Dark Forces (38 page)

‘You said shame. Do you feel ashamed?’

‘A bit. Yes. With hindsight I would have preferred to have killed them face to face.’ He shrugged. ‘But I don’t give it much thought.’

‘Not consciously, no. But it’s clearly preying on your mind.’

‘Not preying, exactly. But when I was asked to take part in this drone operation …’ He leaned towards her. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I know the men we’re taking out deserve it. The latest were a couple of jihadists helping a sniper in Syria who would have killed a senior Syrian Army officer if we hadn’t intervened.’ He forced a smile. ‘Actually, we missed him, but took out the Brits. They were helping the sniper and I’ve no doubt that if they hadn’t been killed in Syria they’d have been back in the UK one day committing atrocities here. But there’s something very disturbing about what we’re doing. We sit in a container in the middle of England, press a button and two men die on the other side of the world. They probably didn’t even see it coming.’

‘And that’s disturbing why?’

‘Because it reduces combat to a video game. It makes it … I don’t know. Less real, maybe.’

‘You know it’s real. You know that people die as a result of your actions. Same as when you were a sniper.’

‘Sniping was different. Yes, I killed from a distance. But they could just as easily have killed me. Same as they killed Bam-bam and Scotty.’

She chuckled. ‘I think this might be your famous sense of fair play going into overdrive,’ she said. ‘You think drones are too one-sided.’

‘They are. No question. We’re using missiles costing a hundred thousand dollars against men with AK-47s. It doesn’t get more one-sided than that.’

‘Well, to be honest, the days of one-on-one combat have gone for ever,’ said Stockmann. ‘Trench warfare will never return, hopefully. Men won’t charge each other with guns blazing. These days, the enemy fights with IEDs, snipers, kidnappings and beheadings. And when they’re done, they merge back into the civilian population.’

‘It’s so bloody unfair,’ said Shepherd. ‘We fight our wars in uniform, following the Geneva Convention. They fight like cowards.’

‘Because that’s their best chance of winning,’ said Stockmann. ‘If they put on uniforms and fought by our rules they’d be defeated in weeks. They learned from the way the Viet Cong beat the Americans. You fight, drop your AK-47 and pick up a hoe. Fight like that long enough and you wear your enemy down.’

‘So what are you saying? We have to play them at their own game?’

‘I’ve no idea how to fight wars. I’m a psychologist, not a general.’ She took another drink. ‘War has never been an easy business, that’s for sure. But if we have to go to war, I’d rather our boys fought the good fight from the safety of an airbase in Lincolnshire than risked their lives on the ground in the Middle East.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘But in your case, that’s rhetorical. There’s no way you’ll be sent into the desert with a gun again, is there?’

Shepherd smiled thinly. ‘I hope not.’

‘So what’s really troubling you about the snipers and the IEDs? It’s not guilt. You say it’s shame and I get that, but that doesn’t explain why it’s weighing so heavily on your mind.’

Shepherd looked at the bar, then back at her. ‘Do you want another drink?’

‘Sure. After you’ve answered my question.’

Yet again she was right. He was trying to avoid answering her. ‘Liam is signing up. He’s joining the army.’

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘How old is he?’

‘Eighteen.’

‘So, no university?’

‘He puts up a very good argument. And he knows his own mind.’

Stockmann leaned back in her seat. ‘That’s … a surprise.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘You must be in two minds.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘He’s following in your footsteps. That has to make you proud. He admires you and what you’ve done. But, on the other hand, you more than anyone know the dangers.’

‘He’s got a good head on his shoulders. And he’ll be well trained.’

‘But none of that amounts to anything when a sniper has you in his sights.’

He raised his glass to her. ‘Thanks for pointing that out.’

‘I’m just verbalising what you’re obviously thinking,’ she said. ‘All this anger towards snipers, you know where it really stems from. It’s Liam you’re worried about.’

Shepherd smiled tightly. She was right, of course.

‘He’s signing up to be a soldier at a time when warfare is changing,’ she continued. ‘And in the brave new world it doesn’t matter how courageous you are or what skills you have. A lot of the time the difference between life and death comes down to dumb luck. To not being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

‘But that’s not reason enough to tell him not to sign up, is it?’ he asked.

She pushed her empty glass across the table towards him. ‘Only you can answer that.’

Shepherd was in a black cab heading back to Battersea when his phone rang. It was Willoughby-Brown. He let the call go through to voicemail while he asked the taxi driver to drop him at the nearest corner. He paid and got out, then called Willoughby-Brown. ‘We’ve tracked down the two men you recognised,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘The mosque in the photograph is the Madina Masjid in Sheffield. We’ve had it under observation since Seven Seven and we’ve checked recent CCTV footage and it looks as if they appeared in Sheffield two weeks ago. As I said, they haven’t applied for asylum or benefits and they’re not on any databases – not under those names, anyway.’

‘Are you going to pick them up?’

‘We’re keeping an eye on them, see if we can find out what they’re up to.’

‘You’re playing with fire,’ said Shepherd. ‘They’re obviously here for a reason.’

‘Agreed,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘But we know where they’re staying and we have our best surveillance people on them. The guy they were talking to in one of the pictures is known to us and he’s putting them up in his house.’

‘So what do you need me to do?’ asked Shepherd.

‘At the moment, nothing. You can start looking for an exit strategy from the O’Neill brothers.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘The Gerry and Karl Palmer thing has turned into a can of worms. When the cops went through Palmer’s house to find the marijuana, they got a stack of paperwork among which they found receipts for a number of storage lockers. In the lockers they found more drugs, an Aladdin’s cave of stolen goods and vehicles. The Palmers were looking at serious prison time so they asked for a deal. Seems that their robbing the O’Neills wasn’t down to luck. They’ve had their own man in the O’Neills’ organisation for years and know where all the bodies are buried.’ He laughed. ‘Not the real bodies, obviously. But their drug connections, their storage facilities, and a fair bit of intel about their money-laundering. We can add that to what we’ve got on Sammy Patel.’

‘How’s that going?’

‘Very well,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘The video footage is perfect. And him talking about Tommy O’Neill is the icing on the cake. We’re still following the money and as soon as he opens the account in Dublin we can bring him in. He’ll fold, he’ll have no choice, and when he does he’ll give up all the O’Neill money.’

‘So it’s enough to put them away?’

‘It’s enough to get them on remand, that’s for sure. That’ll take them out of circulation for a year or two. So we can move against Wedekind on the conspiracy-to-murder charge. With the O’Neills on remand, there’s a good chance we can get him to open their books. We can explain that without their assets the O’Neills lose a lot of their influence. Plus we already have Wedekind on tape, talking about Mark Ashton.’

Shepherd frowned. ‘You’ll threaten to get the video to Ashton? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘You make that sound so sinister, Daniel. We’ll exert whatever pressure we have to in order to get Wedekind to fold. I’m sure he will.’

‘So your whole case is based on planting evidence, blackmail and threats?’

‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. But all that matters is that the CPS has a case solid enough to put the O’Neills away for the rest of their natural lives. Their productive years anyway.’

‘And the end justifies the means?’

‘I’m afraid it does, yes. You’ve seen how the O’Neills operate. They destroy lives. They kill people. They profit from misery. Playing by the rules hasn’t worked and if we continue to do so they’ll never face justice. You don’t agree?’

‘It doesn’t matter whether I agree or not, does it?’

‘I don’t see why it upsets you, Daniel. Undercover work is hardly playing by the rules, is it? It involves lies and subterfuge. Hardly playing fair.’

Shepherd bit his tongue, knowing there was no point in arguing with the man.

‘So, it’ll take a day or two for the Palmers’ lawyers to get a deal in place with the CPS. Then we can bring the O’Neills in. But we’re going to have to talk about the timing. We have to get Tommy here in the UK. If he realises what’s going on he’ll go to ground in Dubai and we’ll never get him back.’

‘He’ll be back for the boxing,’ said Shepherd. ‘The Kuznetsov-Hughes fight.’

‘And he and his team will have to go through security, which means no nasty surprises,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘Perfect. Marty and Evans will be with him. We let them pass through security and sweep them up. You too, right? Best they see you being pulled in.’

‘Might be as well,’ said Shepherd. ‘If I’m not there, alarm bells will ring.’

‘Excellent. Saturday night it is. We’ll pick up Wedekind separately and see if he can be turned. Patel, too. With what you’ve gathered over the past few months, plus the Palmers’ intel, we’re in good shape. Job well done, Daniel.’

Willoughby-Brown ended the call and Shepherd looked at his watch. It was early afternoon, time to go home for a shower and a change of clothes before heading out for a night’s drinking with Paul Evans. Drinking with Evans was easy enough. He just hoped he wouldn’t get dragged along on another debt-collecting mission.

Willoughby-Brown woke up to the sound of his mobile ringing. He looked at the illuminated clock on his bedside table. It was just after five a.m. He took the call. It was Wendy Aspden. ‘They’re on the move,’ she said. ‘They left the house before dawn and went to a local mosque. There they picked up a metal case and put it in the boot of the car. They’re heading south now, to London.’

Willoughby-Brown sat up, rubbing his face. ‘What sort of case?’

‘Long and thin, three feet by a foot or so. There’s no way of knowing what’s inside but it looks like a gun case to me. We have photographs.’

‘We need to take a look at it, obviously,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘What’s the surveillance situation at the moment?’

‘We’re short-handed, just two cars. But I have two bikes
en route
. We’ll be fine.’

‘Okay. I’ll get you more eyes in London.’

Willoughby-Brown hung up and called MI5’s duty-man in the surveillance department, told him what was needed, then headed to the bathroom to shower and shave.

Shepherd got back from a run in Battersea Park to find two missed calls, both from blocked numbers, and a terse voicemail from Willoughby-Brown. Just two words – ‘Call me.’ Shepherd tapped in his number.

His boss answered immediately. ‘Where are you?’

‘Battersea,’ said Shepherd.

‘Your two jihadists are in London, and we think they’ve got a gun.’

‘You think?’

‘All we’ve seen is a case, but it looks like the sort that would contain a rifle. They had it in Sheffield and drove it down to London.’

‘And you’re thinking what? An assassination?’

‘No, we figured they were going to sell it on eBay,’ said Willoughby-Brown, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Of course we’re assuming they’re planning to shoot someone.’

‘So pull them in.’

‘We’re hoping to see who else is involved,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘I’ll pick you up outside in ten minutes.’

Shepherd showered, changed into jeans and a polo shirt, grabbed a jacket and hurried down to the pavement. Willoughby-Brown’s van was already there with the engine running. The door opened and Shepherd climbed in.

As he sat down the door closed electronically and the vehicle pulled away from the kerb. Willoughby-Brown handed him a photograph taken by the surveillance team. It was of Amma al-Kawthari holding a long metal case. Elyas Assadi was standing at the back of the car, a white Toyota Prius. The picture had been taken at night but it was clearly a gun case.

A third man – the one al-Kawthari and Assadi had been talking to outside the mosque – was opening the driver’s door. Willoughby-Brown tapped the third man. ‘Haaziq Masood,’ he said. ‘Uses the name Harry. British-born Pakistani. He went to Pakistan for six months about ten years ago, before we started regarding such family visits as a red flag. He’s on the dole and seems to be living beyond his means, which suggests that someone is funding him. He rents the house from a Pakistani landlord. His name is on the utility bills and the electoral roll.’

‘How could they get a rifle here in the UK?’ Shepherd asked. ‘It’s a specialist weapon.’

‘It wouldn’t be easy but it wouldn’t be impossible either. You know as well as I do that anything is available at the right price. I doubt there’d be one for sale in the UK but you could definitely pick one up in the States – you’d just have to get it into this country. The thing is, it’s not the weapon that matters, really. It’s the man. There’s no way of knowing what the gun is from the case, but if it’s a sniper’s rifle then a gun like that needs a professional to fire it.’

Shepherd passed the photograph back to Willoughby-Brown. ‘Where’s the gun now?’

‘A house in Ealing. Masood drove them down early this morning, dropped them off and headed back to Sheffield.’

‘And the rifle?’

‘We’re assuming they took it into the house with them but there was a bit of a cock-up surveillance-wise and we didn’t actually have eyes on them as they went inside.’

‘Run that by me again?’

‘The house is on a busy road and it was the time of the school run, which made it worse. We had a car in front and a bike but Masood turned into the driveway without indicating and our guys had no chance to slow down. By the time they’d doubled back the suspects were all inside. Masood left after half an hour. He’s being followed back to Sheffield as we speak and we’ll be looking to see if he still has the case, but I think it’s a fair assumption that he dropped it off with al-Kawthari and Assadi.’