Walsh relayed the message and Steven slowed the vehicle to walking pace as they neared the base of the aqueduct.
‘Let’s go,’ yelled Mick as he leapt out and others followed with the exception of Walsh who was still in touch with the commandos. ‘Fuck me, are you not there yet?’ Steven heard him say. ‘Bunch of big girls’ blouses.’
Steven was vaguely conscious of an unprintable reply as he brought the Land Rover to a complete halt and got out to look up. There was no sign of the figure they’d seen earlier but he must still be there, he reasoned. There was nowhere else for him to go.
Steven climbed the steep grassy bank leading up to the iron aqueduct and steadied himself on a short section of railing at the top, designed to restrict access to the feeder pipe which emerged from the ground to spew water into the open channel. He looked along the channel expecting to see a man hiding there but saw nothing but fast flowing water.
‘Where the f-’ mouthed Steven, unable to understand where the man could possibly have gone. ‘There’s nowhere… absolutely nowhere…’ he kept reasoning, ‘So how…?’
Steven almost fell over backwards as a figure suddenly emerged like Poseidon from the water about twenty metres along the aqueduct. Instead of a trident, he was holding up a metal flask in his right hand. He had finally run out of air.
Steven gave the man a moment to get his breath and let the water drain away from his face before saying, ‘It’s all over, best give that to me.’ He held out his hand. The man, who had been lying on his back under the surface, was now in a sitting position with the water flowing past him. ‘Something tells me I’m still holding all the aces,’ he said, making a slight movement with the flask in his hand.’
Steven started to move towards him but the man immediately switched the flask to his other hand and stared undoing the cap.
‘For Christ’s sake man!’ said Steven. ‘Have you any idea what you’re about to do?’
The man shook his head. ‘None at all,’ he replied. ‘That’s the way I like it. I’m a soldier. I get my orders. I carry them out. They pay me. That’s all I need to know.’
‘Don’t you care about…?’
‘Don’t waste your breath,’ interrupted the man. ‘I’ve soldiered all over the world. I’ve seen everything one human being can do to another human being. I stopped being interested a long time ago.’
Steven knew he had to stall the man as long as possible so that the commandos would have time to put the divert back on the water supply again but it wasn’t looking hopeful. ‘Even if money is the only thing you’re interested in, surely you’ve already been paid?’ he said.
‘In part. The rest goes into my account for Miriam and the kid when the job gets done.’
‘Look, if it’s a matter of money…’ began Steven.
‘And professional pride,’ said the man, smiling for the first time as he started to get to his feet. ‘You didn’t know mercenaries had pride, did you? Well, we do. To be one in the first place you have to be good and British mercenaries are the best; that’s why we get paid the best. Nice and simple. Nice and honest. No bullshit, no flag-waving, no pretence.’
‘Even if that’s true-’ said Steven. He was interrupted by a shot shattering the silence as the man stood up and became visible over the parapet. A puzzled look appeared briefly on his face before he pitched forward to fall face down into the water. Steven climbed into the aqueduct channel and waded as fast as he could towards the figure before it floated away, his one thought the safe retrieval of the flask. He reached the body and straddled his legs across it while he reached down into the water to feel if the man was still holding the flask. He was but, as Steven suddenly realised in a surge of panic, he was holding it in both hands! He wasn’t completely dead. He was trying to undo the top!
Steven wrenched it from his grasp and brought it to the surface as Mick and two of the others appeared on the gantry and came to help. They pulled the man — who now seemed to be dead out of the water and tipped his body over the edge of the aqueduct to fall to the ground below with a thud.
‘Okay?’ asked Mick as Steven tried to ascertain whether there had been any leakage from the flask. There was no doubt the seal was broken. It was just a question of how far the top could be turned before the sealing gasket ceased to have any effect. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Did the commandos get the divert on in time?’
‘Mick made a gesture with his right hand that indicated it might have been touch and go.
‘Then it’s wait and see time,’ said Steven.
They left the gantry and came slowly back down the grassy slope to the ground.
‘Christ, I could do with a drink,’ said Steven as he felt himself go weak at the knees as the adrenalin left his bloodstream.
‘Looks like we’re done here,’ said Mick. ‘I’ll call in the chopper.’
Steven, dressed in a smart suit and dark tie, stood at the window in his flat, watching the sunlight sparkle on the Thames. It was a sight that usually gladdened his heart but not this morning. He was due at the Home Office in forty-five minutes and he was not looking forward to it. He thought he could see what was coming and he was going to need all the self control he could muster. There was no way that that the establishment could let the whole truth come out so he was reconciled to a cover-up. It was just a question of degree and how much he could stomach before anger got the better of him. A slight smile played on his lips when he remembered what Lisa used to say when she sensed temper getting the better of him. Deep breaths, Dunbar, deep breaths…
Steven found the Home Secretary with Macmillan when he entered Macmillan’s office. Both men seemed relaxed and smiled as he came in.
‘Welcome back,’ said Macmillan.
‘Good to be back,’ replied Steven automatically.
‘I felt I had to come along and congratulate you personally on a job well done,’ said the Home Secretary.
‘Thank you, sir, but we’re not out of the woods just yet,’ replied Steven. ‘There’s still a chance that Glasgow’s water may have been contaminated.’
‘And that’s something we’ve been taking very seriously,’ replied the Home Secretary.
Steven thought how much like a politician he sounded.
‘We’ve been in touch with the Scottish Executive, Glasgow City Council and Scottish Water. They’re putting out a general warning that water taken from Loch Katrine may have been contaminated with faeces from grazing sheep. Steps are being taken to issue bottled water until we’re sure the danger’s past.’
Steven nodded.
‘I take it, you’ll be looking forward to some leave now?’ said Macmillan. ‘God knows, you deserve it.’
‘I was rather hoping you were going to brief me on what’s been happening down here,’ said Steven. He noticed the uneasy glance that passed between Macmillan and the Home Secretary.
‘About Crowe and Mowbray, I mean,’ said Steven, in case there was any doubt.
‘It’s… difficult,’ began Macmillan.
Oh, God, here it comes, thought Steven. He felt his cheek muscles tighten and his fingers start to clench.
‘They know, of course, that the trial of their biological agent has been a complete failure and that they won’t be getting any money from abroad…’
‘But?’
The Home Secretary cleared his throat. Steven thought it a nervous gesture. Macmillan diverted his gaze.
‘Well, to cut a long story short, they’ve offered us a deal,’ said the Home Secretary. ‘They will hand over the antibiotic that can cure their damned agent and also provide technical details of its design and manufacture.’
‘In exchange for getting off scot-free?’ said Steven.