Free Dragged into Darkness by Simon Wood

no evidence to say an amputation took place.  It’s as if the limbs were grown that way.”
    “This doesn’t get any better,” Harker concluded.
    “Are there any other tests you can do to shed some light?” Mack asked.
    “I want to do some more blood work.  I wasn’t happy with it last time.  And, I can double check myself.  This has been a rush job.”
    “Okay, you do that,” Harker said.
    Harker nodded to Mack and they left a confused Kempton to his work.  He escorted Mack out of the morgue and into the corridor.  Harker leaned against the wall.
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    “Has Kempton been drinking the formaldehyde?”
    Harker wasn’t amused.  “Jack received a hand this afternoon.  It’s on its way down now.”
    Mack sighed and slumped against the wall opposite Harker .  He wasn’t surprised.  “The right one?”
    “Yes,” Harker replied.  “Have you received anything other than the hand and foot?”
    Mack shook his head.  “I’ve been expecting something other than the packages.  Has Jack?”
    “No.”
    “I don’t get it.  They’ve got our attention, so why hasn’t someone made contact?”
    “Don’t know.  But the interesting question is who is someone ?  Communist hardliners?   KGB?”
    “I thought they didn’t exist anymore.”
    Harker snorted and raised an eyebrow.
    Mack smirked.  “Sorry.”
    “They’ve chosen to pick on the old guys and not MI6 directly, why?  What’s so special about you and Jack?”
    “I did think of something that Jack and I do have in common.  We were both spy masters.”
    “That’s right.  You were East Germany.  Jack was Moscow.”
    “And…” Mack prompted. 
    Harker shrugged.
    “Think.”
    The penny dropped.  “Yes, of course.  Jerry Manning was Czecho .  Dieter Ensman was Yugoslavia.  And Marcus Gale was Hungary.  You five controlled our interests behind the Iron Curtain.”
    “Have you heard anything from the other three?”
    “Cancer got Dieter three years ago.  The bugger could never stop smoking.  But not a thing from Jerry or Marcus.”
    “Worth checking out then?”
    “Yes, I’ll get you their addresses and you can let me know.”
    “Me!  Why, me?”
    “Call it payback for scaring the shit out of my courier.”
    ***
    Mack tried the numbers Harker gave him with no success.  Neither man answered his phone.  He didn’t want to risk leaving a message, so that meant a road trip.  The Beretta came too.
    He hit the roads before first post, missing an encounter with another package.  He wasn’t heartbroken about it.  It wasn’t like the contents would be a surprise.  It would be a body part—he just didn’t know which one.  The surprise could wait. 
    Mack picked Jerry Manning to see first.  He was closest.  Bournemouth was only two hours away, whereas Marcus Gale was somewhere in the depths of Cheshire.
    Mack reached the seaside town before midday.  He never fancied life in one of England’s designated retirement towns.  He thought of it as surrender.  Living there was saying he had written himself off and that he was finished with life.  Although he had bitched at Harker for making him do MI6’s legwork, he was pleased to be doing something constructive with his life again.
    Thinking of Jerry, he chuckled.  He imagined him in a bingo hall with a bunch of blue rinses, ex-bank managers and retired schoolteachers.  After spending twenty years of subverting communist plots, he couldn’t imagine one of Britain’s best espionage agents excitedly screaming “House!”  All Mack knew—it wasn’t for him.
    Mack found Jerry’s house off the coast road, overlooking the Solent .   On a clear day, the Isle of Wight would have been visible.  But today, grey sea met grey sky and cruel waves clawed at the beach.   It wasn’t pretty but was no less dramatic than blue skies and sunshine. 
    Walking up to Jerry’s door, Mack frowned.  Four milk bottles and two packages sat on the