Chapter 44 Licking Wounds
It was a cold Monday morning, the sun had not peeped over the horizon yet and Martin was still half asleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep until eleven the night before because of what might happen during the next three days. The war games were an essential part of an Agents refresher training thought up by some loony in the Foreign Office with nothing better to do. The argument being:
‘It will keep our Secret Service on their toes if this country should have a crisis to deal with.’
Most of the people in MI5 had plenty of work on their hands without playing war games just to appease someone making a name for themselves. One day this same person might be the Prime Minister. Martin shuddered at the thought. That was the trouble with having “Think Tanks” in offices.
Sifting through the volumes of paperwork did bring to light documentation of the illegal trafficking of the cigarettes, drugs and arms shipment that Goodall and Chan had been involved in, but had not been signed off with either of their names. It was just another factor that was not connected with any country directly.
* * *
Martin moved towards the entrance of the enclosed area. He found to his dismay that an army guard was already in situ. A makeshift building had been set up.
‘Good morning sir. You’re up early!’
The guard came to attention and saluted. Both he and Goodall had been made honourary Captains for the Exercise. Martin felt awkward as he returned the salute.
Having to sleep in a strange bed, only 2 foot 6 inches wide, that was as lumpy as a camel he once knew in a drafty prefabricated building, was not great. Admittedly he and Goodall each had separate rooms from their men, but because the fabric of the walls were paper thin, you could hear every cough, snort, fart and snore from a group of a hundred men. It was a wonder that Martin managed to get any sleep at all.
He said, he would like to get a breath of early morning air before breakfast.
The guard thought it was a good idea and stated there was a fresh but colder breeze whipping up.
‘Has there been anybody else about Sargeant?’
‘Only two hikers who enquired what was going on. I said that someone had dumped some toxic waste and the Army were here to clear it up and make it a safe area. They seemed to be okay about that and moved on.’
Although it was no secret that MI5 had exercises of different sorts every year, they didn’t want the public to flood to the area, clinging to the wire fences trying to find something to look at, and somebody might get it into their head to climb the fence, even though there was barbed wire fixed to the top. Some people are so foolhardy when it comes to something they can’t or won’t understand, even though warning signs had been placed around the perimeter informing those that were inquisitively minded not to trespass.
Anyway it would soon be evident what really was going on in the wooded area, because there would be someone shouting ‘you’re dead,’ and blanks and paint guns still made a noise.
Martin felt strange in his Army Officer’s uniform, it was the third time he had worn it and by rights he should have been used to its texture by now.
The sergeant came to attention and saluted as Martin said, ‘Must go and get some breakfast – goodbye sergeant.’ Martin returned the salute and walked briskly away.
He was wondering how he was going to fare when on nearing a wooded area just before the dining area he heard, ‘Pssst! Pssst!’
Martin approached the bush with caution. Was this his nemesis, was he going to be killed before even having breakfast? Not cricket!
He sighed with relief when faced with the two people he was glad to see.
‘How on earth did you get in?’ whispered Martin.
‘Under the wire – we dug a tunnel. We found a piece of ground that looked like it had already been dug over. We managed to cover our tracks and it looks like it has been undisturbed.’
Martin said, ‘You found the earth had been disturbed?’
‘Yes!’ said Martha, ‘Funny that.’
‘That means my killer is already here! So it looks like it’s going to be today.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it – I have my old faithful here, it’s rather special and it comes in tiny pieces that you wouldn’t associate with a rifle. It was after seeing James Fox in the film “The Day of the Jackal” that I got the idea of having something special made up and it has become rather useful, not, mind you, that I have killed anyone with it, but it does give a certain amount of confidence that should something crop up unexpectedly and before you ask, I do have a permit for the rifle as I belong to a Gun Club in America.’
‘I think you’ll have to break the rules and use your rifle today. Have you two had breakfast?’
This was the first time that Martin had included Charlie in the conversation and wondered why Martha had invited him along to the foray that was about to begin.
Martha said, ‘We have our breakfast here.’ She patted her large haversack. ‘We plan to have eggs and bacon with the usual trimmings!’ Charlie signified by rubbing his stomach. ‘See you later!’ he said.
Martin walked towards the hut for breakfast, he felt more like having eggs and bacon with all the trimmings as well, knowing that Martha, especially Martha was there watching his back.
Martin hadn’t realized that Martha had taught Charlie all the rudiments of war and he was conversant with knife throwing, unarmed combat and how to shoot, how to be alert and have eyes in the back of his head. He wasn’t up to Martha’s standard, but he was on a level that someone shouldn’t take for granted that he hadn’t a clue what he was doing, although he still acted the part that he didn’t know, which was in his favour.
* * *
Perhaps it was because it was the oldest trick in the world that Goodall found himself dangling by the feet up one of the tallest trees in the wood that Martha could find. He had been caught out by an unseen enemy at three o’clock in the afternoon and referees who stood at the base of the tree were wondering how they were going to release him. He had so many paint blobs on him, he looked more like a painted statue. He was swinging in the wind that had got up suddenly and he was feeling the cold.
He was told he was dead and really it was the end of the Cobalt Exercise as he being caught like this meant that his troops had been overrun. Goodall was hoping that his other plan had been successful, but having not heard any shots, he doubted whether his special sniper had done the job yet.
One of the referees said ‘We’ll have to hire a Cherry Picker to get him down,’ and they all went off.
One of the referee’s and an MP came running up to the others as they were on their way to make a phone call to get Goodall down. ‘Better come quick, looks like someone has had a fatal accident. They all walked to the spot where a man dressed in khaki laid in a twisted attitude; his neck had been broken. The referees inspecting the site came to the conclusion that the twisted roots that were above the ground could not have been seen by the man as some of the branches with leaves had bowed down and covered the root and he must have caught his foot in it as he was walking down. The only puzzle was the kind of rifle he had by his side; it was not the usual issue of the army.
The area was cordoned off and the police called in as well as the cherry picker to get Goodall down off of the tree.
Rather red-faced and seething within he congratulated Martin on his success and shook his hand to show no ill-feeling – although Martin suspected he would rather strangle him.
Goodall was to hear of an un-identified man, not a soldier but dressed as if he was part of Goodall’s team as he was wearing the red arm-band that all the men from Goodall’s team were wearing. Goodall denied knowing him and the only truth that came out of his mouth was the fact about the red arm-band. He didn’t know how he had obtained it.
There was to be a court of enquiry into the incident, but it was short-lived when a memo from the Home Office stated that they hadn’t the resources to investigate the death of an unknown. It was looked upon as death by misadventure. Martin wondered who had enough power to pull the strings to stop the investigation.
* * *
Martin met Martha and Charlie at the Inn where they first met and ordered their drinks and Martha began her story. ‘It was child’s play, really and Charlie here was the one who captured your friend Goodall by laying down a lasso of rope covered with leaves. He stood in it and Charlie cut the rope and shot up in the air. It wasn’t a tall tree, so we cut him down and placed a hood over his face and hunted round for something a bit taller. Charlie climbed the tree and slung the rope over one of the highest branches and we both pulled him up. Fortunately the hood fell off, otherwise it might have been difficult to explain.
We came across the other man who had you in his sights and we were just in time. He had his back to us as we crept forward and he was using a low branch to steady his rifle and it was easy for Charlie to push him in the back. He lurched forward and he caught his foot in something, a root that was protruding from the ground and broke his own neck. We really didn’t have to do anything.
Martin thanked Martha and Charlie for all that they had done and was hoping to give them some reward. Martha said it was okay because as Luigi Stefan had met his death, she and Charlie were to benefit from the will which had been read out and they had been featured very strongly in the will, although at the time it had only been done for effect, for they both knew that if Luigi had had his way, they would have been dead by now.
Martin told them some bad news, that Goodall had managed to kidnap Joanna and had shot two Secret Service men and tried to make it look like Roland James did the killing, but it backfired a little as one of the agents was not dead and managed to clear Roland’s name of the killing. The man would be arrested as soon as he left the hospital, if he ever did. Roland was in hospital being treated for gunshot wounds, and would shortly fly back to England to report to the local hospital for a check-up and hopefully be allowed to go home.
Martin reported that his department had gone back to normal, so it was work for him tomorrow as normal. Goodall’s had the rest of the week off, somehow hanging about upside down up a tree had put his neck out.
They all laughed but it was a somewhat hollow laughter as they thought of Joanna James as she was now, expecting Roland and her first child. Unfortunately it was an de-ja-vu situation for Roland.
Chapter 45 Hotel Threat
Roland left the hospital after further treatment on his shoulder, it needed some attention. He had lost a lot of blood and had a blood transfusion on Paradise Island. Although it was a very small Island the hospital was well equipped with an ongoing blood bank. It was a hospital that served all the surrounding islands, so it had to be up to date with everything.
It was eleven am when Roland arrived at London Airport and managed to get a taxi to the hotel and as he was collecting the keys from the Reception area, a clerk handed him a letter. He was in a pensive mood as he looked at the un-opened envelope, wondering what the content was and what demands were these perpetrators going to make, for he knew without opening it, it must be from Goodall’s mob. Was Goodall going to identify himself or try to be secretive, as though he was not involved?
Roland slid the card through the door mechanism the lock turned green he entered the apartment. Having bathed carefully because of his wound and having two goes with whisky and dry ginger, he felt decidedly better. He sat on the bed and thought about Jo, his wife, who was in the clutches of Goodall. He was going to open the envelope but fell asleep and when he awoke it was nine pm.
He ordered dinner to be sent to his room and by ten thirty pm he was ready to open the envelope and read the contents. Sipping his drink he braced himself for the impending bad news that might have befallen his darling Jo.
They might have thought him callous that he had not tore open the envelope before, but he had to gather his thoughts together, it was no good going half cocked into a situation. He was all mixed up on the flight back to England, he was tired and had been wounded. His strength had been sapped and he could have slept for a week, but as always the adrenalin had been pumping the blood through his veins and heart and his brain told him to stay alert for anything that might be lurking around the corner.
At last he was able to compose himself for the content. He opened the envelope. It was an up to date invoice from the hotel requiring payment for the rooms he had hired for that month. He flopped onto the bed as a feeling of anticlimax swept over him. Without undressing he fell into a deep sleep.
The following morning and still half laying on the side of the bed with his feet firmly on the floor he awoke. Every part of his body ached and he needed a very hot bath to stimulate his mind back to a functioning control to do the simplest thing like placing one foot in front of the other when walking. Although hotel rooms are generally warm during the day, sometimes if it is a chilly night it can reflect the room temperature inside any building and Roland had woken with cold limbs.
As soon as he was able he went down to the Hotel Reception and asked to speak to the manager. He had the envelope in his hands and thrust it towards the manager as he approached.
‘Is this your idea of a joke?’
The manager, looking rather perplexed, had no idea what was the matter and opened the envelope.
‘It is the hotel receipt sir for the month.’
‘But shouldn’t it have been printed with the name of the hotel?’
‘Yes, you’re right, who handed this to you?’
‘The clerk who was on duty yesterday when I signed in.’
Roland began to describe the man to the hotel manager. The manager shook his head and said, ‘We have no-one of that description working here.’
The manager apologized and kept the envelope and called the police.
The manager took a dim view of someone pretending to be member of his staff and needed to report this issue as it had upset one of his guests, and as it happened to Roland, it was vitally important as the manager and its staff knew of the bad thing that happened to Roland’s wife when they were abroad.
About an hour later the police called at the hotel and placed the envelope with the invoice into a plastic bag, hoping there were some fingerprints on them besides Roland’s, although there didn’t seem to be much chance and Roland couldn’t remember whether the person had worn gloves or not.
It was about three in the afternoon that Roland received a telephone call from the police to say that they had managed to find a thumb print right on the edge of the envelope and they knew who the person was and were on their way to his flat to make an arrest.
Roland telephoned Martin Church. It was safe to do so, because Graham Goodall wasn’t in the office until the following Monday due to a strained neck muscle. Being jerked up hadn’t done him any favours, and then hoisted again up a very tall tree in an upside position was an even more uncomfortable situation to be in.
Roland said, ‘The police laboratory have found a thumb print on the envelope and the police are on their way to arrest the man.’
Martin expressed with reluctance, ‘He’s either dead or has done a bunk out of the country and my guess, he’s dead.’