Digital Life Form part 7

 

Chapter Two

 

Atkins looked through the misted up screen, watching the entrance to the club, saw the thin man with the wispy beard hair talk to the bulky doorman, slip him a note.  He pressed his earpiece while he keyed the mic.

‘Bellonski, I think you have a third coming in, looks like the guy they call Geek,’ he said, lowering the mic.  After a pause Bellonski replied.

‘Got him, he’s looking around, focussed on the black UNISC guy.  Yup, that’s him, do I intercept?’

‘Watch and wait, Bellonski.  Is Johnson in position?’  The earpiece crackled momentarily.

‘I’m round the corner, in case they try to leave by the back entrance, I’m keeping my eyes on a couple of drug dealers who could cause trouble if they think we’re feds,’ intercepted Johnson, thinking practically, his New York detective background coming to the fore.

Atkins wiped the screen a third time, watched the taxi that had dropped off Geek drive away.

*

I never expected Geek to agree, let alone show up, but I found myself backed up against a wall away from any main light fittings in our usual bar on the edge of Manchester several hours after the time I usually finished drinking, sat with a trigger happy American facing the door and the bar where I usually sat.  My stomach was churning over at the memory of the gun pointed at me, wondered how I’d become involved in something that evidently involved violence just because I collected rocks for my boss and borrowed tech gear from a friend.

Winston had provided the transport and the drinks, having ruined another single malt, and appeared to be quite relaxed with the situation.  I wondered if he had any back-up, a support team quietly ruining the full gamut of British drinks in the various dark corners of the bar.

Geek joined us half an hour after the time we'd agreed, pulling a chair around so that he could also watch the door.

'So, the famous UNISC.  I expect you're here because of the Sat Nav,' he said.  I interrupted before Winston could answer.

'You know about his lot?' I asked.  Geek nodded, Winston settled back, his answer now parked.

'We've crossed paths previously.  We're both chasing the holy grail of technology, for different reasons.  Lots of people are, some with more success than others.'  He turned to Winston.  'Don't worry, it's safe, not connected to any networks, kept alive with a trickle charge.' 

'I'll need to take it and anything you've infected with it,' said Winston.  Geek shook his head.

'Never going to happen, I didn't come here to hand over the DLF, not to some washed up Federal agent, anyway. 

I must have raised my eyebrows, dropped a jaw or something because suddenly Geek remembered I was there. 'This is the infamous Winston Grace, the unluckiest Fed to ever cross the NSA.  His reward for trying to do the decent thing and bring some over-zealous technophobes to book was to end up serving a backwater organisation charged with saving the planet from itself with no resources and very little support. 

‘He and a guy I’ve met once or twice witnessed the massacre of twenty-odd roughnecks in a desert outpost a long time ago, found themselves working together to save the world until one saw the light and Winston didn't.’

'You know Maurice Sands?' asked Winston, 'how's he doing?'

'Pretty good.  Like you, he can't retire.'

'Should've stayed with UNISC, he'd have had a good living.'

'He's not done too badly, better than on the UN payroll.  Sure the Secretary General's not on a bad number, but at your grade?'  I felt sure Winston pulled a face, which was better than the gun I expected, but it was fleeting.  I didn't know then, didn't know for a long time, that Winston had done more than sacrifice a career and a salary for this vague UNISC role but had effectively sacrificed all the things that complete most peoples' lives: family, stability, safety and security.  At this time all I knew was that he was a real tidy burglar and armed.

'The Sat Nav,' he said, reminding me that he also had a highly consistent method about him.

'He'll suggest that it's not a good idea to fuck with him in a minute,' I suggested.  Geek didn't flinch.

'Look, you're not going to get away with pulling your gun out on me in here, and if you think I was going to walk in without marking your watchers with our own people then you're very naïve.' 

'I agree about the gun, you Brits are a little sensitive about those things, but your markers are wasting their time, I didn't bring any backup.'  Geek reached into his pocket and pulled out an iPhone.

'Bluetooth video link to the bar's security cameras,' he said pushing a few on-screen buttons, 'wave to yourself,' he added, handing the device to Winston.  I leant across and saw the three of us sat against the wall looking up at the security camera behind the bar.  Geek took the device and pressed a button a couple more times.  'Now look at the rear exit,' he said.

I recognised the car park straight away, virtually empty this time of the morning.  Winston's car sat near the camera, condensation steaming up the front screen.  A few feet away sat another car, also misting up, but this time from the inside.  A hand appeared and raked away a clear patch; it was clear that there were two men sat inside the car.  Winston looked up, worried.

'Not mine, I travelled alone tonight, I don't have any back up, didn't feel I needed any.'

'Well two cars pulled up at the same time as you arrived, these jokers and another car out of shot.  The occupants of that car are in the bar now - one over there in the blue jacket nursing a drink, the other around the corner watching our reflection.  You sure they're not with you?' asked Geek.  Winston shook his head and nonchalantly glanced across at the man at the bar while raising his drink to his lips.  He didn't drink, but used the glass to shield him as he spoke rapidly.

'He's got comms, high end stuff, ear-piece virtually hidden.  Looks calm and collected, taking in way more than you might think,' he said, lowering the glass and looking across at me.  I shrugged; the guy looked like I expected any guy to look at three in the morning in a Manchester bar, looked pretty much like I expected I looked.   Geek didn't even turn.

'We're ready to jam his signal; we'll hit it just before we move.'  He saw my look.  'I'm not staying around here with these goons breathing down my neck.  I agreed to come here because your friend Winston would know I come here - it's a sacrificial location.  Also, I wanted to know who he'd drag along, to see how important you are to him.'  Winston pitched in, shaking his head from side to side.

'I told you, they're not mine.  And to be clear, Royston isn't important to me, the rock and the Sat Nav are.  I don't wish him any harm, though, nor you.  But my guess is that while you two hold access to the rock and Sat Nav there’ll be people who'll be way less concerned about your safety.'  If this impressed Geek it didn't show, he just wandered away from us towards the bar, leaning forward trying to catch the barman's attention.  It had impressed me, though, coming from the stranger who'd burgled my home, lain in wait for me and had practically marched me to the bar at gunpoint.  If he was someone concerned for my well-being then God help me from the ones who weren't. 

‘How much shit are we in?’ I asked, not getting an answer from Winston who was now watching Geek like a hawk as he gesticulated, apparently drunkenly, at the barman.  Suddenly the man in the blue jacket put his hand to his ear, a furrow crossing his brow.  Geek turned and waved to me, indicating that we should leave, pointing to the door. 

The man at the bar stood, cupping the hand over his ear, turning to follow Geek and myself as we started walking.  He found himself face to face with a bouncer from the pub, who blocked his exit.  He backed off a pace and made a dummy turn back to the bar before swinging back with a strong left hook, catching the bouncer square on the jaw, snapping his head smartly to the side.  The bouncer pulled his head back rapidly and reached for the man, missing him by a fraction of an inch as he pushed back, reaching inside the blue jacket. 

Winston reached for his own pistol as the man in the blue jacket slid the matt black shaft of his silenced weapon out.  I looked back as we pushed through the door into the cold night to see the bouncer double over as two muffled shots tore out of the back of his shirt, then saw the blue jacketed man’s head explode in a mist of pink blood and brain tissue as Winston double tapped him noisily, saw the silenced pistol slip to the ground from the hand extending from the blue jacket.

Outside, retching while running, I heard another muffled shot, then a louder one followed by a pained shout.  Winston bowled out of the door, a dark patch forming on his right arm above the elbow.  Geek pulled me hard, dragging me away from the bar into the near deserted car-park where a few minutes earlier I'd watched two men sat in a car, staking us out.

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Digital Life Form will be back with part 8 soon.  Can't wait?  Like all of my books Digital Life Form is available as an eBook and paperback on Amazon and can be read for free if you're an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited customer.