Veil of Civility

Chapter Fifty-Seven

"Aye, that's it, the B976." Shane said as he turned on the overhead light in the late '80s model Range Rover and looked at the map he had unfolded in his lap. "Middle of nowhere, innit?"

"Aye," Declan said looking at the signs on the side of the three way fork in the road. The SUV's headlights shone over a weathered metal sign with a brown background and white lettering that pointed west and gave directions to Balmoral and Braemar Castles, tourist attractions that wouldn't begin their open seasons for nearly a month. "Are you sure about this?"

"Aye, that's Gairnshiel Lodge," Shane said pointing to a smallish, Gothic era castle that sat a short distance off the road behind an ancient looking rock wall. "According to my source the drive's just another few miles down this road on the right."

"According to your source? You mean you've never been here before?"

"Like I said, Dec, I'm not exactly on the guest list when it comes to your lordships and ladies. I have an informer in Falkirk that's rather decent with a computer. He found the location and provided the directions."

"Grand. We've hacked our way to the secret location of the MI5 director's weekend home."

"Looks like a single track road. It's gonna be hard to spot the drive in the dark."

"Oh, what do ya mean?" Declan said, in a mocking tone. "I'm sure there's a bright neon sign."

"This was your idea," Shane said, as he shifted the Range Rover back into gear and the engine made a whining sound as he piloted the vehicle down the roughly paved, one lane road. From the passenger side, Declan watched as the ancient rock wall surrounding Gairnshiel Lodge passed by. In the distance he could make out the barren looking peaks of the Cairngorm mountains up ahead. In a matter of minutes they'd not only be in an extremely remote and forbidding wilderness, they'd be there in the pitch black of night.

After a mile, the rock wall ceased and a quickly flowing river joined the road on its right hand side, a metal guardrail preventing what little traffic probably traveled the road from accidentally taking a swim. The road continued on over small hills and valleys until the river retreated away into the distant fields on the right and finally the headlights of the SUV fell over a hollowed out stone building that looked like it had been standing since the days of Robert The Bruce, if not longer.

"There," Shane said, pointing to the building. "The drive's gotta be right here somewhere."

As soon as he said it, they passed a rough dirt road. Shane braked hard and shifted the SUV into reverse. Backing up, he turned right onto the road and slowly proceeded past the old stone building. Declan noted two knee high metal poles on each side of the drive as they entered.

The vehicle's shocks squeaked loudly as the Range Rover bounced through deep potholes filled with water that sloshed audibly as the tires passed through. The road wound down a hill between two fields, a waist high barbed wire fence on either side, before entering a cluster of trees. Declan looked left and right, but couldn't see anything through the tree cover; what little bit of light there was, was blocked by the thick forest. He could see his breath on the cold glass of the window as he strained his eyes. This place was dangerous, he could feel it.

"Supposedly Greumach Manor was originally built in the fourteenth century after the end of the First War of Scottish Independence," Shane said as the forest ended and the vehicle moved again into open terrain. "Robert The Bruce deeded the lands to his supporters in the Clan Graham and they've held them ever since."

Declan looked left at two more ruined stone buildings. "Aye, looks old enough."

"Rumor has it that the RAF built a base nearby that included a bunker for the Royals during World War II. It was supposedly an evacuation point for Balmoral Castle if the Royals happened to be in residence when the Germans attacked. The existence of the bunker has never been verified, but the possibility is enough to keep every chattering conspiracy monkey frothing at the mouth at what goes on there now that it's no longer needed. Just like Rudloe Manor in the south with all the rumors of aliens and such. Blarney, if you ask me."

The SUV bounced and groaned as it passed over a rickety bridge spanning a ten foot gap in the terrain where a small creek flowed. "Looks like the end of the road," Declan said, as the headlights fell over a metal gate that blocked the way, about twenty yards ahead of them.

Shane stopped the SUV. "I guess we knew it wouldn't be that easy."

Declan opened the passenger's side door and stepped out.

"Where're you going?"

"We passed several security sensors along the drive in. They know we're coming."

Shane's expression changed to one of concern. "What do we do?"

"Stay here and hope they don't shoot you on sight," Declan said, flashing a smile. "I'm going to make my way out and about a bit. See if I can't get a look at what's coming at us."

He quietly closed the door and moved away from the vehicle, the damp cold of the Scottish evening attacking him suddenly now that he was away from the heater inside the SUV. Having been in the car for over eight hours as they made the journey north, his joints popped and his muscles stretched now that he was moving. He ran into some tall grass beside the road and crept along a narrow ditch towards the metal gate. It wasn't a security gate, but rather the kind of gate you'd see on a cattle ranch or horse farm. What could be either a storage shed or guard house stood on the right hand side of the driveway, its wood blackened by the moist weather and harsh temperatures. Along both sides of the gate was a rock wall that amounted to a pile of stones about eight feet high, held in place by wooden posts and mesh fencing. It was clear that whoever lived here wasn't expecting any visitors, nor were they prepared for any kind of security needs. Had he not seen the hastily placed sensor poles when they'd pulled onto the drive, there wouldn't have been any sign of security at all.

He exited the ditch and crossed quickly to the storage shed. The building had only one window, but he couldn't see through it in the dark. He ducked again and moved around the back of the building to the base of the rock wall. Grabbing onto one of the fence posts, he pulled himself up and over the wall. He landed on the uneven ground on the other side and caught himself with an outstretched hand as he nearly fell. Keeping low, he moved along the wall towards the gate.

At the gate he noticed a narrow path that cut off to the left from the main drive. Even from his position on the opposite side he could clearly see the tracks of a vehicle that had passed over the muddy road in recent days. He looked ahead and kept moving, the terrain inclining more as he moved along the wall. As he neared a grove of thick trees he came to a place where the rock wall turned ninety degrees and continued up and over a hill. He stood upright and again grabbed onto one of fence posts to lift himself over the wall. Instead of going all the way over this time, he lifted himself onto the top of it so he could see over the hill. As he did, he was hit with the smell of burning wood.

Looking down towards the base of the hill he could see the source of the smoke. A two story stone house sat just out of view from the main drive. Surrounded by a smaller rock wall and with a heavily overgrown garden in the back, he knew he couldn't be looking at Greumach Manor. For a lord's house he expected something far grander. He looked back towards where he'd left Shane parked. The SUV's headlights had been turned off but he could tell the vehicle was still running by the cloud of exhaust rising from its tail pipe. He was about to pull himself the rest of the way over the wall when the unmistakable sound of an engine starting came from somewhere near the house.

His turned his attention to a small barn when a pair of headlights were turned on and pierced the holes between the barn's wooden slat construction. Suddenly the doors were thrown open and a black Range Rover pulled forward, stopping briefly so the man who had opened the doors could get in.

"Anything?" he heard a British voice yell.

"No," came the response. "It's not moved away yet."

The man getting in slammed the door and the SUV took off. Declan ducked from view as the vehicle passed, making a quick right and then a quick left around the ninety degree turn in the rock wall. As soon as it was around the wall and its headlights shone over Shane's SUV, the driver floored the accelerator. Thirty yards later, the driver turned the vehicle suddenly and skidded to a stop in front of Shane, the passenger side door opening.

"Get out of the car!" Declan heard someone yell as he jumped down off the wall and began making his way back towards the gate, using the wall as cover to prevent his approach from being seen by what he could only assume were some kind of security guards. As he neared the gate he removed the Glock pistol he was carrying from his jacket and chambered a round. Securing the suppressor he'd been carrying in his pocket, he stopped at the edge of the gate and peered around. Two men stood behind the open doors of the black Range Rover, each aiming a sidearm in Shane's direction.

"Get out of the car now!" one of them yelled.

Declan watched as the driver's door of Shane's olive green 1986 Range Rover opened.

"Alright, alright," Shane said, his arms raised above his head as stepped out of the car. "I'm obviously in the wrong place."

"Keep your hands up and come around the front of the vehicle!"

Declan watched as Shane did as he was told. "I'm just a lost motorist," Shane said loudly. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot."

Looking through the windows of the black Range Rover, Declan could tell by the illumination from the headlights that the two guards were the only people in the vehicle. As Shane stepped slowly towards the front of his SUV, Declan pulled himself up and over the gate by placing his hands on its top rail and hopping over. He silently absorbed the impact of his landing by bending his knees and quickly withdrew the pistol from his belt again as he stood upright. The guards' attention was focused on Shane and neither saw him approaching as he moved slowly towards the rear of the vehicle. Whether Shane saw him, he wasn't sure. He just hoped that he was ready to act when the time came. He stopped at the back of the SUV and waited as Shane reached the front of his own Range Rover with his hands raised.

"Right then," the driver of the black Range Rover said, "Cuff him."

The passenger guard slowly moved out from around the door with his weapon still aimed.

"Easy, easy," Shane said. "I'm not looking for any trouble."

"Shut up," the guard replied, as he looked quickly over his shoulder at his partner. The partner nodded, indicating that he had the scene covered so his counterpart could holster his weapon and retrieve his handcuffs. Slowly the guard did just that, withdrawing a pair of white flexi-cuffs from the pocket of his black cargo pants after holstering his sidearm. Declan watched as he stepped towards Shane. Over the rumble of the two Range Rovers' engines, neither guard heard a sound as he stepped towards the right side of the black Range Rover and crept towards the driver, his pistol held by his side.

For a moment, Declan locked eyes with Shane who kept his hands in the air as he held his friend's gaze.

"He's not lookin' at me!" the driver suddenly shouted and he started to turn, but it was too late.

As the passenger guard dropped the flexi-cuffs and went for his sidearm, Shane stepped in and grabbed his gun hand before he could draw the weapon and threw a punch across the bridge of the man's nose. Declan blocked the driver's turning motion by grabbing his wrist as he struck him in the temple with the butt of his pistol. The man collapsed against the inside of the driver's door and slowly, Declan allowed him to fall to the ground still holding onto his gun hand. He wrenched the pistol away as the guard stared at him, bleary-eyed from the powerful strike.

"Jesus, Dec," Shane said from a few yards away. "I've still got it. Even after all these years."

Declan stood to see Shane wrench the passenger guard's pistol away, his hand under Shane's boot and pinned to the ground at the wrist. Shane stood with a smile, rubbing his knuckles.

"C'mon. Up with you," Declan said, as he grabbed the driver and pulled him to his feet, pushing him against the side of the black Range Rover with a hollow thunk.

A loud static filled the air. "Celt 2, this is Celt 1, over? Is everything clear down there?"

The voice came from a radio unit located on the dashboard of the guard's Range Rover. Declan and Shane locked eyes, each of them thinking the same thing.