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Authors: Jeffrey Fleming

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BOOK: The Gilgamesh Conspiracy
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The restaurant Dan chose was busy so they sat down on barstools with a beer each while waiting for a table.

‘Sorry we’re having to wait, but this is a good place,’ he apologised.

‘No problem,’ Gerry replied, wondering how she would steer their conversation in the direction she wanted.

‘I’ve sort of known you for years now Gerry but this is the first time I’ve seen you alone since that unfortunate conversation in the hotel in Fujairah.’

She nodded, remembering his anger. She had returned to her room with a surprisingly guilty conscience and as a result of her distraction she had been stabbed.

‘You haven’t changed much,’ he continued as she seemed at a loss for words. Then he added ‘I’m sorry about your fiancé. Vince told me he died in a road accident while on duty.’

This was not the conversation Gerry wanted. ‘Look Dan, I didn’t come out here to discuss my personal life with you!’ she snapped. He looked somewhat mortified. Gerry cursed herself for an idiot. If she wanted to pump him for information then she should stop sounding so bad tempered. She reached out and touched his arm.

‘God, I’m sorry Dan; if it wasn’t for you I would probably be dead, but my life’s been turned upside down since we were in Fujairah. It’s really painful still, but actually you’re someone I feel I can talk to, if you’re happy to listen. You saved my life back then; I had rather forgotten that I owe you my thanks and now I owe you an apology...I’m sorry.’

He smiled and seemed slightly embarrassed, but was saved from making a reply by the arrival of the maître d’ who appeared at his elbow.

‘Your table’s ready now, sir.’

‘Oh...er…good, thank you.’

Their table was in a quiet corner. Gerry sat down, took a tissue from her handbag, gave a little sniff and wiped away imaginary tears from the corners of her eyes, taking care not to disturb her make up. ‘Philip, my fiancé, was out in Abuja as an Arabic speaker. He wasn’t really a field operative, but they needed a good translator out there. Anyway he was working with Dean Furness and Dean thinks that a kill order was put on the two of them because they learned some highly sensitive information. Phil died in a car accident and Dean escaped to London and came to see me. He was killed in my apartment and I was arrested for his murder.’

‘That must have been a bad time, but I can’t believe your people didn’t back you up.’

She shook her head. ‘I was put on trial, convicted of murder and I’ve been in prison until a few days ago. I expect you remember I was pregnant; I didn’t have an abortion, I had the baby in prison and I gave her up for adoption. I was only released because Ali Hamsin insisted on seeing me.’

‘Holy shit, how perfectly awful for you!’

Having engaged Dan’s sympathy Gerry tried to turn the conversation around so he was talking.

‘How about you? Did you get married, have kids?’

She glanced down at his injured left hand but she remembered from their meeting two days ago that he had no ring on the stub of his finger. She looked up again, but he had followed her gaze.

‘That was my closest brush with death in Helmand province. Presumably a bullet, or shrapnel maybe,’ he mused, gazing at his hand. ‘But no, not married. Nearly, once; but not.’

‘So what have you been doing since we last met?’ she asked, but at that moment the maître d’ appeared at his elbow. They spent a couple of hurried minutes reading menus and ordering their dinner.

‘You asked me what I’d been up to,’ said Dan. ‘After our adventure I spent two years in Iraq from where I emerged unscathed. Then I was in a training post back home for a year and then I transferred to Special Forces in Afghanistan. After my hand was injured I went back home; I needed a surprisingly intricate operation to repair tendon damage.’ He held out his hand and Gerry took it and inspected the scars. For a moment she considered kissing it, but decided that would be over the top.

‘I met this nurse called Sylvia in the hospital. We were together for two years or so but in the end it didn’t work out and I left the army and joined the agency. When I was in hospital I’d met this guy Jasper White who’d been shot through the leg. We used to meet up in physio, and he said that perhaps if I decided to leave the army I should give him a call. When I split from Sylvia, I did.’

Gerry latched on to this opportunity. ‘This Jasper White guy must have made a good impression on you. I don’t think I’ve ever met him but I’ve heard his name mentioned.’

‘His background is similar to mine. He was a colonel in the marines but then he was recruited by the agency. He was brought in by his former CO, General Robert Bruckner.’

‘Oh yes, I know him,’ said Gerry. ‘Go on.’

‘Well White and Bruckner head up the section on Middle East Special Projects, which has obviously been very active over the last few years. We try to keep as low a profile as possible though, because of all the stuff about extraordinary rendition and harsh interrogation.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Gerry, ‘it was pretty brutal.’

Hall looked up sharply at her. ‘Well don’t sound so prissy,’ he muttered, ‘you were a friggin’ assassin for chrissake!’

‘I was not an assassin,’ she whispered back fiercely, ‘I was in executive ops, and sometimes people get killed. On both sides.’

‘Yes I know; I’m sorry.’ He looked around. ‘Our starters should be here by now.’

‘What do you know about me, then Dan? Have you been given a thorough briefing on Geraldine Tate, who you thought was Emily Stevens?’ she challenged. He seemed very uncomfortable and Gerry cursed herself for sounding aggressive. The waiter suddenly appeared and placed a bowl of soup in front of Gerry and a Caesar salad before Dan. She quickly picked up a spoon and tasted it. It was too salty. ‘This is good,’ she declared enthusiastically, ‘how’s yours?’

‘Well I’ve hardly started, but it seems ok. Look Gerry; I probably know more about your career than you imagine. I looked you up in the computer today, but it reported that you’d been discharged. It didn’t say you were in prison.’ He paused. ‘And it never mentioned your daughter.’

She nodded. ‘Well the last few years have certainly been a fairly blank period for me.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No, not now Dan. I could give you a two minute token piece of bullshit, or else I might go on for hour after hour, unloading it on to you.’ He gazed at her with a strange, unfathomable expression that she found disconcerting.

‘So why did you invite me out tonight, Dan?’ she asked.

He put down his fork and gazed intently at her. ‘I just want you to know that if things suddenly turnout a bit er…unexpected, then I want you to know that you can count on me.’

‘Unexpected in what way?’ she asked, intrigued.

‘I just think someone is playing a sort of double game, someone has a hidden agenda, but I don’t know exactly who at the moment.’

Gerry put down her spoon and smiled at him. ‘Your right Dan, lots of people have agendas, and one of them is me.’

‘Why are you telling me that? Aren’t you concerned that I’ll report back?’

‘If your lot don’t think I’m going to try and squeeze every personal advantage I can from this situation, from being in prison to suddenly finding myself involved in what looks to be some kind of cover up, I’d be amazed.’

‘Gerry, this is important. I’m sure something’s going down, and I want you to know that I’ll be there for you.’

She put on her most serious face. ‘Ok Dan thank you for that assurance, I’m grateful. I’ll be on my guard.’ She could trust absolutely nobody but herself, and that included Dan Hall, no matter what he said. ‘Just because I’m not paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not all out to get me,’ she said to herself. She decided to change the subject. ‘How’s your squash?’

‘My squash?’ He looked at his salad and then realised what she meant. ‘Oh you mean the game! How did you know?…oh yes, I’d just finished a match with Richard Davies, your Embassy guy when we first met. We’ve kept in touch. He’s in Singapore at the moment. I last saw him out in Kabul. Last time he e-mailed me he said he was thinking about early retirement because he had met some Australian woman and thought that after all his years abroad he’d prefer to live somewhere hot and sunny rather than cold and damp.’

‘Yes, he was a good guy. What was it like in Kabul? Sorry, silly question as you nearly lost your hand. What with the scar on your cheek, you’ve got your share of wounds.’

He fingered the side of his face. ‘This wasn’t incurred in the line of duty.’ He grinned. ‘Let me tell you a cautionary tale about teasing the neighbour’s dog,’ he began.

 

Against her expectations Gerry enjoyed her evening with Dan Hall. He told her about his family and assured her that his financial affairs were in order. She wondered why, but then recalled that she had described his financial problems to him in detail in that awkward encounter years earlier. She had noticed him sneaking the occasional glance at her breasts while putting down his glass, but she had looked approvingly at his own physique so that was fair enough.  She felt relatively cheerful as he drove her back to the hotel.

She was a little disappointed when he did not try to give her as much as a peck on the cheek, but before he went she had to ask him an important question, so she took hold of his hand. ‘Dan, why are you looking out for me? Why are you so eager to… well why did you say that I should definitely trust you?’

He turned to one side and then the other, and then peered over her shoulder and then looked down to her hand holding his. ‘Because I love you Gerry,’ he mumbled. She dropped his hand as if it had burnt her and took a step back.

‘What?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘That’s ridiculous! You hardly know me…I hardly know you!’

‘Yeah…well there it is…ever since we first met I’ve been thinking about you, but I sort of pushed it aside. Then I suddenly see you again and wham. Yeah I’m crazy I guess. Sorry to freak you out.’ He turned away and walked quickly out of the lobby. Gerry turned on her heel, lifted her eyes heavenwards and shook her head again as she walked to the elevator.

Back in her room she sat down at the desk and gazed into the mirror. Should she have gone to meet him without bothering to have a shower or change her clothes or put on make-up? Would that have made a difference? She suddenly remembered clutching one of his hands as she lay bleeding on the bed whilst with his other he held the towel over the wound in her abdomen. She remembered him calling ‘Stay with me Gerry, stay with me!’ as they waited for the ambulance. For years and years nobody had told her that she was loved. Oh what crap, he barely knew her!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

Gerry spent a restless night tossing and turning. Whenever she woke up, her mind began to consider the implications of her meeting with Ali Hamsin and the startling admission by Dan Hall which kept distracting her from her analysis of the situation. In the small hours of the morning she replayed their adventure in Fujairah and their more recent meetings and much to her surprise she acknowledged a developing interest in seeing him again.  This admission seemed to calm her and she fell asleep until 5.50am when she heard a strange muffled thud through the door, then another. She realised it was the sound of newspapers being dropped in the hotel corridor outside each occupied room. She pulled back one of the drapes and gazed out over the sea. It was about half an hour before sunrise but she could just see the waves rolling towards the shore, and the wet sand reflecting the light from the shore front street lamps. She let the drape fall back and lay down on the bed. She drifted between asleep and awake for another hour before getting up and making some strong coffee which she hoped would enable her to think more clearly about the events of yesterday. Her meeting with Hamsin had been abruptly terminated, just as he was about to reveal something, but when he flew back to London with her then surely he’d have ample time to speak to her. Perhaps they wouldn’t release him now after all, or perhaps she wouldn’t be allowed to meet him again. She opened a drawer and pulled out her running kit. Dawn lightened the sky to the east, but it was still dark along the shore front road. She set off at a steady pace and settled into her rhythm, but having turned matters over during an hour’s run she was no nearer an explanation.

 

Gerry was in the bath when her telephone rang. She reached out for the handset, thinking once again that having a telephone in her bathroom at home might be a useful addition. ‘Yes?’

‘Good morning Gerry! Richard Cornwall here. How are you?’

‘I’m ok thanks. How are things back in the office?’

‘We’re managing thank you. I’m calling to say that I received your e-mail with your arrival time. 2100 hours local time here. Does it have to be so late?’

‘No it doesn’t but I thought we should arrive after dark, so no inquisitive types can see us.’

‘Ok, fair enough but it’s going to put the overtime bill up of course. I have to watch my budget you know. I’ve confirmed all the details with our friends in Grosvenor Square, Special Branch, the Ministry, et cetera et cetera.

‘Very good. Are you coming out to the airport?’ asked Gerry.

‘Actually I will. It’s got me out of a social engagement I’ve been looking to avoid. So…any problems at your end?’

Gerry wondered whether she should bring up the business of her meeting with Ali Hamsin being terminated, and the startling revelation that he had no idea that she was coming to see him, but she decided that discretion was her best option. ‘No. Everything’s fine here, but I’m in the bath at the moment.’

‘Oh…well I won’t keep you. Call me when you have a departure and arrival time fixed.’

 

Gerry wallowed amongst the bubbles for a while, then wrapped a towel around herself, walked back into the bedroom and came to an abrupt halt. Ryan Carson and Vince Parker were sitting in the armchairs beside the window. Carson was holding a gun which was pointing towards her and Parker was holding a Taser.

‘Do you suppose she’s got any dangerous weapons concealed under that towel?’ he announced with an evil grin.

‘Oh grow up, Carson,’ said Parker. ‘Sorry Gerry, we’re going to ask you to get dressed and come with us, and obviously we’re not going to let you out of our sight for a moment.’

Gerry stared at them for a while, trying to think of some way in which she might escape the situation. She was not overly concerned with modesty but nevertheless she turned away from them as she lowered the towel to her waist, put on her bra and a blouse and then hoisted her knickers up underneath her towel before putting on her jeans. Then she turned round and asked ‘What the hell is this all about?’

‘Why don’t you sit down and put your shoes on?’ Vince suggested.

She sat on the bed and pulled on socks and her trainers. Then she heard the mechanical twang of the Taser and she collapsed on to the floor. As she lay immobilised Carson thrust a syringe into her buttock and pressed down the plunger with his thumb. His grinning face was the last thing she saw as her mind faded.

 

Gerry woke up with a throbbing headache. She opened her eyes and saw the metal roof of a utility van. She moaned and clutched the side of her head. She remembered being hit by the Taser and then the sharp stab in her backside. She took some deep breaths hoping the pain in her skull would ease off.

‘See Mark, she’s awake already,’ said Carson. Gerry felt a foot nudging her in the ribs. ‘Come on Tate, time to wake up.’

Gerry closed her eyes and opened them slowly. The pain in her head changed from an intense throbbing to a dull ache. She looked around and saw she was strapped inside a covert surveillance van with her arms cuffed behind the seat back. Ryan Carson was sitting next to the communications console. In the other seat sat a powerful man with a Mexican style moustache. He held a Taser which he pointed at Gerry.

‘This is Mark Stafford,’ said Carson, ‘he’ll zap you if you make any sudden moves.’

‘Where are we going?’ she mumbled. She tried to shake off her drug induced torpor. ‘Ryan! What the hell are you playing at?’ she demanded. ‘I thought we were meant to be on the same side?’

‘Well we’re not sure whose side you’re on, Gerry; we think perhaps you’ve gone over to the dark side.’

‘It’s that bastard Bruckner who’s the dark side. I want to speak to my boss Cornwall.’

‘Sorry, you’re not in any position to make demands,’ said Carson. We’re going to ship you home, where I think they’ll be waiting to arrest you. Now we’re gonna take you to the airport.

‘What about my things?’ she asked.

‘Don’t worry; Dan Hall’s already packing up your stuff, then he’ll pay your hotel bill and return your car to the hire company.’

Dan Hall? So much for her trusting him. ‘This is ridiculous, why don’t I speak to General Bruckner. I’m sure…’

‘Why don’t you just be a good girl and shut the fuck up?’ said Stafford with a slight wave of the Taser.

 

She was driven to an anonymous house in a rundown neighbourhood and ushered inside at gunpoint. Carson showed her into a room sparsely furnished with a bed and an armchair, and a small table with a stack of tatty magazines on top of it. He took off the handcuffs.

‘There’s water and granola bars in the fridge. Bathroom’s through there,’ he said indicating a doorway. She looked in and saw that the small window was bricked up.

‘See that mirror?’ He pointed, and she looked at the large wall mirror with a serving hatch beside it. ‘We’ll be watching you through that. If we think you’re spending too long in the bathroom, we’ll come and see what you’re up to. We’ll pass you water and food through that hatch if you want it.’

Gerry walked to the hatch and opened it. There was a small ring-stained shelf and another door on the other side of the wall.

‘You said we were going to the airport,’ Gerry said.

‘True enough, but your flight’s not due to leave until this evening.’

 

Gerry woke up slumped in a corner of the SUV. She had no recollection of climbing into it. She remembered spending a few boring hours reading through the pile of magazines that ranged from the Economist and Newsweek through various women’s periodicals, magazines covering fly fishing, golf and baseball and the National Enquirer. She had been provided with a water bottle and when she had grown hungry she asked her captors for a chicken salad. Instead she had been given a spicy pepperoni pizza and told that was all she was going to get. After she had eaten some of it she felt really thirsty and asked for more water. She remembered sitting in the chair, feeling very drowsy and deciding to climb on to the bed and thinking it would take a huge effort to move and then no more until she had come round to find herself in the vehicle. 

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but the sun was setting behind the buildings. She knew she should be thinking about the possibilities of escape, but instead she considered how unsuitable she had become for the role of an intelligence agent on foreign soil. She had taken no proper precautions to secure her safety; she should have alarmed the door, kept a weapon handy at all times, even when she was taking a bath. If she had been as careless years ago as she had been in the last few days she would have been dead by now. She remembered the last time she had been taken by surprise in a hotel room. Dan Hall had been around to save her. Perhaps he would live up to his recent promise, hold up the vehicle and set her free. The car drew to a sudden stop and she looked outside. Not Dan Hall; just a security guard raising a striped pole set in the gap of a chain link fence topped with a coil of razor wire. He waved the vehicle through and Gerry slumped back in the seat. She guessed that she had been given dose of rohypnol or something similar to keep her placid after the sleeping drug had worn off.

The car pulled up beside a set of aircraft steps. The door opened and hands reached out and pulled her towards the stairway. She looked up and saw an airliner painted entirely in white. Along the fuselage she could see the faint outlines of letters of its previous owners, but she could not make out the logo. She saw someone carrying her suitcase up to the aircraft side and a voice encouraging her to follow. She stumbled on the lowest step and banged her shin, but someone hauled her upright and she trod wearily up to the doorway.

Once inside she saw that there was a row of rearward facing seats at the front of the passenger cabin and rows of tatty looking economy class seats in standard three abreast on each side of the aisle, but instead of being crammed together for cheap air travel the rows were spaced six feet apart.

She was ushered half way down the cabin and told to sit in the seats on the right. Trying to overcome her dispirited lethargy she inspected her surroundings with more interest. The first thing she noticed was that her seat had a five point harness of the type fitted to a rally car or to a pilot’s seat. The buckle was fitted with a keyhole instead of the usual rotary release knob. Down on the floor by each seat there were steel rings for shackles. The aircraft was plainly used for the transportation of dangerous criminals, part of the Justice Prisoner and Alien Transportation System, JPATS, more commonly known as Con Air.

She looked up when another figure was escorted on board. It was Ali Hamsin! She called out his name. He did not seem to recognise her but merely stared at the floor as he was prodded down the aisle until he was shoved into a seat three rows ahead of her.

She heard new voices talking. She looked up and saw General Robert Bruckner talking to Ryan Carson, Vince Parker and Mark Stafford. They all four stared towards her and she stared back towards them hoping she appeared defiant rather than bewildered. Then Dan Hall stepped through the doorway. Here was the man who had told her to place her trust in him; she must have been a bloody idiot to have given him any credence.   

She closed her eyes and tried to organise her thoughts. Why was she being sent back to the UK as a prisoner? If she was to be arrested for the murder of Dean Furness, they could have done that in Florida. Were they actually going back to the UK, or were they heading for some country where human rights were routinely disregarded, including waterboarding and imprisonment without trial?

‘Ok Gerry, I’m going to have to strap you in.’ She looked up; it was Dan Hall.

‘What the fuck are you doing Dan? I thought I was meant to trust you, but I’m just one of your bloody prisoners.’ His steady gaze carried no hint of the emotions he had expressed yesterday.

‘I’m sorry Gerry; I’m unable to answer any of your questions. Please sit back in your seat and allow me to fasten these straps.’ He reached for the harness and began to fasten it. She grabbed his wrists.

‘What the hell are you doing to me?’ she demanded.

‘Does she need a jolt?’ someone called out. Gerry saw Stafford standing in the aisle with his Taser ready. Hall turned back to Gerry and frowned at her.

‘No, she’s not going to be a problem.’ Hall gazed into her eyes for a moment and then twisted his hands free and fastened the five point harness in place with a series of sharp decisive clicks. Next he ran his hands down her leg and Gerry suddenly froze as she felt a hard object being pushed down inside her shoe. ‘It’s a key to the buckle,’ he whispered. Then he reached under his jacket and briefly showed her a Smith and Wesson Chief’s Special, a small but effective handgun, and began to push it behind her. She eased her lower back forward to make room. Finally he showed her a card which he pushed under her thigh. ‘Contact me if you can. I’ll be on the run. It’s the best I can do… good luck.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.

He straightened up. ‘That’s not too tight, is it?’ he announced.

‘You fucking bastards,’ she snarled. Carson, Stafford and Bruckner glanced briefly at her but then resumed their conversation as Hall re-joined them. Bruckner stared down the length of the aircraft until his eyes fastened briefly on hers and then he turned and said something to the other three men who chuckled in response. Then he clapped Dan Hall on the shoulder and the two of them disappeared through the entry door. Vince Parker said something to Ryan Carson and they shook hands, then Parker looked towards her, gave an ironic salute and then he followed Bruckner and Hall out of the aircraft.

BOOK: The Gilgamesh Conspiracy
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