The Codex File (2012) (35 page)

And two hours later here he was, standing on the pavement, pretending to talk nonchalantly into his mobile phone, eyeing an unaccompanied car. The boot was open exposing the remaining bags the women had to carry into her house. The engine was still running so its elderly owner could park it in her garage after she’d unloaded her shopping. This was his opportunity.

Crossing the quiet street Michael looked to the front door which was ajar. He could the see the elderly women silhouetted in the back of her house, attending to a waiting cat who had greeted her return.

Seeing the coast was clear he gently pushed the boot shut and slipped quietly into the driver’s seat of the Ford. Sliding the gear stick into reverse he eased the car off the gravel driveway and onto the road. Pulling away, moving quickly through the gears, he looked in the rearview mirror. There was no sign of the women.

Breathing a sigh of relief he turned the radio onto UKCitizensNet’s 24-hour digital talk radio station, eCIT-Talk, hoping to catch the latest news. As the news presenter was talking about the latest stage of the Saudi president’s visit to London Michael mentally tuned out as he drove around aimlessly.

Where am I going to go?

There was nowhere left he could go. He couldn’t risk going to the dilapidated mobile home park in Aldershot. That had probably been discovered already he decided. He was running out of options. He looked at the dashboard, reading the digital display that carried the time. It was 6.34pm. It would be dark soon. That would make things a little safer for him.

Eventually the road he was on reached the busy centre of Guildford as he approached a large roundabout. A huge sign detailing the numerous options he could take reared up from the centre. His gaze honed in on the place name of the one location he knew he had to go to. Taking the exit signposted to Woking and Brookwood, the centre of Guildford melted away behind him. He was heading towards SemComNet.

The rush hour traffic had been heavy. It had taken Michael over an hour to travel the relatively short distance between Guildford and Brookwood. But as the time approached 8pm at least it was almost dark he thought as the Ford meandered through the country lanes.

As the car swung around a gentle right corner the entrance to SemComNet came into view. The same entrance he’d entered through a few days earlier when he had visited Trevellion. As the car drifted past the entrance three security guards were on duty. Clearly the alert level had been raised in recent days as he recalled the solitary surly guard who had let him through previously. The security guards didn’t even look up as he drove past, following the road round the perimeter of the SemComNet complex.

About two hundred yards further round he pulled into a narrow layby overlooking a small arable field that had been recently ploughed. At the back of the field was a large wood which Michael knew from recollection spread onto the SemComNet complex. Checking no-one else was around he exited the car and climbed over the small wooden fence surrounding the field. Trudging across the recently disturbed soil he looked from side to side, expecting security guards to pounce on him at any moment. But the only accompaniment in the field was a solitary crow, perched on a mound of recently turned soil, eyeing his every step.

Looking into the sky Michael studied the almost full moon that gave some illumination to the field, allowing him to see where he was going. It was just as well the moon was out he thought as he didn’t have a torch. Although that would almost certainly have alerted the burly security guards to his presence.

A thin smile formed on his lips. He was so ill prepared for this it was almost funny. He had no plan for how he was going to breach SemComNet’s security. Or get to Trevellion. He hadn’t even sorted out a weapon to avenge Collette and Clare’s deaths. He looked down at the hefty spanner he was holding in his left hand, and which he’d retrieved from the boot of the old woman’s car. It might not be as conventional as a gun or a knife, but it would be sufficient to bludgeon the life out of Trevellion and anyone else that got in his way.

Reaching the wood at the back of the field the moon’s illumination quickly disappeared as he moved carefully between the trees. The gentle breeze which ensured the evening remained distinctly chilly whistled through the trees, causing the branches to sway and creak, adding to Michael’s already fragile nerves.

Moving quietly through the wood he felt a sharp pain slash across his right cheek. Pulling his hand to his face he could feel the moistness of blood oozing through his fingers. A branch had gouged its way unseen across his cheek.

Wiping his hand on his trousers he groped around on the ground until he found a large stick, about six feet in length. Holding the stick out in front of him he used it as a makeshift guide to hack his way through the enveloping darkness.

Progressing at a greater speed he soon became aware of small shards of light peeping through the trees in the distance. It had to be the lights from the SemComNet complex he thought, forging forward with renewed vigour. In his haste through the gloom he didn’t see the large sign nailed to a tree, warning of an electric fence in close proximity.

Striding forward the shards of light grew bigger he approached the edge of the wood. Reaching out with his stick once more to swathe a way through the concealed branches he became aware of a rustling noise to his right. Stopping instantly in his tracks he turned his head slowly, trying to make out any movement in the shadows. For a few long seconds there was nothing.

Did I imagine it?

The only sound came from the trees as they swayed gently in the breeze Then he heard a man coughing only a few feet from where he was standing.

“
Who’s there?” he said, trepidation cracking his voice.

“
Michael is that you?” a voice whispered.

“
Who are you, and where are you?”

He became aware of movement to his right and what sounded like something heavy being dragged along.

“
Michael, it’s Brown,” the voice said again. “Jones is with me as well. But he’s hurt.”

A flashlight flicked on, illuminating the area, revealing their positions. Brown was holding the torch and standing next to Jones who was leaning against a tree for support. The light flashed off again, barely on for more than a second or two. But even in that time Michael could see Jones was injured.

Where are the others?

Quickly, he moved over to where the two men were concealed.

“
What the hell are you doing here?” he asked as Jones spluttered again.

“
They found us in Aldershot,” Brown replied, desperation resonating in his voice. “Soldiers attacked the park and caught us by surprise. Green and Smith are dead. And Jones, well he’s….we barely made it out of there alive. I only hoped they hadn’t got to you. I guessed you’d come here and try and get into SemComNet when I didn’t meet you in Kingston.”

“
I had to come here. My face is all over UKCitizensNet as an accomplice to this mess. They’re trying to make out I had something to do with the death of the head of SemComNet. That we all did.”

“
We are so fucked,” Brown muttered, exhaling loudly.

“
What about the app?” Michael asked as Jones gingerly eased himself into a sitting position against the tree.

“
We’d uploaded the latest version of it onto one of our servers. But all our equipment was destroyed by the soldiers that attacked us.”

Michael began to feel the knot in his stomach tighten and numbness creep into his legs.

“
Don’t tell me we’ve lost everything?”

“
No, we’ve still got it. As a security measure, in case we ever got captured, we always made copies of important work on a remote secure server.”

“
Well how are we going to get hold of it and attack Trevellion again?”

Brown looked down and made out the silhouette of the heavy spanner Michael was clutching in his left hand.

“
You won’t need that. The app is almost ready. I’ve almost sorted the wireless handlers which will give us more options to get at Trevellion.”

Michael swung his arm round, crashing the spanner into the trunk of the tree in a dull, but satisfying thud. For a split second he saw himself standing before Trevellion, watching as he rained down blow after blow on the man who had ruined his life.

“
At least with this, I’d be able to see his face when it happens. The moment he realises he hasn’t got away with everything he’s done to us.”

Brown raised a placating hand.

“
Using that isn’t the way. You’ll never get close to Trevellion. The app is our best chance. Trust me.”

“
So when can we launch it?” Michael asked, his anger subsiding slightly.

“
There are a couple of safe houses I know of that we can probably use. They were set up for people like us to use only in an emergency so we didn’t expose the others. I can retrieve the app there and complete the remaining work.”

Michael looked quizzically at Brown as he absorbed this latest revelation.

“
What do you mean, ‘people like us’?”

Brown was looking down at Jones who was slumped against the tree and had fallen into unconsciousness.

“
We’re not the only people trying to bring UKCitizensNet down. There are dozens of groups out there. But we all protect our own identities to minimise betrayal and keep the opposition to UKCitizensNet alive.”

He broke off as both men became aware of a shuffling noise coming from behind them. Michael put his finger to his mouth, indicating for Brown to keep quiet. His grip on the spanner tightened as he shot glances all around him, trying to pick out any movement in the gloom of the trees.

The shuffling noise was heard again. But this time it was considerably nearer and sounded like something being dragged across the ground. As his eyes had become more accustomed to the wooded gloom Michael could now make out shapes moving amongst the tree. About 20 feet away he could see the silhouette of a man, walking slowly between the trees, dragging a bag of some sort behind him.

Without moving Michael gestured at Brown to double back and come up behind the solitary man. He would wait until the man reached where he was, crouched behind one of the thick tree trunks. As Brown moved silently away, leaving Jones unconscious against another tree, and disappearing into the shadows, he waited silently, surprised he no longer felt fear. His sense of purpose seemed to have dulled this emotion. Survival instincts had taken over.

As the solitary man passed where Michael was concealed, his bag dragging along behind him, Michael leapt from his position. Crashing heavily into the man’s legs he sent him crashing to the ground. Without thinking Michael brought the spanner down heavily on the prone man’s upper arm, attempting to subdue him without causing fatal injury.

“
Now,” yelled Michael as the man cried out in pain.

Behind him he could hear the thud of Brown running to join him. In an instant Brown’s flashlight was on, pointed in the face of the man who squinted from the sudden illumination. His face was contorted in pain from where he had been struck.

“
I didn’t do anything. Get the fuck off me,” he whimpered as Michael knelt heavily on his heaving chest.

As he looked into his frightened eyes it was immediately clear this man, who looked in his mid-30s, hadn’t been pursuing him. His face was dirty, slightly blackened by what appeared to be mud, and his hair was matted in thick, long dreadlocks that hung below his shoulders. He was wearing green combat trousers and a thick, but holey jumper that was stained and dirty.

“
Who are you?” Michael demanded, releasing his grip on the man, allowing him to sit up and catch his breath again.

Coughing and rubbing his upper arm the man looked from Brown to Michael and to where Jones was slumped against the tree.

“
Did you beat the crap out of him too?” he asked, looking at Jones whose was cut and bruised, his clothes torn and stained with blood.

“
No, he’s with us,” Michael replied more softly.

The man raised his eyebrows, not quite believing him.

“
Poor sod. He doesn’t look as if he’s going to make it to me. Why isn’t he in a hospital?”

“
Never mind him, I asked you a question.”

Before replying the young man grabbed Brown’s torch and flicked it off.

“
Unless you want the whole of fucking SemComNet out here turn that thing off,” he said disdainfully, tossing the torch back to Brown.

“
My name is Davey Wilkes, although everyone calls me Digger. I live here.”

Michael felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his eyes widen in disbelief.

“
Did you say Davey Wilkes?”

A worried expression crossed the young man’s face as he shuffled nervously.

“
Yeah, why?”

“
The police want you for the murder of Colette and Clare Robertson, don’t they?”

The fear was quickly replaced by anger as Digger sprang to his feet.

“
That’s fucking bollocks. I never killed no-one. They fucking set me up. They set us all up so they could build their fancy fucking building behind us.”

As another thought crossed his mind his rant quickly trailed off.