Scion (20 page)

With only ten minutes to their target
, the final mission directions came through. A target designation was received automatically by the offensive weapons system and in conversation with the aircraft’s autopilot, the two systems agreed on a slight deviation in their heading to maximise potential success. The pilots, oblivious to the target designation, could only watch as the systems took control.

Five minutes after their
change of course, a slight tremor in the airframe alerted the pilots to a weapon being launched. The AIM-120D quickly accelerated and before they could see the intended target for the dummy weapon, the auto pilot had already commenced their turn for home.

The AIM-120D
, or ‘slammer’ as it was referred to by pilots, fundamentally changed the role of the supersonic strategic bomber. With a 112 mile intercept capability, the air to air slammer made the B-1R the largest fighter bomber in the US Air Force. Although still not capable of dog fighting its way out of trouble, the MACH 2.2 capability more than made up for that deficiency as did the long range capability of the slammer.

As the aircraft settled into its homeward
journey, the offensive weapon system alerted them to a successful mission with a ‘target destroyed’ message. Both congratulated themselves although they did wonder why; other than powering the engines for take off and ensuring a safe landing, neither had done very much.

***

A hundred miles away, a Gulfstream G550 registration G-FRDS had ceased to exist. The impact of the MACH 4 missile would have sufficed without the 30lb high explosive. It had been about to commence its descent to Kota Kinabalu and was still some way out over the South China Sea when it literally vaporised. Small sections of wreckage plummeted 35,000 feet spreading themselves across miles of empty ocean, ensuring nobody would ever know the cause of its destruction.

Ernst had certainly
ensured that Clark wouldn’t kill their man. Ernst had also left a message for DS Kelly. Asking his secretary to pose as Rosie, she had explained that she was unavoidably detained and would not arrive until 4.00 p.m..

Ernst
, for the first time that day, actually felt as though he was in control of the situation.

Chapter 31

Scott and Kelly stepped off the Dragonair Airbus A320 and walked down the steps towards the arrivals gate at Kota Kinabalu International Airport. Scott’s emotions had run wild for the previous few hours. Apprehension, grief and excitement were competing with each other. However, none of them could beat the nerves which had taken hold. Kelly had tried to calm him down but realised that whatever she said would not help. Switching her phone on, a familiar chirp alerted her to two new voice mails.

Listening to the first
, she wasn’t sure how to break the news. Scott was going to have to wait another few hours. The second was even less welcome. Her Chief Constable had heard of her foreign junket and had secured her a seat on the next flight back to the UK in less than an hour. He felt sure that a day in Scott’s company was sufficient to glean any potential leads.

Scott
could sense something was wrong as he watched Kelly’s expression as she listened.

“Bad news I’m afraid
.” Scott’s heart fell. “Rosie’s delayed until 4.00p.m.,” continued Kelly.

“Oh, OK.
Well, we’ll just hang about here until then,” replied Scott, hugely relieved.

“There’s more,
it seems my Chief isn’t happy with my globe trotting and wants me back. I’m booked on the 3.45 p.m. to Kuala Lumpur and then onto England.”

Scott
was surprised at how genuinely disappointed he felt at Kelly’s imminent departure, particularly before Rosie’s arrival.

“Do you
have to go before Rosie arrives?” asked Scott.

Kelly
blushed at the thought of Scott being disappointed in her leaving so soon. She couldn’t believe the effect he was having on her. Kelly considered the justification for ignoring her Chief’s instructions and reasoned that Rosie was in fact a potential suspect. In fact, it would be remiss of her to leave without checking she was not involved in the attempts against Scott’s life. She knew it was weak but what the hell. She smiled at Scott and dialled Parkside to speak to the Chief.

“
Parkside Police station.”

“Hi, it’s DS
Kelly. I need to speak to the Chief Constable please?”

The line went qui
et for a second. The officer who had answered the call was obviously considering the request.

“Are you sure, I mean is it really urgent DS
Kelly?”

“Yes, it’s very urgent,” she winked at
Scott.

After what seemed an eternity, the officer came back on the line
.

“I’m just going
to put you through, please hold.”

“
Kelly, this had better be fucking good,” exclaimed a weary sounding Chief.

Hearing the sleepy voice of the Chief suddenly reminded
Kelly about the time difference. She held the phone away from her face and mouthed ‘oh fuck’ before answering.

“Of course
Sir,” she sounded as confident as she could as she quickly worked out it was only 3.30 a.m. in England.

“Rosie’s been delayed and I don’t believe I should leave before I check out who she is.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason you called me at this godforsaken hour? Kelly do whatever the fuck you think is best. Just let me sleep.” The Chief hung up.

Kelly cursed herself for being so stupid. She was sure the Chief had been impressed with her and all that had just been blown in one stupid call. If only she had waited until later.

Scott
was looking at her questioningly wondering what had happened. She looked so glum.

“I can stay.”

“What, is my company that bad?” Scott looked at her, wounded.

“No,
God not at all, it’s just I forgot about the time difference.”

“Oh shit, sorry
, I should have realised. I’m so sorry,” said Scott.

“That’s OK
, he’ll get over it,” she hoped. “But at least I get to meet the mysterious Rosie!”

“True, now what to do for 4 hours
?” beamed Scott.

Kelly
could think of lots of things she would like to do with Scott, none of them however would have been in the least bit professional. She had also come to the stark realisation that Scott did not see her in remotely the same way.

“Coffee?” she suggested, hoping he’d
surprise her and say ‘no, let’s get a room and get naked.’

“As long as it’
s decaf,” he replied. Scott’s thoughts were firmly fixed on the meeting he was going to have in four hours.

“Which way?” asked
Kelly, hiding her disappointment.

Before
Scott could respond, a tannoy announcement caught their attention.

“Could any visitors waiting on a Miss Rosie Diaz due to arrive at 11 a.m.
, please come to the airport manager’s office please.”

Scott
didn’t hesitate and grabbed the nearest airport employee demanding the directions to the office. After sprinting through the terminal, Scott crashed through the manager’s door.

“I’m waiting for Rosie
,” explained Scott to the terrified manager whose door had almost come off its hinges.

The manager just thrust a
phone towards Scott.

“Hello
?”

“Rosie’s dead!” said Walker
by way of introduction.

Chapter
32

Walker tried the number again
.

“I’m sorry
, but the number you are calling is unavailable.”

He had been trying to get hold of
Clark for more than 30 minutes and just kept getting the same annoying woman with her posh English accent. He tried again.

“I’m sorry…” he hung up, something was wrong. He could sense it. Just like he had
that morning when he left the house in time to avoid the assassin sent to kill him. Clark was gone and if Clark was gone, the deal was off and he was a dead man.

He nervously looked around the bar he had taken refuge in
. Monday night was football night and large groups had gathered around each of the three screens. Walker didn’t know much about football but had lived in New York long enough to realise that the “Go Giants” chant meant the New York Giants were playing. The payphone was located next to the toilets through a door at the end of the bar. A glass panel in the door meant that Walker could see right through the bar and back to the entrance. Unfortunately, when the door opened, the noise was deafening but the game was too close to allow for toilet breaks and he’d only been disturbed once since he’d arrived.

With no sign of any tails, he dialled international directory enquiries and got the number he
needed. He paused before dialling to consider what to say. He knew his life was on the line and this was his last chance to save it.

“Do you speak English?”
asked Walker as the phone was answered.

“
Yes of course, how can I help you?”

“I need to speak to the airport manager urgently
.”

Walker had
used his most commanding authoritative tone in the hope of cutting through any of the usual ‘can I help, I’m sorry he’s not available’ bullshit. It worked.

“I’ll just put you straight through.”

Twenty seconds later, the manager came on the line. Walker kept his eye firmly on the bar’s entrance, nobody had entered.

“This is the manager, how can I help
?”

“I believe there’s been a terrible accident and I need to speak to visitors waiting for a plane to arrive
,” said Walker who had changed his tone to one of despair.

The manager instantly knew what he was referring to. He had just had a call from his air traffic controllers about the Gulfstream jet that had failed to arrive and was not responding to any call signs.

“Of course Sir, what are their names?”

Walker explained he didn’t know and waited impatiently as the tannoy message was delivered. His eyes were firmly fixed on the front door of the bar
as he waited. Nobody entered.

***

“I’ve got a hit,” shouted one of the operators.

“Where?”

“New York, Upper West side, 108th and Amsterdam.”

Mike Hunter
, the head of The Unit had taken over control of the operation personally. Ernst’s threat to redeem himself within 24 hours still rang in his ears. He had taken a risk by narrowing the parameters that the NSA systems would use to alert them. Previously, thousands of calls had been pouring into them and by the time they got a hit, Walker had already gone. He had guessed that Walker would try to call Clark again on the plane. Fortunately, that had paid off. Walker had been careless and obviously didn’t realise that just dialling the number alerted them. He had been there for twenty minutes when the systems hit the jackpot and found a phone dialling the watery wreck ten thousand miles away, less than three miles from where Hunter was standing. With two teams standing by, Hunter took no risks and sent both teams to the bar.

Ten minutes later
, the first team pulled up outside the bar and radioed back to Hunter.

***

“Rosie’s dead!” repeated Walker.

“I thought she was just delayed
until four?” replied a disbelieving and very upset Scott.

Walker was taken aback by
Scott’s response. They had managed to contact him and changed the time. They must have got hold of the real Rosie; that would explain the change in plan.

“No
, she’s dead. I’m very sorry to break the news but her plane crashed.” Walker kept a close eye on the front door as he quickly worked out what to do.

“But she was going…”

“To tell you who your father was,” interrupted Walker. He knew he had been on the phone too long but he needed to get Scott away from The Unit’s trap and under his control. He realised there was no going back. Baker wanted him dead, no matter what happened. Baker obviously blamed Walker for fucking up and not making sure she and her baby died all those years ago. Walker realised his only hope was to help Scott. Only Scott could stop Transcon, he just didn’t know it.

“Yes,” replied
Scott wistfully.

Walker heard a door opening and quickly looked towards the entrance
. It was shut. He then remembered the doors to the toilet were behind him. It must have been somebody coming out of there. Had his mind not been trying to work out where to try and meet Scott, he may have wondered why somebody came out of a toilet that nobody had gone into.