The early morning sunshine and the silence welcomed Dillon into its embrace and he groaned internally at the effort of such vigorous exercise and yet he felt the need. The need to work, to be doing something, to feel the exhilaration and power that only came with hard exercise; to feel the trail beneath his running shoes, to feel the burn of lactic acid, the strain of muscles, the tearing of strained lungs…
Soon, with leg muscles burning, he turned in-land and headed up a hill towards woodland. He crested the first rise and entered the woods. Frozen gorse crackled and snapped under each heavy footfall as he pushed himself to the limit and five minutes later he cleared the woods and was heading up to a rocky out-crop that offered a spectacular view across the valley right back to the modest size castle he now called home.
The distant engine noise indicated a large vehicle. It could just be passing by but Dillon had a bad feeling about it as no one ever came in his direction unless invited. Ever since the events in Cornwall only hours before and the low flying race back home to Scotland… The pursuit had ended without event but Dillon still felt drained after those bloody unexpected events at Kirill’s country residence
The powerful diesel engine changed pitch. Dillon ran back down through the woods, staying just back from the tree line as he heard the vehicle turn up towards his property. He reached the rise just in front of the imposing building and gazed down at the battered Mercedes van, pumping diesel fumes from an engine that had run its last mile.
A Mercedes van? It had to be…
Alix and Lola, Dillon smiled.
He ran down towards the main gate and, ever careful, paused to watch the van pulling up outside the front doors of the castle and the visitors disembark. Alix and Lola stepped down from the Mercedes, both grumbling and stretching after the obvious effects of a long journey. Dillon stayed where he was for a moment longer — nobody following — then jogged slowly up the drive to greet his two old friends whom he had served with during his army intelligence days.
“Dillon!” Yelled Alix, and embraced the sweating man. They clasped hands, patting one another on the back. Lola smiled warmly. “I hope you’ve got whisky, Dillon? Lots of it…”
“You Lola, have a wicked mind, and at this time of the morning. I still haven’t forgotten the last time the three of us started on the whisky!”
“It wasn’t my fault Alix got thrown into the Thames! And it’s never too early for a wee dram…”
“Lola, it was you who threw him in the river!”
“It was nothing, just a little fooling around! It’s great to see you again, Jake.”
“Come on in”, said Dillon smiling. “I’m just about ready for a cooked breakfast, if I can entice two of my oldest friends to join me?”
“I’m up for some of that.” Alixsaid, as he followed Dillon inside.
“And me,” Lola called as she stepped down from the back of the van with a holdall full of weapons.
“It must be two or three years since we all got together. And with so many holes in that van. I assume there is a reason?” Dillon’s eyes were hooded, his mouth a grim line. Recent events having removed much of his humour, and this unannounced visit felt somehow ominous.
“I’m afraid there is,” said Alix softly. He lit a cigar, rested his head back and rubbed at tired eyes. “Something bad is going down, old buddy. Have you logged on with the Ferran & Cardini server recently? Checked out the encrypted fodder on your adventures down in Cornwall?”
Dillon shook his head. “No, not since I got back, I’m not really interested to be honest.”
“Something just doesn’t add up, Jake. Scorpion HQ has no answers as to how the security was breached at the facility in Cornwall and how the SAS and MI5 protection squads were eliminated with such ease. And Kirill — our friendly Government computer nerd and creator of the all-powerful new programme — has disappeared and is presumed dead. They pulled the char-grilled corpse of his niece — along with the bodies of allthe guests from the party — from the burnt out ruins of his mansion once the fire service had managed to get the blaze under control. But mysteriously, no sign of professor Kirill. Strange that, considering you put a bullet in the fucker? I’m finding it just a little disconcerting that no one is able to answer the simple question of what the hell is going on — after all, their surveillance and technology budgets must exceed all the others put together.”
Dillon shrugged. “Have you thought — just for a moment — that they might not know what is going on? After all, it might not be so bizarre to think, that what happened to me and from what you’re saying has happened to you — may have something to do with someone trying to obtain or destroy Kirill’s new software programme? After all Kirill seems to be the common denominator here.”
“You’re dead right, Jake,” Alix said tucking into a plate of eggs and bacon. “Go on, Lola, tell him about the other Scorpion units.”
Lola sighed, and took a swig of her whisky, and Dillon caught the resignation in the young woman. Strange, for sure, because they had survived some of the worst and most dangerous hot-spots on the planet together as serving officers in army intelligence. They had infiltrated terrorist networks throughout Europe, assisted humanitarian relief agencies in the most devastated areas of Africa and South America, and partied from dusk to dawn in a few dubious bars and clubs from London to Cuba.
Lola’s face was stern. “Scorpion 7, was wiped out while they were on a babysitting assignment in the Carpathian Mountains in the Ukraine.”
“I know,” said Dillon softly. “But these things can happen. Anyone involved in this kind of work — knows fully well that it could happen to them. Good men and women die. Life’s a bitch, yeah?”
“Yes, but what is even worse is that Scorpion HQ has not said one word about it. I found out from a friend of mine. A former Russian special forces sergeant who is now working inside the Kremlin for their equivalent of the cyber monitoring and crime squad. He came across the report on a Russian news agency website and called me. So, Alix and I set out to find out a few things, keep a few tabs on several other Scorpion units, including members of Scorpion HQ. Two more units are missing, 3 and 4.”
“The Sniper unit and the Southern Asia close protection unit. God, all those good men?”
“Hmmm,” nodded Alix, filling the room with cigar smoke.
“Coincidence or just very bad luck? I thought to myself. Then we get this real bad gig in London. You know the sort, Dillon. One of those jobs that you just wish you hadn’t been given. But you still sign the insurance waiver form and pledge your allegiance to the Crown for ever and after eternity. And guess what…”
“Smoke and mirrors — a set-up?”
“Too bloody right.” Alix finished his cigar, and immediately lit another. “They were waiting for us. I went in on foot to check ahead; there were five of them, almost got me and all. Very professionaclass="underline" well-armed, eastern European and as hard as fuck, intelligent, quick thinking, moved like greased lightening.”
“And you also think that I was deliberately set-up?” Said Dillon softly.
“Certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?”
Dillon pulled gently on one of his earlobes, and accepted a cigarette from Lola. “It’s funny… I had a phone call from Tatiana earlier this morning. She’s on her way up here. She sounded a little freaked out.”