Authors: Thomas Ryan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #War & Military, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Military, #Spies & Politics, #Conspiracies, #Thriller, #Thrillers
18.
T
here he is,” Barbara said, pointing toward the swiftly moving Esat Krasniqi. “That’s my car opposite. The grey Mercedes sports parked outside the pharmacy.” She tossed her keys to Jeff. “You can drive. If you get a ticket for speeding or crashing a red light it’s on you.”
Jeff smiled. Barbara had spirit.
He fumbled the key into the ignition, pulled out and u-turned. Esat had climbed into his car but as yet had not driven off. Jeff pulled over. Esat’s brake lights flashed. He moved forward. Jeff let two cars pass then gave chase.
“A white car should be easy enough to keep sight of,” Jeff said.
The white Toyota turned into Queen Street and then right onto Customs Street and was soon making its way up Parnell Rise.
“Luckily, for a Saturday night the traffic is light,” Jeff said.
Traffic lights opposite the Anglican Church turned red. The two cars between Jeff and Esat turned left on the green arrow signal. Jeff had little choice but close the distance, almost touching the bumper of Esat’s Toyota. He held his hand across his face. An instinctive reaction but he doubted Esat could see anything more than a dark outline in his rear-view mirror.
“He’s heading for Newmarket,” Barbara said.
Jeff kept to the inside lane. Fifty metres before the century-old Jubilee building, now housing the Parnell library and community centre, the Toyota’s right blinker flashed and Esat turned into Maunsell, an entry street into the Domain.
“I don’t like the look of this,” Jeff said, more to himself.
He glanced across at Barbara; her eyes were fixed on the Toyota. She didn’t acknowledge she’d heard his comment. Lucky, he thought. He didn’t want to worry her, not yet, anyway, but the
Domain was a perfect spot for an ambush. In his military days he’d
had to study prominent features of Auckland city. As he remembered it the central city park covered more than seventy-five
hectares spread out across the crater of the extinct Pukekawa volcano
. Not that you’d ever know it was a volcano. Like all Aucklanders, he had been in the park hundreds of times. As a kid he played football on the many sports fields, even been to a concert. He’d been in the winter garden, the cricket pavilion, duck ponds and small copses of trees, but he had never seen the volcano. The crater walls were now camouflaged by trees and housing and further-out roads and commercial buildings.
The one spot Jeff would rather have steered clear of was the kilometre of forest and bush on the seaward side. This was close to where Esat Krasniqi had driven and was now slowing.
Jeff turned off the Mercedes’s lights and pulled over. He left the motor idling. Esat moved forward at walking pace.
“What’s he up to?” Barbara asked.
“Looking for someone I’d say.”
“I guessed that, Jeff. I’m not an idiot. Surely they would have a rendezvous point?”
“Maybe the contact is being cautious. Looking to see if anyone like you and me is following.”
“That makes sense, I suppose, but I’m nervous.”
Jeff inched closer. Esat pulled over in front of a palm tree. The only one as far as Jeff could see. It was an easily identifiable landmark to use for a meeting spot. Jeff kept his distance. Lights off.
Esat remained in the car.
“Why don’t we just call the police, Jeff?”
“Firstly, he hasn’t done anything but go for a drive. What would you say to Brian? That you followed a man in a car and you think he should be arrested? Secondly, if these guys operate the way I think they do, individually they will know bits and pieces but no one will know everything. That’s how terrorist cells work, but right now I don’t know for certain that Esat belongs to one. Anyway, we can always find Esat later but we might never find the man he is meeting if this encounter goes awry. If the contact doesn’t get in the car I’m going after him.” Barbara touched Jeff’s arm. Concerned.
“It’s what I’m trained to do,” he said.
Barbara’s mobile rang. “Barbara Heywood.”
“Barbara, its Brian.”
Barbara glanced across at Jeff and mouthed, ‘Brian Cunningham’
. “How can I help, Brian?”
“My call back to the station came to nothing. I was wondering, if you’re still at the nightclub and in the mood I might come back, have a drink. What do you think? If you want we could go somewhere for dinner.”
“Someone’s coming,” Jeff whispered.
“Just a moment, Brian.”
A stocky, overweight figure emerged from behind the palm tree. Barbara barely dared to breathe.
“If that’s not Akbar, it’s an associate of his. I’d stake my life on it,” Jeff whispered. “And if that’s true then I was right all along. Akbar has a reason for being here and he’s brought men with him.”
“Barbara. Are you there?”
“Please, Brian,” Barbara whispered into the phone. “One moment.”
She watched as the man moved to the driver’s window.
“He’s not getting in,” Jeff said. “Esat’s car is still running. Fuck it.” He turned to Barbara. “Stay with the car.”
Jeff pushed the door open and climbed out.
“If anything goes wrong get the hell out of here.”
“Barbara. Talk to me,” Cunningham said. Voice firmer.
Jeff walked at a steady pace towards the white Toyota. Barbara slid across into the driver’s seat.
“Jesus. He’s going after him,” Barbara said into the phone.
“After who?” Cunningham yelled. “Barbara!”
“Sorry, Brian. Jeff and I followed a hunch and it’s paid off. Jeff believes a man working for your potential killer-come-terrorist is not more than a hundred metres away. He’s gone after him.”
“He’s bloody well what? Where the hell are you?”
“Maunsell Street. The last street on the right before the Newmarket library. We’re parked at the entrance to the Domain where Maunsell cuts across Titoki. Outside the Parnell tennis club. The man came out from some trees.”
“I’m on my way. Do not move!” Cunningham screamed and rang off.
Barbara dropped the phone onto the passenger seat. She held her right hand over her mouth. Holding in her breath. Eyes wide. Fearful that the slightest sound might alert the men Jeff was closing in on.
Fifteen metres from Esat’s car Zahar’s man looked up. Jeff increased his pace. The man talking to Esat looked about him. Uncertain. He stepped back from the car.
The tyres of Esat’s car spun on the loose metal, flinging gravel like shrapnel from a grenade as it accelerated forward.
“Hold it right there,” Jeff yelled.
The barrel-shaped man turned and ran into the park. Jeff chased after him.
“Bloody hell.” Barbara accelerated to the point where she had seen Jeff disappear and stopped, then turned off the engine.
19.
R
ed drove fast.
Cunningham had not been able to get Barbara on her mobile. The number he dialled kept switching to message. If what she said was true and Zahar Akbar was about she was in serious danger. It surprised him how much getting to her and protecting her had prompted his reaction. Reinforcements and coordinating roadblocks should have taken precedence. Bad leadership. He slapped the top of the dashboard in relief when Red screeched the car across Titoki Street into the Domain and saw Barbara standing next to her sports car.
Brian ran to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded. “Good. Now tell me. What the hell are you doing here and what happened?” He looked in the car as he spoke. “And where the hell is Bradley?”
Barbara quickly related the meeting in Quentin’s nightclub.
“As I said on the phone, the guy who met the car saw Jeff and ran off and Jeff chased after him.”
“Jesus. Red, ring through to the Tactics Group. I want this bloody park surrounded right now. Every available man. Contact Senior Sergeant Te Kanawa and tell her to take everyone off the switchboards if she needs more personnel.”
“You don’t have that authority, sir,” Red protested.
“No. But she can get it.”
Even as he spoke he was already thinking it was an impossible task. How do you surround something the size of the Domain with reduced staff?
“Barbara. I thought we had an agreement. Sharing, remember?” He opened his mouth to say more but thought better of it “Forget it. Which way did they go?”
She pointed. “Down through this park, across the bottom road and into the trees exactly where I’m pointing.”
“Okay. Now listen to me. Go back to your apartment. Wait there. No arguments. Just do it.”
“Brian, I don’t need a nursemaid. I’m a journalist, for Christ’s sake. This is a top story. And I’m here on the spot. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re also interfering in police business. Do you want me to have you arrested?”
She glared at him. Stood her ground.
“All right. Stay here. Go no further. Got it?”
She held his eyes.
“All right. Stay here for your own bloody safety. Can you at least do that?”
She nodded.
Cunningham turned and ran to the spot she had pointed to. Barbara watched until Cunningham was lost from sight then spun on her heel and walked back to her car.
Jeff cursed himself for the idiot he was as he crashed his way through the trees. Chasing a man who might be an international terrorist and who was probably armed, into the bush, in the dark, had to top them all. If the runner had a knife or another weapon of sorts it would be bad enough but if he had a firearm it would be a one-sided contest. Branches tore at his shirt sleeves and scratched at his face; thousands of wooden hands with unclipped fingernails.
Jeff slowed to stealthy steps. The crashing sound ahead stopped. Any movement Akbar’s man made would be heard easy enough unless he had the eyes of a cat and could step over twigs and he hadn’t and couldn’t. Jeff reached down and felt about for a rock. Anything he could use as a weapon.
Ten minutes passed and neither Jeff nor the man he hunted had moved. Jeff was patient. Time was on his side. He spun at the sound of footsteps behind him. His fists clenched, he struck a boxers pose. Ready. How the hell had the bastard circled him?
“Jeff?” he heard his name whispered.
“Brian?”
“Of course it’s me. What do you think you’re doing?”
Jeff didn’t answer.
“Where is he?”
“In here somewhere. He’s stopped moving about.”
“You have a plan?”
“We were trained to wait,” Jeff said. “So we’ll wait. He’ll have to make a move sooner or later and we’ll hear him. I take it you have men on the way.”
Sirens could be heard in the distance. “Here comes the cavalry now,” Cunningham said.
Twigs crunched a few metres away. A shadow flitted to the left. Jeff ran after it. Zahar’s man was quick but Jeff was quicker. As they
came together Jeff wrapped his arms round his opponent and they
tumbled down the sloping incline. He almost lost his hold but Jeff clung to kicking legs.
Then everything went black.
“Jeff, Jeff, speak to me,” Cunningham yelled.
“Stop shaking me,” Jeff groaned. “What the hell happened?”
“You’ve lost your edge, that’s what happened. Too long out of the service. You’ve gone soft.”
Jeff sat up and held his head. Cunningham knelt beside him.
“Are you okay?”
“Except for injured pride, I’m okay.” He ran fingers across his forehead. “I have a lump on my head.”
“No more than you bloody deserve. You let him get the better of you. I’m disappointed.”
“Thanks for the support. And why the hell didn’t you go after him?”
“Believe me it was my first thought but I had a man down, namely you, and I couldn’t very well leave you dying in the woods. We never leave a man behind, remember?”
Jeff accepted Cunningham’s hand and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He felt his face; blood was running from his nose. The sound of sirens now came from all directions.
“Sounds like an awful lot of cops arriving. Maybe you’ll get lucky?”
“My guess is he’s a smart guy. He’ll get out somewhere.”
Barbara smiled when she saw them but, as Jeff drew closer, she frowned.
“Jeff. Are you all right? You look awful.”
“I think he broke my nose,” Jeff moaned with a nasally sound.
Three police cars had formed a road block.
“Did he get away?” Barbara asked.
Jeff nodded, and then winced.
“I’m afraid so,” Cunningham said. “I’ll get the dogs in. He’s still in there somewhere. Barbara, can you take Jeff to the emergency clinic then drop him down at the ferry terminal? I can’t spare anyone. It’s more than he deserves. He never was one to follow an order.”
“It wasn’t obeying the order I had a problem with, it was the order itself.”
Cunningham shrugged. “I’ll talk to you two later.”
Barbara opened the passenger door.
“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Barbara said.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve suffered far worse. Just get me out of here.”
She looked at her watch. “You’ll never catch a ferry at this hour. You better come home with me. I’ll tend to your wounds, soldier, and I have whisky.”
Inside her apartment Barbara pointed to the lounge. “Take a seat. I’ll get us a drink.”
Jeff collapsed on the couch. After a few minutes Barbara came through carrying a tray with a bottle of whisky and two glasses and a small bucket of ice.
“Do you think the police will have him by now?” Barbara asked.
She dropped ice into both glasses and poured whisky over it.
“He’ll get away,” Jeff stated. Despondent. “He was in survival mode. Makes you stronger, more cunning. I’m rusty, out of my depth, totally inept. So now we’re back to square one. Both our leads to Akbar got away.”
“I have a spare room.”
Jeff managed a smile. Another grimace. “You’re asking me to spend the night with you.”
“Consider yourself fortunate. It’s a rare invitation. I value my privacy.”
“When a beautiful woman and a celebrity to boot asks me to spend the night with her, I’m hardly likely to turn her down.”
Jeff was suddenly exhausted. The second whisky was working its magic. When his head hit the pillow he drifted into a sleep as deep as a coma.
Sometime later, Jeff awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains.
The bathroom was across the hall. He checked his face. His eye and nose were tender but not swollen. The lump on the side of his head felt like the size of a goose egg. The asshole must have hit him with a rock. He touched the swelling and winced. It hurt but the nose hadn’t broken. He used the shower then threw on his grubby clothes. Freshened, he ventured out into to the lounge. Barbara was cooking. She had dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt. Casual but cute. How he imagined a Sunday morning might be if they were in a relationship. Nice, was the word that came to mind.
She smiled when she saw him.
“Good morning. Hope you’re in the mood for breakfast.”
“I’m starving.”
He sat at the breakfast bar. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee
tickled his senses. Barbara placed a cup in front of him then poured the coffee.
“How’s the head?” Barbara asked.
“Not so bad. Any word from Brian?”
“He phoned earlier. He’s on his way to pay me a visit. I don’t think we’re his favourite people.”
The doorbell rang.
“Speak of the devil. I’ll bet that’s him now.”
Barbara pulled the frying pan off the element and went to the door. Cunningham had obviously been up all night. He walked past her. She closed the door and followed him into the lounge. He hesitated when he saw Jeff. He looked back at Barbara. Both knew what he was assuming. He glared at Jeff. Jeff sipped on his coffee. Not intimidated.
“Brian, would you like a coffee? Breakfast?” Barbara asked.
“A coffee. Thank you.” He kept his eyes on Jeff.
“How’s your head?”
“I’ll live. He got away I take it?”
“Yes.”
Barbara said, “I’m sorry about last night, Brian. No one meant to go behind your back. It was a spur of the moment thing.”
“Is that the way it was, Jeff, a spur of the moment thing? This guy Akbar was one of the men responsible for this friend of yours killed in Kosovo. Are you sure you didn’t have a little revenge in mind?”
“It had crossed my mind. But no. Quentin introduced me to a man named Esat Krasniqi. He’s a refugee from Kosovo. For a man who had been in New Zealand for only a few years he had gotten rich very quickly. I played a hunch and mentioned a few names and it spooked him. Barbara had a car. I didn’t. The decision had to be made there and then. We followed him to the park. The rest you know.”
“This Krasniqi. Do you know how to make contact with him?”
“Quentin can help you there.”
“I’d better go see him.” Brian put his cup on the counter. He looked to leave then hesitated. “Can I drop you somewhere, Jeff?”
“Thanks. But after breakfast I’ll amble down to the ferry.”
“Thank you for the coffee, Barbara. If I think of anything else I’ll call you later.”