Retribution - Michael Bates (the mitten read aloud .TXT) 📗

stared into the face on it. Who is this person, and what has this person done to piss these people off. I thought.
Then I looked at the locket on the bedside table, shit, it wasn't as if I had any choice in the matter. I typed yes into the phone and pressed send. A couple of seconds later the phone beeped again, I looked at the message, which read. "Your month starts now. The number in your phone will now become obsolete." They're obviously using the one phone one-message method. A pre-paid phone they will discard, making it almost impossible for me to trace their phone. I put the phone down laid back and stared at the plaster rose on the ceiling, until the white of the ceiling grew darker as my eyes slowly began to close.

I woke some hours later; moved over to the window and opened the curtains to see it was dark. Eight floors up I had a great view of the city, which was lit up beautifully, with the streetlights and car headlamps reflecting off the rippling water of the Thames River below. I decided to get dressed, head to a local pub for a drink, and try to think how I was going to carry out this job. I also needed to find a way of figuring out who these people are holding my daughter, and where they are keeping her.

The pub was quite packed, but it was a warm evening, but I knew they had a beer garden out the back, so I chose to sit outside. Although all the tables were full, there was plenty of room on the wall surrounding the garden, which overlooked a canal below. I chose a spot far away from the other customers, and loud music coming from inside the bar. Sitting on the wall I took a sip from my pint of lager, then looked down at my reflection in the canal below. Now, how am I going to be able to find out whom these bastards are? I thought.

I need to go and see a friend; Spud. He was still in touch with the old boy network, and more importantly, he could be trusted. We served together in the SAS, and were in the same team at one stage. After we left the regiment, he went on to work for a security company who had a very reputable clientele. The work he does for this company allows him to have his fingers in many pies when it comes to the international security business. I was sure that once he knew the situation I was in; he would do all he could to help me out. My other problem was to find out exactly who the person in the photo is. I was still unable to figure out where I had seen this person before. Maybe Spud would be able to help with this too. I thought. I finished my drink, took out my mobile phone, keyed up Spuds number, and gave him a call. It began to ring, then I heard a voice.

"Jack, is that you?"

"Yes, Spud, how the devil are you?"

"Jesus, I haven't heard from you in- God, I don't know how long."

"I know, I've been meaning to give you a call, but, well, you know how it is. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, five years have passed."

"I know what you're saying. So, what can I do you for buddy?"

"I really need to see you. I'm in a bit of a sticky situation, and I think you may have the info I need to help me out. I can't really say any more over the phone, so what do you say?"

"Okay, come to my office tomorrow morning, and I'll see what I can do for you."

"Great, are you still in the same building?"

"Yes, but I've got a bigger office now."

"Oh, gone up in the world have you?"

"Something like that. So, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Great, I'm looking forward to it. Bye mate."

I had one more drink and then head back to my room. I wanted to have a clear head for the meeting with Spud tomorrow.

******

Getting out of the taxi I looked up at the tall metal and glass skyscraper. Written above the rotating door painted in gold are the words, Global Securities. I entered the building and made my way to the front desk. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged woman with long blond hair, wearing a black jacket and skirt, with a white blouse.

"Hello sir, how can I help you?"

"I have an appointment with"- it suddenly hit me, I
don't know Spud's proper name. A smile appeared on my face. "I'm sorry, this is a little embarrassing. I don't really know his proper name. We served together in the army, so I only know his nick-name."

She looked at me with suspicion. "Okay. So, what is his nick-name?"

"Spud. His names Spud."

"Ah, that will be Mr. Davies." She leaned forward on the desk and whispered. "Please, enlighten me. Why is he called Spud?"

I leaned forward and whispered in her ear. Her perfume was overbearing. "I'm sorry, but I can't really tell you, he was known as Spud when I first met him."

She pulled back and with a look of disgust, pulled down on the bottom of her jacket to straighten herself out. "If you would like to take a seat over there, I'll see if Mr. Davies is free to see you."

It was only a couple of minutes before Spud came strutting out of the lift, dressed in a blue pinstriped suit, bursting at the seams due to his muscular frame. He still had a number one haircut, except now he was sporting a goatee beard.

He came charging over with his hand held out. "Jack, it's good to see you mate."

I shook his hand and we gave each other a slap on the back. "You too buddy."

"Come; let's go up to my office."

We entered the lift and waited for the doors to slide shut. "It's silly really, but it wasn't until I got to the front desk that I realised I didn't know your proper name. So I'm afraid I let out your nick-name to the women at the desk."

He smiled. "That's no problem. I'm sure it's not the first time she's heard it."

"Well, she did seem to know who I was talking about."

"So, how has life been treating you Jack?"

"Well up until now, pretty good."

"I heard you had gone into the elimination business."

How the hell does he know that? "Something like that, yes."

The lift stopped on the tenth floor and the doors opened. "Ah, here we are, just follow me."

The lift led onto a long corridor with many offices leading off. The whole floor appeared to be a bustle of activity, with people rushing passed each other. We continued along the corridor until we reached the end.

"Here we are. Please Jack come in and take a seat. Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks."

His office was around the size of my hotel room, and dominated by a large mahogany desk in front of a big plate glass window. The view over the city was amazing.

"You weren't kidding me, when you told me your office was a little bigger than your last one. You got promoted, I take it?"

"Not quite. I'm a partner in the firm now."

I sat down. "Wow, congratulations."

Spud removed his jacket hanging it on the back of his big leather swivel chair, and sat down. "Thanks, but enough about me. You sounded a little concerned on the phone last night?"

"I have a big problem. I don't know if you heard, but Jackie died just a few weeks ago in a car crash, and Claire our daughter was taken into foster care."

"Jesus, I'm sorry Jack, but, weren't you two divorced"


"Yes we were, but as soon as I heard about her death, I decided to give up my work and take care of Claire."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Well, yesterday I received a phone call from some group saying they want me to carry out a job for them. I tried to tell them I had retired; however, they informed me they had kidnapped Claire and if I didn't do as they asked. Well, you can figure out the rest."

"Fuck! Do you have proof they are actually holding her?"
I took the locket out of my Jacket pocket and gave it to Spud. He looked at it then handed it back to me. "So how did they get this to you?"

I picked the case up off the floor next to me. "It came in this case which was left for me at the lost luggage department in Waterloo station."

"Have you told the police?"

"The police know, but I'm not going to rely on those idiots."

"I know what you're saying. What else is in there?"

"There's a mobile phone, and a file on the mark."

"So, who's the mark?"

Handing him the file. "I'm not quite sure, but I seem to recognise the face."

He opened the file and began reading it. "The name rings a bell. Oh, they've given you a deadline. Is that normal?"

"No. Not really."

He took out the photo, leaned forward and his face suddenly turned ashen. "Fuck in hell! No wonder you recognise the face. He smirked. "Now I know why you've been given a deadline."

"Why?"

"Shit Jack! Do you know who this person is?"

Frustrated, I stood up. "Obviously not, so who the fuck is it?"

"Jack my boy; you are definitely not going to like this."

"For fuck sake Spud, stop playing silly games and tell me who she is."


CHAPTER THREE

Spud stood up went over to the windows overlooking the other offices and closed the blinds.

"This, my dear Jack is none other than Rebecca Sykes, the head of MI6."

"Shit! MI6, I have never been given a contract this big," I sat back down and slumped back into my seat. "So; why the deadline?" I asked.

Spud sat down behind his desk. "She is due to give a press conference in a month's time, and rumours have it she is going to blow the whistle on some big corporation."

"Blow the whistle; on what?"

"She claims to have evidence proving that this corporation has been funding terrorism, and selling arms." Spud held up the file, "and obviously these people don't want her to make it to that conference."

“But killing her is only going to delay the inevitable.” I said.

“Maybe that’s all they need. More time.”

Who are they? I thought. "So does anyone know who this corporation is?"

"No, that information is being kept top secret. It's thought that this corporation is so big if word was to get