Authors: Andy McNab
Remote Control (23 page)
‘I’ve bought loads of stuff.’ I started diving into the bags and dragging things out. ‘I’ve got you some books, some colouring books, some crayons . . .’
I laid them on the bed and stepped back, waiting for some form of appreciation. Instead, she looked at me as if I was some sort of madman.
‘I’ve done those.’
I hadn’t known, I thought a colouring book was a colouring book. I’d quite enjoyed doing my dot to dot. ‘Never mind, I’ve got you some sandwiches and some Coke, and you’re to drink as much as you can because I need the bottle for something.’
‘Aren’t we going out for something to eat?’
‘There’s some biscuits in there . . .’ I pointed into the bag.
‘I don’t want any more cookies. I hate it in here all the time.’
‘We’ve got to stay in the hotel today. Remember, we’ve got people who are looking for us at the moment, and I don’t want them to find us. It won’t be for long.’
I suddenly thought, Shit, what if she knows her home number and starts using the phone? While she was pouring out some Coke, with both hands around the bottle that seemed as big as she was, I stretched around the back of the small cupboard between the two beds and pulled out the telephone jack.
I looked at my watch. It was 4.30; the best part of five hours to go until Pat made contact again.
I wanted to get the camera sorted out. I wanted it working at first light; I might even be able to get in an hour of filming before last light today.
Kelly got up and looked out of the window, a bored, caged-up kid.
I poured myself some Coke and said, ‘Do you want some more of this before I tip it away? I need the bottle.’
She shook her head. I went into the bathroom and tipped the remainder down the sink. I ripped the wrapper off and, with the scissors I’d just bought, I made a cut at the top, where the bottle started to curve into the neck. I also cut at the base, so I was left with a cylinder. I cut a straight line up it and pushed the resulting rectangle of plastic down flat to get rid of the curve. I cut a circle, by first trimming off the corners of the rectangle, then developing the shape. That was me, ready to burgle.
I came back into the room and checked the leads and made the camera ready for use, by battery or mains.
‘What are you doing, Nick?’
I’d been hoping she wasn’t going to ask, but I should have known better by now. I had a lie all prepared. ‘I’m going to make a film so you can say hello to Mummy, Daddy and Aida because you said you were bored. Here, say hello.’
I got the camera to my eye.
‘Hello, Mommy, Daddy and Aida,’ she said into the camera. ‘We are in a hotel room waiting to come home. I hope you get well soon, Daddy.’
‘Tell them about your new clothes,’ I said.
‘Oh yes.’ She walked over to the wall. ‘This is my new blue coat. Nick got me a pink one also. He knows my favourite colours are pink and blue.’
‘I’m running out of tape, Kelly. Say goodbye.’
She waved. ‘Bye, Mommy; bye, Daddy; bye, Aida. I love you.’
She came skipping over to me. ‘Can I see it now?’
Another lie. ‘I haven’t got the leads to plug in the TV. But I’m seeing Pat soon, maybe he’ll get some for me.’
She went back to her glass of Coke a very happy bunny. She picked up a crayon, opened the colouring book and was soon engrossed. Good; it meant I was able to put a tape into the camera without her seeing.
I picked up two plastic coffee cups, got the rest of the kit together, put it all in the video bag, and said, ‘Sorry about this, but . . .’
She looked at me and shrugged.
I made my way up to the roof. The rain was holding off – the aircraft and traffic noise wasn’t.
The first thing I wanted to do was get into the lift housing; I needed to know whether or not I could get mains power.
I got out my circle of plastic and put it in the crease of the green door. I pushed and turned it, making it work its way through the twists and turns of the door frame until it hit against the lock itself. The door was there to keep people out for safety reasons, not to protect something of value, so it was a simple lock to defeat.
Once inside I turned on my mini Maglite torch, and the first thing I saw was a bank of four power points.
I looked up at the ceiling. The shed was made up of panels of quarter-inch mild steel bolted onto a frame. I got the pliers and undid two of the bolts just enough to lift up a bit of the roof. Then I got the power lead from the camera, pushed it through the gap and ran it down against the wall. It didn’t look out of place amongst all the other shit. I plugged the lead into one of the power points.
I kept the door open to give me some light while I prepared the camera. I got two bin liners and put one inside the other, then put the camera inside, pushing it against the plastic at the bottom until the lens just burst through. I then took the two plastic coffee cups, split them both down the sides, cut the bottoms off both, put them into one another, and fed them over the lens as a hood. That was going to keep off the rain, but at the same time let enough light into the lens so the thing could work. I used gaffer tape to keep everything in position.
I got on the roof with the camera and plugged it in. I lay flat and looked through the viewfinder, waiting for it to spark up and show me what the lens could see. I wanted a reasonable close-up of the staircase leading up to the main door.
Once it had jumped into life I focused the lens, got it bang on target and pressed Play. I tested Stop and Rewind, then Play again. It worked. I tucked in the plastic, making sure not to dislodge the camera, pressed Record and walked away.
18
I went and bought a dustbin-sized pizza, which we sat down and ate in front of the television, with the telephone plugged in and on charge.
Then it was just a matter of hanging around with indigestion, waiting for Pat to call and the four-hour tape to finish. It was dark now, but I wanted it to run the full four hours: one, to check that the system worked and, two, to see what the quality was like at night.
Both of us were bored. Kelly had endured death by TV, death by pizza, death by Mountain Dew and Coke. She wearily picked up the adventure book and said, ‘Can you read me some of this?’
I thought, All right, it’s just a collection of stories, it won’t take that long to read a couple. I soon discovered it was one continuous adventure, with optional endings to each chapter. I was reading to her about three kids in a museum. One had gone missing – no-one knew where – when the story just stopped. At the bottom of the page it said, ‘Do you want to go to page 16 and follow him through the magic tunnel, or do you want to go and see Madame Edie on page 56, who might tell you where he is? It’s your choice.’
‘Where do you want to go?’ I said.
‘Through the tunnel.’
Off we went. After about three-quarters of an hour and changing tack about eight times, I thought we must be getting to the end soon. It took nearly two hours to get through it. At least she had fun.
The room was warm and I still had all my kit on, ready to go. I kept dozing off, waking up every half-hour or so to the sound of
The Simpsons
or
Loony Tunes
. One time, I woke up and looked down at my jacket. It had come undone and my pistol was exposed. I looked across at Kelly, but she didn’t even give it a second glance; maybe she was used to her dad wearing one.
The Simpsons
or
Loony Tunes
. One time, I woke up and looked down at my jacket. It had come undone and my pistol was exposed. I looked across at Kelly, but she didn’t even give it a second glance; maybe she was used to her dad wearing one.
I opened up a can of Mountain Dew and looked at my watch. It was only eight fifteen; I’d go and get the first video in about a quarter of an hour’s time, put in a new tape, and then wait for Pat’s call.
When the time came I said, ‘I’m just popping out for five minutes to get some drink. Do you want some?’
She looked quizzical and said, ‘We’ve got loads here.’
‘Yeah, but they’re warm. I’ll bring some cold ones.’
I went up to the roof. It was damp and drizzling now. I opened up the back of the plastic bag, pressed the eject button and quickly exchanged tapes ready for the morning.
I came downstairs, passed our room and got another couple of cans of drink. Coca-Cola shares had probably rocketed over the last few days.
Clueless
came on, the TV series she’d told me she loved. I was amazed as I listened to her reciting all the catchphrases off pat: ‘Loser . . . double loser, moron . . . whatever!’ Now I knew where a lot of her sayings came from.
came on, the TV series she’d told me she loved. I was amazed as I listened to her reciting all the catchphrases off pat: ‘Loser . . . double loser, moron . . . whatever!’ Now I knew where a lot of her sayings came from.
At last it was just 3 minutes to go before Pat was due to check in. I went into the bathroom, closed the door and listened for
Clueless
. Nothing.
Clueless
. Nothing.
Dead on time the phone rang.
‘Hello?’
‘All right, mate? Thanks for the sub!’
We both had a quiet laugh.
‘Do you know what floor they’re occupying?’
There was a short pause, then, ‘Second floor.’
‘OK. Any chance of more money? I need a big wad, mate.’
‘I could get you about ten grand, but not until tomorrow, or possibly the day after. You’re welcome to it until you’re sorted – and I take it you’ve got a way out?’
‘Yeah,’ I lied. It was for the best. If he got lifted he could only give false information, and they’d start looking at airports and docks instead of mincing around Washington.
Then I said, ‘I need more contact in case I manage to find out anything about the building and things start changing rapidly. What about 1200, 1800 and 2300 – is that OK?’
‘All right, mate. Your little friend and her family have been in the media a lot lately. Is there anything else?’
‘No, mate. Be careful.’
‘And you. See yer!’
I turned off the telephone, went back into the bedroom and put it back on the charger. I didn’t know if Kelly had heard anything or not, but she was quiet and seemed uneasy.
I got the video player set up, pushed in the tape, and tuned in the television.
Kelly was watching intently.
‘Do you fancy playing a game?’ I said. ‘If not, I’ll just do it on my own.’
‘OK.’ It beat counting cars on the highway. ‘But you said you didn’t have any leads to put into the TV.’
She’d got me on that one. ‘I bought some when I went out.’
‘So why can’t we see the video for my mommy?’
‘Because I’ve already posted it. Sorry.’
She looked at me a little confused.
‘We’re going to watch this tape of a building,’ I went on. ‘It’s got people going in and out of it. Now, there’s going to be some famous people going in there, and people that you know, like friends of Daddy’s and Mummy’s and people that I know. We’ve got to see how many people we can each recognize. Whoever sees the most is the winner. You want to play?’
‘Yeah!’
‘You’ve got to be really quick, because I’m going to fast-forward it. Every time you see somebody moving, you’ve got to tell me, then I’ll stop and rewind, and we’ll have a look at it.’
I took some of the hotel stationery and a pencil and off we went. I had to use the button on the machine to fast-forward because there was no remote. I sat on the floor, under the player by the TV. Kelly’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. I was quite pleased with the tape. The quality wasn’t bad at all; you could tell the difference between this and a home video, and I’d managed to get full-length pictures of the people covering about two-thirds of the screen.
‘Stop, stop, stop!’ she shrieked.
I rewound and had a look. Kelly had made me stop at the first hint of movement. There were a few people entering. I didn’t recognize any of them. Kelly was sure that man number three was from a pop group called Backstreet Boys.
She got into the game more and more. Everyone seemed to be famous. I logged them all, using the counter.
298: two men, one with a long light coat, one with a blue coat.
People think that being a baby spy is all James Bond, sports cars and casinos. I’d always wished the fuck it was. The reality is sheer hard graft to get information, then sitting down and working out what it is you’ve gathered. The fact that two people walk up a set of stairs means fuck all. It’s interpreting what’s going on that’s important – identifying them, their body language, what happened before, what you think is going to happen later on. So you have to log everything, just in case, at a later date, it might be important. Give me a sports car any day.
The screen was slowly getting darker. The ambient street light was helping, but it was quite hard to see faces and we were losing colour; I could tell the difference between a man and a woman and their ages but only just.
It came to the end of the working day and everything began to close down; people going home were throwing switches and the light dwindled. In the end there were lights only in the hallway, reception area and corridors.
I left the tape running at normal speed. What I now wanted to know was whether there was a night watchman around, but I couldn’t see anyone.
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