wooden building I stood listening to the moving long grass, as small drops of rain began to fall. From my pocket I took out a linen black mask and put it on; at night the blob of a white face stands out, I heard the distant rumble of thunder; over the hills to my right I saw a brief flash of lightning. I tried the door, it was locked. I remembered whilst in training here, barging through pretending it was filled with the enemy, whoever they were. No crashing through here. Crouching down beside the two steps, I gently pushed at the bottom of the door hoping it was just stuck, it opened a fraction with a small squeak, I held my breath, I pushed again, the door didn’t open very far, just enough. Pulling down my night glasses I peered through the opening, I was close to the floor so anybody inside would shoot over me, no one did it was empty.

The night grew darker and the rain heavier and the storm launder, I could smell the rain on the dry soil, almost taste the earthy odour. The heavy rain was causing trouble, running down my face and into my eyes, reaching into my jacket I took out a black baseball cap, the peak helping to keep of the rain. I went inside the building the darkness was almost absolute. From one of my many pockets in the sleeveless jacket I took out a small LED torch, covering it allowing just a small beam of light I explored the hut. There wasn’t much to look at two cupboards at the far end one large one small, a desk sat askew to one side of the door and an iron bedstead covered with spider webs was positioned under a dirty window. The whole place had a thick layer of dust and looked like it had not been disturbed for years; there were no footprints save my own. Something under the bed took my attention it had the shape of a man; I stood close to the dusty wooden cut out figure of an Islamic looking man, I smiled at the thought of me rushing in and being faced with Abdul, a name for all the figures we shot at.

So where would he - they be? The Admin block? Outside the rain had increased making a cracking, shushing noise off the tin roofs. The noise would be on my side making it difficult for them to hear my approach; I had better take advantage before it stops; but it could also work for them.

At the fourth ward-hut down I paused in the darkness listening to what my senses had to say, it said a lot, I imagined the other occupants of the camp doing the same thing, listening, soaking wet, uncomfortable knowing that they couldn’t make a mistake.

Who in their right mind would be out on a night like this, creeping around in the dark hell-bent on killing somebody? At least the rain wasn’t blasting my eyes limiting my vision, I slipped on the night glasses for a few seconds. The storm was now at its peak and I had to be careful not to catch a lighting strike.

Instead of walking along the back of the buildings I walked to the front corner. Ahead of me stood the Administration block barely visible.

There were three rows of four, nose to tail with a twenty metre gap between each hut and ward, depending on whether you were there for training or medical reasons.It was bucketing down now and the storm was practically overhead. My thoughts were that he or they, would be in the front half of the complex waiting for a car. Had my assessment of one or two been wrong, were there three – or more. Lightening lit the old buildings behind me, thank god for a brief second the rain acted like a curtain casting an eerie out of focus picture; I whipped off my night glasses.

I sheltered under the eaves of the building waiting for another flash of lighting to be followed by a clap of thunder, it came and I went.

Pressing myself against the wall, I digested what I had seen when the lighting flashed, a wooden building with a set of steps in the middle and a man on the far corner, facing the main gate.

Keeping low I made my move. I was up to the steps when he bought a small radio receiver to his lips, going around the corner he moved to the front of the block, I gained ground and waited for the right moment.

With the rain on the roof it was difficult to hear him talk let alone see him. If I waited for him to come back, he might still have the radio on and if he saw me one yell would alert whoever he was talking to.

It was now or never, taking out the zapper from a sheath on my belt I switched it on and felt it charge up,peering around the corner; I saw his back was to me and was about to put his radio away.Two steps, I put my left hand over his face and jerked his chin up, then zapped into his neck, I released my hand.The Tasers have a high voltage and a low current, administer a half a second jab and the subject is disorientated and in great pain, a two second jab sends them into spasms, muscles are attacked and great pain adds to the disorientation and hem lose control of their legs and fall down incapable of defending themselves.

He lay on the floor twitching and moaning while Inylon tied his hands and feet together, then taped his mouth shut. I hardly finished when the radio burst into life, I let it go and searched the man who was now waking up.Putting his wallet and phone in my pockets, I eased out the radio from its holder, then ’going around the side of the block nearer the eves where the sound of rain was heavier I grunted into the radio.

‘Yeah.’

‘Any sign?’ A voice said.

‘Nar.’

‘Can hardly fucking hear you, bloody rain, I’ll relieve you in ten,’ click, the radio shut off.Reaching up to the door above the steps, I carefully tried the handle; it turned. Rather than enter I decided to wait.

The radio chattered.

’I ‘m coming out, any sign of him?’

‘No,’ I mumbled.

‘‘Where are you?’ The voice said, ‘have you moved?’

Taking out the Taser I mounted the steps watching the handle for movement, it started to move, I barged in knocking him of balance aiming for his face, it struck him in the side of the neck, he tried to avoid me by kicking and flaying about on the floor I did the same to him as I had done to his mate, nylon tied him and taped his face shut.

I flicked on a small LEDF light, There wasn’t much to see; an early seventies desk sat facing the front door, dust covered cupboards doors open showing empty shelves and a half a dozen wooden chairs the from the government supply office. There was a flask and a couple of cups on the table together with some chocolate bar wrappers.

Dragging the man to the desk I went through his pockets – wallet, phone, car keys. It’s amazing what you can find out about a person from those few simple things. Among the finds there was a Berretta pistol, a spare magazine and a flick knife.

I slapped him on the face several times

‘Wake up…’ I looked at his driving licence, ‘Frank.’

The light on his face was only small but it blinded him from seeing me, to him I was a voice in the dark.

’I am going to look for your friend Frank don’t try to escape or I will kill you, my voice barely audible above the noise on the roof, I turned off the torch, from the pitch-black room I said quietly, ‘Tell your friend that when I bring him in.’

He was a big man and heavy with rain, bumping up the three steps I hauled him into the hut; his mate was doing his best to free himself.

Standing at the back of the admin block I stood ready to find the other assassin when a jagged flash of lighting and half a second later a huge clap of thunder shook the building, I swear the earth moved. The lightning must have struck the wire fence at the end of the enclosure, sparks flew high arcing into the darkness, during that brief period of light, I saw a dark figure run from right to left and disappear behind one of the huts. Running out into the storm which was now directly overhead, the noise on the tin roofs changed, it was suddenly made worse by the sound of marble sized hailstones.

Reaching the space where the man had disappeared I walked through the long grass, thumbing the safety off the Glock.

He was in the open going to the next hut, I yelled above the storm at the dark shadow at the wire fence.

’Stand still mister and…’He started to turn an arm pointing towards me, I was already falling forward into the long wet grass, ’

There wasn’t much to see except for the three muzzle flashes from his gun, I fired twice aiming about one o’clock above the firing, I stopped shooting and rolled to my left, knowing he would have seen the flash from the Glock. Although it was too dark to tell if I had hit him; I lay on the wet ground amidst hailstones and long wet grass. I raised the Glock and resting on my elbows, waited, all the time being hammered by large round pieces of ice. The hail ceased as fast as it started, in its path I could hear the shedding trees, I heard another noise a faint cough behind me somewhere in the dark, I rolled to my right shedding balls of ice into the long grass. Levelling the pistol at a dark hunched form about ten metres away, I rolled once more to my right.

The rain had eased; sight and sound were marginally better.

The figure fell forward on two hands and coughed again, I stood and approached, the form fell sideways making wheezing noises gasping for breath, using my foot I pushed him on his back then with the barrel of the gun I pushed back the hood that covered the face - only it wasn’t a man it was a woman; blood gushed and splattered from her mouth.

Undoing her coat I saw that she had been shot in the left and right lung and taken another in her left hip. Finding my torch I looked around for her weapon and put it out of her reach behind me.

There was a small bag attached to a belt on the right side, on the left a holster. Pocketing her phone and purse I shone the torch on her face, from what I saw she was a large boned woman maybe in her mid-thirties with broad features, small lips and wearing little make up.

Picking her up I went to the nearest hut and put her inside, I did the same to the man; my pockets were getting rather full I thought as I took the man’s phone and wallet, I left the weapons beneath them.

Hannah that was the woman’s name on the licence was barely breathing.

‘Anything to say Hannah?’ I said.

Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth she tried to speak I listened hard; I thought it was ‘lucky bastard’ but I wasn’t sure, her eyes went blank.

At the Admin block the two men were trying to remove each other’s tapped mouths. I pulled up a chair.

‘Well that was quite a storm,’ I yanked the tape of their mouths and turned on the torch; they blink and looked away from the bright light.

‘Who’s the woman?’ I said carefully watching their reaction.

‘What woman?’ Frank Jones said spitting glue from around his mouth, not answering I found the other man’s wallet and phone and looked up his name. Laying the contents on the table, not worrying about fingerprints as I was wearing thin cotton gloves, there was the usual junk, old business cards, credit cards, cards for this club and a photo of two small girls and a tired looking woman.

‘Got a family a George, nice looking girls want to tell me who the woman is George.’

‘What fucking woman,’ he said, I almost believed him.

At this point I had sensed the danger to be minimal so my rush of power had diminished somewhat but not my other psychological judgement which I had found does not ebb and flow with the adrenalin rush, it stays longer and it was getting longer all the time, In other words my sense of awareness and insight is growing.

‘There’s no woman here Kapps just the two of us and the person or persons who are here to kill you, we’re not…’

‘Your mates dead Frank so is the female shooter.’ I interrupted.

There was a brief silence.

‘My name by the way is not Kapps whoever he is, I’m from another Government Department, one you haven’t heard of.’ I believed them about not knowing the female shooter; I could see the resignation of fate when I told them their mate was dead.

‘So who sent you?’ I said.

‘Dunno,’ George Said, ‘but I do know your name is Kapps.’

’Don’t tell me you had a phone call, follow the man called Kapps and kill him. Only I hear he made you two look like a couple of twats.So he was supposed to come here and be killed. Have you heard of a Hannah?’ two blank looks.

‘Well she was killed by your mate. Now if as you say you don’t know her what was she doing here? She was killed as your mate tried to kill me; it was dark and scary what with all that thunder down under, but have you thought why she was here?’

George and Frank looked at each other, ‘if you will shut up for a minute, we’ll tell you.’

‘You tell him George, before he kill’s us,’ Frank said.

‘She was armed, does that give you a clue,’ I said beginning to wonder what was going on.

‘You’re not listening for fucks sake,’ Frank snarled.

‘We are not here to kill you, we’re here to protect you,’ George sounded impatient.

For a second I shut up, thinking if that was true they hadn’t done a very good job.

‘You‘re here, to protect Kapps?’

‘Yes – alright we didn’t do the job - could you cut these ties off they’re killing me.’ Frank said.

‘You say you are here to help me, so in a bloody great storm we have four people all fighting each other.’

’George sighed, ‘five if you include yourself and if it’s true what you say, two of them shot each other.’

‘The phone,’ Frank got excited, ‘the text,’ he looked at me eyes wide. ’Check the phone, my phone.

’If you are trying for a stay of execution…’

‘I’m not,’ he wriggled trying to get more comfortable.

Finding the phone I turned it on and went into text messages, the last one read - maybe 2 now.’

‘You mean she was here to kill us as well,’ George gasped, he obviously hadn’t seen or understood the text, there’s two, not one as expected.

‘Not quite, who sent you?’ If I could find out who then maybe I could find the link.

‘Now who knew you were coming here?’ I asked, looking up at the roof, the rain had abated some what

There were glances between them.

‘So,’ I continued, ‘that meant three bodies to get rid of. You thought there would be one, she thought there would be two, by the morning there could have been a bloody army here.’’

‘Could you cut these and free our legs, its fucking painful.’ Frank Jones said.

‘Tell me who hired you and I’ll think about it.’

George Bing spat dust from his mouth.

‘Why would we do that, you’re going to kill us.’

Picking up his phone I found ‘home’ and dial keeping it near Bing’s face.

A young girl answered it.

‘‘Hallo, is daddy there?’ I saw Bing’s face show concern.

‘No, I mustn’t talk to strangers.’ her voice was sweet and innocent.

‘I’m a friend of George, what’s your name?’

‘I mustn’t talk to strangers,’ she said sweetly.

‘Can I talk to mummy then,’ I heard the phone clatter down.

‘She’s getting mummy,’ I said.

I said to Bing, he writhed on the floor swearing and threatening. I held up hand and said ’mouthed shush pointing to the phone.

‘Hallo, who’s this?’ Her accent was broadly Australian.

‘Is George there?’

‘No who’s this.’

‘My name’s Frank.’

‘Oh Frank I didn’t recognise you.’

I broadened my accent.

‘I thought he was with you,’ she said.

‘Yeah he was, alright love, see yer later,’ I clicked off.

‘Who hired you?’ I asked again knowing that he had got the message. The rain had stopped and it was quiet.

‘I told you we had a phone call, it’s the way we do business, no see, no talk.’

’That’s our slogan, no see no talk,’ Frank Jones said. ’

‘So what did the phone call tell you to do?’

‘It was faxed to us, your photo and what to do.’

‘Was that usual – the fax bit,’ I asked.

Frank spoke, ’only if it’s urgent and before you ask we got it at three thirty this arvo.

I mulled this over, ‘was there any way to trace it?’

‘No we tried once and got another fax saying don’t do that again, so we didn’t.’

So someone else knew I was coming here and laid on some protection, begs the question how close are these two people.

Gathering the collection of wallets and phones I began to put them back into their respective pockets. The guns I left on the table.

At the door I said, ’may I make a suggestion, find another occupation, you are not very good.

I went back and cut their bonds, I turned off my LED light, I left them in the dark groaning as they rubbed their wrists, poor babies.’

I left and made my way back to the cut fence and across the wet grassland to my bike. Flipping the cover off, I phoned the police giving them information about gunshots and dead bodies.

Chapter Thirty Three

The ride back to Sydney was wet and dangerous, minor flooding and strong winds had scattered the roads with debris. Waking Len up this time of night; it was half past two, wasn’t on so I booked into a motel, I was glad Finlay wasn’t held there, I wondered where she was.

The next day a quick breakfast from a nearby café and on the road.

Stopping at a park I made a call to Harry Winters, I heard it divert several times, then rang three times.

‘Yes,’ Harry said.

‘Is this a safe line?’ I asked.

‘Yes, I’m glad you phoned I have something I want to talk to you about.’

‘You want to go first Harry.’

‘What have you been up to, more death and destruction?’

‘Harry, how could you think of me in that way,’ he chuckled, ‘I’ll go first. There is some talk about C4.’

‘The plastic explosive?’ he carried on.

Certain people are having a look, I think this ties in with what you have been saying.’

‘When you hear what I have to say you will know for certain.’ I said.

‘Right, in a minute Charlie, the powers that be have this problem, if something is, shall we say a bit out of shape it’s going to be a rather embarrassing situation, one of the Government covert departments is a bit wonky – well you know what I mean.’

Now my intuition - I’m calling it that for the time being, says I baulk at the idea that my mental powers are now catching up with my physical abilities. Christ I’ll be speaking to the dead soon and I know one or two who would want a word me –so, no way is it happening. Then again it could be that when one is in this game for so long and you recognise a certain scenario that is about to happen, you could say it’s based on experience.There was a strong chance though, that I am in self-denial about this – the knowing I mean and that Harry will ask me to participate in some sort of solution to the problem of C4. In other words he wants me to take someone out, kill the bastards whoever they are.

‘Are you trying to tell me something Harry, like if someone in C4 is found to be a naughty boy it cannot be seen to be and you want to set an example. Why not just charge them with the Official Secrets Act that must cover a lot of ground, it could be held in camera, or is there something else that I don’t know about.’

‘Charlie there is always something else, no one knows all, it’s done that way, on a need to know basis.’

‘Yes Harry I do know that.’

‘Before we go any further tell me what happened after I left you.’

’I gave him all I thought he needed to know.

’So the woman was to take out the killer after he had disposed of you, it could go on and on, but someone engaged two men to cover your back, doesn’t seem they were needed, not with you around, it’s almost laughable, but very apt,shooting each other.’

‘Yes, in trying to take out me, I was already on the floor ready to shoot him, he saw a figure behind me, thought it was me and fired. I put them in one of the wards.’

‘Well now that does answer a lot of questions.’ He was silent for a moment.

‘Did you want it to look like an accident?’ I said.

More silence, then finally.

‘I’ll get the address you want then we will talk again.’ Click, he was gone.

Harry Winters works for other security departmentI’m sure, is it ASIS the equivalent to MI6, shit if he did it would explain a lot of why Finlay Duncan is here, the phrase ‘pulling stings’ comes to mind – and he did work in Hong Kong. Who is he talking to now, will he be able to dispose of the two dead killers and do they have families who will ask questions, decisions will take time unless there is somebody who has the power, the ultimate man, the faceless one.I know how it works, it’s the same in the armed forces or any big company, pass the buck – it’s not my fault you gave the go ahead, it’s called covering your arse.

Pushing on to Len Booths place I made plans for what I knew was going to be an inevitable step. It bought to mind how long had this been going on for, in this game it all comes down to power and money – money means power - power means money, hand in hand.

Boothy met me on his balcony over the garage drinking coffee. Kicking the stand down and removing my helmet I saw him indicating to his cup I nodded and went upstairs.

‘Glad to see you’re back safely,’ he said pouring the black liquid into a cup, I sugared and milked it myself.

‘You get a storm here last night Len?’

‘Yeah a right doozy, hail stones as well; you?’

‘Yea,’ I left it at that. ‘Where’s the Ford?’

‘Two doors down, I saw the green band coming in with the storm,’ he gave me a small smile, ‘I’ve made friends with the lady who has the garage, she doesn’t drive so there was space.’

‘So you spent the night, comforting her through the storm,’ it was my turn to smile – but how did I know that?’

Len asked the same question.

‘You hadn’t slept in your bed,’ the answer was quick, so how did I know that, the bloody door was shut. Thankfully he didn’t question it, he did however give me a strange look.

We went down stairs.

Len pointed to the steel cupboard with the padlock hanging on the hasp.

’It’s yours, thought it might be better for you, you seem to be accumulating more stuff.

He was right my box was full.

‘‘Thanks Len,’ I said gratefully,’ as I was putting the contents of the box into the cupboard I asked him about his lady friend.

‘She’s a widow, has been for a couple of years now, seems a bit silly not to be friends, she’s lonely and I’m in the same boat…’

’Good on yer Boothy; is she blind? I said as the phone vibrated in my pocket, I walked down to the bike.

‘Cheeky bugger,’ he called after me.

‘Harry,’ I said.

’Charlie, here’s the address.

‘Got it,’ I didn’t have to write it down, it just stayed there fixed in my mind.

‘And here is another one – okay?’

‘Got it.’

‘And here is a number that will help you with the last address 4901’

‘It’s the code for the security pad, there will be no one home after eight thirty tomorrow, he is expected home about nine o’clock.’

‘How sound is that information.’

‘Good we will delay him until then.’

‘What do you want me to do, catch him with his pants down.’

‘We want him in prison for a long time Charlie and his mate if he has one, but don’t put yourself at risk, we will cover your back.’

‘How many times have I heard that Harry, I’ve got to tell you Mr Harry Winters that if anything does happen to me a lot of people will know and you will be able to read about it and see it on the telly.’

There was a brief silence.

‘Charlie, do you really think I would do anything like that?’

‘Yes, if you were told to do so.’

You don’t know me Charlie; it was said to me the time you were in that warehouse not to put myself out saving your arse.’

‘And the man I’m going after was the man who told you, right, but surely there must be a price on your head as well.’

‘You are wasted in that job you should be in administration and yes there is Charlie, a big one, remember I killed one of the sons.’

No way was I going to sit behind a desk, but I didn’t tell him that.

‘Well there’s a thought.’

‘If you need anything call me, take care Charlie.’

What I had told him about writing everything down wasn’t quite true, any time I stopped at a hotel or motel I would put down dates on what had happened on one of those digital recorder. I would ask Len if he could do me some copies.

Walking back to Len I asked if he could do this.

Yeah, a couple of years ago, no, but now.’

‘Where’s the nearest hotel Len, anything will do.’

‘What you want a hotel for; I’ve got two bedrooms you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like…’ He suddenly looked a bit sheepish.

‘I probably won’t be sleeping here tonight – Ah,’ he said holding up his hand at the garage door, ‘won’t be a minute - I’ll come back and show you how to open that thing.’

I continued to empty the box and fill the steel cabinet, but my mind wasn’t on the task, it was on the next day and how I was going to handle it that loomed large in my thoughts.

Len came back grinning.

‘Dinner in about an hour,’ he said.

‘Len I don’t want cramp your style mate…’

‘No, I want you to meet her; she’s a great cook as well.’

‘Okay then.’

We didn’t speak for a few minutes.

‘Len what are you doing tomorrow?’

‘Nothing mate what do you need?’

‘Do you still drive?’

‘Yeah, of course I do.’

‘This may seem a bit odd asking you to do this for me and I will understand if you say no.’

‘I won’t know unless you tell me will I?’

I told him.’

‘Shit really, I could do that piss easy.’

‘Okay thanks mate, can I use your shower when I come back, I should just make the shops I need some new clothes.’
‘Charlie you don’t have to ask.’

I bought a pair of dark jeans a couple of good shirts and some underwear.

The bedroom was small but comfortable and I dressed in my new clothes after showering. Len gave me a call and we went to dinner.

She was part Asian and very attractive, as with most Asian women it was hard to tell her age. She was slim with short dark well-cut hair wearing a tight skirt and a sleeveless white blouse. Her eyes were big behind the rimless glasses.

‘Hallo,’ she said smiling and shaking my hand.

‘My names Charlotte, most of my friends call me Charlie.’

I laughed and looked across at Boothy; he could hardly contain his laughter.

We were all grinning at each other.

‘He’s told me a lot about you – Charlie,’ she said.

‘Is that so Charlie?’

It was a great dinner; Portuguese lamb chops with some sort of fried rice and a delicious sauce. We ate and talked for about ninety minutes then Len gave me the sign, a gentle move of the head telling me to go.

Suppressing a grin I said my goodnights.

After preparing the gear I needed for the next day I lay on the bed thinking about Len and Charlie. I realised that I had no permanent home, relying on friends and hotels for my accommodation. In a way I envy Charlotte and Len, but it was entirely of my own making, my choice.

Waking at six I made coffee and went to rouse Len that was a waste of time the lucky buggers bed hadn’t been slept in, five minutes later he came in slightly dishevelled. We had some toast and I went over again what I wanted him to do.

‘You will stay in the car until I call.’

Len nodded.

‘I’m going to get my laptop, go into Google Earth.’

‘Do it on mine,’ Len Booth said booting up and finding the address I was looking for.

‘Len before we go any further…’

‘I know I’ve got to keep shtum, I used to be in the game – well sort of not to your level…’

It was my turn to say, ‘I know, you were an MP, a redcap in the army,’ I grinned.

The street in which the house was located was a leafy affair with big houses and well planted gardens, but for the moment I was only interested in the houses backing on to it, they sat in a cul-de-sac making the blocks of land staggered as the plots curved.

’I have to get out of that yard from here to you. I’ll go in the front; this maybe a wasted journey for you Len.

‘That’s okay gets me out. Suppose you don’t find what you’re looking for?’

‘I’ll phone, you will have to park there,’ I jabbed the map, ’as soon as I give you the bag leave, that is if there is a bag, take it easy don’t get caught speeding. You will come in from this side do not go anywhere near this street.’ I said pointing to Lavender Ave, ‘that will be under surveillance.’

‘Suppose the occupants of the house won’t play ball and let us park there.’

‘They will or I will have to arrest them,’ I joked.

‘Does this mean I’m your deputy?’

‘More like Tonto.’

‘Oh yeah me heap brave.’

‘No, you bloody driver.’

It was time for some investigation and reconnoitring, I told Len I would see him later. Going to a house in the eastern suburbs on my bike I found the road I was looking for and cruised the road looking for signs of observation. The actual road was clear but either end, out of sight two cars were parked with bored looking people inside. One, to relieve his cramped legs, got out and watched me go up the street and turn into a large circular drive way about half way down.

The door was answered by an elderly woman in her late fifties wearing a patterned lilac top and a long skirt of a similar colour.

Yes,’ she said suspiciously.

Taking off my helmet I showed her a Special Branch ID card.

‘Hallo ma I’m David Evans Special Branch may I have a word.’

Keeping the chain on the door she called out.

‘Jack darling will you come here a minute, there’s a man to see you,’ she turned back to me stony faced.

Jack was in khaki shorts and a green cotton tee shirt and was in his early to mid-sixties, tall and just getting a paunch, he grey hair was thin and he was carrying a pair of reading glasses.

The woman whispered to him, he shot me a quick look.

‘Special Branch?’ He said, a man of few words and used to getting his own way.

‘ID,’ he said.

The size of the house and its locale, the way the gardens were immaculately landscaped I would say he was some sort of high executive business man.

Giving the card back he asked what they could do for me.

‘May I come in?’ I hadn’t come to the house without some investigation of the owners; it wasn’t much so I would have to bluff what I didn’t know and observe their behaviour, simply wing it.

‘Are you armed?’ Jack asked.

’Yes sir. ’I slid down the zip on my coat so that he could see the butt of my Glock.

They stood back and ushered me in, once seated in a soft leather lounge suite he asked if I would like a drink, I chose water.

‘How can we help?’

The woman was nervous a good sign, Jack sat upright nursing a large whiskey, not his first of the day by the smell on his breath. I wondered what business he was in. he fished his drink and poured another, his wife gave him the look.

‘Do I need a lawyer?’

‘Lord no sir, I need your help.’

‘How?’

I told them, ‘I wish to park a car on your driveway tonight, we are doing a special op, and we need to be discrete so to speak. When one car leaves, another will take its place, that’s all.’

‘Really,’ said the woman.

‘However you must not say anything about this to any one, to do so could cause you some – well bother.’

Jack started to speak I cut him off by standing and looking around the room.

‘Lovely house you have here sir, comfortable are we in our retirement.’

There were signs I was picking up, I refuse to accept my physic ability was revving up, putting it down to instinct and good guessing. The woman was getting more nervous and he was going to the bar again. She whispered to him that was enough.

‘I don’t know what you are trying to say, but we have nothing to hide,’ Jack slurred.

Don’t play poker I thought.

‘We do not just walk in here and ask for your help Jack, we look at you first.’

Jack gulped his drink and started to raise the bottle his wife made to rise but he held her down.

‘So can I count on your co-operation sir?’ I said looking once more admiringly around the room.

The woman rose.

‘Yes of course.’

‘One more thing is there any way I can gain access to the neighbours back garden.’

‘Er yes, the previous owners put a gate in, seems there was a lot of goings on, they got caught out.’

‘Would you show me please; what’s your name?’

‘Ester.’

She led me through the French doors leading from the lounge and to the back fence, then to the left hand corner. Grass the other side of the fence hindered it a little, but it opened enough. I closed the gate.

‘Now Ester, I have to have a quick word and this is very important, is there a way down the side of the house where one of my team can get through this gate unhindered.’

‘There is a looked gate, but I can open it.’

‘Good just until about midnight and Ester don’t peek don’t ring anybody; just watch the telly as if nothing is happening. I hope I’m clear on all this - am I?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded vigorously.

‘Now you can let me out by the side gate.’

I didn’t care what they were hiding as long as they co-operated.

At a quarter past eight I was back at the house parking my BMW a few doors down from the targeted house. I saw the watchers as I entered the street, wanted them to see me so they knew I had been riding my bike, no doubt whilst I am inside they will give it the once over maybe even bug it. There were two cars and a van, I said I would set up a couple of mikes so that they could listen in and tape anything incriminating.

Going through the gardens I went to the back door, it was bolted. I went around to the front picked the lock and punched in the numbers on the security pad. There was a large entrance that led down to a kitchen; immediately to the left was a study, to the right was a small empty room, off the kitchen to the right in a small open space was a formal eating area; in front of the bench top was a table and six chairs. The area led down two steps to a large lounge with three seater settees and a bar with a glass cabinet. Behind the wall with an arch that led down to this area I saw three suitcases and a large attaché case. I put the cases on the kitchen table then set about hiding the microphones, I checked my watch, it was seventeen minutes to nine so I had to hurry. I didn’t want to do this next part; it wasn’t my job to catch out a corrupt member of the team. I picked the locks on the cases and found nothing incriminating in any of them, it looked like they had been packed for a long holiday. I made a phone call, then locked the last case.

I was a bit disappointed, so I quickly searched the rest of the house, what I was looking for could not be easily hidden. I found nothing; then in thought mode I went to the window overlooking the garden, where would he hide it? I was running short of time.

I saw the shed, it was on the far left hand corner so I ran down stairs.

The shed was about three metres wide by four metres long and was heavenly padlocked, why? What was inside a small shed that it required it to be locked? It wasn’t locked for long, opening the door I scanned the interior with my LED torch, I could see nothing of value.

A few rusty garden tools a crude wooden bench, with large wooden box on the far end of the bench. A shelf on the far wall was littered with a small box of nails and screws. The floor was laid with odd shaped pavers, at the door lay a small carpet.

Before entering I cast the beam of light around the door but could see no sign of wires.

The whole setup was odd, a carpet paved floor nothing worth stealing yet a heavy padlock on the door.

My feeling about the place was confirmed when I lifted up the small mat. Beneath was a trigger devise for setting off an alarm, I stepped over and began to search. The pavers were poorly laid leaving gaps, these were filled with dust and dirt, I came to the box, it was about a metre long and half a metre wide and deep, there was no lid , inside lay some bags of garden fertiliser. I pulled it away and saw pavers with no dirt in the gaps. I remember seeing a trowel on the bench, I levered up two pavers and stared and the handle of a suitcase. The hole had been made to fit the black medium size case so slotted tightly in, I heaved it out, this could only be one thing – my phone rang.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘He’s two blocks away.’ Said the voice, then shut off.

The case was heavy and I was careful not to tread on the mat, with case in one hand and phone in the other I called Len and put the case through the fence gate, I then tidied up the shed, checking it out once more in the doorway. Snapping on the padlock I went into the house.

In the kitchen I heard a car circle the drive way, I made coffee while I rang another number. I heard someone enter the house via the front door.

Chapter Thirty Four

I reported in to the C4 office the next day and sat in the outer office wondering who was now the Director and his deputy.

‘You can go in now,’ the woman on the deck said.

‘Charlie,’ said Grahame Grahame, ‘sit down.’

‘Promotion?’ I asked glibly.

‘Sort of, we will have to see. First, this is no longer C4, that has been - disbanded, second, do you have a suit?’

Where was this going I thought not another bodyguard duty?

‘I have but not one I can access quickly.’

‘That’s okay, go to the basement.’

The basement was like a store for special op’s catering for any gadget, weapon, electronic devisee’s, disguises, computer assistance like research, or any information not normally available through normal channels.

’If C4 have been axed what’s this department called? ’I asked.

‘C3, which brings me to your next job; before we do that have you had any thoughts on the missing money.’

‘Yes, I wish I had it.’ I said grinning, ‘why are we so sure there was money, if he was corrupt, wouldn’t, whoever was paying him put it straight into a foreign bank under a false name.’

Grahame tried to smile but just couldn’t quite make it.

‘Yes you’re right of course and we had thought of that, it would be hard to accesses it from here though, If he did it on the computer we would pick it up. When did the surveillance team arrive?’

‘Just after dark, they knew Durham wouldn’t be there until about nine thirty because we were holding them back at a special meeting, why do you ask?’

I had to let the idea come from him so I did some more prompting.

‘Did either Montrose or Durham leave the office during the day?’ I knew they were under surveillance, had to be.

For a second or two Grahame looked at me blankly I could almost read his thoughts. He turned to a pile of folders and pulled one out and scanned it.

‘Yes he did.’

Who?’

‘Montrose, he went out for coffee to a nearby shopping centre, he bought coffee and cake – and made a phone call from a public box.’

‘What time was that?’ I asked.’

He checked.

‘Nine thirty three.’

‘Mm,’ I looked thoughtful.

‘Has anyone spoken to the….’

‘Neighbours,’ he finished, grabbing the phone he stood and began to walk around the office talking quietly.

‘I’ve got someone on to it,’ he said, them he came back and sat down. ‘Now the other business, you have to go to Canberra to testify so while you are there I have a job for you.’ I remained mute, for a few seconds then I asked.

“This is probably none of my business being just an operative in the firing line, but what evidence do you have against Durham? Did you find any at the house?’

‘We have some…’

‘But enough?’

“We are still working on that.’

“Are you in charge now,’ I asked trying not to sound too interested.

‘For a while…’

So why am I going to Canberra?’

‘To testify against Durham,’ he was getting impatient.

‘You have to leave tomorrow, sooner if possible.’ Grahame lent back in his chair there’s one other thing. This new position I have taken requires a deputy, it has been suggested that you apply; I might say that there is no other applicant.’

‘Have you listened to the tapes of our conversation?’ I asked referring to the bugs I had planted.

There was a hint of hesitation a look of don’t go there. ‘Yes of course…’

I cut him off, ‘then you will have noticed there was no hint of self-incrimination no evidence you could use, so…’

His head had risen a little, was he trying to convince me or himself.

“We have other evidence…’

‘So why am I going to …’

‘To give evidence,’ he said.

Corruption that’s what this is all about and here I am being told that if I say what certain people want me to say I will be offered an administrative position, welcome to covert operations.

‘I think my going to give evidence will be a waste of time, I have nothing to say that will in any way help.’

‘I understand, all we are looking for is the truth.’

Bullshit I thought, then something came to mind. C4 has been cancelled and with the state of the economy C3 will be next, were do all the chiefs go, not to play with Indians that’s for sure, so! Jobs will go, so…

He wasn’t hard to read, his hands were grasped over his belly, there was no indication in his eyes of any encouragement, the message was clear.

‘I don’t know who suggested that I apply, but you were against it weren’t you?’

He was surprised but recovered quickly.

‘Yes I was, I think you would be bored out of your skull, also you are an exceptional operative and would be completely wasted behind a desk.’

‘I agree,’ I said much to his relief.

The phone rang, Grahame answered it and said yes, okay right, thank you.

‘What do I do when Philips comes back?’

‘There will be a committee taking depositions before the trial we will fit you in before you come back here. I have another job for you.’

‘First I am not going to speak to the committee and second do I have to kill any one.’ I said bluntly.

‘I cannot make you give evidence…’

‘I don’t have any,’ I said.

No Charlie, you think you don’t, well I can’t make you. Killing someone? Is there anyone you would like to kill Charlie?

There is I thought, but he is in prison.

‘What I want you to do while you are in the capital is to try and find out who is leaking information about the in-camera hearing.’

‘Someone is talking to the press? Has to be someone in the know, any suspects?’

‘That’s for you to find out,’ Grahame said.

‘Where do I stay in Canberra?’

‘It’s already booked, a small hotel near the court house.’

‘Anything else.’

‘Don’t forget you are now C3, your powers are now marginalised. You will also be travelling down to Canberra in a Government jet, it leaves at three o’clock and yes a car will be provided.’

That gave me time to collect some’ tools’ from Len’s place.

‘We go Monday,’ Len said excitedly, ‘doing a cruise around the Pacific islands, great eh.’

‘Got separate cabins have you,’ I joked.

‘In your fucking dreams, not even separate beds,’ he moved his arm back and forwards.

‘You dirty lucky sod,’ I said.

‘I’ll drink to that, let’s have a beer.’

Chapter Thirty Five

The hotel was okay so was the car, a small Suzuki. I had bought several shirts to go with my light grey suit which I hung in an empty wardrobe. I was to report to a Mr Barrett at seven thirty somewhere in Parliament house.

At the airport I had picked up a local paper to see if there was any mention of the hearing.

A column called ‘rumour has it’, written by some obscure hack by the name of ‘titbits’, it was slagging off a certain civil servant who was seen coming out of a gay bar, no names mentioned, nudge, nudge. He then goes on to say he hears about two highly place civil servants have been given the axe, more to come on that one – he writes. Talking to him would only add fuel to his already smouldering fire and he would always throw at me his sources as confidential and all that bull shit. There was always the case of fighting fire with fire; I would use the services of the department to closely gather any ‘titbits’ about his private life. People who dig the dirt have to get dirty themselves, so let’s see how dirty he is.

I made a phone call and arranged to get the ball rolling, if there wasn’t any dirt, which was unlikely, I’m sure something tempting could be arranged, like an underage girl, there are plenty of those on the street selling themselves to lusty old men trying to claw back some of their youth. Of course the hack could be a woman, which presents an alternative scenario.

It was time to call Grahame, explain to him what I wanted and why, he said he would arrange something.

Going through the usual security checks I eventually found Barrett’s office. It was tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the political arena.

A middle age woman looked up from her computer gave me the obligatory smile and asked what could she do for me, her gold metal tag said, Helen. After telling who I was she asked me to sit and that Mr Barrett will be with me soon.

Ten minutes later Barrett was telling me my duties, two days later I was telling him about the lack of security that surrounded him. Pushing a written report across the desk I said. ’These are the reconditions, he read them.

‘They seem reasonable; go ahead, I like the electronic door lock.’

The lock I suggested was a double control electronic lock on his door, he and Helen were the sole operators, they would also be a small camera installed to monitor those waiting in the outside office that way he could assess the behaviour of the people before letting them in to his inner sanctum.

The days were boring running errands and checking for bad guys also driving here and there. The only relief I had was when I was called before a sitting of legal Johnnies to hear my story, there were exchanged glances when I had finished my small report.

‘I s that it, he didn’t say or do anything to make you suspicions.’

‘He was pissed off with me getting into the house, I had searched, but had found nothing suspicious, there were the cases, but there was nothing of any interest in either of them, unless you get a kick out of going through women’s underwear.’

‘Yes, mm, right, well thank you,’ he looked up my name on a piece of paper; I didn’t volunteer it, ‘Mister Kapps.’

At last something changed, after nearly four days Grahame contacted me, he came straight to the point.

’Her name is Betty Smith, once a good journo, the same old trouble, too much drink and pot, now dig’s the dirt on any one she can, divorced, no current man, however on the four days ofsurveillance she met twice with’ I interrupted him.

‘How the hell did you know that?’

‘Educated guess, he may tell her more.’

‘What do you want me to do about it?’

‘Get a control Order, if what has happened leaks out there will be hell to pay, not only because of the past situation but it shows up our lack of security.’

What should we do about him?’

‘He is weak, although he doesn’t come across that way he is open to blackmail and the likes, I would suggest you get the Special branch to pull her in and explain the seriousness of the Control order and if you don’t mind I’ll have a chat with you know who.’

We spoke further him telling me what he wanted, I agreed.

‘You will have to get a Control Order from the Governor General,’ I said.

‘Yes I know, that’s going to be a bugger, when I get it I will pass it on – and Charlie.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve changed my mind about you, if you want the job it’s yours.’

‘Thanks, I’ll think about it,’ we talked for another five minutes then rang off.

It was Thursday and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I drove around and found a Thai restaurant. I took a table in a corner where I could watch the door – old habits made me take in the room, there was the usual red decor, pictures of Budda, fancy tasselled red light shades hanging from the ceiling.

I ordered a beer then dinner, it was reasonably busy for a weekday and I looked with envy at the couples and families enjoying each other’s company, imagining Morgan sitting opposite her beautiful smile her big eyes twinkling with excitement leaning over to whisper to me showing a firm white cleavage.

A small dish of fish cutlets with a brown sauce was put in front of me, letting out a sigh and coming back to earth I ate, I had just finished when the door was thrown open and a man in his twenties can in, he wasn’t a happy chappie, his eyes searched the room fallen on the table next to me where a young couple sat, the girl saw the man and pushed her chair back.

‘Oh no,’ she gasped fear spread across her face; the man looked around for a way out, there was none.

The man, when seeing them, turned angry.

The couple were standing trying to put the table between them and the angry man, the aroma of his sweat as he stood at the table wafted over to me; he seemed oblivious of everybody else in the restaurant. His jeans had seen better days as had his grubby tee shirt, his hair was thin on top and his angry sharp featured face was unshaven. I could see the start of a belly in his slim frame.

‘Andy go away we spilt up months ago, please.’

‘I fucking say when we fucking split up,’ he shouted.

’She doesn’t want to be with you the boyfriend said nervously.

The room had gone quiet the children moved to their parents, members of staff tried to placate the man, I made a signal to them to call the police, the slim young thing in her long Thai tight fitting dress was only too pleased to call them.

’Hey, we are trying to eat, you heard what the lady said, ’I said rising, I was at least three inches taller than him. He stopped chasing the boyfriend around the table and looked at me.

‘And watch your language there’s children here,’ I added.

He pushed through a chair and a table to get at me.

‘Who the fuck are you to tell me what I can do and what I can’t,’ he said pointing his finger at me.

Moving into a space I stood ready for him, just make him a bit angrier I thought.

‘I can see why she dumped you, when did you last shower,’ I grinned at him, ‘just look at yourself why would any girl want to be with you,’ I lowered my voice so the kids couldn’t hear, ‘you even smell like an arsehole.’

That did it, he lost it.

He came at me raising his right hand at the last minute, I swayed back planting my right foot behind me, his failed punch brushed my chin, I grabbed his wrist with my right hand and with my left on his elbow twisted slamming his face into the table, stepping in I kicked his legs from under him. He landed on his face and tried to get up but my right hand was on his thumb finding a nerve. With his arm-twisted and the nerve on his hand being squeezed he screamed, my left knee was now on another nerve at the back of his ribs, he was virtually paralysed.

The Thai young thing said the police were on their way, the rest of staff began to clear up the mess.

Driving back to the hotel my thoughts were; is that all I’m good for, stopping fights killing bad men trying to make a level playing field; that is just not going to happen there will always be evil and as long as there is good someone will try to keep it equal that’s all we can do. I fell asleep with those thoughts.

I went to Barrett’s office the next day even though I knew he was attending the Durham hearing. Before going I made a call to Special Branch.

Entering the office Helen pointed to the door on her right.

‘I put him in there,’ she whispered, I gave her a smile and nodded.

Entering the room I took of my jacket and taking out an envelope sat behind the empty desk, Philips was pacing up and down.

‘Care for a seat Mr Philips, or do you plan to wear a path in the carpet?’

‘What are you doing here and where’s James, Mr Barrett? I demand to see him – now.’

‘Really - demand eh, what makes you think he wants to see you after what you have been up to. I think he wants to put a great deal of space between the pair of you.’

He looked the very part of a successful civil servant, clean cut well dressed and bombastic.

‘Where is he?’ He said putting two hands on the desk in an attempt to intimidate me.

From the envelope I took out the picture of the journo Smith and Philips and slid it across the dark stained desk top.

‘I have more and we have her notes which her editor reluctantly provided.’

Now he sat, his face had paled somewhat.

‘You did this because your lover Barrett had hooked up with a rent boy at a gay club, sort of a lover’s revenge. Still where you are going there will be plenty of willing participants to indulge your every whim, if you so desire or even if you don’t desire.’

Pulling out the Control order I pushed it across the desk. The door opened and in came two SB officers.

‘These gentlemen will read you your rights and explain this to you.’ I tapped the warrant before him. He began to protest saying he hadn’t done anything and it was all a lie, I must say I have heard it all before.

My job was finished in the Capital State, or so I thought. Eating steak and salad and drinking a cold beer I felt my phone vibrate. The text said ’Station 4, platform 8 which meant back to the hearing room 4 at 8 o’clock. I had another beer and went back to the hotel.

Chapter Thirty Six

I was kept waiting for an hour only to be told I wasn’t needed, the large marble hall was busy with men in gowns carrying bundles of papers, women in dark suits with attaché’ cases who

Stopped to talk with other women before waving to each other and moving on. There was a small café’ down in the basement, all this waiting about gave me the urge for a caffeine hit.

The place was busy with late comers snatching a quick breakfast or a wake up coffee. Finding a newspaper I found myself a corner table and sugared my coffee. There was the usual political guff, a lot of name calling between the parties but no one actually doing anything.

‘Is this seat taken?’ A posh pommy voice said. I lowered the paper.

She wearing a dark tight skirt and a sleeveless white frilly blouse, over her left arm was a dark jacket and in the other hand a coffee, she sat without being invited,

‘In the Aussie vernacular, you scrub up well,’ Finlay Duncan said giving a big grin with that beautiful mouth of hers.

‘You don’t look so bad you’re self.’

We sat there grinning like a couple of juveniles.

‘How’s the arm?’ I asked.

‘Not bad,’ she became serious, ‘Charlie I don’t know how you took three and the way I went on when we first met…’

‘Finlay you have already said sorry – but I don’t mind if you say it again.’

‘Let’s go for a walk we have things to talk about.’

I drove us to the Botanical Gardens where we brought an ice cream and strolled along the winding paths, Finlay holding my arm. We sat under a large Poinciana tree it was cool there and quiet.

‘Well what do you have to talk to me about MI5 lady?’

She was sitting close, which was unusual, there had always been that gap giving the message don’t get to close, but now the gap seemed to have shrunk.

‘Well that’s the first thing I’d like to talk about.’

Once again I had this feeling of what was to come but kept my silence.

‘I’m not an MI5 officer.’

Two months ago I would have been somewhat annoyed but I’m getting used to the way things work - don’t be surprised at anything.

‘MI6?’ I asked, having known it was odd that a 5 officer would be on the international stage it’s the role of 6.

‘I’m sorry for lying but you know how it is with movement departments.’

’So what else haven’t you told me, because all that stuff in Darwin. ’I left it unsaid.

‘I don’t know it all Charlie I can tell you that the incident with the Polish mafia was genuine, only it didn’t happen to me.’

‘Then who and what about the three girls, those who were left in the house at the Thames estuary?’

‘That was all true, the agent who was involved was threatened and her family came under fire. So we planned it so she left the UK, we leaked the fact that she was going abroad, we couldn’t tell them too much they had to find where for themselves. ’

‘The way you told it sounded very much like you were there,’

‘Yes I’m sorry.’

‘So they sent someone over after you.’

‘I was coming anyway, at first one came over, this was all sanctioned by the Aussies by the way.’

‘They thought one would be enough?’

‘Yes, he came creeping around at night, how he found out where I was; I don’t know.’
Someone was telling, maybe it was Durham’

She gave me an odd look.

‘Yes maybe, but I doubt he would have accesses to that information.’ I said.

‘I had set the usual traps for him; one was an electronic beam, break it and it rings like a phone. Poor chap didn’t stand a chance; I shot him in the hall.’

‘Whereabouts on the body is that?’

She laughed and squeezed my arm, ‘oh shut up.’

‘Nothing was said about desert storm,’ I said.

She looked perplexed.

’Shoot out at the okay coral, you know bang, bang, in the outback.

‘You are a complete idiot, you know that?’

’Yes, my doctor told me.’

The ringing of my C3 phone interrupted us. I listened, then snapped it closed and said.

‘We have to go.’

‘Who was that and where to?’

‘Grahame, he’s in town and wants to see us.’

Stopping at the hire car I went through my bag.

‘What are you looking for?’ Finlay asked.

Holding up a gadget not much bigger than an iPod I checked the batteries.

‘Whets that?’ She asked.

’Nosy little MI6 lady aren’t we, it’s my fuzzer, ’she laughed, ‘what on earth is a fuzzer?’

‘It prohibits any tape or bugging device from recording within an area of about five metres of this.’ I held up my fuzzer. ‘All you get is a fuzzy buzzing noise.’

We drove into town to a street of the fifties style buildings.

‘So you think we are going to be taped.’

‘You bet, everything we have said at these hearings have been, can’t see this will be any different.’ Did you tell me why you just popped up out of nowhere?’

‘No I didn’t, I am having a dialogue with ASIS,’ she said with mock seriousness.

Walking up six wide stone steps Finlay said.

‘I think there is something you don’t want them to know.’

In the large marbled reception area I said.

‘That’s why you are a MI6 operative you know these things been trained to the highest standard of British spy hood – hey your names not Jane Bond is it?’

She gave me one of those rare lovely smiles of hers.

‘May I help you?’ said an old chap dressed in a dark blue uniform with gold epaulets standing behind a large richly carved wooden reception counter. He gave Finlay the once over; this wasn’t a place women frequented.

‘We have an appointment with Mr Grahame.’

He scanned a list before him – no computer for him. Reluctantly he said, ‘yes,’ and rang a small hidden bell. A man came out of the door behind him he murmured something to him. The other man minus a jacket but still in some sort of uniform said to follow him.

Finlay whispered.

‘This is a boy’s club isn’t it?’

Her high heels clicked on marble as we passed a dark wide staircase and into a large room, I say large maybe huge would be the better word. Going down two steps we turned right and made our way through comfortable leather sofas and marble topped coffee tables. Men in suits sat drinking tea or coffee and the occasional gin and tonic or a good malt whiskey, most were elderly and overweight. Some looked up at Finlay with approval others raised an eyebrow.

Grahame was seated in a quiet corner and rose to meet us.

As I sat I discreetly turned on my fuzzer.

‘Coffee, tea?’ He asked.

Just for the hell of it and because I was thirsty I asked for a beer, he looked at Finlay who said yes please a beer will do fine. Grahame curled a finger in the air, a waiter came over and he ordered, while Finlay and I both sat back and waited.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said as if we had a choice, ‘hope I didn’t interrupt anything?’

Finlay Duncan smiled sweetly and said no. Grahame nodded and seemed satisfied.

‘I have some bad news I’m afraid.’

He looked tired there were dark shadows under his eyes, his face was drawn and pale.

‘As from today Peter Montrose will no longer be Director of C3.’

We said nothing, as two tall frosted glasses of beer were place on the table.

‘Oh really,’ Finlay said genuinely shocked. ‘Does that mean you will be taking over – not that it is any of my business,’ she smiled with a lack of humour.

‘I don’t know yet, there are more changes to be made to the covert group.’ Grahame said.

I was wondering why we were being told of the changes, it soon became clear when I said.

‘Well he won’t have to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder.’ It was a prompt to tell me what was really going on.

‘He wasn’t going to prison Charlie.’ Grahame said.

My beer was half way to my mouth, I put it down.

‘Has there been some sort of resolution?’ Out of the corner of my eye I saw Finlay look guiltily down at her drink.

‘He was never a suspect in anything Charlie.’ Grahame said.

‘Am I missing something here?’

‘He was working for us against Durham.’

That I thought doesn’t answer a lot of the questions I have been wanting to ask, the drama in Darwin for a start and the outback debacle, Grahame cut off my thoughts.

‘Charlie I have one or two more questions I would like to ask you.’

I thought he had, why else were we here.

‘It’s about the money.’

What else and I knew his next question, which could be dicey.

‘Where were you at the time the money was taken?’

‘What money, nobody mentioned anything about money and what time was that?’ I asked.

‘Let’s say from twelve o’clock to about three o’clock.’

‘Why are you asking?’

‘You know us Charlie got to cover all the bases.’

I was picking up the money Grahame, that’s what he wanted to hear. I was about to try and bullshit him when Finlay spoke up.

‘Oh tell him Charlie, I don’t care if he knows, we are adults after all.’ She looked at Grahame.

‘He was with me – somewhere.’

Grahame’s face had look of defeat, never the less he carried on.

‘Okay Miss Duncan where was that?’

‘You know I cannot tell you that Mr Grahame, it was at an MI6 safe house.’

I held up my hand, ‘you know I left empty handed about ten o’clock, Durham was still there, are you telling me you took him away and searched the house?’

It didn’t really matter what we told him it wasn’t being recorded.

’Why was Peter spying on Durham, was he up to something other than selling information?’I prompted.

‘He is a spy, has been for some time we just couldn’t prove it.’ Grahame said.

‘Who for, the north Korean’s, China; you don’t have anything on him do you?’ I said tasting my beer.

‘How did you know that?’

‘I’ve been in his house remember and while I was there I went through every likely places of concealment, I found no stack of Won, the Korean currency, not much to prove any involvement in anything.’

‘We have yet to find out why he is not saying very much.’ Grahame urged, also you may not have had time to do a thorough search.’

“Perhaps he doesn’t have anything to say.’ Finlay Duncan said.

‘He came up on our radar whilst he was in Singapore; we were watching a member of the North Korean ship building committee supposedly tying up a deal with the Singapore ship building people, he was on holiday with his family.’ Grahame said.

‘We found him having dinner nestled away in the back room of a back street diner, we naturally informed ASIO.’ Grahame said.

‘I have some questions.’ I said.

‘If we can answer them we will, you understand there are some…’

I waved a dismissive hand.

‘Yes I know all that. It was about this Darwin fiasco and who was the man who tried to kill Finlay in Broome?’

’The man in Broome was a member of the Polish Mafia; we think he was tipped off by the same man who tipped of the Triads. You see Charlie, Durham had got himself in too far, word had got out that he was bent and certain people put the squeeze on him for ‘favours’, he had no choice in the end blackmail was coming from all directions, hence the packed bags - he was ready to go.’

‘Darwin?’ I asked.

‘No nothing about that, I was on the outer then wasn’t I.’

Finlay and I drank more beer; it was cool and went down well.

‘So what about the suitcase, the one I sent back to Darwin?’

‘What suitcase?’

It suddenly accrued to me that I was the only C4 man who knew about what was going on, now they have shut down that department, I may be the only loose end. Was that why they offered me the job of deputy director to closely monitor me? Time to find out.

‘You know that six page report I gave you.’

Grahame grunted.

‘Forgot to tell you, I did make copies, all six well distributed.’

The look on Grahame’s face spoke volumes, he wasn’t happy.

’Who really sent those men to kill me at theold hospital, it wasn’t Durham was it, he had really no need because I didn’t know it was him- until I saw the baggage, by the way how much was in that case someone took.’

Grahame’s face looked even more stressed.

‘We don’t know.’

‘But you knew there was money in the house, because you asked me about it, how many others knew? Maybe it was one of them who stole it, maybe you arranged it. You knew the timing of the operation, who would be where and when.’

He was seething inside, the tables had been turned on him, he had lost some control and he wasn’t likening it.

Controlling his anger he spoke quietly.

‘I don’t like what you are suggesting Kapps.’

Kapps - not Charlie.

‘Is it any different than what you were suggesting about me Grahame,’ there was a brief period of silence while Finlay and I sipped our beer and Grahame thought, gave him a nudge.

‘You didn’t answer the question of my planned demise Mr Grahame, who sent them and who was the woman who was sent to clear up the loose ends?’

What‘s this all about Charlie, old hospital and dead women, I was threatened, shot at, the money thing is so far a rumour but we have to check everything/’

Not taking my eyes of Grahame I said.

‘Somebody wanted me dead, out of the way, shut up because of what I know.’

‘You are being paranoid Kapps; if I had wanted you dead I would have killed you in Durham’s house.’

‘Not with those listening in or in front of Durham that meant you would have to kill two agents, hard to explain that.’

‘Now you are being paranoid, who ordered you to Darwin, I didn’t. Look I came here to tell you about Montrose…’

‘And ask about the money – you didn’t say how much.’

‘We didn’t know, not sure if there is any,’ Grahame said ‘what’s this about a suitcase and Darwin?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said, ‘was there anything else you what to ask?’

No, report back to Sydney on Monday.’

Once outside Finlay let out a big sigh.

‘What was that all about, the money and the set up to kill you,’ she asked.

‘Fancy another beer?’

‘Yes, we could take some back to a safe house I know, but I would have to swear you to secrecy.’

‘‘I have a couple of days to kill, and he wants me back in Sydney on Monday, I’m going now,’ I saw what I thought to be a mixture of annoyance and disappointment.

‘You have to stay here I suppose?’ I asked Finlay.

‘Yes for another couple of days,’ she spoke quietly.

‘So will I see you in Sydney when you have finished play Mi6 Agent?’

‘Do you want to?’

Oops, I’ve heard question and the manner in which it was said before, not from Finlay but other young women who want to be told that you care and that they are wanted.

‘Let me think about it, I have to take back some library books and wash some socks, but I reckon I could fit you in, in Sydney at the time.’

The look she gave me can only be described as a humorous glare, I may have been wrong though.

Chapter Thirty Seven

I caught a late flight and Finlay actually kissed me goodbye; and hour and ten minutes later we were touching down.

I excused my way through the special exit side stepping the customs and went in search of a taxi to take me to Len Booths.

Five metres before going through the large glass doors to the cool Sydney night, an attractive woman in her late thirties stepped in front of me. Wearing a simple white dress that did heaps for her figure and her well cut short fair hair framed her small square face, she looked up at me blinking nervously at me, she asked me…

‘Are you Charlie Kapps?’

I kept an eye on her hands and the small bag, which didn’t look big enough to house a pistol and smiling asked who was asking.

‘Sahara Montrose,’ she forced a smile her eyes never leaving mine.

I didn’t speak; travellers hurried by some meeting friends and family, most dragging a suitcase, all were looking some sort transport.

Shit, how did she know I was flying in and how many more knew, I scanned the busy exit looking for someone of interest, my attention was diverted.

‘Mister Kapps we need your help – Peter and I…’

I looked around for somewhere quiet. When standing behind a closed money exchange I asked her for some ID, she had it ready to take from her bag, she gave it to me.

‘Peter said you would say that, if you didn’t I was to go –can I see yours.’

We exchanged ID’s.

‘How can I help,’ I asked as we crossed into the carp park.

She ignored me and took out a parking ticket and starting for the machine.

I gently held her back, ‘before we go anywhere Sahara, I want to know what’s going on.’

“Mr Kapps, we have a lot of time can I tell you as we drive?’

‘No,’

‘Peter said to tell you he is still in charge and would like you to come to our house, he has things he wants to tell you –please.’

Her face showed a lot of emotion, her lip trembled and she fiddled with the ticket.’

Go on then,’ I relented.

Her shaking hand had difficulty putting in the card. I smiled at her’ I’ll do it,’ I said quietly, there was a crowd forming.

She was a bloody good actor, or her situation was bad, I was about to find out.

The car was a small Honda and after twenty minutes we were free of the airport traffic and heading North West.

‘Country place is it,’ I said.

She gave me a quick look of surprise, ‘yes.’

‘How is Mr Montrose, he didn’t look well the last time I saw him.’

Sahara cleared her throat, ‘not good.’

For the next thirty minutes it was quiet in the car, all the time she kept a constant watch on her rear view mirror.

‘Anyone following,’ I asked.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Pull over at the next lay by.’

Three minutes later we parked.

The heavy city traffic was behind us and the road we were on was only two lanes and this part of it was straight.

We watched, for a while but could see no one of interest.

‘Do you do this often,’ I asked.

‘What?’

‘Park up with strangers.’

‘Huh; can we go now.’

‘Not yet, how did you know I was on the plane.’

‘Peter still has a few friends in certain places and you’re the only one he trusts in the field – so he said.’

Forty five minutes later she said, ‘we are nearly there.’

‘Is it a farm?’ My interest was the defence, of the property, how big was it?’

’It’s a friend’s small farm, he uses it for the occasional holiday and it’s reasonably secure.

We turned off a dirt road onto another and half kilometre father on to the house, perhaps house or buildings would be more apt. I could see dark shapes of sheds and other small structures.

As we pulled up in the shadow of a large barn I heard Sahara moan, oh no.’

‘What,’ I asked.

‘My daughter is here,’ she said softly putting her head and hands on the steering wheel.

‘And that’s bad?’ It didn’t sound good not wanting her daughter here.

Sahara sat up as the front door of the house opened.

‘Can I call you Charlie?’

‘That’s my name.’

‘Charlie, I think this going to be a very dangerous place soon.’

She opened the door and got out; I did the same, as a pretty two year old ran across to her.

‘Sahara I think you had better explain and if it’s going to be that bad send them away.’

Sahara had the little girl in her arms and the child was calling her nanna, all very cosy I thought, how long it will last.

Sahara turned to me as we walked to the farmhouse.

‘I’ll take you to Peter,’ she said nuzzling her grand-daughter.

At the door stood a pretty girl in her middle twenties, wearing short shorts and a pale blue cotton top, she was bare footed. There was the usual kissing and hugging and Sahara was saying to the little girl, ‘have you seen granddad yet, let’s go and see him.’

The house was bigger than it looked from outside, the furniture looked comfortable and there were no craters, pictures hung here and there , there was a large fireplace and the kitchen was well equipped with a big gas fired stove and other appliances. I was busy checking doors, exits and entries.

We went down a large passageway and into the second room on the right.

I nodded to Montrose as the females twitted and fussed at the lump on the bed - granddad.

Sahara ushered them out and closed the door, I stood looking at the sheet covered sorry sight on the bed. He wiped his jowls then his brow. It was obvious the wife slept elsewhere there was no room on the bed for her.

He wiped away sweat from under his many folds of what could be called his chins. He was massive.

‘Thanks for coming Charlie,’ his voice constricted I thought by the fat around his throat, lifting a massive sagging fleshy arm he pointed to a chest of drawers, ‘photo,’ he said.

I went over to a collection of framed photographs; touching one in turn he nodded when I reached the right one.

The door opened and Sahara came in, ‘would you like a coffee?’ she asked. Then seeing what I was holding came across and took it from me.

‘That’s us,’ she said softly, ‘a few years ago before…’ she left it unsaid.

Thrusting it back to me she turned and left.

I looked at the couple in the photo, both were grinning and had their arms around each other, Sahara’s hair was long and his was brown and curly. Peter was a slim well-built man and looked full of life, what had happened to Peter Montrose?

‘You may well ask,’ he said reading my mind, ‘I was with ASIS doing the usual stuff,’ he wiped his face, ‘had to do something in North West Africa,’ he paused gathering his breath.

‘I was sent for the usual inoculations, had about four – got home and felt lousy, not unusual it affects some men like that, it got worse, by the morning Sahara found me semi-conscious on the floor.’

I waited, wondering when he would come to the point of my being here.

‘The bloody doctor was bloody stoned, gave me a mixture of what I don’t really know, it was all covered up – then I began to put on weight.’ He didn’t say any more he didn’t have to.

‘How long Peter?’ I asked.

‘Two months maybe.’

‘So how can I help?’

‘You may question what and why for, why if I am going to die in a few months, just let things happen.’

I picked up a chair and moved closer to him. He was propped up on several pillows, even though it was cool in the room he was sweating.

I poured him a glass of water from the jug on the bedside cabinet.

Thanks; I didn’t know who I could trust Charlie, there has been so much change, budget cuts the usual stuff, which leaves several chiefs and a few Indians out of work.’

‘Peter get to the point, there maybe things I have to do.’

’Yeah sorry; wellthere’s few people, as I’m sure you know, who are having dealings with overseas cartels -and I know about it, to make it simple, they know that I know and they are coming to shut me up and that includes my family – why the family? They don’t know what I have told them. I could let them kill me, what’s a few weeks; it would be a welcome relief to all.’

‘Tell me,’ I said, and he did, I suspected much of what he told me, other stuff – well was a bit of a surprise.

“What are we going to do, can you get any more help,’ I asked.

‘Charlie our department was small, it was formed like that for security reasons – one hand - group doesn’t know what the other is doing, absolutely stupid, that’s why we are in this situation, that’s partly why I’m expendable; I’ve written a report, it covers the weakness and the strengths, which are very few, of the present system.’

‘Someone found out and told certain people and was rewarded for their…’

‘Treachery sounds good,’ wheezed Montrose, ‘but it works both ways, I was informed that I had become a liability.’

‘What arms do you have Peter?’

The door burst open, it was Sahara and she was white and shaking, agitated, ‘the alarm, it’s gone off.’

‘Someone’s just come through the entrance to the driveway,’ Montrose said.

It was just there, I felt the rush, but it had become the norm.

‘Hide the kids and anyone who is vulnerable,’ I snapped at Sahara, then to Montrose, ‘you have an armoury?’

“There only the little girl and Sam, but he is a man.’ I ignored her it wasn’t important at this moment, we have to prepare.

A young man in his late teens appeared in the door way, ‘dad is it happening?’

‘Sam this is Charlie do as he says, okay and take him to the armoury, Charlie bottom draw,’ he pointed across the room to the chest of drawers.

I took out a small machine gun and several magazines, ‘don’t shoot yourself,’ I hurried out turning of the light as I went. Montrose could see who comes in, they would be back lit, if they got that far and he could deliver them a blast.

Over here Charlie,’ Sam called.

‘A minute,’ I called back.

‘Sahara,’ I called to her as she was locking the back door, ‘do you have a small windowless room?’

She hesitated, her mind racing, ‘yes.’

It was a small spare bedroom.

’Listen, grab any single mattresses, or if you can manage them doubles, get yourselves inside put a chair under the door handle and put anything else in front, including the mattresses against the door and get on the floor – and keep the kid quiet, stay there until I tell you to come out.

‘We have seconds Sam, lock all doors and windows.’

‘Done; you want this?’

He handed me an AK47, the Russian rifle a friend too many a soldier and terrorist, with it were two full mags, I nodded my thanks

‘Turn out all the lights, keep furniture clear of anywhere you might have to run from back door to front door.’

‘I’ve got a shot gun with lots of ammo,’ he said with a little tremor in his voice.’

All the while I was talking I was going through my bag.

‘You got a dark coat?’

‘On the hall stand.’

‘Give me a code word,’ I was ready.

He looked puzzled.

‘Sam I don’t want you shooting me when I come in.’

He made a big Oh with his mouth and looked down at his gun, ‘Shotgun - wedding.’

‘Okay, lock up after me,’ cocking the gun I slipped out the back door, I heard the bolts go home at saw the lights go off.

The coat was short but fitted; the owner of the farm must be a big man.

I put on my night glasses and turned them on, hoping they didn’t have any, it should be fun if they did. Thankful that it wasn’t used as a farm anymore and the area had been cleared of farm implements and other odds and sods I moved on.

Something glowed in the dark, it hoped and stopped –Mr Bunny, watch him, if he suddenly runs scared, I’ve got company.

They should be here by now I thought, Mr Bunny turned and fled.

The last thing I wanted to do was to shoot one of the intruders, this would give away my position and allow the rest of them to close in on me and I was in strange territory and it was dark, I needed knowledge of the area, I didn’t have it, I moved into shadow wondering what sort of training the men bent on killing Montrose had, I heard a noise.

Just a small clink of something metal; bending lower not wanting to be a silhouette against the sky, I ran my fingers across the ground and found a pebble. Nearing the end of the house, through my night glasses, I saw perhaps twenty metres away a smaller building, an outhouse, a barn of some sort? That’s where he was, between the two, looking to come around the back of the house, for a rear entry.

As silently as possible I moved a little closer, it was just luck that I reached the end of the house as he did, I tossed the pebble over him at the barn opposite; it hit something soft and bounced making just enough noise for him to turn.

He heard me, but not in time, the butt of the AK hit him on the temple, he staggered, I hit him again and this time he went down, I caught his short automatic rifle and carried it to the barn along with my AK, I went back and dragged the unconscious man into a dark space under the eaves of the barn; I tied him with plastic ties and gagged him with rape.

Hiding his weapon I was about to cross to the house when I heard a loud boom of a shotgun, it sounded like it came from the front of the house.

With the AK ready I crossed to the house. I was revved up I felt power and all my senses beef up, it was that surge of energy that caused me to turn.

The dark shape was almost upon me rifle raised, I parried his effort and spun on my left foot, hitting him on his left forearm, I got in close and pushed the magazine into his face, at the same time he tried to hit me with his rifle, I hooked my left arm over his right trapping the gun and belted him again in the face, he grunted and tried to knee my in the groin, he hit my thigh. I pushed, sending him backwards his hands and arms trying to get free to find balance and attack me.

At the corner of the house there was a tap with a raised drain, he tripped over it and we crashed to the ground, the man dropping his rifle in an attempt to break his fall, didn’t stand a chance, I was stronger, faster and my thinking way ahead of his. I was on top then dropping my gun I punched him in the throat he gasped and made a choking noise, flinging his arms and body about to be free of me and trying to draw in air, I punched his right jaw, it slowed him a little. Shit man was tough. With my gun lying beside me I sat up grabbed it and bought it down on his forehead; the butt hit his head and his head hit the ground, his arms slumped sideways. Turning him over I plastic tied his hands and feet and taped his mouth then dragged him out of sight

Shots were being fired from out front, I heard breaking glass and the thud of metal on stone. I ran to the front corner of the house, flashes of muzzle fire came from behind a parked car, I settled, took aim and squeezed off a short burst. There came a yell of pain, I turned back and ran around the back of the house.

It’s strange how fate intervenes, as I ran around the corner I tripped over the man I had just tied and gagged he must have rolled into my path in an effort to be noticed by his mates. As I tripped there came a bust of gunfire; I kept on rolling and as I did so, thumbed the lever to auto fire, aiming the AK47 I strafed the area where I thought the gun fire had come from, it lit the area in front briefly and I saw a man twitch as the rounds ran across his body, his dying burst went low, I ran empty, I changed mags and rolled once more in case the shooter had a backup man. It was suddenly quiet, save for the groaning of the tied man a few metres away.

Getting up I went a little closer to the back door hoping Sam was okay and hoping he didn’t have a nervous finger.

’Sam, Shotgun – wedding, ’I waited a few seconds and tried again, ’Sam, shotgun – wedding, I heard bolts slide back, I moved, ‘coming in Sam, hold your fire.’

I grabbed the dead man’s gun as I stepped over him and into the house.

Sam’s white terrified face shone like a white blob in the dark.

‘You okay mate,’ I asked bolting the door then moving away. He gripped the shotgun with white tight knuckles, he managed a nod.

Putting my hand on his shoulders I said, ’let’s go in the other room Sam.

It was a large and dark room, very little light penetrated from the night sky, furniture appeared as dark shapes, we were half way across the room when the filth man opened fire, I grabbed Sam’s collar and dragged him down as large rounds splintered the blackness, the noise was deafening, this was one serious machine gun, what was he expecting a Taliban encampment.

The large bullets splattered glassware, bookcases, sofa’s, coffee tables and went indiscriminately through walls.

We hunkered down as debris rained down on our backs, I could feel Sam shaking, it stopped and Sam tried to rise, I held him down as the shooting began again and I felt Sam’s whimpering, we tried to flatten ourselves into the floor, it wasn’t working. The shooting stopped again, ‘now,’ I whispered, the gunman was changing mags now, the first break in the shooting. The gunman waited hoping someone would take a chance, get up and make a run for it, not so.

As we left the room we could feel debris under our feet, it continued far into the house.

At the back door I said to Sam, ‘I’m going out to try and kill the bastard Sam.’

He gripped my arm tight his eyes wide with fear.

‘Charlie is that a good idea,’ fearful that if I am killed there will be no one left to save the family.

I did my best impression of Arnold what’s his name, ‘I’ll be back,’ I didn’t register with the frightened shit scared lad.

‘Bolt the door after me,’ I said going once more into the night. This time I turned right. The back wall was long and it took what seemed a couple of minutes to get to the corner, in fact it was less than half a minute, rounding the corner I had walked perhaps three metres when a voice from the darkness said.

‘That’s far enough old son drop the gun and put your hands on your head –DO IT NOW.’

I could take a chance and shoot of a burst, but if he wanted me dead surely he would have killed me straight away, I figured the longer I stay alive the more chance I have of living longer, if you see what I mean. I let the AK47 slip from my hand and watched the figure of a man with a big gun come into view.

‘You have to be Special Services, you took out four of my mates, what’s your name?’

From what I could see, I judged him to be less than six foot and of a slim build and he, like his mates all wore dark clothes. He was too far away to grab even with my speed and power, I had that feeling I’ve always had – one day –kaput, the end.

‘Don’t want to tell me huh,’ he said not moving any closer.

‘You’re going to kill me anyway, so go fuck yourself.’

‘You saw what happened to the house, I shredded it, imaging what this is going to do to you, mincemeat,’ he raised the big gun, I imagined his finger tightening on the trigger, there came a burst of gun fire and the man jerked sideways and fell to the ground, for a few seconds I wasn’t sure what had happened, sweat rolled down my face, my gut felt strangulated,.

‘You all right Charlie?’ the voice said out of nowhere, I must be dead I’m hearing voices; then I remember, heard glass breaking.

‘I’m here at the window,’ he said, it was then I recognised who was speaking, I walked to the window then, just in front of the dead man, I looked up.

‘Should you be out of bed Peter,’ I said trying to be blasé; he filled the frame of the window.

‘Lucky for you I was,’ then he disappeared into the dark room.

‘How many Charlie?’ the voice was getting further away.

‘Five, I think I have to check.’

‘The score,’ his voice was faint.’

‘Thee dead, two tied up,’ I hope.

Hearing the bed creak, I put out a hand to steady myself, then cautiously went around to the front of the house.

It took me ten minutes to work my way down to their vehicle, it was a dark saloon and was parked on the dirt road, it could seat five so unless there was another car, we have them all. I went back to the house tired and spent.

On the way back I stopped at the parked cars, exercising caution I drew my pistol and looked for the man I had shot.

He sat slumped against the car, blood trickling down his chin, I turned on my LED light, his black shirt showed a dark patch on his left side. Picking up his wrist I felt for a pulse at the same time I looked into his unblinking eyes, I felt the faint beat of his heart cease. I stood and went to check the other two.

The one near the barn was struggling to free himself, the nylon however was tight, leaving him I went to the other man at the corner of the house; he wasn’t moving. Rolling him on his back I saw a blood soaked shirt, this puzzled me for a second; I remembered that as I shot the other man he gave off a final dying burst, shit he killed his own mate.

Going back to the only one alive I cut his leg ties and stood him up, then pushed him towards the front door.

‘Look mate I can make it worthwhile for you if you let me go, I’ve got a family.’

‘Worthwhile eh, so you can go and kill other people, does your family know what you do?’ I gave him a push, ‘no I thought not, if you have really one of course.’

’I shouted the code word and Sam let me in.

‘Shit, who’s he,’ he said raising his shot gun.

‘One of our uninvited guests, you can tell the women they can come out now.’ I pushed the man towards Montrose’s room; the lights came on in the house.

Pushing the Glock into his back he stepped into the room, I turned him to face the bed.

The man fidgeted and hung his head; Peter Montrose muttered something under his breath.

‘You came here to kill me Vince?’ Peter said.

‘It’s a job Mr Montrose; just a job, it’s nothing personal, it’s those budget cuts, what do we do it’s what we are trained to do. ’

‘You came to kill my family Vince – my wife and son.’

‘Who hired you,’ I kicked him at the back of the knees, he collapsed, it was easier, less trouble, he couldn’t kick anyone that way, I patted him down but found nothing.

“What’s his full name Peter?’

’Montrose dabbed at the folds around his neck, he was clearly upset.

‘Vincent Fletcher, he’s been on the radar for some time,’ the mention of his name made him madder, from under the sheet he pulled out short automatic rifle and aimed it at Fletcher. It was difficult for him to turn restricted by the amount of flesh; he did get a fleshy finger into the trigger guard.

‘You bastard I looked after you,’ his face was red and quivering.

‘Pete,’ I said moving out of range, ‘I know you have nothing to lose, but having a heart attack caused by the lump of shit before you, means he wins,’ he saw the logic and lowered his weapon.

‘Take him outside and kill him, do it soon Covert 1 is on the way. Get all the cars on the drive way and face them towards the big paddock and turn on their head lights, a helicopter will arrive first.’

It had, the talking and the effort to move had left him spent he lay his head back and closed his eyes.

‘I’ll kill him Peter if he doesn’t tell me who hired him,’ I said playing the game.

Peter Montrose joined in, ’do it soon, ’he wheezed, ‘don’t have too much time.’

I turned to Fletcher, ‘you’ve got the ball old son,’ I moved around to face him, ‘what’s it to be?’

I was holding up my special iPhone, ‘her name’s Diana,’ while Peter was berating Vince I thumbed in the name, I came up with several Fletchers but only one Vincent who lived in the Sydney area, I played the card.

‘Nice name Diana Fletcher,’ I scrolled down, ‘oh look, you have a boy age two and a bit,’ Vincent had a sneer on his pale face, ‘want to say good bye to them?’

From behind me I heard a rasping chuckle, the door burst open and Sahara came in.

‘Peter are you…’ she stopped when she saw the kneeling figure, ‘who’s he?’

This is Vince, who very soon is going to make Diana a widow,’

Fletcher looked up at me with a look of hatred and distaste.

‘Is he one of the men who..,’ she couldn’t go on and say murder us.

‘Sahara, could you get me…’ Montrose pointed to the jug of water. She stopped pouring when she saw the shattered window.

‘Oh god did…’ Sahara looked around the room for damage; Montrose was saved the explanation by the arrival of her daughter and granddaughter.’

‘Dad are you okay,’ she got no further, Sahara hurried them away, I heard her saying was dad was okay.

There was a brief silence, then a faint ringing of a phone could be heard, I held the iPhone out to Fletcher.

‘You want to say goodbye?’

Montrose said in a hoarse voice, ‘can you make it look like he was killed in the shootout.’

‘Sure,’ someone was saying hello is that you Vince.

’I wiggled my phone hand, ‘you’re not Vincent Fletcher are you, you just stole the name some time ago, security checks found the real Vincent to be an understanding person, your twin, you are his brother Jack, we spoke about you earlier, said you were, rumbled months ago, you were left on a long leash hoping you would led us to someone else, someone bigger and higher up.’

I went to the door, ‘Sam,’ I shouted.

I told him about getting the cars in place to, light up the paddock, ‘mum will help,’ he said hurrying away then he came back, ‘thanks Charlie,’ he said and then he was gone.

I grabbed Jack Fletcher by the scruff of the neck and hauled him up.

I nodded to Peter Montrose, who read him his rights, they included treason, murder, giving false information to the government and various other charges.

‘Looks like you are in for a long time mate,’ I said as the first of two helicopters arrived.

The rest of the night was full on, corpses photo’d, wrapped and put aside for the removalist in their fake ambulance’s to take away. Men in white paper suits videoed the damage inside and outside and the usual interviews which seemed to go on for ever.

Vans and cars arrived and left and the long night seemed like a week.

Two men in suits and ties went behind closed doors with Montrose, they were inside for an hour then it was my turn.

Peter Montrose looked knackered, he had an ice pad on his forehead and a pedestal fan blowing on him, his eyes were closed but he heard everything that was said when the suits interviewed me. The last thing they said was, ‘we heard you have a plan, you and’, he nodded to the huge inert body on the bed.

‘Yes.’ I said, then the suits left, un-named, like ghosts in the night, never saw them arrive never saw them leave.

Fletcher was taken away and never seen again, dawn came and the farm was almost quiet,the clean-up and forensics teams anxious to be gone before the media tracks down the source of the disturbance, which was a mild way of putting it, the shootout, copters, traffic and dead body’s lying about.

The house was tidied to a certain degree and the family tried to get some rest, it would be a long time though before they could sleep peacefully at night.

Chapter Thirty Eight

About lunch time there was movement in the farmhouse, everyone walked around in a daze, was it all a nightmare they must be asking themselves, I made coffee and knocked on Peter=’s door, ‘wait a minute,’ came the reply, it was actually five when Sahara opened the door.

‘How is he,’ I asked.

‘Not good, it took a lot out of him, he’s just had a shower,’ she went to go to the kitchen stopped and whispered, ‘make it quick and go easy he needs his rest.’

‘I hear you’ve got a plan,’ he said his were eyes closed. I quickly went through it.

‘Think it will work?’ I asked.

‘It’s got a good chance, get me a phone and I’ll do the business.’

I left and hour later with Bella their daughter driving, she agreed to drop me of me off on the way home, at a certain location where Len Booth could pick me up, it was late in the afternoon when he did.

Len picked me up the Ford and we made idle chatter on the way back to his place. I had a shower and changed clothes then I lay on the bed and made plans, of course I fell asleep half way through them, totally spent, it was dark when I awoke.

Boothy was in the lounge with his girlfriend pouring over cruise brochures. ‘Coffee,’ he asked.

I was more than envious, them sitting around the table planning their trip, it seems my life just jumped from one dodgy situation to another and I still had no permanent address.

I have a post office box and a rented security storage lock-up, otherwise it was cheap motels, or sometimes hotels and when time allowed, I’d stay at my aunt and uncles place.

My shirt pocket suddenly vibrated into life.

‘Got a call,’ I said excusing myself.

‘Is that Charles Kapps?’ said a neutral accented voice.

Charles? Depends on who’s calling; it didn’t faze the caller, probably used to evasive upright buggers like me.

Mike Harlow, tech department just checking your number and availability. If certain departments choose us on, well, you know what; we will oblige and organise things for them.
I’ll give you a call and name the place and what they have installed. Of course you are aware that they can be bought by any one now a-days, go into a shop and tell them what you want and they will supply it. What I can do is supply you with a device that will tell you exactly what has been installed, you will have to book it out and return it when finished.’

I told him that was the best way to go and rang off before he started up again. The next step is to find and let the listeners where we will be, if they don’t already know.

The plan I had originally thought of was getting too complicated, not good, simple is much better and less likely to go wrong, the more weak parts you have the more likely one will break, so, back to the drawing board.

If the corrupt person, male or female wants the money he/she has ‘earned’ then they cannot afford anyone knowing, why, if he or she employs another to do the dirty work, that person will then know two things, there’s money of which he or she will want a cut and that the person is corrupt, which presents another problem; he or she would have to kill them, would they do it themselves or employ someone else – more problems.

Keep it simple though; keep it simple, I have to get back to the shed.

Returning to Len’s kitchen I found the two lovers still engrossed in planning their trip.

‘I‘m going out for a while,’ I said.

That caught Len’s attention.

‘Anything I can do?’ he was serious now.

‘No but stand by the phone,’ that made him feel wanted.

‘Okay, I’ll be here.’

I decided to go the way I had before, through the rear of neighbours garden, the BMW was quiet so I slowly rode around the cul-de-sac looking for signs of activity – lights, music and TV playing. The house I was mostly interested in and those either side were quiet and dark.

Four minutes later I was going through the adjoining garden gate, the shed was padlocked as before, I unlocked it and took the padlock with me into the shed. It has been known that thieves have entered a place such as this and left the padlock hanging on the clasp, the next they know someone has locked them in.

I scanned the interior with my small torch it looked much the same – almost. When leaving before I had put on the box that covered the hole beneath three nails, they were on the floor, so someone has been here and moved the box, I moved it with my gloved hands, the pavers beneath looked – different.

Theorise, I said to myself, had whoever knew about the suitcase shaped hole been here, were they looking to see if it was gone or to remove the suitcase, I was so engrossed with levering up a paver I never heard him come in, never heard him go either, that’s because I was out cold, on the floor – bleeding from the blow to the head, later my thinking was; I wish I had worn my crash helmet.

It could have been seconds or minutes, I don’t know how long I was out for, I do know that my head was about to split open, gingerly I sat up every move sending pain searing through my head, how these heroes in films and television get hit on the head and then go about their business as if nothing has happened, beats me. I looked down at the vacant hole in the ground, one paver had been lifted, so whoever did this saw it was empty and was a little upset, for I felt a little sore in my ribs where they had kicked me, oh dear, they shouldn’t have done that, I gradually rose to me feet and leaving the door open I stagged to the bike wondering on the way how was I going to put on my crash helmet. Astride the bike I cleaned the blood from my head and carefully put on my helmet. It wasn’t a complete waste of time when standing in the shed holding a handkerchief to skull I smelt a faint aroma of aftershave, funny how things register when one is trying to be brave.

Chapter Thirty Nine

Len Booth was playing nurse, bent over the sink there were oo’s and ah’s when Lens inspected the damage to my head, Charlotte, Len’s girl friend said ‘ he needs stiches,’ and went to fetch some pain killers. I lay in the darkness of my room, head throbbing only able to lie on one side, well I thought, things are moving along nicely. I fell asleep trying to place the wearer of the aftershave, I thought I had, but it didn’t make sense, I gave it some more thought then on the off chance that Finlay was still in Australia, dialled her number not giving a thought to what the time was, it was nearly twelve o’clock. It was ringing – she’s an MI6 lady she will understand.

Her posh pommy voice came sleepily over the airwaves.

I put it on as well, ‘hello, is that Finlay Pumpkin,’

There was a brief silence, then more awake asked, ‘who is this?’

Trying to sound like an old duffer I said.

‘I say old girl, been trying to get you all night- what.’

More silence then a sigh, ‘what do you want Charlie?’

‘Help.’

‘This time of night?’

‘What,’ I said in mock horror, ‘you put a time frame on help.’

‘With you I do.’

‘I have one word to say to you – outback, left dying in …’

‘Okay I get the message, what do you want.’

‘Help.’

‘Charlie stop bugger-arsing about.’

I moved my head, ouch, ‘where are you/’

‘Not far from Sydney airport, I flew in yesterday.’

‘On the job mate,’ I said.

‘Yeah mate.’

‘You going to tell?’

‘Some, an English Iranian born cleric flew in with some digital instructions for a North Korean spy; it seems they were planning to blow up a government building…’

‘Oops.’

‘Yes and you can work out the repercussions of that little episode.’

Chaos,’ I sad.

‘Yes – now what do you want?’

‘Where are you?’

‘At a MI6 safe house, why.’

‘Mm.’

‘What does that mean mmm,’ she asked cautiously.

‘Is this a safe line?’ I asked.

‘It is my end, why?’

I told her what I had planned, this was plan number two.

‘I can do that, what time.’

I told her and asked for the address, telling her it would be safe.

We spoke a little while longer refining the trap for the next day working out a time, then taking more pills I went to sleep.

Early next morning I rang the Montrose’s, Sahara answered.

‘How’s Peter?’ I asked.

‘Not good, he wants to speak to you,’ I heard her carry the phone to his room.

“Charlie.’

‘Peter,’ I waited for the question.

‘How are you, what’s going on?’

‘Coming along, got a bit of a head ache, think I’ve found something.’

‘And what is that.’

‘Jack Fletcher – remember him?’

‘Yes Charlie,’ there was a trace of impatience in his voice.

‘Well the usual thing, to get a lighter sentence he has done a little talking, just a little but enough…’

‘What’s he saying?’

One of our suspects has a girlfriend, a pole dancer would you believe. It seems our chap stored some stuff there one of which was a suitcase.’

‘You have the address of this girl,’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

I began to reel him in, he will want the address.

‘What do you plan to do Charlie?’

‘I had planned to go this morning to have a little chat, but I have to have another chat with the powers that be about what happened at the farm house, I reckon I might just catch her before she leaves for work tonight.’

He asked again what the address was; reluctantly I gave it to him.

Let me know how things work out.’ He rang off.

‘He’s hooked,’ I said to Finlay, now we wait.’

An hour and a half later there came a knock at the door.

Finlay looked at me, I nodded.

“Hello,’ said a familiar polite voice.’

‘Yes what do you want, you’re not selling any…’

‘Get in and shut up.’

‘You’re not going to stab me are you?’

She was telling me he had a knife.

Sticking to the plan she back away and turned into the room on her right he followed , Finlay once inside continued her backward retreat until she bumped into a sofa, I waited for the signal, oh dear’ that was it.

I came up behind him and grabbed his neck in a sleeper hold while Finlay punched him hard in the stomach.

’Who is he? ’Finlay asked, as we both watched the gasping body on the floor, ‘Let me introduce you…’ I kicked him in the ribs.

Finlay looked at me disapprovingly.

I gently tapped my head and ribs, ‘he did that.’

‘Oh,’ she nodded her approval.

’This, ’I continued, ‘is Sam Montrose, son of Peter.’

She nodded knowingly.

I rang his dad, we spoke for twenty minutes, then hung up.

Finlay was sitting on the arm of the sofa, keeping guard.

I picked up Sam with one hand and propping him against the wall said, ‘we could arrest you for breaking and entering, threatening behaviour, and assaulting an agent of the Grown.’

‘And lewd looks,’ Finlay said.

‘Lewd looks?’ I said.

‘Yes, he looked at me in a lewd manner, you know.’ She raised an eyebrow, pouted her lips and narrowed her eyes.’

I looked at Sam then at her, ‘he must desperate,’ I said, her look hardened somewhat, then we kicked him out.

‘Lunch?’ I asked.

‘Yes and over it you can tell me what’s going on.’

‘Some,’ I said.

We found a café and joined the lunch crowd, we ordered and waited for our coffee and meal.

‘So,’ she said.

‘We would be wasting our time if we charged young Sam, or Peter, he was trying to find the money so when he dies they are financially well off.’

‘Do you believe him,’ she asked.’

‘No, the money would be a bit of a bonus, he has retirement pension and some other thing because he was incapacitated on the job, he said he wanted to do something before he dies.’

‘When’s that likely to be?’

‘Next week the week after, he’s not looking good.’

‘He said something else,’ she held up her hand the coffee arrived, we sugared and stirred.

Bending closer across the table she said ‘so what was all that business at the farmhouse?’

I supped, put the cup down and lent closer, ‘now that is interesting,’ leaning back I supped again.

‘Well tell me,’ she snapped.

I resumed the position, ‘someone thought he had the money and new who the traitor was.’

‘Who?’

‘We don’t know, not for sure,’ we were now inches apart, someone coughed.

‘Cesar Salad with Teriyaki chicken,’ the pretty waitress asked, Finlay gave her a smile, it slid in front of her. The waitress turned to me with a bigger sexy smile, she purred,’ you must be the steak and French fries,’ coming close and gently putting it front of me, I could smell her perfume and as she turned away her small breast brushed my arm.

‘Thank you, I whispered.’

‘Thank you,’ she said in a whisper, dropping her chin on her shoulder, ‘you’re welcome.’ Moving her arse in a sexy manner, she flounced away.

Duncan gave a look of disbelief and uttered, ‘I don’t believe it.’

“We ate I smiled; she ate and scowled. I dismissed it; she was a woman and who understands women?

She prompted me to tell her more.

‘What else did he have to say?’

‘I told you about the hole in the floor,’ she nodded with a mouthful of lettuce and chicken.

‘Well here’s where it gets a little crazy; Durham told Grahame and Montrose at a meeting one night, that the house he had just moved used to belong to a gun-runner and he kept the guns in a hole in the ground inside the garden shed.’

Finlay drank the last of her coffee, I could see her mind ticking over, ‘so they all knew about the hole –so who took the money,’ she said with just a hint of a smile.

‘Ah,’ I wagged a finger at her, ’was there really any money?The only person who knows that is shitting bricks.’

Finlay lent forward jabbing her fork at me, ‘because he’s taken the money cannot find it and hasn’t done what he was paid to do.’

‘And he wants the money to flee the country…’

‘Or he’s a dead traitor.’

We continued to eat in silence for a while.

‘Where’s your place,’ Finlay said when we outside.

‘Haven’t got one, I’m a sort of a nomad, hotels, motels, safe houses, unsafe houses.’

‘What should we do then?’

“When do you fly out?’

She took my arm, Saturday morning, she said looking up at me, so it’s back to my place.’

‘Is it safe,’ not too safe I hope.

Yes, you know the way.’

In the car I asked when she was going back. ’Saturday morning, I already told you, so I have nearly two day left.

‘You might have told me, so have you any plans.’

She looked across at me and with the barest of smiles said, ‘yes.’

‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever find out who tried to kill you or who chopped up the boat hire man can will we,’’ Finlay said, pointing left.

‘We know but proving it, well that’s a different matter.’

‘So you didn’t go to Adelaide, you came straight here?’

‘Yes, when I contacted London and told them the situation they said get the next available plane back to Blighty, so of course I went shopping.’

’Really, ’I said.

We were going through suburbs not a place one would expect an MI6 safe house.

‘You will be going back at what time?’

‘I’ve already told you.’

‘Just checking.’

She had grown on me even though I was still grieving over Morgan and I admit, I found her extremely attractive and yes like any man whose hormones were still active I fancied her.

‘Will you miss me?’ she asked, I don’t think it was a jest.

‘Strangely enough yes,’ I sang, ‘I’ve grown accustomed to your face.’

’She laughed.

‘Will you miss me; I’m not looking for complements of course.’

‘Certainly not, whenever I’m in your company I either get shot or – or shot at.’

Once more we laughed together.

‘In that case I hope this house we are going to is really safe.’

Ten minutes later we had passed through suburbia and into the countryside we stopped at a long gravel driveway. Finlay got out and opened the Iron Gate. Two minutes later we were inside the cottage.

‘Finlay why have you taken me here, this is not the same safe house.’

‘I didn’t think you would notice I only gave you directions though; the truth is someone else is moving in.’

Spying the kitchen over to my left I carried the drink I had borrowed from the small bar to the fridge, it was comfortable and clean.

‘You want one?’ I said holding up a bottle nudging the fridge door shut with my butt.

I watched her tall slim figure walk down the hallway and turning to a room, putting down the beers on the kitchen table I took off my jacket grabbed the bottles and not knowing what else to do I followed her. It was a bedroom and she was sitting at a dressing table.

Finlay stood and taking the two drinks from my hands placed them on the dressing table, she then turned and put her arms around my neck, Christ in a biscuit that felt good, I would have been happy with just that, she then raised her face to mine and very gently kissed me.

‘There’s no hurry,’ she whispered.

Slowly I moved my hands around her waist, we continued to touch lips and brush noses, I moved to her neck nuzzling gently. Finlay moved her hands to around my waist I moved up under her blouse touching smooth firm flesh, my fingers merely touching her skin; I felt her twitch under my caress. Lowering my hands I pushed under her dark skirt. She dropped her hands and unzipped it, her pink panties were small and lacy; her skirt dropped to the floor, Finlay then started to undo my shirt and belt.

Her behind was firm but at the same time soft and smooth, my hands danced over it like a butterfly, I gently squeezed the beautiful cheeks, she pushed my hands away and caressing my shoulders and arms removed my shirt, while my arms were down I flipped off my socks and shoes and in doing so I saw long legs and small pink lace and a dark patch. Soon we were both standing in our underwear, my hands Slid around her back, I drew her close.

‘I like gentle,’ she whispered kissing me again.

It was her turn to touch my behind; I slowly, caressed her beautiful body, undid her bra freeing her small pert breasts, they stood firm; her nipples raised with desire. Picking her up I went to the bed, where I began to gently kiss her breasts and at the same time remove her panties, I did the same to mine tossing them over my shoulder, then her hands slid down passed my waist and softly touched my erection. My kissing went south over a smooth stomach until I was nuzzling her beautiful fair thatch.

Finlay lay eyes closed, her hand gently moving on my shaft. Going back to kissing her breasts I slowly ran my hand down her thigh and to the soft down between her legs I cupped it. Finlay’s legs rose higher and wider, she began to make little mewing noises and moving her head from side to side.

‘Oh shit, what are you doing down there?’ She gasped.

‘Finger dancing,’ I said running my tongue around her nipple.

‘Oh shit - could you do the quickstep.’

For the next day and a half we did much of the same, until Friday night, we decided to eat out at an Indian restaurant. She picked at her Mango chicken curry.

‘No good,’ I asked, spooning more rice on my Mongolian Lamb.

‘No it’s very good,’ she said, something was wrong.

‘What’s wrong Finlay?’ I asked quietly.

‘I don’t do that sort of thing,’ she said.

‘What sort of thing,’ I knew what she meant but she had to say it.

‘Casual sex.’

‘There was nothing casual about it on my side,’ I said meeting her eyes.

’She whispered to me a little angry, ‘I’m going back tomorrow, I won’t see you again.’

“Why not, I maybe out of work and don’t know it, there has been a lot of budget cuts.’

She softened somewhat, ‘and that means, what?’

‘I could come over and see you sometime, if you wanted me too.’

‘Really,’ she said smiling.

I was at my Uncle Sean’s and Aunt Tessa’s place at the bottom of Springbrook Mountains before flying out to Heathrow, Tessa had been out, she tossed a newspaper to me.

‘Page two, it might be on the TV later,’ she gave me a wink, always flirting with me.

I opened the paper, the article read. Man shot when answering the door.

Grahame Grahame was gunned down while answering his door late last night, witnesses say they saw an Asian man driving away in a black saloon car. The police say at this moment they have no suspects.

Durham you sly bastard, it’s almost as if he heard me telling Finlay, if you don’t complete the contract you give the money back or suffer the consequences, you will be killed then everyone will know who the corrupt agent is and if you don’t have the money? Mm maybe they should have split it when they had it.

So where did Durham get the money to hire an Asian?

The clever bastard.