Chapter Five
Sam left the mayhem of Gerry's house and quickly went back to his car. Once safely inside, he grabbed his mobile and started to dial the telephone number of the forensics lab. After a short time, Dr O'Brien answered.
"Forensics, David O'Brien speaking."
"Good afternoon, Doctor, it's Sam Curtis. I was wondering if you had those lab results back on that gun I gave you?"
There was a short silence and then…
"Agent Curtis. I understand that you are currently under suspension and that I shouldn't be talking to you. Am I correct in that assumption?"
Sam sighed and cursed at the same time. Malone had been quick off the mark to spread the word, so there was no point in lying.
"Yes, you are correct, Doctor, I am currently persona non grata at CI5, but these results I am requesting have no bearing on why I have been suspended. I ask you this as friend, not as a CI5 operative."
Again silence for a while. Sam held his breathe because if the doctor told Malone about this, he would definitely wave his career goodbye, no question.
Then the strangest thing happened, there was a loud 'clunk' as if the phone had been dropped. He then heard the doctor say, "Damn! I've dropped the phone and it's skidded under the desk! Morgan! Come and give me a hand will you? My back has been giving me problems and I doubt I'd be able to get back up again if I got down on the floor."
Sam kept listening, wondering what on earth was going on. He heard a noise that could only be Morgan entering.
"No problem, Doctor O'Brien. Where is it?"
"It fell down here and ended up at the back by the wall. By the way, did you get those lab results back from that gun?"
There was the sound of a chair being moved and a man's voice struggling to reach the phone.
"Yes, apparently the gun did match the weapon that was used in the Anton murder. The police will want to know where it came from, doctor."
"Ah, just tell them it was left anonymously."
"OK, you're the boss! Here's the phone."
Then the line went dead.
Sam closed his eyes and thanked God for people like David O'Brien. He made a promise that even if the doctor's sister looked like Chris Keel, he'd still take her out. Putting his car into gear, he headed off towards Stephen Anton's house and realised that if he was dismissed from the service, he could always forge a new career as a house breaker…
Back at CI5 headquarters meanwhile, Chris Keel was seated at a computer terminal trying with great difficulty to hide his intense boredom. He didn't enjoy working on a computer when he could be out in the field doing some real work. Suddenly, the pencil he had been toying with broke in half. He looked up at Spencer and Backus, but they seemed to be coping with the desk work a lot better than he was. John Stockwell looked up from his screen. He was the head of the section that Chris had been assigned to and was unimpressed by the American's attitude.
"Is there another problem, Mr Keel?" He asked sarcastically.
Keel smiled with mock pleasantry. "Would it matter a damn if there was?"
"No. Not really. Have you completed that task I set you?"
Keel kept the smile plastered on his face. "No, but I have broken my pencil!"
Stockwell pulled off his glasses and stood up sharply. "I suggest you pull your finger out, Mr Keel, or I'll go to Malone and you will go the same way as Curtis!"
That was not a good move on Stockwell's part. Keel was up in an instant and had his hand on Stockwell's throat before the man could blink.
"You leave Curtis out of this; you don't know the facts so I suggest you keep your views to yourself!"
Keel had been so incensed that he hadn't heard Malone's approach. He was soon made very aware of this fact.
"Mr Keel, put Mr Stockwell down, now!"
Keel reluctantly released his grip and Stockwell backed off, his eyes wide in astonishment.
Keel was still angry as his boss spoke.
"Mr Keel, I think it would be best if you went home and considered your future with CI5!"
Keel turned around and insolently squared up to Malone as he replied, "Am I being suspended too, Sir?"
Malone was not in the mood for childish antics from his agents. He moved closer in to the American and lowered his voice to a dangerous growl.
"No you are most certainly not, Mr Keel, but I reserve judgement until tomorrow. Go home and get yourself together and come back tomorrow with a better attitude. You can't help Mr Curtis's case by assaulting colleagues!"
Keel anger dissipated under Malone's raw authority.
"Yes, Sir." He replied respectfully and he gave Stockwell one last glare before leaving.
Malone watched him go and sighed because an angry Chris Keel was a liability.
Sam had arrived at the Anton residence and was impressed by the size of the property. It was set back down a long drive and had 10 bedrooms. He had once again left his car and travelled on foot using the trees and bushes as cover until he was in a position to enter the rear of the house. The tiny lock picker whirred into life and within seconds Sam was standing in the basement. He felt naked without his Beretta and made a mental note to at least try to secure a weapon if he was going to keep doing this. Slowly and carefully he made his way around the various rooms and was happy to discover that the place was presently unoccupied. Now he had to find the file. Where would a man like Stephen Anton hide something so important? It was obvious the file was never presented to a new inquiry because it would have made the news somewhere by now. Also, the state of Gerry's place reinforced the fact that the Morris's were searching for it and it would only be a matter of time before they came here. Sam began to look for a hiding place, which in a house this size was daunting. Time passed and Sam was beginning to think about leaving, when he noticed a painting of a young man in the wall.
"Could you be the dead nephew?" Sam muttered to himself as he gently lifted the painting from the wall. Sure enough, there was a safe underneath. Who better to look after the evidence? Sam liked Anton's style. Since his days in MI6, Sam had discovered a natural talent for safe cracking and he had never been more grateful for the gift as he was now. Taking the tumbler he carefully listened to the gentle noises that told him he was cracking the code. After a short time he grabbed the handle and the door swung open. The file was in there as he'd hoped and so taking it quickly he closed the safe and replaced the painting before exiting the same way he'd entered. As he made his way through the undergrowth, he heard a car. Keeping still, he noticed two men get out of a dark blue BMW and make no effort to hide the fact they were breaking in. The front door was knocked open and they barged in with guns drawn.
'Subtle.' Sam thought to himself, before realising that these men were the same ones who'd been at his apartment the other night and that indicated that he had to move fast. He arrived back at his car and noticed another man standing by the drive. Sam raced past him and took off towards the town. Looking in his rear view mirror, he noticed the man at the gate speaking into his phone and Sam knew that this was trouble and he had to stash this file somewhere safe. Along the route he noticed a post office and grabbing the file he wrapped it safely and addressed it to Chris Keel along with a short note. He handed it over to be posted and then he got back in his car and continued his escape.
As he had foreseen it wasn't long before the dark blue BMW loomed in his rear view mirror. Sam was an excellent driver but these guys were something else. He tried every manoeuvre he knew but the BMW was closing and Sam knew it was only a matter of time before they caught him. At a sharp bend, he heard a loud gunshot and his rear tyre suddenly exploded. He desperately fought to keep control and it was only his skill and determination that kept the car on the road for as long as he did. It was inevitable though that speed, plus blown tyre, equal trouble and his car hit the kerb, flipped over and rolled, scraping to a halt and ending up on its roof.
The silence that followed the crash was pure. Sam had injuries to his ribs and head and had trouble getting orientated due to the fact he was hanging upside down. The silence was interrupted when the driver's door was wrenched open and he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
Through his dazed state he heard a voice say, "Dear me, you appear to have had an accident! Let us help you…" and with that his seat belt was released and he was dragged bodily from the car and pulled roughly across the ground. A boot kicked him in the ribs followed by another blow to his back. He was left in pain on the floor for a while before being dragged to his feet. He was held up by two men whilst a third stood in front of him and spoke.
"Where is it? " He asked with menace.
"Where's what?" Sam replied through his pain, blood from his head wound pooling in his left eye.
The fist came out of nowhere and struck him in the face.
"I'll ask you again, where is the file?"
Sam shook his head to try and get his vision straight and also spat blood out of his mouth.
"I haven't got a file!" Sam mumbled as his lip swelled.
The next blow was to his stomach and the pain made him gasp out loud.
"Don't think I'm stupid. We know that Gerry Owens contacted you and you were just at Anton's house and there is only one reason you would be there and that is to find the file!"
Sam coughed to get air back in his lungs; every breath hurting.
"I didn't find it. You interrupted me." He whispered barely audible.
The man thought about this.
"I don't believe you but it's easily solved. We'll take you back somewhere secure whilst we look for the file and if we don't find it then you'll die. And then again, if we do find it, then you'll die. Cuff him and push that car into the ditch!"
Sam's hands were secured behind his back and then his world went dark as a pistol handle whipped across the back of his head.
Chris Keel was not a happy man. He hadn't meant to attack Stockwell, but the idiot had asked for it. He had gone home and freshened up, but decided to go and see Curtis and see how he was faring. He noticed Sam's car was missing and so turned around to leave when one of the neighbours called to him.
"Chris! Can I have a word?"
Keel went over to where Peter Webb was waiting. He lived in the apartment across the hall from Sam and seemed a good sort.
"Hi, Peter, what can I do for you?" Keel ambled over, removing his sun glasses.
"Well I'm not too sure really."
Keel raised an eyebrow.
Peter smiled. "It's just that some odd things have been happening recently and I'm not sure whether to say anything to Sam, he seems so pre occupied lately."
"You can say that again!" Chris agreed. "What sort of odd things?"
"The other night, around 3am, I am sure I heard a noise in Sam's apartment like a scuffle? Then I heard the sound of somebody running down the stairs and into a waiting car. It woke me up and I know Sam had come home alone because we had a chat on the stairs earlier. I had a look out onto the landing here and I saw him returning to his flat, out of breath."
Keel's mind went into overdrive.
"Would this be Wednesday by any chance?" That was the morning Curtis had the thick lip.
"That's correct, but also earlier today I am sure there was someone in his apartment but Sam's car isn't here so who was it?"
Keel wasn't sure but it required investigation. He went and asked the caretaker if he would let him in because of Peter's concerns. The caretaker had met Chris and had no qualms opening the door. The sight that greeted him made him gasp. The apartment which was usually so pristine was a mess. He told Peter and the Caretaker that he would deal with it and not to worry. He looked around but there was no sign of Sam and every drawer and cupboard had been ransacked. He had no hesitation in calling Backup.
"4.5 to base."
"Go ahead Chris."
"I need a trace on Curtis's car. I am at his place and it looks like a hurricane had blown through and there is no sign of Sam. It would appear he has had unwelcome visitors."
"I'll get straight on it!" The concern was evident in her voice.
"I'm coming back in, something is very wrong here!"
Keel surveyed the devastation and for the umpteenth time this week, wondered what Sam Curtis had got himself involved in.
He arrived at headquarters shortly afterwards and went to Tina.
"I've put out a BOLO on Sam's car. What's going on, Chris, where is he?"
Keel sighed. "I don't know but something is wrong. He's not answering his phone which is odd and he left work the other night to meet someone without filing a report, which is very un-Sam like. I know he was meeting a man and I also know he has been pre occupied since then. Then he disappears to the lab and then loses the targets on a pretty simple surveillance. You tell me!"
"Tell you what, Mr Keel?" Malone had come out of his office. "I thought I ordered you to go home?"
Keel stiffened. "I did, Sir, but I'm worried about Curtis. I've just been to his place and it's been trashed and his car is gone. He isn't answering his phone either and this week he has been on another planet."
Malone surprisingly listened to Keels concerns.
"What do you think has happened then?"
"I don't know, but after he met someone the other night, things started to change."
Then Keel had a flashback to the conversation in the car from the other day.
"He asked me if I knew anything about the Morris brothers. I must admit I wasn't very responsive, so he let it drop."
Malone looked concerned. "The Morris brothers you say? If they have anything to do with this then Mr Curtis may well be in serious trouble."
He went on to explain their underground connections and vicious dealings in which people usually got hurt. Keel looked really worried and was kicking himself for not listening to his partner.
"It may be nothing, of course but as you say, Mr Curtis hasn't been on the ball this week and we may have found the reason. Mr Keel, Miss Backus, I want you to look into finding Mr Curtis and use any resources you deem necessary."
"Yes, Sir. We have started by looking for his car but hopefully we'll find him drowning his sorrows in a pub somewhere!" Keel said it, but didn't believe it.