Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) (18 page)

‘No it won’t, Simon, not if you do as I say. Now first enter with your ID, then go to Tools and select Delete Enquiry Option and you’ll see that Merlin asks for a two part secrecy password.’

‘Yes ma’am, I have that now.’

‘Good, now first enter DECEIT and then enter LUTHER.’

There was a moments silence before Simon came back to her, his voice now excited.

‘I think I’m in, ma’am.’

‘Excellent, and now do this.’

‘Put the computer room access list on the screen for Friday evening and see if there’s a record of Mr Dudley’s swipe going in. Now that isn’t difficult, is it?’

‘No ma’am.’

Simon hesitated for just a second, and as his fingers flew over the keyboard the list came up on the screen, and clicking down, he stopped and checked.

‘I have it, ma’am, and yes, Mr Dudley did swipe in, but at midnight precisely.’

Angela thought,
How clever - borderline to Saturday.

‘Now read the entries before and after his entry.’

‘Well before, was technician number 8, he’s logged as leaving for refreshment, and after is technician number 25, and he’s logged as being relieved by Mr Dudley.’

‘Oh really. So are you saying Mr Dudley was alone in the computer section at that time and with open access to Merlin?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘And how long was he alone?’

‘Exactly twelve minutes, ma’am.’

Angela felt the buzz of exhilaration. Her adversary might be clever, but she was better, and she was just about to tell Simon to delete the enquiry when her intuition jolted.

If her adversary had taken the dangerous gamble of coercing Dudley into entering Merlin, what else might he have done?

‘Oh Simon.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Before you delete, there’s something else you can do for me.’

Simon’s voice sounded on edge, ‘And what would that be, ma’am?’

‘Relax, Simon, I only want you to ask Merlin to contact the Minotaur.’

Simon froze as his career, his future and his world all began to tumble into free fall, because although the Minotaur was known to exist, it was also the most taboo subject.

‘The Minotaur? Oh ma’am, I couldn’t possibly do that.’

She gazed down to the shine of her fingernails.

‘I see. Oh well, if that’s your decision I have no choice but to respect your wishes, even though it’s perfectly clear you give no respect to mine, therefore I shall bring this conversation to an end, and in view of your disregard for my authority, you leave me with no choice but to inform the investigating officers, you entered Merlin without authority.’

A silence came on the line, just so heavy and desperate it could almost be heard.

‘Well actually, ma’am, I think I would like to help - but I don’t know how.’

Angela smiled, ‘Oh Simon, you’re such a worrier, because once you’ve transferred, Cardinal’s net is highly interactive, although I will expect complete amnesia later.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Good, so first we must transfer.’

‘Transfer?’

‘But of course, how else can we connect.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘Well you’re already in the Merlin wizard, so go to Tools, click Options and tell me what you see.’

Simon’s fingers worked quickly, but he shrugged, ‘It just looks normal.’

‘Good, that’s the intention. Now look down to the foot of the communications box, do you see a loose hyphen, all on its own?’

‘Oh yes. So there is.’

‘Then double click on it, but Simon, be careful, it’s a Cardinal gateway and you won’t be very popular if you activate a negative Firewall. Now what do you see?’

‘Well there’s just a list of options.’

‘Correct. So click on, Card dot Sat Com, and tell me what you see.’

‘There’s a password request.’

‘That’s right. So now type, Com 40, and hit the return.’

There was a short silence while Simon’s fingers worked the keyboard.

‘Come on Simon, what do you see now?’

‘Well ma’am, it’s quite fantastic really, I can see a virtual solar system.’

‘Good. You now have access to Cardinal’s router, so all you have to do now is request an audience with his majesty, The Minotaur.’

‘But how, ma’am?’

‘Oh, it’s easy enough. So how good is your Greek Mythology?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Never mind. It’s similar to sending an email, with a few add on security features, so just follow my instructions carefully. Can you see the Minotaur’s icon, an M with a red arrow wrapped around it?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Okay, double click on it and you’ll see a password request in ever changing colours, now wait until it turns blood red, and type CERBERUS and click enter.’

‘Very well, ma’am.’

Angela rapped her fingertips on the desk, ‘Aren’t you in yet, Simon?’

‘I’m not sure, there are three question marks now.’

‘Good, now wait until they merge, and type, Pasiphae dot Artemis, and click enter.’

Simon watched as the three question marks turned into snakes and entwined together to form a single question mark, and as his fingers flew over the keyboard, a labyrinth appeared on the screen, and in the centre was the bronzed figure of a man, but his head was of a bull’s and he seemed angry, looking and searching all the time, turning first one way and then the other.

‘Well Simon, what have you got now?’

‘I’m not sure, ma’am, it looks like a man in a maze but he’s got the head of a bull.’

‘Excellent. Now carefully click on his penis.’

‘His … Yes ma’am.’

‘What do you see now?’

‘He’s fighting a man. Ah, the bull’s dead, and now there’s a name, Theseus.’

‘Good boy, Simon, you’re in. Now carefully click on the T of Theseus, and type, QUESTION. Any entry denied? and click enter.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘So? Come on Simon, what have you got?’

‘Well there’s only one line, and it reads, Entry denied Saturday @ 0008.’

Angela ran up the stairs, her adrenaline bursting, and although it seemed almost impossible just a few hours ago, the game had more or less levelled up again. Smiling, she let her nightdress fall and slipped into bed.

‘Well who’s a clever boy then?’

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, ‘So is Dudley the man?’

‘He certainly is, my darling boy, and now I’ll have him for breakfast.’

She thoughtfully stroked his hair, ‘It’s funny, we make a good team, you and I.’

‘Yeah. So what happens now?’

Roaming her hand inquisitively down over his body, she began to play with him.

‘Well tomorrow, you must make that naughty man confess to a password he’s used.’

Frank gave her a questioning look, but before he could speak, she kissed him on the lips.

‘But don’t worry about that now, just relax, I’ll explain everything in the morning, and when you’ve made him talk, I’ll snip him. It’s teamwork. See?’

1
7

Tara slowly came awake and waited for the same old nightmares to relive themselves, but nothing came today and she was surprised. Where were the monsters?

She remembered being so frightened in the tavern, but Mr Lewis seemed to understand, and promised, if he could, things would be better from now on.

But could she cope with something new? And what would she do?

She had never made a personal decision in her life. She’d never been allowed to.

Everything had been decided by Uncle Freddie and his housekeeper, Jennifer Stacey.

When to go to sleep, when to wake and what to do, and although Stacey had given her a classical education, her main interest had always been teaching her how to please men.

It had been quite horrible, but worst of all, it had become normal in her life.

Normal to sit and listen as Stacey described in sometimes horribly embarrassing detail what was expected of her in return for her privileged life with Uncle Freddie.

And now, here she was, standing all alone at the most important crossroads in her life, but with absolutely no idea of how to step over into a private new world of her own.

Taking a deep breath, she searched the cupboards and found two rubbish bags, and returning to that terrible room of secrets, filled the bags with the horrible clothes till all that remained was her Chinese dress, the little black one, the grey suit, one pair of shoes and one set of underwear.

Dragging the bags out, she left them in the hall and pushed the door tightly closed.

So was it over? Could it really be over, because Uncle Freddie was wonderfully dead and with Mr Lewis to help her, the others would surely stay away, wouldn’t they?

It was going to be alright. Wasn’t it?

Walking out to the balcony, she looked over the estate and spoke in a hushed voice.

‘Hello world. My name is Tara Goodwin, and I’m very pleased to meet you.’

Christiana awoke early, and all she could hear was Lucinda gently slumbering beside her, and as she became more awake, so the memories returned.

It had all started back in that grubby hotel room in Washington DC, where her controller, Mike Tomlinson briefed her about a mission that had a starting point of almost nowhere.

It was just a comment made by the Military Intelligence agent, Carl Hendricks about a conversation he’d overheard during a Benefit at the White House.

Someone had recognised an agent from British MI5 and he’d been nosing around where he shouldn’t and asking questions about Area 57.

The National Security chiefs had taken that badly, after all, the Brits were more aware of Area 57 than anyone, so why the questions?

And then it got worse.

The British secret services operated a dual system, MI6 handling the international side while MI5 dealt with internal security issues, so it raised the obvious question.

Why would an MI5 agent ask questions about Area 57 way over there in the States?

It didn’t make any sense.

The alarm bells had really started ringing when enquiries to London revealed that the British were just as surprised as they were, and everything went supernova when the agent was tipped off and managed to slip out through the CIA net.

So the National Security chiefs were left with a two sided puzzle, a homeland enquiry, which in normal circumstances would be investigated by the FBI, and an international enquiry which would normally fall into the hands of the CIA, but in this case, neither agency could be used because it involved the National Security of its closest ally, the UK, and in such delicate cases there was only one possible solution, to use a covert specialist agent from The Royal Edict Force, and simply because it doesn’t officially exist.

Having been given Proteus Absolution, she was asked to make a covert inquiry, just take a vacation in the UK and listen-up for any news on the international grapevine, but none of her friends or contacts had heard anything, and then her luck changed.

It had been during a weekend stopover at Martin Drake’s house, and strolling back from the pub one evening, he’d told her in confidence, Robin Sheverill had died out of season and had been found floating in the Rhine outside of Frankfurt.

His name jogged her memory and she’d remembered working with him years ago in Beirut when he’d been looking for the lost Section man, and she thought his death was a real shame because he’d been a damned good operative.

The more she’d thought about it, the more Sheverill’s death had nagged at her, it was as if Martin Drake was hinting something was wrong and Sheverill’s death didn’t add up.

So she’d tracked down some of her old Section contacts and called on Ted Willis at his cottage in Malmesbury, and when he’d let slip that Robin Sheverill had been murdered whilst on Cardinal secondment, her intuition had jumped halfway to the moon, because something was definitely wrong.

She remembered asking around, but nobody mentioned Sheverill, his death, Cardinal or any bloodletting, and that was weird.

If Sheverill had been killed whilst on Cardinal secondment, Cardinal would have taken retribution just as surely as night follows day and the word would have gone round the agencies like a bushfire, but nothing happened, no trackers sent out and no retribution.

So the only answer, even if crazy, was the murder was an in house affair, but if Cardinal were now killing their own, something really had come off the wall.

Thinking back, she remembered how easy it had been to get involved with Sheverill’s widow, but she’d only intended to do some digging and hadn’t bargained on Lucinda being bi-sexual and half mad.

But there again, having sex with her had made things far easier, and as the servants were halfway crazy as well, it made it quite easy to manipulate Martha, and convincing her that Lucinda’s mental problems could be tied up with her dead husband’s secret work, she’d been more than willing to do anything to ease the daily pain.

And Martha had found the diary, and although it had been the breakthrough she needed, it had only led to yet more problems when the four figure code had been discovered.

She sighed at the thought of Sheverill’s diary and the code that could hold the clue, because there wasn’t a worse problem than Area 57, or a worse agency to deal with than Cardinal, and she was beginning to wonder if it could all be linked together, along with that creepy MI5 blond.

Suddenly, Dimitri came into her mind, and although it would be a gamble to contact him, at least he was safely out of the international circuit, and he’d been away from the system for long enough not to raise any eyebrows, and anyway, what else could she do.

She had no choice, that rogue MI5 agent was still out there, and if Cardinal really had murdered one of their own, they might be involved in some way.

So it could all hang together, and especially as everything in this mess was British.

The blond MI5 agent, Robin Sheverill, Area 57 and Cardinal.

But to find out what the Brits were doing, an American had to contact a Russian.

Oh great. Have a nice day, Chrissy.

Frank awoke to the incessant bleeping of the clock alarm, and turning, saw Angela reach out to cancel the noise, but when she threw back the duvet and quickly stepped out of bed, it reminded him that time was running out fast for Tara.

Listening to her padding to the bathroom, he remembered the milkman and knew this could be the day of Dudley’s reckoning, but if the fool really had dug his own grave, nothing could be done for him because Daniels and Coogan were beyond control, and to make everything worse, Monty’s health was a disaster, and if he did come back, his only real concern would be for his daughter because she was also in danger, so that left Tara, and as Angela wanted her cleansed, he had to get her out quick.

Hearing Angela making her way down to the kitchen, he got washed and dressed, but when he sat down to eat, she thought he seemed quiet and particularly thoughtful today.

‘Something bothering you?’

He glanced up, ‘Not especially, but I’ll be glad when this is all over.’

She watched him idly picking at his food and wondered if he was hiding something.

‘Yes. So will I.’

Shrugging to her thoughts, she explained the blockage of the Sanderson file, but now they had proof of Dudley’s swipe going into the computer room, it might be possible to put enough pressure on him to reveal the password, get into the Sanderson file and see who recruited her.

Frank pushed the plate away, ‘But Dudley must have been crazy to take that chance, unless he had no choice, just running scared.’

Angela nodded, ‘And that’s the trouble, because if he is following orders, as you say, running scared, he might be too frightened to reveal the password whatever we do.’

‘Or give the wrong one.’

Angela stared at him, ‘Jesus, what a thought, we’ve only got two chances before Merlin wipes the file and we’ll never find out who recruited her.’

He lit a cigarette, ‘Well I can’t see him talking that easy, can you?’

‘No, I guess not, but I’ve just got to have that password, so do what you like with him, it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s finished anyway.’

‘So he really is history?’

‘Of course, and so will be anyone who has knowledge of this particular operation, it’s how Cardinal maintains its secrecy, I thought you understood that.’

He thought of Daniels and Coogan, ‘Yeah. So what happens to me and Monty?’

She tapped her fingertips on the table as convoluted thoughts flitted through her mind.

‘Well as Mr Montague’s future health is a little uncertain, that particular problem shouldn’t arise, providing he’s a good boy.’

‘Right. So that just leaves me.’

Choosing her words with great care, she wondered what his reaction would be.

‘Yes, indeed … Well as we know, when someone has been seconded into Cardinal, and has observed its, shall we say, somewhat unorthodox procedures, it naturally becomes undesirable that the person should return to whence they came.’

Glancing to him, she watched his expression.

‘But having said that, it might be possible to persuade certain people into letting you stay, and if you were accepted, you would have the safety of the family umbrella for ever.’

Frank wondered who the hell would want Daniels and Coogan as family.

‘But if your appointment was approved, it would be unprecedented, although I might be able to persuade certain people of the benefit of having a permanent male presence within the structure of Cardinal.’

Listening, he suddenly realised that Cardinal must be all female, so did that include Daniels and Coogan?

And she’d also made it quite clear that he had no choice, and now began to wonder if Robin Sheverill had made the wrong decision.

Sergeant Jenkins walked out onto the veranda and warily sniffed the air of a new day, and looking across to the barrier, called the guard over.

‘Now then lad, the top brass are due in at ten, and you know who I mean, don’t you, so make your sergeant a happy chappy and let’s have no fuck-ups, comprende?’

‘Right sarge.’

Later, when his official car stopped at the main gate, Frank noticed the guard’s casual manner had gone and was checking him in following exact regulations. Looking at the guard’s clipboard, he wondered if Monty was still in the game.

‘Tell me, is Mr Montague booked in?’

‘Yes sir, the clinic called and said he should be here by ten o’clock.’

‘Good.’ He looked over to the gatehouse, ‘So who’s the duty sergeant?’

‘Sergeant Jenkins, sir.’

‘What again?’

‘Yes sir. We’re a bit short staffed at the moment.’

‘Okay, I’ll wait in the lodge, and call me when Mr Montague arrives.’

Sergeant Jenkins cursed under his breath when Frank came through the private door.

‘Good morning, sir. Is there something I can do for you?’

‘Yeah, I could murder a coffee.’

Nodding, the sergeant went through to the kitchen, and as he set the kettle to boil he watched through the open doorway as Frank read the bulletins on the notice board, but scowled when he saw him casually looking through the papers on his desk.

‘Here we are, sir, black no sugar.’

‘Thanks, and have you got some brandy to liven it up?’

‘Yes sir, but strictly for medicinal purposes, of course.’

‘Yeah, right. Have a shot yourself.’

Looking him over, Frank thought the sergeant seemed uneasy.

‘Sarge, tell me - so how good are your records?’

The sergeant twitched, ‘Records? What records, sir?’

‘Duty rosters. How long do you keep them?’

‘Well regulations say three months, but I like to keep them for six.’

Frank thoughtfully gazed out through the window.

‘Good - keep them safe, I might be needing them.’