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 Walking the Dog by smilodon Chapter 14

   We waited all the next day for Bernie's call.  There was nothing on the
News, no big stories of mass arrests or a conspiracy uncovered.  The papers
were still running with the car bomb story although there wasn't much new
to report.  They had discounted the claims of the IRA splinter group and
fingers were pointing towards Bin Laden and his gang.  At least they were
now fishing in the right pond even if they were still wide of the mark. 
What we were dealing with was even out of Bin Laden's league; it had to be
State-sponsored in a big way.

   I went through the lists again with Angela to translate those entries in
Estonian, Russian and German.  The likely picture that emerged was of a
core of individuals at the centre of the plot with a lot of others who had
been suborned to look the other way or otherwise collude with the schemers.
Some probably didn't even know what they were involved in.  A minor
official on a border post somewhere was paid $5000 to look the other way
when certain lorries passed.  He probably thought it was contraband of some
sort but wouldn't dream he was turning a blind eye to the deaths of
millions.

   Apart from the central characters, it wasn't easy to see what many of
those listed had to bring to the party.  Our three prime suspects were a
case in point.  Perhaps the civil servant could provide false documents to
allow stuff to move cross-border without too many questions but the MP and
the tycoon didn't seem to offer much at all.  We puzzled over this for a
while until Liam had the idea of looking on the web to see if we could gain
any clues from what these two posted on their official web-sites.  I'm
hopeless when it comes to computers but Liam and Niall don't go anywhere
without a laptop.  They plugged into the telephone line and we had the
usual www - worldwide wait -while they searched.  Renfrew's newspaper had
its own site and we trawled back through its archived stories.  These were
mostly prurient celebrity tittle-tattle and attacks on the Government, The
Europeans, illegal immigrants and single mothers.  Most of the site was
devoted to softcore images of vapid-looking naked girls with surgically
enhanced breasts.  A real intellectual, our Mr Renfrew.

   He also had his own web page where he rambled on about his philosophy
and the need for freedom of the Press.  It didn't tell us a thing as to why
he should be involved but his name was on the list.  Charles Brownlock, MP,
had a strident site.  It was full of the usual politicians' rubbish but
with the slant of always portraying Charlie Boy in the best possible light.
The most interesting thing to us was a section that contained transcripts
of all his speeches.  We read the turgid maunderings of this spiteful
little man without too much enthusiasm.  He had one cause, it appeared, to
trample on those who made money.  Profit was the root of all evil.  He was
rabidly anti-capitalist and unashamedly socialist.  That wouldn't make him
too popular in his Party, these days.

   Travers, the civil servant, had one of those free-hosted sites with
pictures of his prize-winning begonias or something.  I'm no gardener but
Travers was an absolute fanatic.  Nothing political or inflammatory there.
They seemed strange bedfellows, the right-wing newspaperman, the left-wing
politician and the begonia grower.  I couldn't see a link for the life of
me.  It was Niall who found it.  He flicked back and forth between the
various sites.  His face was a study in concentration.  Finally, he turned
to us with three pages cascaded side by side.  "There, you see?" I had to
confess I did not and the others looked equally nonplussed.  "The lapel
buttons," he said.  They all have some little flower badge in their
lapels."

   We all stared hard at the photographs on the websites.  Each man had a
formal picture of himself in a business suit, smiling at the camera.  Each
had a little emblem in their lapel.  It looked like a carnation or
something similar.  Angela's father told us that he he'd seen this badge
before.  He'd noticed it a couple of times being worn by other people on
his list.  It hadn't been worn by everyone and the meaning escaped him.  We
tried searching under 'carnation' or 'pink' but nothing helpful showed up
on any of the search engines.  There is an old saying: 'once is chance,
twice is coincidence and three times is enemy action.' The little flower
obviously had some meaning.  We checked out a few more on the list who had
websites.  We found two others who displayed the badge in photographs of
themselves.  One was a German politician and the other an American radical
who had made a name for himself for attacking big business and tying up
major corporations in complicated lawsuits.  The German didn't seem to have
done anything much more than get himself elected and was pretty anonymous
even in his own country.  It was hard to see any connection between these
five other than the little emblems.

   "Could it be an international charity?" I asked.  Liam shrugged.  "If it
is," he said, "It's bloody ineffective if none of us recognises its logo."
"I think it is some sort of sign," Angela said, "it helps them recognise
each other." Liam agreed.  "And if anyone asks, it's a charity or political
club or a branch of the bloody Lions or something.  It makes sense but it
is insecure." "Not necessarily." Niall disagreed.  "If there is absolutely
no other connection.  But it doesn't conform to any normal pattern of the
terrorist cell, I grant you."

   Even I understood that.  Terrorists usually organise themselves in such
a way that each little group doesn't know any other little group.  That
way, if one lot get arrested, the damage is limited to that cell alone. 
It's classic Che Guevara.  "I think I'll call Bernie," I said.  I dialled
his home number and he answered on the second ring.  He didn't have too
much to report but he had found out, through a contact in Land Registry,
that Charles Brownlock had purchased a small farm near Southwold in
Suffolk. He had bought the place a couple of years ago but it wasn't listed
as either of his addresses and wasn't remotely near his inner-city
constituency.  We were all immediately struck by the proximity to
Felixstowe.

   "Right," said Niall.  "I'm going to take a look.  Bill and Steve, you
come with me.  Liam, you and the colonel stay here with Martin and Angela."
Nobody argued but just as they were getting ready to depart in the Range
Rover, I pulled Niall to one side.

   "This has gone way too far, Niall.  If you find anything, I want you to
promise me that you'll call Swann at Special Branch and let them run with
it.  I feel bad enough about getting you and Liam involved.  All right.  I
know we're friends and I know you think you owe me.  Consider all debts
more than paid in full.  And please, be bloody careful!"

   "Martin, there are old soldiers and there are bold soldiers.  There are
no old, bold soldiers.  We'll simply check the place out and if there is
anything amiss, I promise I call the boys in blue."

   With that, they left.  I still felt uneasy but could see no alternative.
We couldn't go to Swann with what was, let's face it, just a bunch of
suppositions and conjecture.  Angela and I walked the dogs along the beach.
We held hands and talked quietly about what the future might bring once
this was all over.  "I don't want to stay here afterwards," Angela said. 
"It will never be the same.  I felt at peace here but now that is gone."
"You could come to London," I said.  She smiled.  "Where would I work?  It
is too expensive in London.  I could not afford a studio and Frau Meyer is
already too generous.  "We can sell my house, move out of town a bit and
buy somewhere that has the room for a studio.  Somewhere with a garden and
green fields nearby to walk the dogs in."

   "What are you saying, my Martin, that you would like us to live
together?"

   "Yes.  I would like very much for us to live together.  If you want to,
that is."

   "I think I would like that very much, too."

   "Then it's settled.  As soon as we get back, I'll put the house on the
market and we start looking for somewhere.  It will need to be near a main
line so I can get to London easily.  Maybe in Kent or Sussex."

   "It will need to be near a river or a lake.  Magic must have his swims!"

   "Of course.  We should be able to get somewhere with a good-sized garden
so they can play outside.  It will be much better than Kensington Gardens."

   We walked on, planning our new life together.  I could work from home
quite a bit, so we would need a study.  Angela would need a big room or
out-building that we could convert to a studio.  There would have to be
nice walks nearby and a good train service within easy reach.  We were both
aware that something was hovering in the air between us, unspoken but
implied.  My mouth went dry and my stomach turned over.  I turned towards
her.  Her eyes were huge and she licked her lips, a quick, nervous gesture.

   "I, uh, shall we make it official?"

   "Official?"

   "Um, I mean to say, er, that is.  Oh shit!  Angela Sable, will you marry
me?"

   She didn't say a word.  She stared at me with those huge eyes brimming
with unshed tears and gripped both my hands tightly in hers.  Suddenly she
burst out with a bright peal of delighted laughter.  "If my father will
permit it, my Martin!" She flung herself against me, rocking with mirth. 
Tears streamed down her cheeks but her face was alive and radiant with
happiness.

   "When we were small, Vika and I would sit and discuss who we would we
marry.  When my father heard us, he would growl.  'I will not permit any
daughter of mine to marry any man who does not pass the TEST' he would say.
But he would never tell us what this 'test' was.  'You will see when the
time is right,' was all he would ever tell us.' Now I will find out!"

   We walked back to the cottage.  The colonel had been watching us all the
while and he rose out of the evening gloom like an apparition.  Angela
started to tell him but he held up his hand.  I could see that he was
trying hard not to smile and keep his face stony but he couldn't keep the
merry twinkle out of his eyes.

   "Colonel," I said, "I suspect that you understand English very well, I
have asked Angelika to be my wife and would like your blessing on this
marriage." The old soldier stared at me.  "Why you think I speak English?"
he said in a slow, accented voice that sounded like brick rubble sliding
down a metal chute.  "Sometimes you seem to have understood things before
Angela finished the translation," I said.  He nodded.  "I don't speak good
but some I understand.  I speak now to Angelika.  She say my words to you."
He fired off some rapid Estonian.  Angela gasped and started to argue but
he cut off with a gesture of his hand.  He repeated something very slowly
and she shrugged.

   "My father says that you must prove yourself worthy of marrying his
daughter.  He says, to do this, you must beat him.  I try to tell him that
you are not a soldier; you do not fight.  He says he understands this.  He
says you will know what to do.  I don't understand."

   I did.  The old boy was having some fun at our expense.  "Tell him I'll
beat him at Chess," I said, "Tell him I'll wipe the board with him." She
looked at me as if I was mad but the colonel had understood 'Chess' at
least and was grinning broadly.  "I don't have a Chess set," Angela wailed.
"I don't need one," I replied.  "Pawn to king four." Throughout my
schooldays, I had been a Chess fanatic.  I had spent hours 'playing'
without a board with a similar fanatic.  Of course, when you're playing in
the middle of a Latin Lesson, you don't have a board so you play in your
head.  It takes a huge amount of practice but I'd had plenty.

   The colonel followed me for about five or six moves and then, like most
who haven't played this way before, he lost it.  I had him in checkmate
after eleven moves.  He started to protest but I repeated each of our moves
to him verbatim.  He laughed and shook and his head.  Then he shook my
hand. "Clever man.  You have Angelika and good chance!" "Good Luck," Angela
corrected him, "In English, you say Good Luck!" He grinned.  "Good Luck,
Good Luck!" He then spouted another burst of Estonian that had Angela
blushing crimson.  I asked for a translation but she refused.  Her father
roared with laughter.  Then he leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks
and said something in a low, serious voice.  Angela nodded, muttered a
reply and gave him a shy smile.  She turned to me.

   "My father asks if you make me happy, if you are gentle with me.  I told
him you are the gentlest man in the world.  " She turned back and spoke
some more with her father and they walked off together, his arm draped
protectively over her shoulders.  He looked back and beckoned for me to
follow.  Placing his other arm over my shoulder he smiled at me with great
warmth.  His big hand squeezed my shoulder and he spoke softly in Estonian,
leaving Angela to translate.

   "I have not been a good father.  I was not a good husband.  I spent my
life as a soldier playing men's games.  I am happy you will be my son.  You
are not a soldier and will not always be leaving Angelika as I did.  One
daughter is dead.  I thought that I had lost this one as well.  Now it is
time to end this thing that I began so you may marry and live your lives in
peace.  Peace is the job of the soldier, not war.  You have had to be like
a soldier and I am sorry for this.  We must fight for a little time more.
We must win or there will be no peace for you.  There will be no peace for
anyone.  You must put aside any thoughts of tomorrow while it is still
today.  You both have my blessing.  I think you are good for my Angelika.
You love her and wish to look after her?"

   I said I did.

   "I know my daughter.  We have grown apart in recent times but still I
know Angelika.  I saw the way she was with you, saw that she loved you and
you loved her.  This is good.  This is a good thing for a father to see.  I
wish her mother could see it too.  But now we must be ready to fight.  Do
you understand?"

   I understood all right.  He was telling me that we mustn't get
distracted, that there was still danger out there.  I didn't need
reminding.