by Chris Ryan
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
SPECIAL FORCES CADETS
Copyright
Chapter 1: Blue Command
Chapter 2: Death Squad
Chapter 3: Guzman and the Jackal
Chapter 4: Bullet Hole
Chapter 5: Pepe’s Plan
Chapter 6: Simple
Chapter 7: Turf War
Chapter 8: New Best Friend
Chapter 9: Pepe’s Predicament
Chapter 10: Lili’s Lie
Chapter 11: Leapfrog
Chapter 12: Spray and Pray
Chapter 13: Seven Minutes, Thirty-Five Seconds
Chapter 14: Impact
Chapter 15: Pepe’s Penalty
Chapter 16: Snakes and Ladders
Chapter 17: A Leap of Faith
Chapter 18: Murder Hole
Chapter 19: Exit Wound
Chapter 20: Escola
Epilogue
Chris Ryan
Copyright
SPECIAL FORCES CADETS
Siege Missing Justice
Ruthless
Look out for
Hijack
Assassin
1
Blue Command
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. 1700 hours.
‘What the hell are these kids doing here?’
Silence.
‘Do you think I’m an idiot?’
Silence.
‘I thought you were bringing me the SAS. Is this some kind of joke?’
Max Johnson knew that Sir Alistair Sinclair, the British ambassador to Brazil, was an experienced diplomat. Before his posting to South America, he had represented Her Majesty’s Government in India, Switzerland and Gabon. Max had watched a YouTube video of Sir Alistair giving a speech to the United Nations. He came across as charming, well-spoken and tactful.
But right now his diplomatic skills were not on display. His brow was furrowed, his eyes flinty. He looked at the five teenagers standing in front of him with undisguised contempt. ‘My son is missing, and you’re wasting my time with a bunch of children?’
He had a point, Max thought. If Sir Alistair had been expecting the SAS, in full black gear with masks and weapons and body armour, it would be an unpleasant surprise to be presented with five scruffy teenagers in jeans, T-shirts and trainers.
But the ambassador had clearly never heard of the Special Forces Cadets. Which meant he had no idea just how capable they were.
Max glanced along the line. Next to him was Sami, a slight Syrian boy with short black hair, brown eyes and dark skin. He wore his usual earnest expression, as though he was genuinely trying to understand the ambassador’s point of view.
Beside Sami was Abby: pale skin, blue eyes, thick, shiny, dishevelled brown hair and double cartilage piercing in her left ear. Abby was never more than a breath away from a sarcastic comment in her pronounced Northern Irish accent. She looked like she was trying very hard to stop herself remarking upon the ambassador’s behaviour. Max could see her lips twitching.
Lili was next to her. Chinese, with long, straight, dark hair and a cold expression, Lili was the most intelligent person Max had ever met. She had a photographic memory and a remarkable facility for learning languages. In the past two months she had picked up Spanish and Portuguese to go alongside her Russian, English, Arabic and native Mandarin. She stared at the ambassador, one eyebrow raised.
Which was more than could be said for Lukas, who stood to her right. Lukas was a black kid from the rough end of Los Angeles. When he thought someone was being foolish, he would say so. His lip was curled. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘A bunch of children. Maybe we should leave you to it. You’re an adult, after all. You could be in and out, no questions –’
‘Hush, Lukas,’ said one of the other adults in the room. Her name was Angel. She had fiery red hair tied in a tight ponytail. She stood with Woody, who had sandy hair, a ruddy face and laughter lines bracketing his mouth.
If the third adult had any laughter lines – and that was distinctly unlikely – nobody had seen them for years. Hector had a full greying black beard, dark eyes and a stormy face. He, Woody and Angel were known as the Watchers to the cadets. But at the moment they weren’t watching their charges. They were watching the ambassador, who seemed outraged by Lukas’s comment.
‘How dare you talk to me like that, young man?’ the ambassador said. ‘Don’t you know who I am?’
Abby held up one finger. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘I think I know this one.’
There was a pause as everyone turned to look at her.
‘Room service?’
‘Abby!’ Hector barked. Abby looked down. Hector stepped towards the ambassador. ‘Sit down,’ he said.
They were in a suite on the thirty-fifth floor of the Hilton Hotel in Rio de Janeiro, but they could have been anywhere. The curtains were closed. The door was locked from the inside. The air conditioning meant it was neither hot nor cold. There were two sofas, a desk and a chair, and doors leading to the bedroom and bathroom. The ambassador sat on one of the sofas and immediately appeared to regret doing so. Hector towered over him. The ambassador stood up again, brushing the lapels of his suit jacket. He opened his mouth as if about to deliver another criticism, but closed it again after a glance at Hector. He seemed to sense that the balance of power had changed. Max almost felt sorry for the man. He too had been on the receiving end of Hector’s ferocity and he knew it wasn’t a comfortable place to be.
Of course, the ambassador had his own reasons for being panicked and upset. That was why the cadets had been airlifted from their base, Valley House in the wilds of Scotland, and transported by plane to Rio.
‘My son is missing,’ the ambassador said to Hector, his voice plaintive. ‘You have to find him.’
‘We’ve been briefed,’ Hector said. ‘But I want to hear it direct from you. Please, sit down.’
To encourage him, Hector sat on the sofa. The ambassador joined him. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again. ‘My son’s name is Tommy. He’s fifteen.’ He frowned. ‘Since his mother died he’s been … there’s really no other way to put it. He’s been a problem child.’
‘What do you mean? What kind of problems?’
‘I just can’t get through to him,’ the ambassador said. ‘He won’t talk to me, he’s not interested in his school work …’
‘Sounds like me on a good day,’ Abby muttered.
The ambassador didn’t seem to hear her. ‘The embassy is in Brasilia, the capital,’ he said. ‘But I had to come to Rio a week ago to meet a UK trade delegation. Tommy didn’t want to join me. He sulked all the way here, headphones on, staring at his phone …’
‘Sounds pretty normal –’ Abby started to say.
‘Will you give it a rest, Abby?’ Angel chided. ‘The man’s son is missing.’ Her words seemed to have more effect than Hector’s. Abby looked embarrassed.
‘We checked into the hotel and he didn’t leave his room for two days. Then, four nights ago …’ The ambassador clicked his fingers. ‘He vanished. Nobody saw what happened to him. My security people have examined the hotel’s CCTV footage and there’s no sign of him leaving.’
‘Easily done,’ Angel said, ‘if you spend a little time checking where the cameras are.’
The ambassador frowned at Angel’s interruption. ‘He’s been missing ever since.’ He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Twenty-four hours ago, the Rio authorities told my embassy that he is being held in the Complexo do Alemão favela – and his captors know who he is. We expect a ransom demand, which the UK authorities will refuse to pay on principle.’
Hector turned to the cadets. ‘We don’t expect the ransom demand to come in for a few days. They’ll want to
have time to make it look like Tommy is in a bad state before they send it. We got the call twenty hours ago, as soon as it became clear that Tommy was in the favela. You know what the favelas are, right?’
‘Slums?’ Max said. He felt alert. They had used the flight to Rio to sleep and avoid jetlag, so this was the first briefing they’d been given. It was important to take in every last detail.
Hector nodded. ‘They’re built on the hillsides on the outskirts of Rio. Huge, sprawling areas, very poor. The houses are constructed on top of each other – literally, sometimes. The well-to-do parts of Rio you’ve seen so far? The beach and the palm trees and the skyscrapers?’ He shook his head. ‘Nothing like the favelas. Some of them are less dangerous than others, but some are real no-go areas.’
‘Let me guess,’ Abby said. ‘The favela where we think Tommy is, that’s a nice quiet one, right?’
‘It’s the worst,’ Hector said. ‘Even the regular Rio police don’t venture into Alemão.’
‘Why not?’ Sami asked, looking perplexed.
‘Because it’s more than their lives are worth. The favela is riddled with gangs. The dominant gang call themselves Blue Command.’ As he spoke, Hector glanced at Lukas, who looked at the floor. Lukas came from a gang background, which he felt embarrassed – even ashamed – of. Hector moved on. ‘Blue Command import drugs from the Mexican cartels. They distribute these drugs around the favela. But that’s not the only way they make their money. They run what we’d call in the UK protection rackets. That’s when they take money from locals in return for providing protection from other gangs. But if the locals don’t pay up, they get attacked by Blue Command.’
‘Nice,’ Lili said.
‘You haven’t heard the worst of it,’ Angel said. ‘Blue Command also run a people-trafficking business. They abduct favelados – people who live in the favelas – and sell them on to rich families in rural parts of South America.’
‘Like slaves?’ Sami asked, his expression hard.
‘Like slaves,’ Angel said.
There was a long silence. The ambassador broke it. ‘Damn it, I thought you were sending in the SAS! I asked for the bloody SAS.’
Hector continued talking as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s a tough life, being a gang member in Blue Command. Kids are recruited early. At the age of eight – younger, sometimes. And their life expectancy is short. Gun crime, drugs … Once you’re in the gang, your chances of making it past the age of twenty are slim. Blue Command is run by adult gang members, but the foot soldiers, lookouts, mules and gunmen – they’re all teenagers and younger.’ He turned to the ambassador. ‘We can’t send adults in to penetrate Blue Command’s stronghold,’ he said. ‘The gang’s commanders have several defensive cordons around them. Unfamiliar adults will stick out a mile. But this lot?’ He pointed at the cadets. ‘Nobody will pay them any attention. We don’t know where Blue Command are keeping your son. This team will have a better opportunity to get closer to him in a day than adult forces would manage in a week.’
The ambassador blinked at him. ‘You’re insane,’ he said. ‘Your team? They should be revising for their GCSEs, not …’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. Will somebody get me Number Ten on the phone?’
There was another long silence. ‘All right then, everyone,’ Abby said at last. ‘You heard the fella. Let’s go.’
‘Wait … what?’ the ambassador stuttered.
‘We’ll be off,’ said Max. He understood what Abby was doing. ‘Like you said, we have GCSEs to revise for, and Abby’s physics really stinks.’
‘He’s not wrong,’ Abby said. ‘I guess I’ve been spending too much time practising HALO jumps from 25,000 feet.’
‘And weapons training,’ Sami added with a half-smile. ‘You’ll never pass physics if you waste your time spending three hours a day on the firing range.’
‘True,’ Abby said with a rueful nod. ‘And I wouldn’t want to be going up against these Blue Command kids without a solid understanding of Boyle’s law. So come on, we’d better get moving.’ The cadets headed towards the door. ‘What the hell is Boyle’s law, by the way?’ Abby muttered.
‘Wait,’ the ambassador snapped. He looked at Hector. ‘HALO jumps?’ he said in a hushed voice. ‘Weapons training? Who are these kids?’
‘They’re the people who are going to get your son out of the favela,’ Hector said quietly. ‘If you’ll stop treating them like idiots and let them do their jobs, that is.’
‘You’ve been sent by British Intelligence?’ the ambassador said.
Hector nodded.
‘Then I guess I don’t have a choice.’
‘You don’t,’ Hector said. He stared at the ambassador. ‘I need to ask you a question,’ he said, ‘and I need you to give me an honest answer. Do you think your son went to the favela of his own accord?’
The ambassador didn’t answer immediately. He bowed his head, then nodded.
‘Why?’
‘It’s well known to be …’
‘Go on.’
‘To be a place where it’s easy to buy drugs. He must have known how dangerous the Alemão favela is. Drugs are the only reason I can think he would risk going there.’ He sniffed. ‘Tommy is a high-maintenance child.’
Silence.
Hector stood up. ‘I need to ask you to leave now,’ he told the ambassador. ‘I have to brief the team more fully. We’ll have your lad back within forty-eight hours. You have my word.’ It didn’t sound like Hector, and Max suspected he was just saying that to give the ambassador hope.
The ambassador stood up. Pale-faced, he looked at the Watchers and each of the cadets in turn. Then he shook his head, as though he couldn’t quite believe the situation he found himself in, and headed silently for the door. He unlocked the door and left without a word.
The door clicked shut. Woody locked it again.
‘So,’ Abby said brightly, ‘bust into the most dangerous favela in Rio, dodge the gangs and rescue the ambassador’s son. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.’
Hector gave her a hard look. ‘Shut up and listen,’ he said. ‘You need to understand what you’re really up against.’
2
Death Squad
‘It’s the police, isn’t it?’
Lili had said little. But as usual, when she did speak, everyone listened. Hector gave her a sharp look.
‘You said even the regular Rio police don’t venture into this favela,’ Lili continued. ‘What about the non-regular Rio police?’
‘Very good, Lili,’ Hector muttered. He glanced towards the door, as if checking that the ambassador had definitely left. ‘Have any of you ever heard of the BOPE?’ He pronounced it ‘bopay’.
There was no response from the cadets.
‘It’s the tactical unit of Rio’s military police. They call themselves a police unit, but they’re far more than that. The BOPE is largely made up of former paratroopers and ex-Special Forces soldiers. They have their own gruelling selection process and they’re kitted out like SF soldiers, not police officers. We’re talking assault rifles, fragmentation grenades, the works. They have their own armoured fighting vehicles. One of them’s called the Caveirão, or “Big Skull”. Another’s called the Pacifador.’
‘The Peacemaker,’ Lili translated. ‘Doesn’t sound like a very accurate name.’
‘It’s not,’ said Hector. ‘The role of the BOPE is to target drug gangs in the favelas. They have a shoot-to-kill policy for all members of drug gangs and their associates. Same goes for anyone posing a threat to civilians. The BOPE are brought in for riot control and to serve high-risk arrest warrants. They provide high-power fire support in firearms situations. They’re also highly trained in hostage rescue, so they can extract police officers or other people who have been abducted by the drug gangs.’
‘So why aren’t the BOPE rescuing the ambassador’s son,’ Lukas said, ‘if they’re so hard?’
‘I’m getting to that.’ Hector
took a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘Often, people attracted to serving in units like the BOPE are not always on the side of the angels. The BOPE guys – and they are all guys – operate a “shoot first, ask questions later” policy. We know they carry spare firearms to plant on civilian corpses who get caught in the crossfire.’
‘Why would they do that?’ Sami asked.
‘Obvious, isn’t it?’ said Abby.
‘Not to me,’ Sami said.
‘So they can say that the person they shot was about to fire at them, even if they were completely innocent. Right, Hector?’
‘Right,’ Hector said. ‘There have been a number of incidents of falsified crime scenes like this, often involving innocent teenagers who have found themselves in the wrong part of the favela at the wrong time. Make no mistake: the BOPE are aggressive, excessively violent and relaxed about the idea of collateral damage. People in Rio refer to them not as a police unit but as a death squad.’
‘Sounds to me,’ Max said, ‘like that’s more of a problem for Blue Command than it is for us.’
‘I wish that was true,’ Hector said. ‘When I said that certain members of the BOPE aren’t on the side of the angels, I meant it. Some take out the drug dealers then steal their money, or steal their drugs and sell them on as a side business.’
‘That’s wrong,’ Sami said. He looked genuinely shocked.
‘It doesn’t stop there. Some of the BOPE are known to sell arms to the gangs. A gang member with an old handgun is one thing. A gang member with an M16 assault rifle is a different proposition. That’s what they’re packing, and a substantial proportion of their heavy weaponry comes straight from the tactical police unit.’
‘What a mess,’ Lili said.
‘You bet it’s a mess,’ Hector agreed. ‘And it’s an even bigger mess where Blue Command are involved.’ He walked to the other side of the hotel room and retrieved an iPad from the desk. He swiped it and held it up. The screen showed a Brazilian man, perhaps in his early twenties. He had dark skin and a wild Afro haircut. He wore a tropical shirt and a chunky gold necklace. His smile was crooked, his eyes very blue.
