Wrecking Crew

SEVEN

Stone was gradually awoken from a warm fussy slumber by Linda’s gentle kisses on his mouth and eyelids. She was wearing his sweatshirt again and sitting on the edge of the bed. The early morning sun was shining brightly through the open curtains. As Eric blinked and sat up, Linda smiled and kissed him fully on the lips — then she made a face.

“Yuck — morning breath! Come on Stone, get up and brush your teeth. I’ve made breakfast.” She hopped off the bed, pulled off the sheets, and with a giggle, ran from the room.

Breakfast was eggs, toast, and coffee. Stone was usually a ‘morning person’, rising early with a big smile and a cheerful demeanor as he went for his morning run. However, today he seemed unwilling to wake fully. He wondered if perhaps he was subconsciously hanging on to the events of the previous night, just in case they were a dream. Gradually the caffeine began to work its magic and he felt better able to assess his surroundings. They ate without speaking for several minutes, sharing the occasional furtive glance. Finally, Linda offered a shy smile and broke the silence.

“I… err… I… Look, about last night.”

“I know what you are going to say,” Stone said. “We had both had a lot to drink, I understand if—”

“Oh no, it’s not that,” she interrupted, “I wanted to — I really wanted to. It’s just that… I didn’t want you to think… well you know… we had only just met and… that’s not normally something… ” She stopped talking and bit her bottom lip. Stone could see that there were tears forming in her eyes, he quickly stepped around the breakfast bar and hugged her fiercely.

“I wanted to as well. I wanted to hold you and kiss you — and the other things — as soon as I first met you.” The words flooded out of him with sudden and surprising emotion. “I’m glad that we met. I want to see you again — I really want to see you. I want to see you tomorrow. I want to see you every day!”

Linda smiled and kissed Stone, and he kissed her back eagerly. They hugged for a while longer, before she wiped her eyes and spoke in a mock business-like tone of voice.

“Ok Stone, today I have to go home and change, but you can see me tomorrow. I’ll start stalking you first thing.”

She held up a hand for a fist bump.

“Deal?”

Stone responded with his own clenched fist and they touched knuckles.

“Deal! Now let’s hit the shower.”

“Ok, if you’re a good boy, you can wash my back.”

Inevitably, their shower took a long time. The delightful combination of firm wet bodies and slippery shower gel, made them both feel as horny as hormonal teenagers. Their passionate coupling would probably have continued all day, had the water not begun to run cold. They were in the bedroom getting dressed when a disturbing thought struck Stone.

“What day is this?” he asked.

“Err… It’s Saturday. Why?”

“Saturday? Shit, it’s half ten already!” Stone said hopping on one leg whilst trying to pull up his jeans, “I have a meeting at midday and its miles away!”

“You’d better hurry!” Linda laughed, “Was it important?”

“Kind of. Oh, crap! I’d forgotten. There’s probably some stuff I’ll need to do. I may not be able to see you tomorrow.”

“Ha! Dumping me already?” She stuck out her tongue. “Can’t it wait — or better yet, can I come with you? If you’re not too long, I could wait in the car and read a book, then we could go out afterwards.”

“Ah… It’s not as simple as that, it may take all day — or even several days.”

“I don’t mind waiting a while,” Linda said, her eyes pleading, “really.”

Stone found himself torn. On the one hand, he wanted to see Linda again as soon as possible. On the other, he was feeling guilty that he had almost forgotten his commitment to Charles Rathbone. He suddenly felt the need to share his burden and found the words pouring out before he could stop.

“The truth is it might be dangerous — very dangerous.”

He sat back on the bed, one leg still stuck inside his jeans. He gave a long sigh and ran his hand across his head.

“You remember my friend Charles Rathbone?”

“Of course — the one who committed suicide,” Linda said, sitting on the bed next to Stone.

“Well, the thing is… well actually, he didn’t kill himself… well he did, but really he was forced into doing it,” Stone stammered.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s complicated, but the detail doesn’t matter just now. I can tell you all about that later. The thing is… well there is this group of very bad, very dangerous people that made up a load of lies about Charles. They put my best friend in such a bad position that the only way out was for him to kill himself.”

“My God, that’s awful!” she said, putting her hand on his arm.

“Before he died, he sent me all of the information he had about these people, and he asked me to put things right.” Stone looked Linda in the eye and held her hand. “You see, the thing is, I made a commitment to try and stop them — so that the same thing can never happen again. That’s what my meeting’s about.”

“Who are they, are they like a biker gang or something?” Linda asked.

“I wish, but that would be too easy. No… this is actually a respectable business — or so they would have you believe. They actually make their money from bribing and stealing from other businesses and things like that. They’ve even killed people that were in the way of governments’ and businesses,” Stone said shaking his head sadly.

“My God, that’s just bizarre. It sounds like some kind of Mafia group or something.”

“That’s a good analogy, but as far as we can tell they aren’t connected to any other criminal gangs. Most of the work they do is for crooked businessmen and Politicians. They’ve done things like burning down competitors’ factories and discouraging environmental activists. They seem to be very good at what they do; sort of guaranteed results for hire.”

“Shouldn’t you just call the police or something?” Linda asked. Stone shook his head firmly.

“We would if we knew who we could trust. That’s what Charles was planning to do and look what happened to him. He was going public, but somehow they found out. I know this all seems like some loony conspiracy theory, but the evidence Charles compiled is rock solid. These people have contacts all the way to the top — the very top. The guy I’m meeting with, he is a friend and an ex-cop, but he agrees with me. He and I are the bottom line on this.”

“So what are you going to do?” Linda looked serious, but sincere in her interest.

“Find out who and where they are, and then stop them — once and for all,” Stone said.

“When you say stop them… ” Linda queried carefully.

“Once and for all — for Charles,” Stone replied sternly.

“Oh… ” Linda said quietly.

“So you see — I can’t see you tomorrow, and probably not the day after either. In fact, you should stay away from me until this is over.”

“No,” Linda said crossing her arms firmly.

“No, what?” Stone asked, puzzled.

“I want to help.”

“I can’t let you do that!”

“I want to help — I mean it.”

“Look Linda, I appreciate the offer, but these people are dangerous — really dangerous. I can’t let you expose yourself to that kind of risk. It would be crazy.”

She shook her head firmly.

“I’m a big girl Eric, I can look after myself, and if needed, I can walk away any time. Let me help you.”

“Why… Why would you do this? We just met, Linda. Come on — I appreciate the sentiment but be serious!”

Linda turned to face Stone and fixed him with a rock steady gaze.

“Charles was your friend, and this thing you’re going to do matters to you — correct?”

“Of course,” Stone nodded.

“Well, if I’m involved with you, then it matters to me as well. So please — let me help.”

Stone felt his resolve weakening. Even with Ed Carter involved, he felt very alone. He realized that he really did want to keep Linda around. If only, so that he could talk with her and share his feelings. With a shrug of defeat, he took her hand and made a commitment he would soon come to regret.

“Ok. Let me talk with Ed today. He has more experience than I do in things like this. If he’s ok with it, then you can help.”

Linda gave a girlish ‘whoop’ and pumped her fist. “Yes!”

Stone jumped in quickly.

“But I will not allow you to put yourself in any danger — agreed?”

“Sure — of course,” she said with a nod. Then Linda leaned forward and kissed Stone firmly on the lips. “Now, you’d better get dressed or you’ll be late for your meeting!”

They exchanged phone numbers and Stone agreed to call Linda as soon as he was available. Then after another passionate kiss, they climbed into their respective cars and left.

The meeting was arranged for mid-day at Megan’s office, which was really just a front bedroom in her Harlow apartment. Although he was running late, Stone decided not to call ahead, preferring to limit communications by electronic means and reduce the risk of being intercepted. In any event he was confident that Carter would not mind if he was a few minutes late.

It was a beautiful and sunny day and the traffic was mercifully light. Stone was deliriously happy as he drove, smiling broadly, as he sang along to the radio. He was still smiling broadly when he rang the doorbell at Megan’s apartment. He was just thirty-five minutes late. Carter answered the door and immediately got down to business.

“Come in, Eric. Megan has some interesting stuff for us.”

Stone followed Carter down the narrow corridor and into the converted front bedroom, stepping over two tabby cats in the process. A familiar kitten ran out to greet him. It circled his legs twice before quickly darting out through the door. Eric smiled, happy to see that the little kitten was settling in to its new home.

The small front room was a tight fit for three people. Inside there were two desks, three computers with large flat screen monitors, two laptops and a confusing mass of twisted cables. Carter made the introductions.

“Eric Stone, meet Megan Smith, the best IT expert on the planet!”

Megan Smith was somewhere in her early forties, she was a large woman, a very large woman. She probably weighed over 300 pounds, but in some ways, it suited her. The phrase ‘larger than life’ came to mind as Stone saw her bright green dyed hair and lose fitting kaftan. The cotton shroud looked like a small tent, coloured white, with large blue and orange spots. With some difficulty, Megan turned her chair away from the computer monitor and studied Stone with a critical eye. He gave her a little wave to accompany his friendly smile and casual, ‘Hey’. She gave him a short nod and slowly turned away, before announcing to her computer.

“Well, someone got some last night.”

“Megan!” Carter exclaimed.

“Well he did. Nobody can smile that wide unless they’ve just had their world rocked.”

Carter turned to Stone apologetically.

“I’m sorry Eric, Megan likes to shock people. I think she’s over-compensating for her unusually warm nature.”

“Fuck off!” Megan said gruffly, “it’s ‘cos I’m jealous.”

Stone smiled and held up his hand.

“It’s ok, I understand. Anyway, as it happens, she’s right.”

“She shoots — she scores!” Megan pumped a fist dramatically, and then she sang softly, “Eric’s got a girlfriend.”

“Alright, that’s enough, Megan. Take no notice, Eric. It’s just her way of testing people, she likes to be outrageous,” Carter said.

“No problem,” Stone said honestly, as he walked to Megan’s side and offered his hand. “I’m genuinely pleased to meet you, Megan. Ed speaks very highly of you and your skills. I very much appreciate you giving a home to that kitten. Now I hope that you can help me with my problem.”

She considered his hand for a moment, then reached around and shook it firmly. Her hand was damp with sweat, and so fat that she couldn’t grip properly, but that didn’t concern Stone. He liked this woman — she had a fighting spirit. Megan looked at Carter and nodded.

“Ok Ed, he’ll do, but only because the cats like him.”

“Good!” Carter smiled in relief. “Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, perhaps you can show Eric what you have found?”

“Sure. Make yourself comfortable boy’s, Ms. Smith is on the stage — and remember; it’s never over until the cat lady sings!”

There wasn’t enough room in the office for any other chairs, so Stone and Carter sat on the other desk together, their legs dangling like two schoolboys.

“Actually, what I didn’t find was more interesting than the things that I did,” Megan said, turning towards Stone. “Eric, how much do you know about how our browsing habits are tracked when we‘re online?”

“Not much really. I suppose that I’m rather a Luddite when it comes to computers,” Stone admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “I know we leave traces wherever we go on the internet, but other than that, it’s all a bit of a mystery.”

“You and everyone else!” Megan said raising her eyebrows dramatically. “In fact, if the general public knew just how much data was produced by their online activities, most people would stop using the internet completely.”

“That sounds disturbing,” Stone said pulling a face.

“Indeed. Anyways — I’ve set up a little demonstration to make a point,” Megan said, indicating a laptop on the desk. She kept up a running commentary as she began typing.

“Now boys; this is just a standard garden-variety laptop. It’s connected to the internet using a local Wi-Fi connection — not mine I might add. It has some decent quality security software installed, which is up to date. Just now, I’m accessing the net with Firefox, but I could use any other browser; it wouldn’t make any real difference. I have left all of the browser settings to the manufacturers default for this first demonstration. Ok?” She looked at Stone and Carter to check that they were following. They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Good. I’m going online now.”

She began typing, carefully explaining what she was doing with each action.

“First, I’m going to check a dummy email account… ”

“And now I am looking for a book on a well-known retail site… ”

“Now I’m searching for a hotel deal in Glasgow… ”

“And finally, I will visit this site to look at some porn — don’t get too excited lads; it’s just some vanilla nudity!”

She turned and gave them a cheeky wink.

“Now in the background I was running a browser add-on called ‘Lightbeam’. It will show us what information has been gathered about this computer.”

Megan opened a second window on the computer and pointed to the search results.

“There… so Lightbeam is telling me that I was browsing for five minutes and during that time I accessed seven web sites. It also says that my computer loaded cookies from those seven sites and one-hundred and fifty-two cookies from other third-party sites that I did not access.”

She turned again.

“You understand what cookies are?”

“Err… well, I—” Stone stammered but Megan quickly interrupted.

“Cookies are basically little bits of code that websites install onto your computer as you browse. At best, they ‘help to improve the quality of your browsing experience’, or so they claim. At worst, they steal and share your data with anyone who is prepared to pay for it.”

Stone pulled a sour face at that revelation. He politely indicated for Megan to continue. She began making changes to the laptop’s settings. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she spoke. Stone was impressed by how easily she could type and converse at the same time. In his limited experience, even minor technological challenges required his full and undivided attention.

“Now, I’m going to change the settings in Firefox. First I am telling it that I do not want to be tracked any more… ”

“Next I am changing the policy on cookies, so that we no longer accept any from a third-party website. That should do for the moment.”

“Now I am going to revisit those same websites that I did earlier… there… and there… and there… good, that should do fine.”

“Mr. Stone, if we look at Lightbeam again, what do you think we should see?”

Like a schoolteacher, Megan turned towards Stone and raised a heavily mascaraed eyebrow as she waited for his answer.

“Well… ” he said with little confidence, “I would expect that the results should be zero.”

“A good guess — but wrong!” She pointed at the screen. “Now look here, Lightbeam shows that I was online for five minutes, and that I accessed the same seven websites. During that time, this computer still loaded seven cookies from those sites, and it also accepted another thirty-eight cookies from several other third-party sites; even though I told it not to.”

“So much for those ‘privacy settings’,” Stone said.

“Indeed! And even if I had gone for the most secure settings, I would still have been leaving great big fat footprints — only a few less than before.” Megan waved her arm expansively towards her computer systems. “In fact even I, with all of this kit, would leave some traces. It’s the same with banking, telecommunications, utility bills and pretty much anything else. You will always leave a trace.”

“I think I understand what you’re getting at. What you’re saying is that whenever we go on the internet, go shopping, or just breathe in and out, we leave traces — is that correct?” Stone asked, politely hoping to get to the point a little quicker.

“Yes, as such,” Megan agreed. “The thing is, even the best protected surfers will still leave some evidence. The most private and careful individuals cannot help but leave some digital footprints. If not a name, or an IP address, then there will be an invoice, or an accidentally created profile. There’s always something. Even if it’s just a vague shadow, there’s always something that I can follow.”

“Right, I understand,” Stone nodded, happy to reach the conclusion of the lecture. “So what did you find?”

Megan slowly turned her massive bulk until she faced Stone and Carter, before answering dramatically.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing — you found nothing at all?” Stone asked.

“Nothing, nada — not a damn thing.”

“Is that unusual?” Stone was confused as to where the conversation was headed.

“No, it isn’t unusual,” Megan said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “It’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” Stone asked. “How do you mean impossible? Like NASA’s ‘the impossible just takes us a little longer’ kind of impossible?”

“No, I mean the impossible kind of impossible,” she answered firmly, “the like me and Brad Pitt, kind of impossible.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed, Mr. Stone.” Megan ran her fingers through her brightly coloured hair. “These days you cannot go on the internet, live in a house, work from an office, drive a car, operate a checking account, or even buy food without leaving some trace that I can follow.”

“And yet you found nothing,” Stone recapped.

“Got it!” Megan banged her fist on the desk. “I found not one damn thing — nothing!”

“How can that be, Megan?” Carter spoke for the first time.

“There are two possibilities. Either the Wrecking Crew does not exist — and we know that they do, or there is someone very, very, very good, covering their footprints.”

“So are we screwed then?” Carter asked quietly.

“Not necessarily, even the lack of clues is a clue in itself.”

“How so?” Stone asked with genuine interest.

“There are very few people in the world who have the skills necessary to pull this off. There are a few government types, mostly in China, South Korea, and Russia, but I think we’re looking for someone who’s from the West. My guess is that it’s probably someone working privately.” She smiled wickedly and patted her capacious chest. “In all likelihood we’re looking for someone with experience just like mine.”

Megan could see from the blank expression on Stone’s face that he had missed the significance of her last comment. She gave a frustrated sigh and continued.

“A quick history — I’ve been immersed in the world of computers since the age of twelve. I founded an internet security firm at the age of nineteen, before selling up to join GCHQ as a forensic investigator. I left them just six years ago, to go back to working privately — mostly for this twat!” She said, pointing at Carter. He nodded politely in response.

“So it’s most likely that we’re looking for someone like me. Someone with my skills,” she said, her voice rising proudly, “and that, Mr. Stone, is a very small pool of names!”

“Right, I get it.” Stone nodded. “So what do we do next?”

“I’ll start searching for their computer ‘expert’. Now that I know what I am looking for, it shouldn’t take long to narrow down the suspects. I’ll ask around discreetly, I still have friends in the hacking community. Someone somewhere should know if a rising star has dropped off the grid.”

She pointed at Stone and Carter.

“You guys need to follow the money — there’s always money. Even if it was paid in cash, someone had to earn it, someone spent it, and at some point, it probably went into a bank. Find that bank and we’ve found them!”

Stone nodded. “Ed, do you agree?”

“Absolutely, it’s the way to go, and we begin with Anton Stephens. Jeffers gave us Anton Stephens. Just now, he’s our only substantial lead. Megan was able to find out a good bit about our Mr. Stephens. Megan?”

Megan picked up a sheet of paper from the desk and began to recite.

“Anton Stephens, born Birmingham, UK September 1969, only son of… skip that bit… quite intelligent… four A levels… did business studies at Uni. Had a couple of run-ins with the local constabulary, grievous bodily harm and possession of a class ‘A’ drug… got a suspended sentence for the drugs but the GBH never went to court. Apparently the victim suffered a nasty fall and then had a change of heart over his evidence.”

“After Uni, Stephens moved to London and started work as an assistant manager in a chain of night clubs. That’s probably where he got into the retail side of the drugs scene. Two years later he left the nightclub, along with a Ukrainian bouncer named Alexis Markov. They moved to Essex where, after a violent turf war, Stephens set up his drug distribution business. A couple of years ago, he started rolling the profits into moneylending and taking bets… ” Megan paused to check her notes.

“I checked the Essex police records through a friend,” Carter jumped in. “His name is like a bad rash, it pops up over and over — mostly related to drugs and violent attacks. They seem to specialize in really vicious, nasty, and excessive violence. Unfortunately, the police can never get any witnesses to testify. I don’t think the local cops will be sad to see the back of Anton Stephens and this Ukrainian bodyguard, Markov.”

“Noted,” Stone said seriously.

Megan carried on with her report.

“As you would expect, Stephens does most of his business in cash, so there isn’t much information in his bank records that is of interest. His ‘respectable front’ is as a marketing consultant. I suspect that he washes some of his drug money through local bars and clubs, and they pay him under the guise of marketing advice. That way he can legitimately put money through his checking account for his mortgage, insurance, phone contract, income tax and the like. He must have some actual skills on the marketing front, because he’s done work for several legitimate clients. In the last twelve months he has provided marketing advice for a dentist, a golf club, and even a respectable charity.”

She handed her notes to Carter. He accepted them with a polite nod of thanks. Megan continued.

“I can see nothing that would lead us up the ladder to the Wrecking Crew at this point. It looks like you guys will have to ‘interview’ Mr. Stephens personally, to find out what he knows.”

Megan gave a sly shrug as she tried to avoid the image of what such an interview might look like.

“Luckily Stephens has a cell phone and a state-of-the-art security system on his Mercedes. I found that both systems have their GPS tracking enabled, so with my help you’ll know where he is, and where he’s heading.”

She tossed a smart phone across to Stone.

“This is set to show his location at all times. The registration number of his Mercedes is ANT 02 BET. Jeffers was pretty close about that.”

She held up a second sheet of paper for Stone to see.

“These are mug shots of Stephens and Markov. They’re nasty looking fuckers. I can see why people fear them.”

Megan gave Stone a hard look.

“Watch out for Markov, Eric. He hasn’t any form over here, but there was a lot of information from Interpol to suggest that he was a very bad boy before he left the Ukraine. He was a suspect in several killings, some really nasty and sadistic stuff. He’s also believed to be into sex trafficking as well, and we’re not talking about consenting adults here.”

Megan waved a warning finger.

“Listen carefully to me Stone, this maggot Markov has a reputation for losing control. Extreme violence and the like — you look after Ed, or you’ll have me to deal with!”

“You have my word,” Stone nodded. “Thanks for all the work you put in, I am truly grateful.”

“You’re welcome, Eric,” she said with a warm smile. Then she added an afterthought. “You know I liked Charles Rathbone and what he stood for. Most politicians are about as useless as a chocolate fireguard, but he was a good man. I think he would have made a difference.”

“I think he would have liked you as well Megan, I really do.”

“What?” she laughed aloud, “The debonair Rathbone with a fat girl who lives alone and keeps cats?”

“He could be shallow sometimes,” Stone admitted, “but he was drawn to intelligent and challenging women. I think you would have got on really well.”

“Thank you.”

Megan smiled genuinely before waving the two men away.

“Go on, boys — go and find the animals that caused Charlie’s death, and shut them down!”

Ed led Eric into the small sitting room. All of the chairs were occupied by sleeping cats, so they sat on the floor while they discussed the next step. Carter described his plan.

“The GPS records show that every Saturday night Stephens does his drug and loans deliveries around the bars in south Suffolk. He always visits Hadleigh, Ipswich, Needham Market, and finally Stowmarket. If he sticks to his schedule, he will be parked by the lake just outside Needham Market at around 9.30pm tonight.”

“Really?” Stone asked. “Is the tracking data that accurate?”

“Yep,” Carter nodded with a big smile, “and Stephens is as regular as clockwork. From what Jeffers told us, his clients expect him to be at a certain place at a certain time.”

“I remember — he said it was like the fish and chip van doing the rounds. Good for us — bad for him.”

“There’s no bar nearby, but Megan and I think that they stop at the lake for a rest. I guess even drug dealers are entitled to regular breaks,” Carter joked. “Perhaps they stop there for coffee and sandwiches, and a little privacy to count their money and sort the stock. In any event, I know the area pretty well. The lake would be a perfect place for an ambush.”

“So we get there early and lay in wait?” Stone asked.

“That’s pretty much what I was thinking,” Carter agreed. “I say we drive up to Ipswich now. There’s a big service area at the top of the A12. We can have something to eat while we wait. When we’re ready, we leave one car there and take the other to Needham Market. It’s around ten miles farther. If we get there at eight, we can park out of sight and work out where to hide by the lake. With the GPS tracker, we’ll know exactly when they are coming.”

“And then?” Stone asked.

“That’s your department, what do you suggest?”

Stone thought for a while before answering.

“We’ll stop at my house and pick up my shotgun and the crossbow, just in case. If they’re both in the car, then we may need some visible incentive to get them under control. If one or both are out of the car, and there’s a lot of ground to cover, then I may have to use the crossbow. It’s quick, deadly, and almost completely silent. I’ll be in a better position to make a decision when we get there.”

“Ok, has the makings of a workable plan,” Carter said in a business-like tone.

Stone could imagine Ed using the same voice to give his team of police officers confidence, just before a tricky stakeout.

“There’s one final point,” Stone said, “whatever the layout, I want to take Markov out first. I intend to take him fast and hard. He’s the most dangerous, and it’s unlikely that he’ll know much, if anything, about the Wrecking Crew. After that you can question Stephen’s at your leisure.”

“And afterwards?” Carter asked.

Stone’s mouth tightened.

“We’ll see. I have a feeling that they’ll be the kind of people who won’t give in easily, or forgive and forget after the event.”

Carter nodded sternly.

“I understand.”