Deadly Trust Page 8

  Toni increased her pace as the arch in the bridge approached. She had a nervous look of anticipation.

  Fifty metres out, Jay sensed something wrong. Eight men with rods in the water. Not one of them baiting a line, reeling in, or pulling back on their rods to tease the fish. All well-built young men. Nobody looking around. Nobody chatting. Not one of them with their finger on their line, feeling for those precious nibbles.

  And not that it was unexpected in a way – Peterson had obviously decided to organise a small team of undercover police on the bridge. But why would they all be standing in pairs against the waist-high railings? And why did all of the police look like fit young soldiers?

  Jay stopped twenty metres from the first group. Toni stopped three steps ahead of him and turned back.

  ‘What are you stopping for?’

  ‘Because I’ve been set up. And not just by you.’

  The voice through his earpiece silenced him. ‘I don’t like this, Jay. You got three more heading your way over the arch. Route to me is clear and I haven’t seen the cops anywhere.’

  Jay studied them closer. He noticed Peterson in the middle group on the right of the bridge. Peterson glanced over to him then turned back to the water, just after a slight movement from the man next to him.

  He turned back to Toni. She was wide-eyed and reaching for her weapon. That didn’t bother him. He turned towards the figures approaching.

  ‘Put your hands on your head,’ she said in an excited manner. She had moved back towards Jay and to the side. Maybe three steps away. Jay looked past her and judged the distance between her and the rail. Achievable.

  The three figures approached. All wearing dark cargo pants and dark jackets, ski masks pulled tight over their heads. Jay realised he hadn’t seen the faces of the others on the bridge. He glanced over in time to see more ski masks being slipped on. All bar one – Peterson.

  Eleven unknowns and undoubtedly armed. Bill and a secret agent with a sniper rifle half a kilometre away on an elevated position at the end of the bridge. No sign of police re-enforcements. A secret agent on standby for a backup plan if needed. And it would be needed. Right now it was down to Jay, his Glock, his wits and reaction time.

  He smiled. He liked the odds. Just like old times.

  SIXTEEN

  The three who had come over the bridge’s arch strode towards Jay like they were all carrying jerry cans under their arms. Leader in front, minions to the side, slight rear. They stopped about ten metres from Jay. Fishing lines and gear fell into the water as the other men made their way to the rear of the three. Peterson stayed by the rails.

  ‘Finally we meet, Mr. Ryan,’ the leader said.

  ‘Had I known you were keen to get together we could have just met up over a beer. Still can.’

  ‘Unfortunately for you, I don’t have a sense of humour. Nor do I drink alcohol.’

  ‘Guess we only have the love of fishing in common then.’

  Toni broke in. ‘Where’s my cousin?’ She had the weapon pointed at Jay but directed her question to the leader.

  ‘We’ll get to that later. I’m talking to Mr. Ryan first.’ He shifted his gaze from Toni to Jay. ‘I don’t–’

  ‘We’ll get to it now!’ She shifted the gun from Jay to the leader.

  The two minions raised their short-barrelled automatic weapons and pointed them at Toni.

  The leader turned his head purposefully back towards Toni. ‘Don’t interrupt me again.’ He waved an arm to his minions, indicating for them to lower their weapons. ‘Let’s keep this civilised. This is business, after all.’

  He glanced at Jay, then stepped towards Toni. ‘Your weapon is useless,’ he said to her. ‘Mr. Ryan, here, is a very smart man. He evaded one of my best teams already. Not sure how, but quite an accomplishment.’

  ‘That’s what happens when you hire amateurs.’ Jay gave a deliberate look across the group in front. ‘Looks like good help is hard to find. Is this lot of military rejects like their dead buddies?’

  The leader paused, gave a slight shake of his head and continued towards Toni. ‘I have no doubt he knew your mission and has replaced the bullets in your weapon with blank or dummy rounds.’ He stopped short of her – the barrel of her weapon a few feet from his head.

  The leader turned towards Jay. ‘Isn’t that right, Mr. Ryan?’

  ‘You’re very deliberate in your speech ... sorry, didn’t get your name.’

  ‘I didn’t give one.’

  ‘Of course. Balaclava is pointless if you reveal your name. Anyway, no doubt you’ve prepared and rehearsed for tonight. Situation, mission, execution, and all that other crap that goes into military orders. Synchronise watches as well?’

  ‘Always.’

  Jay gave a wry smile. ‘Comforting to know I’m dealing with someone who considers himself a professional. Problem is, you also seem somewhat ... dimwitted. You’ve misread the situation.’

  Jay imagined the veins working hard at the temples behind the leader’s mask.

  ‘How so?’ the leader said. A definite lowering of the voice towards a more menacing inflection. Or, at least, an attempt at menacing.

  Jay grinned. ‘First, if I swapped the ammunition with blanks, an experienced MP like the good Captain here would have noticed the weight difference.’ He looked over at Toni and saw a hint of surprise in her eyes. In the rush to get her cousin back and keep the weapon hidden, she’d missed that detail. Adrenalin probably impeded her from noticing the difference when she drew her weapon on Jay. At least now she knew. He hoped, though, that she wouldn’t check to confirm. He still had a bluff to pull off.

  ‘As you can see, she didn’t notice. Therefore, the bullets are real.’

  ‘So in her rush to save her cousin, you figured she wouldn’t notice,’ the leader said.

  ‘Maybe you aren’t so much of a dimwit after all.’

  The leader shrugged. ‘It doesn’t really matter. Your taunting doesn’t bother me and, if the girl kills me, she dies in a hail of bullets from my boys. I’ll take my chances.’

  ‘Suits me either way.’ Jay noted the distance between Toni’s weapon and the leader. Even blanks could kill someone if the weapon was held close to the head.

  ‘I can see you are trying to judge the distance that I have stopped to compare against the lethal range of a blank fired from a 9mm pistol. She would have to get closer. And if she does she would have to be quick about it. Otherwise I could disarm her relatively easily.’

  ‘Still banking on it having blanks?’

  ‘Either way, she won’t fire. She doesn’t know where her cousin is. I hold the key. Bad guy wins this time, Mr. Ryan.’

  Jay dropped his hands and in one swift movement, pulled the Glock out and raised it towards the leader. ‘Not necessarily.’

  ‘Impasse, Mr. Ryan. Except not only do you and I die, so do the police officer over there and the military police Captain here.’

  ‘Wrong again.’ He levelled the Glock at Toni. ‘He was right about the blanks. Now best you take a walk over to the edge of the bridge there. I’ll need some room.’

  Toni was quick to respond, obviously realising her fight was over. She lowered the weapon and backed up to the edge.

  Jay trained the weapon back onto the leader. ‘Now I’ll even out the odds a little. Jump, Toni.’

  She did. He didn’t see her go over the edge. He was locked onto the eyes of the leader. A splash echoed across the bridge.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jay noted one of the minions moving towards the edge. ‘I wouldn’t.’

  The leader held his arm up. ‘Guess you’re forgetting about the police officer back there. Somehow I think the odds are still in my favour.’

  ‘I hope you don’t play cards. Your bluffing leaves a lot to be desired. All I see is one crooked police officer and ten special forces wannabes, eleven wannabes if I include you.’

  The leader paused and clenched his fists by his side. He turned towards the men to his rear,
then back to Jay.

  Jay’s earpiece came to life. ‘Shit! I hope you’re right, boy.’

  The leader nodded. ‘How many do you think you can kill before you are killed yourself?’

  Jay glanced in their direction. All were advancing slowly with their weapons raised.

  ‘I’m guaranteed to kill you. Maybe one other, I figure. Guess they’ll like those odds.’

  ‘Try them. They’re very well trained.’

  ‘But what if they knew others had them in their sights?’

  The leader chuckled. ‘Now who’s bluffing?’

  ‘One shot to either knee of the wannabe at the front of the line.’

  ‘Nice try, Mr–’

  One of the minions went down before the ‘crack-thump’ split the air. Everyone went to ground except the leader, who instinctively ducked; and Peterson ran back over the hump in the bridge. Jay hadn’t moved. He looked at the leader, who was frozen to the spot. Typical officer, Jay thought. He used the diversion to cross the three paces to the leader, grab him by the throat and fling him around to face the others. He backed up fast towards the rails, hauling the leader with his arm firmly around his throat. The momentum carried them quickly towards the edge. Jay turned just before the rails and catapulted the leader into the water below.

  He lowered the Glock to his side and looked towards the men lying on the bitumen bridge, weapons trained on him.

  His earpiece came alive again. ‘Jay. Get out of there. Two heavy vehicles just passed under us and are headed your way. They’re not police. Headlights are approaching from the other direction as well.’

  Jay scanned in front of him. Peterson was gone. ‘Okay, no need to give your position away. You two meet us at the rendezvous. I’m out of here.’

  Jay knew they wouldn’t shoot unless he shot at them first. Otherwise he’d be dead already. Whatever their mission, they needed him alive. And Jay intended to find out why.

  He jumped the rail and plunged into the dark.

  SEVENTEEN

  The prisoner lay curled in a foetal position, shaking with every new cool blast of air-conditioning. A six-inch chain secured his wrist to an eyebolt in the concrete floor. Bright lights and wet clothes ensured he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

  Jay watched from behind a one-way mirror. Beside him, a retired secret agent, who looked like Santa Claus in a farmer’s outfit, monitored the various data-capturing devices. The farmer’s ‘retired’ name was George. The hidden interrogation room belonged to George and his wife, Mary. From the outside, it looked like a typical rural farm. From the inside, it was a state-of-the-art interrogation facility and safe house for the National Secret Intelligence Service.

  It had taken them less than forty-five minutes to meet Bill at the rendezvous and haul their prisoner back to the farm. They had turned the prisoner’s ski mask around so he had no idea where they were headed.

  Jay turned at the sound of a door opening. Bright light entered the basement, followed by Bill and Toni, each carrying two mugs. Steam from the mugs flowed up and around their ears as they descended the dozen steps. Toni caught Jay’s look. She had showered and was wearing a pair of overalls. Same dark colour that Jay was now wearing. Hers had been supplied by the petite farmer’s wife. The overalls hugged tight against Toni. Jay’s clothing had been supplied by George. It barely fit his shoulders and he’d unzipped it halfway down his chest.

  ‘One milky coffee,’ Bill said and handed the mug to Jay.

  Toni handed a mug to George, stepped back to a corner and looked in at the prisoner. Bill did the same.

  ‘When you going in?’ Bill asked.

  ‘When blood starts flowing out of his mouth.’

  Toni gasped. ‘What?’

  Jay pointed to a large monitor beside George. On cue, George played with a joystick and zoomed in to the prisoner’s face.

  Jay looked at Toni. ‘See that small drip of blood?’

  She nodded.

  ‘That came out less than three minutes ago. The first drip is a sign he’s trying to stay alive.’

  ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Means he’s so cold he’s either biting his tongue or cheek to get warm blood into his mouth. At the moment, he probably has a mouth full of the stuff. It’s a survival thing. Leave him long enough and he’ll start on his arm: the one keeping him chained.’

  ‘Does it work?’ Bill asked.

  ‘The mouth does for about five minutes before they start choking. In that state the body starts rejecting all sorts of things, including your own blood. He’ll realise this and then start working the arm.’

  ‘But the door’s locked. Even if he does bite off his wrist, he can’t get out,’ Toni said.

  ‘One step at a time in his state. He’s shallow-thinking, reactionary even. He can’t rationalise that process. Not many can.’

  She screwed up her face. ‘Can you?’

  ‘Still got two wrists. Been handcuffed plenty of times too. And not just by the pink, fluffy type.’

  Bill almost choked on his coffee and Jay noticed the hint of a smile from George. Toni turned a bright shade of red. Jay paused long enough on her to let her know he was mocking her. She deserved it after crossing him. Since the incident on the bridge, she had pleaded her case. That she had been forced into concocting a false story for the paper about her cousin’s death, or apparent death. Jay had listened but hadn’t replied. There would be time later.

  He turned back to Bill. ‘Speak to the old man yet?’

  ‘My old man’s been dead a long time.’

  It was George’s turn this time to spit a mouthful of coffee. Spray landed on some of the electronic equipment and he scrambled to wipe it down with his sleeve.

  Jay looked from George to Bill. He gave a short shake of the head.

  Bill got the hint and wiped the smile from his face. ‘Okay, serious time. Yes. Spoke to your dad. He said officially we have to hand over your prisoner to the Feds.’

  ‘Unofficially?’

  ‘You have two hours max. We can explain the delay in security issues with getting to the facility.’

  ‘No room to move?’

  ‘Unless you link it to the anthrax attacks, it doesn’t belong to NSIS.’

  Jay paused in thought at the last comment. The anthrax reference stirred him for reasons he didn’t know. Toni had mentioned anthrax in reference to her cousin. He tried to make a quick link, but couldn’t. It would have to wait. ‘Speak with the Commissioner?’

  ‘Because we crossed into Queensland from New South Wales, we came under a different jurisdiction. Peterson was supposed to liaise with the Queensland Police for the set-up.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. Queensland Police know nothing about the operation.’

  ‘Figures. Peterson turned up anywhere yet?’

  ‘No. AWOL. The New South Wales Police Commissioner wants a detailed brief on what went down. He’s not happy about Peterson being MIA.’

  ‘Did you give him the details?’

  ‘Told him I didn’t have a secure line, although I used one from here. Mentioned you’d call him as soon as you could.’

  Jay raised his eyebrows. ‘He was happy with that?’

  ‘No. He wanted to jump on a chopper and come up here. I told him I didn’t even know where we were. He started a bit of a rant and finished with saying he would call your dad to complain.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Doubt it. Ed’s in the middle of a conference. I had to send him a message first to get him to call back.’

  Jay put his hand to his chin. ‘Okay. We need to find Peterson. Also, something else has been bugging me. There were no regulars on that bridge tonight. I didn’t see anyone there stopping people from fishing. Did you?’

  ‘No. Already onto it. I have a couple of sources working first thing in the morning on figuring that one out. First thoughts are someone with a badge visited, warning people off the bridge for tonight. You could get the in
formation quicker.’ Bill nodded towards the one-way mirror.

  Jay looked at his prisoner. The shaking had increased. He checked the close-up picture of the blood below the prisoner’s face. A small pool had formed.

  ‘I need you out on the ground working witnesses, Bill.’

  ‘This time of night?’

  Jay checked his watch. ‘Regardless of the information I get here, I still need verification. Better to be safe than sorry. And it’s worth a shot.’

  Bill finished off his coffee and placed the cup on the bench below the one-way mirror. ‘Fair enough. I need to call my driver.’ He looked over to George. ‘Where the hell are we? We took so many detours getting here I got dizzy.’

  ‘My wife will drive you out to a rendezvous point. From there you can ring your driver,’ George said.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jay could see Toni glancing from the monitor and back towards him. He met her gaze. ‘What?’

  ‘This is insane. He’s going to die from hypothermia.’

  ‘No, he isn’t. George?’

  ‘Signs aren’t there yet. Plenty of time.’

  ‘Satisfied?’ Jay asked Toni.

  ‘No.’ Her voice betrayed uncertainty. ‘What could you possibly achieve by putting someone through this?’

  ‘Answers. Every prisoner needs to be conditioned to interrogation. Some less than others. Some it’s food or drink. Others, extreme cold or heat. We all have a different psychological profile. But in the end, you can break us down to one of two things.’

  Toni tilted her head as if to ask the question. Jay wanted her to verbalise it. He waited.

  She got the message and said, ‘What?’

  ‘Fight or flight. At the end of the day, we men are either made up of the flight or the fight response.’ Jay pointed towards the one-way mirror. ‘Conditioning such as this tells me which one he is. I can then formulate my strategy to suit. Which one do you think he is?’