Scavenger Hunt

  The major signalled in the direction of their temporary rock fort.

  The vehicles were two American style jeeps with machine guns mounted on the back. They had to change two tyres but they were good to go. The Warthogs had strafed the area with fragmentation rockets, sending white-hot shrapnel in all directions, designed to kill soft targets, hence the dead men and punctured tyres.

  Bob Explained to the major, “We’re going back to Baghdad, we’ve got unfinished business.”

  “Is that wise?” he questioned. “You’ll be on your own, your job is done here.”

  Dave looked at Bob and nodded. Bob knew what Dave was thinking.

  They took spare ammo and rations. The major said they’d be home by nightfall and didn’t need it. Bob and Dave set off back towards Baghdad, they had a job to finish, and Dave wanted payback for Poppy and Harry anyway.

  47

  As they started back down the track they'd walked along, they passed the hole where the crashed Chinook lay. There were a few natives hanging around but not much to see. They'd put enough explosives down to make Harry proud, he would have been smiling at them from wherever he’d ended up.

  “When we’re done here I’m calling it quits,” Bob sighed. “I’m too bloody old for all this running around!”

  “It’s not as if we’ve got to work for a living anymore, is it?” Dave said, smiling. “I’m going abroad somewhere, buy a villa with a pool. Get laid lots!”

  "You haven’t changed,” Bob smiled.

  “And I never will.”

  “Amen to that,” Bob agreed.

  As they got closer to Baghdad they decided to leave the jeep and continued the rest of the way on foot. Bob had remembered what Anshu had told them about their clothes, so they'd relieved a couple of the dead attackers of theirs and walked right into the heart of Baghdad, unhampered.

  ****

  Their first port of call was Anshu, he needed to do a lot of talking if he was going to see the next day. It didn't take them long to find him, remembering that Harry had said he hung out in a coffee shop in the old part of the city. He wasn't exactly pleased to see them, nearly choking on his coffee when they walked up to him.

  Bob grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. Anshu pissed himself there and then.

  “OK. Marhaba, my old friend,” he spluttered.

  Bob pushed him out onto the street, pulling him around the corner to the alleyway next to the shops. They reckoned on having about two minutes before they had the whole of the Iraqi militia breathing down their necks.

  “Okay, you piece of shit!" Bob spat. "You’ve got one life left so make it count. Who are you working for?”

  “OK. My friends," he said, looking at both of them. He was starting to sweat like a cheap whore. “They said they would kill my children!"

  “Who’s they?” Bob growled.

  "OK. You’ve already killed some of them. They were the people near the lake, in the house.”

  With this, Bob raised his right knee and planted it in Anshu’s bollocks, it made a dull thud, and he dropped like a stone. He puked up his coffee, and whatever part of a goat he’d eaten for breakfast.

  Dave pulled him up off the floor and was just about to have a go, when Bob said, “Wait.”

  Dave followed his gaze. There were several men walking towards them.

  "Follow my lead," Bob said.

  He put his arms around Anshu and started talking to him out loud, like a close friend, “Thank you for helping us. The British and American people will love you forever and will always be in your debt.” He took a wad of notes out of his pocket and shoved them into Anshu’s hand. Anshu tried to give them back, but Bob and Dave had already moved off, running around the corner. As they turned the bend they heard Anshu scream.

  Dave smiled, “I hope they chop his balls off."

  “It’s the kids I feel sorry for,” Bob huffed. "They’re the ones who’ll suffer.”

  “Fuck-em!” Dave cursed. “What about the kids Harry and Lucy would have had, then there’s me and Poppy.”

  Bob nodded, “Let’s go home.”

  They disappeared before anyone could stop them. Finding their way back to the jeep and driving straight for the border, non-stop.

  48

  When they landed, Lucy was waiting for them. She looked great, but her eyes looked lost and sad. Bob gave her a squeeze and started to tell her about what happened to Harry. Lucy stopped him and shook her head, “Don’t. I don’t want to know how he died.”

  He gave her another hug and they headed for the car.

  Lucy had hired a limo to drive the three of them back to the place in London where she was staying. She was enjoying the new side of life that money brings. They got the driver to drop them a couple of streets away from the address.

  Bob said, “Call me paranoid, but I don’t trust them.”

  “I know what you mean, mate," Dave said, looking around.

  As they walked to the house, Lucy said, “It’s been quiet since I arrived. I haven’t seen anyone or even felt as if I was being watched.”

  “I’m glad you’re settling in, Sis, but let’s still be on our guard, aye.”

  Once they were on the porch, Dave looked at Bob, he waited for Lucy to go through before saying anything. “There’s a white van at the top of the road.”

  “I clocked it as we turned onto the street,” Bob frowned.

  “Shall I go and say hello?”

  “We’ll both go down there later. Let’s get cleaned up and have a cup of tea first.”

  Later that evening, Dave looked to see if the van was still there, but it had gone.

  “I’ll go and recce the area,” Bob said. "I’ll be back in about half an hour.”

  “Okay, mate. Give me a ring if you catch anything.”

  The couple in the white van had heard the conversation and driven off shortly after to change vehicles, swapping all their equipment to a different coloured van. They had returned and parked at the other end of the street. Bob walked straight past them, not paying the van any attention.

  When he got back later, he said, “Have you seen this garden, it looks lovely.” They both went and looked at the flowers and the vegetable patch.

  “They’ve changed the van to a blue one," Bob smiled. "They must think we’re stupid.”

  “Okay, what now?”

  “Lucy! We’ve got to get her safe. Somehow they knew she was coming here,” Bob said, bending down and taking a flower in his hand and stroking it admiringly.

  “Shit! Can she go back home?”

  “They’ve probably already got it re-bugged up to the eyeballs, but at least she can go and stay with her friend.”

  Dave nodded, agreeing.

  Back in the house, Bob went upstairs to the loo. A few moments later, he called for Lucy, asking her if she could come and give him a hand with the bed. Once she was up there, he put his finger up to his mouth and whispered, “Shush!”

  Her face dropped, she started to go glassy-eyed, then shook her head and nodded.

  Bob hugged her, whispering into her ear, “Lucy we have to get you home, they’re staking this place out. They must have followed you and bugged the place when you were out. They would have already replanted the bugs back home but at least you can go and stay with your friend.”

  “Okay. When?”

  “Tonight.”

  They decided to go out for dinner, going to the local pub. It was crowded and noisy.

  “Lucy, are the keys still safe?” Bob asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Go home and post them to MI6.”

  “What?” she said. “They didn’t want them back.”

  “I know, but things are changing fast, plus they have the suitcase now.”

  “What’s the address?”

  “Just put, 'For the attention of MI6' on the address and write Free Post on the envelope. Put a note inside that just says, “This goes with the suitcase.”

  “Okay.”


  “Dave and I are going to pay a call on a man in a van, but first, we’re going to get you on the train.”

  ****

  When they got back from the station, they walked straight to the van. They were waiting for them with the doors open. They got in the front and waited for the driver to get in.

  “Buckle up!” he said, sarcastically.

  "Piss off!” Bob retorted.

  The driver shrugged his shoulders, got his belt on and just said, “Your life!”

  The drive took forty minutes, ending up at an address in Hammersmith. It looked like any suburban house you’d expect to find in that part of London.

  When they got out, the driver pointed at the front door, “In there,” he directed. He waited for them to get out and walk up the stairs and then drove off.

  Bob knocked. The door was opened straight away, and they were led down a hall and through a door to a room on the right. The only furniture present were four chairs around a table - they were set in the middle of the room, under a single light bulb that hung with no light shade.

  Dave looked at Bob, “You’ve got to be kidding, right!” It was just like something out of a spy book, he smiled.

  They were looking around at the room, talking about the events leading up to that point when the door opened, and Steve walked in. Bob and Dave just sat and stared, their mouths opening and closing.

  “Careful guys, this place has mice!” Steve tried to joke.

  Bob and Dave looked at each other, Bob speaking first “Steve! What the hell’s going on?”

  “You cunt!” is all Dave said.

  “Nice to see you again too, Dave” he looked at Bob, “Bob.”

  Dave got up to punch him, but sat straight down again, he was gobsmacked.

  The door opened, the older of the two men who had spoken to them over dinner, came in. “Good evening," he said, sitting next to Steve. “Steve here works for us”. He must have read Dave's mind because he answered his first question. “You’re probably wondering how he’s alive! Well, we did a little, how do you say, switcheroo. Finding a body to put in his place was easy, there are so many wannabe fighters in Iraq these days, and in the dark, we knew you’d misidentify him. As you went on to get to the safe, which we knew you would, we got rid of the body. Simple really.”

  They both got up and went for Steve, but the man pulled a handgun. “I’ll gladly put holes in both of you! You’ve been nothing but a bloody headache to me since Steve here, suggested your little gang, so sit, NOW!”

  They sat slowly, locking eyes with Steve. He just smiled.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Harry, he was unlucky, he was a good man," Steve said trying to sound sincere.

  “What about Poppy?” Dave said. “What was she then?”

  Steve just smiled.

  “Poppy. Sgt Davies," the other man said, "was killed in the line of duty, along with the other four soldiers. Their deaths would have happened anyway, even if someone else was doing the work for us. That helicopter went down because of enemy ground action, not because of what your group did.” He looked at us, “Now where are the keys?”

  They ignored the question and looked back at Steve. “You set us up, you bastard?” Bob growled.

  “No. You set yourselves up!" he said, pointing his finger at both of them. “You’re nothing but a bunch of greedy mercenaries. Did you really think you could send a load of diamonds through the post and nobody would notice? You really are incredibly stupid. It’s your greed that set you up, Bob.”

  Steve continued, “John went in to find the suitcase. Remember him? The one who became ill? He’s fine by the way. We knew roughly where it was, but we needed confirmation. Then we needed to get someone to recover the bomb for us, someone who wasn’t employed by us, the British government. You fitted in just right.”

  “You bastard, Harry died because of you.”

  The other man spoke, “Bob. What we didn’t bargain on, were you not finding it. Instead, you found the bloody diamonds.” He repeated the first question, “Now we need the keys, where are they?”

  “Piss off!” Bob shouted, curling his fists. Dave could feel the tension in the air, he sensed Bob was about to kick off.

  “Now, now, Bob," the man said, pointing his weapon at him. "If you want to enjoy the money you have while you’re still young, you’ll tell me where the keys are or you’ll spend a long time in prison, and your sister too!”

  “You touch Lucy and I’ll do what should have happened out there,” he growled.

  The man got up and walked to the door, Steve followed him like a little puppy. “Heel boy," Dave smirked.

  "Think about it, guys," Steve said, ignoring Dave. "We needed someone to find this suitcase; you guys fitted the profile: civilians, mercenaries, and greedy. Perfect,” he said, smiling. “The fact that only Harry died amazed us really, we expected only one of you to come out of this if you were lucky. Now the rescue team, Poppy and the other soldiers; that was always going to happen, even if it wasn’t you, not that they were going to die. That’s just unfortunate, but they would have gone in, even if it was with another group. If you’d all been killed in that house, no one would have ever known about it and we would have recruited another bunch of losers.”

  “What now?” Bob said. “We have the keys. You want the keys. We give you the keys. You let us go and leave us alone.”

  “Not quite,” the other man said. “You see, nobody knows who you are, so nobody would miss you. But, you did us a great service by getting rid of those rogue agents. That’s why you’re still alive now. Shall we say that alone is a thank you from us to you, of course, us, being the British government? If it was up to me, I would have had you shot.” He looked at them as if he’d just scraped them off the bottom of his shoe. “Now, here’s the next problem, you know about the suitcase, so now what do we do?” He looked at them, and said, “Dave, Bob, you’re both ex-forces, you both left the army for one reason or another and as far as anyone knows, you’re has-beens, invisible, forgotten. But, for arguments’ sake, let’s say, between you and me, Her Majesty’s government and these four walls that we let you back in, not the army but as MI6 operatives. Think about it.”

  They looked at each other, not believing what they were hearing. Bob said, "I thought we were already working for you?”

  The man looked at Steve, worried, then changed his expression straight away.

  Bob said, “What about Lucy?”

  “She won’t have to do anything,” he said. “She’s free to enjoy the rest of her life and her money.”

  “Do we have a choice?” Dave asked.

  The man just smiled and left, leaving them in no question that they didn’t.

  "Clocks ticking, guys," Steve said, turning to follow him out.

  The other man waited a few moments, then stepped back in. He smiled, and said, “Right, welcome to the club. We’ll be in touch.”

  They closed the door quietly behind them.

  Bob and Dave waited a few moments before speaking.

  “Bastards,” Bob said.

  “MI6, who would have thought it, me, a spy,” Dave quipped.

  In the hall they passed Steve and his boss, they were speaking quietly.

  “We’ll be in touch about the keys, soon," Steve said, as Bob and Dave left the house.

  Turning left at the bottom of the steps, the transport that brought them was nowhere to be seen. They looked for a taxi to get them to the station.

  “Dave,” Bob said, without looking at him. "Something ain’t right.”

  Dave nodded as they walked away from the house.

  “That was too easy, and what was with the room?” Bob said.

  They found a cab and asked the driver to take them to Kings Cross.

  “Docking,” Bob said.

  As soon as they arrived, they dropped everything and searched the house, removing any devices they found and stamping on them. They then rang Lucy.

  49

  The next day, the th
ree of them were sitting around the table, having eaten another of Lucy’s amazing breakfasts. They were telling her what had happened. She couldn’t believe they were set up. The rest of the morning was spent going over everything again, trying to make sense of it all.

  Two days later, they got a phone call from Steve, “Hi guys,” he said. “Where are the keys?”

  “Nice to hear from you, too," Bob said, sarcastically. "Yes, we had a nice trip back, thank you for asking. Now go fuck yourself!”

  “Now, now, Bob, there’s no need for all that aggression. We’re going to be working together now, so let’s pretend we’re friends for now, Okay?”

  “Fuck you!” he repeated.

  “Okay, have it your way. A courier will call at your house in one hour, give him the keys. We’ll speak again when we have them. Got that?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Bob put the phone down and suggested they all go for a walk.

  Lucy walked behind with her head down, she was crying.

  “They keep asking for those bloody keys,” Bob said. “I think it’s safe to assume they don’t know where they are.” He asked, “Lucy, did you send the keys?”

  “Yes. But I thought it would be better to send it by private courier, straight to the MI6 building in London. He rang me back to confirm they’d received them that night.”

  “Good thinking.” Bob turned back to Dave, “Just as I thought, Steve isn’t playing on our side.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it. They delivered us to a place in Hammersmith, set up a room in a house, now they keep asking us for those keys. Also, did you notice the look on their faces when I said I thought we were already on their side? If they were straight they would have known about them the moment they were delivered.”

  “He was right,” Dave thought. “Okay, what now?” he asked.

  “We need a safe contact,” replied Bob.

  “I’ve got an old mate, Nat, in the police, but he’s in Wales. He was in the army with me. Pulled me out of the rubble when I was blown up. I can give him a call.”