The garrison in Gibraltar was small enough for everyone to know each other fairly well. The peninsular colony was used to days, even weeks of high tension with their neighbour to the north. Harry Patterson was an old hand, this was his fifth tour on the Rock. He had served in the Falklands, northern Ireland and tours in a series of dusty , humid and hot former colonies and protectorates.
For the past 24 hours, the tension had been caused by a British fugitive, a murderer and from what the papers were printing this morning, an absolute psycho. On the newsstands the the front pages on both Spanish and British papers were shots of a grim faced ex-soldier broken by grief accompanied by the smaller wedding photo of a soldier and a pretty blond nurse and the murderer, who had been their best man. The history of Rider's arrest and exoneration, and how he had left Britain and his wife behind to work abroad. The heavily pregnant NHS nurse had fled after the firebombing of her London flat. That a former friend had targeted his wife Helen, all caused by his perceived 'betrayal' for moving abroad and working freelance after the incident in the Duke of York Public House, which had ended his illustrious career in the British Army. Helen Beckett had moved every three to six months, in fear of another attack, and had never returned to London. The frank and brutally honest press conference had revealed John and Helen Rider were still lovers, who shared parenting of their eight year old son. He had lost his best friend, the love of his life and the best mother in the world. The man had broken down when he spoke of having to break the news to his son that his mummy was dead.
Colour Sergeant Patterson threw down the Sun. "I know John Rider. I was a character witness at that farce of a trial eleven years ago, and yes, his wife Helen was too good for him." Captain John Rider had been defending his units honour that night from the defamatory insults from drunk and violent out-of-work taxi-driver. The headline screamed 'Bloodbath in Murcia' with a the sub headline "Nurse Helen slain by Ex's Psycho Best Friend' and showed a tearful face of tarnished war hero, John Rider. Patterson had personally witnessed the selfless disregard of a young lieutenant for his own life when rescuing a critically injured corporal under heavy fire, in the process being injured. Rider had insured Darren Copsey was with the unit medic before leading the charge to take the entrenched machine gun position in a fashion remnant of D-Day valour. The sight of the the tall, blood soaked and angry para had caused the Arggies to flee in terror. This mornings editorial spoke of a couple forced to divorce and that John's first priority had been to keep Helen and his son Alex safe. "If that bastard Howell is on the Rock, we are going to find him. All leave is cancelled. Our unit is on street patrol. First and foremost we are to protect the public. Ronson, Day and Woodford take sniper positions, same locations as our last street exercise. Get a clear line of site on the 'suspect', take that bastard Howell down. I will take the fall for it in any enquiry, that is my order you are following."
The Interpol arrest alert for Howell was photocopied and given to each patrol pair with the detailed description of their target. The word had done down that the Governor wanted it 100% sure no one in his jurisdiction was hiding that piece of filth.
…
There was no chance they would escape the press in either Alicante Airport or in Dublin. John had chosen to fly commercial to direct all attention away from who he worked for. Rashida, had travelled from London to help with Alex and had brought her teenage son, Mo. She was there as Helen's best friend, a friendship renewed once Ash had left England for his exile in Australia. The nurse was talking frankly to Alex, trying to explain the less savoury details revealed by the police to the press and the ongoing manhunt. Gruesome descriptions of the desecration, mutilation and necrophilia of Helen Beckett's body had made it into the press. "Whatever you read, or whatever anyone says the doctor promised me, Mummy did not suffer, that man who took her did horrible things to her dead body, but she was already gone and in heaven. Mummy died quickly and painlessly in a struggle. The man who did this is very sick, they will use words like psychopath, insane, delusional and deranged to describe his actions. You must keep close to me, Mo and daddy. Do not look at the photographers, they will be calling out your name and shouting questions. We will go from the car and straight into the airport. There will be security to ensure we are not stopped but it will be very loud, crowded and scary. Just like a rugby scrum"
John was on the balcony overlooking the high-rises of Alicante waterfront, taking a long drag of a Marlboro. He had started smoking again, a habit he had taken up while undercover in Fermanagh and Donegal in the late seventies, but had quickly given up as Helen had hated the taste and lingering smell of burnt tobacco. He stubbed out the cigarette and wished Cossack was still here. The funeral was already planned for Athlone. and was going to be small, family and friends only. Helen was to be buried next to her cousin Mimi. Father Seamus Brennan was officiating the funeral mass and internment. The same priest who had blessed their hasty wedding and christened Alex. A man who had warmed to John with the revelation that the divorce had been only to protect Helen, and in truth the couple remained devoted to each other as much as their separation allowed. The funeral was set for a week tomorrow, three days after Alex's birthday. All celebrations on hold. John had planned for them to go hiking and to visit the few Brennan relatives of Helen's grandmother. If MI6, were expecting a full turn out of corps board of directors they were going to be disappointed. Julia was due in a meeting in Berlin, no one in her position was ever seen to take personal time or have any family commitments ir other such weaknesses. Cossack was back on assignment and John wished he could trade places. Rashida had taken two weeks of work and had refused John's offer of covering her missed wages. John was thankful for Helen's friend, who effortlessly organised arrangements with the Spanish Authorities, the Airline and two Funeral Directors, while looking after her son and Alex.
Alex was emerged from his bedroom looking very pale, dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sneakers; carrying the small rucksack containing his belongings. Most of his possessions were still part of the ongoing crime scene at their apartment in Murcia. Small for his age and skinny, he looked younger than his eight years.
Alex had stayed silent since John had told him his mummy was in heaven. The little boy had eaten very little and had only brightened up with the visiting teenager's unending enthusiasm and energy for the video games and dvd's he'd brought with him. Alex had since asked if he could get a Nintendo DS with Super Mario Cart with his allowance, if he saved up.
John was tempted just to spoil Alex, but buying him everything he asked for was not going to replace the hole in their lives. He was going to have to learn how to be both mother and father, nurture, teach and mould Alex and deal with the damage caused by the actions of Anthony Sean Howell. John would forever regret not just shooting that bastard in the head, but he had stayed off murder, to prevent any retaliation from MI6.
The car was already waiting for the trip to the airport. A local hired vehicle driven by a a retired policeman. The ex-spy could only hope things would be less stressful in Ireland, to the small cottage Helen had returned to at least once a year for holidays. It was familiar to Alex.
The apartment had been hired by John, there was no paper trail to Scorpia. If anything happened to him, Rashida had promised to look after Alex. The worried father wanted no terrorist or espionage connection to mar Alex's childhood from know on.
….
Private McAllister and Lance Corporal Danvers were making their third circuit of network of streets around the Main Street when they spotted a man matching Anthony Sean Howells description, with the distinctive faint scars visible despite the dark glasses, hat. "We call this in, the local police will want make the arrest, we just have to make the area secure and get all the civilians out."
