The Price of Blood by Michael Langford

Author:Michael Langford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Langford Books
Published: 2016-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

A 20. The M4 Motorway. Friday, September 1st.

Travelling west from London, the Membury Service station is situated shortly before the exit to Swindon. Just after 10.00 a.m., Timothy parks his unremarkable blue Ford Focus in the back row of cars placed near the shops and cafés. A warning sign declares that anyone parking over three hours here will receive a heavy fine, but with luck he will be back to pick up his car within the allotted time; and if not, then the penalty will certainly count as an allowable expense, given the fact that he is strictly following orders.

He walks to the slip road onto the M4, just beyond the petrol station and a few yards before the motorway sign, beyond which it is illegal to pick up passengers. He checks his watch. It is exactly 10.14 a.m., and the message from Adrian had said “10.16, exactly”. It will be interesting to see whether this kind of literal accuracy is really meant. He has not seen Adrian since the dinner at The Parthenon, but at the end of his week’s initial training he had been told that for the next few months, Adrian was to be his immediate superior, or ‘line manager’.

Yesterday, after returning from Lancashire, Timothy had a day off, but in the evening he received his detailed instructions via the specially engineered mobile phone he had been assigned. No explanation was added to his instructions about this rendezvous, but this was to be expected; although the phone line had its special security features, one could never be absolutely certain about their functionality at the time, or even about a potential fifth-columnist or trojan horse.

It is 10.15. A rather battered, medium-sized lorry pulls up right next to him, and the passenger door is flung open. “Hop in,” says a familiar voice. The voice is that of Adrian, but Timothy had not recognised him when the lorry approached because he’s in drag! A brunette wig, large glasses and some subtle make-up on the face have made him unrecognisable.

Timothy tightens his driving gloves, which the instructions insisted on, as there were strict orders to leave no fingerprints in the lorry. As he climbs aboard, Adrian passes him a pair of heavy spectacles similar to his own. They have thick glasses that look like lenses, but which actually do nothing except for make a small reduction in the light. There is also a woollen cap to hide his hair and a thick scarf to partially hide his face. They will look a bit out of place on a warm day like this, but as they drive off Adrian explains: “Some of the new cameras on the motorways enable an operator to enhance the image – say, after an accident – and there is a danger that someone might recognise one of our faces.”

The traffic is light, and they take the innermost of the three lanes, cruising at just under seventy miles per hour. While Adrian drives he keeps glancing into the rearview mirror and listens to a hands-free mobile at the same time.

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