THE ORANGE MOON AFFAIR (34 page)

“Not ideal, but we do have the advantage of surprise. Presumably you can get a bug into the dining room?”

“My man has it in place and will activate it once Radley's men have swept the room. We'll record everything.”

“Straight to YouTube, right,” Julie said dryly. “If only we had a camera.”

Gerry grinned and reaching down to his bergen produced a small box containing a beautiful opal ring and handed it to her. “Milady. There's a micro camera lens in the centre of the leopard opal and a nano transmitter similar to the one Thomas had inserted into his hand, hidden in the setting.”

“Never thought I'd be an American spying on the British.”

“Never thought I'd be British spying on the British.” Gerry echoed her sentiment. “Life gets weird sometimes.”

We spent the rest of the day planning our evening's work. Julie and I changed into our evening clothes. Me into a dinner jacket and black tie, Julie in stunning black evening gown that covered her black cat suit and we were set. I just had two phone calls to make. One to Edwards to meet us in the Golden Lion at ten o'clock tomorrow night, and the other to Professor Oldfield to also meet us there. If we didn't make it then Edwards was to give the letter to Professor Oldfield.

T
he Tower of London
is one
of Britain's oldest surviving Royal Palaces; home to the Yeoman Warders who guard the Tower complex, the Crown Jewels and give tours and lectures to milling tourists, wearing their traditional dress. All are retired Warrant Officers.

The chauffeur dropped us off near Saint Katherine's dock and we walked to the entrance by the Cradle Tower as instructed, where a Yeoman Warder in full uniform waited patiently with two of the security contractors. I hadn't worn a dinner jacket and black tie for a while and felt somewhat overdressed, but felt the thrill of apprehension that always comes with a mission.

“Good evening sir, this way please.” He didn't use my name and the contractors looked a little unsure, but stood aside, appreciating Julie's beauty and not investigating me much at all. As Julie said, she was an asset and surprise was on our side.

I smiled courteously to the stocky bearded Yeoman Warder who stood before us, his eyes direct. He gave me a slight nod, turned and led the way into the Tower complex. The last time I visited the Tower of London had been as a ten year old on a prep school outing. All we wanted to see was the Bloody Tower, Traitors Gate and the site of the executions. At night the Tower exuded more menace than during the day when tourists milled around its walls and towers. But perhaps that was because I knew the true nature of that lay which lay within the small Martin Tower, where a game of wealth and death would be played out.

“Robert Wrightwood,” the Yeoman Warder said quietly, barely moving his lips. “Paul's friend. There are two contractors at the entrance to the Martin Tower, which Paul assures me he will take care of, then you're on your own. All the guests have arrived and the listening device activated.”

“Thank you Robert.”

“Any friend of Paul's...” he let the sentence hang as he led us up the stone stairs to the battlements that led to the entrance of the Martin Tower. Robert stopped in the shadows and pointed along the battlements to the Martin Tower, where two men blended as well as they could into darkness lit only by a small light. We waited for a moment and I hoped Paul's timing was right, and then heard a soft 'plopping' sound from silenced handguns and the two men slumped to the stone battlement.

Julie and I slipped off our evening wear and I noticed she had a thigh holster.

“That come with the outfit?”

She grinned, and while Robert returned to his other duties, we ran quickly along the battlement and slipped inside the Martin Tower. Immediately we could hear voices and the clink of glasses from the small dining room as the ISEC group tucked into their gastronomic feast.

I looked at Julie, gauging whether she was up to this. She stared back at me coolly. Detached. I looked past her and saw a sign pointing to the dining room with the graphic of an Orange Moon over a darkened landscape and beneath the letters I.S.E.C.

Radley stared at us in shock
as we entered the small dining
room, guns drawn. His expression turned to one of intense anger. Of all of all those gathered for dinner, Hamish McDougall seemed the least surprised. The General the Lord Dalton-Percy turned a deathly pale, and I wondered how he had been awarded a Military Cross if the sight of a gun in my hand made him pee himself with fright. I wasn't feeling very charitable.

"Well, Thomas, you seem to have stumbled upon our little organisation. That's a pity, a great pity. You've caused us a great deal of grief over the last few months, but I must admit I thought you were dead for sure when they reported that you had gone over the waterfall." He stood up smiling. “As you can see there is not enough room for you to join us for dinner.”

“Dinner is the last thing on our minds, Hamish.”

“What do you think you are doing, Gunn,” Radley shouted, attempting to stand, sinking back into his seat as Julie pointed her gun in his direction. He was sensible enough to realise the weapon was cocked and her grip steady, aim unerring. “None of this is your concern.” He added much like a petulant child.

“All of it is my concern, and the concern of this country which you seem to think is up for sale to the highest bidder.”

“Not exactly true, Thomas.” Hamish stood back a step, appraising us and wondering where his security team were. “We are in fact the saviours of this country. Of Europe and the Western hemisphere. We are all represented here, as you must now understand.”

“Rather delusional of you, don't you think Hamish?” He smiled even more, an almost maniacal glint in his eye. I looked down the table to a thirty-five year brunette, all uplift bra and carefully applied executive style make-up. “And Miss Tanner, you're fired from the Gunn Group.” She looked down at the tablecloth, her hands shaking in her lap.

"
I
have been the real father to you for more years than you perhaps care to remember, Thomas. Not Ivan. Who was it you turned to after you quarrelled with him? Me. Who took you in when your world fell apart? Me." He paused and snorted contemptuously. "Put the gun down. You won't kill me because you can't. It would be like killing what's left of your family. And besides, you want to know why, don't you? Why I formed this coalition of like minds. Why I created The Order of the Orange Moon? You want to know what it's about, don’t you?" He was right, of course. One side of me was pulling the trigger; the other side was putting the gun down.

So far, it was a stalemate. He turned and pressed a button on the sideboard and a large flat screen plasma TV slid up into view, automatically turning on as it did so.

“I was going to keep this for the cigars and port, but now seems to be as good a time as any for everyone to see the full proposal.” The picture cleared and I could see it was the start of a promotional film, the first frames of which were a map of the world. Over it were dotted many digital flags, all with the symbol of the Orange Moon I had seen on the pot of body butter. The film ran silently showing mineral resources in different countries. Radical Islamic organisations in the Middle East. Zionist activities around the world. Christian evangelicals protesting abortions. Bombings. Riots. Chaos. Then images of a peaceful world. Wealthy. Healthy. Secure and totally unreal. "This is what it is all about. Power. The power to destroy and rebuild. The power to create, to form, to weld together a mass of people. To control the destinies of millions without them ever knowing they are being controlled for the greater good. That's what it's all about, Thomas. Power."

“And I thought you were an intelligent man, Hamish. You stand there like every other madman from Genghis Khan to Hitler, spouting about world domination."

"Power is the key,” Hamish continued as if he hadn't heard a word I said. “People want stability. They want safety. They want security. They want to live their lives as they've always lived their lives. They need people like us to retain the values that made us great nations, to retain our true identity as Britons, or Americans or Germans, or Dutch. People do not want their country given away piecemeal to any culture that decides to take it.” He paused to catch his breath and looked around the table. “These people here want what I can give them. People like your father thought he could control us with his billions, but it is us who controlled him.”

“You mean killed him.”

“I asked him to join us but he was too arrogant. Too full of himself and he threatened to destroy me, so I destroyed him instead, just like I will destroy anyone who opposes me.”

I turned to Radley. “And you're going along with all this are you? Or was it your idea to kill my father?”

“There are matters beyond your comprehension, Gunn.”

“I understand that I am in a room full of lying, murdering, greedy megalomaniacal bastards, which this country would be better off without.”

“Join me Thomas,” Hamish tried to smile but it was a grimace. “Join me. I could use someone like you.”

“That's what Marika Keskküla said just before she tried to blow me into little pieces.”

“An inconsequential woman with little sophistication.”

“Who stopped you from shooting me on the yacht.”

“I was angry.”

“You're probably insane.”

“I just hoped that you might see that what I'm doing is not evil. We can control industries and resources throughout the globe. Have them working in harmony and reach that Eden that we all want.” Hamish's eyes had a far away look and I could the see the others in the room were becoming more agitated as our tête-a-tête continued.

"It's over, Hamish. We recorded everything on audio tape and video."

"Nobody stops me, Thomas. What we are doing is not murder. It is surgery. How can the cancer be eradicated without cutting it out at the root, by cleansing the whole diseased body? People get hurt, that is a fact of life, but out of the ashes a new, cleaner system will be born."

"That's the only thing you've said that makes any sense." Julie stepped forward, staring with hatred and contempt at Hamish McDougall. “You're the cancer that has killed too many people and destroyed lives, so consider yourself cleansed,” she said quietly, and shot him between the eyes.

Everyone in the room froze as Hamish slid to the floor leaving a smear of blood against the ancient stone wall of the Martin Tower dining room. For a moment I was stunned as Julie had fired close to my left ear, but gradually the hearing returned as she lowered her gun and turned to Radley who stood and back against the wall.

“I suggest you have someone take these people out of here, Mr Radley,” she said evenly as we heard the sound of running on the battlement. Three Yeomen Warders, led by Robert Wrightwood, burst into the room.

“Mr Wrightwood please escort these people out,” Radley said stiffly, his eyes never leaving mine.

Robert looked at Hamish McDougall's body, then at me. “It seems that the Tower is a fitting place for traitors to meet their end, Robert,” I said and turned to Radley. “Wouldn't you agree Mr Radley?”

“So it would seem.”

“I take it this was a Secret Service operation sir,” Robert asked Radley.

“It was, Mr Wrightwood. It was.”

Robert smiled slightly and followed the line of dinner guests out of the dining room. We waited until they were all gone, leaving just the three of us, and Hamish’s stiffening corpse.

“That was unnecessary.”

“Was it? Try looking at it as rodent extermination.”

"You are both still liable under the Official Secrets Act. One mention of this business and I'll have you arrested faster than you can spit."

"What are you afraid of, Radley? That someone might get to know that the British Government almost let an insane organisation stage a coup in a foreign country in order to protect them from so-called insurgents. After all, we can't allow all that mineral wealth that has been newly discovered fall into enemy hands, can we?"

His face turned pale as I talked, and I knew I had it right. Hamish had been fed and nurtured, just as I had, and when the time was right we were thrown in and given enough information to keep us going, like salmon swimming up river. The stronger the current, the faster they swim.

"That is rubbish. You come out with a story like that and the British Government will tear you into little pieces. Besides, who would believe you?"

"We have audio and video tape, Mr Radley. We've done your dirty work for you, but just remember this, one threat against my family, or myself and I spread this story around. Some of the muck will stick and I'm betting that you won't last long if it does. I should have realised in the beginning that you were the one controlling everything. The members of ISEC were like schoolchildren playing a naive game compared to you. Well, for me it's over."

"Whatever you may think of me, or as you say ‘people like me’, I have only the best interests of this country at heart. My methods may seem immoral to you, but it is the best way I know of getting the job done. Neither you; your family; friends or the others who helped you tonight will be harassed. You have my word. Just one last thing. Would you have done what you did, if I had told you what was going on?"

There was silence between us whilst I considered the question.

"Probably not. "

"I didn't think so. Neither would I, if I had been in your place.”

I raised my gun and shot off the lobe of his left ear. He reeled away clutching the wound in shock. “That's to remind you of what you did to my family, Mr Radley.”

“You know you can never come back to this country, Mr Gunn,” he gasped.

“That’s not for you to decide. And if I do decide to come back, it will be to finish what I started here tonight. We have the audio and video, and you figure prominently. So I suggest you keep your word.”

“I would have taken McDougall down. Now that I know the full extent of his operation.”

“Maybe you would. Maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you would just use him and these others for whatever nefarious little game of international intrigue you like to play.”