The Contractors

By Dennis de Nardo

Matt Doyle belongs to a relatively unknown government department which specialises in setting up surveillance operations and of course the odd breaking and entering. The field operatives have seen active service in post-Berlin and Northern Ireland and are collectively known as The Contractors. Matt Doyle was on a routine undercover operation but one in which he was told to take with him a civilian expert to help recover stolen data.
However, the operation takes a turn for the worst as both the civilian expert and the stolen data disappear. Matt is also attracting a lot of attention from his masters.
When another surveillance operation goes wrong, Matt decides that this is more than just a coincidence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781481780353

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AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

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© 2013 Dennis de Nardo. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/21/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4817-8035-3 (e)

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

About The Author

CHAPTER 1

IT WAS ONLY THE FIRST week of operation Copy Cat and this was one part of the job he liked the most. Sure he had the training and the knowledge but every operation still had that certain apprehension and ‘what if something goes wrong?’ In Northern Ireland it wasn’t as bad as he packed a dirty great big gun in his pocket. ‘Those were those the days,’ he said. ‘And all I’ve got in my pocket now, is a pointy pen.’

‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’ asked the passenger as he struggled to get out of the car.

‘Jeepers he’s a fat git,’ thought Matt. ‘If there’s any trouble he won’t be able to get back into the car in a hurry. Maybe I should leave him.’

‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Matt’s fat friend.

‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ said Matt. ‘Its eight thirty and we have the all clear. Let’s go.’

He had checked his watch every five minutes and now it was eight thirty, time to move. The watcher had driven by with the ‘all clear signal’. The operation was now active. ‘Have to stick to protocol,’ thought Matt. Despite his misgivings Matt owed his life to following protocol but having to carry a fat fool around with him on this caper was certainly not his idea. From the start Matt had taken an instant dislike to Jason Philips, the so called software genius. ‘Only man for the job,’ Carpenter had said. Matt’s first thoughts were that Carpenter was setting him up for a career drop or even a body drop.

The two men walked down the leafy Avenue and turned round the first corner. Without arousing suspicion they crossed the road and headed towards one of the grand Victorian terraced houses. Matt noticed that Jason, his fat partner in crime, was sweating profusely. ‘Can’t you even walk down the road without sweating?’ exclaimed Matt.

‘It’s not my fault. I’ve got overactive glands,’ said Jason.

‘Shut up,’ said Matt. ‘No more talking until we get into the house.’

‘I could just kick him in the nuts now and go to plan B,’ thought Matt. ‘No, Carpenter would not like that and nor would my ex-wife if I lost my job.’

Matt and Jason stopped outside a grand Victorian house fronted with black iron railings and white steps leading up to a large black front door. On either side of the door there were two large imposing white pillars with the numbers 27 written on each pillar in large black letters. The front door was slightly ajar and behind the door one could hear the inane chatter of a party in full swing. Without any hesitation Matt purposely walked up the stone steps and pushed open the large black front door. Behind him Jason started to slowly climb and stumble up the steps. Matt knew that the best approach would be to walk in with an air of confidence as if he had been invited to the party and be ready to bluff his way out with a cover story if things went pear shaped.

Jason finally reached the doorway and was looking to steady himself when he was rudely grabbed by Matt and manhandled into the hallway. The hallway was that of a typical Victorian terraced house with tiled floors, a decorative archway and decorative cornicing around the edges. There was a stairway going up on the left hand side of the hallway, a doorway leading off to the right, a passageway along which there was another door on the right hand side and at the end of the passageway there was a kitchen full of people. Without any further thought, Matt pushed Jason up the stairs and stopped briefly on the landing listening for any shouts of protests. He knew which doors led to which bedrooms and pushed open the door to the front bedroom which overlooked the front of the house. This was a single bedroom with one wardrobe and a bed on top of which the party goers had ceremoniously dumped their coats and other warm woolly clothing into a heap. Matt walked over to the window and pulled the curtains shut and then turned on the bedside lamp. Matt then motioned for Jason to come in and closing the door behind him, Matt turned to Jason.

‘Ok, big man, do your stuff. You are looking for a black overcoat with a Save our Whales sticker on the back shoulder. I’ll keep watch.’

Jason walked over to the bed and started pulling coats off the pile on the bed and dumping them onto the floor. Matt noticed that Jason seemed to be somewhat familiar with this routine and was soon going through the pockets of the ‘Save the Whale’ coat. Jason pulled out a bunch of keys from one of the pockets and then steadied himself as he took out of his own pocket what looked like a large metal cigar case.

There was a loud bang downstairs as the front door flew open and bounced off the wall. This was followed by the noise of a couple arguing as they entered the house and people coming out of the kitchen to see what the noise was all about.

‘I only want to show my face and then we can go but I am going to have another drink. Don’t be such a prude?’ said a woman wrapped in a fur coat as she bounced of the walls into the hallway. She was followed by a man who was wearing not only a dinner jacket but also wearing the expression of not wanting to be where he was now or to be in the company of his wife who had obviously drunk too much. Before he could answer, a voice from down the passageway called out.

‘Sara, Tim, nice to see you, glad you could make it. What do you think of the house so far? Put your coats in the bedroom upstairs and come into the kitchen for a drink.’

Sara turned to Tim and said, ‘Tim, be a darling and take my coat upstairs for me.’ This was more of a command rather than a question.

Upstairs in the bedroom Matt had heard the commotion from the hallway and was listening at the bedroom door muttering, ‘Don’t do it Tim. Be a man and stand your ground.’ Turning to Jason, Matt whispered, ‘Jason, come on, how much longer?’

‘Don’t rush me,’ rasped Jason. Matt turned his attention back to the hallway hearing Tim protest but in a weak and feeble fashion. Reluctantly Tim took off his wife’s coat and started to climb the stairs as his wife went through to the kitchen with arms outstretched.

‘Paula, darling. What a nice house. There’s a dear, fix me a large Pims will you. It’s been a beast of a day.’

Matt could hear Sara’s voice trailing off into the background. What concerned him most was Tim coming up the stairs with a coat in his hands.

‘Jason, for Pete’s sake, hurry up!’

‘Don’t rush me Matt. I am going as fast as I can.’ With that there was the sound of a clang as Jason dropped the cigar tube. Alarmed Matt turned around quickly but before he could say anything, Jason in a high pitched panicky voice screeched, ‘don’t rush me, don’t rush me. Back off.’ Matt opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it as Tim was now on the landing and looking to find the make shift cloakroom.

‘Jason, come on for Pete’s sake!’ Matt hissed through clenched teeth. Tim tried the first door which opened up to show a small bedroom with no coats on the bed. He closed the door and purposely walked up to the next door.

‘Jason, will you hurry up!’ Matt whispered. Jason was now sitting on the floor by the bed fiddling with the key ring trying to sort out the remaining keys for processing. Having fingers like pork sausages didn’t exactly help his cause.

Tim now approached the second door and turned the handle and gave a gentle push but the door did not move. He turned the handle a bit more and again pushed the door. Still the door did not move. Putting more of his weight behind the door he pushed even harder and with more determination put his shoulder against the door and pushed. There was an almighty bang as the door flung open and cannoned back off the bathroom radiator with the door handle hitting Tim neatly in his groin.

‘What was that?’ cried Jason as his fingers fumbled and he dropped the lid to the cigar tube.

‘Never you mind. Just get a bloody move on. Haven’t you finished yet? Why is it taking so long?’ asked Matt as he looked around and saw Jason sitting on the floor with the top of his shirt wide open with beads of sweat running down his neck. Matt felt a little queasy and turned his attention back to the landing just in time to realise that Tim was getting closer. Matt closed the door and turned to Jason. ‘You are going to have to move finished or not. Throw the coats back on the bed and get ready to run. When I say go you run down the stairs, you do not look back. Just keep going and make for the car.’

Tim was rubbing his sore groin when he approached the last door and reached out for the handle. He started to turn the handle when all of a sudden the door opened inwards and a black shadow collided with him full on, knocking him to the floor. Momentarily Tim was pinned down and unable to move not realising where he was or what was going on. In what seemed a lifetime the pressure on his chest released and then there was light.

Jason had stepped over the two men and made for the stairs, bouncing himself off the walls as he practically fell down the stairs. He managed to slow himself down in the hallway but before he reached the front door, he found himself being pushed through the front door and down the stone steps. Without looking back Jason and Matt rounded the first corner and crossed the road. There were no shouts behind them or the sound of running feet. Just one more corner to go around and then they would be clear of the house and then they would make their get away.

‘Why did you knock that man over?’ asked Jason.

‘The less people see of us the better. Now hurry up and get to the car,’ said Matt.

However, there was no car, there was a space where there was supposed to be a car but there was no car. Matt was looking down the road when suddenly two men came out from behind a hedge and in one fluid movement hit Matt over the head with what appeared to be a short foldaway umbrella. Like a well rehearsed scene from a movie, a black MPV wagon pulled up, the side door slid open and Matt was dragged into the bowels of the MPV.

Matt was slowly coming around and he was faintly aware of being in motion. His thoughts were fuzzy as were his senses. He was aware that something was wrong but he kept drifting into clouds of consciousness followed by bouts of nausea. The MPV pulled into a lay-by on a deserted road and the side door slid open. Within a couple of minutes the MPV drove off leaving Matt sprawled out on the grass verge.

When Matt awoke he could see the stars in the sky and was acutely aware of the sledgehammer inside his head. It was difficult to judge how long he had been unconsciousness for. He was lying on a patch of grass by a lay-by along what seemed to be a deserted road. His watch had been taken and all his pockets cleaned out. When on a job, all identification is removed which again was down to good old protocol. He had left his mobile on silent running hidden in the just car in case the car got broken into. Bit of a bummer if the whole car got stolen. ‘Well what do you know,’ thought Matt. He also had credit cards stashed in the car as well, just in case. ‘Boy does my head hurt,’ thought Matt.

Matt sat up and assessed the situation, his first thoughts were to find civilisation and being that it was still dark, it would be easy to spot the distant lights of a town or a petrol station. On the way he would try and piece together what happened.

‘Oh boy,’ thought Matt. ‘Is Jason also here, lying in some ditch? Won’t be that difficult to find a fat lump like Jason. Who else knew about operation Copy Cat? Was Jason part of the ruse?’ With these thoughts, Matt started to search the area for Jason just in case Jason was also dumped in the lay-by.

It must have been over an hour before Matt found civilization. There was a small group of houses by the side of the road with the lights on. Matt approached the second house walked up to the front door and rang the bell. Soon other lights went on in the house and a middle aged string vested man opened the front door and on seeing Matt exclaimed, ‘what happened to you mate, fell off the back of a lorry?’

‘Something like that,’ said Matt. ‘Would it possible to use your phone? I haven’t got any money as I have been robbed but I can get someone to bring some money when they pick me up to pay for the call.’

The man looked at Matt then stepped back from the door. ‘Aye, right. In you come then. The phone’s in the kitchen and there’s a small washroom out back where you clean yourself up. You’ll be wanting a cup of tea then?’

‘That would be very nice, thank you,’ said Matt. ‘By the way, what time do you have?’

‘It be seven o’clock.’

Matt phoned the office and got hold of the duty officer asking him to contact Chris Markham to pick him up from . . . Matt turned to his host. ‘Where exactly am I?’

‘You be near Wormleybury off the A10 going to Hoddesson. Opposite the White Lion, second house along.’

Matt relayed the information to the duty officer who replied, ‘do you need a cover story Matt?’

‘That’s right,’ said Matt.

‘Ok, one moment.’ There was a slight pause before the duty officer pinpointed Matt’s location on the system computer. ‘You are working as a contractor for the Ministry of Defence in Harlow. All government stuff so you cannot talk about it, Official Secrets act and all that. That should do it.’

‘Thanks,’ said Matt and put the phone down. ‘I’ll pay for the call when my colleague gets here. Do you have any aspirin by any chance? By the way, I’m Matt.’

‘I’m Peter,’ said the vested man. ‘I’ll make a tea for yer. I need to bring up a cup for my missus. Sit yourself down and I’ll find some headache pills.’

In the bright lights of the kitchen Matt’s head started to throb again but his mind was starting to function again as he started to go over the previous night’s events. ‘What the hell was he doing up the A10? Who had hit him over the head? Why did they take the car and what happened to Jason or was it Jason who hit him. No, that can’t be right, someone had moved the car?’

Peter made Matt a cup of tea and disappeared upstairs with his wife’s tea. Soon Peter and his wife stood in the kitchen doorway looking at their unusual guest. She was younger that her husband, mid thirties with short straight blonde hair. Matt guessed he looked a state and so politely asked if he could use the bathroom to clean up. He certainly looked a state, his hair at the back of his head was matted with congealed blood where he had been hit and he looked like he had slept in his clothes. He didn’t smell too good either. Matt washed his face and tried his best to clean up his hair smoothing down the sticking out tufts of hair at the back of his head. He quickly washed his face and hands and returned to the kitchen where on his entrance Peter and his wife stopped talking and looked at their early morning guest.

‘Hello Matt, I’m Pauline. What happened to you or shouldn’t we ask?’ Matt saw that there was a cup of tea and two white tablets on the kitchen table. Swallowing the tablets with a swig of tea he turned to Pauline. ‘I was in a taxi after a night out with a friend in Hoddesson and the next thing I know is, I woke up in a ditch with no wallet and no watch.’

Pauline looked at Matt. ‘Do you live in Hoddesson or are you visiting a friend?’

‘I’m working,’ said Matt. ‘I work for the MoD, the Ministry of Defence in Harlow.’ Matt saw Pauline relax a little as the story line took effect. He knew she would probably not ask any more questions especially as her husband had heard Matt ask for the Duty Officer and that would have put her mind at rest.

It was nearly an hour before Chris Markham turned up. Matt thanked his hosts who still eyed him wearily and refused to accept any money for the phone call. It was after they had gone half a mile down the road that Chris turned to Matt. ‘Do you want to talk about it? I have instructions to take you back to Marylebone for a debriefing with Controller. There’s a flask of coffee on the back seat and you will find some fresh egg rolls there as well.’

‘Didn’t know Controller was back, thought he was still on holiday in Spain or wherever he goes. Anyway there’s nothing much to talk about,’ said Matt grabbing the flask and rolls from the back seat. ‘Someone must have followed us in the car and then just waited until we came out then someone hit me on the back of the head. Do you want some coffee?’

‘No thanks Matt. By the way, there’s a bit of a stink back at the office and Controller is not a happy bunny.’

‘Really’, said Matt.’ I haven’t even reported in yet about what has happened. Who did you speak to before leaving the office and what’s it got to do with Controller. Carpenter is the one that organised Copy Cat?’

‘Well,’ said Chris. ‘The duty officer you spoke to is David Jones who phoned Carpenter at home and told him what had happened. Carpenter phoned me and told me to pick you up. As you know your call has automatically been logged into the computer system and the Duty Officer would have added an entry into the log book.’

The two men sat in silent for the next mile each a little bit concerned about the gravity of what Matt had just said. Chris looked at Matt and said, ‘Maybe the stink is not related to what happened to you? By the way, what did happen to you? You don’t have to tell me the job spec, just the outcome. Come on Matt, I’ll get to hear about it at the debriefing.’

‘You are going to be at the debriefing?’ asked Matt.

‘Fraid so,’ said Chris.

Matt unwrapped what looked like an egg roll which had been sat on by an opera singer. ‘Look, all that happened was that I came out of the house walked to the car which was not there anymore and then got hit over the back of the head. I woke up in a lay-by with a splitting headache and my watch was taken together with any loose change I had in my pockets. But why go to all that trouble of driving me up the A10 and dumping me here. Why take any change I had and why is Controller calling a debriefing and why are you going to be there Chris? Chris if you know anything you had better tell me now or I am going to pour the rest of this coffee down your lap.’

‘Matt if I know something I would tell you. Honest. You can put the coffee flask down. Please Matt, put the coffee flask down or we will crash.’

CHAPTER 2

CONTROLLER WAS WALKING UP AND down in operations room G2, his preferred debriefing room. Controller, alias Julian Lance Forbury was part of the old boy post cold war era, always grumbling about his pension to anyone who would care to listen. Also in the room sitting around a large polished wooden table was Controller’s second in command, John Carpenter and Carpenter’s administrator, Judy Singleton.

‘Good God man, what happened to your trousers?’ roared Controller as Matt and Chris walk into the room.

Chris threw Matt a daggered look before replying.