Elephants can't hide forever (23 page)

The virus would be delivered to Mike in three syringes marked in separate colours to denote who got which one. Mike, having never met either Mouse or Danny, had to guess their weight on the spot
- even the Professor might have got suspicious if he said he’d have to find out. As it happened, he figured two bank robbers were unlikely to come in at much under fourteen stone, even after
a considerable time in the shovel. The virus would live comfortably within the phials for up to three weeks, this was achievable, and Mike knew Cathy was resourceful enough to get them inside well
within this time. And that was that, quite unbelievably, in one evening Mike had a robust plan. Both men agreed to meet the next night for Mike to collect the goods. As they left the pub to go
their separate ways Mike had one last thing to say, “Don, when this is done, I am personally going to ensure you become an honorary member of the unit.”

“Who Dares Wins,” quipped the Professor.

They parted into the night, each man very happy with the potential outcome.

As soon as Mike had returned to the house in Hampshire he told Cathy everything; he was in fact very pleased how quickly the plan had moved, and he was now anticipating being
reunited with Jane in a few weeks. However, the events of the last couple of days meant he now felt confident enough to lay some ground rules of his own down. He told Cathy that as events were
moving quicker than anyone could have expected, he felt at this stage, where there was no turning back, that half of the million pounds that had been the original bribe, should be paid into an
account of his choosing, and this should be paid prior to the hospital transfer. The point was that if the bust out now went belly up, he would personally be banged up, probably for the rest of his
life and there would be no point in harming or even keeping Jane hostage, therefore she should be able to rebuild her life with the help of the half million.

Cathy considered this, conferred with Sammy who was the bag man, and figured Mike’s request was reasonable; after all it was obvious Mike had accepted that Jane would come to harm if he
tried anything, and things had moved so fast that what could Mike do at this late stage? Cathy had therefore agreed that as soon as the phials were inside the prison she would have the half million
transferred into Mike’s bank. Although Sammy had wanted to pay in cash, Mike had said it was Jane’s insurance money and it needed to be secure.

They discussed how quickly a bent screw had to be identified, and whilst Mouse was on board, how did the other two feel about injecting themselves with a deadly virus, with no guarantees they
would get immunisation? Cathy had taken all these uncertainties onboard and arranged a fast track visit to Mouse the next day, agreed by the Governor due to Mouse’s condition. Dave Penny was
instructed to visit some old friends at an Essex scrap yard for them to obtain an ambulance and get it painted up, by which time Mouse would have nominated a Prison Officer who, for a nice little
earner, would get the drugs inside. Sammy would sort him or her out.

The final handover of the guys once they were out was a little more tricky; no one had actually spoken of the aftermath and Penny was of the opinion that it was Mike’s responsibility not
only to get them out of prison, but out of the country as well. After some considerable argy bargy it was agreed that Sammy had the necessary contacts to facilitate a quicker departure from the UK
than Mike, much to Mike’s relief, and so the deal would be complete as soon as the men were delivered to the house, the quid pro quo being Jock Wallace was Mike’s problem, and would
stay with him..

Mike would take the Mondeo over to the Island the day before, and stash it some where discreet, so when he had the three men in the ambulance he could switch them over to the Ford on the Island
rather than the mainland, the professor however was to be kept in the dark of this switch, so should he call the ferry company to warn them of the arrival of an ambulance arriving full of Category
A convicts with a tropical disease, the ferry operators would not be looking for any thing else. Mike would do the crossing back solo as five large men squeezed into the Ford might draw unwanted
attention. Mike now had both the virus and the antidote with him, so a date was set for two weeks time, if all went to plan.

John Illes looked drawn. He was due to start the first round of chemotherapy in a few days, but his eyes had returned to life as he spoke with the other two potential escapees. It was
association time on A wing and they had total privacy.

“This is it then boys, tonight’s the night, we should have a celebration,” said Mouse.

“Or a fucking wake” Danny replied, not quite grasping the irony in those words. When Mouse had gathered them together a couple of weeks ago and told them of the plot, Danny had
laughed out loud, but soon sobered up when he saw Mouse wasn’t joking.

“Not on your, or my life, am I going to jack up a barrel of poison, you can but I’m staying,” was his initial reaction.

“What about you Jock?” Mouse enquired.

“To tell you the truth” Jock started, “I would be with Danny on this one, but, and it’s a big but, I’ve known Mike Tobin for a long time. I’ve seen him pull
stuff off that makes your little numbers look like corner shop shoplifting. I’ve watched him do things to people that would turn your stomachs. Failure is just not part of his vocabulary,
therefore he is the only man in the world I would trust with this one, so I’m in, just one question, and I hope shitting yourself is part of the symptoms.” All three laughed.

“Right then,” Mouse had said, “Cathy’s due back tomorrow, and she needs to know who’s in and who’s out, and the address of one of the bent screws. I’ll
tell her we want two doses, one for me and one for Jock, the screws will be easy enough.”

“Three” came the reply from a very scared Danny Gallagher.

Mouse had secured the goods that day. The screw who had done the business had initially volunteered to help Mouse for nothing. Smuggling stuff in for the lags was a piece of cake and he and
several others were making twice their pay easily; however, to have such a well respected villain as John Illes in his debt was far more useful than a buckshee monkey. Mouse, on the other hand, had
insisted he take the drink from Sammy and that was that.

“Here’s what we do,” said Mouse, “when recreation finishes we go back to the wing, and we’ve got fifteen minutes before lockdown when we can meet in my cell. You,
Jock, will be the doctor. I’m sure you know how to do this thing. For starters, I’m shit scared of needles and for seconds, we’ve only got one chance at this, if Danny or I balls
it up there aint no second helpings, that’s it.”

“Yup, that’s fine” replied Jock. It won’t take a minute to do you both. What about the evidence, Mouse, if we’re too sick to dump it?”

“Sorted” replied Mouse. “Jonny Reid, the screw who brought it in, will collect the empties in the morning. Cathy says the sickness will kick in twenty four to forty eight
hours, so hopefully some time tomorrow night we’ll all start to look pretty bad.”

“Yes, lets hope the dose of Ebola I’m sticking in my veins does the trick and fucks me right up,” Danny said with a deadpan face - more laughter, albeit exceptionally nervous
laughter.

The bell sounded for the end of recreation. It was time to return to A wing for lockdown. The three of them assembled in Mouse’s cell.

“No point in delaying things now.” stated Jock, “Both of you, roll up your right shirts and tie your belts around your upper arms. Mouse, give me the syringes
please.”

Mouse reached into his trouser pocket, but his hand was shaking so much Jock had to pull them out.

“Fucking hell” said Mouse, “I wasn’t this scared when we did the Brinks Mat.”

Danny just sat ashen faced, his throat too dry to speak. Jock readied the first syringe, giving the deadly tube a small flick with his thumb to release any small air bubbles - this was going
straight into the main vein, mainlining as the prison junkies called it, and Jock knew an air bubble passing through the heart could seize up the aorta and they’d be dead before the virus got
to work. Without further ado, Jock stuck the needle into the now bulging vein of Mouse, withdrew the plunger slightly to ensure he was into the main line, and then pushed it right down, the yellow
liquid disappearing into the body of Mouse. Danny was next and the same routine was followed. As Jock withdrew the needle from Danny’s arm he said, “You know, on second
thoughts...” SAS humour was not appreciated, so he followed suit and all three were now infected with the deadly pathogen.

The next afternoon Mouse received a visit from Cathy. As soon as she saw him she thought he looked distinctly flushed, but that might have been her imagination.

“Well did you go through with it?” she asked apprehensively.

Mouse nodded, he was undoubtedly starting to feel a little strange.

“Right then,” Cathy started, “We’ve really no time to lose. As soon as I leave here, I’ve got to call Sammy. In forty eight hours, if what they’ve told us is
right, you’re going to be out of here and back at the house, you’re going to be pretty sick but we can’t afford to hang around. It will only be a matter of hours before the old
bill realise what’s happened, in which time you and Danny need to be in the air.”

Cathy and Sammy had chartered a small plane to fly across the Channel. The owner was an acquaintance of Sammy’s from the old days, and the hundred grand Sammy had bunged him was more than
enough to ensure that the plane would be ready to fly at a moment’s notice. Sammy had been busy, doing what he did well, fixings things, so the plane would land in Normandy where another
acquaintance would pick them up and get them into Charles De Gaulle by road. They would have undetectable fake passports, supplied by yet another acquaintance, and then onto the final leg - Panama.
Panama was the new Costa Del Crime, and Sammy had some colleagues there as well. A private hospital had already been booked for Mouse, it seemed all avenues were accounted for.

“What of the soldier boys?” asked Mouse.

“Not your problem,” said Cathy ominously. “Sammy’s sorting them out”

When Sammy had visited the Essex scrap yard, it wasn’t only the ambulance he had asked the boys to sort.

With that, Cathy bade her farewell. It seemed almost surreal as she made her last passing comment: “See you at home in a day or two.”

Cathy got out on the Glisson Road and rang Sammy.

“We go,” was all she said as she entered her taxi back to the ferry.

Back at the house Sammy relayed the message. In truth, all was ready in anticipation. Don Gooch was already in situ at St Mary’s, having arranged some impromptu lectures for the interns,
the Mondeo was safely stashed on the Island, and the hooky ambulance was hidden in the garage, looking a dead ringer, with a souped up engine- the Essex lads had done well. It was now a question of
Mike awaiting a call from the Professor.

The morning after Cathy’s visit, the cells on A wing were opened as always, at eight am sharp. The form was, all convicts would muster on the wing’s landing for a headcount before
being escorted down for breakfast. This morning’s rota was ironically led by Jonny Reid, as the warden in charge of counting the men, to ensure none of them had hopped off in the night. As he
did the double take due to three cons being missing, a knot started to grow in his stomach; occasionally you might get one absentee due to sickness, but he just knew something was very, very bad
this morning. The three cons missing were the three he had smuggled the drugs in for, and his immediate thoughts were that he had unwittingly brought in some stuff from those on the outside who
wished them harm, and they had been poisoned. He didn’t want to press the panic button just yet, he needed time to make sure his arse was covered if the worst came to the worst, so he called
a couple of colleagues for a full cell search.

The first cell to be visited was Mouse’s, and as Reid entered all he could manage to say was, “Fucking, fucking Hell.” The sight that greeted him was some thing alien to
anything he had ever come across in the past. Mouse lay on his back, his eyes red and bulging. He had obviously lost control of all bodily functions, blood was seeping from his nose, and there was
a slight discharge from his ears - he looked awful.

Jonny Reid, gaining some composure immediately, called the Governor and the medical station and told them to get up to A wing as fast as they could. He entered Danny’s cell - the same
scene awaited him there. Reid couldn’t hold his stomach back and emptied the contents right there on the cell floor. Wallace’s cell was the same.

The resident doctor arrived first, took one look at Mouse, and almost gagged himself. This was well and truly out of his remit. The Governor was quick to react - a quick discussion between the
doctor and the Governor followed, and both men concluded that whatever was affecting the three men was not good, not good at all.

“Governor, I’m going to call St Mary’s,” said the doctor, “whatever this is, these men should be in a quarantine unit immediately, just in case it’s
contagious. Best you lock down but evacuate this wing we can’t be too careful.”

The Governor nodded vigorously. The last thing he wanted was a full blown case of Legionnaires Disease, or whatever it was, on his watch.

Dr Reuben Goldstein was at his desk in the lower wing of St Mary’s, chatting with Don Gooch about the forthcoming day’s lectures, when the call came in from the prison, He listened
intently.

“Tell me again, Doctor, very slowly and very thoroughly, the symptoms you are seeing. I have a colleague with me who is an expert in the field of unusual diseases, I’m putting you on
speaker phone,” he said very calmly.

The doctor described in great detail what he was witnessing.

“Stay on the line,” instructed Reuben, “Don, I don’t like the sound of this one little bit,” he said to Don.