‘This is bullshit‚’ Idris muttered under his breath‚ purposely loud enough for the Chief to hear. Wakefield let it slide as she replaced the envelope back in the top drawer.
‘Dismissed.’
Idris stood his ground for a moment‚ his blood bubbled and threatened to spill over. He eyed the Chief momentarily before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. He placed his hand on the door handle but didn’t turn it. A question had been burning through his mind as soon as he had seen the photographs. He looked down at his hand and his knuckles had turned white. He released it and turned to face the Chief.
‘Who was that man you were talking to outside?’
‘I said you’re dismissed‚’ Wakefield said‚ her head down‚ avoiding eye contact.
Idris couldn’t let it go. ‘Is this anything to do with him?
This time Wakefield’s head snapped up and her eyes locked into his.
‘Get out of my office‚ now!’
Major General Stewart Sinclair sat in Boardroom 3 alongside John Robinson‚ Assistant Director of Counter Terrorism Operations. Boardroom 3 was the smallest boardroom in the Security Service building‚ however it remained a popular choice due to the breathtaking and calming views of the River Thames. On the table in front of them was a printed photo of Javid Qasim. Teddy Lawrence‚ the young officer‚ sat across the desk from them and was on his second exaggerated glance at his watch.
Kingsley Parker walked through the door‚ removed his pea coat and hung it on the back of his chair. As he sat down next to Lawrence‚ his coat slipped to the floor. Lawrence suppressed a smile. A smile which did not go unnoticed. Parker picked up the coat and looked around the room for a coat stand. Unable to locate one he folded the coat and placed it on the chair next to him.
‘Traffic bad‚ Parker?’ Lawrence asked.
Parker ignored him.
‘Right. Let’s get started‚ shall we?’ Sinclair announced. His authoritative manner was such that anything he said sounded like an announcement. Every word enunciated and boomed‚ ensuring that there could be no mistakes as to what had been said or heard. The Major General had previously been in the army and he still used his rank. ‘Parker‚ you attended two meetings‚’ Sinclair looked down at his notes. ‘With our very own Dr Thomas Gladstone and Chief Superintendent Penelope Wakefield of Hounslow Met.’ Sinclair didn’t wait for a response. ‘Would you like to brief us?’
Parker fidgeted slightly in his chair. His woolly jumper had started to itch and he had to make a concerted effort not reach around and scratch his back. He started slowly‚ tripping over words but he eventually found some rhythm as he filled them in. From his peripheral vision he could see the obvious glee emanating from Lawrence.
‘Well‚’ Sinclair said‚ ‘the good doctor‚ as always‚ at his elusive best. He is right‚ though. It is very much a judgement call. What’s your take on it‚ Parker?’
‘The ease in which he can adapt to his environment‚ could see him as an invaluable asset. It wouldn’t take much for him to get noticed by the radicals who attend Sutton Mosque. Already‚ he’s shown his commitment to the community with helping out at the mosque and then the subsequent revenge attack at the car park in Staines. No question‚ news of his action would have been noticed.’
‘And we’ve got him by the balls!’ Lawrence chimed in.
Sinclair looked at Lawrence calmly‚ with an amused look on his face. ‘We’ll come to you in a moment‚ son. Please continue‚ Parker. How did it go with Wakefield? Will she bend?’
‘She isn’t best pleased with our proposition. Given the time frame‚ she feels that she is being rushed into a decision that she doesn’t want to make. They have invested a lot of time and resources targeting the upper-echelon drug dealers. One particular big fish‚ actually.’ Parker reached across to his coat and dug around awkwardly from pocket to pocket and eventually removed a crumpled photograph and placed it on the table next to the photograph of Javid Qasim
‘Who are we looking at?’ Sinclair asked.
‘This is Silas Drakos AKA The Drake AKA The Count. We believe he is responsible for a high percentage of the drugs that flow through West London. He is also believed to be involved in the buying and selling of some very heavy artillery.’
‘Drakos is not our problem.’ Robinson finally broke his silence and a waft of his lunch emanated. ‘Wakefield has to cooperate or we go over her head.’
Parker carefully eyeballed Robinson. Robinson was exactly the kind of guy that Parker hated. The type that he had reported to throughout his career.
‘Wakefield has expressed concern that if they were to pick up Javid Qasim‚ Silas may go to ground.’
Robinson looked at each face around the table. ‘Somebody care to tell me how a bloody drug baron is taking precedence over national security? I don’t care if he’s Pablo bloody Escobar.’ Robinson jabbed a nicotine stained finger on to the crumpled photograph. ‘Silas Drakos is not a priority!’
Silence descended. Parker put his hand on his knee before it started to hammer and counted to ten in his head. He took a breath and in a calm measured voice he said‚ ‘There is a way to appease both—’
‘Appease?’ Robinson shouted‚ as though he and that word had shared some dark history. He stood up and walked over to the water cooler. ‘Let me tell you something‚ gentlemen‚ we are currently watching eight Muslim clerics‚ in London alone‚ who are openly spreading hate and inciting violence. These clerics attract a big audience‚ and make no mistake that audience is growing by the day. It is clear as crystal what their agenda is‚ but can we kick them out? No‚ we bloody can’t. Because our government and our laws and our policies are in place to bloody appease!’
Robinson came back to the table‚ his face had reddened and he was slightly out of breath. He drank his water greedily.
‘Please‚ Parker‚’ Sinclair said‚ ignoring the outburst. ‘You were saying.’
‘We have gathered enough evidence for Javid to be convicted. That evidence falls into the hands of Wakefield. They bring him in and he gives a statement pointing to Silas.’
Sinclair rubbed his chin as he visualised how this would play out.
‘So‚ Silas is arrested and we have Qasim in our pocket‚’ Sinclair clarified. He looked across at Robinson. Robinson hesitantly acquiesced with a gentle nod. ‘Only question now is‚ will Jay play ball? We have him for dealing and assault‚ he’s looking at a short spell inside. Is there a chance that he’ll keep quiet and take the hit?’
Sinclair turned to Lawrence‚ who looked about ready to burst if he didn’t have his say soon. ‘Lawrence‚ anything you would like to add?’
Lawrence sat up straight‚ cleared his throat and held strong eye contact.
‘Yes‚ sir. We have Javid Qasim’s car in our hold. In the boot of his BMW we found a rucksack containing seven thousand pounds in cash and just under a pound of high-potency skunk weed‚ both of which we believe are the property of Silas Drakos. Regardless of who they belong to‚ the possession charge alone is going see Qasim receive a significant sentence. On top of which‚ it’s reasonable to assume that Drakos would not have been happy that his drugs and money have gone missing – and that’s putting it mildly‚ given his violent reputation. For both of these reasons I think Qasim has no choice but to sing.’
Sinclair nodded and his eyes