Meltdown (2 page)

Canada

'Get to the ERV!'

Danny knew enough about SOPs by now to
follow his grandfather's order without argument.

He didn't wait to collect anything; everything he
would need for the next few hours and, if necessary,
the next few days was hidden at the ERV.

He slipped noiselessly away from the wooden
cabin by the edge of the vast dark lake and disappeared
into the towering trees. The ERV was a
kilometre into the forest and Danny's first objective
was to get there and wait. For six hours. After that,
if his grandfather, Fergus, didn't turn up, there were
other plans to put into action. But that was for later.

Inside the cabin, Fergus peered through an open but
shuttered window at the mud track, which rose
gradually for 150 metres. At the top of the incline sat
a stationary black 4x4.

Fergus had already taken the hunting rifle with a
telescopic sight off the wall bracket above the
fireplace and then lifted the bolt before gently
pulling it back to reveal the shiny brass of a round
already in the chamber. He pushed the bolt home
and didn't bother to apply the safety catch.

He took aim through the shutters and focused on
the 4x4. The powerful sight easily picked out the
features of the person behind the wheel, a face that
Fergus instantly recognized.

He was surprised; he hadn't expected them to
come like this. He had anticipated a sudden hit by a
full team. But he was calm as he calculated all the
possibilities: his years in the Regiment and his later
work as a 'K' meant he was always ready for any
eventuality.

He placed the cross-hairs dead centre on the face.
It would be a simple shot, as easy as a fairground
shooting gallery.

Danny reached the ERV and got straight to work
without even pausing for breath.

He had no official military or intelligence service
training, yet he operated like a professional – but
then he'd had a good teacher, the best. And Danny
had learned quickly. He'd had to in order to stay
alive.

Now it seemed as if their lives were in danger
again, but like his grandfather, Danny had learned
not to panic in a crisis.

They'd chosen the spot for the ERV because of the
good line of sight in every direction and because
the huge fallen tree made a perfect marker. Close
to the massive trunk lay a chunk of flat grey stone.
Rocks like this dotted the landscape so it looked
perfectly natural.

Danny shifted the stone to one side and cleared
away the leaf litter. He used his hands to dig into
the soil beneath and soon unearthed two black
plastic bags just below the surface. Inside each bag
was a day sack packed with tinned food, bottled
water, fresh clothes and a wad of cash.

Quickly and methodically, Danny removed the
day sacks from the protective bags and checked
the contents, keeping a watch all the time for anyone
who might be approaching through the forest.

But no one came near. The only sounds were birdsong
and the light breeze that shivered through the
treetops. Danny refilled the hole he had dug and
replaced the leaf litter and the flat stone. When he
and Fergus left, there would be no sign of them ever
having been there.

Danny stood up and checked the area where he
had worked. It was just as it had been when he'd
arrived. His grandfather would be pleased,
if
he
ever reached the ERV. They had often discussed
their contingency escape plans, and even though
Danny wasn't panicking, he was worried.

All he could do now was wait. If his grandfather
hadn't shown up when the six hours were up, he
was on his own. But he wasn't thinking about that,
not yet.

He sat down with his back to the tree trunk and
peered out through the trees in the direction he had
come from. Nothing. No one. He glanced upwards:
the sky was as grey and cold as the rocks that lay all
around.

For all he knew he might never see his grandfather
again. He might already be dead. They had
known each other for little more than a year, but in
that year so much had happened. They'd spent
much of it on the run, battling to clear Fergus of the
false accusations levelled against him.

Now they were on the run again. Things hadn't
gone well between Danny and Fergus in the four
months since their escape from New York. They'd
become almost like strangers again.

Danny sighed. 'He's always making me run away.
Like I'm still a kid, like he still doesn't trust me. I
could have stayed and helped him.'

He stared through the trees again, knowing in his
heart that his grandfather had been protecting him.
Fergus couldn't run any more; two gunshot wounds
in the same leg meant that swift movement was
impossible, whereas Danny was an experienced
cross-country runner. Fergus had stood his ground
to fight so that his grandson could escape.

Danny sighed again. 'He's probably gone and got
himself killed.'

Fergus had almost smiled as he watched the small,
elderly man step from the 4x4 and begin buttoning
up his overcoat.

He knew the procedure. Through the rifle's telescopic
sight, Fergus watched him raise both arms on
either side of his body to signal that he was about to
approach. And as he started walking down the long
track, Fergus covered every step.

Although the little man appeared harmless and
seemed to be alone, Fergus was too seasoned a campaigner
to take anything for granted. He watched
and waited, his finger resting on the trigger of the
hunting rifle.

Far down the track, the man's first few steps were
hesitant, but as he got closer he seemed to grow in
confidence. He couldn't see Fergus or Danny, but he
knew perfectly well that, somewhere, a weapon
was being aimed at his head. And as he neared the
cabin, he became increasingly certain that Fergus
was going to let him speak, rather than dropping
him before he got the chance to open his mouth.

Fifteen metres from the cabin he stopped. He
spoke loudly and clearly, still with both arms
outstretched.

'Good morning, Mr Watts. You have my word
that I'm completely alone, and unarmed. I'd be
most grateful if you would permit me to lower my
arms and join you in the, er . . . cabin.'

There was no reply.

He sighed. 'I'm too old for all this, Mr Watts. I just
want to talk. That's all.'

Danny checked his watch. He'd been at the ERV for
nearly two hours and there was still no sign of his
grandfather.

As the minutes passed, he grew more and more
worried and started thinking about going off his
grandfather's precious SOPs by carefully working
his way back towards the cabin to see for himself
what was going on.

Fergus would be furious, but Danny was used to
that. Since they'd made it to Canada there had been
moments of anger and long silences, with neither of
them capable putting right what had gone wrong.
Danny's thoughts turned to Elena. She'd been his
best friend, his closest confidante, and much more
than that: he'd loved her. He still did. He knew it
more every day. And he missed her.

He was thinking about the way they had talked
and laughed and planned their futures when he
suddenly heard the slight crack of a twig breaking.

He looked up. It was his grandfather.

Fergus saw the look of relief on his grandson's
face. He smiled. 'What have I told you about staying
alert at all times? You should have pinged me
several minutes ago.'

Danny managed a slight smile of his own. 'I
was . . . thinking.'

'Yeah,' said Fergus, nodding. 'It seems we've got
a bit more thinking to do.'

Danny stood up. 'Who was it – in the four by
four?'

'Dudley.' He saw his grandson's surprised stare.
'You'd better come and hear what he's got to say.'

Dudley was one of the top men in MI5. He
had been behind Operation Black Star, which had
ended so calamitously in New York with the
death of Elena. And he had been in ultimate charge
of the earlier plan to eliminate both Fergus and
Danny. It was not surprising that they were wary
of him.

He had come up with the new plan for Operation
Meltdown. It was daring and risky, but Dudley
didn't care about that. Not any more.
They
had
talked him into delaying his retirement;
they
would
have to go along with his unorthodox methods. He
had been looking forward to retirement, but the
sense of being needed and the heavy hint at a
possible knighthood if the vital operation was
successful were ample compensation for the delay.

Dudley knew little about designer drugs, but
when the think-tank report labelled Meltdown the
most dangerous concoction ever to have come out
of an illegal laboratory, he reasoned that drastic
measures were required. Thousands, possibly
hundreds of thousands, of lives were at risk, and
there was the added dire warning of the
Meltdown formula falling into the hands of terrorist
organizations.

Operation Meltdown would be a complex,
dangerous and dirty operation, and Dudley had
decided that the person he wanted to lead his task
force was Fergus Watts.

Dudley slowly stirred a steaming mug of thick
black coffee. He looked tired; the flight from the UK
and the long drive had taken their toll. He sipped at
the coffee and felt the surge of caffeine.

Having given Danny the broad details of the
growing Meltdown crisis and told him about his
proposed special task force, Dudley had suddenly
seemed very tired. He'd unbuttoned the overcoat he
always wore and asked for a coffee.

While Fergus made the brew, Dudley glanced at
Danny, who was turning over in his mind everything
that had been said. Whatever decisions were
made, Fergus wouldn't make them alone.

'Why us?' said Danny.

'Firstly, because of your grandfather's vast
experience in combating drugs traffickers. FARC in
Colombia, the IRA drug runners in Northern
Ireland. He's been inside those organizations; he
knows how they operate. That knowledge will be
invaluable.'

Danny shrugged; it wasn't enough to have
brought Dudley all the way from his comfortable
office in London.

'And then there are the people we're targeting,'
Dudley added quickly. 'They're vain and arrogant.
They enjoy the champagne lifestyle and they like to
mix with the famous or even the infamous. They
will undoubtedly be drawn to high-profile
characters like yourselves once their own problems
begin.'

'High profile?' asked Danny. 'Us?'

'Oh, you will be,' said Dudley, reaching into an
inside pocket of his overcoat. He pulled out a folded
sheet of paper, opened it and placed it on the table
for Danny to read. It was a mock-up of a newspaper
headline.

TRAITOR REVEALED
AS SECRET HERO

'That's one of my own,' said Dudley, shrugging
modestly. The hot coffee had had a reviving effect.
'But I'm sure my experts will come up with even
more tantalizing headlines, as well as the stories to
go with them.'

Danny looked over at his grandfather. 'I don't
get it.'

'Let him explain,' answered Fergus quietly.

Dudley swiftly outlined his plan. 'Your grandfather
has a history. I want to use that history to
draw in our targets.'

'But why? Why not use one of your own men?'

'Because there isn't time, Danny. The Meltdown
crisis is spiralling out of control. There's no time to
create a believable legend for some non-existent
hero. Your grandfather's story is all there on the
record, in black and white.'

Danny listened as Dudley explained that he was
already preparing a carefully orchestrated press
campaign. A deliberately leaked MI5 report would
reveal that Fergus had played a massive part in
halting a worldwide teenage suicide bombing
campaign, after being secretly recruited for
Operation Black Star.

He would be acclaimed as a national hero and, as
a result, the government would have no option but
to publicly 'pardon' him for his previous crimes
against the country. Fergus had long been accused
of being a traitor, of selling out to the FARC drug
barons in Colombia when he was meant to be working
towards their destruction. They all knew it was
a false accusation, but it would remain on the
record.

'But he's innocent,' said Danny quickly. 'You
know that. We proved it before the Black Star
operation.'

Dudley nodded indulgently. 'Of course I know it.
But we want our targets to think exactly the
opposite. We want them to think that he's guilty;
that he's corrupt, perfectly willing to enter into a
shady deal if the money is right. That's what will
make him attractive to them.'

'But why should—?'

'Let me finish, please?' said Dudley, holding
up his hands. 'We'll make it absolutely clear that
while we're grateful for everything your grandfather
has done, he can never again be employed
by any government organization. That's important.'

He sat back, looking pleased with his plan. He
raised his eyebrows, inviting Danny's questions.

'These targets you keep talking about, who are
they?'

The elderly man shook his head. 'I'm afraid that
information must remain classified until I know
that you're in.'

Danny pushed away his chair and stood up. 'I've
had enough of all this classified shit.' He glared at
his grandfather. 'And operational secrets.' He
started to walk towards the door.

'Wait, Danny!' said Fergus. As Danny stopped by
the door, Fergus fixed his eyes on Dudley. 'The
targets? Who are they?'

Dudley sighed. 'They're young brothers – twins
by the name of Headingham.'

'So, if you've got a name, why don't you just go in
and bust them?'

'Because it's not the right way, I'm certain of that
now. There are no new clues to the location of the
DMP – we had a task force go into a warehouse we
suspected was manufacturing drugs, but it was
absolutely empty; we don't understand where and
how they're making Meltdown. And the distribution
network is also a complete mystery. I'm
absolutely sure there's at least one much bigger fish
somewhere in Europe who we need to identify
and net. I'm convinced that the only way to get
everything we want is by infiltrating the twins' setup.
But it must be done quickly.'

Danny was still by the door. He leaned back
against the wall.
'We?'
He nodded towards his
grandfather but continued speaking to Dudley.
'I can see why you want him, but where do I
fit in?'

Fergus answered the question before Dudley
could reply. 'We're a team, Danny. I'm not going
anywhere without you.'

'We'll mention in the newspaper reports that you
also played an important part in Operation Black
Star,' said Dudley quickly. 'You could be very
useful.'

Danny laughed cynically. 'Useful? What you
really mean is, if you want my granddad, you have
to take me too. Yeah, that's really useful. And there's
something else you haven't mentioned,
isn't there?'

Dudley knew what was coming but he waited for
Danny to continue.

'What about Deveraux? Is she part of this?'

Dudley sighed. 'You know, I really am truly sorry
about your friend, Miss—'

'Yeah, right,' snapped Danny. He didn't want to
discuss Elena with Dudley. After all,
he
had played
his part in her death, even if he hadn't pulled the
trigger. 'Deveraux . . . is she part of it?'

'Not at all. Miss Deveraux is no longer with the
Security Service.'

'So where is she?'

'I think she was expecting to take over my
job. When that didn't happen, she returned to the
Secret Intelligence Service, concentrating on
overseas operations rather than our problems at
home. I'm told she's doing extremely well. This is
my
initiative, and if you take the job, you'll be
working directly under my control. When it's over,
if you want to, you can walk away, your names
finally and completely cleared. You'll be free to do
whatever you want and go wherever you want to
go. No more looking over your shoulder to see who
might be following.'

Fergus put down the coffee mug he had been
nursing and looked at Dudley. 'Danny and me need
to have a few words alone.' He nodded towards the
coffee pot that was still bubbling on the stove. 'Help
yourself.'

It was cold outside the cabin and the shadows were
already beginning to lengthen. They walked
towards the lake and Fergus said nothing until they
were well out of earshot of the cabin.

'It gives us a chance, Danny. To get this done and
then make a new start.'

'Because we're a
team?'
said Danny sarcastically,
echoing the words his grandfather had used
in the cabin. 'Well, that's what I thought until
you let me and Elena down in New York. If
you'd told us you knew that Deveraux had killed
Elena's dad, then Elena would never have been
there. We'd have got out, and Elena would still be
alive.'

'All right!'
said Fergus angrily. 'I did what I
thought was right at the time! Op sec! That's the
way it works. And if you can't get that into your
head, then you might as well get a job stacking
shelves in a supermarket.'

Danny was ready to fight back as his own anger
boiled over. 'Yeah, well maybe that'd be better than
being stuck here with you! I'm only here because of
you! Doing nothing. Walking up and down this
poxy lake until I know every rock and every
tree!'

He picked up a stone and hurled it as hard as he
could, far out into the lake. They saw the splash as
it landed and the ripples that went spilling out in
every direction.

'So this is a way out of here,' Fergus suggested
mildly. 'Let's do it.'

Danny kept his eyes on the water as he spoke
again, more quietly now. 'Why should we trust
Dudley, after everything that's happened before?'

'Because he's here. Once they found out where we
were, they could have taken us, Danny; sent a full
team to eliminate us. Dudley's here because he
needs us.'

'He needs
you,'
said Danny, turning to look at his
grandfather. 'I'm not important.'

'You are to me.' Fergus looked closely at his
grandson. 'We have to move on, Danny. It's no good
living in the past. Like Dudley said, we do this job
and then get out.'

'And what about Deveraux? Do you really believe
she's out of the picture?'

Fergus nodded. 'I don't think even Dudley would
ever consider putting us back together with
Deveraux.'

When they went back into the cabin, Dudley was
still sitting exactly where they'd left him, staring
morosely into an empty coffee mug.

They sat at the table and Fergus got straight down
to business. 'So after all this "hero" stuff in the
newspapers, what then?'

Dudley nodded and then smiled. 'We reveal, in a
follow-up story, that you are setting up your own
independent security consultancy. That will most
certainly attract the twins' interest when phase two
of the operation begins.'

Before they went into the details of the operation,
Fergus wanted to get a couple more things straight.
'I choose the rest of the team.'

It was nothing less than Dudley had expected.
'Agreed.'

'And Danny's not ready. He's never worked in a
team. He needs a build-up.'

Dudley stood up and brushed down his overcoat.
'We have little time; the Meltdown crisis is like a
ticking time bomb. Ten days maximum, but I need
you
on the ground as soon as possible.'

Fergus looked at his grandson, and when he
spoke, there was a hint of pride in his voice.
'Danny's a quick learner.'