‘Mark?’ Mei’s voice was barely audible over the comms unit, which was threatening to drop from his ear. ‘You there?’
He winced at the throbbing in his head and blinked his eyes open.
How long had he been out?
Pushing the earpiece more firmly in place, he rolled onto his side and squinted around the carpark. When his gaze fell on his custom Nighthawk pistol, lying where it had slid beneath the nearest vehicle, he rolled closer and snatched up the weapon.
Sucking in a breath, he staggered to his feet to lean on the vehicle’s roof. ‘Knight and Lee,’ he wheezed into the comms, ‘got away.’
‘Are you alright?
‘Yeah.’ He took another steadying breath. ‘Heading back to the apartment now.’
‘Good. Luke’s on the way.’
At a rap on the front door, Mei checked the peephole before opening it.
‘How’s Fatboy?’ Spooky asked as he entered.
Placing a finger to her lips, Mei whispered, ‘He’ll hear you.’
With an amused eye roll, Spooky strode past her to where Joel sat at the dining table. Looking the obese man up and down he said cheerily, ‘Hey there, buddy. You’ve lost weight.’
With a chuckle that set the flab wobbling from his jowls to his knees, Joel reclined further in the chair. ‘Hah! Only about five pounds, but thanks for noticing. It’s good to see you, Spooky.’
‘You too.’ Leaning across the table, Spooky locked hands with him in an epic handshake.
Noticing Mei’s perplexed expression, Joel chortled, ‘Fatboy is my handle. I started using it back in the seventies, when CB radios were popular.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded.
Releasing Joel’s hand, Spooky straightened and turned to Mark, who was nursing an icepack on his knee and another on his temple. ‘You okay?’ On receiving a slow nod in reply, he asked, ‘So, what happened?’
‘Knight and Lee is what happened.’
‘Weren’t you supposed to call me if you ran into trouble?’
‘It all happened too fast.’ Mark shook his head gingerly. ‘There wasn’t time.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s often the way it goes down.’ Spooky clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’re lucky to be alive, kiddo.’
Joel’s chair groaned as its overweight occupant rose to lumber to the fridge and grab a cola. ‘Anyone else like a drink?’ When there weren’t any takers, he shrugged, popped open the can with a fizz of released bubbles, and slurped a mouthful. ‘Ah, that’s good.’ Wiping a hand over his dribbling mouth, he glanced at Spooky. ‘So, what happens now?’
‘We need to get you to a safe house, in case they try again.’
Eyeing him, Joel once more put the can to his lips. After sculling the remaining cola, he crumpled the empty can in one bear-like paw. ‘Won’t they know where all the safe houses are?’
‘Not this one.’ After a quick check of the time, Spooky hiked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Go pack your stuff. We’re out of here in five.’
‘Right-oh.’
As Joel lumbered up the stairs to the bedroom, Mei moved to stand sentry at the base of the stairs. Turning to eye Spooky, she asked, ‘What do you think made Knight and Lee do this?’
‘Go rogue, you mean?’
‘Yeah.’
He shrugged a compact, muscular shoulder. ‘Could be any number of reasons. Money, power, payback ... or all of the above.’
‘Payback?’ Mark shot Spooky a questioning frown.
‘You know, “stick it to the man” type stuff.’
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know about Lee, but Knight might want to get back at the government.’
‘Why? What did the government do that was bad enough to make him turn traitor?’
‘Knight’s an ex-Commando, and a proud one at that.’ Spooky arched an eyebrow. ‘He liked nothing better than to brag about his unit. “Superior in every way to the SASR” he used to say. So you can understand his anger when the government decided to throw both units, not just the SASR, under the bus in a knee-jerk response to the recent trumped-up war crimes allegations.’
It was Mei’s turn to frown at him. ‘You mean the war crimes Ben was accused of?’
Spooky nodded. ‘And Ben wasn’t the only one copping the heat. After allowing the media to vilify members of both units, the ADF threatened to take away their medals and disband the Special Forces and Commandos.’ He paused, sombre. ‘Knight lost his little brother in Afghanistan, so it’s likely he saw red when they tried to take away his brother’s posthumous medal.’
The two agents nodded their understanding, and Mark asked, ‘So, who would he be trying to offload the Valkyrie files to?’
The stairs creaked as Joel made his descent, bulging suitcase in tow. ‘I can’t tell you who,’ he announced, puffing, ‘but I followed the hackers’ electronic footprint. It terminated at an internet café in Shenzhen, China.’ Pausing, he leaned his bulk against the railing to take a breather.
Spooky glanced up at the big man. ‘Sounds plausible. The art of “Shanzhai” is still alive and well in China. Their cyber spying campaigns have been well documented, and they’re notorious for taking creative license with the work of others.’
‘Yeah!’ Mark exclaimed. ‘They’ve made knock-offs of Nike shoes, Rolex watches, and even Mercedes Benz sports cars.’
‘And in military terms,’ Spooky went on, ‘they copied the Soviet’s AK47, tanks, and the Sukhoi Su-27 jet fighter. They’ve even made clones of the US F-35 Lightning and the latest Northrop Grumman stealth drone. I’m sure they’d love to get their hands on the blueprints for the Valkyrie.’ He shrugged. ‘Of course that’s just me thinking aloud. We don’t have all the facts yet—’ At a chime from his pocket, he whipped out his mobile phone. ‘Modeen?’
‘Change of plan, Spook. I need you to secure the IT tech and pick us up from Pearce Airbase in one hour.’
‘We’re about to drop Joel off at a safe-house.’
‘Good. On the way, call in at NatSec’s assets facility in Redcliff and pick up a Hawkei.’
‘Roger that.’ As he spoke, Spooky stepped into the apartment’s hallway and beckoned for the others to follow.
Mark tossed the ice packs into the sink as he moved to join the other three.
Putting his eye to the wide-angled peephole, Spooky checked the courtyard at the base of the complex’s stairs.
Clear.
With one hand beneath his jacket gripping his Glock, he opened the door and they filed out.
Driving back over the causeway to the southern side of the river, Spooky barked, ‘Keep an eye out for any tails.’
The other two scanned both sides and behind as they motored along the highway and turned off at the exit to the residential suburb of Belmont. There, they passed some sixties-style houses on quarter-acre blocks sporting the low-pitched roofs typical of the era. These were being crowded out by a growing number of modern duplexes and townhouses, all crammed into the recently subdivided blocks cleared of past dwellings and the memories they contained.
When Spooky nosed the Aurion into the driveway of a timeworn house on the corner of Connell and Daly streets, Joel squinted through the car’s tinted side window. From behind a bore water-stained asbestos fence and eight-foot tall wrought iron-gate, the house lights illuminated a courtyard full of lemon and plum trees dripping with fruit. ‘This doesn’t look like a safe house to me,’ Joel muttered.
Spooky was busy typing a text on his phone. After sending the message he sat back with the motor running, and waited.
The street that was normally full of kids by day was now empty.
The groan of the rising roller door sounded harsh in the quiet, and set the neighbourhood dogs barking. As soon as the roller door was above the height of the Aurion, Spooky idled the vehicle inside the semi-attached garage.
It was a tight fit. Joel struggled to open the car door wide enough to unload his huge bulk, and then had to squeeze himself between the vehicle and the garage wall to join the others already standing by the Aurion’s bonnet.
‘Wie gehts, Luke?’ a wavering voice called from outside the personnel door.
When a bald, elderly man appeared in the doorway, Spooky smiled and extended a hand. ‘Albert! Good to see you.’
After they shook hands, Albert raised questioning brows at Spooky.
‘We need to use the shelter.’
Albert dipped his head. ‘Natürlich. Come.’
The four followed him around the side of the house to a dilapidated asbestos lawn-locker crudely attached to the back wall. After wrestling the rickety wooden door open, Albert reached in to flick on a light.
Joel’s eyes widened at the collection of ride-on mower, rakes, shovels, wheelbarrow, and other garden implements filling the space, and he muttered, ‘No way.’
Putting a hand on his shoulder, Spooky said quietly, ‘Just wait,’ and helped Albert move the mower outside. Returning to the cleared floor space, the old man bent and with a grunt, opened a trap door in the concrete floor, revealing a flight of stairs.
Spooky nudged Joel. ‘Down you go, after Albert.’ He glanced at Mark and Mei. ‘I’ll be back in a minute. You two stay up here.’
Joel was staring at him, dismay written across his pudgy face. ‘You want me to go down ... there?’
‘Yep.’ Spooky stepped aside to allow him to pass.
‘You sure about this?’
‘Of course, now go on.’
‘Well ... alright.’ After manoeuvring his bulk to fit into the confined space, Joel slowly descended the stairs sideways. On reaching the bottom, he saw Albert catch his eye and lift his grizzled chin at a keypad beside a door.
Once sure his guest was taking note of the code, the old man punched in a five digit number on the keypad. The lock released with a solid clunk, and the door squealed open on heavy hinges.
Joel ducked his head and followed Albert into the room. Thickly carpeted and surprisingly plush, the “room” was in fact three—a lounge complete with seventy inch, wall-mounted smart TV, a well appointed central kitchen, and a bedroom.
Albert indicated a door at the rear of the space and said in an Austrian accent, ‘Toilet and shower.’ Then he indicated a dome-shaped device on the ceiling. ‘Wi-Fi.’
Something the subterranean room lacked was a window. After noting the air-conditioner mounted on one wall, Joel fixed Spooky with a doleful gaze. ‘How long do I have to stay here?’
About to answer, Spooky stopped when an elderly, though spritely, woman entered the room carrying a plate of pastries and a steaming coffee cup.
‘Zis is my wife, Elfriede,’ Albert announced with pride.
‘Apfelstrudel?’ As if knowing the sweet homemade treats would lift Joel’s spirits, she offered him the plate first.
Spooky watched his demeanour change to one of hope. ‘Right.’ With a nod at the munching Joel, he made for the stairs. ‘I’ll leave you in Albert’s and Elfriede’s capable hands.’
When he joined Mark and Mei in the Aurion, which smelled suspiciously like warm apple and cinnamon, he backed out of the garage and onto the street.
‘How were the apple strudels?’
Their only response was to grin sheepishly.
Beside him, Mei asked, ‘So, where to now?’
‘Redcliff.’
From the back seat Mark asked, ‘Where’d you dig him up from, the old German bloke?’
‘Technically Albert’s Austrian, not German. I met him and Elfriede while on a mission, after I was posted to WA. I’ve kept them and their place off the radar, until now.’ He caught Mark’s eye in the rear view mirror, and then glanced at Mei. ‘So I’m trusting you both to keep the secret.’
At their solemn nods, he continued. ‘They made it through the second world war, despite Albert being forced to join the Hitler Youth brigade when he was only fifteen, and Elfriede the League of German Girls. Although Albert was assigned to the SS Panzer Tank Division, luckily for him the war ended before he was deployed.’
Mark frowned. ‘You reckon Joel will be safe there, in that backyard ... bunker?’
Spooky gave an amused snort. ‘That thing’s as solid as. If an atomic bomb dropped on Belmont, Joel would be one of the few survivors. And this isn’t his first rodeo. He knows to stay hunkered down there ’til this thing blows over.’
‘What about Albert and his wife?’
‘They’re tougher than they look, Mei. They not only survived Hitler, they also succeeded in relocating to Australia, a foreign country to them, where they had to learn a new language and come to terms with a different way of life. This’ll be a walk in the park in comparison. At any sign of trouble Albert will contact me, and then he and Elfriede will join Joel in the bunker. Right, here we are.’ Turning onto Apac Way in Redcliff’s industrial area, Spooky drove to the end of the street and into a driveway. He nudged the Aurion against a set of heavy metal gates in a fenced-off section of the adjoining engineering depot.
With a dramatic, ‘Open sesame,’ he grinned at the others as the gates slid back on rollers to reveal a solid brick, forty-by-twenty metre, storage facility. It was only when he nosed the Aurion to the facility’s far side that a single roller door came into view.
Like the main gate, after the building’s sensors picked up those on the NatSec vehicle the roller door began cranking open.