It was hard to believe that only the previous day he could have lost his life in his own home. He put the kettle on and walked down the hall to his study. He felt nervous. Wasn’t sure he wanted to go into the room where an attempt was made on his life. He pushed the door and looked in. His office chair had been pushed back under his desk, but it was obvious his desk had been moved. His laptop was gone. Probably bagged for evidence. He looked at the hole in the wall where the bullet had been lodged. That was meant for me.
He felt a sudden sadness. This house, this home that he and his family loved so much, would never feel the same again. He could have died in this room, somebody had died in his garden, by his hands.
Come on Sam, get a grip. You did what you had to do. It was him or you. Have a coffee. Everything seems better after a coffee.
He left the office and closed the door, then made his way back to the kitchen. He grabbed a mug from the cupboard, unscrewed the lid from a jar of instant and poured a good measure into his mug. A splash of milk, one sugar, give it a stir and add hot water. Just how he liked it.
His gaze returned to the garden as he wondered what he would tell Julia about the events of the previous night. Jayshree was adamant that it would be kept out of the press, but they always find a way to the juicy stories. There would be a leak somewhere, most probably a local police officer offered a tasty backhander.
We’ll have to move. Jules won’t want to stay here now.
He was suddenly pulled out of his self-pity when a muffled ringtone came to his ears.
Shit, where did I leave that?
He followed the sound back down the hallway, back into his study. It was Mickey.
‘Morning mate, I tried getting hold of you last night, but you weren’t answering.’
‘Yeah, sorry mate, was a bit tied up.’
He left the office once more and strode back to the kitchen where he grabbed his mug of coffee. He stood by the small table in the dining area at the end of the kitchen, resting his free hand on the back of a chair, the chair he’d tried to use as a weapon only hours earlier.
Had Julia and Jack been here, on a normal morning, they would have all enjoyed a Full English, sat around the large dining table in the adjacent room. Laughter, good times. The dining room patio doors open, the fresh air and warmth of an English summer morning coming in to add to the cheer. But that big old dining room felt so empty when it was just him. Mickey interrupted Sam’s thoughts.
‘Oh yeah? When the cat’s away and all that?
‘Don’t be stupid, Mick. I know I can rely on Dave for shit like that, but never expected it from you.’
Mickey took offence at his friend’s tone.
‘Sorry mate, what’s wrong with you? Too many shandies? Another hangover? Jayshree Virani will not be happy with you.’
‘Mick, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, which I will, in good time. So, will you drop it now, and tell me why you’re phoning?’
Sam sat down and stared out into his garden. His gaze alternating between his summer house, and the grass outside where a man had died.
Mickey said. ‘I got in, didn’t I?’
‘What, that new club in Basingstoke?’ Asked Sam.
‘No, fool, the other one, the one you asked me to get into last night.’
It suddenly dawned on Sam what Mickey was on about.
‘Oh, yeah, right. Any good?’
‘I think you need to come round to mine mate, I’ve got too much to tell you over the phone, but I will tell you this, the Sierra, Charlie, Uniform club has some very nasty members.’
‘Right, I’ll be over in half an hour, see you in a bit.’
‘Okay mate, see ya.’
Raynor disconnected from the call.
I wonder what they’ve got?
He wasn’t in touch with anybody from the unit. Didn’t even know if any of them were alive. That was one of the rules he’d accepted without question. But he felt the need to alert someone. But who?
We know all about you. Your past. That’s why we chose you for the job.
A memory of his recent phone conversation. They want out, but they also know of his past.
I need to find out who’s behind this.
He got his laptop from its bag and booted it up. Once it had booted, he connected his mobile to it via a USB cable, he then ran an app on his phone, then opened a dialler app on the laptop. He clicked redial. The laptop beeped out the noise of the initial number. It was a dummy, registered to an anonymous corporation. A server at that location redirected it through several more servers across the globe, where varying levels of encryption were added, removed or verified. Eventually, a ring tone trilled out of the laptop speakers. One ring, two, a third.
Come on, pick up. You never let it ring past three.
Four, five, six rings, then a voice. The same distorted, robotic voice.
‘I thought our business had concluded.’ Said the voice.
‘Well, that’s your opinion, and you’re very much entitled to it, but that aside, I need you to know that if you know of my past, and were part of it, then there’s been a major breach.’
A pause at the other end of the line. Raynor’s fingers tapped frantically on the command line. A window appeared, streaming a list of numbers up the screen. It was like a scene from The Matrix. Raynor kept typing, staring at the stream, looking for something.
‘What do they know? Exactly?’
Raynor said. ‘Now that’s the big question, isn’t it? I can tell you they know of SCU8. One of Edward’s hacker mates managed to get into the MOD servers.’
‘Shit. What else?’
A new window opened on Raynor’s laptop. He hit a few more keys and a progress bar appeared with the text ‘Uploading…’ beneath it. Unlike how they’re depicted on television, most viruses, Trojan horses or worms are tiny bits of code that will upload to a server in milliseconds, but due the vast number of worldwide communications networks this tiny packet had to navigate, it would be at least five seconds before it found its target. In computing terms, that was a lifetime.
Raynor watched the progress bar. Soon he’d know the source of the call, and from it he’d be able to trace all incoming and outgoing calls made or received by that phone.
‘I don’t know what else.’ He replied as the text changed to ‘Upload Complete.’ He tapped more keys and a new window appeared, the window title ‘Active Trace — Running Trace’. Raynor smiled.
‘Just thought I’d better let you know. I was listening in on a call, just minutes ago.’
‘Whoa, hang on, minutes ago?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Well that’s not possible, unless…’
The penny dropped with Raynor. He smiled. Chuckling, he answered the question that hung in the air.
‘Oh dear, looks like you underestimated your target. Has your wet-man not called in yet? I’m sure he’s fine.’
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ll be in touch. I have to make another call.’ The line went dead.
That’s just what I was hoping you were going to say. Thought Raynor as he laughed at his former-employers predicament.
‘Yes, I’ve just spoken to him.’
‘And he told you Edwards was alive?’
‘Said he’d spoken to the man barely minutes before calling me. Said Edwards has found out about SCU8. If he knows about the unit, it’s only a question of time before he gets all the names he needs.’
‘And you haven’t heard from your man? Are you sure he made an attempt last night?’