THE ORANGE MOON AFFAIR (24 page)

“Okay. I'll go back.”

“You'll need some equipment, I'll get it for you. Where will you be later tonight?”

“At the Hall. I have to check on Mary.”

From the back seat, Oldfield swore softly. “I need more computing power to crack this,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

“Will the computer at the Hall do?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you drive, I don't have a car,” I said opening the door and hesitating a moment as pain shot down my leg. It had taken a crack as I dived for cover in Stacy's office.

“The leg?” Danny asked.

“Yep.”

“You'll be okay?”

“No choice.”

“See you later. I'll call.” He tossed me a small highly sophisticated mobile sat-phone. “Compliments of your Government.”

“I've got enough damn phones, I'll stick with what I've got.”

“Not for this mission. If you need help fast, you'll need this.”

Danny drove off and Oldfield and I headed for his car.

We parked the car in the barn
with the Mini-Cooper that Oldfield took a few minutes admiring, which surprised me. I thought he only had eyes for computers and expensive single malt.

“Had one when I was an undergrad,” he said nostalgically.

“We need to go,” I said roughly and led the way across the fields to the Hall. After the debacle in Stacy's office, it was quite possible that somebody had put the pieces together and realised I was still alive. The Government knew, but who else?

For an hour I scouted the perimeter after telling Oldfield to stay out of sight. I knew every part of the grounds and the approaches, and every conceivable hiding place, and having cleared them all, returned to Oldfield and together we crossed to the Folly. I could see he was quite excited about the secret passage to the Hall and giggled softly every now and then. At the door to the wine cellar, I waited, listening for even the slightest sound, but there was nothing. The door opened with a soft creak, just wide enough for Oldfield and I to slip through. I closed it and made sure it couldn't be seen behind the wine rack, then led the way into the kitchen and up the back stairs to the flat, avoiding the main living area.

It was just as Julie and I had left it. Her clothes in the closet, beauty items on the dressing table and the lingering smell of her in the air. Mary hadn't changed anything. It seemed a lifetime ago, a gentle warm memory mixed with inconsolable pain, and scrapbook images of us together, laughing, making love, her face as she slept, darted into my consciousness like pieces of old news film.

I shut the door to the wardrobe and the door to my memory with one movement. I was here for a purpose; there would be time enough when all this was over, to ponder on what might have been. Much to my surprise, Oldfield was already at the computer attaching the hard drive, seemingly oblivious to Julie's ghostly presence in the room.

“There's still some user encryption I can't fathom,” Oldfield said quietly.

Staring down at the screen I had a thought. It was Stacy expression when I had mentioned Orange Moon that gave me an idea. “Type in
'Orange Moon'
.”

He did, the screen flashed then revealed Stacy's desktop. Oldfield quickly went through the folders and stopped at one entitled
'The Orange Moon Affair'
. It seemed to me that perhaps Stacy's flair for the dramatic made him name the folder like a book title. Oldfield clicked on and was informed that access required a password. He ran his encryption code and came up with nothing.

“It's like a pretty standard zero knowledge cryptographic protocol, but with some very sophisticated extra layers. Normally I'd crack one of these in no time,” Oldfield said obliquely after trying several algorithms. “I can verify who I am to the computer, but not get the information that's hidden on the drive. There's a key somewhere that's impossible to find.”

“Orange Moon,” I thought aloud, my mind racing. “Everything comes back to Orange Moon. In Northern Ireland the guys in the office At Venus Automotive talked about it.”

“Well there's nothing I can do with this here. Maybe if I take it back to my office I can crack it.”

“Did you get anything from the tracker Julie installed in the Coltrane Engineering server?”

“Actually come to think of it, I found a similar encryption. Again I'll have to get this back to my office.”

Then the hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I thought I heard a sound downstairs. I thought it strange that Mary would be still up at this time.

“Pack up, I'll be back in a minute. I need to check on Mary.” The upstairs landing was quiet. Mary was not in her room, so I went downstairs where I could see a light shining from beneath the door of the sitting room and the front door was open. In the distance I heard the sound of a car accelerating down the driveway. Whoever had broken into the hall probably had heard us moving around upstairs and had made a quick getaway. I opened the sitting room door slowly, Glock in hand. There inside, sitting in one of the high backed wing armchairs next to the fire was Mary, unconscious, the sleeve of her right arm rolled up and a tourniquet still wrapped above her elbow. On the floor next to the armchair were an empty syringe and a jar of Orange Moon Body Butter, but there was no body butter in it, just pure heroin. Whoever had administered the dose didn't have time to loosen the tourniquet, which was why she was still alive. I checked her pulse. It was low and slow, then called the emergency services telling them I was an employee and had found Mary who seemed to have overdosed, ringing off before the emergency operator could ask any questions. I looked towards the door and saw Milly the housekeeper's body crumpled in the corner.

I waited with her, long enough so that Oldfield came looking for me.

“Is she okay?” he said on entering the sitting room.

“She will be. But Milly isn't.” I pointed over to the corner and thought for a moment Oldfield would throw-up, but he took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hallway. In the distance I could hear a siren wailing. It would be here in four minutes. “Let's go,” I said, picking up the jar of Orange Moon and walking to the front door, leaving it open with the porch lights on, and ran with Oldfield quickly to the Folly. Whoever had done this to Mary probably figured that she wouldn't be found until morning.

Once Oldfield was safely
on his way and I was sure nobody was following him, I returned to the Folly, called Ron who like everyone else thought I was dead, told him what had happened to Mary and asked him to get over to the Hall with the Mini-Cooper, I'd meet him later.

“Not a word to anyone that I'm still alive. Call Henderson and ask him to stay with Mary at the hospital.”

“Mum's the word, Thomas. Don't worry I'll take care of everything. See you later,” he said and I sat in the darkness waiting for Danny's call.

Returning to the Hall was a strange experience, especially with Julie's presence so strong in the flat. The smell of her shampoo lingered in my imagination and once again I heard her bright laugh and saw her perfect naked body diving into the clean blue waters of Gozo so long ago. My cheeks felt wet and I realised I was crying. Somewhere in my black soul she stirred the emotions I had driven so far down I didn't know if I would ever feel love and compassion again. Those were dangerous feelings I could not afford right now. Later maybe, when this was all over and I had reached the end of this deadly journey, but not now.

We left Capri in a blow; Julie giggling excitedly as the catamaran easily shook the waves aside and headed for our first destination, Cyprus.

“ Enough adventure for you?”

“It beats the hell out of standing in front a damn camera all day.”

“I can imagine. Keep on this course and I'll rustle up some lunch for us. Any requests?”

“Surprise me.”

I seemed to spend a lot of my time on that cruise making exotic meals. Julie surprised me more than I surprised her. She was smart, funny, self assured and down to earth, the antithesis of a typical super-model. Money hadn't spoiled her, simply given her the freedom to be independent and pursue her dreams. Quite what those dreams were I had yet to find out. We had a lot in common, not our backgrounds, but how we viewed the world. Hers was a simple philosophy of enjoying every moment of her life. She was not constrained by any religious dogma and yet was the most compassionate and unselfish person I had ever met. It was no wonder I fell in love with her.

And now she was gone
, and all I felt was complete emptiness where my heart should be.

How long I sat in the dark I don't know, but finally my phone vibrated. It was Danny. I directed him to the Folly and waited until I saw two shadows. There was a low whistle I instantly recognised as Danny, and answered in kind. The shadows quickly ran to the Folly. I stayed in the darkness as Danny and the other man entered.

“Thomas?”

“Whose your friend,” I answered.

“Paul,” came the reply from the other man. “We met in Dundonald.”

“Last time we met, you gave me the gypsy's warning,” I said quietly keeping my Glock aimed at his head. “What's changed?”

“Not much. I trust Danny. You, I don't know.”

I lowered the gun. “Fair enough.”

“You two done?” Danny asked. “What's with the ambulance?”

“Somebody tried to kill my stepmother with an overdose.”

“Jesus Mother of Mary, these bastards don't give crap who they hurt, do they?”

“No they don't.” I noticed that they were both carrying SAS bergens and were dressed in all black outfits, with the latest light weight bullet proof vests, the same we used on special operations. “You going somewhere?” I asked.

“With you. Orders.”

“Huh. So I work for you now?”

“No. I'm coming along to verify your findings, Paul's back-up.”

“Your Bosses don't trust me?”

“They think you're a loose cannon.”

“And what do you think?”

“That you're my friend and you need me, besides I've always been better at this shit than you.” He grinned, white teeth flashing in the night. “Here.” He tossed me my black outfit as Paul snapped open a small plastic Pelican storm case as I stripped off my suit and shoes and dressed quickly, and showed me the contents. Nestled in shaped foam were two instruments.

“The left hand one is a small Geiger counter for radioactive readings. The right hand one is a Uranium Hexafluoride sampler,” Paul said crisply.

I looked at him, a glimmer of understanding flickering to light in my brain. “You're CBRN (Chemical, Biological Radiological and Nuclear Defence) aren't you?” I asked, to which he nodded. “You bastards know much more than you're letting on. What's in the bergens?”

“Plastique, and firepower. HK MP5SDs and Sig Sauer nine mils. ”

“Planning on obliterating the place?”

“Maybe.”

“I'm surprised your Bosses didn't want a full team on this.”

“I convinced them that if we got bumped, it'd be really difficult explaining to the PSNI exactly what we are doing,” Danny answered. “However they will be informed once we're on the ground and inside the building. We have about twenty minutes to get what we need and get out before they appear. We still don't know what the level of their internal security is and we've been pre-empted before.”

“Good thinking. I wondered how you managed to have a team already in country.”

“Had to pull them out, somebody in high places informed on us.” He looked at me carefully. “Remember? That’s how you got shot down in Nevada. Somebody talked.”

The adrenaline started coursing as I realised I'd missed working with Danny. “Is this like old times, or am I just a spare part?”

“Like old times,” he whispered.

The Ambulance left with siren blaring and within a few minutes, silence descended once more over Calder Hall.

“Let's get going then,” I whispered and led the way to the back of the Hall and the Eurocopter hangar. While Danny and Paul pulled the helicopter onto the helipad, I went into the Hall to find Ron. He was in the kitchen making a cup of tea and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw me, gun in hand, dressed in black.

“Dear God, I nearly had a heart attack. What's going on?”

“More than I can tell you, Ron. Just watch the Hall and give me updates on Mary's condition,” I said tossing him a burn phone. “Use this, not the house phones or your own.”

“Has all this got something to do with your father's murder?”

“Everything. I'll be back late tomorrow night. If you need any help....” I stopped as he held up his hand.

“I'll have some of my lads come over. Don't worry, we maybe local yokels but we know how to handle ourselves, besides I got the keys to the gun room,” he grinned.

“Thanks Ron.”

“Anytime,” he said and I left him pouring a shot of brandy into his coffee. His hand shook a little, but I knew he would lay down his life before he let anything happen to Mary or the Hall.

FIFTEEN

My father had set up a non-profit mercy flight program for all the Gunn Group corporate aircraft ten years ago, collecting organs for transplant, and emergency airlifts of critically injured or ill patients. So it was no surprise to Norwich ATC (air traffic control) that I was requesting to file an emergency flight plan to Sheffield for a transplant organ pick-up.

Once en-route I was going to change the flight plan to Blackpool where I wanted to refuel for the flight to Dundonald. It was a simple way of disguising our true intentions. The weather was in our favour, with a tailwind all the way which would increase our 120 knot cruise by another ten knots and give us just under a two-hour flight time. Allowing thirty minutes to refuel, we could be on the ground in Dundonald by three o'clock in the morning.

As I finished with Norwich ATC and settled into the flight, Paul and Danny closed their eyes and were soon sleeping as if safely tucked up in bed at home, oblivious to the noise and the tension I felt as I flew on into the night. It was strangely comforting, just like Afghanistan when we would sleep as the Apache or Puma helicopters sped us on our way to an LZ in the mountains. Gradually I relaxed as the familiar feeling of flying came back to my mind and muscle memory, and once established at two thousand feet I switched on the autopilot that Scandinavian Avionics had installed along with the EFIS system, and relaxed, thinking about what we were heading into and listening to the en-route frequency.