‘He’s worth a fair few million.’
‘Million? Shit. Can you look for linked accounts, offshore, large payments? Anything suspicious?’
‘I’ll run a few traces, see what I can find. By the way, have you phoned Dave?’
‘No, not yet, but he could come in handy.’
‘Dave? Handy? You’ve been working too hard, go and have a lie down.’
‘Think about it, we need somebody to verify Thomas was the tramp. Dave can do that, it’s only Newbury, and he could be there in half an hour.’
‘What, like Fist of Fury? Disguise himself to infiltrate the villain’s lair?’
They both laughed. Sam replied ‘Yeah, something like that.’
‘Worth a shot, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just some old, retired general. Probably been on the port all day.’
Sam considered his options.
‘I don’t think we’ve got a choice, Mick. We need positive Identification. I’ll give him a call and get back to you.’
‘Okay mate, stay safe.’
‘I’m in an office, Mick. In MI5. How much safer can I be?’
Sam ended the call. He pulled his finger back out from between the slats of the blind which then made a metallic scratching sound as they settled back in their original position. Sam sat down once more. He picked up his pen and started spinning it through his fingertips.
His mobile started ringing. He picked it up from the desk, smiling as he read the caller ID, and pressed the Accept button.
‘Hello Dave, how are you?’
Dave responded in his own inimitable style.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you, knob!’ He exclaimed as he answered.
‘It’s this Raynor bloke, Sam, he’s been using the mobile networks. Hacked all the major carriers, hijacked an unused frequency.’
Sam interrupted. ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, mate. Take your time. What’s happened?
Dave regained his composure and started his tale of Raynor’s technical prowess. Sam was stunned. It was obvious that Raynor was technically competent. He was obviously intelligent, but the extent to which he could manipulate technology to suit his own agenda was astounding to Sam.
When Dave finished, Sam was blown away.
‘But you’ve blocked the return signals, right? By locking down this frequency?’
‘Yeah, that’s right. Nothing can get back to his triggering device. We’ve told the other carriers, they’ve all followed suit. The only way around it is to use another frequency, but we’ve locked down his Trojan.’
Sam blew out a loud, long breath.
‘Fucking hell Dave, I think I understand what you’ve said, but please try and use a bit more English.’
Dave laughed heartily.
‘You, Sam Edwards are a technical Philistine.’ He replied.
Sam responded.
‘And you, Dave — Top Gear — Sykes, are a technical masturbator.’
They both laughed, but Sam broke the brief, but welcome, joviality.
‘So there’s no way he can set off another device?’
‘Not easily, mate.’ Confirmed Dave. ‘But I’ll never say never. There’s also a slim chance we’ll be able to track him. I’ve got somebody working on that at the moment. Lucy Green. I’ll give her your number, so she can keep you up to date.
‘Good. Because you, my friend, are, for one night only, and maybe a bit longer if needs be.’
‘Come on Sam, stop being a tosser, spit it out.’
‘Okay, you’re an honorary MI5 field agent.’
Silence. Broken by a sigh. Then Dave’s response.
‘So, you’ve got some shitty little job you need doing, and nobody there who can do it.’
‘Well, when you put it like that.’ Said Sam, the humour evident in his voice.
‘But seriously, Dave, I need you to try and confirm somebody’s identity. Give Mick a call, he’ll bring you up to speed.’
‘Typical.’ Said Dave. ‘Mick’s in the loop, but good old Top Gear gets left out in the cold until an errand boy’s needed.’
‘Yep, you got it Dave. Now stop bitching, phone Mickey, then get your arse to Newbury. Identify the man William Thomas.’
‘And how am I supposed to do that?’
‘You work for a communications company, Dave. Put on a high-viz jacket. Take a company van. Knock on his door and ask if he’s had problems with his phone line. Look at your clipboard, which will have on it a photo Mickey will provide you with. Determine if it’s the same person. Get the fuck out. Simples.’
‘Yeah, okay mate. Can’t be too hard. Can it?’
‘It’s a lot more fun than what Mickey and I are doing, I can tell you that. I’ve got to get in touch with a bloke at Tidworth and let him know that his brigadier might be involved.’
‘Fair enough, Sam, I’ll give Mick a call.’
‘Oh, and Dave?’
‘Yes mate?’
‘Not a single word to anybody.’
‘Okay mate. See ya.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Raynor had just parked his Honda CBR1000 Fireblade motorcycle on the pavement next to Belvedere Road when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He was absently gazing across Jubilee Gardens at the impressive rotating structure that was the London Eye, the world's largest cantilevered observation wheel. Opened in 2000, the wheel was designed by Marks Barfield Architects of London, and has received numerous national and international awards for its outstanding architectural quality.
Shame it has to be sponsored by a bloody soft drinks company. Raynor thought. Won’t be long until Buckingham Palace is sponsored by Sky.
After removing his gloves and helmet he took his phone from his pocket and looked at the notification. Intercepted call between Edwards, Sam and Unknown was displayed. He hit the call button and listened.
He strolled without a care in the world, between the trees, up the wide boulevard adjacent to Jubilee Gardens, and approached the slowly spinning wheel. Turning right, he passed the queuing crowd, along the bank of the Thames.
Not as busy as usual. He thought. Can’t imagine why.
He found a litter bin. Overflowing. Rubbish left haphazardly around it. Fast food containers, drink bottles. Perfect. Raynor dropped a brown paper bag with the rest of the rubbish and continued walking. He waited, watching the massive structure on its slow rotation, until the call he was listening to had ended.
Dave Sykes, you clever bastard.
Raynor made a call.
‘Did they take you in by any chance? Because Five know all about you now.’
Williams paused on the other end.
‘Well yes, but I didn’t tell them anything.’
‘You stupid bastard. Why didn’t you just go home?’
‘I’m a method actor. And anyway, it would have looked a bit suspicious if a tramp got into a first class carriage on a train to Newbury.’
‘Fair point, but you could have hidden somewhere, got changed and got a later train. You told them about my tattoo as well, didn’t you? That’s how they managed to get my identification.
‘Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. What does matter is Saunders.’
Raynor could almost feel the tension over the phone at the mention of the brigadier’s name.
‘What about him?’
‘You hired him didn’t you? When I called you to see if you wanted a bit of fun, to help me, you’d already been on to Saunders to hire me in the first place.’
‘Raynor, I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you I was involved.’
‘So let me get this straight. Your mate, sorry; ex-mate, Fostervold asked you to find somebody who’d be up for this job?’
‘Well, yes. I didn’t know how to get in touch with you.’
‘With respect, sir, that’s bullshit. I managed to find you easily enough.’