Dark Logic 2 here ... Dark Logic 3 here
I
They’d already changed over in the next layby, Faye had gone, he’d slept for three hours, then had awoken to find Cait had put a blanket over him. She was kneeling on the van floor beside him, one arm across.
‘Morning,’ said she. ‘We’ll be washing and changing soon, there’s a friendly place, we know the couple. But every stop is danger all the same, the chance of them being watched is high, which is why we approach … unusually.’
He glanced near the back of the van … it had been stacked quite high. She nodded. ‘Yes, we need to deliver that lot. Then we wash and change clothes after that. Any laundry we usually bundle up and have someone go to the laundromat … our own laundromat by the way.’
The van pulled out.
.o0o.
The delivery involved subterfuge, three coordinated vans, twelve people, including a control, the delivery itself maybe eight minutes, the subterfuge an hour and a half, planned to the last letter, each crew needing to react within parameters … their attitude was that if by some chance they’d got away with this one, not that it was any kind of triumph ... now came the next risk.
.o0o.
So here they were, in the back of a home-heating engineer’s van this time … the fourth person in with them used the moniker 'Sven', could take care of himself, this one … plus there was Jeanne, plus the driver. Highest risk they’d taken so far.
Getting straight to the point, Jeanne opened:
‘Cam is driving, we’re married, he’s one of the honchos running this cell. I’m afraid it’s interim decision time, guys … the girls explained the get-out clause to you both, which must be understood and agreed now, before we divulge any further operational matters?
Good, we’re having no unmarried couples in this cell, call it a reaction to the Sodom and Gomorrah out there, the lawlessness, but it’s marry one of these two or leave now. However, the get-out clause is that if these dossiers which we're going to burn after you've read them turn out to be in any way untrue, you're free of any commitment. We really mean that.
We did our homework on you guys, the girls have answered your questions till now but the dossiers answer far more than they have ... we four were all present when they were written, no one hid anything, even down to some bad relationships in each case, no coverup, we're taking the chance you're both experienced, you'd know what was real and what was pap. Twenty minutes, guys. The girls will be in the other van, we'll be in the front of this van and no, we can’t overhear you.'
They both got out and went around. The ‘guys’ got down to reading … interestingly, Jeanne had casually dropped one dossier into Sven’s hands, the other into Lee’s. The guys did not wish to swap them.
.o0o.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a change … what seemed to be Jeanne by the footsteps got out and went over to the van with the other girls. Cam got into the back of ‘the guys’ van’.
Said Cam: ‘I’m here to answer questions. If you’d prefer I was not here, I can go for a wander.’
‘No, stay,’ said Sven and Lee agreed. ‘I suppose we need to discuss the girls.’
‘And the working relationship between you two of course. This, boys, is where you accept and we go next level … or you return to lower level work at a secure unit far from here, more menial of course, less rewarding but safer.’
‘Girls?’
‘Probably would be. What chance you’d strike lucky these days? No guarantees but possible of course’
Said Lee: ‘We just need to know the lie of the land. All this is predicated on it being true of course.’
‘So there really is pressure to marry one of these after all?’
‘You’re already captured, Lee, you told the girls that.’ Lee smiled, as did Sven, who took it up.
‘Look, let’s cut to the chase. The physicality, the way of talking, the interests, the pace, the background … you’ve done your homework, we’ve been matched without us having to do the long groundwork. It’s pretty clear who I’d choose. Can I be sure she’d think so too?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Cam. ‘Assuredly. They’re pretty anxious over there as they’vecalso made their choices, subject to you two of course. Lee, are your eyes on the other one? Fine if not, just asking.’
‘Both are the most fab I’ve seen in a long, long time, as is Jeanne … yes, you’ve done your homework, you knew the odds before it started. I’m gone on both and that’s not just diplomatic bullsh … but I can see that one lady is maybe going to work out better with Sven, and the other with me … that’s if she wants of course.’
‘Oh she wants all right, Lee, I can tell you that now, she’s having kittens over there. They said the same … I do think genuinely … just as I think you’re both being genuine. Look, boys, as we’ve agreed, we did some pretty thorough homework on you two. You’d not have even got into our vans if you weren’t right for us. Do you think we backgrounded the girls well enough? Do you need more? Do you need more time?’
Sven and Lee looked at one another. No, they were ready and it was a clear yes.
‘May I call Jeanne and say, ‘All good?’
They nodded, he phoned, they could hear two squeals and ‘Yay’ from across the way.
‘Ok,’ said Cam, ‘thank goodness that bit’s done. Now you’ve already discussed the cost of a ring with Jeanne, it needed to be around that amount each, given what we live on, the girls were fine with those. Afraid it’s not a ‘two sweethearts wander into a shop’ thing, they were told what was available, each chose for herself, hopefully you’ll both be deliriously happy with the choice, you know their stones, it will be churches in two different places, we bring in the vicars, ours, no best man, no bridesmaids, no reception but there is a honeymoon much later, I’ll explain. Any issues so far apart from honeymoon?’
Heads shook.
‘All right, no honeymoon just yet, no children yet afap … that time will come but not until the couple are on lighter duties in another cell for some time. There’s a year of this work ahead of you first. You’ll need a break for a few months after that, so will Jeanne and I need a break in turn. We talk it through then. Again … questions?’
Heads shook again.
II
By mid afternoon, the four had been dropped at two different churches far from each other, as Cam had said … no congregation, just officiated, signed, no reception, the vicars were not even going to send it to government … it was not in the eyes of the state that they were married, it was in the eyes of the Almighty, Faye said to her betrothed.
Cam came through, concerned about something, the pastor was obviously used to this, he led the way to a back room.
‘Congrats, Lee, best to you, Faye.’
Faye: ‘Something happened?’
‘Yes it has,’ muttered Cam. ‘After the other wedding, they took the pastor, someone’s betrayed us. A different part of the crew will get onto that. Fen and Tom were the first hit of this new situation, one of our vans was also hit a few days back. No one’s above suspicion … not me, not Jeanne, not our senior advisor, not the crew, nor you lot either. It may even come down to who fails to turn anything up. My feeling is it’s not a serious hit on us at this point, more to plunge us into horror, to sow doubt in our minds, as with Fen. Effective, less organisation required.’
‘And you’re living this way 24/7,’ breathed Lee.
‘Society’s changed, Lee. By the way, did you notice the girl in the white Astra, passenger seat, as you came in?’
‘Across the road? Straw blonde, hair in braids?’
‘Good boy,’ said Faye. ‘Natural blonde?’
‘You’ve got me.’
‘All right, where was her man?’
‘Tell me.’
‘In the rear footwell I’d say. She kept deliberately not turning her head but was still speaking sideways, no phone in sight.’
‘In a holder?’
‘Quite possibly but my money is on him being across the rear footwells because of the side talking.’
‘Correct,’ said Cam, ‘he eventually sat up, we have photos, reg, all that. From Stoke, car not stolen … yes, we still have people in the DVLA but the records needed hacking … 70% of what we do is online, we have our own database, including prints.’
‘We feel,’ said Faye, ‘that the girl is far more than just a factotum, too downdressed, no concession whatever to style, not natural, nor a chav, but look at her hair.’
‘The braids,’ said Lee ‘… they looked well done.’
‘Yes, as if she had a function later. No doubt Cam checked.’
‘We did. Opera this evening with a twist, it’s on our hit list, you two will need to get some hours of sleep, can you postpone the consummation for now, we need you fresh for this evening, this one’s been in the pipeline some time. But first, Lee, here’s the photo of the ‘Tom’ you were meant to have in Stranraer,’ he showed it, ‘and here’s the one killed, found in the ditch. You do see the issue, no?’
‘Same man. Why would Fen even get into the car with such a man, calling him Tom?’
‘In one. Now this is unfair to you, Lee, not even Faye knows this, but Fen’s fiance’s name is also Tom. Listen to it again please, the last moments before the ditching of the car …’
They listened …
… then once more.
Asked Cam: ‘Well?’
Said Faye, ‘Definitely Fen’s voice, I’ve never heard fiance Tom’s.’
‘This is it, a talk at a local tech college not far away.’
They listened, Faye exclaimed, ‘That’s Field 3, he was delivering with us.’
‘Yes he was, he was down here, but we only have Fen’s word on the tape that it was any sort of Tom in the car with her anyway. And why would she be telling her own Tom which roads they should be taking? Both being locals? I can buy new Tom being with Fen, even driving … but why would she expect him to know the way without even nudging? And why towards Stranraer?’
Lee added, ‘She may have been up to something, not necessarily bad, she may have still been for us … her Tom, you say, had the Audi down there with you, same Audi from Stranraer to our HQ, where we processed him. Tell us about Field 3.’
‘Ok,’ said Cam, ‘she used to stop in during such runs, via the low roads, at her home, so she said. This time round, local Tom used the Audi. Who was in the ditch?’
‘The boyfriend of Miss Braids,’ said Lee. ‘Not the one in the footwell, as new Tom was dead. Who killed new Tom? Who killed Fen?’
‘You tell us,’ said Cam.
‘Well clearly, a third party bumped off new Tom, if he was actually driving. My guess is Miss Braids … but why? Some relationship? And who then was footwell?’
Faye was thoughtful. ‘I’m still confused over Fen. I’m guessing here that Fen’s voice was not live, it was sampling, put together in a sound lounge. There might not even have been a man in that car at all, nor a woman, no one, not even her, it was all arranged after the event. She was murdered, brutally, at her home, either by new Tom or both Toms, Field 3 went south, the other took the body in Field 3’s car …’
‘In one, Faye,’ said Cam. ‘Look, Fen did go to her home with this new Tom, her own Tom was also there … snoopy neighbours confirm. Field 3 Tom says they swapped cars … well, they did …he then made the journey to Gretna station in the Audi, then south to us. This was not as we’d arranged, we’d wanted to observe new Tom but when Field 3 got to Gretna, he had a plausible excuse … that there was a reception committee for new Tom. Naturally, all is denial there, but now deep suspicion.’
‘What are we sure of?’ asked Lee. ‘Fen was killed and mutilated, we know that by one or both, then loaded into the Passat.’ Cam nodded. ‘Where’s Field 3 now?’
‘Scarpered. Gone, no sign.’
‘Went back inside,’ put in Faye. ‘Sleeper.’
‘We’re pretty sure,’ said Cam, ‘that Fen’s sound was not live on the recording. What we do know beyond a doubt from the police report, shots etc., was that two people were in that ditch after a tyre blowout, the Passat had slewed one wheel into the ditch. Here’s the photo … new Tom in the ditch, no? So who was footwell?’
‘Just one of their fields,’ said Lee, ‘equivalent, taking orders from her or else someone higher watching her carefully, as they suspected it was her who’d done the killing.’
‘Yep, and we have corroboration that what we called new Tom was dead, shot. The question still remains: ‘Who was Miss Braids’s footwell man?’’
Said Faye: ‘There never was one.’
Cam was grinning again, watching Lee closely. Said Cam, ‘Our field took the shot of Miss Braids in the car … here tis.’ He passed it across. ‘Passes muster? Good. Now here’s footwell.’
‘But that’s a close up, why not a duplicate shot from the same position, untampered with?’
‘Precisely. It’s amateurish, as if the subterfuge was arranged by an amateur.’
‘Our field who took the shots?’
‘Also gone. So the tally is that new Tom saw all and was headed out of the country, Fields 3 and 6 have scarpered, Fen’s dead and there’s an assertion of corruption at Gretna Green. Not bad work. But there’s a fly in the ointment.’
‘Braids went rogue.’
‘We think so. New Tom was not new at all, he’s one of the shadow string pullers, they call him Antony …’
‘Don’t tell me …’
‘In one … yep … Cleopatra. Why did Braids, Cleopatra in other words, kill Antony? And how? You have a try, Faye.’
‘He dun her wrong,’ she answered in a flash.
‘Only Braids can confirm that, it’s inside biz, their internal matter. You were given new Tom in good faith, Lee, so the rot was how he was ever approved in the first place, before Stranraer … in Ireland. That’s our current task but it’s beyond us at this moment. We’re fed by an Irish cell which has never gone wrong till now. They’ve now severed links with us, so a win-win for dead Antony, plus you’re obviously meant to be deeply suspect yourself, Lee, at the Stranraer end, plus Jeanne and I were the ones brokering the ‘Tom’ deal, so we are too … you see how it works?’
He paused, then added out of the blue, ‘What do either of you know about Tosca?’
Said Faye: ‘You mean the opera? As in Quantum of Solace?’
‘That’s the one. Where is it next being staged? Either of you?’
‘One moment,’ asked Faye, reaching for her minipad.
‘Don’t bother, it’s on this evening at that new farm turned stately home in the Dales. Not publicised. Either of you heard of the place?’
‘No,’ said Lee, ‘unless it’s Cavaradossi, something new Tom mentioned a few times.’
‘You’ve got part of it … that opera’s being performed tonight at this new theatre, which is a farm with a brutalist sprawl of buildings tucked between two hills and ring fenced to keep out the riff-raff.’
Faye had found reports on French social media. ‘Charming. Looks just lovely. Anyway, what’s it to do with us?’
Cam paused a few moments, then laid it out. ‘Think of the game of cricket. We’re the batsmen and they’re the bowlers, fieldsmen, keeper, umpires, press, plus half the crowd. Supporting us are the rest of the batting team, except two of us who are quislings.
Also maybe half the crowd, maybe more, tacitly support us. To the enemy, it’s just a game, a jolly jape, the thrill of chasing us down. If they fail one, two, three times, they don’t care, they refine their technique and eventually get us. To us, it’s sudden death … or more likely torture first … you saw what happened to Fen.’
‘Why don’t we just escape, disappear?’ asked Faye, though she already knew the answer.
‘We can and we shall one day but they have something on us. We have consciences though … we could no more abandon the others … or those suffering … and they know it. So the only solution is to nobble the enemy so badly in a war of attrition, bit by bit … and stay alive long enough to do it.’
‘How does this building complex come into what we’re meant to be doing this evening?’
‘I’ve seen the plans to the building … it’s labyrinthine, it has tunnels below, secret passages, wall blocks which slide out, cameras. We can’t capture them and they know we know we can’t, so they must therefore offer us a sporting chance in a different way, in order to interest us sufficiently.’
'Go on,' said Lee.
'This opera tonight is Tosca. Do you know the story, apart from what you’ve said so far?' Blank faces. 'Right, there's a singer, a diva and she exchanges eyes with a young painter but he's crossed the stasi of the time, whose chief officer has it bad for this diva. He's after the friend of this painter whom they've labelled a terrorist and they torture the painter for the other’s whereabouts. The diva hears the screams and tells them where the second man is.’
‘Charming,’ repeated Faye.
‘Oh they love such stories. There's a deal made where if she agrees to do ‘it’ (the act) with the SS chief, which he’s slavering for, he'll agree to let the painter and her go free, out of the country. Naturally, he lies but so does she. Instead of letting him do it, she stabs him. Meanwhile, the painter is to be shot upstairs high in the castle, she 'knows' they're blanks in the guns, , believes the stasi man, she races upstairs, he is shot for real, she then sees them closing in on her ...'
'I do know it,' said Lee. 'Isn't this the one where she leaps off the castle wall?'
'Yes it is,' put in Faye, 'I remember it too, I even saw it one evening. Yes, she jumps … in the play though it’s onto a big mattress. Or a stunt double does.'
'That's it,' Cam took it up again. 'They have to stage it outdoors this evening for logistic reasons, tricky in Britain, so there are all sorts of canopies over the stage, the audience is in a giant marquee, it's all on the gravelled area before the main entrance. It's not even within a courtyard, it's open to three roads not far away. They could not have made it easier for us ... nor more treacherous either.'
'Ok, got that,' said Lee. 'What's in it for us? What's our mission?'
'That’s complex. Playing the diva will be none other than Miss Braids ... Cleopatra. The programme notes they reprinted had her real lover, Antony, as the painter, going to be interesting, eh? Mr. Footwell with an Antony mask perhaps? Would she blow her own cover by revealing the very notion of masks?'
'They're going to recognise us anywhere near the place,' objected Faye.
'Yes they are, so we're using four of our Romanian friends instead, already living here in Sheffield ... they know the danger, they’re rougher than we are.’
‘There’s something else going on,’ said Faye. ‘I know that lip line of old, Cam. Give.’
‘Ok, we’ve already taken Ms Braids. Cait and two girl friends rocked into the hair salon, used the darts, there was only one other customer, they knew the minders had gone for eats, they got her out through the back, a borrowed van at the end of the lane, dropped at a disused hotel, into the cellar area, she was in comfort once it had worn off, she was fed, her hair was finished by Cait’s mate who’s a hairdresser, a good job, Cleo didn’t know what the hell was going on. She was obviously scared but delighted by the hair … for free.
She was given a choice. She’d be dropped in a field if she did as she was told, she’d be dropped in the sea if not. Believe me, the hair played a large part in that decision.
We said we could prove nothing about her killing Antony but we did want to know about Fen. We suspected she’d shot out the Passat’s tyre just before the A75 west … why had she? And was Fen killed there, then mutilated, or was she already dead? Also, she needn’t name names but had there been someone in the Irish cell, a traitor?’
Said Lee: ‘She’d have seen advantage in that, further mischief.’
‘She did. She relaxed once she saw the lie of the land, probably laughing inside at how little the kidnapping had bought us, plus she now knows one of our hidey holes.’
Said Faye: ‘She was darted on exiting?’
‘In her food it was. The apple pies. Means little, she’s a smart cookie and was being accorded respect here. Probably won’t help us longterm but just might. So anyway, yes, she was the one who shot out the tyre, meaning he’d crossed her … or else she was appalled at what had been done to Fen.’
‘Tawdry people,’ muttered Lee. ‘But why go to that extent with Fen?’
‘Psy-ops. Terror. Fear. Some revenge.’
‘What happens tonight?’
‘Assuming Cleopatra makes it back from the field … she had her phone which we’d hacked and have the goods on those people … then she’ll show up. What she tells pseudo-Antony about the incident, which may or may not have been reported by their boys … well, she has a dilemma. Why did we go so soft on her for example? Hopefully that will stir up some trouble between them. Our four Romanians will be there, we bought four tickets through a double agent at the brokers who sold the land. They’ve been primed on the exact way to take her a second time if she turns up. I’m pretty certain she’ll get back and they’ll want her, personally, making the jump.’ Their aim is mayhem among us.
‘I’m assuming,’ said Faye, ‘that they’ve laid traps for us.’
‘Undoubtedly. Our boys know to sit away from any possible needles, they’re armed with blowguns, darts again, usual thing. That hell for leather ride out is the crucial part.’
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