Lost and Found

Summary: At the British Eurotunnel Terminal on the first day of half term, a car is found to be carrying something horrible. Section D are called in urgently, but time is not on their side.

Spoilers: Potentially anything up to 6.4 (The extremist)

Set: Immediately after 6.3, spanning to a fortnight after 6.4, but ending before 6.5

Rating: M, Spooks must always be an M in my opinion. There is no sexual content that would carry a rating over a K+ and very little violence is seen to be inflicted, but far, far worse is discussed and its results are seen in some detail.

Genres: Suspense, drama, HC

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Spooks, only the plot and the few original characters are mine.

27/10/07
6:50 AM
Eurotunnel Terminal

Constable Callum Williams of the British Transport Police set down his half-finished tea, picked up the leash of his sniffer dog, Davey, and stomped back out to his post. It was going to be a long day, half term had just started. People were rushing for the Channel Tunnel, like they always did.

He made it to his checkpoint and looked up. A navy blue ford car was first in line. A bespectacled white man sat in the driver's seat, the front passenger seat was empty.

"Good morning Sir," He said, smiling, as the driver wound down the window. "Passports please." There was a child, probably less than two, slumped asleep in a car seat, Callum Williams could just see her round the sunscreen stuck to the inside of the window.

"Sure." The man had an American accent. He handed Callum Williams two UK passports, one for himself, one for the girl. Jason and Annette Brewer, apparently. The photos were a good enough likeness, the dates were fine. Callum Williams handed the passports back.

"Thank you Sir and did you pack the car yourself?"

"Yeah, last night."

"Any chance anyone could have tampered with it since?" Davey was looking intently to his left. Likely as not he thought he'd seen a rabbit. He wasn't the most reliable dog Callum Williams had ever had.

"Not really, it spent the night in a locked garage."

"Any bottled gas or other flammable materials on board?"

"No."

"And any animals."

"No."

"Sounds good to me, I'm just going to let my dog check you over. Davey, go seek." Callum Williams slackened the dog's leash. Davey started the pattern he'd been taught, got to the level of the rear door handles, then gave up and bolted for the boot. He ran his nose up and down the rim of the boot, sniffing fervently, and refused to move on. That wasn't a positive scent, if he got a positive scent, he froze. But it was something he wanted.

"That's odd." Callum Williams remarked aloud.

"I got a lady dog at home, she was in there yesterday." The man called from the front of the car. "That'll be what he wants."

"Would you mind coming and opening the boot for me, Sir." Callum Williams said, walking back to the front of the car, dragging his dog.

"I don't think you want me to do that."

"Why's that Sir?" Callum surreptitiously tapped his radio. If there might be trouble, he might as well get someone out of the tea room to help him.

"Cause, ah… You're gonna think I'm such a weirdo, but there's a dead deer in there. We're going to see my sister and her husband does taxidermy, you know, stuffs things. I saw this deer knocked down on the road yesterday, was pretty fresh, so I thought, I'm going to see the guy anyway, he'd love a dead deer to play with. So I wrapped it up good and tight and stuck it in the trunk, but it's over a day dead now, it won't be a good smell if we open that up."

"So any animals?"

"I always figured that meant live animals, like dogs or whatever."

"Is there a problem?" Constable Lucy Small asked, walking over.

"No, this gentleman was just about to open his boot so we could have a look."

"No, I was saying that nobody wants that outcome, the smell will be pretty bad."

"I'm sure we're big enough to cope with it." Callum Williams wondered why the man was making a fuss. He wouldn't move on until Callum Williams was happy with him, so why was he drawing this out.

"Look, just let me through, I'll make it worth your while. I wanna catch my crossing."

"And you will if you just open the boot."

"Twenty bucks, each."

"Sir, are you aware that attempting to bribe a police officer is a crime?"

"It's not a bribe, it's just dinner for you and your wife and me getting on my train."

"Well, how about you exit your vehicle, open the boot, we have a quick look, then you can get on your train and keep your forty pounds?"

"Fine." The man said loudly. He opened his door, nearly in to Lucy Small, and slammed it shut again. To Callum Williams's surprise, the little girl in the back didn't wake crying. This just didn't smell right.

"Heavy sleeper, your little one." He remarked.

"What? Yes. Yes she is." He pulled at the boot with one hand. It didn't open.

"It's jammed." He pulled it again.

"Oh dear." Callum Williams said calmly. "We'll get some help for you with that." He flipped a switch on his radio. "Backup to checkpoint four please, backup to checkpoint four."

"Look, there is nothing in there! Let me get on the train, else I'll report you for harassment."

"You are of course welcome to lodge a complaint, Sir, but please open the boot."

"I told you, it's jammed."

Two more officers, Peter and Chris, came walking up.

"Morning gents, we're just trying to open this gentleman's boot, we're having a little trouble."

The man was getting angrier by the second. "They are the trouble. I told them already what's in there and they will not let me go!"

"Let's get this sorted quickly then Sir." Peter said. "May I try the boot?" He held out a hand for keys. The man stood for a moment, hesitating.

He grabbed Peter by the outstretched arm and flung him sideways in to Chris. The force of the two men overbalancing together knocked Callum in to the car.

"Checkpoint four to all units." That was Lucy. "We have a suspect fleeing north on foot towards the Travelex. Repeat: suspect fleeing north on foot towards the Travelex. Not known to be armed, but has behaved violently." Callum pulled Peter to his feet. Chris rolled on to his side and coughed. "You OK?" Lucy asked. All three of them nodded.

"What on earth was that about?" Peter asked. "And he's left his kid."

"I don't think he has." Lucy said.

"What?" Chris asked.

"That would have woken anyone up." Lucy was staring at the little girl. She was still motionless. This kept on getting stranger. Callum tried the door handle – the car wasn't locked – and reached for the little girl's hand. He felt the cold, hard surface of fibreglass.

"She's a dummy." He said.

"Why would..?" Chris started.

"Well how often do you do a full search on a car with a toddler in it?" Lucy asked.

"So what does he not want us to find?"

.

The man sprinted north, back along the lines of lines of waiting cars, jumping bonnets where there was no room to run between them. They filled every lane in every direction almost back to the car park. One policeman so far had tried to stop him. The man had just pushed him out of the way and kept running. He was gasping by the time he reached the Travelex, he looked around, then made for a man just getting out of his car.

"Stop in the name of the law!" A man's voice shouted. The running man ignored it.

"Give me your car!" He bellowed, grabbing the driver and pulling him out of the way. He got one leg in to the footwell, but the driver held on to the second. The man doubled back and drew back a fist to punch the driver off, but sharp-nailed hands found his face. There was a woman in the passenger seat, and in the dawn he hadn't seen her. She grabbed for his face, screaming for help, screaming curses at their assailant. The fleeing man broke free from her and bolted out of her grip, headlong in to another police officer.

But this one was ready for the impact, set his weight to meet it. The fleeing man fell to the ground, dazed. The officer rolled him over and cuffed him before he'd had time to consider how to get up.

"I'm arresting you for assault and attempted theft of a vehicle. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

.

The four officers set the dog to search the car again, but he simply wasn't interested in anything but the boot. Lucy Small crouched down and sniffed at the edge of the boot. She grimaced.

"That's rank. It smells like… like a loo at a festival or something." She reached for the handle of the boot.

"Don't." Peter said. She looked back at him. "If I was trying to get a bomb past a dog, I wouldn't try to get the smell off, I'd put something really strong smelling round it."

"Dogs'll smell past near enough anything."

"Do you want to risk it? I'd rather call the Bomb Squad."

Bomb Squad arrived, three more men who cordoned off a wide area, causing the holiday queues to get even worse, and set about the car methodically. They had their own dog who, like the first, sniffed curiously at the boot for a second, then moved off again. Callum Williams and Lucy Small came back inside the cordon, curiosity overwhelming fear, and watched as they drained the fuel off then opened the bonnet, every hand hidden under latex. They moved on to the front seats, shone lights under them, looked in the doors, opened the glove compartment.

"Look at this." One said, pulling out a safebox. Someone else pulled a key out of the driver's door. It fit. The box contained three glass drug bottles, no paper label, just the letters 'K', 'V' and 'T' inked on, and a needle and syringe.

"Let's add provisional drug charges to the list. 'K' is usually Ketamine."

"Not enough for him to be dealing it, looks like personal use."

The fibreglass child was removed and checked, the car seat followed. What looked like a basic electrics kit was under the car seat. The suitcase beside it held a man's clothes, a flick knife, more needles and a larger, unmarked, drug bottle.

"That might be dealer's quantity."

They came to the boot. All five officers stood in an arc around it. One of the bomb squad pressed the button and lifted the boot.

The nauseating smell that had drawn the dogs was suddenly much clearer. Stale urine, dung and something more acidic, almost like vomit. There was a large, black, zipped up fabric bag in the back. The Bomb Squad looked it, and the two cases beside it, over for wires and triggers. One man grabbed the cloth bag by the handles and pulled.

"Ooh 'eck. That's heavy." Another man helped him to haul it out of the boot and on to the floor. It had left a wet patch in the boot under itself.

"That's what smells then." One of the Bomb Squad leant forward and tentatively unzipped the bag.

Both men near enough to see what was inside jumped and swore.

.

A man lay inside. He was entirely naked, his light brown skin was mottled with bruises. There were newly scabbed cuts on his feet, face and hands. Small circular burns were scattered across his thighs and forearms. His wrists and ankles were taped together, then cable tied to each other. There was lumpy black-brown fluid around his mouth and nose.

"Go and call the beat cops." One of the Bomb Squad said. "This is a murder charge now."

"Is he..?" Lucy Small pressed forward. "I think he's…" She reached out, grimacing at the smell, and touched his neck. "He's warm. Call an ambulance." Callum Williams turned and started to run back for a phone. "And I think that's a pulse! He's alive!"

Please review, let me know that you are reading, and if you have any theories as to who this man is, please do tell me.