The Pulsar Files, page 17
part #1 of Matt Flynn Series
‘Yes, but you know what they say happens when you antagonise a dragon?’
‘Don’t start getting all literary on me now. What do you think we should do with him downstairs?’
‘Keep him for another day, make him think he’s with us long-term and see if he becomes more cooperative. If not, hand him over to the Met Serious Crime Unit.’
‘What if he does tell us something useful, are you willing to forget some of the events of that night, such as his attempt to kill you, holding Louise hostage, or the fact you found a gun on him?’
‘No way.’
‘You’re a hard man to please Matt Flynn.’
‘I do my best.’
Chapter 31
Matt and Chris walked into MP Derek Spencer’s office in the Houses of Parliament, accompanied by a tall, good-looking girl with the strong, muscled legs of a two-hundred-metre sprinter. Her presence changed Chris’s demeanour from the worried and neurotic expression he’d worn since setting off from Windsor, to that of a lusty schoolboy ogling a vivacious young teacher.
If the Amazonian stature of Geraldine, Derek Spencer’s secretary, was a surprise find in the musty corridors of Parliament, the sight of Derek Spencer MP was even more so. Expecting a careworn old buffer with a pasty complexion, receding hair line and a taste in clothes not improved since boarding school days, Matt was surprised to find a fit, mid-thirties man with a thin, noble face, trimmed and gelled black hair, wearing a stylish blue suit, blue shirt and matching tie.
‘Pleased to meet you both,’ Spencer said standing up from behind his cluttered desk and shaking their hands. ‘The conversation I had yesterday with Sir Raymond really piqued my interest, hence when he suggested we got together, I happily agreed to do so. Before we start, let me make this clear to ensure there are no misunderstandings about what I can or can’t do. I’m a backbench MP with an interest in defence matters, not the Minister of State for Defence. I don’t have the ear of the Prime Minister or make government policy, only try to influence those who do.’
‘Sir Raymond told us as much,’ Matt said.
‘Good. Nevertheless, while I don’t enjoy a direct line to the Prime Minister or Defence Secretary, I have enough clout in this place from my membership of and chairing a couple of key Defence Select Committees. I’m therefore confident that if you can confirm what Sir Raymond outlined, I’ll have no trouble repeating the allegations on the floor of the House. Does this sound like a way forward?’
‘Sounds great,’ Chris said, a smile creeping across his face for the first time today.
‘Excellent. Let’s get started. Perhaps if you can begin your story, Chris. When and how you first got involved with Dragon, then bring me up to date with their attempts to silence you.’
Chris came to the meeting prepared and over the next twenty minutes explained how he’d downloaded the documents from Dragon, what they revealed, the efforts the company were making to take them back and why he and an agent from HSA were in the Houses of Parliament today talking to an MP.
‘Good Lord, you tell quite a story, but excuse me if I remain sceptical until I see some proof. In my defence, my father is a lawyer and some of his manner has clearly rubbed off. I must say, looking at you now, Chris, I do recognise you. Your picture was in all the newspapers at the time of the tragic balloon crash. You have my condolences, it must have been a terrible time for you.’
‘It was back then when I was under the impression it was an accident. Now, it’s started all over again with Dragon trying to kidnap or kill me.’
‘I understand. You said you have some documents to show me. Did you bring them with you?’
‘The documents are saved on the net. If I can use your laptop, I’ll show you.’
Spencer closed a couple of documents he didn’t want them to see and turned the laptop towards Chris.
‘Be my guest,’ he said.
‘So, how did you and HSA become involved with Chris, Matt?’
‘It’s a long story and I won’t bore you with too many details. We were tracking the movements of a Serbian hitman who we believed was in this country to do a job. This turned out to be the downing of the Anderson family balloon.’
‘I’m finding it hard to get my head around,’ Spencer said, a look of shock on his face. ‘So, right from the word ‘go’, Dragon have been trying to eliminate anyone involved in bringing their nefarious activities to light?’
‘Yep, this is how it looks.’
‘The documents are ready,’ Chris said.
‘It didn’t take long.’
‘I just needed to sign in to my Cloud account.’
Chris shifted the laptop to Spencer’s side of the desk and for the next half hour, talked him through a variety of downloaded reports and emails, while Matt took a look through a pile of newspapers lying on the desk.
When the two men finished, Chris moved his chair back to its previous position and waited for Spencer’s reaction.
‘This is devastating stuff,’ he said after a few moments. ‘If these emails are genuine, and there is no reason to doubt their authenticity, Dragon are responsible for wholesale bribery, corruption, the murder of your family, Chris, and that of Latif Artha.’
He pushed his chair back, walked to the window and stared through the dirty glass. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. A minute or so later, he turned to face them.
‘Latif was a great friend of mine. I attended his funeral. I believed he died in a car accident, although I didn’t believe the police when they said he was found with high levels of alcohol in his body, as he didn’t drink. I assumed the bottle of scotch he always brought for me had smashed in the crash, but I had no idea his death might be in some way deliberate. No idea.’
‘I’m sorry for you to hear about his death in such a way,’ Matt said.
‘No, no. I suppose it’s better I hear this from a member of the security services than reading some salacious rumours in the tabloids. It’s just come as a shock, that’s all. Let’s get back to business.’
The MP retook his seat behind the desk. ‘The stakes are high because Dragon are desperate to sign a deal with the UK and NATO. With this vote of approval, it’s expected the US will weigh in with a much larger order, some say three times bigger than the first. If we in the UK don’t sign and open this can of worms, it could cause the US to cancel or at least reconsider. If this happened, I suspect Dragon Technologies would collapse.’
‘As bad as that?’ Matt asked.
‘From what I hear in the committee rooms, they have sunk so much money into the development of the hybrid engine that makes Pulsar fly so quietly, they’ve been touting banks and shareholders ever since, looking for additional funding. The Defence Minister knows all this and it should give him reason enough to cancel our order as it throws doubt on the future availability of spares and upgrades, but the man is gung-ho for it.’
‘Perhaps Dragon got to him as well,’ Chris said.
‘I wouldn’t like to go around accusing a government minister of any wrongdoing without proof, although I do appreciate, details could well be contained in these files. However, if a financial crisis does engulf Dragon as a business entity, it won’t be the last we’ll see and hear of Pulsar. Other defence contractors are keen to get their hands on the helicopter’s advanced technology and will be keen to pick over the pieces.’
‘Vultures picking over the bones,’ Matt said.
‘Quite.’
‘So, do you think you can help us?’ Chris asked.
Spencer stood and paced the room, his face twisted in contemplation. ‘Noises coming out of the PM’s office are saying I’ve been too critical of defence spending in general, and Pulsar in particular. Some in the Tory press are calling me ‘anti-defence’ and in others, anti-British, the pillocks. This dossier of yours, Chris, changes everything. No way can I sweep the information it contains under the carpet, no matter what newspapers choose to call me.’
‘So, you’ll help us?’
‘Have any of the documents been published?’
‘I tried in one national newspaper,’ Chris said, ‘but Dragon found out and issued an injunction.’
Spencer snorted. ‘The nationals run scared at the slightest whiff of scandal, but I know others who’d bite our hands off for even a sniff of this. Even if they fail to be receptive, there are dozens of internet sites I could name who wouldn’t bat an eyelid about publishing. However, I think the best course of action would be for me to take this straight to the floor of the House.’
‘Is there a downside?’ Matt asked. ‘The documents were obtained following an illegal hack of Dragon’s computer systems.’
‘I know, and while newspapers can be gagged by court orders, Members of Parliament are protected by Parliamentary Privilege. This means I can say whatever I like on the floor of the House and I can’t be prosecuted if it offends, is libellous, scandalous or defamatory.’
‘Excellent.’
‘The people it’ll most annoy will be the Defence Secretary and his team as they are the main cheerleaders for Pulsar, plus any MPs and cabinet members who are or have been in receipt of Dragon’s lavish hospitality. The Deputy Prime Minister recently voiced his support for the project and this makes me even more suspicious.’
His smile faded as a thought crossed his mind like a black cloud on a summer’s day. ‘The Prime Minister will be furious and accuse me of trying to destroy our relationship with the US, rebuilt in the light of the Syria debacle. The press, of course, will enjoy a field day. If they don’t accuse me of being a heretic and start a campaign to have me burned at the stake, I will be very surprised.’
The conversation had moved from the optimistic hue of earlier to the damn near insurmountable. This was all reflected in Spencer’s face, now looking like a man who was walking out to the gallows to be hanged.
‘The whips will try and censure me as will the deputy leader,’ he said in a quiet voice, almost to himself. ‘They might threaten to withdraw the whip, but would they go as far?’
Matt looked at Chris who shook his head.
‘The odds appear to be stacked against you,’ Matt said after a tense minute or two. ‘We’d both like to thank you for listening. If you can let us have the names of the people you know in the media who might be receptive to an approach.’
‘Hold on there, you two, don’t lose heart, just give me a minute to think this through.’ He walked to the window again and gazed at view.
Chris looked over and Matt shrugged. Spencer was either trying to work out how to drop them gently or trying to think of a way to make it work without it kiboshing his career.
‘It may look at the moment like overwhelming odds,’ Spencer said, ‘but this place can amaze you at times. Start the ball rolling with something like this and people you don’t expect will leap out of the shadows and join your side. I will help you; don’t worry about it. After all, I didn’t come into Parliament to ignore important issues or turn my back on corruption.’
‘Excellent news,’ Chris said. ‘What happens now?’
‘Until this information is in the public domain, I don’t think we should meet here; there’s too many people coming and going. Let me think. Yes, let’s get together in a day or two at a flat I use nearby where I have a small office and can print some of this stuff out. In the meantime, there are a couple of people I need to speak with, to make sure when I get on to my feet, I’m not a lone voice.’
Matt shook his head. ‘It doesn’t work for us, Mr Spencer,’ he said. ‘People are out there looking for Chris as we speak. The longer we delay, the greater chance they’ll find him.’
‘You’re right, you’re right, I’m not thinking straight, I do apologise. Okay, let’s make a date for tomorrow night at my flat. I’ll need to move a bit quicker, that’s all. Let me give you the address.’ He scribbled it down on a piece of House of Commons notepaper and handed it to over. ‘How does around eight o’clock sound?’
Chapter 32
Rosie left the office at six-thirty and headed for the tube station. Some days when going into work she took her car if she intended going somewhere else, but on other days when she didn’t need it, and to vary her routine, she took the train.
The civil unrest which plagued Northern Ireland in the 1970s and 80s taught the security services one major lesson, routine and habit could get you killed. Dozens of part- and full-time policemen and military personnel were killed during the so-called Troubles because they drove to work at the same time every morning, took the same route they did the day before and came back home at the same time every night. It presented a gift to terrorists intent on killing any member of the security forces regardless of their sex, race or religion.
Targets for an HSA operation might include terrorist groups, criminal gangs or large organisations acting illegally such as Dragon Technologies. These groups were often well-funded with access to plenty of manpower and all manner of equipment and documents including cars, guns and false identification papers, and capable of targeting agents investigating them.
Every day, Rosie examined the underside of her car for explosive devices, checked the street where she walked for spotters and followers and, on returning home, scanned the neighbourhood for strange cars or people.
Neither she nor Matt knew who had compromised the safe house, but while Matt redeemed himself by stopping the two gunmen from killing Chris and Louise, she had to suffer the office banter and the wrath of the Director alone. Gill praised Matt for the professional way he had stopped an impending bloodbath, but spat venom, principally at her as the senior of the two, for the amateurish way both their charges had been exposed.
The Director could be a hard man to cross. With the memory of an elephant, he could recall the finest detail of operations undertaken twenty years before, and therefore an indiscretion like this one would not easily be forgotten. On the plus side, he didn’t hold grudges and balanced successes to failings. Like Napoleon, he liked his agents to be lucky. By this he didn’t mean an ethereal attribute neither visible nor measurable, but the sort of luck someone created through their actions, helping them to succeed more times than they failed.
Surfacing from the underground at Liverpool Street, she headed towards the train platforms. Services to Harlow were a bit odd at this time of the evening, some trains with a gap of only a few minutes between them and others, a gap of twenty-five minutes. One was about to leave in two minutes’ time and she stepped aboard with seconds to spare. She took a seat, loosened her coat and pulled out her ringing phone.
‘Hi Matt, how are you doing?’
‘I’m good. Where are you?’
‘On a train.’
‘I wanted to give you an update, but I’ll do most of the talking so you don’t say too much.’
‘Fine.’
‘I’ve just been to see Derek Spencer with Chris. We’re now heading back to Windsor.’
‘How did the meeting go? Did he believe Chris’s story?’
‘He believed him all right, but he can foresee plenty of problems ahead, like making him unpopular with the Prime Minister, and his party threatening to withdraw the whip.’
‘Sounds painful.’
‘It’s quite a serious step, so I’m told. It could mean Spencer is no longer considered part of the Conservative Party. At the next election, his party would field an official candidate in opposition to him.’
‘It does sound serious. Is it likely?’
‘He thinks he’ll be able to drum up enough support from other MPs and newspapers which will create a big enough stink to prevent the Government taking any action against him.’
‘Looking good. When’s the big reveal set to happen?’
‘We’re meeting Spencer tomorrow night at his flat and by then he expects to have a better idea how it’s all going to play out.’
‘Excellent work, Matt. I think I can see an end in sight.’
‘If this comes off, I can too. After receiving so much flak, Dragon will be forced to back away from targeting Chris and Louise and give us space to pursue the people behind the deaths of Chris’s family and Latif Artha.’
‘Let’s hope it does. Are you in the office tomorrow?’
‘I need to be in London around eight to meet Derek so I might drop by some time in the afternoon.’
‘Call me a sceptic but I’ll believe it when I see it. Bye Matt.’
Ten minutes later, the train arrived at Harlow Town station. She got off and walked towards the multi-storey car park. She stepped aside to allow the throng of people travelling the same way to pass and rummaged through her bag for her car keys. In fact, her car keys were in her jacket pocket. She did it to find out if the tall guy in the black coat, a man she caught looking at her on the train, was heading her way. He was. She shut her bag and walked towards her car at a brisker pace than before. When she reached the second floor, she ducked into a corner and waited.
At this hour of the evening, the door to any floor in the car park didn’t stay shut for more than five seconds, and by the time it had opened and closed another three times, the tall man came through. He walked down the aisle of cars but stopped and looked around, as if trying to remember where he’d parked his car, or perhaps searching for her.
She waited, conscious of the myriad of CCTV cameras dotted all over the car park. At this moment, the camera controller would be calling his boss to tell him about the strange woman lurking in the corner on floor two. The tall man set off as if he’d spotted his car but his bird-like mannerism of looking left and right at regular intervals left her suspicions-meter in the red zone.
The ramp to lower floors was on the side where her car was parked and, after allowing the guy time to reach his car, she headed for her own, safe in the knowledge she would be out of the car park before him.
