Lake Rage: The Search for an Assassin Has Consequences
By Ron McCarthy
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About this ebook
Len’s an elite coach brought by Adams to coach their newly promoted football team. Raised in Termez where 100,000 Soviet troops were stationed during their war with Afghanistan, Len defends himself with street-smart skills.
Detective Inspector Beryl Stone phones Len asking him for local knowledge, particularly the elderly, as the weapon was a 0.303 service rifle. Joe, a retired miner and supporter of the team, helps.
Beau, a tree lopper who’s moved from country Queensland, is asked to use his drone to help Len’s coaching. Len is attacked a second time, leaving to pick up Beau to see the assassination site. Len is mystified by these attacks.
Ron McCarthy
Ron played state grade soccer before a career leading to chief engineer of Australia’s top telco. His work took him to the Silk Route in Asia and to Ma Bell companies in America where his accent scored. He spoke to the Pacific Forum and played a golf match against the Fijian coup leader, Brigadier General Sitiveni Rabuka. Writing fiction is his new passion.
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Lake Rage - Ron McCarthy
LAKE RAGE
The search for an assassin has
consequences
Ron McCarthy
Copyright © 2022 by Ron McCarthy.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Rev. date: 07/14/2022
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CONTENTS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
ONE
An attractive teenager dressed in jeans and denim jacket is standing next to her cleverly graffitied sports bag in the departure lounge of Canberra International Airport. It’s late Friday afternoon. Outside, shadows stretch, and chill creeps into the air. She fiddles with the buttons of her jacket as her gaze moves through people streaming into the lounge for their four o’clock departures to Sydney or Melbourne. It’s congested and it’s noisy as acquaintances separate and new ones are greeted. She smiles when she recognises the gentleman emerging through the throng.
‘Hi Liana.’ he says, squeezing her elbow.
‘I like the handywork you’ve done with this.’ he says, lifting her bag and studying the poodle portrait.
‘Thanks Mr Adams. Some of my school friends do artwork too. It’s a bit of a contest between us.’
He turns to wend his way through the crowd carrying Liana’s bag and swinging his leather notebook bag over his other shoulder. ‘Follow me. I’ve got us booked first class. It’s a short flight to Sydney and I’ve got to finish up some work on the way. I’ve bought you this magazine called "Wild’ to read while I work. If I get this done, I can call into my Sydney office to arrange some meetings, then my chauffer can drive us straight on up to Morisset.’
Gareth Adams MP is a minister in the NSW State Government. He is also Patron of the Canberra A-league Football team, a code he enjoys watching, as a son plays for the newly promoted Morisset United Football Club located in his lakeside hometown. He’s been instrumental in enticing Liana’s uncle, an elite coach, and former World Cup player, to come to coach this newly promoted club. Len and Adams became casual friends when Len played for the Canberra team before taking to full-time coaching. For some home games, Adams would invite Len’s sister and niece to join him in the team’s VIP box to watch Len play. He would join the team in the changeroom at the end of the match. Their friendship is casual, and Adams has invited Liana to travel with him to Morisset to holiday with friends and her uncle now she’s finished school.
At Kingsford Smith Airport they are shepherded through the terminal with the other first-class travellers. Adams waves to his chauffer standing near the exit door to the VIP carpark. The driver was easy to spot in his Brixton Fiddler Chauffer hat and smart driving jacket.
‘My God, I’m glad to see you Ron,’ Adams says, handing him the two bags. ‘This is Liana, come to visit her uncle for a lake holiday. I’ve offered her a lift to Morisset.’
As soon as Adams makes it out the terminal door he sneezes. Not quick enough to shelter his face into the crook of his elbow, but quick enough to turn away from Liana. ‘That fresh air, Ron, it hits my hay fever allergy straight away.’
Liana’s stepping with a flounce in her stride now they’ve arrived safely. She eyes the limousine they are heading toward. Its luxury is far removed from what she is accustomed to travelling in. Adams takes the rear nearside seat, Ron hands him the shoulder bag, and then hurries around to the driver’s side to open that rear door for Liana.
‘Those bastards in Canberra are like vultures, fighting over a carcass and scavenging for more.’ says Adams, as Ron slides into his driver’s seat.
‘What was the issue this time sir?’
‘Some idiot didn’t do his homework on land values, and now they’re all squealing like stuck pigs. The problem is, the Government paid thirty million dollars, some ten times the value, for a block of land near the proposed airport at Badgerys Creek.’
‘I’ll get you to your city office as quick as I can, sir, but I’ve just heard there’s heavy traffic. Back roads are congested too, there must be a problem somewhere.’
‘When we get to the office, wait in the car with Liana. I’ll be quick, then we can head home.’
The Southern Cross Drive is a four-lane highway, normally the fastest route from the airport to the city. But as they begin to drive past The Australian Golf Course on their right-hand side, the traffic slows. The south bound lanes are almost empty. The north bound lane slows to shuffle speed. There is no traffic south bound at all, and they see one of their two lanes is being separated for south bound traffic relief.
Adams flinches forward and sneezes again. That instant there’s a deafening thunderclap and the rear window explodes next to his head blasting shards of glass in all directions and filling the air with a thick fog of fine glass particles. The thud of a missile striking the pillar behind the chauffer’s head sends him face down onto the steering wheel. Adams collapses across the rear seat into the foetal position, restricted only by the seat belt and Liana. He’s shaking violently. Liana spins away from the blast and stoops forward holding her head down with both hands.
The chauffer’s training snaps in. He hits the accelerator, swings left up onto the nature strip, and speeds along the pedestrian footpath close to the two-meter-high wire boundary fencing to bypass all the blocked traffic. Two hundred meters further along he’s stopped by police, giving him sight of what caused the traffic snarl. A horse drawn barrow loaded with fruit and vegetables for mid-day shoppers in the city has lost one of its spoked wheels and toppled, spreading its contents across both oncoming lanes. The chauffer’s been relaying the attack to his headquarters on his hands-free wireless. He lowers the window to talk to the Senior Constable.
‘The Minister’s been cut by flying glass.’ says the chauffer. ‘Could you spare a motor-cycle officer to escort us back?’
The Senior Constable looks through to the Minister and sees his pallor and blood splatted face and clothes. He then peers at Liana who is still brushing glass dust from her face and auburn hair. She lowers her hands and nods to him. Her lips have a bluish tinge, she’s pale, and her heart is racing.
‘Tell them at the terminal I’ll tape the area off.’ He waves over to one of two motorcycle officers and issues quick instructions.
On their return trip, the lanes are empty. Liana has helped raise the shaking Adams back into his seat and dusted him off. Her hands are unsteady and her eyes misty from irritation. She fumbles as she blots his trembling face cuts and blood stains.
By the time they reach the terminal Minister Adams has recovered from his fit of the shakes.
He tries to leave the car, but stumbles, and must be helped. The chauffer leaves the car parked at the entry and both he and Liana take an arm each and assist the minister through to the first-aid station. A doctor is waiting. Two detectives are standing by. They have worried looks and can’t stand still. An incident such as this will quickly escalate to top brass. They’ve spoken to the senior constable at the shooting site to make sure it’s made secure.
The doctor attends first to Minister Adams who is very pale and confused, and he asks the detectives to delay questions to him. Liana releases her ponytail to brush out more glass powder. Her denim skirt and matching jacket have escaped blood stains from the minister’s cuts but are spotted white with glass dust. She has lost all colour from her cheeks as she is checked for cuts and glass fragments.
The doctor finds she has a rapid pulse and dilated eyes, indicating shock, and asks a nurse to place her in a recliner in the staff room and offer her a choice of drinks. He returns to continue monitoring Minister Adams.
Minister Adams is finally patched up and has recovered enough to answer questions from the detectives. The family has been contacted and they want him home safely as soon as possible. He requests helicopter transport to the Trinity Point Marina on Lake Macquarie. His family home is located on the Morisset Peninsula close to the helipad, and a police helicopter stationed at the airport is assigned the flight for both Liana and the minister. Following take-off, the two detectives wait to brief Detective Inspector Beryl Stone of the SCC, the State Crime Command, due to arrive back on a flight from Melbourne in twenty-five minutes.
Police at the Morisset station are in panic mode following a call from the airport detectives. They don’t have enough information about the incident or the condition of the two passengers. They do know the chopper will arrive at Trinity Point within the hour, they know the minister has a waterfront property on the foreshore near there, so they decide to rush both an ambulance and a police launch to wait at the helipad to provide options.
People in the waterside restaurant of the marina soon become aware of excitement building at the helipad. Some leave their seats to get a better view. Then someone points skyward to the approaching chopper, and soon there is a crowd of spectators on the marina. Police are trying to marshal them from obstructing the path of the paramedics. Some resourceful observers are taking a video of the proceedings for feeding to media outlets. When the bloodstained minister is assisted to the ambulance and to his waiting family there is a small group of handclaps that soon bursts into spontaneous applause from the crowd. His recognition, his safety, and the applause are signs of his popularity.
‘Don’t often see a pollie clapped like that in this country Serge!’ says a constable.
‘You’ll see his waterfront property soon. We’ve landed the responsibility for his security. When you see his jetty, his boat, and the pristine foreshore, you’ll see why he wants to preserve this lake. That’s what makes him popular here, but he doesn’t seem to have too many likeminded mates in Government.’
‘I bet there’s just as many others here that resent his fat-cat
job and his life of luxury in such a posh location. Those that can’t afford to eat out at a restaurant like this.’ says the constable ‘Maybe so. I’ve got the feeling we’ll know more about this before too long.’
After being checked by the paramedics, Liana is cleared to leave, but she is advised to see a doctor later to check on her recovery from the shock. A police car ride is offered to take her to her planned destination, the home of Jane Lexan, the mother of one of Len’s new players.
TWO
Len is about to begin a coaching session. The Premiership players are seated in a circle, ready for feedback on the last match. Len’s working on match discipline.
‘I like your commitment against Kahibah in the trial.’ he says. They’re a smart bunch and you did well. There’s still a way to go with our new game plan. You’re going to a new level where vision and communication are critical. I’ve got a session planned for this, so let’s get out there and do it!’
Len stops to talk to Joe while the players file out to the field to go through their warm-up routines. ‘Any idea why Ricky’s not here yet?’ he says. ‘He’s usually one of the first to get here and workout in the goalmouth.’
‘He hasn’t called in. Do you want me to ring his home?’
‘He’s vital if we’re going to get control in the back third – yeh, call him.’
Len starts to work the players in a small-sided match in a narrow field stretched between penalty areas. He concentrates on reactions when possession changes. Len is fit and skilled and uses the ‘freeze replay’ coaching technique. When tasks or opportunity are missed, he replays the move, steps in, and demonstrates.
Joe comes rushing into the grid as fast as his gammy leg will allow, waving furiously to Len.
‘You’ve got an emergency.’ he shouts. ‘Police have diverted Ricky’s home phone and intercepted my call to say Minister Adams has been shot at. Your niece was in the car with him, and she’s being driven to Jane’s place in Bonnels Bay.’
Blood drains from Len’s face. He reaches out to Joe’s shoulders for balance. ‘Good God – is she alright? What else did he say?’
‘Not much. Liana must be okay Len, or they wouldn’t have sent her off to Jane’s. The minister’s home’s in strict lockdown. When some idiot shooter learns he missed, he might come looking at his home. Ricky’s likely to be locked up too until more is known. He may not be able to play for a while.’
‘I’ve got to go to Jane’s place. You and the trainer take over and tell the players I could get caught up in this because of that Detective I know.’
Len rushes to his wagon. He knew Liana was to travel with the minister for another lake holiday with a group of players and friends from the Morisset under-18 side. Jane has done all the arranging. Her son Phil and Liana are friends on Facebook.
When he reaches the street where Jane lives, he’s obstructed by cars and news vans from the local radio, TV, and paper outlets. He swears and parks up the street. He walks down and finds reporters and photographers crowding her front lawn. He forces his way through to the front door and shouts out for Jane. He sees an eye peeping through at him, then the door swings open to let him in.
‘My God. What a commotion,’ he says, ‘how is she Jane? Is she hurt?’
‘Through here. She’s traumatised by what’s going on out there.’ She leads Len through to where Phil has Liana stretched out in a comfortable lounge chair sipping hot tea. Liana hears Len’s voice, swings around to see him, then jumps up and rushes into his outstretched arms. Tears glisten her cheeks and she’s trembling. He tucks her head gently under his chin with one hand and holds her tightly around the waist with the other. Neither speaks, both bodies absorbing strength and comfort. Memories surface of taking Liana alpine climbing when he returned home during the rare breaks in his World Cup travels. Liana means so much to me. How she’s matured since moving here. She still makes me feel alive and away from the pressures of football. Have I failed to look after her better? Why have I been so single-minded?
‘I’ve called the cops and for a doctor to come,’ Jane says, ‘this is no good. We’ve got to get her out of this.’
‘What the hell are they all doing here?’
‘One told me the police have chased them all away from the minister’s home, so they’ve come to get the story from Liana. They’re offering money for a story.’
‘That’s crap. It’s up to the minister’s minders to fix all that. I’m going out front to chase them all away.’
‘I don’t think that’ll work. It might for a start, but they won’t give up. I’m going to pack some clothes to drive Liana and Phil back to Khancoban. I’ve already arranged it with Samira. They can have their holiday break up there.’
‘Good thinking, thanks for that. I’ll join you all up there as soon as I can. I’ll check your car for you while you get ready, then I’ll clear a path away for you. Thanks for your help with all this. I can’t believe some idiot could endanger Liana this way, let alone attempt an assassination! I’m going to phone Inspector Stone to complain about the way they threw Liana to the wolves. Why wasn’t there intel that the minister was at risk, and why wasn’t there protection? I want this stupid idiot brought to justice, and if she wants my help again, I want to know more.’
THREE
Before the doctor arrives, Jane takes Liana to the bedroom to change out of the glass splattered denim clothes. Liana is unsteady on her feet and Jane lifts the Rebel Sport duffle bag Liana carried, packed for her two weeks stay. She raises it to higher to admire the graffitied white poodle in glittering white on contrasting black.
‘This is beautiful. Is this your own work?’
‘Thanks Jane. Yeh, it’s a contest we have between some of my classmates.’
‘Will they remain your friends now you’ve all finished school with new ambitions?’
‘I hope so, we all live close in the highlands. My hope is to go to uni and to start a career as a teacher. Newcastle university is my aim, so if I’m successful I’ll have to board somewhere.’
‘Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.’ says Jane. ‘What’s it like to travel with a Minister?’
‘It was good of him to offer, but I felt like I was a burden. He was late to arrive at the Canberra Airport and in a hurry. He rushed us through the check-in and onto the plane into first class seats. He handed me a magazine to read on the flight. It was clearly a last-minute purchase he made, it was called Wild
, with an inscription For going against the grain, swimming upstream, and doing the prickly work.
I don’t know what Uncle Len must have been telling him about me, but it was so out of character. Obviously bought on the rush. I dropped it in a bin after we landed.’
‘What about the flight. Did you see the Sydney lights?’
‘I was worried at the take-off. I covered my face with both hands when the engines roared, and the plane vibrated at the end of the runway before moving. Mr Adams handed me the paper bag from the back of the seat in front. Otherwise, I enjoyed the flight. The harbour looked great, but it was too early for the lights.’
‘What’s he like as a person?’
‘Hard to say. He wasn’t rude, but he travelled with a shiny leather shoulder bag and took out papers to work on for the whole trip. He was always polite when he did speak, and very well dressed in a tailored suit and expensive Hugo Boss shoes. I was lucky to be wearing my best denim clothes instead of casuals.’
‘Well, let’s get you changed into something more relaxed for our drive to Khancoban.’ says Jane, who