‘Okay, that means they have left him to die, or he has them on another mission. Perhaps they are heading back to Givet for help,’ Gibbs said.
‘We are pretty sure they have clocked us, sir, although they have shown no sign of ambushing us,’ he said.
‘If they have seen you, they must have another plan in the making. Mark the GPS coordinates of where they have holed up, and head back to Givet. It is Captain’s Schmidt’s problem now. You’ll be collected at the main gate of the Chooz plant. We have our orders for a new mission.’
Chapter 38
A forest near Givet, France - 2028
Chilemba was trying to take his first unaided steps across the quiet campsite, grimacing with each step, when he heard a high-pitched whistle from outside the forest. He limped across the uneven ground of the camp and grabbed a Glock pistol off a Bergen. Three men walked towards him amongst the oak trees, carrying big green canvas bags and army boxes, and to Chilemba’s surprise, they were accompanied by their former boss, René Chabal.
‘Mr Chabal?’ Chilemba said.
‘Please, Chilemba. Call me René. Like you, I am no longer in the employment of my friend, the late Christophe Magne.’
‘Come and sit, René,’ Chilemba said, directing him to a large log that had been dragged in and placed by the fire.
‘I have also been wounded, although not as badly as you have. I seem to be deaf in one ear and have a few stitches in my neck from an explosion at the mansion.
‘Christophe was so incensed that Alain had been shot and that woman Deputy Minister had been rescued, that he followed the GGC men blindly down into the tunnels below the chateau. Naturally, I followed him and the last thing I remember, was flying backwards through the air after my friend triggered an explosive device, set by those bastards,’ René said.
‘So, we have both lost a very good friend to these men?’
‘That we have, Chilemba,’ René said. ‘After I recovered from the blast, I went back upstairs and dragged Alain’s body all the way down to the tunnel. I quickly swapped clothes and burned both their bodies to hide their true identity,’ René continued.
‘Why go to all that trouble?’ Chilemba asked.
‘Have you heard about the resistance movement against the GGC?’
Chilemba nodded. ‘I have heard the rumours that there are people around Givet who were against the GGC and so had decided to join this resistance.’
‘I joined over six months ago and was asked by our leader to monitor Christophe and the incoming GGC forces,’ René said.
‘You betrayed your best friend?’ Chilemba asked.
René shook his head. ‘I’m sure that Christophe knew that I worked for them, but preferred to let me get on with it, without interference. I had hoped to get him to join us but he wouldn’t, so I got on with my work of feeding back information on the movements of the GGC and their Guard units. Sadly, the resistance was unable to mobilise any soldiers to help us at the time the GGC took over the plant.’
‘Many good men died at the hands of these GGC dogs,’ Chilemba said and spat on the ground.
‘I know. So, what are your plans now?’
‘We have decided to stay together and to keep travelling in France for the time being. At least until my wound has healed,’ he replied, looking down at his leg.
‘Why don’t you join the resistance and help stop the GGC in its campaign to control all the countries in Europe and what’s left of the world? We could always use experienced soldiers like you to help sabotage their missions,’ René said. ‘You’d be paid very little but will get food and shelter.
Chilemba sat back and mulled over the proposal. He looked around at his men as they packed and chatted amongst themselves.
‘It’s a possibility, but first I want to track down and kill this Captain Gibbs who is responsible for the murder of Jackson. I have sworn to avenge his death, and these men have agreed to help me do so. Only then, will we consider joining your resistance,’ Chilemba said.
‘I happen to know where your captain is heading this very day,’ René said.
Chilemba raised his eyebrows and leant forward. ‘Where is the filthy hyena?’
‘They are all in trucks on their way to Paris to catch planes out of France,’ René said.
‘Then we have no time to waste,’ Chilemba said.
‘Wait just a minute, Chilemba. You’ll never cut them off in time, besides, I’ve been in contact with Vargen, the leader of the resistance. He is aware of their movements and most importantly, has all the details of their new mission.’
‘This man knows a lot about these missions?’
‘We have people inside the GGC. Gibbs is to Paris to catch planes to Poland. The capital, Warsaw, as it seems that a research team from the Warsaw University has valuable documents in their possession, and the GGC is sending the Phoenix Guard unit to escort the research team with these documents back to London,’ René said.
‘What other details does this Vargen have?’
‘It seems that that the GGC is not only keen to get their hands on these documents, but they are insistent that no one else sees them, hence the urgency to get Gibbs over there. Vargen wants me to join up with the Polish resistance in Warsaw and intercept them as they leave the city,’ René said.
‘You will get your hands on the documents, and I get my revenge on this murderous bastard?’
René nodded his head slowly, a grin appearing.
Chapter 39
South of Givet, France - 2028.
The truck hit another pothole, throwing everyone sitting in the back against the metal sides of the truck. The once pristine tarred road had conveyed vehicles of all manner of makes and models, for business and pleasure, for salesmen and families all sharing the stretch of tarmac. Now it was a maze of holes and dust with only the occasional ox or horse cart visible.
Gibbs drove the lead truck, his Sig226 pistol lying on the seat next to him. He’d hoped to wash and change before the long trip, but Christina, who sat next to him, had wanted to get on the road dark. ‘How long will this trip take, Gibbs?’ Christina asked.
‘It would normally take about three hours, but at this pace and with the conditions of the road, I imagine we are looking at five to six,’ he said glancing across at her dressed in her battle fatigues. She had slumped down into the seat and had her boots up on the dashboard. It reminded him that she was still only a young woman in her mid-twenties. He turned around and closed the small truck window between them and the back of the truck to a chorus of wolf whistles. He raised a middle finger in reply.
The green farmlands sped past as they found a better patch of road. Countless men, women and children were working on the communal farms trying to make a living trading vegetables, wheat and livestock. They stood up as the noisy truck passed. Looking like scarecrows, they were dressed in rags and mismatched clothing, staring impassively at the occupants in the front seat.
‘Do you think all the effort back there was worth it?’ Gibbs asked.
‘I do, but I think the benefits will only be revealed further down the line.’
‘What benefits? The GGC now controls the major producer of electricity in the north of France. How does that benefit, for example, that man over there?’ Gibbs said, pointing to a grey-bearded old man working in the field. He was stooped over green cabbages, slicing at the base of the vegetables before placing them in a hessian sack hanging from his back.
‘Sooner or later many of these people will have to move to the city of Givet if they want to trade their goods or get jobs that pay money, and not chickens,’ she said.
‘That’s the mass migration you keep talking about. All the world’s remaining population congregating in a few megacities, bringing disease, hate, poverty and God knows what else. And to make it all worse, being squashed into a couple of square miles?’
‘That about sums it up. What would you have happen, Gibbs? That they were all left here to starve to death? It’s our duty
to provide for our fellow man as best we can, and I believe that the GGC is trying to do that. Look, for example, at the two African men we saw in the mayor’s office. They were obviously far away from home and probably arrived as slave labour into one of the many European ports. How bad must it be in Africa that they left their families, to endure who knows what type of journey, to get here and have a better life?’
‘Okay, I get your point. I don’t share the same belief in the GGC’s motives as you do, that’s all. Especially considering what we discussed about Lord Butler. I can see the benefit of a global government, which looks after people as a whole. I happen to think that the Grand Founders are in it for one reason only, power.’
‘What do you intend to do then?’
‘I’ll find the fuck who set us up for multiple murders. We’re soldiers who kill for a living, not murderers who scheme and kill in cold blood. I don’t care if it is Lord Butler or Kohler, or anyone else for that matter. Once I get a confession out of them by whatever means necessary, I’ll leave the Phoenix Guard for a quieter life somewhere.’
‘A quieter life? This I have to see,’ she said, smiling.
‘Don’t mock the idea. I want a more peaceful life, and I certainly don’t want to live in one of those megacities that you keep talking about. Maybe I’ll get a piece of land and live off it for the rest of my days,’ he said.
Christina burst out laughing. ‘Sorry, Gibbs. Just the thought of you, on a farm waging war on bugs and worms, makes me chuckle.’
‘It’s about me having a more peaceful life, that’s all,’ he said, focusing on the road.
She sidled up to him and held onto his arm, putting her head on his strong shoulder. ‘I guess living in the countryside would be a little more peaceful, wouldn’t it,’ she said.
Gibbs looked down at the top of her head, smiling. ‘Do you think we’ve seen the end of the resistance leader?’
Christina sat up. ‘I guess we’ll never know whether it was Christophe or not.’
‘Or René?’
‘René? Why René?’
‘Well, I killed Alain outside the room they held you in, and he wasn’t carrying a gun. René was carrying a pistol in a holster on his hip. When Shredder and I did a sweep of the mansion, Alain’s body was gone, and when we looked at Christophe’s and René’s bodies in the tunnel, there was no pistol to be found on the body or anywhere in the vicinity.’
‘Aren’t we the resident Sherlock Holmes all of a sudden? Although I suppose it’s plausible. Lord Butler suspected it was someone who was in Givet.’
Gibbs laughed. ‘Being a super-sleuth is part of my job. I guess if we find René again, we know who Vargen is, don’t we, because if he did switch the bodies, it certainly would be to cover something up.’
• • •
After two hours, they made it on to the old A1 motorway south and sat in silence as they drove. This road was in a better condition, and Gibbs sped up to try and make up for lost time. Other than the abandoned vehicles that lay rusting on the verge of the motorway, they saw no other vehicles.
They followed the fading Charles de Gaulle signposts until they arrived at the airport’s main gate. Heavily armed and uniformed men guarded the large white metal gates leading to what was obviously a GGC controlled airport. The guard came up to the side of the truck, and Gibbs handed down his and Christina’s GGC IDs. After checking the truck and the men in the rear, the sergeant at arms called in their arrival on his radio and he was told to let them in.
They were escorted to the main terminal building where they disembarked and went through to the main GGC operations room. Gibbs left his men to wait outside while he and Christina met up with the officer commanding the GGC operations in Paris.
‘Deputy Minister, it is a pleasure to have someone of your stature visiting us. We only just received the orders to help you a day ago, so, I’m afraid we haven’t had much time to lay on a welcome party at all,’ Colonel Bellingham said, standing with his feet apart and his thumbs stuck into the front of his belt. His red felt beret was rolled up and tucked under one of his red epaulettes of the GGC khaki shirt.
‘That is fine, Colonel. I don’t expect us to be here very long,’ she said.
‘Of course, Deputy Minister. I have two DC-3s on standby, and ready to roll on your order. The one will get you back to London. Captain, the other is scheduled to take you and your team to Poland.’
‘Thank you, Colonel, we appreciate your help. Can we arrange for a take-off time of seven o’clock tomorrow morning?’ she asked.
‘As you wish, Deputy Minister,’ he said. ‘Captain, you can take your men to Hanger Eleven, which serves as our quartermaster’s stores, and get your team’s kit checked and replenished. Sergeant Major Macleod will be helping you.’
‘Thank you, Colonel. Is that Sergeant Major Bill Macleod?’ Gibbs asked.
‘It is indeed, do you know him?’
‘I served with the old rat in Iran. He helped my team and I on many occasions,’ Gibbs said.
After they finished the formalities and were on their way to the accommodation, Christina turned to Gibbs. ‘Don’t go getting any ideas about spending the night in a bottle with your sergeant major buddy. You are taking me to dinner in Paris. It’s our last night together, and I am not spending it alone in my room.’
Gibbs saluted her, wincing as she punched his arm.
Later that evening, after Gibbs and Macleod had had a quick reminisce over old times, he managed to get his hands on an old green old army motorbike. In the crispness of evening, he and Christina made their way to a small restaurant in Paris.
It was a wonderful trip to the town centre, through abandoned streets, where they found the old restaurant on Rue du Toit. They parked up outside the restaurant and were welcomed by a young man in black pants, white shirt and a black waistcoat. Waving a thick wooden stick at nearby beggars, he escorted the two diners inside.
It was a dimly lit old place in the basement of a residence, owned by the cousin of the Colonel’s, so it had many military diners. People who worked for the GGC were the only ones who could still afford to go out for dinner. Seating about sixty people, the waiters hurried around making everyone comfortable, with the hostess, a large woman in a black dress and grim expression, barking commands.
The evening passed by quickly as Gibbs and Christina chatted and sipped their wine. ‘I must admit that I’m less and less inclined to believe that the Grand Founders have goodwill as their major motivation for what they are doing,’ Christina said, staring into her glass.
‘What changed your mind?’
‘It’s no single thing, really, just a lot of small conversations and actions that have gnawed at me. And right now, instinct tells me that something isn’t right.’
‘Do you think you have the power to change anything?’
‘I intend to speak to one or two of the other Grand Founders and maybe a few other lower level ministers to gauge the general mood.’
‘Please just be careful, Christina. I know only too well what can happen when you question or investigate men of this nature.’
‘I’ll be careful,’ she said. ‘You be careful too, although I am glad that you at least have Killey and Shredder to watch over you in Poland.’
‘Oh, and I need looking after, do I?’
‘Yes, you do. Killey told me that even though you have a tough exterior, you are just a big softy inside.’
‘He said that did, he? Considering he’s soft in the bloody head I’d take everything he says with a pinch of salt.’
Christina laughed. ‘He seems to care for you.’
‘We have been fighting side by side for a long time now. Strong bonds form in tough times,’ Gibbs said.
‘True, but watch yourselves anyway. I hear that the resistance is quite fierce in Poland, and you do represent the GGC, regardless of what you think about them,’ she said.
Gibbs nodded and reached across the table to squeeze her hand.
After the second bottle of wine, Gibbs excused himself from the table to go to the washrooms. The smell of garlic filled the busy kitchen which he had to weave through to go out the metal door at the back of the building. He was standing in front of the algae-covered enamel urinal when he heard a noise from outside the small washroom window. A strange rustling sound.
‘Captain?’ a voice said in a near whisper, startling him. ‘Can you hear me?’
Gibbs finished up and moved along the wall to the small window above the washbasin and dirty mirror. ‘Yes, I can. Who is this?’
‘Never mind who I am. I have an urgent message for you from Vargen.’
‘What’s the message?’ Gibbs asked, trying to identify the accent of the man. Spanish or Portuguese maybe
‘He’s requested that you meet with him at three a.m. to discuss a critical matter. Do you agree to meet?’
‘Not unless you tell what is so urgent. Why I should bother trusting you or Vargen.’
‘It’s a matter of life and death, Captain, involving Deputy Minister Anderson.’
Gibbs thought about it for a few seconds. The man knew who they were and that they worked for the GGC. He stood on his toes and tried to look out into the blackness of the narrow alleyway behind the bathroom. The small window prevented him from climbing through, and there was no way he could get a glance at the man from the tight angle.
‘Where am I supposed to meet Vargen?’ Gibbs asked.
‘Exit the airport you are staying at and turn right. Continue down the main road for two miles then turn left onto a dirt road. There is an old white barrel at that turn-off, you cannot miss it. Follow that dust road for about three hundred yards, and you will see an old house. He will be there. Also, Captain, please come alone, you will be watched from the moment you leave the base, and if you are not alone, we will simply disappear, and Miss Anderson and will be left to her own fate.’
‘Will you be there?’
‘Three a.m. Be on time,’ the mysterious man said.
‘Hey, mate, what do you mean, be left to her fate?’ Gibbs asked.
The Journey of Kyle Gibbs Box Set Page 46
