Go Out With A Bang! (16 page)

Ferret
slapped Nick on the back. 'This is my baby. Change her nappy, feed
her, put her to bed.'

'She'll
be walking and saying daddy by the time you wake up.'

'Okay.
Just remember who her daddy is. Goodnight, Nick.

'Goodnight, Ferret.'

Chapter 51

The next
morning, Ferret took two lifesaving black coffees into the old
library. He couldn't help a satisfied chuckle at the sight of Nick,
slumped over the computer, fast asleep. He knew that look. That
neck would take all day to straighten out. That and the aching
lower back, lifeless buttocks and wobbly legs. Been there, done
that.

'Morning, Nick.'

'Hermm.
Hey? What?'

'Coffee?'

'Will it
save my life?'

'I'd
have added sugar if I'd known it was that serious. Get
anywhere?'

'I've
identified the ancient language. I only had to go through thirty
seven to find it. An old Aramaic one.'

'Brilliant. Well done. I'm really impressed. And you found a
common code worked with it?'

'That
was easy once the source language had been identified, then
translated into English. Two words kept going round and round. The
answers kept coming up the same.'

'That
it? Two words?'

Nick
didn't bother opening his eyes as he slurped the pungent black brew
as he handed a scrap of paper to the Ferret.

'These
are two big words.'

'Wanna
double check?'

'Mind if
I do? I wouldn't want to offend you.'

Nick
said,'Man who brings life saving black elixir to a dying man? I
insist.'

'Shove
over.' Ferret let his fingers fly over the path pioneered by Nick
and arrived at the same destination. 'Shit.'

'Ah!
We're on the same page.'

'I'd be
worried with one word or the other, but both words
together?'

Nick tapped the screen.'We both
came to the same conclusion. Biological
and
nuclear. Talk about belt and braces.
They're going to kill us, then make us suffer.'

Ferret
shook his head. 'Not on my watch.'

* * *

'Listen
to them, Steve. Ferret and Nick know what they're talking
about.'

'Sandra. This is way too big
for us. Nuclear bombs
and
biological weapons?'

'I tried
the C I A before. They laughed at me. They said even if there's
truth in it, they can handle it. I'm to butt out. I'm not about to
do that, while they don't believe me. Besides. We are not
alone.'

Fred
Ducket looked at his mother in law. Was this a path they both
wanted to walk along? 'Sandra. Steve's right. We can't do this by
ourselves. It's too darned big for you and me.'

'I spoke
to Bernie.'

That
shook Ferret. 'You spoke to Bernie? You are
unbelievable.'

'Wow,'
said Steve. 'Who the hell is Bernie?'

Ferret
started, 'Bernie? He's only my.....'

'Ferret.
Stop that,' said Sandra. 'And you know why. Especially
now.'

It was
hard but Ferret stopped himself. 'Poppy?'

Sandra
saw it coming and dodged the bullet. 'Not now.'

Ferret
looked at a confused Steve and Nick. How much should he reveal?
There was a look he and Sandra shared, lost on Steve and Nick, but
one that spoke volumes between himself and his mother in law. So
many emotions went through his mind, his soul. He had deserted his
wife, and her mother sat before him; her eyes pleading for him to
button it. He had to get out of there.

'Bernie
is...' The three looked at him; two for answers; one hoping for his
silence. 'Back up. Very useful back up. We get stuck, Bernie will
pull us out.'

He had
to get out because he was afraid of what his mouth would say.
'Poppy?'

Sandra
nodded and managed a weak smile. 'Missing you. Do this for her
and...'

'And?'

'And for
all of us. The whole bloody world.'

He
walked out of the room. There was nothing else to say.

Chapter 52

Steve
Telford had work to do for three days. He loved flying his chopper,
but had scaled down the business while they had been organising
their criminal activities. In his mind, he couldn't see failure. It
had been a good, well executed plan and he should have been able to
retire without a care for the future. Now he had to make a living
again. Fortunately, it was a good time for crop spraying in the
area so he had a couple of jobs booked up.

The
chopper was parked at the back of the mansion, and at six thirty on
a clear sunny morning, he was in the air. His baby was a red and
blue Robinson R-44, bought in ninety seven, and finally paid for
five years later. The power-plant was the Lycoming six cylinder
flat engine with fuel injectors. He had removed the two rear seats
to lighten the load for fuel economy. It was fitted with the Apollo
DTM4 spraying system. The tanks were fixed to the belly of the
chopper, well below the main rotor, in front of the rotor down
wash, the clean air helping to evenly disperse the
spray.

The farm
he was to spray was only eight miles from the mansion, and he knew
the owner well. He took off with the tanks full of the spray
solution, and knew exactly what he was required to do. One
advantage of the service he provided was to supply the solutions as
part of the job, rather than the farmer having to store the
dangerous chemicals.

It was
one of the advantages of living at the mansion with huge
outbuildings in which to store the chemicals. This gave him the
edge over much of the competition.

He
reached the farm, and allowing for the direction of the slight
breeze, activated the pumps that forced the mix along the booms at
twenty pounds per square inch of pressure. He stayed between
fifteen and twenty feet above the ground, flying back and forth,
overlapping so as to cover all the crops. It would take five trips
to do the job.

As he
flew, he thought about the strange course of events that had turned
his world upside down. His heart had almost stopped when a woman
and a man had brazenly walked into the rented apartment, minutes
before the final part of the plan was put into operation. All eight
of them had attacked the pair. He had gone for the woman, and all
he could recall were her hands, moving like lightning, a slight
pressure on the side of his neck, and then waking up chained to the
others, with explosives under their chairs.

How had
they done that? He had intended to ask her how and when they had
planted the explosives. The empty inner city apartment had been
rented for a month and paid for in cash. Whatever they needed for
the job was stored there. The only furniture were the seats and
somehow, the extra security locks had been breached and explosives
had been expertly wired up underneath.

It was
crazy that a woman with a geeky young bloke could do all they did.
How had they tracked their every move? Where had she learned to be
so deadly to go up against eight men, mostly bigger then herself,
and without even breaking a sweat, defeating all of them with
minimum effort?

As he
flew back and forth, returning to the mansion to refill the tanks
and back to the farm again, he thought about the woman known only
as Sandra. He had admired her body as she swam expertly in the
pool, hardly breaking the surface of the water with her precise,
delicate strokes. Her body was toned, but not muscular. Her
physical strength didn't come from muscles, but from her mind and
her spirit, somewhere deep inside her. When she fought, she didn't
think about it, just reacted and used her opponents size and weight
against them.

She was
what, five six? A lean hundred and ten pounds. Her breasts were
small and tempting and her legs slim and shapely. It was her dark
brown eyes that haunted him the most. She would hold his gaze, and
he would lose himself in them, wondering what life and secrets hid
behind them. Some of her life was clear to see, in the scars on her
body. He was enough of a man of the world to know those scars were
not from simple accidents everyone suffered from time to
time.

Her
scars were her badges of courage, permanent reminders of each
adventure. More then anything those scars were who she
was.

Steve
Telford had spent so much time thinking about this amazing woman,
his day's work was finished before he had realised it. The rotor
slowed to a stop and he got out and walked across the lawn to the
rear entrance of the huge house, eager to see the woman who was
filling his mind so much.

He would
spend the evening relaxing, perhaps admiring her as she swam in the
pool, the tight costume emphasising her beauty. She would torment
and tease him, unintentionally, perhaps completely unaware of how
each word, every glance and smile with those kissable lips and deep
dark eyes turned him inside out.

They
would sit together, her naked arms with those tiny round scars, so
close he could reach out and gently stroke her skin. He thought
perhaps, deep down she liked him, maybe even wanted the caress of
his arms, his lips upon hers, his hands exploring and satisfying
her. He could only dream.

Chapter 53

'You two
look pleased with yourselves.'

'We had
a good day, Steve,' said Nick, enjoying the spaghetti bolognese.
'Made some real progress.'

'Still
much to do,' said Ferret. 'We are fairly sure we are dealing with
forty seven of them. They seem to be scattered around, but all
within one hundred miles of the city centre. They have their own
areas of expertise, engineering, physics, biology, you name it,
they have it covered.'

'But you
can't pinpoint their physical addresses?'

'Not
specifically,' said Nick. 'But we have a few clues to the
whereabouts of the coordinator. Trouble is, we go sniffing about,
we risk tipping them off.'

'We only
have two more days before the others get here,' said Sandra. 'We
need solid information to put a plan together, or you and I will be
on our own.'

'Not on
our own,' said Ferret. 'We have Bernie.'

There
was an awkward silence between Sandra and Ferret that Steve picked
up on. He thought better of asking again who this Bernie character
was. There was clearly something going on between the two of them.
Perhaps it was just the tension of the situation surfacing. He was
keeping out of that.

It was
the same routine the following day, Steve glad to be out in the
chopper, earning a living. Finally the spraying job was finished
and they could focus on the mission. It was Thursday. Sandra was in
the front garden, sitting on a bench by a large ornamental goldfish
pond with a huge fountain spattered with bird droppings.

She had
her back to Steve who was so tempted to go and sit by her, sharing
her moment of solitude. Something told him she needed this quiet
time. Nick and Ferret were busy deciphering the clues, lost in
cyberspace. Steve felt out of it in his own home. Wanting to
contribute he did a stock-take of food and drink and set off to do
the shopping. The evening was subdued, almost uncomfortable, more
so for Steve. After spending a couple of hours on maintenance of
the chopper, he turned in for an early night.

* * *

Sandra
lay alone on her bed, watching the small television on a side
table. It was the evening news, showing the International
Conference Centre. The female reporter stood across the street from
the main entrance.

'This is
as close as we are allowed. The centre will be home to ten leaders
of the Western world. Security has been tightly coordinated between
the various overseas agencies working with our own. Our air-force
will be using radar to ensure that the no fly zone is adhered to.
Our police are providing policing of the surrounding area and extra
officers have been drafted in until the end of the conference. Our
army are fully ready to respond to any situation. In a statement
from our Internal Security Service, everything humanly possible has
been done to ensure the conference will be trouble free and
successful. The conference is scheduled to start this Monday. Thus
is Julie Farringday for Chanel Nine news.'

Sandra
turned off the television. The security seemed to be on top of
things. All contingencies had been considered. No stone unturned.
Enough to impress most people. Not her. Certainly not the
terrorists. Everything the security services had done would be
anticipated. What couldn't be anticipated was how the security
would be breached. Even she could only guess what their plans would
be. Only Ferret and Nick could find out for sure.

By
Friday evening, if they didn't have more to go on, the others
wouldn't buy it, and who could blame them. She and Ferret would
thank them very much for their hospitality, and they would be on
their way.

Her son
in law would go home to his wife and baby to be, a baby he knew
nothing about. He would probably hate her for withholding that from
him. Again she would be alone. She thought about Steve Telford.
Trying to deny her feelings for him was becoming increasingly
difficult. The ice maiden act was melting. She longed for his
touch, to feel his strong hands on her skin, his lips on hers,
exploring her body, the manly smell of him,feeling...feeling like a
woman again.