Narrow Ground

Chapter 1-2

She liked the hotel but she had to keep moving. The next steps would be the key to her endeavour. This time she was working entirely outside the wire; it had to be fully controlled and planned to the last detail – if it went wrong this time she wouldn"t be able to hide from herself. She gripped the sink edge and challenged her reflection to show another sign of weakness. Get a grip of yourself Anderson: remember the tiger swimming at the zoo.

It was time to begin calling in favours, time to come back from the dead and appear in the lives of those who had tried to bury and forget her. It was time to stop swimming in the still pools of exile and time to flex her claws against the agents of her humiliation. The tiger"s name was Hope. She recalled the news of Yoshi"s death; she remembered the hot afternoon at the Baghdad zoo, knowing that the die was cast and knowing that she"d accepted the consequences long before she"d strolled out of Al-Zawara Park. The tiger"s name was Hope but it was hatred that burned in the eyes that looked back at her. God help anyone who stood in her way.

* * *

"Morning, Billy."

"Morning, Mr Gallagher. Late night?"

Gallagher smiled. It was something when a tramp – and Billy was an old-school tramp and proud of it – thought you looked rough.

"Just a bit. Have you eaten today?"

"I"m on a diet," said Billy with a straight face.

Gallagher found a five-pound note in his wallet. "Get the dog some breakfast."

"You"re a good man, Mr Gallagher."

"Keep that to yourself, won"t you?"

"Your friend picking you up? The one with the false leg?"

"You don"t miss much, do you Billy?"

"True, Mr Gallagher. Keep that to yourself, won"t you? Here he is. New car. He"s killing those gears."

Gallagher patted Billy"s dog, Eric, who wagged his tail and blinked his remaining eye.

Harry lowered his window. "Morning, boss."

"Morning, H. Have you met Billy and Eric the dog?"

"I have now. Morning, Billy. I"m Harry."

"Pleased to meet you. You want to watch that clutch, you know, I could smell it a mile off."

* * *

They had been in the car for an hour and Gallagher"s head was still thumping. He"d had two hours of fitful sleep before Harry Burgess had collected him for the day"s surveillance work.

"You still thinking of a holiday? It looks like you need one."

"Still thinking," replied Gallagher.

"Go on, have a week in the sun, have two, it"s not like you can"t afford it."

"I"m thinking about it. Let"s concentrate on the job at hand, eh?"

"Please yourself. Remind me again why we"ve been watching this rich Russian t**t moving around town screwing birds and flashing his cash for the last week," said Harry as he turned right.

Gallagher checked his map. "Because it pays your bills?"

"Lucky for me that Lynne doesn"t eat much, eh?" Harry grimaced as the traffic slowed.

"Is your mortgage hurting?"

"Piss off. It"s the b****y prosthetic – must be the weather. So, what"s the point of this? What are we trying to find out apart from the fact that the bloke is a s*x addict?"

"It"s need-to-know."

"Well I need to know."

"No, you don"t."

"Yes, I do."

Gallagher took a sidelong glance. "Are you taking the piss?"

"I know I"m just the hired help, but..."

"Have you heard yourself, H? Are you channelling your missus?"

Harry laughed.

Gallagher looked back at the map. "You"re having your mid-life crisis early, is that it? Getting it out of the way? Buy yourself a leather jacket and a motorbike, you"ll feel better."

Harry rubbed the area where the stump met the false part of his leg. "You don"t buy me flowers anymore."

"Why didn"t you buy another automatic?" asked Gallagher, smiling but noting his friend"s continued discomfort. "Anyway, to answer your question, it"s the same drill as usual: find, fix, observe. It"s our bread and butter for Bannerman."

Harry turned left, three cars behind the target vehicle. "I wanted an automatic but Lynne"s brother got us a deal. I didn"t want her accusing me of throwing it back in his face. I"m just saying that Bannerman owes us a decent job soon."

"The money"s the same either way. Why work harder?"

"You know what I mean: something a bit more exciting than watching flash fuckers spending money or crusties plotting revolutions that"ll never happen."

"I like these jobs," said Gallagher as he checked the map. "Bet you a pound to a penny we"re off to Location Four."

"You just like to think you like the quiet life. You"re kidding yourself."

"I"m never bored. He"s pulling over, Location Four, that"s another point to me. Swing in over there on the other side of the road."

Harry manoeuvred in the traffic and brought the car to a stop. "Yeah, you"re blessed with that. Me: I bore easily."

"Don"t be so harsh on yourself: you’re not that boring," said Gallagher, looking at his watch rather than at his friend.

"I meant," Harry began. "Right, yeah. You"re a piss-taking bastard. I don"t know why I bother."

Gallagher suppressed his grin. "He"ll be an hour or so. The heavy and the driver are staying put as usual."

"Lucky bastard. She"s gorgeous that one."

"And expensive: this isn"t some Soho knocking shop. How"s Lynne?"

"She"s never boring, that"s for sure. To be honest, though, I don"t know."

"Are you through the worst?"

"Some days I think we are and some days I don"t know why we put ourselves through it."

"Harry Junior?"

‘Yep, I suppose that"s why we do it."

"I meant, how is he?"

"He"s a great little lad, takes after his mother."

"Right," said Gallagher. "I"ll go foxtrot and watch the car from that bar on the corner, just in case Heavy goes walkabout. I suppose we should earn our money."

"He never goes walkabout; he"s a lazy bastard. Why can"t I go and sit in the bar?"

"You"re driving. It"d be a waste of opening hours, and you"d look out of place nursing half a Coke for an hour."

"I could have a brew. They do sell coffee in bars these days, you know."

Gallagher opened the passenger door. "Yes, I"ve heard." He picked up Harry"s newspaper that was lying in the foot-well and stepped out of the car. From the pavement, he leaned in and tossed the paper on to Harry"s lap. "One across is "patience" and four down is "virtue." Have fun."

"Hilarious," said Harry as Gallagher closed the car door. "I hope you choke on your Pinot Ponce."

* * *

Gallagher had just sat down near the window of the bar with his wine when his phone rang. "Don"t tell me you need a piss already, H," he said as the call connected.

"Heavy is foxtrot, moving your way, carrying a bag."

Gallagher saw the large man in the ill-fitting suit walk into view on the other side of the road. "I have," he said, and downed his glass of hair of the dog.

As he walked to the exit, Gallagher inserted his covert earpiece and activated the push-to-talk mode on his phone – turning it into a one-to-one radio link with Harry – and moved the remote click unit to his jacket pocket, in order to transmit unseen via the microphone under his shirt collar. Through the glass door he watched a broad-shouldered tanned man in his early thirties stop, turn to look in a shop window and poke his left ear. The man"s dress, bearing and ear-fiddling suggested that he was engaged in surveillance.

"H, do you have the IC1 male, brown leather jacket, outside the deli?"

"Got him. The IC1 female, short brown hair, fleece and jeans, a hundred metres to your rear, is with him. They exited the same van and now want nothing to do with each other."

"OK, looks like we"ve got competition. Go careful and stay off their radar. We"ll do what we need to and then lift off. I don"t want us tangled up in whatever this is."

"You"re still going after Heavy?"

"We"ve been tasked, so we do the job." Gallagher watched Heavy turn the corner and followed. "That"s Alpha 2 into Cornovi Road. I"ll cut through and let him pass. I can get between him and Leather Jacket."

Harry"s voice replied in his earpiece. "Roger that."

Gallagher took the short cut and reached the end of the alley. He watched Heavy into the next street still carrying the sports bag. The big man was sweating and had obviously jogged forward to get to where he was going. Heavy began descending the steps of an underpass to cross beneath the road.

Gallagher followed and glanced left into the subterranean corridor. A man was walking towards Heavy. This man, wearing a dark suit, seemed in no hurry. Gallagher continued past the opening and walked up the steps, to where he had a view of the street.

‘H, follow me up the road. There"s an underpass ahead. You might need to drive forward to cover the other entrance but wait this side in case he doubles."

Two clicks of the transmit button – two for "yes" – came back from Harry.

Gallagher watched Heavy exit on the other side of the busy road. Heavy was no longer carrying a bag.

"H, there"s an unknown Alpha about to exit this side of the road: early thirties, IC4, dark suit. Have your camera ready. He’s our Alpha 3 now."

Two clicks.

Gallagher prepared the camera on his personal smartphone in case the new target turned his way. "Yours, H."

Harry adjusted his camera lens. "Got him, he"s walking this way. Want me to follow?"

"Yeah, turn around and watch him to the junction. There"s a cut-through here. I"ll try to get ahead of him."

"Roger that. Moving now."

Gallagher ran through the alleyway and slowed as he approached the entrance to the parallel street.

"He"s gone right, away from the train station," Harry reported.

Gallagher acknowledged. "I have."

From Gallagher"s left, a car pulled out on the other side of the road. The new target glanced up, crossed the street, and waited for the car to stop. Gallagher watched as the man climbed into the back. "That"s Alpha 3 into a black Mazda CX-5, about to arrive at the junction. I have the reg. Try to get the occupants."

Harry pulled in so that he was diagonal from the junction. He took a succession of rapid photographs as the target car turned left and drove away from him. "Should have the driver and a profile of the passenger. They"ve headed down towards the high street. Want me to follow?"

"No, drive this way and pick me up. I’ll walk towards you. I think we"ve got what Bannerman wants."

As he turned the corner to head towards the main road, Gallagher walked straight into Leather Jacket. The man pushed him backwards. The jacket flapped open revealing a g*n.

"You"re coming with me." It was an American accent.

"I"m afraid not."

"Just a few questions: nothing to worry about."

"You"re way out of your jurisdiction."

Leather Jacket drew his pistol pointing it at head height. He was throwing his weight around, being the tough guy, and he was standing too close.

Gallagher"s left palm moved the barrel as he tilted his head in the other direction, simultaneously using his right hand in a sloth grip to strike the man"s wrist hard. As the g*n rotated under the opposing forces of Gallagher’s hands, the trigger guard broke Leather Jacket"s finger and the g*n moved into Gallagher"s possession at speed.

Gallagher stepped to the side, pointing the pistol at its owner as the American bent double in agony. Then he kicked him behind the knees, sweeping him on to his back.

"Let"s agree to disagree, shall we? You lie there for a minute. I have to be off. I"d rather not have to deal with the rest of your team."