Sean shook his head. ‘No, not your money.’
‘How do I know that? You could be a common burglar I found in my house and I am a responsible householder. I could be forced to shoot you.’
‘No’ said Sean again. ‘Not with the evidence I have about your involvement in the project — evidence that will survive my death.’
‘You want to trade your life for some sort of media scoop?’ the man responded sarcastically.
‘No, I want to trade your life against stopping more deaths.’
The man thought for a few seconds, then indicated with the gun that Sean should sit. The man sat opposite, keeping the gun trained on Sean all the time.
‘Who are you?’ the man asked.
‘An interested third party. Names aren’t relevant, but rest assured I represent a significant player who is determined to get what they want.’
‘Even if I were to kill you now?’ The man raised the shotgun slightly.
Sean shook his head. ‘Do that and your world will fall apart. You will have every law enforcement agency crawling over you and your business companies for the next five years. They’ll put you away permanently.’
‘You’re not leaving me with any options.’ The man placed his finger gently back on the trigger.
‘I’m leaving you with one option’ said Sean. ‘I’ve come for information — not for you. You tell me what I want to know and you’re free to go.’
‘How do I know you haven’t got a swat team waiting outside?’
‘Look for yourself’. Sean gestured towards the window.
The man’s gaze didn’t waver for a second.
‘Look, we know about your plan to discredit SeaTek. You engineered a virus that sent that experimental sub on a rampage. You hoped the Department of Defence would quietly drop their plans for Cetus and come running straight back into your arms.’ Sean’s eyes were fixed on the man’s trigger finger. ‘You thought the DOD would come back to the only supplier they could depend on. Your contracts would be safe into the next century.’
Was there a slight relaxation in the posture? Sean saw the finger move away from the trigger. ‘We just need to know how to stop it’ he said softly.
Slowly, the man twisted the hand holding the barrel, bringing the watch on his wrist into view. He quickly glanced at it before returning his steady gaze back to Sean.
‘If I tell you how, you turn around and get the hell out. I need an hour.’
‘That’s fine by me. You tell me and I walk out.’
The man waited a moment. ‘I’ll tell you after I’ve…’.
There was a sound from behind Sean.
‘I see you brought company.’ Clarke raised the gun and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter 31
In the same fraction of time Sean was already moving, tipping backwards over the chair. Aware of a hot blast of metal as he arched back, he felt a sharp tug to his side as the pellets tore through flesh. He executed a roll even before hitting the ground and used the oak desk for cover.
Adrenaline pumped into his blood stream. The overturned chair lay on its side. Sean grabbed the broken end of one leg and jet-crawled to the other side of the desk. He could sense Clarke before his foot slid into view, encased in a beautiful blue leather slipper. Sean rolled again and brought the wooden stake down in a savage jab to the man’s leg.
Clarke swung the gun around in an arc and trained it on Sean. The trigger finger tightened once more. A brief thought flashed through Sean’s mind. Kelly, his pupil. She was once in the same position, but then she had Sean looking after her.
Sean stared up into the black hole of the barrel, knowing he was looking death in the face.
He heard the sound of a shot and was puzzled by the absence of a flash from the mouth of the barrel. Clarke sagged, then dropped to the ground.
‘Careful’ shouted Lomax. ‘It’s me, Lomax.’
Slowly Sean got to his feet. He held his side and approached the man on the floor. Then the pain hit and Sean staggered. When he looked down, he could see blood oozing out between his fingers. ‘Jesus, Lomax. What are you doing here?’ He held onto the desk as Lomax approached.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’ll be OK’ Sean said through gritted teeth. ‘What are you doing here?’ he repeated.
‘Change of plan’, said Lomax. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Privately, Sean was fuming. He detested these late changes in plans, no doubt initiated by London. Lomax may have saved his life, but the mission was his. And he detested the interruption from the director in the field, even though his life had probably been spared by the interruption.
Sean waved Lomax on ahead while he hunted round the kitchen for some kind of rag to staunch the bleeding. He found a tea towel in a drawer, made it into a pad and wedged it underneath his shirt. Slowly and painfully he came back to the office, surveying the mess. The whole thing didn’t feel right. Why had Lomax followed him in and killed Clarke — only Clarke had the knowledge about how to stop Cetus.
Sean looked at the paintings on the wall. When the police or FBI came to investigate, domestic burglary would be top of their list. Conceivably they might treat it as a politically motivated murder because of Clarke’s powerful status in the industry. In Sean’s view it was worthwhile to tip the odds in favour of burglary.
As he examined what lay behind each of the three pictures, he could hear police sirens in the distance. The picture nearest the desk contained a small wall safe. Sean did not have time to use an electronic lock pick and he knew it was beyond his own skills as a safe breaker.
He found a small plastic box in the rucksack, opened it and carefully lined the door and lock with what looked like plastic putty. Inserting a small metal cylinder into the putty, he attached the wires to a switch and battery. He moved to one side of the safe and stood with his back flat to the wall before pressing the switch.
There was a sharp bang and some smoke. Sean looked at the safe and took hold of the handle — he was able to swing the door open without difficulty. Inside there was an automatic on top of a small metal box. There was nothing else in the safe. Sean took the box and stuffed it quickly into the rucksack.
The sound of the police sirens grew louder.
Lomax shuffled as fast as he could across the lawn. He was mulling over what explanation he should give Sean, and failed to notice a looming black shape between the trees. As soon as he entered the tree line, the Doberman went for his throat.
Before Lomax knew what was happening he was down on the floor, struggling with the biggest dog he had ever seen. The collar of the protective suit he was wearing was strong and the dog failed to get its teeth around his throat properly. Even so, Lomax felt his breath being squeezed out of him. He put both of his hands around the neck of the dog and started to strangle it. It made no difference — the dog wouldn’t let go. Next, Lomax used stiff fingers to jab and poke its eyes out. The dog simply closed both eyelids, moved to the side to avoid further attacks and started to yank on his throat. Lomax felt the approaching blackness of unconsciousness.
He heard a thud before starting to drift away. Then someone was shaking his shoulder roughly. Lomax opened his eyes and recognised Sean.
‘Come on’ Sean said in a whisper.
'The dog?’ croaked Lomax.
‘Taken care of.’ Sean helped Lomax to his feet as the first of the police cars swept into the drive. They hobbled to the fence under the protection of the trees, Sean holding Lomax with one arm under his shoulder.
Sean went over the fence first with difficulty. When he stretched over the top to help Lomax clamber up, the pain in his side flared.