Influence (12 page)

Valera and Usher whispered to each other and then looked at Anauara, their disappointed expressions were hard to miss. In their minds, the two detectives had envisioned going after the mid-level dealers from the outset and not the little scum bags who they had to endure at times on Vice.

“What's up girls?” Richards enquired.

“Boss, I thought this Op was going to be exciting! This is the crap stuff that we try to get rid of back at Vice” Usher replied.

“You're right! However if we get the right scum bag who works for one of the Gang's mid-level dealers, then we'll be in there if we can make him grass! If we nick a mid-level guy without leverage, they'll keep their mouth shut and we'll be nowhere” Richards insisted.

The two detectives sheepishly nodded back at him, realising that they should have known better than to doubt Anaura's methods, even if they did seem a little boring.

“Trust me you two. All we need to do is find a Gang related little shit and bust him until he sings who his supplier is. It will be fun!” Anaura said with a smile. He then stood up and enthusiastically said “Let’s have it!” to help motivate them.

As the five officers left the briefing room to return to their desks, Anaura, in the essence of team morale building, offered to play the duties tea boy by making a round of drinks again. The officers glanced back at him with a grin. Richards stood up and offered to help Anaura, he had paid for the drink makings out of his own pocket, and with Anaura's lack of decent tea making skills, he didn't want the tea bags being wasted making a crap cuppa. The two detectives and Intel officers sat down together and began working through the intelligence relating to the small time dealers as Anaura and Richards left the room. The door had barely closed behind them before Anaura paused and put his left hand up to his head as if he had done something wrong.

“Ian, have you got your pass?”

“No, I thought you would've, especially after the rants you've been having about the card reader and everyone leaving the doors open or their passes on the desks!” Richards said with a smug grin.

“Great, I'm going to get grief from Usher on this one. I told her off about leaving the door open. And when she said that she was only getting a glass of water and would have been back within seconds, I had a go at her, telling her that it was lazy to leave her pass behind and then expect someone to open it for her!” Anaura said.

Anaura knocked on the office door, moments later Valera opened it with a confused expression as to why they had returned so quickly.

“Errrr, You've forgotten your bloody pass haven't you!? I can't believe it, after all the grief you dished out to me, you've gone and done the exact same thing!” Usher called out.

“Forgetting, is not the same as not bothering to take it at all!” He replied.

Usher simply smirked at him with satisfaction. There was nothing better than seeing your boss make the same mistake he had hauled you over the coals for only a few hours earlier. Anaura picked up his pass off his desk and waved it at Usher before he left the room for the tea making duties, laughing to himself. So far he had been having a great time with his team; but the real hard work was yet to come!

A Devilish Offer

Chapter Fifteen

Foster pulled into the West Ording Forest's car park that was located just off the East bound carriageway of the motorway before it entered the northern district of West Ording. Due to falling on hard times, he no longer had his pride and joy, the Lotus Elise. That had been sold shortly after his retirement to pay for a large amount of cocaine and prostitutes, neither of which lasted very long. Now he was driving a clapped out Vauxhall Vectra that somehow defied the laws of physics when it passed its MOT test. Regardless of whether his car was road worthy or not, Foster was most certainly not and should not have been driving after he stopped taking his medication and started on the drink.

Foster stopped his car at the end of the pitch black car park. Ahead of him all he could see was a never ending darkness through the thick forest, it was a very eerie place, even for someone like Foster. Ording forest was infamous for alleged Witch craft, UFO sightings, ghosts and most disturbing of all; Devil worship. It was a perfect choice for the likes of Drayson to carry out his devious and sinful plans.

After ten minutes of waiting, Foster began to doubt whether Drayson was going to show and began feeling a deep sense of anxiety as the darkness of the forest started to play tricks on his eyes. Other than his mental illness, what made the anxiety worse was that some kids, or devil worshippers, had hung wooden dolls, similar to ones in the film the Blair Witch Project, from the trees. Just as he was about to drive off, Foster suddenly saw a torch light breaking through the darkness of the thick trees to his left just out of the coverage of his headlights; it was Drayson. Foster switched off his engine and climbed out of his car to approach the silhouette of the man in front of him.

“I'm glad you turned up Anthony. Sorry I'm running a bit late. How are you doing?” Drayon said as he switched his torch off and leant on the shovel that was in his left hand.

“Fine, although I was close to leaving Sir, it's a bit spooky round here isn't it?” Foster responded.

“Yeah it is! But it's perfect for what we're going to discuss tonight. Oh, by the way mate, call me Rob.” he replied in a friendly manner that was less than genuine.

“So what's the score then?” Foster enquired with excitement and impatience.

Drayson smiled, his sly features only just visible in the moonlight that was breaking through the forest canopy.

“The Chief is going to give you an opportunity, a second chance, one that some could only dream of! It's a chance to get back into the Job with a clean slate. He and I want you for an operation, an extremely dangerous one, life or death stuff!” Drayson said with a sense of suspense and mystery in his voice.

“I'm in! Whatever it is, I'm in!” Foster blurted out with sheer excitement as if the offer might be retracted if he didn't answer instantly.

“But you don't know what the job is yet?” Drayson said in a concerned tone whilst screaming inside with joy at how Foster was there for the taking. With the power of his rank and Fosters love of being a copper plus his current mental state, he was certain that he would be able to influence him into playing his little game.

“OK Anthony; this is a STRICTLY off the record job, undercover type work. Usually we would call in the Special Forces for this sort of thing, but, with your background and experience there was no one who was more suitable!”

“I'm definitely the man for the job!” Foster said trying to display his utter commitment in the hope that Drayson would not decide to choose someone else; despite the fact that there were no other candidates.

Drayson silently nodded at him, before scanning his surroundings with suspicion. He took in a deep breath, preparing himself for the most dangerous, corrupt but highly necessary words that were about to leave his lips.

“We want you to take out each and every member of the Gang! You do know who I'm talking about don't you?”

Fosters facial expression changed to one of shock, causing Drayson to panic at the prospect that Foster might refuse. With the butterflies pounding away in his stomach, Drayson started to raise the shovel in his left hand with a sense of pure fear. If Foster tried anything or declined, he would have to hit him across his skull with all his strength to prevent him from ever repeating what had just been said to him. Foster acknowledged that he knew of them before asking Drayson if he meant what he thought he meant by taking them out, as in KILL THEM! Drayson pulled a serious expression before reeling off a story that had been rehearsed a hundred times over since their meeting in the pub. He informed Foster how the Gang's behaviour and activities were getting out of control and that they had started to become involved in child molestation and exploitation, women beating and were now suspected of funding Irish republican terrorism. It was of course all fictitious, but it had the required effect. Fosters breathing became deep and forced as the hatred boiled up inside him. Drayson only needed to mention crimes against children and women for him to become angry, but when he added terrorism to the mix, Foster would be incensed.

“They need stopping Anthony! We can't get them the normal way. They're just too powerful and well connected. With your help, we can finally rid the City of these deranged bastards, no failed cases, no corrupt judges or juries, and more importantly, no future release after half a sentence served for good behaviour. We need you mate, it has to be you, you're the only who could get the job done!” He pleaded with Foster.

Foster's thoughts raced with confusion and suspicion as he battled with doubts about whether what Drayson was saying could be real. Surely this sort of thing couldn't happen within the Police Service, he thought.

“I know this is a total mine field Anthony so I would fully understand if you were NOT up to it; maybe no copper is!? It would take an incredibly brave man to undertake such an operation!” Drayson said in a manipulative way.

When Foster heard that Drayson had doubts about his suitability, it severely angered him and for a moment he felt like going for him, but instead, he just snapped at him.

“OF COURSE I'M UP FOR IT! WHY WOULDN'T I BE? I just can't believe that this sort of thing goes on, why haven't I heard anything about it before?!”.

“Alright Anthony, I just had to be sure that's all, this ain't a game mate! Believe me, on a few rare occasions this shit does happen, but only when the Force has repeatedly failed to lock the target up! Think about it, if you had heard about these sort of operations before, they wouldn't have been that secret would they?! Sometimes in order to protect the public, the good people, we have to take out the bad people by committing a little evil ourselves, unfortunately it's the only way to deal with these horrible bastards!”

Sensing that Foster was almost his but still suffering with a little doubt, Drayson began telling him a few spurious stories about how similar operations had happened in the past and how they had been hidden from everyone but the highest ranks of the service and government. He continued explaining that no one liked doing it, but when certain criminals had become too powerful, the Police Service were really left with no other option. To hype Foster up even more, he remarked that if Mahood had not popped up on the radar when he did, they would have had him and Jennings neutralised to prevent mass murder! What better and more righteous reason could there be than protecting the innocent from deranged murderers! Foster slowly nodded in acknowledgement. Drayson had him, hook, line and sinker!

“What happens if I get caught, I mean, I would face murder charges wouldn't I?” Foster enquired.

“Well for starters, you're well trained and good enough not to get caught, and secondly all your DNA and fingerprints have been wiped from our records. And even if you did get caught, which you won't, this Op goes right to the top, the PM! Do you think he wants you to blab about this shit if you get sent down? Trust me you'd be looked after and out of the country quick time!” Drayson insisted.

“I guess not, I still can't believe this stuff happens, it's like..........”

“MI6, James Bond stuff, I know, it pretty much is! But that's why it takes a certain calibre of person to pull it off. We need an officer who has fired a shot before or even killed a man to ensure that they wouldn't clam up at the vital moment! We need them to have had experience of dealing with highly pressured situations and to be professional enough not to go around telling anyone about the job, not now, not ever. That type of officer is you Anthony! I need you, now, to wholly commit yourself to this Operation. If not you can go back to that shitty pub and drink your life away with everyone thinking you're crazy!” Drayson said with perfect execution, demonstrating why he had such a success with his influence on people.

Foster did not say a word and just stood there contemplating his opportunity, it was obvious that he had believed every single word. The sad truth was that the Anthony Foster of old, despite being super obedient to anyone of rank, would not have bought this story. But he wasn't the old Foster, he was now an extremely vulnerable and exploitable person that would do anything to get his much loved career back and prove to everyone once and for all that they had been wrong about him.

“That's my boy! I always knew you were a special sort of officer. I mean you always stood out over your colleagues on the firearms unit, even the ones with the Special Forces backgrounds, what's their names? Simpson and O'Keeffe!? Well there will be no doubt who's the best when you return after this!”

Foster felt a deep sense of pride washing over him. This Op was a blessing, a chance to show those snakes on the firearms unit that he was better than them and not a lunatic. He took a few seconds to fantasise about the moment when he would walk back into the Unit's office and tell them who he thought they really were..........................back stabbing bastards who used him as a scapegoat to protect themselves!

Drayson reminded Foster again that under no circumstances was he to talk to anyone but him about the operation, even the Chief, who would instantaneously pull the plug if Foster even looked at him. It had to be that secretive. Foster replied that he understood a hundred percent. He looked hard at Foster one more time before giving him a thumbs up and asking him to follow him. Fifty meters into the forest Drayson stopped and shone his light onto a tree where a large X had been carved into the bark. He then explained that about two foot under the mud below the X, an operational plan and all the necessary equipment to carry out the job were buried. He ordered Foster to never carry the op plan around with him and to bury it each time after he referred to it. He then handed him two small keys, one that would unlock the box and another for the padlock of a gate and stated that he would be briefed on it later. Just as Foster was about to take ownership of the keys, Drayson paused and said “Protect these with your life Anthony!”.

“Right, I guess I'll see you on the other side as they say. When this is all over, you'll be a copper again Anthony!! Although I must tell you that I doubt I would be able to get you back on the Firearms unit!” Drayson said as he walked Foster back to his car.

“I don't care, I would work anywhere if I was a copper again! Will this be the last time I see you until the job's done then?” Foster enquired.

“I'm afraid so son. It has to be that way. All the information that you need is buried in that box. Do you think MI6 agents report back to HQ all the time; they don't! It's the only way to make sure the job gets done clean and no one gets suspicious, remember you're undercover. Oh, and by the way, if there are any times and dates within that pack, they must be adhered to by the second, a lot of work has been put into this plan by the Government's National Crime Agency!”

“Sure, sure. I'll see you soon then Rob. When do you want me to start?” Foster said.

Drayson patted him on the shoulder in a sickening fatherly manner and told him that he was to return the following night to read the operational pack and that the job would start in three weeks. He commented how Foster might need to invest in a shovel too. Before Drayson walked off, he told Foster that it was good to see him looking clean and shaven again and urged him to get some beauty sleep as most of the operations would be conducted at night. Foster climbed into his car and started the engine. As he reversed he was able to see Drayson's face properly for the first time that evening in the headlights, his face pulling a sneering Janus-faced expression that Foster took for him being blinded by the headlights; he wasn't! As Foster drove off Drayson retreated to the darkness of the forest with his torch.

Less than a mile down the road, Foster began to have a panic attack at the realisation of what he had just agreed to, was it real or just in his head and could Drayson really be trusted. He swung his car into a lay-by.

SLAP. Foster smashed himself across the face, shouting at himself to 'man up'. This was his only lifeline, his only chance of getting back into the City Police Force, of being someone important again; he couldn't throw it away. Foster collected himself only for the panic set in once again.

SLAP, SLAP, SLAP. Foster repeatedly hit himself across the face, chastising himself for being a coward and a loser. The torn emotions and thoughts continued raging for another five minutes until he burst into tears.

“Pull yourself together Anthony, you pathetic little cry baby! We'll never get what we want if you're always crying like a scared little bitch!!Listen, they don't want you, they despise you, but if you kill for them, they will love you!”  Foster acknowledged the voice that came from the back seat, pulled himself together and drove off.