Chapter 7
Saturday, March 3rd 09:00,
Draycott Avenue, South Kensington, London.
Burton glared at the ceiling in a fixated stare. The last few hours had not gone as well as he had hoped. Despite his best gambling efforts, over half of the pay advance had been lost. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stay calm and now feelings of guilt and panic had started to take hold. Sleep had been hard to come by as well. Looking his wife in the eye was not something he was capable of anymore. To his left, Kate was asleep, and a large chunk of the bed was between them. Since Burton had told her of their financial problems, she hadn’t talked to him a great deal. Plans had been made to get back on track but little else had been said.
Burton got out of bed, put on his dressing gown and walked into his son’s bedroom. There, sleeping peacefully was Oscar Burton. The fifteen-month-old boy, to his father, looked so beautiful as he lay in his cot. Burton suddenly felt the need to repress the urge to burst into tears. How could I have made so many mistakes? My son. I have a son! Just see what I’ve done for him. He placed a hand on the boy’s hair and desperately wanted to hold him but knew waking him would upset his wife who was still asleep in the next room. He spoke very quietly as the boy continued to sleep. ‘You know, son, I’ve not been much of a father to you. I don’t mind admitting that. I’m a lousy husband too, just don’t tell your mother, it’ll be our little secret. I just want you to know that I’ll make it up to you. From now on I’ll get my act together and be there for all of you. Sleep tight, little man.’
In the doorway stood his wife, who had been watching.
‘Oh…morning. I was just having a chat with Oscar. He’s still sleeping though, told you he never listens to his old man.’ Burton walked outside onto the landing and smiled at his wife.
Kate tried to return the smile but couldn’t manage it. ‘Aren’t you going to be late for work?’
‘Nobody will notice me gone. A couple of things have come up anyway, I need to sort them before I go to work. What are you up to today?’
Kate watched her husband get dressed. ‘What couple of things? Work things?’ She studied his face carefully.
‘Yeah, just a few odds and ends. I can’t tell you the details, you understand, don’t you?’ Hal gave his wife a kiss and brushed past her as he rushed down the stairs. ‘I have to go, I won’t be late. Make sure you have a good day!’
As he got in his car and pulled out of the driveway, Burton dialled a number on his mobile phone. He held the phone with one hand and tucked in his blue shirt with the other. ‘Harry! It’s Hal here. No, not good. Listen I need your help. Yes, you heard right, I need your help. I need to meet you right now.’ Burton scribbled down a time and place and put his foot down on the accelerator. ‘Thanks, I’ll see you in a bit.’
Kate stood at the bedroom window and watched the world go by. She couldn’t push her feelings away any longer. No matter how hard she tried, it was impossible for her to trust her husband. There was no doubt in her mind that he loved her and their son Oscar, but Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with had continued to gamble, despite what had happened. She still loved her husband, she always would but with the trust gone, in her heart of hearts, she knew what she had to do.
Kate snapped out of her deep thoughts to realise the phone had been ringing for some time. ‘Hello?’
‘Don’t tell me you’re still with him?’ said a voice quickly.
Kate recognised the voice of her older sister, Jenny, who would be calling from her home in Somerset. ‘Yes, but I don’t think I can stay for much longer.’
‘What have you found out?’
‘The trust has gone, Jen. After everything that happened this week, it still feels to me that he is gambling. Maybe not now but in the future, he’ll go back to it. He just seems to think that he can solve that addiction in days, not months or years. What sort of mother would I be if I let that happen again?’
‘I always said he wasn’t good enough for you. He’s weak, Kate, I’d love to say he will change but it won’t happen.’
Sadness tinged her voice. ‘I know that now. You should have seen him this morning though, with little Oscar, he loves that boy. I know he still loves me as well.’
‘Kate, wait a second. This man is a chronic gambler. He always was and always will be. How can he love his family if he’s willing to put them through hell every time? Has he mentioned the financial stuff today?’
‘No, we aren’t exactly talking. I know on paper he must seem like a monster, but he isn’t. Hal is a loving husband and a fantastic father, but he just has these problems. The trouble is, he never admits it’s a real problem, just a little blip or something. I’ve done all I can, he just won’t listen to me.’
‘So, what are you going to do?’
Kate pushed away her black hair and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I don’t want to leave him. I don’t think he’d be able to handle it.’
‘You can’t stay, Kate. Don’t do it again. I remember years ago I told you to leave him, but you let him get to you. Now look at the situation, he’s gone back to gambling but this time you’re in big trouble. Oscar wasn’t around back then but he is now and that didn’t stop him. Don’t you see?’
‘I know, that’s what I just can’t believe. How could he still do that when Oscar is here? I don’t understand.’
‘Leave him, Kate. Do it today. Come and stay with us, we’ll help you and Oscar get back on your feet.’
‘I know you will. Thanks, Jen. It’s OK, you don’t have to worry. I already have one suitcase packed, he didn’t even notice. I’m going to finish packing today, get a few things, and then go. Not straight away though, I’m going to take my time, over the next few days I’ll do it.’
‘Promise me you won’t let him convince you again. You promise me, Kate. I know he’s your husband, but he won’t change. Right?’
She sighed heavily and bowed her head. ‘I know that now. As much as it breaks my heart to say it, I know he won’t change.’
‘Are you going to tell him or just go?’
‘No, not face to face. I’ll leave him a note with my wedding ring and that’ll be it. I don’t think I’m strong enough to confront him about it right now. I’ll take what money I can get, sell a few things here maybe and come to you in Somerset. He’s bound to call you when he finds out.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he never suspects you might be here. It’ll work out, I know it will. You’re doing the right thing. Might not feel like it for you but definitely for Oscar.’
‘I know. That’s what I keep telling myself. I’ll talk to you soon, sis. Bye.’ She ended the call and hugged the receiver for a moment. As she did so, she looked around the bedroom as if for the last time. Memories threatened to overwhelm her, but she resisted and pulled out a half-packed suitcase from under the bed. Kate began to pack her bags.
Thomas Deane was alone in his sand-coloured Land Rover. He pulled the vehicle over to one side and parked just before the start of the marketplace of Muscat. As he turned the engine off, he glanced in all the mirrors and gave a long studious look around his position. Information was everything to Thomas Deane. The more he collated at any given point, the longer he would live. A mental picture formed in his mind as his eyes took everything on board.
A light grey Fiat saloon, registration F1J 8FY passed his parked position. A young woman waited behind one of the market stalls and a market trader watched his Land Rover. All of it was processed and stored away in the far corners of Deane’s mind.
Deane also thought about the future. The operation ahead would prove to be a challenge, but he felt confident that with Sam’s help they would protect the Royal contingent. As he thought of Olsen, he wondered what had been going on in London during the last few days. Deane had been expecting a phone call or an early visit from Olsen, demanding answers as to why the facts surrounding the death of Geoff Olsen didn’t match what he had been told. Maybe Sam chose not to read the operation folder of ESPY? He didn’t return my message after all. Operation ESPY brought back many painful memories, none of which he wanted to recall. He made a note to himself not to discuss the past and focus on the future. A future alone? MI6’s decision to break up their partnership had come as a surprise. Regardless of the change, Deane felt confident he could convince Olsen and MI6 that it would be better for everyone to continue as they had done for the past eight years and work together.
Deane got out of the car and entered the back door of an antique shop via a side alley. As he arrived at the door, he gave his usual three knocks and waited for his contact to arrive.
Inside the shop, Saheed felt the icy stare of Jozef, who stepped into a nearby room. He answered the back door and gave a hug to his old friend. ‘It is good to see you, Thomas.’
Deane gave a rare smile and felt genuine affection for his contact and friend, who had risked his life many times over the years. ‘It’s been too long, Saheed. Are you well?’
Saheed was well aware of Deane’s perceptive qualities and was doing all he could to act as natural as possible. He was certain his friend could handle the intruder in his shop but how quickly it could be done was in doubt. Could the terrorist fire off enough shots to harm or even kill his family? Saheed had made his decision and prayed he would have a chance to make up for his betrayal in the future. ‘I am well my friend and as ever, I am at your service.’
Deane looked around the shop floor. ‘I’m always grateful for your help, Saheed, I hope you know that. I need to call on your local knowledge once again.’
Saheed was certain the intruder was listening and decided to play along a little longer before following orders. ‘What do you need, Thomas?’
Deane gave another look around his surroundings and continued in a low voice. ‘A member of the British Royal family is coming to Muscat on a three-day visit. I’m convinced there will be some form of attack in the pipeline, or some threat that will surface. I’m doing all I can but as I’ve always said, you can’t put a price on local knowledge. I need your help.’
Saheed wanted to help his friend. Deane had proved himself to be the bravest man he had ever known and more than anything he wanted to give detailed descriptions of the three men that had broken into his shop just a day ago. By doing that, lives would be saved. Saheed knew if he were single and could take the risk on his own, he would tell his friend the truth at that very moment with no fear of the consequences. He hated himself for what he was about to do. ‘I am sorry, my friend, but I have nothing for you. Perhaps what we have always hoped for is finally coming true, peace in our time.’
Deane smiled at the sentiment but didn’t believe it was happening. ‘No shipments arriving at the harbour or any new faces your contacts have seen?’
‘No, nothing.’
Deane studied Saheed’s face for a moment and saw something that caught his attention but then it was gone. ‘How is business, Saheed? Going well?’
‘Very well, my friend, my contacts in Qatar and Bahrain have been a great help and I have more antiquities than ever before.’
‘Sounds like your business is growing.’
Saheed nodded with a smile.
Deane knew that Saheed had contacts in all the nearby countries and in the past had always provided a small lead. ‘You’ve heard nothing of anyone crossing the border from Iran or Iraq?’
‘Not when I spoke to those contacts two days ago. They were surprised at the lack of movement as well. I know of several targets who have breached the border from Pakistan to Afghanistan but, they haven’t come here.’
A pause lingered between them, and Deane moved back to the doorway. ‘Very well. If you hear anything, Saheed, no matter how small, promise me you will get in touch?’
Saheed smiled back. ‘I give you my word.’ He outstretched his right hand. ‘Take care, Thomas. Stay safe.’ It took everything he had not to give a signal to Deane and expose the attacker who waited in the back room, but he kept quiet.
Deane gripped his friend’s hand firmly and left via the backdoor. He couldn’t hide his disappointment and realised he had been banking on a lead or something to give him a head start over any possible attack.
Saheed watched him leave and wondered if he would ever see Deane again. He saw the intruder appear from the back room. ‘I have done what you wanted. Now, leave my shop.’
Jozef had spent the last few minutes ready to attack with his rifle, having never been convinced that the shopkeeper would keep his side of the deal. A Land Rover drove past and Jozef recognised the agent at the wheel. Confident he wasn’t coming back, he flicked the switch on a device attached to his belt and walked into the backroom with Saheed in tow.
Several minutes later, Akira stepped in quietly with Gyorgy and waited at the doorway. ‘I know you are a loyal man, Saheed, and I thank you for what you have just done, it can’t have been easy.’
Saheed picked up on the genuine gratitude he could hear in the visitor’s tone and gave a look of total defiance. ‘You have what you want, now get out!’
Akira admired the man’s bravery, but he had made it a personal rule that anyone who had seen his face would be killed once they had fulfilled their task. Over time, he had lost count of how many people had died by his hand, but he knew his actions had been warranted and, more importantly, Madeline had backed every single decision. There could be no trace of Saheed or any of his family or contacts. With lightning speed, he flashed a silenced pistol out from under his cloak and fired two precise shots.
Saheed dropped to the floor.
Akira looked at Jozef with the cold look of death. ‘Deal with his family here and meet me back at the designated point.’ He dismantled the gun as he continued. ‘The rest of his family have left Oman to join their relatives in the United Arab Emirates, make sure all the loose ends are tied up.’
‘And what of his extended family in the United Arab Emirates?’ Jozef asked.
Akira opened the back door. ‘They will die because of his betrayal.’ He gave a look back to Jozef. ‘Do not fail me.’ He closed the door behind him, and made his way along the pavement, leaving the peaceful beauty of Muscat market behind him. In time, his actions would be discovered but as ever there would be nothing to trace them back to his identity.
Olsen showed his boarding pass to the young, attractive air stewardess who smiled radiantly and directed him to his seat. He passed several other passengers, including a couple that were in the middle of an argument, and took his seat in business class. He felt a nervous wreck, and nothing seemed to help him relax. Only Rachel had been able to help and, he didn’t mind admitting, he missed her badly now. But Oman was something he had to face alone.
Before leaving MI6 the previous day, he had picked up his silver Beretta pistol. All S.U.C.O. agents had their own personal weapon of choice. Olsen had always favoured his Beretta and had used it for almost his entire career. With a larger magazine (fifteen shots instead of the usual twelve) and low recoil it had always proven far more effective. Thomas Deane had always disagreed, but Olsen expected that. He glanced at the flight ticket in his hand. A rush of fear and panic came over him as he saw the word Oman in the right-hand corner. Once again, memories and images of his father threatened to consume him, but he resisted, shut his eyes and tried to maintain control.
As the plane began to move down the runway, he brought a dog-eared Arabic phrase book out of his hand luggage. Olsen remembered the last time it had been used on assignment. Eight years earlier, he was just a boy, a keen and bright twenty-year-old working with Deane for the first time. The duo had played a vital role in the years after the Gulf War, providing MI6 and the coalition forces with crucial information as to where enemy troops had been hiding, plus the locations of several weapon bases. Olsen remembered the sheer weight of fear he had endured on a daily basis. It had been his first operation for the service, his first operation with Deane and the first time he had worked in a foreign country undercover. A smile spread over his face as he remembered his mistakes and Deane’s harsh words. Olsen had hundreds of memories of when Deane had not only saved his life but also shown him the way. Deane had taught him how to be a government agent that could make a difference and live to tell the tale. Olsen opened the phrase book at a particular chapter. As he began to read, his mind focussed on visiting Al-Mina Street, where his father had died years before. At the same time, he struggled to think of what he would say to Deane when he saw him again.
Burton walked into the Moon and Shine pub, located in the Vauxhall area, not far from MI6 headquarters. He passed several older looking men who were already downing the first of no doubt many drinks that day. As Burton passed the bar, he glanced at the manager who gave him a scathing look. At the far end, he saw his contact sitting at a corner table with his back against the wall. He rushed over to him. ‘Morning, Harry. Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.’
Harry was in his mid-fifties and wore a tatty looking black leather jacket. His grey hair looked dishevelled, and his face was pale. He eyed up his friend for a moment. ‘Jesus, Hal, you look like shit.’
Burton gave a faint smile. ‘Thanks. To tell you the truth that’s exactly how I feel. Look, I’m going to need your help, OK?’
‘My help? I’m not in the business of offering marital support, mate. You can look elsewhere for that.’ Harry picked up his mobile phone and cigarettes off the table as he started to leave.
Burton placed a hand on Harry’s arm. ‘Wait a second, Harry. Look, I know what you do, OK? I know the dodgy deals you pull off and the information you sometimes sell to certain people.’ The men locked eyes with each other and then Harry sat back down. ‘Let’s understand each other. This will be a one off, OK? What I’m about to do will never happen again. I’m in trouble and I’m down to my last option here.’
‘Would you get to the point? Jesus, my kid can talk faster than you. What are you babbling about?’
Burton took a deep breath and tried to settle his conscience. ‘You know the Royal visit? The one to Oman?’
‘Yeah, it’s in all the papers. How could I miss it?’
‘Well, I have the schedule of that three-day visit. All the locations they’ll be visiting, and all the time and allocations of all security personnel.’ He placed a folder on the greasy looking table. ‘It’s all here.’
‘Are you telling me you want to sell that information to the highest bidder? Are you nuts?’ Harry said, wide-eyed.
‘No…I’m desperate.’
‘Listen, Hal, I know I take the mickey out of you most of the time but what I’ve always admired about you is your dedication to your work. I know what you do for a job, I always have. I’d hate to see a friend throw away his career on one stupid mistake, you know?’
Burton frowned. ‘I appreciate the career advice, Harry. Now, are you going to help me or not?’
Harry leant back against the wall. ‘Why are you doing this? C’mon, tell me the latest.’
‘I’m broke, OK? I’ve got nothing, no money, tons of bills and most of them are red ones. The house could be taken away from me, and the car. You know what really gets to me though? My work. I’ve put in thirty years and when I’m in trouble, they hardly even move. I’m on my own here. As much as I don’t want to do this, I don’t have the luxury of a choice anymore and I’m out of time. I’ve tried everything else.’ Burton got up and walked a couple of steps to the bar to order drinks.
‘What about Kate?’
Burton returned with two whiskies. ‘Why do you think I’m doing this? To buy myself new shirts for work? My wife knows about the financial stuff.’ He downed his drink and stared at the empty glass. He felt like he could drink several more. ‘I think I might lose her unless I get back on the straight and narrow. Will you help me?’
‘Are you sure about this? You go down this road and you open yourself up to all sorts of trouble. I can sell the info to the highest bidder, no problem, but there may be…comebacks.’
At the sound of any trouble, Burton looked up sharply. ‘What sort of comebacks? Like I said, this is a one off. You have to protect me, Harry, I’m doing this to provide a future for my family.’
‘Listen, Hal, I’d like to help you, mate, but it’s tricky. I can try to protect you but some of them want names on the sources. They’re not the type of people you say no to, OK? Are you sure you want to do this?’
Burton paused for a moment and downed Harry’s drink in one. Deep down a voice screamed at him that he was about to make a huge mistake. He knew there was a good chance the likes of Olsen or Deane could be killed by the decision he was about to make. The reality of that fact made him feel sick to the core. Were they more important than his family? Images of his wife at home, and little Oscar looking up at his dad from his cot took hold of his thoughts. What’s more important, work or family?
Years ago, Burton knew the answer would have always been work. In recent times things had changed and his family was everything now. The thought of being alone again wasn’t worth thinking about. His glazed eyes looked up at his shifty looking friend once more. ‘Do it, Harry, get as much as you can for me, OK?’ As Harry walked away, Burton grabbed his jacket. ‘Just try to protect me.’
‘Yeah, OK, I’ll do my best. Let me just pop outside and make a call, OK? You wait here, I’ll be back in a sec.’ Harry found his mobile phone, stepped out of the pub and walked down a secluded alleyway nearby. He dialled a number and waited. ‘Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I have something that might be of use. You know the Royal visit? I can get access to the schedule for the right price. I’m not talking the times of lunch and dinner, I’m talking the works. The security layouts, locations, times, the whole thing.’ Harry looked around briefly as he listened to the response. ‘Really? No, that sounds good. Yeah, that’s fine, just wire me the money and I’ll sort out my fee. Huh? It’s a private source if you know what I mean. Can’t you get around it? I don’t want to see this guy in trouble. OK, OK, give me my usual extras and it’ll have to do.’ He looked around again, this time in the direction of the pub. ‘His name is Hal Burton. The guy works for MI6, he has access to all sorts of info. That’s it, wire me the money either today or tomorrow, OK. Cheers.’
Back in the pub, at the far end, Burton drank another whisky. Harry slapped his shoulder and sat back down. ‘Good news, mate, really good news. I’ve found a buyer already. Great money, too. You want another drink to celebrate?’
Burton put the empty glass back on the table. ‘I don’t normally drink this much, it must be the stress or something,’ he mumbled. His senses became alert as he looked at his friend. ‘Hold on, did you say good news? How much?’
Harry smiled a toothy grin. ‘It’s a good deal mate. One hundred and fifty thousand! Minus my fee, would normally be an even hundred grand but seeing as it’s you, I’ll make it up to one fifteen, OK? Congratulations, mate, you’re out of trouble!’
Burton breathed a sigh of relief. I am out of trouble! ‘Uh…oh that’s so good, God, I never thought I’d get out of this one. I owe you one, Harry.’
‘Well, I have to go, the money will come in either end of today or tomorrow. A couple of days at the latest. I’ll be in touch, yeah?’ He placed a hand on Burton’s shoulder. ‘Nice doing business with you, mate.’
Burton stopped his friend from moving away. ‘Did you manage to protect me? No names, right?’
Just for a moment, Harry furrowed his brow, and wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Then, an air of confidence came over him as he smiled down at the half-drunk Burton. ‘No names. You’re in the clear. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be in touch.’
Burton, who had worked for MI6 for nearly three decades, watched his friend leave and dropped his head in his hands. What have I done? His mind was moving at an incredible speed. You’ve saved your family, that’s what! His entire body was on an adrenaline high, but feelings of guilt threatened to eat away at him at any moment.
As he closed his eyes to take a moment, a vivid image appeared in his mind. He appeared to leave the pub and find himself in Oman, with a hot sun beating down on his sweaty face. In front of him were the likes of Deane, Olsen, and Prince David under attack from a large group of masked attackers. They were outnumbered. As one agent fell, he found himself screaming in anger. He wanted to stop it, join in and do what he had always done, make a difference. However, it was too late, the damage had been done, and there was no going back. He was no longer on the same side.
Burton opened his eyes and found himself slumped on the table in the Moon and Shine pub, with his whole body in a cold sweat. His breathing was erratic, and several other people stared at him from the other tables. As he pulled himself up, he wiped his face with his jacket sleeve and stumbled out of the pub. As he walked away, he found a picture in his wallet. It was of Kate, Oscar and himself in happier times. The image staring back hardly looked like him, but Burton focussed on his wife and son. Guilt began to take hold, but he forced himself to believe he had done the right thing. His family would stay with him forever. They would never leave. He was free to rebuild his life and be with his loved ones.