Go Out With A Bang! (20 page)

'That's
a whole can of snakes you're opening,' said Carlisle.

'You
saying I'm wrong?'

'Hell,
no. I'm just saying, stock up on anti venom first.'

Chapter 64

For
Ferret and Nick it had been a tedious process, testing their
staying power to the maximum. They had made an early start and had
selected and eliminated the possible launch sites, one by one.
Several hours later, they had listed a total of seventy two
possible launch sites, between one and two miles of the conference
centre, reachable by road, with sufficient elevation. It also
became abundantly obvious, they couldn't check them all out without
help. It was time for a meeting. In the lounge, all eyes were on
the whiteboard.

'This,'
said Ferret, 'Is the city. Here is the conference centre, on the
edge of the city, three miles from the airport. We know they are
intending to use a mobile missile launcher. It has a laser guided
system. From that, we deduce the launch site probably wouldn't be
more than two miles from the centre. It also needs to be a
reasonably elevated site. It took awhile, but we have broken it
down to seventy two possible launch sites.'

'That
all,' said Frank. 'No worries, then.'

'Hey,'
said Steve. 'Pull your bloody head in. I think these two have done
a brilliant job.'

Frank
said, 'I'm just saying, there's no way we can check all those sites
out just us. Tomorrow is the third day of the conference. We've
been lucky the place is still standing. We need to do something
with this information.'

'He's
right,' said Titch.

'I
agree,' said Sandra. 'We need backup. Bernie.'

Steve
said, 'Who the hell is this Bernie?'

Sandra
grinned at him. 'With your recent track record, you don't want to
know. Leave Bernie to me.'

* * *

Mother
in law and son in law stared at each other in Sandra's bedroom.
Sandra had been expecting it.

Ferret
said, 'I'm coming with you.'

Sandra
shook her head. 'No. I'm going alone.'

'I could
just take off anyway, you know?'

She knew
that. 'I'm quite surprised you haven't before now.'

'This is
killing me, Sandra. I've gone along with this but I need to see
Poppy.'

'Three
more days, Fred. That's all we're talking about. After that, you go
home.'

'You
don't need me any more. You know what they are doing, where they
might be. Go be Sheriff Sandra and round up Deputy Bernie and go
get the bad guys.'

'One
question. How did we find Steve and his family?'

'Some
computer work. Some leg work.'

'And how
did we find the terrorists?'

'Same.
Computer and leg work.'

'Right.
And we are dealing with a bunch of highly intelligent and
technically capable terrorists, probably paranoid, looking for
trouble.'

'I've
heard this argument before. You don't want to risk even the
slightest possibility of any connection between us and our family.
But come on. That is such an infinitesimally remote risk, is there
even a risk at all? I'm seriously beginning to wonder.'

Sandra
held his shoulders in her hands and looked him in the eyes. 'This
isn't just your wife. We are talking about my brother and daughter.
I've given up my life with them to keep them safe. Are you telling
me you can't give them three more days?'

Fred
looked at the strangest mother in law a man could possibly have.
'Fine. Right. I'll do it. But this is the end. After this, I'm with
Poppy for the rest of my life.'

'You'd
damn well better be, Fred Ducket. Goodnight.'

Chapter 65

'How the
hell does she do these things?'Bernie asked himself.

The
envelope was on the seat of his car as he got in it for the short
drive to the police headquarters. Somehow, his sister had unlocked
the garage, hadn't tripped the alarm, opened his car and dropped
the envelope inside without tripping the car alarm, locked it all
up and disappeared into the shadows of the night. It was her
calling card. He opened the envelope. “P. 9 A M. S.” Dressed like a
police chief? Not a good idea. He hurried back into the house,
almost bumping into Poppy on her way to the bathroom.

'Morning, Uncle Bernie.'

'Morning. I just gotta...in there...don't mind me.' He
grabbed a long worn raincoat and a woolly hat from the bedroom and
ran back to the car and drove off to the park. 'Great,' he told
himself as he checked his appearance in the wing mirror of the car.
'I'm going into a park looking like a dirty old man.'

He made
his way to the bench just one minute before nine. He sat down. He
didn't look around for Sandra. He didn't have to wait long, before
he heard a strange shuffling sound. A walking stick tap tap tapped
a painful beat on the tar sealed path.

Bernie
could feel the pain in that slow walk, each tap emphasising the
agony of her every step. An old lady with a bad limp and a walking
stick hobbled along the path. She was carrying a brown greasy paper
take away bag. She paused in front of him, wobbled uncertainly on
arthritic legs, and dropped her stick. Bernie got up and helped
her, picking up the stick. The bag was thrust in his
hand.

'This
will explain everything,' she whispered. 'Hurry, Bernie. We're
running out of time.' She limped along one way, Bernie in the
opposite direction.

He took
off for his car, only checking the contents of the greasy bag
briefly as he got in. It was enough to make a hurried call to his
secretary. By the time he got there, Andersen, Morris and Crowe
were waiting in his office. Passing P A Monica Nolan and secretary
Amy Jones, he gave the papers to Amy. 'Good morning. Three copies,
please.'

'Nice
coat,' said Andersen.

The
Chief had forgotten he was even wearing it. He threw the grubby
coat and hat into the corner of the room. 'Sit.' They sat. Amy
entered, handing him the copies. 'Thank you. Hold all calls.' To
the detective's he said, 'I've only glanced at this. You can guess
where it come from.'

In
silence, they studied the information. It was a lot to take in.
Crowe said it first.

'Shit.'

'Any
comments not involving four letter words?' the Chief
asked.

'Sandra?' said Andersen. 'There's six letters.'

Morris
summed it up for them. 'The conference has two days to go with
today. We have a whole bunch of terrorists with a mobile missile
launcher with explosive missiles, nerve gas missiles and sorry, but
shit, a thermonuclear missile and seventy two possible launch
sites. I'm guessing Ferret put this together. Sirs. Tell me what we
have to do?'

The
Chief didn't beat about the bush. 'You're the detective's. You have
more clues than you can shake a truncheon at. You have every cop,
suit or uniform, for one hundred miles at your disposal. One
question.'

'Sir?'
said Andersen.

'Why are
you three still here?'

* *
*

In
Andersen's office, three detectives minds went into
warp-drive.

'Evacuate the bloody conference centre,' said Crowe. 'It's a
no brainer.'

Morris
had expected that. 'Vince. These jokers are watching their every
move. Move people out, the best that could happen is the terrorists
just vanish. Worst thing is they lob those damn missiles into the
heart of the city, just because they can.'

'How
many officers can we throw at this including suits,' said
Andersen.

'Tactical as well?' asked Morris.

'Including anybody who can actually stand up without falling
over.'

Morris
made a quick head count. 'Drag in all the shifts, between two
hundred and eighty and three hundred and ten. Can we include the
army?'

'Why the
hell not?' said Andersen. 'But just very top brass need to know,
only. The army will be needed to deal with any missiles going off.
If we have hundreds of soldiers marching around the possible launch
sites, the terrorist's will see them coming a mile away, do a
runner and we'll be for ever wondering when they're going to raise
their ugly heads again. My question is this. How do we get our
asses around seventy two possible launch sites, without having them
ducking and diving from us?'

Crowe
came up with, 'Seventy two undercover cops, one for each site.
Like, dressed in civvies. Walking dogs, pushing prams.'

Morris
added, 'All with phones to mobilise everyone the second they see
anything suspicious.'

'I like
it,' said Andersen, 'Drag everybody in here and let's not hang
about.'

Forty
minutes later and the cafeteria was full of curious men and women,
the thin blue line that every day, put everything on the line to
keep the rest of us safe. Andersen took the floor.

'Listen
up. This is probably the most important case we have ever handled.
Success depends on your common sense and professionalism. Also,
keeping a lid on the information you're about to get is imperative,
so reveal nothing to anyone. I'll keep this as simple as possible.
As we are all well aware, at the International Conference Centre,
are ten of the worlds leaders, including our own Prime Minister. We
have it confirmed that we have terrorists in our country, armed
with various missiles to attack the centre.'

He let
the gasps and comments die down. 'Quiet, please. We have
information pinpointing the missile launch site to any one of
seventy two possibilities. That's where you all come in. You will
all dress in your most casual street clothes. You will take one of
these lists on white paper. And you'll see your names are against a
number.

We need
to rotate so we don't look obvious. On the hour, go to the next
numbered place on the list. Those not on the white list will be on
the blue paper list. Those on the blue list, go home and rest.
You'll take over from those on the white list. This is what we are
looking for. A truck like this. Under some sort of cover on the
back will be something like that.'

There
was a chorus of expressions of disbelief.

'If you
see this truck, do not approach it. Calmly get away from there and
call my number. We'll be waiting around the clock, and we will deal
with it from there. I expect you know what's at stake here. Your
country is relying on every one of you. In fact, not just your
country. The whole world. Off you go.'

Chapter 66

The
whole day had Carlisle's head in a spin. There was no escape. He
had agreed to incarcerate himself in the conference centre so the
other leaders didn't feel disadvantaged. Naturally, Chrissie had
been less than impressed, and had decided to have a break with her
parents in the meantime. For all that, Carlisle decided to be
focused on the job in hand, and feel totally deprived for being
forced to enjoy fine wining and dining in tax funded luxury. It was
a tough job, but somebody had to do it.

lashes
of groundbreaking inspiration were few and far between. By the end
of the fourth day, nothing much practical had been achieved. Tweaks
and promises to trade agreements and tariffs were as far as they
got. The various merits of belt tightening against printing money
were hotly debated with nothing mutually conclusive agreed upon. It
would be hard to put a positive spin on it all for the benefit for
the closing day media coverage.

After
another tedious nine hours, Carlisle joined President Milliner in a
drink. Milliner was a down to earth rags to riches man Carlisle
could relate to, even his home spun philosophy. Carlisle smiled
patiently as Milliner told it as it was, or at least his rendition
of it. That didn't encourage Carlisle much.

'I tell
you, Randy. Show-pony conference or not, I'd have thought we could
have come up with something more significant. I'll not be looking
forward to talking to the media tomorrow.'

Milliner
said, 'I guess we are still thinking locally, not globally. Maybe
it's true people get the leaders they deserve.'

'Poor
devils. Goodnight, Randy.'

* * *

Morris,
Crowe, Andersen and the Chief shared the hours in Andersen's office
by the contact phone. The reception had been told to keep all other
calls destined for that phone to be relayed elsewhere. They played
darts. Debated if they were handling it the right way. They ate.
Morris lost to Andersen at chess. Drank tea, coffee, dozed. Crowe
even spent some of the time doing sit-ups and crunches. Around the
clock, officers rotated, pushing prams, walking dogs, jogging,
cycling. The white list team were replaced by the blue list team.
And still the detectives waited by the telephone.

Chapter 67

It was
time to strike out at the Western world. Prayers had been said.
Probably their last prayers and that was fine. They were all
prepared to give up their lives for the cause. Their reward would
come in heaven.