Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.
I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.
But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.
Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and back on the treasure hunt.
…
I’d kept out of Nadia’s way since then, and the few occasions our paths had crossed, she had studiously ignored me. After graduating she disappeared, and seeing here with Alex, just now, was the first time in years.She had grown into the sort of woman you’d see in the social pages of the newspapers and magazines, sometimes for all the wrong reasons, and I wondered if that was how Alex had leveraged her co-operation.
But, there were bigger problems to overcome before I had a chance or find out her back-story.
Alex was going after Rico for the map, a map he didn’t have, a map that Rico was going to need and Boggs was going to suffer the consequences.
Or not, if I could do something about it.
I had a stroke of luck when I got back to the warehouse office where McDonald was waiting, not necessarily for me, but most likely Alex.“Ah, Sam,” he said when he saw me walk through the door, “Come into the office. We need to have a chat.”
That sounded ominous. I wondered if it had anything to do with my absence for what seemed a long time when I’d been watching Alex and Nadia.
“We have a new opening on the afternoon shift, and I thought you might consider it because it pays a little more, with a shift allowance. The hours are 4pm to Midnight. What do you think?”
On the way back to the warehouse I’d been thinking about how I was going to help Boggs and keep the job because the hours I was working made it impossible to do anything during the day, other than spy on Alex.
Taking this afternoon job, I could work, and, in the mornings, help Boggs in his quest.
“When would this start?”
“Tomorrow. You would not have to come in till 4pm.
“Sounds good then, I’ll take it.”
He seemed more relieved that I had accepted. It made me think for a moment whether this was Alex’s idea, and he had an ulterior notice. If he did I guess I would soon find out.
An hour later I was on my way home.I had a lot of items to talk about when I saw Boggs and a possible mission.
The problem is, there are familiar faces and a question of who is a friend and who is foe made all the more difficult because of the enemy, if it was the enemy, simply because it didn’t look or sound or act like the enemy.
Now, it appears, his problems stem from another operation he participated in, and because of it, he has now been roped into what might be called a suicide mission.
…
I had hoped we’d land in daylight, but I could see the benefits of arriving at the landing strip after darkness had fallen, and a more primitive form of landing lights had been used.
Less interest from the local people and no bright lights lighting up the runway.
The only lights I could see from the air were the primitive landing lights, fires burning in used fuel drums, and a glimmer of light emanating from two of the buildings set back from the airstrip.
It did worry me, probably more than it should, that the pilots would be landing a plane of this size in virtually a paddock, flying by the seat of their pants, and all credit to them if they got the plane on the ground. I guessed they’d flown into more than one hot spot around the world, and at least at this one, they were not being shot at.
Their turn around would be quick, just enough time to take on a small amount of fuel and then leave. No one had said if it would be a fuel tanker or by drums and hand pumps.
The plane had a short distance to go from the end of the runway to what might be called terminal buildings. The moment the engines were cut, there was a flurry of movement, and after the fuselage door was quickly opened by the co-pilot, then the rear access ramp lowered and standing at the end, once it hit the ground, I could see a tanker and a Land Rover heading towards the rear of the plane, with only small headlamps on.
Monroe had joined me. Behind me was a hive of activity as the team moved the crates of camera equipment to the end of the ramp, and then the individual packs. Jacobi was escorted down on the ground by his two-man guard.
“Is this necessary,” he asked as he passed by me
I ignored him.
The Range Rover stopped just by the bottom of the ramp, and two men got out, one I assumed was Colonel Chiswick, former British Army, came over to train the local soldiers, and didn’t go home, and the other a Ugandan soldier with Sergeant stripes. Perhaps this was one of their airfields feeding supplies and troops for border patrol duties.
Monroe went down first, and I followed.
Chiswick came up to me, holding out a hand. “James, I presume?” I shook it.
I nodded towards Jill, “And Monroe.”
“Welcome to nowhere in particular.”
In the distance, another three Range Rovers were heading towards the plane and then stopped within easy distance of the ramp to easily facilitate the moving of the camera equipment into the rear. Drivers of the cars ushered them, taking their packs and putting them in the back.
I saw a meaningful look pass between Jacobi and Chiswick. They knew each other. No surprises there. If Chiswick was running this base, then he’d have to know about Jacobi whom we knew had friends in all the high places on every side of the fence.
Another car pulled up, a jeep. “For your man to get to the base. I gather he has his instructions?”
Mobley nodded, threw his pack in the back, and the jeep drove off.
“Nice night,” Chiswick said, finally, “Glad it’s not raining, or it would have been a rather sticky landing.”
“How long before the plane leave?”
“About an hour. Don’t worry. Planes come and go here all the time, so no one really cares much.”
The crates, packs and other men were loaded and taken away. Monroe had a final word to the pilot, now down on the ground and supervising the fuel loading, then joined me in the Colonel’s car.
“You’ll be leaving just before first light. Best to get away before the villagers stir. There will be one or two curious souls, but they’re harmless. The soldiers here have been informed that you are here for a training exercise, nothing unusual as we get squads from all over from time to time. As I said, your arrival will have caused little interest.”
From the locals. It was anyone else other than the locals I was worried about.
“Excellent.”
There was not much else to talk about in the few minutes it took to get to the compound at the back of the so-called terminal buildings. It consisted of about ten large barracks, an administration building, and what looked to be a mess.
Pale lights were showing from one of the barracks, and seeing the cars parked out the front, I assumed this was where we would stay until we departed.
The Colonel didn’t get out of the car. “We’ll be leaving at 04:00 tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re ready to go.”
“You’re coming too?”
“Bamfield asked me. Wants to make sure you had someone who knows the lie of the land.”
“I thought you’d delegate that to a few of the soldiers.”
“No. Can’t have them involved in an incursion or there will be trouble. This is an off the book’s operation. Looking forward to it, actually. There are a few people over there I’d like to have a talk to if we get the time.”
I shrugged. Just one more problem to deal with. The Colonel didn’t strike me as being a talker, but a man who let actions define who he was. And just because Bamfield vouched for him didn’t mean he might be not be working on his own retirement fund.
This story is now on the list to be finished so over the new few weeks, expect a new episode every few days.
The reason why new episodes have been sporadic, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.
But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.
Things are about to get complicated…
Behind me, I could see Dobbin moving towards the door.
“You really don’t want to do this,” I said.
“He offered me a better deal.”
“I give you these, you will probably have about an hour, two at the most before he kills you.”
She shrugged. She was a deadly shot, so it was not an option to talk her out of it. I threw the plastic bag to her.
“This way, at least, you live. You’re good, but too trusting.”
Dobbin opened the door. “Enough chit-chat; let’s go before someone else turns up. Walk away Jackson, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
I watched them leave, then turned to Anna. “This should please you immensely.”
“You mean you couldn’t see it coming? Hell, with all that analysis it wasn’t hard to work out Dobbin was the one orchestrating everything.”
I pulled out my phone and dialled Joanne’s number. When she answered I said, “They just left.”
“With the data?”
“With what they think is the data.”
“You have it?”
“No. O’Connell had it, and someone got to him. He’s dead next door, by the way, and we have two medical cases, one relatively serious, both requiring an ambulance sooner rather than later.”
“On it. And thanks.”
I went over to Anna and sat beside her.
Jan was glaring at us. “You said no one would get shot.”
We watched her slide over and join us against the wall.
“I said Jennifer was an unknown quantity. I didn’t think she’d take me so literally, but on the other hand, the signs were there. In training, she shot at three of the recruits.”
“Well, she didn’t recognise me, which, I guess, is something.”
“Who are you again?” Jan asked her.
“Yolanda. I was at the training camp with Sam. Severin made a pass at me, I kicked him in the you know what’s, and he kicked me out. I never gave back the comms unit, and I used to listen in to the exercises and discovered they’d finally been activated, so I went to have a look. Things got very scary when the target started taking out the surveillance team. They were out of their depth. Then I caught up with Sam, called him, and asked him what was going on. He said the target was going to the café and for me to go around the back, no time for hello’s. A minute or so later I see a guy toss something into the back of the café and take off. Then it goes up and all hell broke loose. Naturally, I got the hell out of there, and called him later, asked if he needed some off-book help, and here I am.”
“Could have been the death of you.”
“Nah. Sam and I were the best two of that bunch, and then maybe Jennifer. Damn that bitch to hell now. Hope they give us five minutes with her.”
“So,” I could see Jan was still wrestling with details. “Anna died in that explosion?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know who Anna was?”
“Not at first, but when I saw a photo of her, and the similarities I shared with her, Sam suggested I take her place, and we took it from there. Sam told me where I could find O’Connell and it wasn’t hard to reconnect, it was six months and he didn’t notice the changes in Anna, which, to me, is a sign of bad tradecraft. He still had the money, I pretended to still have the USB but not with me but back at the flat. He tested the USB and found the right level of encryption, then gave me the five million pounds, and we parted. Now he’s dead. When Sam arrived, I thought it was going to be me next.”
“How did you know what sort of encryption was on the USB?”
Good question. Jan was thinking outside the box, which is what any agent should be doing.
“We spend a few weeks off and on in training, studying encryption techniques, but concentrated on one, for reasons we were never told. I realized that it was related to the eventual mission. It wasn’t hard to emulate. I made up about a dozen USBs just in case.”
All the worries we thought we might have in getting from Lake Louise to Calgary, in the end, it was just like driving to work, only a little longer.
When we left the Fairmont, the car had two frozen bottles of water and a frozen donut, left in the car for the two days we were there, so hiding in the garage might not be a good idea.
At the garage where we refueled, it was so cold I could barely clean the windows and glad to get back into the warmth inside the car.
Thankfully as we got closer to Calgary, it got warmer.
We bypass the city going to the airport, but, as it turns out, we would not have had much time to look around anyway.It’s nice to go to an airport and actually find the car rental returns first go with adequate signing to get there.
Returning the car took a few extra minutes because we were at the end of a dozen or so others who turned up at the same time. All good, they remembered giving us a half full petrol tank.
At the check-in, it is very smooth sailing, the kiosk working and once the booking reference was entered, it spat out the desired number of boarding passes and baggage tags.
Then to baggage drop, through customs where I managed to lose my jacket, which is amazing that you would be allowed to leave anything behind.
So…
We have an hour and a half to kill, so a long soda and two long island teas settle the pre-flight nerves if we had any to start with.
Time to consider the vagaries of the flight.
Today we’re on an Airbus a320, and we are seated in the very last row, row 33. It’s always a bad thing to look up planes on seatguru.com, because it has painted them as the worst on the plane.
What’s the downside, sometimes the seat pitch is less than further up the plane, the seats don’t recline and you get the seat in front in your face, and you get the constant flushing of the toilets. And my major bugbear there’s no overhead luggage space.
What’s the reality?
To begin with, the seats recline, but not very much. We’ll wait till the plane is cruising before judging how far the seats recline in front of us.
The seat pitch is good and it doesn’t feel like were cramped into a small space, but again this is relative to what happens with the seat in front.
Overhead baggage space, none whatsoever, so if you don’t get on first you are basically screwed. We were almost first to the rear of the plane so I suspect others also know about the lack of overhead bin space.
Being at the read most part of the plane affords you a view of how the baggage handlers treat your baggage, and it’s interesting, to say the least. They smile a lot, so I suspect that a few bags might get the ‘treatment’.
Enough already.
We’re now backing out of the bay ready to leave.
We’re getting endless announcements in foreign languages so when next I fly with Air Canada I should at least learn French.
Or not…
Ah, the smell of kerosene floods our end of the plane. So much for air quality, which so it happens is being covered in the safety video at the exact same time.
Is that depression speaking, or am I just tired from all the late nights?
Unlike most writers, authors and bloggers I don’t have a day job. You could say it’s one of the benefits of getting old, this retirement thing, but after a while, not having a reason to get out of bed starts working on your subconscious.
The idea of having a job, and going to work, is a good reason to drag yourself out of bed every morning. And because of this, the idea of sleeping in takes on a whole new meaning.
You know, I’ll just lie here for a few more minutes, and then I’ll get up. Having turned off the alarm, the eyelids flutter, and before you know it, half an hour had passed, and you wake up in fright, knowing you’re going to be late.
In retirement, that doesn’t happen. There is no alarm, there is no guilty pleasure in spending those extra minutes in bed.
Of course, this tardiness, or lack of desire could be because I find I do my best writing in the dead of night, often not getting to bed before 2 a.m. Last night it was a little later because of a story I’m working on came to life with a new idea.
It had been stagnating because it’s part two and whilst I had an idea about where it was going to go, in the end, we’re off in a different direction, and the words flowed. You just don’t stop writing when you hit a vein.
But this isn’t always the case. This morning I have an excuse to stay in bed, but most others I don’t.
Perhaps I should find something else to do, something that will give me that same reason I used to have to get up every morning.
Or maybe I should be more organized in my retirement life, you know, set a schedule and do things according to a timetable. I was never one for being organized, but perhaps it’s time to start.
Just let me lie here for a few more minutes and think about that.
50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.
They all start with –
A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:
And, the story:
Have you ever watched your hopes and dreams simply just fly away?
Everything I thought I wanted and needed had just left in an aeroplane, and although I said I was not going to, i came to the airport to see the plane leave. Not the person on it, that would have been far too difficult and emotional, but perhaps it was symbolic, the end of one life and the start of another.
But no matter what I thought or felt, we had both come to the right decision. She needed the opportunity to spread her wings. It was probably not the best idea for her to apply for the job without telling me, but I understood her reasons.
She was in a rut. Though her job was a very good one, it was not as demanding as she had expected, particularly after the last promotion, but with it came resentment from others on her level, that she, the youngest of the group would get the position.
It was something that had been weighing down of her for the last three months, and if noticed it, the late nights, the moodiness, sometimes a flash of temper. I knew she had one, no one could have such red hair and not, but she had always kept it in check.
And, then there was us, together, and after seven years, it felt like we were going nowhere. Perhaps that was down to my lack of ambition, and though she never said it, lack of sophistication. It hadn’t been an issue, well, not until her last promotion, and the fact she had to entertain more, and frankly I felt like an embarrassment to her.
So, there it was, three days ago, the beginning of the weekend, and we had planned to go away for a few days and take stock. We both acknowledged we needed to talk, but it never seemed the right time.
It was then she said she had quit her job and found a new one. Starting the following Monday.
Ok, that took me by surprise, not so much that it something I sort of guessed might happen, but that she would just blurt it out.
I think that right then, at that moment, I could feel her frustration with everything around her.
What surprised her was my reaction. None.
I simply asked where who, and when.
A world-class newspaper, in New York, and she had to be there in a week.
A week.
It was all the time I had left with her.
I remember I just shrugged and asked if the planned weekend away was off.
She stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, hands around a cup of coffee she had just poured, and that one thing I remembered was the lone tear that ran down her cheek.
Is that all you want to know?
I did, yes, but we had lost that intimacy we used to have when she would have told me what was happening, and we would have brainstormed solutions. I might be a cabinet maker but I still had a brain, was what I overheard her tell a friend once.
There’s not much to ask, I said. You’ve been desperately unhappy and haven’t been able to hide it all that well, you have been under a lot of pressure trying to deal with a group of troglodytes, and you’ve been leaning on Bentley’s shoulder instead of mine, and I get it, he’s got more experience in that place, and the politics that go with it, and is still an ally.
Her immediate superior and instrumental in her getting the position, but unlike some men in his position he had not taken advantage of a situation like some men would. And even if she had made a move, which I doubted, that was not the sort of woman she was, he would have politely declined.
One of the very few happily married men in that organisation, so I heard.
So, she said, you’re not just a pretty face.
Par for the course for a cabinet maker whose university degree is in psychology. It doesn’t take rocket science to see what was happening to you. I just didn’t think it was my place to jump in unless you asked me, and when you didn’t, well, that told me everything I needed to know.
Yes, our relationship had a use by date, and it was in the next few days.
I was thinking, she said, that you might come with me, you can make cabinets anywhere.
I could, but I think the real problem wasn’t just the job. It was everything around her and going with her, that would just be a constant reminder of what had been holding her back. I didn’t want that for her and said so.
Then the only question left was, what do we do now?
Go shopping for suitcases. Bags to pack, and places to go.
Getting on the roller coaster is easy. On the beginning, it’s a slow easy ride, followed by the slow climb to the top. It’s much like some relationships, they start out easy, they require a little work to get to the next level, follows by the adrenaline rush when it all comes together.
What most people forget is that what comes down must go back up, and life is pretty much a roller coaster with highs and lows.
Our roller coaster had just come or of the final turn and we were braking so that it stops at the station.
There was no question of going with her to New York. Yes, I promised I’d come over and visit her, but that was a promise with crossed fingers behind my back. After a few months in t the new job the last thing shed want was a reminder of what she left behind. New friends new life.
We packed her bags, three out everything she didn’t want, a free trips to the op shop with stiff she knew others would like to have, and basically, by the time she was ready to go, there was nothing left of her in the apartment, or anywhere.
Her friends would be seeing her off at the airport, and that’s when I told her I was not coming, that moment the taxi arrived to take her away forever. I remember standing there, watching the taxi go. It was going to be, and was, as hard as it was to watch the plane leave.
So, there I was, finally staring at the blank sky, around me a dozen other plane spotters, a rather motley crew of plane enthusiasts.
Already that morning there’s been 6 different types of plane depart, and I could hear another winding up its engines for take-off.
People coming, people going.
Maybe I would go to New York in a couple of months, not to see her, but just see what the attraction was. Or maybe I would drop in, just to see how she was.
As one of my friends told me when I gave him the news, the future is never written in stone, and it’s about time you broadened your horizons.
The Fairmont at Lake Louise, in Canada, is noted for its ice castle in winter. This has been created by the ice sculptor, Lee Ross since 2007, using about 150 blocks of ice, each weighing roughly 300 pounds.
When I first saw it, from a distance, looked like it was made out of plastic It’s not. Venturing out into the very, very cold, a close inspection showed it was made of ice.
And, it’s not likely to melt in a hurry given the temperature when I went down to look at it was hovering around minus 10 degrees Fahrenheit.
It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.
John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.
So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?
That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.
What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.
He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.
The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.
All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.
