{"id":75,"date":"2011-02-06T22:52:28","date_gmt":"2011-02-06T22:52:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/?page_id=75"},"modified":"2011-12-11T11:56:29","modified_gmt":"2011-12-11T11:56:29","slug":"the-strife-of-riley-2","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/?page_id=75","title":{"rendered":"The Strife of Riley"},"content":{"rendered":"

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By Strength and Guile<\/i> is the motto of the Special Boat Service (SBS). The SBS is a highly secretive British Special Forces unit. Comparable to the SAS, they are the Royal Navy\u2019s elite, although nowadays men are selected from various UK military services, not just the Royal Marines.<\/div>\n
     The SBS are specialists on both land and water, though excel in amphibious operations, and are skilled Swimmer Canoeists. Their physical abilities, intelligence and skills to survive hostile situations are incredible.<\/div>\n
     This elite fighting force are sometimes known as the Invisible Raiders, and combine an extraordinary level of secrecy, stealth and guile.<\/div>\n

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Contents<\/div>\n
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Introduction
1 – The Record Keeper
2 – Imagery Intelligence
3 – A Hunter’s Game
4 – Fortune Favours the Brave
5 – Luck of the Devil
6 – No Rest for the Wicked
7 – Beyond This There Be Dragons
8 – HMS Excalibur
9 – Dark Matter
10 – The Edge of Nowhere
11 – Cape Wrath
12 – The Poison Code
13 – Invisible Raiders
14 – Shadow of the Warrior
15 – It is Rocket Science
16 – Special Forces
17 – Viva Glas Vegas
18 – The Dark Side
19 – The Uncorruptables
20 – By Strength and Guile<\/div>\n
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Introduction<\/div>\n

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Riley had been part of the SBS, the Special Boat Service \u2014 the British Royal Navy Special Forces unit. His last link with them was at HMS Excalibur, the submarine base near Helensburgh, Scotland. It was set beside the dark and unfathomable Gare Loch, north of Glasgow in the Firth of Clyde. He was also an experienced historian, raised by his father who was known as the Record Keeper, amid a world of ever changing history. History was to become Riley\u2019s future, but first, the past had to be dealt with.<\/div>\n
     As fate enjoys many cruel twists, his father died around the time Riley decided to leave the Special Forces and assume the supposed anonymity of a civilian. Riley became the new Record Keeper, more through a sense of responsibility rather than choice, but he was fine with that. Being the Record Keeper was his background career, while he concentrated on his own business as a modern private investigator. Riley was a cyber sleuth, an expert in computer related crime, a man at the top of his game, trained by the best \u2014 unravelling mysteries and tracing the electronic fingerprints we all leave behind every time we use a computer.<\/div>\n
     Riley had been one of the military\u2019s most reliable, ruthless and renowned cyber experts. In civvy street, his skills were soon in demand from the police, the government and oh yes, the military. Riley had left their building, but they still wanted him to keep his foot in the door.<\/div>\n
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Chapter One<\/div>\n

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The Record Keeper<\/span><\/b> <\/p>\n

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It had been two years since Riley\u2019s past had become history. A former member of the SBS, his last adventure with the military had dealt him his biggest measure of strife. But that was finished with. Now he was a civilian. Twelve years in the British Royal Navy had left their mark. Eight of those years in the Special Forces had scarred him forever. Aside from that, he looked just as fit as he\u2019d always been, over six feet tall and strong, perhaps even stronger than before, and at thirty\u2013four, only slightly older. Older but wiser? Well, probably not wiser. Riley had always been wise beyond his years. The problem was he rarely listened to his own advice . . .<\/div>\n
     Rain and hail battered against the windows of Riley\u2019s study, drumming into him a reminder of how harsh the weather in Scotland could be. October had arrived with a vengeance. Thunderstorms, icy rain that would rip the skin off your face, foggy nights when, if the cold didn\u2019t get you, the fog would. Glasgow weather. It was one of the things he\u2019d missed during his missions abroad. Others moaned about the grim, grey, damp days, but when you\u2019d nearly fried in the forests of Columbia, trudged across scorching deserts in rough boots, and floated for a week off the coast of the tropics, a wee bit of drizzle was very welcome.<\/div>\n
     It was around eight o\u2019clock at night, and he was working from home in a castellated mansion in a secluded area on the outskirts of the city. It was the family house he\u2019d grown up in and which was now empty of life, apart from him and the hundreds of books and data lining the walls of the study like a voluminous library. Charts of star constellations were framed alongside prints of ancient maps of the world. Riley\u2019s favourite map was one dating back to the days of the early mariners and explorers, before anyone knew what lay beyond the far side of the great oceans, and which bore the warning message \u2014 Beyond This Place There Be Dragons!<\/i> <\/i> Riley could relate to that sentiment. Life for him had never been easy. Haunted by the mess he\u2019d made of his past, he could appreciate that even in today\u2019s world, beyond some limits, physical or personal, there were indeed dragons. Maybe not the sort the map warned of, but treacherous, monstrous characters and places where human nature festered at its worst.<\/div>\n
     He secured all the windows which were getting a fair rattling from the hailstones. The wind howled like a wounded animal as it whipped through the trees that shrouded his vast garden from prying eyes. The property was protected by the latest high tech security that he\u2019d installed himself, and good luck to anyone who actually managed to break in while Riley was there. And he was there a lot. There was something calming about battening the hatches from the past and keeping off the main radar. The work flowed in via his computer or by phone. The police detectives and government officials rarely chapped his door. It was better for everyone that way. That\u2019s how his latest job had arrived, in the form of an e\u2013mail; an e\u2013mail containing a corrupted file that the police hadn\u2019t been able to fully open. Riley had been asked by the police in Glasgow to help them investigate the killing of a man whose computer insisted never existed. The man, a forger known as Mackenzie, had been found stabbed while apparently working at his computer. Mackenzie had an unsavoury criminal background, and from the initial data it appeared that he\u2019d compiled a killer\u2019s hit list. Unfortunately, Riley discovered his own name was on the hit list, once again providing him with his usual measure of strife.<\/div>\n
     After almost an hour of reassessing the data, searching remotely through the electronic history of the victim\u2019s computer, and seething that his name was on the list, he phoned Detective Chief Inspector Stanley Valentine, the detective responsible for giving him the case. He\u2019d put work Riley\u2019s way several times, and although the jobs were always done to everyone\u2019s satisfaction, Valentine\u2019s glib manner grated on him incessantly.<\/div>\n
     Main desk at the Glasgow police station picked up the call.<\/div>\n
     \u2018This is Riley. I\u2019d like to speak to Stanley Valentine.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Which one?\u2019 the police officer said.<\/div>\n
     Riley sighed. Only in the Glasgow police force could there be two aggravating bastards called Stanley Valentine. Father and son. \u2018The lesser of two evils,\u2019 he said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Hold on, Riley, I\u2019ll put you through.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Stanley Valentine, the son, had risen through the ranks to become a detective on merit, not because his police chief father pulled any strings. Aged thirty, Valentine was ambitious, assertive and annoying. Not necessarily in that order.<\/div>\n
     Valentine\u2019s tone was falsely bright. \u2018Riley.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley\u2019s deep voice poured down the line, a calm warning. \u2018I\u2019m not happy.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You\u2019ve seen the hit list?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018My name is on it. You knew I was a target and you didn\u2019t flag me.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine paused, then offered, \u2018I can off load the case elsewhere and leave you free to watch your back.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018If anyone should be watching their back right now, it\u2019s not me.\u2019 Riley\u2019s tone contained a threat with a promise.<\/div>\n
     Valentine backed down. \u2018I should have mentioned it, but I tell you what, if I were you I\u2019d want the chance to work on a case where I was on someone\u2019s hit list rather than leave it to others. You know I\u2019m right.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018If you\u2019re ever right, Stanley, I swear I\u2019ll jump in the River Clyde.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine smiled. \u2018You\u2019re the only man I know who could actually jump in the Clyde, survive the murky depths and climb out still breathing a week later.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley sat back in his chair and studied the list of names that were highlighted on his twin screen computer. His name stared out at him. <\/div>\n
     \u2018Who do you think wants me dead? No, rephrase that. Why did Mackenzie have the list on his computer data? He was a forger not a killer.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You\u2019re the computer expert, Riley. You\u2019ll figure it out before we do.\u2019<\/div>\n
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An informal social event that night was in full flow in one of the large offices of the Scottish Parliament building at Holyrood, Edinburgh. A party of around forty government and political figures were enjoying a drink.<\/div>\n
     Byrn Shaw, fit, tall, good looking, but cold featured, aged around thirty, worked for the government, bordering on politics. He was watching Richard Reece, a self confessed scoundrel and politician, approach a young woman, Catherine Warr. Reece was middle aged, but wearing well, similar in build to Shaw, and had reached a recognisable level of political success. Catherine worked for the government as an in house investigator. She was in her late twenties, very attractive, rich chestnut hair framing a rose and cream complexion.<\/div>\n
     Reece smiled as he approached her. \u2018Have I been behaving myself, Catherine?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You tell me, Reece.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I know you\u2019re keeping an eye on me, so I must be up to no good.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Everyone has to be accountable, even politicians who think they are a law unto themselves.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You should have been a lawyer instead of wasting your talents in the secret halls of government,\u2019 Reece said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018What, and miss out on all the intrigue and throat cutting? Speaking of which, I hear you\u2019re challenging Kier Brodie for his seat.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Reece lifted his glass of wine in a toast. \u2018May the best man win.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018He never does, but that\u2019s what keeps me in a job.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Politics, government, secrets and lies \u2014 it\u2019s all just a game, Catherine.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018If only\u2026\u2019<\/div>\n
     Reece studied her face. \u2018If only you\u2019d have dinner with me.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Tempting but no.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Reece smiled his acceptance. \u2018Wish me luck against Brodie.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You already have the luck of the devil, Reece. It doesn\u2019t get any darker than that.\u2019<\/div>\n
     He leaned close and whispered, \u2018You always did intrigue me, Catherine.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Several others at the party were in a boisterous mood as they approached Reece and swept him into their crowd. Catherine stepped back from them.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Don\u2019t let the bad guys get you,\u2019 Catherine said to Reece before walking away.<\/div>\n
     Reece smiled. \u2018Don\u2019t let them get you first.\u2019<\/div>\n
     For a second they looked at each other. There was uncertainty in Catherine\u2019s eyes. She hurried away.<\/div>\n
     Byrn Shaw watched her go.<\/div>\n
     Catherine walked briskly in the cold night to reach her car which was parked in the street. The night was foggy and dimly lit. Few people were about even though it was within Edinburgh\u2019s city centre. The fog had kept most of them indoors.<\/div>\n
     In the icy stillness she pulled her warm coat around her. Only the sound of her high heeled shoes disturbed the lull. She kept glancing around her, more from a sense of being followed than seeing anyone. She saw nothing but the fog, at first. But her instincts were right. A man was shadowing her. Tall and wearing a long, dark coat, his identity was obscured by the gloom.<\/div>\n
     She hurried on, searching in her handbag for the car keys. Fumbling in her bag, she dropped the keys and as she picked them up, she saw the man stalking her. Sensing danger, she made a run for her car, but didn\u2019t make it. Within seconds the man had caught up and made a violent grab for her. Instinct kicked in and she pulled free and started running.<\/div>\n
     Moments later, she ran straight into Byrn Shaw. He was wearing a long, dark coat, and at first she thought she\u2019d run into her attacker.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Shaw!\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Get in the car,\u2019 Shaw told her brusquely.<\/div>\n
     Catherine got into her car quickly and locked the door.<\/div>\n
     Shaw stood guard, searching the shadows for any sign of the man. He caught a glimpse of him disappearing further along the street, an outline in the mist.<\/div>\n
     Catherine opened the car window. \u2018Did you see who he was?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Too dark.\u2019 Shaw moved closer. \u2018It\u2019s not safe for you to be out at night alone, especially when you have enemies.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Enemies?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Powerful people resent you prying into their financial affairs and private lives,\u2019 he said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018That\u2019s my job.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Well try not to be so good at it.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Thanks for your help,\u2019 she said, and started up the car.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019m parked over there. Want me to shadow you home? Make sure you\u2019re safe.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No thanks, I\u2019ve had enough shadows for one night,\u2019 she said, and drove off.<\/div>\n
     Shaw stood alone in the street and watched the tail lights of her car disappear into the fog.<\/div>\n
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Riley was still working at his computer. He glanced out the window into the rainy darkness, seeing only the moving silhouette of the trees outside. Folding a piece of paper listing the names on the killer\u2019s agenda, he switched off his computer, shrugged on his black greatcoat, put the paper in his pocket and headed out into the night. There was one man he trusted who would view the list from a scientist\u2019s perspective.<\/div>\n
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Catherine lived in a townhouse in Edinburgh. She drove up, parked her car and hurried inside. Feeling tired, upset and shaken from being menaced, she took her coat off, went through to the lounge and flicked on the soft lighting. Then she heard a noise, like the sound of her front door closing. She crept cautiously through to the hallway. The door was shut. Nothing was out of sorts. She turned the dead bolt on the lock, and put her edginess down to the events of the night.<\/div>\n
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The Edinburgh street was deserted at 2:30am. Two men, vague figures in the fog, were running along the street, both tall and wearing long dark coats. The chaser caught the first man, grabbed him and forced him against a wall. A fight ensued, very competent fighting, hard and fast punches. One of them had a dagger. The flash of the blade cut through the darkness.<\/div>\n
     The men ran on again, ending up in an alleyway where a brutal fight took place. The blade glinted as a fierce struggle between the two men ended when one man fell to the ground.<\/div>\n
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Riley was having breakfast at his desk and watching the early morning headline news in his study. A reporter was speaking about an incident that had happened the previous night.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Leading politician, Richard Reece, was stabbed to death late last night in the centre of Edinburgh. There were no eyewitnesses to the brutal murder, and police are asking for anyone with information to come forward. In an unusual twist of events, an ancient parchment scroll was found hanging around Reece\u2019s neck, and the dagger which is believed to be the murder weapon, was found lying beside the body.\u2019<\/i><\/div>\n
     Riley\u2019s computer alerted him that two men were approaching his house. He turned the television off and checked their identity on his security monitor. Two police detectives were standing on his doorstep. They rang the bell. The senior of the two was Stanley Valentine. The other was Detective Anthony Ferguson, a few years older than Valentine and never likely to catch him up on the career scale.<\/div>\n
     Riley\u2019s heart sank when he saw who it was. He opened the door, left it open, and went back to his study. It was the nearest they were going to get to an invitation to come in. Valentine and Ferguson followed him into the study.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Are you aware that Richard Reece was murdered last night?\u2019 Valentine asked.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I saw the news,\u2019 Riley said, sitting down at his desk.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I need your help,\u2019 said Valentine.<\/div>\n
     Riley stared at him and did not respond.<\/div>\n
     Valentine elaborated. \u2018We\u2019re investigating Reece\u2019s murder, and I thought you could tell us what\u2019s written on this.\u2019 He brought out a small, parchment scroll sealed in a clear plastic bag from the pocket of his jacket. He held it up for Riley to see.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I thought this would be a case for Edinburgh,\u2019 said Riley, taking little interest in the evidence.<\/div>\n
     \u2018We\u2019re working in tandem on this one,\u2019 said Valentine. \u2018A long story, but we need this mess cleared up.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Anthony Ferguson was eyeing Riley\u2019s tea and buttered toast. Ferguson wasn\u2019t fat, just heavily built, strong arms, big hands, the type who\u2019d be handy in a tug of war. Riley had no gripe with him.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Help yourself,\u2019 Riley said, shoving the plate of toast nearer.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Cheers,\u2019 said Ferguson. He\u2019d only had a pit stop visit to Riley\u2019s house over a year ago. He looked around, impressed by the hundreds of books and artefacts in the study. \u2018You really update all this stuff?\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley nodded.<\/div>\n
     Ferguson munched a piece of toast. \u2018How far back do the records go? That\u2019s what they call you, isn\u2019t it \u2014 the Record Keeper?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Further back than you could imagine. The records are ancient and modern. There\u2019s data on most significant events in history,\u2019 Riley said, referring to the vast amount of information from past and present sources.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Sort of runs in the family, eh? Right back to your grandfather or further than that,\u2019 Ferguson said, genuinely interested. \u2018I studied history in school. Pretty gory stuff. Didn\u2019t have forensics then. It was easier to get away with murder.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley disagreed. \u2018Murder tends to come back and haunt the guilty, whatever the era.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You mean like ghosts of the past?\u2019 Ferguson said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, it\u2019s just that the past often goes full circle. There\u2019s truth in the saying that your past comes back to haunt you, not necessarily a ghost, but events in life repeat themselves.\u2019 Riley gave Valentine a cold, unwelcoming stare.<\/div>\n
     Valentine sighed long and hard. \u2018I know you\u2019re pissed with me, Riley, but can we put that aside?\u2019 He offered the scroll to Riley. \u2018The scroll was hanging around Reece\u2019s neck. Can you decipher what it says? It\u2019s written in Latin or something.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018While I\u2019m working on why I\u2019m on some freak\u2019s computer hit list?\u2019 Riley said accusingly.<\/div>\n
     Valentine didn\u2019t wince. \u2018Here\u2019s the hard drive from Mackenzie\u2019s computer.\u2019 He put it down on the desk.<\/div>\n
     Riley left the hard drive where it was and reluctantly took the scroll. \u2018Fingerprints?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018One set, no match yet,\u2019 Valentine said.<\/div>\n
     Riley studied the scroll under the light of the desk lamp. \u2018The scroll looks ancient but the paper\u2019s not that old. It\u2019s stained to give a faded effect, and the writing is a modern version of traditional lettering and symbols.\u2019 He took a huge portfolio from a desk drawer and compared the symbols.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Any idea what the message is?\u2019 Valentine asked.<\/div>\n
     Riley\u2019s gut wrenched as he read the message. \u2018It\u2019ll take time to decipher this,\u2019 he lied. \u2018I\u2019ll take a copy and get back to you.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Not even a rough idea?\u2019 Valentine prompted him.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Nope.\u2019 He snapped a couple of photographs of the scroll and then handed it back to Valentine.<\/div>\n
     Ferguson helped himself to a third slice of toast.<\/div>\n
     Valentine showed Riley a photograph. \u2018This is a picture of the dagger he was stabbed with.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Have a stab at how old the dagger is,\u2019 Ferguson said.<\/div>\n
     Riley looked at the photograph. \u2018It dates back to 1410.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Are you sure?\u2019 Valentine said.<\/div>\n
     Riley pointed to the ancient markings on the handle. \u2018These markings show the date. Latin numerals \u2014 1410.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine checked a message on his mobile phone. \u2018Right, we need to go. Contact us as soon as possible about the scroll. And bill the department as usual for your time.\u2019<\/div>\n
     The detectives went to leave. Valentine lifted the last piece of toast.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Who\u2019s the woman?\u2019 Riley asked.<\/div>\n
     The detectives paused. Valentine challenged him. \u2018What woman?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018There\u2019s usually a woman somewhere,\u2019 Riley said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Richard Reece was single, but the last woman he spoke to claims she was attacked shortly after speaking to him.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley frowned. \u2018Attacked?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018There was a party at the Scottish Parliament building last night. She says a man followed her to her car, made a grab for her but she ran off. Then another man, Byrn Shaw, scared the attacker away.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley hid his reaction to Shaw\u2019s name. \u2018Does she work for the government?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Yes, she\u2019s an in house investigator.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley looked thoughtful. \u2018Send me some information on her.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Just find out what the scroll says,\u2019 Valentine told him. \u2018The woman\u2019s involvement is likely to be circumstantial, coincidence.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Coincidence is a modern trait, Stanley. There\u2019s no coincidence in history, and as that\u2019s what we\u2019re dealing with, the attack on the woman could be useful.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine hesitated then agreed. \u2018I\u2019ll e\u2013mail you with an update on her.\u2019<\/div>\n
     After they left, Riley studied the message on the scroll. If Valentine knew what it said, there would be hell to pay. Not that he cared about rattling Valentine\u2019s cage. He just preferred to take a route less obvious. The reason he was on the hit list was clearer now. No coincidences in history. And no rest for the wicked.<\/div>\n
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Chapter Two<\/div>\n

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Imagery Intelligence<\/span><\/b> <\/p>\n

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It was a cold but clear night. Riley was climbing the walls, literally. One of the rooms in his house had a climbing wall right round the inside. His father, Alexander, had built it using stones and pottery jugs set in cement. Artefacts that Alexander had gathered on his adventurous trips abroad were wedged into the walls, giving the entire ensemble a rare but rugged appearance. Alexander had added pieces to it over the years. Riley used it for training. He hated gyms. Running on treadmills wasn\u2019t for him. If he wanted to run, he\u2019d go outside, if he wanted to work his muscles, he\u2019d hoist his body weight around the climbing wall \u2014 and then there was the diving pool. His grandfather had built it when he retired from the original SBS after the Second World War. Harry knew how to build anything involving water. Set in the centre of the house, it was deep rather than wide and still had the aquamarine blue tiles he\u2019d used to create it. Riley planned to add something useful to the house someday.<\/div>\n
     He continued to scale the wall, working out, keeping his hand in with his climbing skills. Climbing was good for thinking. And he\u2019d plenty to think about. Byrn Shaw . . . Valentine hadn\u2019t clocked his surprise when he\u2019d heard that name, or perhaps he\u2019d hidden his reaction better than he imagined. Shaw now worked for the government, but Riley remembered him when he was in the SAS, an expert in imagery intelligence. How fast the past was unravelling . . .<\/div>\n
     A green flashing light jolted Riley out of his reminiscing. An intruder alert. No bells, no noise, just a subtle warning that someone uninvited was within the perimeter of his property. Jumping down from the wall, he ran through to the security monitor in his study. Someone was approaching the front door.<\/div>\n
     Whoever it was rang the doorbell.<\/div>\n
     Riley scanned the screen. It was a woman. What was she? A journalist? No. Special Branch? Government? A ruse? Options two and three were his best bet.<\/div>\n
     Wearing his training gear \u2014 vest, training trousers, those of a climber rather than someone who trains in a gym, and dark hair swept back from an unsmiling face, he opened the door. She was warmly dressed in a winter coat with the collar hugging her neck, a classically attractive young woman, well groomed and without a hint of hesitation in her wide hazel eyes. Perhaps he did see her glance at him as if acknowledging he was fit, much taller than her and capable of overpowering her, and if she had, she\u2019d immediately dismissed any fear she could have harboured.<\/div>\n
     \u2018It\u2019s freezing out here,\u2019 she said in a soft, well spoken voice.<\/div>\n
     He stepped aside and she walked in, striding elegantly past him into the hall, then seeing a glow from the study, she headed straight there, leaving Riley to close the door and follow her. He found her looking with undisguised fascination at the books and paraphernalia in his study.<\/div>\n
     \u2018You\u2019re wasting your time,\u2019 he said, ice grey eyes appraising her. \u2018I\u2019m in no mood for visitors, strangers or intruders. And I\u2019m particularly unimpressed by pushy women.\u2019<\/div>\n
     She almost smiled. \u2018Does that line of derogatory charm usually work?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Not so far.\u2019<\/div>\n
     She stepped closer. \u2018I know all about you, Riley. I\u2019ve read your file. I work for the government.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Then you\u2019ll have seen what they wanted you to read. Nobody gets the full story \u2014 not even me.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What do I call you \u2014 Riley or John?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No one calls me John.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Not even your family?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019ve no family left, but you\u2019d know that if you\u2019d read my file.\u2019<\/div>\n
     She stepped back from him and looked around the study. \u2018The SBS are said to be very intelligent, highly skilled, and apparently they can do everything other special forces can do on land \u2014 but they can also do it on water which is tougher.\u2019<\/div>\n
     No response.<\/div>\n
     \u2018You\u2019re not going to tell me about your exploits in the SBS, are you, Riley? You\u2019re a very secretive lot. To be honest, I\u2019d never heard of the SBS until recently.\u2019<\/div>\n
     No reply.<\/div>\n
     Her attention was drawn to several photographs on his desk. The arctic, Amazon jungle and other exotic locations were featured in the frames. \u2018Where is everyone?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I live alone.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, what I mean is, this place is packed with information, books, relics, even photographs of places \u2014 but no people. Not a single face to be seen.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What is it you want?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Nothing. Stanley Valentine was raking through my files \u2014 and you wanted to know about the woman. I thought it would save hours of trawling and skulking around in the bushes if I came to your house.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley was impressed, not that he was going to tell her. Not a hint of admiration for her guile and guts. And he wouldn\u2019t need to ask about her work. An e\u2013mail would be winging its way soon with every juicy detail. Anything Valentine dug up about her would be far more enlightening and colourful than what she\u2019d tell him, even if she had nothing to hide.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019m Catherine. Catherine Warr. And I don\u2019t know anything about Reece\u2019s murder.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What do you know about Byrn Shaw?\u2019<\/div>\n
     She blinked, surprised at his name being thrown at her. \u2018He works in the Parliament offices in Edinburgh.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018A friend of yours?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, but I was glad he was around last night when I got attacked.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018A handy man to have as a guard.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Is he?\u2019 She seemed surprised.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Shaw is ex\u2013forces, but you\u2019d know that if you\u2019d read his file,\u2019 Riley said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019d no idea.\u2019 He saw no flicker of a lie in the depths of her eyes. \u2018Was he SBS?\u2019 she asked.<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, SAS.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Her attractive features lit up with realisation. \u2018Shaw was a balaclava man?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Did you see the man who attacked you? Could you describe him?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018It was foggy and dark and I . . . I was caught off guard . . .\u2019 She seemed angry. \u2018I dropped my keys, I didn\u2019t have them ready. I was fumbling in my bag, doing all the things they warn you not to do.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Who are they<\/i>?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You know \u2014 safety advisors. Women in my line of work, we get advice, but it applies to most women. The usual stuff, don\u2019t go to dark creepy places on your own \u2014\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Why did you?\u2019 Riley\u2019s voice was tinged with accusation.<\/div>\n
     She seemed flustered and ran her hands through her silky, shoulder length hair. \u2018It had been one of those nights. Reece had been . . . he had a way of unnerving me. He\u2019d been up to no good, as always, nothing vile, just diddling extra funds for personal use, abusing the system. But it\u2019s what he said before I left the party. No, not what he said, more the way he said it, as if he knew something.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Knew what?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019d said jokingly, don\u2019t let the bad guys get you, and he\u2019d said in that roguish tone of his, don\u2019t let them get you first. And they nearly did, didn\u2019t they?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018So you were edgy when you left the parliament building?\u2019 Riley said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Yes.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Had you anything to fear from Reece, anything apart from the flack for rapping him over the knuckles for skimming the cream?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, I thought I had Reece\u2019s measure. We were almost friends. I didn\u2019t feel threatened, not until last night. Before that it was just a case of better the devil you know.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Better the devil who doesn\u2019t know you. Someone who knows your strengths and weaknesses can exploit them. It\u2019s a harder fight to get clear of.\u2019<\/div>\n
     She steered the conversation back to Riley. \u2018You\u2019re known as the Record Keeper.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley nodded.<\/div>\n
     She looked at a few of the artefacts in the study including a large, weather beaten book. She flicked through the pages. \u2018You can\u2019t rewrite history even though you\u2019d like to.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley closed the book carefully. \u2018No, but you can update and correct it when new information comes to light. Few things are ever what they appear to be.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019d better go,\u2019 she said suddenly aware of his closeness, and walked out of the study to the front door.<\/div>\n
     He opened the door for her.<\/div>\n
     She breathed in the cold night air. \u2018Maybe I\u2019m getting paranoid, but I thought I heard someone in my house last night. Was it you?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No. If it had been, you wouldn\u2019t have heard me.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Catherine smiled and stepped outside. \u2018I suppose you\u2019ve got me on three different security cameras,\u2019 she remarked flippantly, looking around her for any sign of a lens.<\/div>\n
     He let her walk away towards her car before replying. \u2018Four.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Hmm. Life for you must be a bundle of laughs,\u2019 she said.<\/div>\n
     Riley didn\u2019t say anything. He watched her get into her car and drive off, leaving behind her an impression in his thoughts that was hard not to like.<\/div>\n
      <\/div>\n
Valentine phoned him later. \u2018The cases are linked.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Where\u2019s the e\u2013mail information on Catherine Warr?\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine hesitated. \u2018Who told you her name?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018She did. She turned up at my house to save you and me raking through her files.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What did she tell you?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018She doesn\u2019t know who killed Reece. If she was lying, we should bottle her technique.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine sounded frustrated. \u2018Have you managed to decipher the message on the scroll?\u2019<\/div>\n
     Riley considered his options, and then thought \u2014 what the hell. \u2018It says \u2014 this one is for the Record Keeper.<\/i>\u2019 It was almost worth it to rattle Valentine.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Someone\u2019s playing games with you. We found a copy of the list in Richard Reece\u2019s office. This links the cases.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I never met Reece.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018As I say, someone\u2019s playing games with you.\u2019 Valentine accessed the data on Catherine Warr. \u2018I\u2019m forwarding the e\u2013mail.\u2019 It arrived moments later in Riley\u2019s inbox. Subject heading: The woman. The mail had an attachment. Riley opened it and skimmed the information. Photographs were included.<\/div>\n
     \u2018She\u2019s got an interesting history,\u2019 Riley summarised.<\/div>\n
     \u2018So have you.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Is that an accusation?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Can you explain why you\u2019re mentioned on the scroll and why you\u2019re on the hit list?\u2019 Valentine said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Maybe someone wants to settle an old score.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What score would that be?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Take your pick. As you say, I\u2019ve got an interesting history.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018You\u2019ve got kudos in all the right places, Riley, so no one is going to be breathing down your neck accusing you of being involved in Reece\u2019s murder.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018I can sleep easy then.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018But you know as well as I do that this is going to get messy. I\u2019d prefer we worked on the same side, so I\u2019ll make a deal with you. I\u2019ll try not to be an aggravating bastard on this one, if you\u2019ll be less secretive and share information.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Deal.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Valentine seemed happy with this. \u2018Let me know if you think of anything else.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Run a check on Byrn Shaw. He\u2019s ex\u2013SAS, specialised in imagery intelligence \u2014 images gathered and interpreted from satellite and aerial photography and radar sensors. He\u2019ll be clean, but we\u2019ll need to make sure he doesn\u2019t get used as a pawn.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Consider it done.\u2019<\/div>\n
     After the phone call, Riley studied the information about Catherine. She\u2019d spent several years as an in house investigator with Scottish Government. Hobbies \u2014 astronomy and space. Riley frowned, and then phoned her home in Edinburgh.<\/div>\n
     \u2018It\u2019s Riley. Question for you.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018How did you get my private number?\u2019 she said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018You saw the maps on the wall of my study?\u2019 he continued.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Yes.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What else did you see?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Ah, you\u2019ve read my file,\u2019 she said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Hobbies \u2014 astronomy and space\u2019.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Your constellation charts. You\u2019re wondering why I didn\u2019t gasp in awe or at the very least show my knowledge of them.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Why didn\u2019t you?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Is that the question?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Yes,\u2019 he said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Because your charts are incomplete and outdated.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Fair enough. Could you recommend improving them?\u2019 he said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018I\u2019d recommend you update them. Other planets have been discovered recently, planets have been relegated, and some of the constellation information is out of date. If you\u2019re the Record Keeper, you need to keep up with what\u2019s happening in space, the future, not just the past.\u2019<\/div>\n
     He took the criticism on the chin. \u2018Will do. Point taken.\u2019 He hesitated and then said, \u2018Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Are you asking me for a date?\u2019 There was a hint of a smile in her tone.<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, I\u2019m offering you a meal and maybe we can talk about the charts. Have you ever seen the night sky through one of the best private telescopes in the country?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Can\u2019t say I have.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Then you\u2019re in for a treat. Meet me tomorrow night at my house. Seven o\u2019clock. We\u2019ll walk from there.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Walk to where?\u2019 she asked.<\/div>\n
     \u2018The best view in the city.\u2019<\/div>\n
Riley was hoovering the diving pool. He\u2019d flicked a switch on the automatic pool cleaner that looked like a mechanical beetle and worked its way around the blue tiles ridding them of mildew and keeping them glistening.<\/div>\n
     Lit by spotlights, the water reminded him of the sea in the tropics \u2014 this was his little bit of paradise in Glasgow. More importantly, it kept his underwater swimming techniques strong and sharp. He never wanted to loose those abilities. Harry had proved you didn\u2019t have to. Age had failed to wither his late grandfather. Harry had been one of those men who\u2019d kept whipcord lean well into his twilight years, never giving age a chance to diminish his physique. Riley aimed to be like that. In contrast, Harry used to joke that Riley\u2019s father, Alexander, was the suave and sophisticated palaeographer, travelling to far off lands like a classic adventurer. Even in the remotest of areas, Alexander managed to have a cup of tea with two sugars \u2014 and a digestive biscuit. Harry was more inclined to eat what he could kill, cook or get his hands on. Riley was nearer the latter, though living in civvy street he\u2019d not had to nut roast a squirrel in a long time. He got his groceries delivered via the Internet, and like many ex\u2013forces men, he kept his house clean and tidy.<\/div>\n
     Looking at the water in the pool helped him think. Why was his name on the list he found on Mackenzie\u2019s computer data? And what about Mackenzie? Stabbed to death beside his computer. A computer that wasn\u2019t registered to anyone, and that insisted no one of that name existed. Mackenzie had a dubious background as a forger but it didn\u2019t mean that even his computer could disown him. Then there was Richard Reece. The media were still reeling from his demise. Who would use an antique dagger as a murder weapon these days? And who would be stupid enough to leave it at the scene of the crime?<\/div>\n
     Riley\u2019s mobile phone rang. It was Mul McAra.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Are you busy?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Just hoovering,\u2019 Riley said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018Right, I\u2019ll be over in a jiffy.\u2019<\/div>\n
     Mul McAra lived a ten minute drive away from Riley. McAra could run it in seven, six if it was snowing. Friends since they were wee boys, McAra was the grandson of Harry\u2019s best friend who had served with Harry during the SBS training on the Scottish Isle of Arran in the 1940s. Mul McAra hadn\u2019t ventured into the forces. Science was his game, rocket science to be precise. As a rocket scientist in Scotland, McAra did very well for himself and was known as one of the leading space scientists in his line of expertise \u2014 astrobiology and space robotics. When he wasn\u2019t peering bleary eyed through a telescope at the solar system, McAra liked to run. At thirty\u2013five, he had a lot of running years left in him. Riley imagined he\u2019d still be pounding the highlands when he was in his seventies. Riley had given him a copy of the names on the computer list to see what McAra made of them. One of the names was familiar to Riley, something to do with science, and he hoped McAra would know.<\/div>\n
     By the time the kettle had boiled and Riley had made a mug of tea for both of them, McAra was at the door.<\/div>\n
     \u2018The list\u2019s a corker!\u2019 he said, hardly out of breath from the sprint. His gingery hair stuck up in wild peaks, not from the speed of running, just a natural quirk of fate. He slugged a mouthful of sweet tea. \u2018The names belong to scientists. Two of them are already toes up in the bone yard. Copped it years ago. I haven\u2019t checked the other four. Maybe you or Valentine can do that, but I\u2019ve a sneaky feeling it\u2019s a dead man\u2019s list.\u2019<\/div>\n
     McAra was grinning as if this was good news. Riley wasn\u2019t convinced. \u2018If I\u2019m the last man breathing on the list, you know what that means.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Not an inkling.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018It means it\u2019s a hunter\u2019s game the bastard\u2019s playing,\u2019 said Riley, \u2018and I\u2019m going to have to go after him before he comes after me.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Ah, not so good, eh? Still, I wouldn\u2019t like to be them.\u2019 <\/div>\n
     Riley sat down at his computer and checked the remaining four names on the list. The computer began the search. McAra read the outcome. \u2018All dead.\u2019 He sucked the air through the gap in his front teeth. \u2018What\u2019s your plan?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018What are you doing tomorrow night?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Apparently I\u2019m up for a science award in Glasgow,\u2019 said McAra, sounding vaguely disinterested.<\/div>\n
     Riley took a swig of his tea. \u2018Is it a trophy, a medal?\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Ach, I wasn\u2019t listening properly,\u2019 McAra said. \u2018I\u2019m not into all that. I wish they\u2019d just let me get on with my work. I\u2019ll phone them up and ask them to post the award to me.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018No, you go to your party. I need to borrow your house for the evening. I\u2019ve invited a woman, Catherine Warr, to have dinner with me.\u2019 Riley rarely referred to McAra having a house. It was more like an observatory with a bed and kitchen, telescopes and a glass domed roof. McAra had converted the substantial size house over the years into a high tech observatory that he just happened to live in.<\/div>\n
     \u2018There\u2019s nothing to eat in the house. I haven\u2019t done my grocery shopping,\u2019 McAra said.<\/div>\n
     \u2018No problem. I\u2019ll sort out the food.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018She must be gorgeous,\u2019 McAra remarked.<\/div>\n
     \u2018That\u2019s got nothing to do with it. She\u2019s part of the investigation.\u2019<\/div>\n
     \u2018Well, for the sake of the investigation, I wouldn\u2019t cook if I were you. When it comes to rustling up a survival dinner in the wilds of nowhere you\u2019re an absolute gourmet, but take my advice and order something in.\u2019<\/div>\n
      <\/div>\n
      <\/div>\n
      <\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  By Strength and Guile is the motto of the Special Boat Service (SBS). The SBS is a highly secretive British Special Forces unit. Comparable to the SAS, they are the Royal Navy\u2019s elite, although nowadays men are selected from various UK military services, not just the Royal Marines.      The SBS are specialists on both … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":11,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-75","page","type-page","status-publish"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=75"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":324,"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/75\/revisions\/324"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/11"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.de-annblack.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=75"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}