Read The Black Hand Gang Page 13


  First of all he double-checked Matthews’s review of the Hines family. Marshall’s father had been traced to a bar in Singapore where a local MI6 agent had watched him for a week and confirmed he was a hopeless down and out drunk with few contacts apart from his cronies in the bar. Secondly he audited Mrs Hines. She seemed a nice lady with a normal background following the departure of Marhsall’s father. She had always worked hard and the references with her employers had been physically verified by agents. All the interviews confirmed she was driven by her need to look after her son, whom she dearly loved. The neighbours in the council flats in Haringey were followed and then casually interviewed by a friendly agent on the bus or underground. A chat about life, mutual friends and Haringey. It was very clever and built up a picture of a loving mum but then the investigation stopped. Matthews had drawn a line and reported to the team and J that everything was normal.

  However, one of the parameters that Wolf had entered into SPAM was a new tweak to his program. It was called the location coordinator and simultaneously logged phone calls and contacts with all government agencies including councils and the police against the subject’s name and age. Mrs J. Hines of Haringey was triangulated on the police records, the housing team’s in Haringey and a care home in Peckham. Wolf sat back in his chair and ran his hands through his dreadlocks. He swore to himself. Marshall’s mum was recorded by SPAM as missing. More worrying, was the fact that Matthews would have known this and had chosen not to follow it up. Why? He pushed the question to one side and went back to considering Marshall and his lack of gaming skills.

  Wolf had limited access to “world domination” but couldn’t see how well the other players had done. He could only see scores and assets in real time but he needed their histories. After a quick call to the MI6 database team he went for a walk on the roof of the building as they loaded the relevant data. It was a typical autumn afternoon in London. He leaned over the parapet and looked at the people rushing home from work. The tops of the plane trees were already brown and a few leaves were falling into the noisy traffic. Wolf thought about the children. No one knew where they were since they had left the Thames estuary. The satellites and radar had lost the speedboat and the trace team had concluded that it had been cloaked in some way. He stretched his arms above his head and then looked at the sun which was low in the west over Buckingham Palace. If Matthews had stopped the investigation at the most critical point, then Matthews had something to hide. He considered the facts. Matthews’s child was terminally ill, his pay was poor. Therefore, there was some emotional leverage against him. He decided it was not a matter to be investigated by anyone in MI6 as there was a risk that Matthews would find out and abort whatever he was doing. No, he needed Brett’s help, let the CIA check up on Matthews and report back directly to Wolf and J alone.

  Settled back in his chair, Wolf accessed the new database which showed all “world domination” players over the last 18 months, their scores and their assets on a daily basis. The database team had made it easy for him to assemble the five children’s names and create a table of results solely for the gang on the mission. The results were in a series of columns and rows allowing him to filter and then graph the top three assets by player over time.

  ‘Oh god no.’ He stared at the five coloured lines. Kate, Jack, Timmo and Roger had nice smooth curves, they were consistently good. The red line depicting Marshall was jagged. His performance always fell before midnight and the next morning it had shot up into the highest band again. Wolf muttered at the screen. ‘You were right Jack, someone has been helping Marshall.’ He sighed heavily. It meant one thing. There must be a link between Mrs Hines, Marshall and The Black Hand Gang. Morro’s deliberate inactions must also be linked - a way to cover up the link and for a reason. Wolf entered two new queries into SPAM and hit the return key. The first was “other Hines family members”, the second was “location now”. He turned on his IPod and selected his Bob Marley collection on random play. The answers were delivered to the screen within twenty minutes. An end of term photograph of a young Hines, brother to Marshall, taken at Haringey Comprehensive was on the left of his screen. Wolf cut it from the 400 other faces and enlarged it. He then took the CCTV coverage taken at The Houses of Parliament of the speedboat and crew before deciding to select the image of the pilot. He zoomed in and cut and pasted the face alongside the school photo. They were the same person. Robert Hines, older brother of Marshall Hines and missing since his teens was on the boat. Wolf’s heart was beating too fast, he breathed in deeply and tried to steady his panic. He had sent five children into mortal danger and it was all his idea. Five innocent children had been betrayed from within MI6 and Marshall was now being sucked into his past.

  * * *

  Wolf left his desk and went for a walk in Regent’s Park. After finding an isolated bench he sat and waited. His watch said five minutes to midday. At exactly midday a little old lady walked slowly by with her Corgi.

  ‘Can I sit here my dear?’ Her voice was high pitched and weak with age.

  ‘Sure.’ Wolf opened a newspaper, The Sun, bought at a kiosk near the office. He started to read it.

  The old lady spoke to the corgi which refused to sit next to the strange man. ‘Now now Brett, do behave.’

  It was the correct signal for Wolf to talk. He lifted the newspaper in front of his mouth in case they were watched. The latest lip synching software couldn’t analyse his words if there were no lips visible to any watching agents with cameras. ‘Dogs are such a pain especially named Brett’ She had turned away from him and pretended not to hear. He continued with the message. ‘Matthews hid Mrs Hines disappearance. Robert Hines was on the speedboat. Marshall’s “world domination” scores were fixed each night.’ He folded the newspaper and stood. ‘Bye, have a nice day y’all,’ and then he was gone.

  Ten minutes later, the old lady slowly rose and walked the dog home. Once she closed the front door to her house, she tied the dog to a banister and continued down the corridor to the garden and straight out of the rear entrance. After five changes alternating between bus and tube rides she arrived at the back door of a small nondescript house in the mews next to Grosvenor square. She walked through the door and entered the lift immediately at the end of the corridor. Within five minutes she was briefing the rest of the CIA’s operation conman team. Three hours later they had established that Matthews was a traitor and called J and Wolf to a private meeting in the US Embassy.

  * * *

  The last dramatic part of the children’s mammoth sea journey, in the fastest boat on earth, started near Port Said, on the northern entrance to The Suez canal. At 200 kilometres long having been gouged out of the desert at sea level so there was no need for locks, it is one of the greatest achievements of mankind. Completed in 1869 it was dubbed “the highway to India” in the east, as it linked The Indian Ocean with the Mediterranean. In 150 years it had saved countless sailors lives as they avoided the treacherous rounding of the Cape of Good Hope at the foot of Africa.

  Today the focus was on speed, as the speedboat shot through the narrow channel and turned to starboard to cruise down the eastern coast of Africa. Passing Somalia it was only Roger who remained awake out of the five children. Timmo was highly drugged and the rest were emotionally exhausted and dozing.

  Therefore, Roger the intelligent, could only mutter to himself. ‘At this speed, at least we won’t have a problem with the modern day Somali pirates.’

  Techno went towards the stern to check on Timmo. His eyes opened as Techno leaned close to his face to listen to his breathing.

  ‘Are you okay Timmo?’ His voice had softened as no one else could overhear, especially Twip Twop.

  ‘I’m quite comfortable thanks, and thank you for your help. I know you did the right thing by resetting my leg, it was just a shock.’

  ‘It was nothing really. I guess you remind me of my little brother when he was very young and I really didn’t want to see you in anymore pain.?
??

  Timmo grimaced slightly as he eased his body on the bench seat. ‘How do I remind you of him?’

  ‘He was bright and alert like you but was younger, maybe five years old, and he loved cars too.’ Techno was thoughtful before adding. ‘If I remember rightly, it was so long ago and so much has happened in my life since. No doubt the same applies for him.’

  Timmo touched Techno’s arm. ‘Maybe I will get to meet him?’

  ‘Not where you are going’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because I don’t know where my brother is and I don’t even know his name. I tried to find my mum and Michael but she had changed their names.’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Timmo, he was genuinely sorry for Techno as family was everything.

  ‘I do know he’s not inside Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.’ Techno stood up and went back to the front of the cabin to fiddle with the LCD screen. It predicted their arrival in Dar Es Salaam on the east coast of Africa in under an hour. Timmo was sensitive enough to stay quiet. He could tell Techno missed his brother.

  * * *

  The super boat pulled gently against a concrete jetty with its wall of old perished tyres to prevent damage to the hulls of visiting ships. The streamlining cover and hydrofoils had been withdrawn inside the hull from about 10 kilometres out and therefore the speedboat drew little attention on entering the vast natural port.

  The children climbed unsteadily onto the jetty in the cool evening and smelt Africa. It had a unique stench of wild animals and spices as the offshore breeze freshened and swept the scent seawards. Everyone was stretching as they heard the trucks with gunning engines as they came down the jetty towards the group. There were five Tanzanian army vehicles that had ten or more soldiers inside. At 100 metres the trucks pulled up and disgorged the soldiers who immediately fanned out across the jetty but strangely they faced towards the nearby city. They were there to guard their honoured guests.

  ‘Dar es Salaam, the haven of peace, that’s the translation you know’ said Roger. ‘Unlikely based on the number of soldiers protecting us!’

  Twip Twop replied with a giggle. ‘Unlikely because it’s a sprawling commercial city Mr Intelligent. Welcome to a world of corruption and strife.’

  ‘Do you know much about it?’ Asked Roger innocently.

  Twip Twop was serious for a moment. ‘It is where we enter Africa and so it is important to us for resupply. There are more than two million people scratching a living here, a port with trading links since The Sultan of Zanzibar conquered it and then the Germans and English of course. And now us.’ The seriousness passed as he leapt back down into the boat, resting three metres below the jetty. He was cat-like in his crazy movements. ‘Come on one leg, hoppity hop!’

  ‘Know all!’ Said Roger under his breath.

  ‘No’ said Jack, ‘that’s your job but sometimes you just need to shut up and not encouarge them. ‘It’s not pretty and actually, it’s not the capital. That’s Dodoma which is inland but the government is split between here and there.’

  Roger stared at Jack, it was unusual for him to have such a grasp of affairs. Jack winked at him. Of course, Wolf must have briefed him.

  A large red and white Augusta helicopter came swooping across the harbour waters at 50 metres above the small waves and landed immediately behind the army trucks. There was very little light left as the sun was going down inland of them.

  Techno spoke. ‘Your last hour’s travelling lady and gentlemen. Please follow us.’ He motioned to two waiting soldiers who climbed into the boat to carry Timmo out on a stretcher and he then started walking towards the helicopter.

  Jack needed confirmation. ‘So where exactly are we going Techno?’

  ‘To meet Madam Musseine. A mere 650 kilometres or one hour by helicopter to Mount Kilimanjaro.’ The children took a deep breath and carrying their kitbags, they followed him at speed. It was only Jack who realised why the journey had been undertaken by boat. A stealth boat at an unbelievable speed could never be traced by radar. A far more secure method of bringing in recruits from around the globe to play “world domination” for real. What he didn’t know was that there were 12 such boats and they had been very busy for more than three weeks.

  Chapter 9

  Too hard a mission

  The Augusta engines revved to a scream making the rotor thump the air above them and then they were flying over the outskirts of Dar Es Salaam. As the light failed, they could only make out dim silhouettes of a shantytown with rusting corrugated iron roofs and strings of multi-coloured washing and then it was gone. The blackness of the windows was only alleviated by the brightness of the first stars as they stared out, hoping for a glimpse of the magical Mount Kilimanjaro. In fact their first glimpse, was the fresh white snow on the inside of the crater called Kibo as the helicopter plummeted into it. The plunge made their stomachs turn and then they could see the rocks and steaming lake as the crater was bathed in bright white LED light. At the last moment before crashing into the base of the crater, the false floor opened to let the machine access the landing pad on level two. The rotors slowed to a halt and then the door was slid open to reveal a gigantic hanger bathed in an eerie yellow colour by the sodium lights. As they stepped onto the landing apron, they noticed the faint stench of rotting eggs, residue of the sulphurous fumes in the lake high above them. Although there was no one to greet them apart from two golf buggies with drivers, the children noticed the odd Japanese man dressed in grey, who casually manned the doors and the grand gallery that ran around the upper echelons of the hanger. Each man had a minimi machine gun hung on a strap around their neck and a set of katana combat blades strapped to their backs. Jack remembered Wolf’s private briefing. He had been right, MM had been recruiting ninjas.

  Timmo was loaded onto the first buggy and was immediately taken to the sick bay for an x-ray and a plaster cast. He was accompanied by Techno, his new “friend”. Everyone else piled into the second buggy including Twip Twop as their minder and then headed towards a metal blast door that opened automatically as they came within 2 metres of it. The ninja guards watched them carefully, studying their faces for future recognition. The buggy quickly ran down a long spiralling ramp towards level three and the accommodation block. No one spoke in their group, the sight of the second immense cavern was as overwhelming as the first.

  Then Kate expressed her shock as she stared beyond the lights to the darkness beyond. ‘There is so much emptiness,’ she had her hands to her face, ‘I never thought I would see so much of nothing!’

  ‘In fact you’re wrong Kit Kat.’ Rogers poked his glasses onto his face with his index finger. ‘Scientifically speaking, there are 60 billion neutrinos in each square centimetre around us.’

  She was annoyed, it had been a tedious journey with the boffin. ‘If you can’t see it, then it doesn’t exist.’

  Marshall was more interested. ‘What’s a neutrino Roger?’

  ‘One of the twelve particles that make up our universe, although there may be more of course.’ The children stared at the vastness and contemplated the trillions of invisible particles around them.

  Twip Twop pointed a flailing white hand as they passed a brightly lit area. ‘On the left is sector one for the technical boffins. That’s where we let the brains play at being god, designing all manner of clever things but not as clever as hands that can strangle.’ The children shuddered with fear, he was truly mad. ‘On the right is sector four for relaxation, a place I hate. Idiots can go there and play on idiotic games in the vast arcade. Stupid children who should be fighting each other rather than fighting computer images.’ Jack shook his head at Roger to keep him quiet. ‘Leaving sector number two at the far end of the cavern. That is where we are heading. It has the engineering block and also alongside is your comfy accommodation, a mini palace for esteemed visitors like yourselves. The buggy pulled up outside a partition wall constructed from grey plasterboard. The wall was unpainted but the door set within it was
blue. ‘Blue sector, blue doors for your quarters. Do you get it?’ They nodded their assent to the albino who was pushing the door open to lead the way in. ‘These five beds are yours, make yourself comfortable.’ Twip Twop turned on his heel and retraced his steps. They stood in amazement.

  ‘There’s no flippin roof!’ Jack was staring at the rocks 100 metres above his head. The lights above the five beds were suspended on a metal girder, 3 metres above them. The unpainted girder stretched beyond their sight but must have had uprights somewhere. Roger tried the light switch on the wall and the fluorescent tubes went dark. He flicked them back on to help them explore.

  ‘Great we have a hair dryer’ exclaimed Kit Kat who had pushed open an adjoining door and found the bathroom. The three boys rolled their eyes.

  ‘It’s horrible isn’t it. Worse than my care home in Peckham.’ Marshall threw himself onto a bed and heel flicked his lace less trainers onto the floor with a clatter.

  Jack sat on the adjacent bed. ‘Don’t worry mate, it’s been a long emotional day. You just need some food and sleep to make things look brighter.’

  Marshall’s pinched face turned to Jack. ‘It’s easy for you to say that, you never lost your mum and brother forever, your loss is only temporary “init”.’ His eyes brimmed with tears.

  ‘I know Marshall’ Jack clasped him firmly on his shoulder, ‘I’m truly sorry for your loss, but now you have us to look after you. You know, like the four Musketeers, “One for all and all for one!”’

  ‘So why are they called Musketeers when they always fight with swords and not muskets?’ It was Timmo, banging his wheelchair through the outer door by using his new plaster cast as a battering ram. They all gathered around him to fuss. Timmo reassured them he was okay. ‘It’s great now, really I have no pain guys. I’ve got some crutches too and the doctor said I must use them a bit each day to help the healing process.’