1963 North Carolina by David Lamb
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1963 North Carolina By David Lamb Brigadier Lewis Caradog, veteran MI6 agent, inched forwards along the steep side of the roof, checking each tile would take his weight before making each step. The moon was covered by cloud, so the shadows were nice and deep. Lewis liked shadows; kept things nice and simple shadows; no running around making lots of noise with shadows. Lewis was a master of stealth, he could blend seemly into a crowd, vanish in the shadows and cross a squeaky wooden floor silently. He always went to extreme lengths to draw as little attention as possible at every point within any operation he was involved in. His frequent operational partner, Brigadier James Law, was more like a plane crash in a fireworks factory. Slowly Lewis moved towards the dormer window extending from the roof, a yellow light coming from the room inside. He could hear shouting coming from inside the attic. That would help to hide any noise he made. “These people always make it easier for me.” thought Lewis, “they don’t post any sentries, and then they kick up a fuss and lose any chance of spotting me coming.” Obviously, they did not expect anyone to be coming. The occupants of this house were not enemy intelligence agents, or even soldiers, they were an organised crime gang and Lewis knew it was unfair to hold them to the high standard of his normal adversaries. James Law recoiled back in the chair as the air was forced from his lungs by a straight punch to the gut. He sat with his head forward gasping for a few moments, then shock it. Page | 1 1963 North Carolina daringfiction.com by David Lamb “That was shit.” he said, “my ten-year-old niece hits harder.” James smiled. The man hitting him did not see the joke and hit him again. Lewis watched the scene in the small mirror he held at the edge of the window on its extendible rod. James was hit again, and fell sideways, the chair he was tied to coming with him. One of the men walked up to the struggling figure on the floor and kicked him. Lewis reckoned that would break a couple of ribs. Lewis made a careful examination of the man, so he would remember him for later. Six foot one; maybe forty years old; light brown hair with some signs of sun bleaching; two gold rings, one with a blue stone; mole on the left side of his neck. “You’re going to stop a few, sunshine.” thought Lewis having singled the man out for the unique experience of been shot by Lewis more than once. Lewis prided himself on his one shot, one kill track record. Lewis could see this was a normal sash windows with a single quadrant arm lock on the inside where the top and bottom parts of the windows met. It was the sort that could easily be opened from the outside if you knew what you were doing, which he did. “Good”, he could get in without having to break any glass. Three men to defeat was to many for a knife, it would have to be a suppressed pistol. One pistol should do. “Take it easy on him.” he heard one of the men say. “This guy’s starting to annoy me.” said one of the others. “You’re starting to annoy me.” quipped James. “Shut up!” they all yelled, followed by the sound of another punch. Lewis slowly removed a thin flexible piece of metal from his webbing. He would be able to use it as a shim to open the lock on the window. Do it slowly and carefully so no one in the attic room would hear him coming. Page | 2 1963 North Carolina daringfiction.com by David Lamb “You might not want to be all that helpful right now, but we’ll see how you do when Mr Anderson gets here tomorrow.” said one of the men. Lewis stopped, the shim poised near the gap between the upper and lower window frames. Timothy Anderson was the reason he and James were in North Carolina this month. He was an up and coming drugs peddler with many international connections, including Cuba. While his new money habits did not speak loudly of communist sympathies, with the big crisis over those Russian missiles only seven months behind them, he had to be checked out. It was of utmost importance to find any American citizens that had ties to the Castro government, political, financial, or criminal. Anderson defiantly had contacts in the FBI, so the job had been passed to the British who were sufficiently distant to keep operational security. James had been working on a lead when he had been caught and brought to this house. Lewis had eventually decided it was better to free James, and then both of them go after Anderson, rather than Lewis go alone and hope James freed himself. Now the man they were after was coming here, which removed the inconvenience of looking for him. Now all Lewis had to do was get close to Anderson without getting James killed at the same time. Timothy Anderson had created an image as some kind of playboy. He bought big mansions, like this one, kept racehorses, always had the latest flash cars, wore a very deep tan, and sported far too much jewellery for Lewis’ taste. Plus, he wore the same sort of suits as James, always from the latest big-name designers, in the latest cuts and colours. Lewis didn’t like that sort of thing, it was fine for a civilian, but in this line of work it was bound to get you noticed. Lewis did not like to be noticed and kept his suits finely tailored, tasteful and traditional. Tonight, he was not in a suit. He wore black military fatigues with Page | 3 1963 North Carolina daringfiction.com by David Lamb his own hand made webbing which he had modified continually over the last few years to until everything was exactly where he wanted it and made no sound as he moved. The mansion, the roof Lewis was crouched on, was in the early colonial style of the region, with a large portico at the front and lots of balconies on each floor. It had been modernised recently with a new wing on one side and the building was now L shaped. The main part of the house was underneath him, with the short part of the L comprising the east wing. The front of the house was on the north side with a square of land about four hundred yards wide and two hundred yards deep through which the drive curved towards the front entrance. The ground was dotted with big mature trees which helped to hide the house from the road, although their last use had been to hide an intruder from the house. Three stories below Lewis, on the south side of the house, was a big swimming pool. The garden to the rear of the house was in darkness but the lights from the ground floor reflected off the water’s surface casting just enough light for Lewis to discern its shape and surroundings. The pool was a regular rectangle with the house on its north and east sides. On the south and west sides, a tall square cut hedge surrounded the pool area, giving it privacy from the rest of the grounds.There was a small building, not much more than a shed in the far corner. It was separated from the main house, and looked to Lewis like a good place to hide until Anderson arrived tomorrow. Lewis made his way along the roof to the west end of the house where he could see a balcony on the floor below. The room that the balcony was outside of seemed quiet and dark. He waited for ten minutes, listening, before he was convinced the room was empty. Lewis lowered himself over the edge of the roof and dropped on to the wooden floor of the balcony, bending his knees as he landed until he was sat on his haunches, his arms absorbing more Page | 4 1963 North Carolina daringfiction.com by David Lamb energy from the fall so he made virtually no sound. Quickly checking around him, he climbed over the balcony railing and down the wooden support to ground level. As soon as he reached the ground, he stepped neatly into a shadow at the base of the tall neatly trimmed hedge that ran up the side of the pool. He waited. No sounds of alarm came from the house. He could hear the muffled sound of talking from somewhere inside, but it was normal quiet conversation. The faint sound of music reached him. The men were clearly bored, and not expecting trouble they had turned on the radio. If only Anderson wasn’t coming tonight Lewis would have found ways to entertain them. Still there was always tomorrow. Slowly Lewis made his way across the stone slabs that surrounded the pool towards the little hut. The sound of conversation suddenly got louder behind him and Lewis just had time to get into a recess in the hedge, where a statue stood, before the outside lights came on. The pool glowed blue as the lights under water came on, and the lights on the back wall of the mansion illuminated the area just behind the house. Two men walked into the lit area from a door at one end of the house.