Dillon 10 - Midnight Runner by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Women Terrorists, Brothers, Intelligence Officers, Dillon, Revenge, Fiction, Suspense, Sean (Fictitious Character), Thrillers, Suspense Fiction, Terrorism, Terrorism - Prevention, Brothers - Death, Espionage
ISBN: 9780425189412
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2002-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

LONDON - BOSTON - WASHINGTON - LONDON

** Chapter 12

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Kate Rashid and Rupert Dauncey left the house in a maroon Bentley. Dillon was parked a little way along the street, wearing a helmet and black leathers, pretending to be working on his Suzuki motorcycle. He got on and followed them.

There was no particular reason for the trip, and he hadn’t told Ferguson or Hannah he wasn’t reporting in. It was a fine bright morning, with plenty of traffic, so he was able to stay back and the Bentley was conspicuous enough. They took the motorway for most of the time until Hampshire, then country roads, where he had to take more care.

He was surprised when they didn’t take the turn to Dauncey Place. He was able to stay behind a couple of farm trucks, the Bentley up ahead, and then it turned left and Dillon saw the sign DAUNCEY AERO CLUB.

It was the sort of place that had probably been an RAF station in the Second World War and then developed over the years. He saw a central building, a control tower, and something like thirty planes parked at the edge of two grass runways. Several vehicles were there as well, and the Bentley was one of them.

Dillon parked down toward the first runway and got out his binoculars. As Ferguson often liked to boast, Dillon could fly anything, and most of the planes he knew.

There was a rather nice Black Eagle taxiing along the side of the nearest runway. It stopped not too far away and a man in white overalls got out. Rupert Dauncey and Kate Rashid appeared from the main building and walked toward him. She wore dark Ray-Bans and a black jumpsuit. Rupert was in a bomber jacket and slacks. They paused to speak to the other man, then got into the Eagle. It taxied to the far end of the runway, turned, and took off.

Dillon moved to the end of the railings as the man in the white overalls approached and said cheerfully, “Nice Eagle, a real beauty. It’s a collector’s item these days.”

“Owned by the Countess of Loch Dhu,” the man said. “Flies it herself, and she’s good.”

“Where to today?” Dillon asked, and offered him a cigarette.

The man accepted. “She sometimes likes a day out of France, but she told me she was going to the Isle of Wight today. First, she was going to drop in at the big house, Dauncey Place. She has an airstrip there.”

“Is that legal?”

“It is if you own half the county.” The man laughed. “There’s a cafe inside if you want anything.”

“No, thanks, I’d better get going.”

Dillon got on the Suzuki and drove away. He rode back up to London, thinking.

The next time he parked was at the Dark Man on the wharf at Wapping. Harry Salter, Billy, Baxter, and Hall were eating shepherd’s pie, and everyone, except Billy, was drinking beer.

Salter looked up with a frown. “Here, what’s this?” and then Dillon took his helmet off.

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