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Authors: D C Stansfield

BOOK: To Kill a Grey Man
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Chapter 9

The Deal

 

John Sea’s immaculate 1962 Bentley pulled up alongside the Embankment,
three hundred yards from Big Ben, the home of the UK’s Government and the
centre of London’s power.
 
It was a
beautiful evening with the sun still trying to shine and a small breeze
bringing the smell of the Thames to him as he walked towards the boat.
 
As it was such a lovely evening there was
quite a few people strolling about but he soon realized what a great place this
was to meet as it was busy but the pavement was wide and not crowded and there
was plenty of room for a private conversation.

 

He looked back and a large black Mercedes pulled up behind his car.
 
It had black, tinted privacy glass and
diplomatic flags flying on both wings.
 
These
basically allowed it carte blanch in the London streets, able to park wherever
the driver wanted.
 
Sir Thomas got out.
 
He was over six feet tall with a mop of grey,
swept back hair, a navy blue suit with white pinstripes and a crisp, white
shirt.
 
With a red tie and scrubbed face to
complete the look, he appeared to
all the
world like a
politician and, in some ways, he was.

 

He walked over to John.
 
“How
are you my dear friend?” he said with a wide warm smile.
 
He shook John’s hand then took his arm.
 
“Let’s go for a short walk, shall we?”

 

As he stepped forward two large men in dark suits detached
themselves from the Embankment wall fifty feet in front of them.
 
John knew fifty feet behind there would be
two more men and on the other side of the road six more men would be strolling
along seemingly placed at random but forming in all a classic secure box
formation.

 

On the high rise buildings opposite on the other side of the Thames
where they had a clear view, snipers would be following every move with spotters
looking at all the roads leading down to the river and sweeping the area for
any danger.
 
The black Mercedes would
also be cruising along behind for a quick getaway, the diplomatic flags allowing
it the freedom to creep along one of the busiest stretches of road in London.

 

“I have a problem which I need you to solve for me,” said Sir Thomas.

“Oh,” said John.
 
“What is
it?”

“Well, since your time with us you would have heard of The Firm?”

John nodded.

“And you would also
of
heard of its creator
and mentor, the so called Grey Man?”

“Oh yeah, I have heard of him and his two friends.
 
They cost me a lot of money last year,”
replied John.

“Well, The Firm has got much bigger recently with a very wide and
dangerous scope and I feel it would be better for the country if it came more
under our control,” explained Sir Thomas.

“You mean
your
control.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, good luck,” said John.
 
“Because if The Grey Man gets to hear of this, you are
a dead man.
 
I heard about a team
five years ago who tried the same thing, ex-KGB, ex-CIA, the works, they had
turned someone in The Firm to their point of view.
 
They had the latest gadgets, latest intelligence
and were very well funded, a dream team.
 
Do you know what happened?”

 
Sir Thomas did not reply.

“No,” said John.
 
“No one
knows.
 
They disappeared, to a man, every
one of them, no trace.
 
It was as if they
had never been on this earth at all.
 
In
Russia two months later the head of the Mafia and two of his closest
lieutenants were killed, all three had their heads blown clean off.
 
That could be us for just having this
conversation.”

“Yes, yes, but I have some news which changes everything.
 
The Grey Man is going blind but does not know
it.
 
Any day now his sight will switch
off.
 
All I need you to do then is kill
him for me.”

“Interesting,” said John.
 
“And what about his two friends?”

“Oh, I think they need to go at the same time, don’t you?”

 

The two men walked in silence for some time then John said,

“What will you pay me?”

“Yes, I thought we would get to that quite quickly and knowing you,
I felt I needed to be very clear, a sort of carrot and stick arrangement.
 
First let’s examine the stick.
 
Last year after paying your overheads,
houses, staff, bribes etc, you cleared personally two hundred and eighty one
million pounds and secreted it into a number of bank accounts across
Switzerland and the Caribbean.
 
I can
give you the account numbers and passwords if you like.”

 

John Sea froze and the blood drained from his face.
 
It was not exactly the figure but far too
close for comfort.

 

“I can take this and the rest of your fortune and put them into the Crown’s
bank.
 
Thank you very much, that would
make a very nice slush fund,” continued Sir Thomas.
 
“I can also wrap up every sordid deal you
have and if you stay in the UK, pass all the information to the police
recommending you went to prison for a minimum of twenty five years, then ensure
I choose which prison and which little friends are there for you to play with.
 
You are still an attractive man and I am sure
they would find you very interesting.
 
If
you decided to run I will have you hunted down, you will be horribly tortured until
you break and then I will have you killed.”

 

All this was said with his quiet cultured voice and a smile.

John Sea broke out in a cold sweat.
 
“And the carrot?”

“Ah,” said Sir Thomas.
 
“This
is much better.
 
Your operation in
Manchester is very impressive and causes little waves with the police.
 
I can give you full intelligence on London,
everything you need on the dark side of life, every gang leader, every
extortionist, every pimp and pave the way for you to expand here.
 
I am sure you will agree this is a much
bigger
prize,
add in a little service every now and
again for The Firm and you get a free ‘
Get
out of Prison
’ card. What do you say?”

 

There was a short pause.
 
“I
would be delighted,” said John Sea and the two men shook hands.

 

Sir Thomas waved his other hand and one of the black suited bodyguards
sprung forward with a suitcase which he handed to John Sea.

“Inside the case is everything you need.
 
Full details on where the Surgeon and The
Assassin are living.
 
They are quite
predictable at the moment.
 
The Surgeon
is putting down roots and looks to have left our world behind completely, he
should be an easy target.
 
The Assassin
is dabbling with some freelance work but has a son and a shop which anchors him
and makes him vulnerable.
 
I would
suggest minimum surveillance on both as these are seasoned operators so be careful,
and please no bombs as they can become very tedious for me.
 
Could you make it a simple mugging or robbery,
I would be so grateful.”

 

“The Grey Man’s latest base is also here and it has been incredibly
difficult finding it without him knowing.
 
I do not have to tell you he is very dangerous and will sense any one
sniffing around.
 
I strongly suggest you
go nowhere near until you get my signal but base your men close, able to react
very quickly.
 
It will either be that he
does not check in on line one morning, which he does everyday rain or shine, or
he will call into The Firm with his problem.
 
Either way I will be alerted and I suggest you go in all guns blazing.
 
Just make sure he is dead.”

 

Sir Thomas then walked away.
 
The Mercedes pulled up and he was in and gone like a flash.
 
The rest of the black suited men disappeared
like a mist and John Sea found
himself
alone in a
sea of tourists gazing up at the Houses of Parliament.
 
He got out his phone and called up the Bentley
which was circling the block.
 
As he got
in he instructed the driver to drive home and over the next three hours read
the contents of the case again and again.
 
He knew that what he was about to do would change his life
fundamentally.
 
Or end it.

 

The next morning he called a meeting with his enforcer, Keith Poole.

“We have a problem,” he said.
 
“I need to do some work for Sir Thomas Robertson.”

“Okay,” said Keith. “What gives?”

“I need you to kill three people and kidnap a fourth.”

“No problem,” replied Keith, a big grin spreading over his face. “Lovely.”

 

John Sea opened the suitcase and lay down the folders he got from
Sir Thomas.
 
He spread out the three
pictures and Keith started to laugh.

“Are you sure we cannot wait a few months so they can die of old age?”

John Sea looked at Keith hard.
 
“Let’s be very clear.
 
These three
men have been the best of the best for three decades.”
 
Pointing at The Assassin and The Surgeon he
continued, “These two have killed and broken more men than you have had hot
dinners.”

 

Pointing to The Grey Man he said, “This man runs an intelligence
service the like of which does not exist anywhere else in the world.
 
He has the power to move mountains.
 
If you underestimate any one of these, we are
dead.
 
Do you understand?”

“Sure, Sure,” said Keith.
 
“No
problem.
 
I will only use the best and
make it my personal responsibility.”

“Okay,” said John Sea.
 
“Let’s
start with The Grey Man.
 
He specializes
in information gathering, analysis and strategy.
 
He helped build the infrastructure of the
current security service and has access to a level of resources that are truly
mind blowing.”

 

John Sea was very careful not to mention the name, ‘The Firm’.
 
Some secrets he liked to keep to
himself
.
 
“He is an
electronic wizard,” he continued.
 
“Anywhere
he lays his hat he alarms up like Fort Knox.
 
He will know you are coming before you get there so speed is essential.
 
He moves from safe house to safe house around
every six to eighteen months and operates off the grid at all times, new
identities, new credit cards, new phones, the guy is untraceable.
 
If he does not want to be found you won’t
find him.
 
He also has a control on the
internet that you would not believe.
 
Any
mention of him, any attempt at trying to track him and the world will fall on
you like doomsday.
 
We are just lucky
that Sir Thomas has him pegged.”

“So how do we get to him?” Keith asked.

“He has a small problem that he is not aware of.
 
He is going blind.
 
From what I am told it will not come on
gradually, his sight will simply switch off.
 
What I want to do is this.
 
Find a
base,
a farmhouse similar to the one The Grey Man is
staying in, no closer than five miles from his address.
 
I want your best men split into two groups,
doing twelve hour shifts.
 
I want that place
stormed over and over again until they can do it blindfolded.”

“You can see from this layout each of the rooms and
possible hiding places,” continued John Sea as he showed a schematic from the
file of The Grey Man’s house.
 
“Get your
guys to memorize every detail, every facet until you get the word from me.
 
When you do, I want his place ripped apart.
 
Each guy is to have a machine gun, grenades,
whatever it takes.
 
I want The Grey Man dead.
 
Is that clear?”

“Sure, sure,” said Keith.
 
“Trust me.
 
It will be Armageddon.”

“Now let’s discuss The Surgeon,” said John Sea.

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