climbed the stone steps in the small, cobblestoned square. As my head got level with the concrete between the two sides of the ramparts, I saw the Renault, still reversed against the wall, now with another car parked to its right.
Two other people were up there with me, old men chatting with each other by the rampart overlooking the port, where the wrought-ironwork met the stone. I hit the pressle before I got too close as I took the last few steps up onto the wall.
“N has the trigger. N has the trigger. H, acknowledge.”
Click, click.
I got up top and looked out over the port, between the van and the other car. I gave myself some time to admire the effect of the dazzling sun bouncing off the water around so many hulls. If Hubba-Hubba had any sense, he’d be using the time to rest his eyes.
I checked that the blinds and gangway were still the same, then down over the wall and left, into the dead ground, to make sure the Romeos hadn’t decided to move out in the minute or so it had taken to regain the trigger and weren’t walking along the quay. I could see the Scudo, reversed into a space so that the rear blacked-out windows faced toward me. The vehicle blocking Hubba-Hubba’s view was a small, refrigerated van picking up crates of fish from the boats. I got my eyes back on the Ninth of May as a passionate conversation was developing on the other side of the police van, and saw movement on the bigger Lee. Three kids, aged from ten to twelve, were doing boaty jobs on the deck. Two adults, whom I presumed were their parents, were in chairs at the back, drinking coffee.
Still playing the tourist, I stared out at the fort overlooking the mass of masts and glittering hulls. In less than five minutes the fish van was on its way back through the archway. I moved back toward the steps. “Hello, H, that’s the truck clear. Acknowledge.”
I stayed up top, waiting for Hubba-Hubba to take over as the two old men sauntered past behind me, their arms flying around as they put the world to rights. They disappeared down the stairs with their dogs in tow. I suddenly felt naked, with my back to the van and no one else here.
“H has the trigger. N, acknowledge.”
Click, click.
I’d finished my bit of tourism and headed back to the steps, wondering where I’d go now for another coffee.
Three paces down I got click, click, click, click in my earpiece. I smiled, slowed down, and hit the pressle. “Is that a stand-by from H?”
Click, click.
Shit, they were early.
“Are they both foxtrot?”
Click, click.
“Are they dressed the same as yesterday?”
Nothing.
“Are they carrying a bag?”
Click, click.
Then he came on the net. “Romeo One has the same bag. It’s full. They’re both wearing jeans.” The net went dead momentarily. “That’s approaching the archway.”
I stayed put, smiled some more, and sat on the stone step. “N can take, N can take. L, where are you?”
“Nearly at the station, nearly there.” His voice merged with the passing traffic.
“H still has Romeo One and Two, at the archway…Wait…wait, that’s now crossing the road, toward me. They’re staying on this side of the wall.”
The radio went dead as I started down the stairs again into the square and right toward the archway. If they had a camera in the Renault, I bet it had been snapping away big-time.
Chapter 45
I got to the arch and waited for information. It wasn’t long before Hubba-Hubba came back on the air. “That’s Romeo One and Two in the parking lot, following the wall and unsighted to me.”
I went through the archway, turned left, and could see their backs immediately among the lines of vehicles.
“N has Romeo One, Romeo Two foxtrot. Halfway along the old wall, generally toward the train station. L, acknowledge.”
An out-of-breath Lotfi did just that. “L has the trigger on the station.”
“Roger that, L. Romeo One, black leather jacket on jeans, carrying the bag. Romeo Two, brown suede jacket on jeans. L, acknowledge.”
Click, click.
“That’s both Romeos now temporary unsighted.”
I moved to the right as I passed Hubba-Hubba’s blacked-out windows, trying to get a better view now they were hidden by some buses.
“Both Romeos still temporary unsighted, still generally toward the train station.”
There was nowhere else for them to go just now, unless they could walk through walls. Hubba-Hubba would be crawling his way under the pool-playing dogs now and moving out of the parking lot so there would be no delay when he needed to go mobile. He had better do it right. The van could see him from up there.
They appeared on the other side of the buses.
“Stand by, stand by. N has both Romeos approaching the end of the wall. No one acknowledge.”
I started to cut in left, toward the wall now, so I’d be more or less behind them when they hit the end of it, with freedom to go in any direction. Romeo One was clearly nervous.
I hit the pressle. “That’s at the end of the wall and still straight, generally toward the station. Approaching the first option left — they are aware. No one acknowledge.”
I was now behind them by about thirty yards as they passed boat supply and insurance shops before stopping at the intersection to let a vehicle out. “That’s held option left, still intending straight, toward the station.”
They continued on over once the vehicle had passed. “That’s now foxtrot still straight.”
Getting to the intersection myself, I overheard a voice that could have been Michael Gaine’s as a crew-cut thirty-something with a black nylon Docklands bomber jacket gabbed on his cell phone. “I don’t fucking care. What’s the matter wiv you, you deaf or somefink?” Farther down the junction a Brit-plated truck with pallets of goods was being unloaded for Geoffrey’s of London, a shop that seemed to supply baked beans and plastic cheese to the huge numbers of Brits who worked on the boats.
I got back on the net. “That’s Romeo One and Romeo Two still foxtrot, approaching the main before the station. L, can you at the main?”
The last leg of the route was uphill and they would be unsighted to me for far too long once they crossed the main street as it was higher, dead ground to me.
He could. “L has, L has. Romeo One. Romeo Two. At the main, they’re crossing, approaching the station.”
The Romeos were unsighted to me now as I moved uphill and the traffic screamed past in both directions above me. The station was on the other side of the main street. In front of it was a bay for taxis and a small parking lot.
“That’s H now complete. N, acknowledge.”
Click, click.
Lotfi kept up the commentary. “That’s approaching the station.”
I got to the main drag and also watched them while I waited for the green crossing signal and Lotfi kept talking on the net. “That’s both Romeos complete the station, unsighted to L.”
The green signal flashed, the bleeps cried out, and the traffic stopped reluctantly. I babbled and smiled as if
