For the Love of God and the Arab Rising

  Chapter Eleven: The Stake Out. ‘Steve, let me look at that folder, have you got it with you?’ In between each painful wince as I wash and soak away my painful cuts and bruises; I inform her that the originals are in the car at Heathrow. But: there’s a copy of the memory stick and the letters on our cloud computing site. Just log in and you’ll find it, it’s all there. ‘Get a laptop from reception and let’s take a look’. Thirty minutes later and Catriona is in full flow, speed reading line after line. ‘Nothing leaps out at me, what could be so important?’ ‘Look at item: 03 on the letter to Ray. It mentions a guy called McGovan; do you know who that is?’ ‘Not at all except that I read he is a well-known villain, a bloody menace to your average citizen.’ ‘It lists McGovan as an expelled brother of the Stratford East Masonic Lodge. How an earth he ever managed to be accepted in the first place is any ones guess.’ ‘It can only be money Steve, we all know money opens doors, call it bribery or charitable donations, but that’s the short of it’. ‘Ray is definitely some sort of courier and if McGovan is involved it can only be illegal and to do with money, and lots of it’. ‘There’s a letter addressed to Ray from the Stratford East Lodge, so we can assume Ray and McGovan did belong to the same lodge before McGovan was expelled; and then there’s some minutes from a New York Lodge meeting, that’s it. I can’t for the life of me guess why someone would track us down in New York, strip our room and give me a kicking to boot, in the search of this paperwork; can it be that important?’ ‘We are missing something Steve, keep thinking, and let’s keep this on the go. Even when they get the paperwork, you probably know too much all ready and you know what that means. It means continual trouble, now and in the future; this will not go away unless we sort this out’. ‘Cat; the only clues we have are that Ray is a Masonic courier and that he has several communications from a New York Masonic Lodge. And McGovan knows Ray as they were both brothers of the Stratford East Lodge. Also: Two New York hoods, or more, must know them as they chased me through half of Manhattan after this paperwork’. I have told them the paperwork is in my car, which it is and they will have it shortly, this should buy us some time. They know we are in this hotel, so we need to move, and not go home as our house has been or will be a target’. But what they don’t know is that we have a copy of this paperwork, available to us here and now, via cloud computing.

  ‘Let’s ‘stake’ the place out then, the New York Lodge Address is on the letter; and the heat will be off for a while if they have the paperwork’. The first thing to do is move accommodation; there are hundreds of motels on the edge of town. We pack our bags double time, double check the room before we leave and thank our hotel manager: Juan, profusely. We catch a cab to the car hire depot and are on our way in a Honda 4X4 within 35 minutes. Catriona drives while I watch for a tail. A short drive out of Manhattan and we come across a small Motel, it will do as a base, and hopefully a secure one at that. It’s now 10pm and it’s getting late, but we leave for something to eat, and then head out to the address shown on the minutes from the New York Lodge. As we approach the general area we slow down. We are in Bridge Water Township, a middle class residential area approximately 75 km west of New York, on interstate 78. We drive towards the main commercial road that cuts through Bridge Water. Catriona is studying the map and we slow even more as we look for our destination; two more blocks and then we head down a side street called Sunset Ridge. Then take a second turn and we are there: Buxton road. The atmosphere gets a little quieter and now feels far more sinister. The street lights are there, but further apart, it’s just not as well lit. We find a parking slot and exit the car; coats zipped to the top and hats pulled down hard, its freezing. A thug of a man suddenly appears out of the gloom and is looking directly at us, we keep moving but my insides are frozen solid with the sudden visual impact of this guy. He walks past us and the tension subsides. ‘Keep going Cat, its further down and it’s on the left.

  What we are faced with is a quiet street, white with snow, but dark as the street lights are non-existent. Thankfully the moonlight reflects of the snow and gives some visibility. I have to brush the wind driven snow off the road sign to double check it’s the right street. Nearly an hour passes before anything happens and my feet are going numb with cold, I literally cannot feel my feet so we go for a walk around the block. Blood starts to flow through my veins once more, but my extremities fail to come back to life, I cannot feel my toes and half of my feet. We stand at the far end of the street and wait, tapping our feet and patting our hands to keep them warm. Then, at last, a car turns the far corner and I am instantly alert to what may happen next. As it draws closer I nudge Catriona, it appears to be the same black car that I was bundled into, which was a black Cadillac. I do not know the registration number but it looks exactly the same. They pull into the front car park of what looks like an old and small postal building, the tyres crunching their way through the snow without effort. The place is in reasonable order and about 100 years old. Built from plain brick; the red, soft looking type, with ornate concrete pillars and decorative lintels supporting the windows and doors. The tall roof is covered with patches of snow, but lack of insulation allows us to see patches of dark red biscuit tiles and the gables are designed with tall acute angles. Ornate concrete is again used on the gable ends to tie everything together and the glass is frosted, so no one can see into the place.

  Cat, Its them, the two big guys who sat in the back with me and gave me a kicking, and the driver, smaller, but just as bloody nasty as the other two. They shuffle their way through the fresh snow and enter the building through a side entrance. ‘Steve, what shall we do?’ ‘Let’s wait a little longer and see if they settle in to something or leave’. Only five minutes pass by, when two more cars turn up in convoy, a ford galaxy utility vehicle and a Range Rover, the ford is black and the Range Rover is coloured a dark metallic orange. They are moving at speed, but easily make the turn into the street and park with an abrupt but short skid. Two men get out of the ford, both in suits, and both weighing at least 270 Ibs. Just one guy gets out of the Range Rover, again wearing a suit; the same build but taller. This is a big guy; now I’m not racist, this is a modern world, but they are all black, noticeably so. They greet each other in the car park and appear to be having a good time talking about a recent event. The big guy out of the Range Rover is patting the other guys on the back as if to congratulate them. ‘That’s six guys now Catriona’. ‘I can count Steve!’ ‘Shall we get closer?’ ‘No. Not yet. We have no gear, no cameras; or anything to defend ourselves with’. It must be a good hour before anyone exits the building, it’s the threesome again: the driver and the two goons that mugged me the other day; shortly followed by the other two and the big guy who is obviously the boss.

  Cat and I realise there are three cars to follow and so we will need to decide which vehicle to follow. This could be a difficult choice, so we head back to the car and decide we’ll pick one of them up on the main road out of Bridge Water. ‘Hang back Cat, stay 3 cars behind the Cadillac; it’s those bastards who gave me a kicking’. The choice is made; so we tail them out of the Bridge Water Township and on to the main turnpike, taking the 78 Interstate back into New York City. It’s a steady drive at the speed limit with no drama; Catriona’s driving, so I take down the plates as we swap lanes and get a good view of each vehicle. The Range Rover scoots off at junction 15. We follow the Cadillac and the Ford Galaxy into New York City. It’s dark, bloody cold and the entire place is lit up: like only New York would be at Christmas, or any other time of the year come to that. After a slow drive through the traffic of Manhattan, we work our way through the financial district and over Brooklyn Bridge once more, it must be their home patch. They cruise down the main drag, suddenly swerving to the right and pulling in; the Ford Galaxy is always a few yards behind, but the minders never exit the vehicle. The two goons exit the Cadillac and approach a young lad leaning against a wall outside a pool hall. It’s a friendly greeting of trusted comrades, even if t
he lad does look a little edgy. They enter the building, but soon exit about twenty minutes later with two small bags; it has to be drugs money. Then there back into the car, the doors slamming firmly shut. The car immediately accelerates away, joining the traffic with perfect precision. ‘Go Cat; keep three cars behind, no closer’. ‘What are they doing, is it drugs, protection money, or both’? It’s another four blocks before they pull over again, and they approach three guys hanging around in a parking lot. We are on the edge of Brooklyn now, some way away from the big city lights and there is not so much traffic around; I ask Catriona to pass them by and pull over at least 100 metres down the road. ‘What are they up to Steve?’ ‘There talking. There! The young one in pumps and a bomber jacket has just passed what looks like a wad of cash to the big guys; and is openly dealing with another guy. ‘Steve, let’s not waste any more time, we are gonna get caught and we are unprepared’. We have the Lodge address, and two sites of business. We need some protection, possibly a couple of small pistols and some surveillance kit, a camera etc’. ‘Yeah your right, let’s not push it, I can call Jeff as well to check the house and retrieve the car. We can go and get cleaned up, and get something to eat’. ‘My only question is: if these guys are dealing drugs, and they know Ray and McGovan, what is going on between them? It can only be illegal and bad for your health. It can only be a drugs deal; can you believe it!’ ‘Shall we go to the police?’ ‘No, we need more evidence; we’ll regroup and start again tomorrow’.