He still couldn't believe it, he'd been in the most secure building in the country, he should have been safe, but he wasn't, “how the hell did you get into the building?” He blurted out, “ the most secure in the bloody country, how?”
“Sorry boss” Mac cut in, “need to know, and you don't need to, besides, that car park in Derby is more secure” he couldn’t resist the jibe that a car park was regarded as the most secure building in the country.
Sir Michael couldn't believe it, 'I’m the director of MI6’ he thought, 'I’m the one who decides who needs to bloody know!’ but he knew it was pointless trying to get an answer.
“Look” he was getting frustrated,” just what the hell is going on? And how the hell did you know how to get in?”
Jacko brought the car to a halt, they were outside Sir Michael’s club, the Marylebone club. He applied the handbrake, turned and faced Sir Michael, “you've got a leak!”
“Think I don't know that!” Sir Michael almost whispered, whenever he was stressed, he went quieter, “and a body in the river,” he went on, “I'm still wondering if they're linked!”
“News said it was male” Mac chipped in, “that right?”
“Yeah” he replied, “a young computer programmer, the name of Akbari, but part of me wonders, you know anything about it?”
Neither of them reacted, at least neither of them showed any signs giving anything away, they just sat there, deadpan, almost bored expression on their faces.
“Boss” Jacko began, “your 'body’ was found this morning right?” He asked, “just about thirty hours before, we were knee deep in shit and drug dealers, hell, it took us nearly twelve hours for the 'takedown’, and you're asking if we've been busy here in London? Sorry boss, but Concorde went out of service, what, twenty years ago!”
They could see Sir Michael going red in the face, he wasn't used to being talked to this way, not by anyone. The SAS were almost as well known their 'informality’ as they were for their superb training, but they were pushing the limit of what he'd tolerate. “I'll ask you again captain” he spoke slowly and deliberately, “how did you get into the building?”
“Okay” Jacko held up his hand, “sorry boss, but we've got some serious issues to deal with,” he turned to Mac, “I think we'd better explain”
Mac had been listening in, a slightly amused expression on his face, he'd really enjoyed the verbal 'jousting’ that had been going on, 'two Rodneys ‘avin’ a go at each other’ he thought, 'best entertainment around’ but now, it was time to get serious, he looked directly at Sir Michael, and said two things, “G squadron!” as if that explained everything, both men knew exactly what, or rather whom he was talking about.
The man who founded the SAS, Major David Stirling 'The Phantom Major’ originally formed the unit in the Sahara desert in North Africa during WWII with the sole purpose of getting behind enemy lines and wreaking havoc with his infrastructure.
Naturally, a few years afterwards, it was realised, if you've got people trained, and very good at doing it, maybe they can help prevent it happening to you? Not long after that 'G’ squadron came into being, the goal, 'create the best counter-terrorism unit (CTU) on earth’
“Okay,” Sir Michael replied, “that much even I knew” he looked exasperated, “ but explain how you got in?”
“Not a chance!” Mac was smiling, “but shall we say operation Bonfire?”
That hit like a sledgehammer, he couldn't believe he'd been so dimwitted
During the London Olympics in 2012, there was a very real threat of terrorists doing something spectacular to get their message out, the British government had gone to great lengths to make sure that didn’t happen, London became the ‘most watched’ city on the planet, but two ‘operations’ were launched to make sure that the place stayed safe.
The first one everyone knew about, they couldn’t miss it, anti-aircraft missiles were placed on every tall building in the city, all of them linked to a central command centre that was tracking every flying object within a hundred miles of the event, anything flying that shouldn't be there wouldn’t be challenged by a fighter (normal procedure), it would be interrogated by Radar, no RFID chip and it would be blasted from the sky long before it reached London, it was called ‘Operation Ring of Fire’
The second one, one no one but a few select people knew about asked the question ‘ what if they came another way, and took over a building?’
It concentrated on using underground networks to get from A to B, ‘How can you move a strike team from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ without being seen or heard?’
The last time London had seen a terrorist attack like this someone tried to blow up the entire houses of Parliament using gunpowder, that was back in 1604.
The perpetrators were caught and executed, but it became famous as ‘the gunpowder plot’ and November 5th became ‘Bonfire night’ celebrating their execution, ‘Operation Bonfire’ made sure it didn’t happen again, at least, ‘not on my watch’ Sir Michael had said when the operation started.
“I suppose that would explain it” he was resigned to the fact he wasn’t going to get much more out of them, he hadn’t known all the people involved in ‘Op Bonfire’ at the time, it was only a select few in the planning stages, but the whole of ‘G Squadron’ was on ‘standby’ to deal with any threat within the city, and the buildings in the centre, near Parliament and Buckingham Palace had been given extra attention, “Obviously the ‘improvements since haven’t made much of a difference?” he already knew the answer, but had to say something, “But what is this about then?”
“Sorry that it’s so ‘cloak and dagger’ boss” Jacko cut back in, but there are a few things only you need to know, and too many places have eyes and ears”
“So does this car” Sir Michael replied.
“Did” Jacko replied, “We swept it, and we’re jamming the transmission” he held up what looked like a small cigarette lighter, “Mildred’s compliments” he added, ‘She doesn’t want her message to get into the wrong hands”
“And what is that message?” he asked.
“You’ve got a leak”
“I bloody know that!” Sir Michael’s voice rose, “I’ve also got a body fished from the Thames, are the two related, is he the mole?”
“They’re related” Mac cut back in, “But not the way you think!”
“And what the heck does that mean?”
“Akbari’s a set up” Jacko replied, “Made to look like he was the mole so we’d back off trying to find them, don’t accept my word for it” he held up what looked like a ‘flash drive’ a small piece of computer hardware, no bigger than the average Human thumbnail, “Our mutual friend Mildred sent us this recording a couple of hours ago, our mole” he waived the flash drive around, “used a different sim card, and phone, but isn’t yet aware we’ve got most of the landline numbers, they used an unencrypted phone, we got the details!” he gave the flash drive to the spook, “Check everything out for yourself” and with that both he and Mac opened their doors, he was half way out of the car when he turned back, “There are instructions on the drive, follow them, and we can take the bastards down!” and with that he got out, closed the door and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Chapter 6
LocationAuckland International Airport, New Zealand, the Departures lounge.
TimeTuesday 10am (local time)
“Got your tickets?” Peter asked them as they headed for the check-in counter, he was torn between emotions, not sure as a father what he was supposed to feel, sad to see them leave, partly worried for his ‘little girl’ and partly relieved that somehow they’d lived through the last week. Sad they weren’t going to be there for Kevin’s funeral, but also relieved it was all over.
“Bit bloody late if we left ‘em at the farm isn’t it?” Joey shot back, a smile on his face and Sandy digging him in the ribs.
“Yeah, we’ve got ‘em dad” she held them up for both of them to see
, turning to Joey she went on, “Didn’t honestly think I’d trust you to bring ‘em did you?” she was smiling.
“No wonder I couldn’t find ‘em” he looked genuinely relieved, “hoped that’s where they were!”
“You'd forget your head if it was loose!” Sandy was laughing as she waived the tickets.
“Good job it's screwed on right then!” Joey picked the bags up, they both headed for the counter.
“Morning folks” the check-in attendant was cheerful in welcoming them, “you have time for refreshments upstairs if you like, boarding commences at 1 pm” she stuck the airline tags on the bags and placed them onto the conveyor belt, the bags at least, were headed for the aircraft, or at least would be once it arrived.
“Coffee sounds a great idea” Peter was enthusiastically heading for the escalator, the rest of the group lagging behind, Joey and Sandy were the last, they didn't particularly want to catch up, 'just a few moments alone would be precious’ was what they were both thinkings.
“Right about now” Joey whispered just loud enough for her to hear, “Jacko and Mac are in London, or almost there.” They were at the foot of the escalator, he stepped aside to let Sandy go first, she mouthed a 'thank you’ as he followed her on, his eyes even now scanned the crowds, partly force of habit and partly that he thought he recognised a couple of faces, but couldn’t be sure.
“Don’t know about you?” Sandy commented, “but I could murder a coffee!” the escalator was moving, but she took the steps two at a time.
“Sounds a great idea” Joey was right on her heels, “the coffee that is, not the murder part” he ducked as Sandy turned and looked as if she was going to slap him, “Just clarifying what I meant” he replied laughing.
“Two cappuccinos please” Sandy ordered from the coffee shop in the departure lounge, “and two teas, English breakfast” she added quickly, Joey and Peter had both got trays, put two plates on each, then served up sausage rolls and carrot cake for themselves, Sandy and her mum both just had just the carrot cake.
“Seems strange” Peter was the first one to speak, just after they sat down, “Doesn’t feel right really, you only just got here,and there’s so much to talk about” everyone was in a subdued mood, and everyone knew it was true, Joey and Sandy had been in the country a couple of weeks at most, arranged so quickly that the family hadn’t had time to plan a ‘proper’ get together, then what with all that had gone on, they spent more time worrying about Helen than anything else.
Helen was recovering slowly from the trauma of the accident, she’d taken Kevin’s death really hard, probably exacerbated by her own injuries, but things were going to be even harder when everything settled, “are you sure?” Peter continued on, “that you really do need to leave?”
“I wish we could stay” Joey was honest, he stopped speaking as he reached for the coffee that was his, taking the small packet of sugar, and ignoring Sandy’s surprised look, he gently opened the packet and poured the sugar into the coffee, there were some wooden sticks that acted as stirring spoons on the table, he took one and began to stir, Peter had done the same with his cup of tea. “But the truth is, this isn’t over yet,” Sandy was kicking him under the table, almost shouting with her eyes, he wasn’t paying the slightest heed to her messages.
“Why do I still feel you aren't telling us things?” Peter sighed, it was a conversation he and Joey had before, and he knew the answer but had to ask anyway.
“Because it's better we don't” Joey replied, “you'll just have to trust we've got good reasons!”
Every op has three phases, the ‘infill’ or infiltration, where the team gets in on the ground, that part often sounds tricky, but it’s the easiest part of the op, all they have to do is make sure they’re not seen. Then there’s the operation itself, and if that goes off well then the next part begins if it doesn’t then the nightmare called ‘extraction’ begins.
Even when an op ‘runs like clockwork’ the extraction can be tricky, if you got a team in without being detected, you have to get them out without detection too, and considering the mess they might be leaving behind, that might not be easy!
Joey and Sandy were registered with New Zealand immigration, they came into the country, therefore they had to leave the same way, otherwise, it would raise ‘red flags’ or warnings later, ‘If they came in, but didn’t leave, then where the hell did they go?’
“We’ll give you a call when we get back to London” Sandy assured her parents, “Just to let you know everything’s okay” they’d at least ‘play that game’ if it helped her parents stop worrying.
“Flight SQ286 now boarding at gate 24, would all passengers please make their way through to the aircraft” the message came over the airport’s speakers.
Joey and Sandy both reached down for their bags, travel was part of their world, but it didn’t make the leaving any easier, they had a job to do, and there’d been no other way to get on with it, they had to go through the left side, the other way would have been much harder for all of them, at least this way, they’d got to say some kind of goodbye.
They were just going through the final checkpoint when a hand reached out and tapped them on the shoulder, “You think you’re just walking out of here?” Joey spun around not knowing what to expect, but ready for anything, Hene and Sam were both stood there, neither had uniforms on, both still had bruises, Sam had made an effort to disguise hers with concealer, Hene wore his like a badge he was proud of! “Think you’re getting out without even a goodbye”
“Hene, Sam” Joey began, “What the hell are you doing here?” he grabbed Hene’s hand and started pumping a rigorous handshake, it was good to see them.
“Making sure you got on the bloody plane” Hene shot back, he pulled the trooper into a Hongi, a traditional Maori greeting. Sam and Sandy were hugging each other, the rest of the family were a bit perplexed, “Er Mum and Dad” Sandy began, “These are the two police who were investigating we mentioned, the two who”
“Please” Sam cut in, “Don’t remind us”
“Oh” was all Sandy’s mum could say, still not totally understanding things, Peter understood, Joey and Sandy had pulled the two out of the ‘proverbial’ only to get their lives saved by them, you might say ‘as clear as mud’ but then again, it usually is in combat.
“No seriously” Joey began, “what brings you here?”
“I told you” Hene was smiling, “New Zealand can’t cope with the damage you do, we’re making sure you’re on that bloody plane!” they were laughing.
“Ignore him” Sam cut in, “we just wanted to come and say a big thank you to you both.”
“For what?” Joey sounded serious, we were only” Sandy held up a finger to Joey’s lips.
“Ignore this one too”, she said to Sam, “He’s milking it for all it’s worth, can’t help himself really” she laughed, “It’s really good to see you, but we’ve gotta get going!”
“Speaking of which” Hene spoke up, “that’s another reason we’re here, follow us all of you” he turned and led them down a short path, past the Jean Batten lounge and into a quiet part of the airport, it was the ‘first class’ lounge, “We had a word with the airline, and got them to upgrade you, you’re in first class, compliments of the New Zealand Police, just don’t tell them!”
Chapter 7
Metropolitan Police Central building, Lambeth, Central London.
“So” BJ stopped for a moment, gathering her thoughts, trying to sound as if she knew where the case was going, and as if she was in charge. It felt like the case was in charge of her, dictating everything and refusing to reveal any of its secrets, no matter how hard they pushed for a result, “at the moment all we know is that the deceased probably didn’t enter the river all that far from the place where he was found, am I right with that at least?” It was a start.
They’d been ‘hard at it’ trying to track their ‘John Doe’ from the get-go, and gotten nowhere, or “Got sweet Fanny Adams” as
they say in the UK, nothing to show for days of work, and it niggled them, it was starting to drive them crazy.
“No identification then?” one of the officers, Frank, a middle-aged overweight cop with thinning hair, the product long hours and late nights asked, “No licence or anything?” he had a coffee in one hand, a sandwich in the other, it was bacon, then again, they’d been at work since the early morning, it was nearly lunchtime now.
“None found” Billie was ‘briefing’ her team, the one that Steve Townsend had given her, she needed help, and this was beginning to get some priority, but the lack of information was almost embarrassing. ‘London’s the most watched city on the flaming planet’ she thought to herself, ‘someone has to know who this guy is!’
“No witnesses, nothing on CCTV?” another cop, female, slightly younger than Billie and wearing the name badge ‘Elizabeth’ asked.
“Nothing” BJ replied, “One minute the body wasn’t there, next it was, nothing caught on camera”
To the team in front of her, that was strange, but she grew up in Moss Side, one of the roughest places in the country, up there the gangs all knew where the cameras were, and they knew how to avoid them, ‘But this happened right outside flaming parliament’ she thought, ‘the very seat of power, don’t give me that crap about ‘no one saw anything’ I don’t believe it, not for one sodding second’
They’d studied every camera the ‘Met’ (as the Metropolitan Police is known) had in the area, every square inch was covered, but nothing, every Bank, every building that had CCTV had been issued with a search warrant, she’d even asked ‘Special Branch’ to ask the other security services (MI5 and MI6) for their footage, nothing showed up.
“What we do know” she cut back in, “is sometime Tuesday morning, around 2 am our friend went into the river, somewhere around here” she drew two lines across the river, about four hundred yards apart, “and he was there about three hours before he was found, that much the pathologist is certain of!”
Scorpion's Vengeance Page 3
