Chapter 3: Blackmail and deception

Face wasn't sure what woke him up. Perhaps it was the coldness of the damp room, or the hard, uncomfortable mattress he appeared to be lying on. Or maybe it was the excruciating, throbbing sensation exploding from the side of his face – the result of being stamped on earlier.

He gingerly touched the injured part of his cheek, immediately moaning in pain as the slight pressure of his fingertips seemed to escalate his discomfort. It hurt so much, Face wondered if his cheekbone was broken. He was also aware that his eye was swollen.

He glanced down and noticed is dirty and blood-stained jacket and clothes.

"Just dandy!" he thought to himself. "My taylor's gonna love me!"

As he slowly started to gather his thoughts together, the recollection of the three men abducting him triggered his memory and he wondered where he was.

He could barely make out his surroundings as he squinted around the poorly lit room. There were no windows and a small light bulb hanging from the ceiling seemed to be the only source of light.

He got up from the bed, swaying slightly as nausea momentarily overpowered him. He walked unsteadily over to the door, but wasn't surprised to find it was locked. He padded back to the bed and sat up against the headboard. With no obvious escape route out of the room, there was nothing he could do but wait for his abductors to make the next move.

It didn't take long for the bad guys to turn up.

"Hi!" he said casually. "Is this a good time to ask for an upgrade to a better room?"

Two of the over-sized sleazeballs who had captured him earlier, dragged him unceremoniously off the bed. Face sighed quietly to himself. He had a feeling it was going to be another lousy birthday!

A well-dressed, white-haired gentleman stepped forward, staring at Face in a disconcerting manner for several seconds before finally addressing him.

"You can get the diary from General Stockwell?" he asked him directly, not bothering to beat about the bush as to what he wanted. Face could tell from his tone of voice that he was expecting him to comply with the request.

"Well," replied Face. "Like I told Pinky and Perky here, I'm not exactly General Stockwell's number one fan."

One of the thugs who were holding him swiftly punched him in the stomach. Face winced as he doubled up with pain.

"You are Lieutenant Templeton Peck are you not?" the man scrutinised firmly in an authoritive manner. "Served with the 1st Air Cavalry and 5th Special Forces (Airborne). Medals, amongst others, include the Bronze Star, Purple Heart and the Vietnam Service Medal. Three unit citations. A very capable second-in-command behind Colonel John Smith, with a reputation for being able to procure anything at any time. So surely you should have no problems acquiring this small item for me?"

Face thought quickly about his next move. He knew Stockwell would never agree to give up the diary. It represented power and supremacy – two things that the General held in very high esteem – much higher than he held Lieutenant Templeton Peck. He tried to divert the conversation away from the diary.

"I appear to be at a disadvantage here," he said. "You seem to know all about me but I didn't catch your name."

"My name is Colonel Thomas Radcliffe," came back the terse reply. "I'm sure I don't have to spell it out to you, but I worked with your father on a specific assignment that I am very keen to keep under wraps."

"Let's get one thing clear," retorted Face. "AJ Bancroft is my father in name only. I knew nothing about his existence until a few weeks ago and know even less about his dirty dealings. If you've brought me here expecting me to spill the beans about what was in the diary, then you're going to be sadly disappointed. Get yourself another Stool Pigeon!"

Colonel Radcliffe remained silent whilst he listened to Face's lament.

"That's quite a speech, Lieutenant," he said, finally. "But I will get the diary one way or another. I was hoping that Stockwell would agree to a simple trade. You for the diary. If he complies, it will save a lot of time. If he doesn't, well we'll have to resort to other methods."

"Stockwell won't give the diary up," Face reiterated, quietly but firmly. "So why don't we just stop wasting time and skip straight to plan B?"

"Hmmm!" contemplated the Colonel. "Of course I do have other bargaining tools at my disposal to get want I want."

Face felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something chilling about this man's demeanour. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ellen was somehow going to be used as his bargaining tool.

"Look!" he tried to reason with Radcliffe. "If you're thinking of using Ellen Bancroft to blackmail me, it won't do any good. General Stockwell isn't a fool. He'll know immediately there would be a connection if we both go missing."

"That's why I intend to send you back, Lieutenant," explained Radcliffe. "I can get to Miss Bancroft at any time. But like you so rightly say, that would cause suspicion. There is no need to alarm the young lady just yet – unless of course you don't come back with the goods!"

"Let me get this straight!" said Face in astonishment. "You want me to go back to Langley, find out where the diary is and then bring it back to you?"

Radcliffe nodded in acknowledgement.

"And how exactly do you propose I achieve all this?" asked Face.

"I'm assuming, Lieutenant Peck, that you will use your unconventional talents to find a way to breach security and get to Stockwell," said Radcliffe. "Of course you won't be alone. You will have the back-up of one of my best men to help you."

"And what if I refuse to do it," said Face, defiantly.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Lieutenant," threatened Radcliffe. He shook his head in mock sympathy as he added, "Such a pretty girl. Would be a shame if her children lost their mother whilst they're still so young."

"Alright, Radcliffe, you've made your point!" Face spat the words out at him in pure contempt.

"You realise there can't be any mistakes," continued Radcliffe. "If anyone in your team suspects what you are up to or you fail to bring back the diary …. well … there will be no second chances for you or your sister."

"They're gonna realise it was me that took the diary at some point," said Face. "What the hell am I supposed to do afterwards? There's no way Stockwell will put me back on the team."

"I'm always looking for good men," offered Radcliffe, in what seemed like a genuine proposal. "With your skills and talents, you could have it all – money; power; position."

"No thanks!" rebuffed the conman. "I'd rather face the execution squad again!"

Radcliffe guffawed loudly at Face's remark.

"It would appear you have principles, Lieutenant," remarked Radcliffe, with an air of bemusement. "Obviously a trait you didn't inherit from your father!"

Face just stared blankly back at Radcliffe.

"Well, I don't think there is anything else we need to discuss," said Radcliffe. He snapped his fingers and the driver of the black sedan suddenly made an appearance.

"Take Lieutenant Peck back to his car," ordered Radcliffe.

"Is that it?" asked Face, a bit surprised at the abrupt end to the meeting.

"For now," replied Radcliffe. "My man will get in touch with you on your return to Langley. Oh, and Lieutenant," added Radcliffe with a snigger. "I think you ought to see a doctor about that face injury. It looks very nasty!"

Face ignored the remark as he was escorted out of the room by the driver.

Seconds after Face's departure, Radcliffe's deputy entered the room. He was a tall, black-haired Italian who went by the name of Vincent Luciano. He was well-known for his connections with the Mob.

He stood-by, a sly smirk on his face, as he waited for instructions from his boss. It had been his idea to kidnap Peck. But what the Colonel didn't know, was that when he had finished with him, Luciano had his own personal score to settle with Richard Bancroft.