“Strange though, isn’t it? Why leave it behind, even if the aircraft had been evacuated in haste? Lola said softly.
“Obviously, whoever left this case behind, will be coming back for it?” Alix said.
“I don’t think so, Alix. Firstly, Anthrax- simply doesn’t fit in with anything that’s occurred so far, and secondly you can’t just sell three flasks of Anthrax on the open market without the right contacts. But, that still doesn’t explain what this Chinook is doing here on a cold and windy beach in Norfolk? And, it doesn’t explain where all the other helicopters, that left that mountain in Scotland, are now? This is all wrong. This is all very wrong…” Said the Priest, as he rapidly tapped out a message on his smart-phone, and then pushed send. “Suppose the Chinooks were all carrying a case like this one. Wouldn’t they surely have all had a different final destination?” Lola said.
“That’s a possibility, but still doesn’t explain what this one is doing here. They abandoned their base in Scotland.” Said the Priest calmly, adding. “We know that Kirill was left behind to set the explosives, and paid for that with his life. So what if he had become expendable and his Chimera virus programme is merely a side-show. Which leaves the Anthrax as the main performance?”
The Priest’s smart-phone pinged once. He glanced at the screen and then looked up at the others. “This message is from the dutyofficer at Ferran & Cardini. Intelligence reports from MI5 indicate that eight Chinooks, have now been located, abandoned, by the RAF at a disused military airfield not more than ten miles from here, which including this one, leaves only one out of the ten that took off from Scotland unaccounted for.”
“Abandoned? Is there anything of interest on-board?” Alix asked.
“Automatic weapons, small and large calibre, and each
Chinook was full to capacity with everything from 9mm to 12.5mm.
Disturbingly, these larger calibre rounds are for a type of gun that delivers an awesome punch, have to be tripod mounted and can kill at a range of up to three miles. And before you ask, the security services found nothing else on board. They even had trained dogs over them and found nothing.”
“Which surely means that the Anthrax had already been taken off of the aircraft before the security services got to them, or that it possibly was never there in the first place?” Alix said.
The Priest’s smart-phone pinged again, as another message appeared.
“What does it say?” Lola asked impatiently.
The Priest held his hand up, palm forward, to hush her. He read the detailed message, looked up at them both and said. “The security service has found maps and charts; most were of the North Sea and the Baltic Sea.”
“That’s a lot of fucking sea,” said Alix.
The Priest nodded. “Yes, I agree, but there is a glimmer of hope.
Did you notice those large drums of fuel in the landing bay at Kirill’s facility? Well, there were markings down the side of them. They were inscribed with the supplier’s trademark: Tallin Oil & Chemical Co.” “Russian?”
“Estonian actually. The Tallin Oil & Chemical Co. operates out of its name-sake, Tallin. It’s licensed to carry out exploration in the
Baltic Sea and northwards, right up to the Arctic Ocean. The British
Government has had them under surveillance for the past year using spy satellites as and when they’re over that region, together with field agents on the ground. “
“Well, at least it gives us a lead to start with,” said Alix. “The MI6 field officers already on the ground in Estonia have indicated that this is definitely the strongest lead to date. I’ll message the partners to have our own field officers on standby.”
Alix nodded, enjoying his cigarette. “I have an idea. If you are right about the Anthrax being the main threat, then we will need to bring together some pretty elaborate technology. Very impressive technology. That we can coordinate from the cockpit of the Apache. It has the capability and the on-board technology, from which to launch an offensive. And it’ll only take the smallest of modifications.
You can locate the enemy and pinpoint their exact position; and I…” “And you Alix. What have you dreamed up for yourself this time?”
Alix grinned.
“…and I need to go see a friend of mine who lives close by. He’s the only person I know who can hack into the computer systems of some people I want to take a closer look at.”
“I’m really very sorry, Dillon,” said Ezra. “Really sorry.”
Dillon grinned nastily, the large wine glass in his hand, the Glock reassuringly pressing into the small of his back under the waistband.
Foolish, foolish man, he thought. Lowering his guard was amateurish and naive…
Foolish.
“So this Ramus character got to you, Ezra?”
Ezra shook his head sadly. “It’s a lot more complicated than that, Mr Dillon. More complicated than you could ever comprehend, believe me. Now, I understand that you are carrying the optical disc with the Chimera blueprints on. I want it, please. It does belong to us, and should have been destroyed along with Kirill when he blew-up that mountain in Scotland. Had the imbecile done the job properly, you would have gone up with it.”
Dillon allowed himself to frown.
“Answer me this one thing. You know when you were standing on the cliff top in Santorini, having been chased half way across the island by those fourAssassins. They had you trapped with your back against nothing more than fresh air. What went through you mind?”
Ezra nodded; but it was there. A momentary flash across his face. A moment of…
Perplexity.
“You mean… Which one of the four should I have taken out first?”
Dillon nodded. “Ezra, tell me this. If all four Assassins were armed, why didn’t they simply shoot you? Why the elaborate escape, eh?”
“I have no time for this, Dillon. Now give me that damned disc.”
“Very sloppy, because there were only two Assassins. Which means that you’re not Ezra?”
Ezra smiled then, a calm and collected smile. “Damn, Dillon. You are good and youare right. So what?” He carefully peeled off the latex face mask and then the prosthetic nose and ears. “Ezra’s death was extremely inconvenient, his heart had stopped before he hit the rocks, his head being split open like a fat, ripe melon, just to make doubly certain of it. Of course, he wasn’t meant to die, but his weight was too much for that Chameleon Para-vest. It simply collapsed as he pulled the cord. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Dillon.”
“Well, you’re right there. But what does it matter, you’re going to kill me anyway.”
“My instructions are not to kill you, or even harm a hair on your head; there are certain people who would like a little… shall we say chat. But first you must hand over the optical disc that you are holding in your hand.”
Dillon saw the man’s finger tighten a little on the trigger. Impatience and anger starting to show on his face as he looked intensely at Dillon…
Dillon smiled.
He uncurled his right hand to reveal the small metallic sphere.
“Surprise, surprise,” said Dillon dryly.
Dillon threw the sphere and saw the man’s eyes suddenly widen, his mouth open in a silent curse!
Reflexes kicked in; there was no thought process required. The large man reached out in an attempt to catch the sphere.
His gun muzzle twitched.
Dillon’s Glock was in his left hand and he was firing even as he dived for the bedroom. He rolled across the polished marble floor as the Glock’s bullets tore into the wall and then the large picture window, with a crash of exploding glass…