Dark Suits and Sad Songs (30 page)

Daley shook his head.

‘Anyone would think that, in today’s modern world, information springs from the ether, out of a clear blue sky and straight into their computer or smartphone.’

‘What’s your point?’

‘These little lines represent the conduits of something we use every day: the internet.’

‘Surely global internet traffic is conducted via satellite?’

‘Oh, sure, about five per cent of it is. The rest travels the world via this network of cables.’

Daley was surprised. ‘Surely that’s outdated technology now?’

‘It’s still the best, and the safest, way to do it. Satellites are all very well, but they can’t process the huge amounts of information reliably or quickly enough. So the world is served by this – fibre-optic cables that ping information all over the planet faster than you can think.’

Daley studied the lines more closely, taking in their locations. He noted that one seemed to travel from the Washington area and terminate about halfway up the Kintyre peninsula, part of which was depicted on Cudihey’s map. ‘Why the different colours?’

‘White lines are just your normal, run-of-the-mill stuff. You know, Facebook, Twitter, all that shit. Your searches – or most of them – come to you right through these.’

‘To my
wireless
broadband.’

‘Yeah, kinda ironic, isn’t it? The only wireless bit is the few feet from your router to you.’

‘So what about the red and black cables?’

‘Red cables run more sensitive information: banking, some international diplomatic traffic, the stock markets and so on. It’s probably more appropriate to consider this as the intranet rather than the internet.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that these connect points in a specific, rather than general, way. Access to the information that travels down these babies is limited. Nothing you raise on Google comes down these. It was down these cables that the world’s economic systems nearly collapsed back in 2008.’

‘And the black?’

‘I can’t tell you much about the black, Jim. But that’s why you’re here. Kinda frustrating, ain’t it?’

Daley looked up at the map again. The line that travelled
between Washington DC and the Kintyre peninsula was black.

Scott tried to keep his eye on Abdic, still sitting on the bollard, without making it obvious that he was surveilling him. He was about forty yards away and, with each step he took, was finding it harder to hold his nerve.

Suddenly, Abdic stood. He started to walk towards Scott, his arms, knotted with thick cords of muscle, outstretched.

Scott, with only seconds to weigh up the situation, fumbled for his handgun. ‘That’s far enough, sir. Stop! I’m a police officer,’ he shouted. He grabbed the butt of the pistol at his back just as Abdic broke into a run. Scott’s hands were shaking and drenched with perspiration; he lost his purchase on the gun and it went clattering to the ground at his feet. He could hear the squeal of tyres as Abdic leaped towards him, driving a fist towards his solar plexus.

‘Fuck!’ Rainsford gunned his car down to the entrance to the small pier, sliding to a stop on the loose stones. He grabbed his sidearm from its holster and rolled out of the car, landing on the hard tarmac with a thud as the two police cars, lights flashing, pulled up behind him.

Though he’d had time to brace himself, Scott had never felt a blow like it. Abdic’s balled fist caught him just under his ribs; light flickered and he thought he would faint. Though Scott was a full head taller than his attacker, he was less than half as broad. As Abdic enveloped him in an agonising, suffocating bear hug, then pulled him sideways, he was powerless to resist.

Rainsford rushed out from behind his car just in time to see Scott, his arms pinioned to his sides, disappear over the
edge of the pier with Abdic, sending seabirds into squawking flight, and eliciting a muffled scream from the girl who was watching these events unfold from inside the shop.

‘Jim, I cannot tell you what information runs along the black cables, but suffice it to say the Western world depends upon it to keep us safe from other nations, rogue states, the terrorist threat. They form the core network of NATO’s security. You’re going to have to take my word on this.’

Daley looked at the point on the Kintyre coast where the black cable found land. ‘This cable comes in at Dundraven beach, am I right?’

‘Yes,’ said Callaghan, ‘the fenced-off compound that you guys have asked the MOD about is where it comes ashore.’

‘Why not run the cable directly into London?’

‘In the event of any attack – let’s say nuclear, or terrorist – London might be compromised. You’ll know the old saying, “hiding in plain sight”?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is a perfect example: a nondescript little compound beside a little white beach, here on the lovely west coast of Scotland. What could be more innocent?’

‘Don’t tell me – someone’s found it?’

‘We don’t know who, but we know it happened within the last eighteen months. The cable was compromised off the coast of Scotland, and we’re trying our best to prevent it happening again. It was no coincidence that your Mr Cudihey had this on a map. The real question, the one we’re all trying to solve, is where does he fit into all of this?’

‘He worked for the Scottish Government. Surely they know about this cable?’

‘Kinda out of his league, wouldn’t you say? We know you found his caravan close to the cable’s landing point.’

‘And?’

‘We need to know what was in that caravan. Who was he working with? What do you know?’

‘Why should I tell you? You kidnapped and blindfolded me; how do I know I can trust you?’

Callaghan paused. ‘I brought you here, Jim, to cut out the crap before this thing gets too big.’

‘Well, let’s cut the crap then,’ said Daley. ‘Tell me about the strange lights in the sky.’

‘Jim, I think I can trust you. But you’ve got to give me something back.’

Daley sighed. ‘Honestly, we don’t know a lot. Seems like Cudihey was a bit of an oddball. We found sex toys and photographs of his colleague in the caravan. But there were photos of the compound as well, the undersea line. He obviously knew what it was, but I don’t know who he was passing the information on to.’

‘And what about the Dragon?’

‘He and his accomplice murdered a local drug dealer and have now kidnapped a teenage girl called Alice Taylor.’

‘You think there’s any connection between these things?’

‘Yes,’ said Daley. ‘I suspect there is. But I don’t know what.’

Callaghan hesitated, and then got up from behind his desk. ‘Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’

Intrigued, Daley followed Callaghan out of the office into a dark, cold corridor. Their footsteps echoed on a smooth concrete floor as they turned a corner into a large hangar.

In the gloom, Daley could make out an indistinct shape,
lit only by a pale, barely perceptible white light that cast an ethereal glow over the object. It was about the length and height of a bus, but broader. Around its perimeter, soldiers with rifles stood to attention as Daley and Callaghan appeared.

‘As you were, gentlemen,’ ordered Callaghan as they neared the soldiers. ‘Major Meyer, if you please.’

‘Yes, sir,’ replied a loud voice; there followed some more barked commands, then, slowly, the lighting levels were increased.

‘I warn you, Mr Daley, once the genie is outta the bottle, he’s hard to put back in.’

Daley’s jaw dropped as the object was revealed. ‘Tell me that’s not what I think it is.’

‘And what do you think it is?’

‘A flying saucer, UFO, I . . . I don’t know.’

‘You wanna know something, Jim? You’re just about right. Meet Aurora, the most advanced military aircraft the world has ever seen, and not many in the world have seen her.’

Rainsford rushed to the side of the pier, his pistol firmly grasped between both hands, two armed cops behind him. He looked cautiously over the side and was startled when he saw Scott lying on the deck of a small boat, his body still, his eyes closed.

‘Brian,’ Rainsford called out in a hoarse whisper, looking from one end of the boat to the other. ‘Brian!’ he called again. Scott didn’t move.

Footsteps from behind them prompted all three police officers to turn, guns pointed at the girl from the shop who, at the sight of the weapons, let out a shriek.

‘Get back behind the cars – now!’ shouted Rainsford, as
the constable who had been left to guard the head of the pier beckoned to her to follow him.

There was a buzzing noise to his right, and squinting into the sun, Rainsford made out the sleek hull of a wooden pleasure boat hoving into view around the bottom of the pier. At the stern, an older man sat at an outboard motor, while on the prow, a blond boy stood staring at the boat tied up at the pier.

Rainsford waved frantically, and the man at the tiller got the message and began to turn his vessel in a wide arc into the bay, just as the craft below the police officers rocked sideways in its moorings. The sun glinted off Abdic’s bald head as he hurled himself across the boat, darting behind the small cabin before the policemen could take action.

‘We are armed police, give yourself up, Mr Abdic,’ shouted Rainsford, cursing the situation in which he found himself. He had radioed for back-up, but that would be at least five minutes away. A lot could happen in that time.

The cackle of laughter began to echo across the water, coming from behind the cabin where Abdic crouched, his gun pointing at Scott, who lay pale and motionless on the wooden deck, only feet away.

38

Daley stared at the object before him. The aircraft was like nothing he had ever seen before. Where it began and ended was indistinct, the sharp lines of the wings tapering into invisibility. It drew in the light; none of the dim lamps in the massive hangar reflected on its surface. The cockpit was a slight swell in the smooth silhouette, picked out in a shade of black that shimmered like oil on water.

‘Aurora,’ said Callaghan, his voice low. ‘We are all playing for big stakes here.’

‘Aren’t you worried that I’ll rush off to the press with my story?’

‘With all respect, do you really think anyone would believe an over-worked, overweight, forty-something small-town cop? The press would tear you apart, Jim.’

‘Get real. Where do I fit in with all of this?’ Daley gestured at the black aircraft, fading back into the shadows in the diminishing light.

‘Follow me.’

The sound of Pavel Abdic’s laughter was punctuated by two loud shots, the reports of which whined in the still air. The policemen ducked, and when Rainsford looked back up,
Abdic was standing over Scott’s body, his gun pointed at the unconscious policeman’s head. Sniggering to himself, with his gun trained on Scott and his eyes fixed on Rainsford, he kneeled down and began to untie the aft rope, one of two that secured the boat to the pier.

‘I can take him out, Sergeant,’ a young cop whispered to DS Rainsford.

‘No. If you even twitch, he’ll blow Sergeant Scott’s head off. Do nothing.’

Abdic stopped what he was doing and thrust his gun nearer to Scott’s head, making Rainsford jump back instinctively.

‘No, no!’ he shouted, holding his hand up, palm facing Abdic, to demonstrate that they weren’t going to take action.

The huge man went back to his task, and the rope slipped from the rear of the craft and plopped into the still waters of the bay; the boat’s stern began to drift from the pier. Abdic stood and pointed to the prow of the boat, where one remaining rope was all that secured the boat to the pier.

Rainsford nodded his head slowly, to show that he understood that Abdic intended to release that hawser too, then sail away, with Scott on board.

The young DS racked his brains as Abdic made his way over the recumbent figure of Scott and towards the front of the vessel. Just as he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to let Abdic escape, a sudden movement caught his eye. As the broad man stepped over Scott with his short legs, the policeman opened his eyes, then swung his foot up and viciously kicked Abdic between the legs. Abdic fell to the deck, clutching his crotch, his pistol spinning away from him. In one swift motion, Scott reached
over, grabbed the weapon, and was on his feet, pointing it at Abdic, whose whole head had turned a deep crimson as he doubled over with pain.

‘See what I mean aboot situations like this, DS Rainsford?’ Scott shouted up. ‘You never know what the fuck’s gonnae happen. Get doon here and cuff this big bugger.’ Scott smiled up at his colleague, who clambered down onto the vessel.

Scott rubbed his forehead and aimed a kick at the small of Abdic’s back. ‘Aye, an’ that’s for the wallop o’er the heid you gave me, you ugly bastard. I can always be sure o’ a few things when I’m doon here: I’ll drink too much whisky, an’ some bastard will try tae hit me o’er the heid, shoot me, or get me on a fucking boat.’

Daley blinked as he walked out into the sunshine. The two men strolled across a long runway. Soon, they were on a grass verge atop a small rise; below them, a chain-link fence was topped with sharp metal stanchions and razor wire.

‘Always amazes me that I’m so close to Ireland here, Jim.’ Callaghan pointed into the distance, across fallow fields and towards the blue sea where in the haze a dark jut of land shimmered.

‘My grandfather was from just across the water,’ said Daley. ‘County Antrim, to be exact. He came to Glasgow in the thirties, just after the Depression.’

‘Well don’t that just beat all. My granddaddy, too. Only when he left County Antrim, he turned the other way and landed in Boston. It’s a small world, Jim.’

‘And now here we are. You in the CIA, or whatever you’re
in, and me a fat, small-town cop, with too much stress, and a complicated personal life.’

‘We can help each other, Jim.’

‘How?’

‘In my country, we like stability. Here, well, things have changed.’

‘Meaning what, the new police force?’

‘That, but more generally too; politically and culturally. You guys on this island have worked hand-in-glove with us almost since we fought to leave you. Now I’m not sure how it’s all going to pan out.’