“No, Abi. You’re the lucky one. You only get two days.”
“How come only two days?”
“You have Bernie, plus three assistants, and you have those super brain computers. Also, I need possible profiles ASAP.”
“But without me those lumps of plastic are useless.”
“Are you up for the challenge or not?”
“Sure, Boss. Sounds like fun.”
“Dom, I want you to dig up some old friends and rattle their cages. Take whatever and whoever you need from the combat course in Joint Command. I’m sure that they would love some real-life practice.”
“But what about—”
“Don’t worry, Dom. I’ll sort out the red tape. You just get some leads. Somebody must know something. You can’t just go around using plastic and ammonium nitrate and not be noticed, can you?”
“Okay, Boss, will do.”
“Let Abi and I know who you’re visiting, and we can start building pictures, profiles and start mapping.”
“Abi?”
“Yeah, Boss.”
“Can you send a message to Resources and give them the tech requirements List A. We don’t know what we’re going to need in this case yet, but I want to be prepared. I don’t want to be held up waiting for delivery of anything. The sooner we order, the sooner we get.”
“Sure, will do. Hey, wait a minute — List A includes those new micro drones, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, the ones we used as a trial on the Hunter case.”
“They were fantastic, especially when linked up to my mobile.”
“Does everyone know what they’re doing?” Jago asked.
He let the room fall silent, waiting for a question or a comment. There was neither.
“Make sure that you report to Abi, who will be collating and inputting intel. I want to know what is going on out there and I want to pre-empt the next strike which will likely be in seven days. I have people to see and arrangements to make. Keep in touch. Oh, and don’t forget to use the mobile scramblers when you call in. Oh, and one last yet important thing to remember. We have no rules to adhere to, people. There are no rules of engagement. We do not have to play fair. I know that for some of you that this a concept that goes against everything that’s been drilled into you for many years, and it’s probably a shackle that you’ve been itching to remove for some time. Well, now is that time. We have our objective. How we achieve that is up to us. It’s fluid. We act and react however we want to achieve our aim.”
The room fell silent for what seemed an eternity.
Jago broke the silence.
“That will be all, people.”
Chapter 5 – Dom’s World
Dom started up his motorcycle, a powerful Stealth Hawk US import. It quietly purred as he put on his helmet. He loved the freedom that the bike gave him, and he wanted the flexibility and speed to get to where he wanted when he needed to. He was heading over to a Joint Command training facility to recruit willing bodies to help shake some leaves from the trees. As he parked his bike, he saw the familiar car of his long-time friend, Oz. Oz was the Joint Command Training Officer for face-to-face combat. He was an expert in a number of martial arts disciplines and had developed lethal combat techniques for Special Forces and other field operatives. It was in Oz’s wing that Dom hoped to recruit a team of six to lend him a hand. All those undergoing training were field operatives on downtime taking an advanced combat course. He didn’t anticipate any difficulties in recruiting willing participants.
Dom entered the facility and handed over his ID to the security officer at the desk. He glanced at the digital clock hanging on the wall behind the counter. 08:45 hours.
“Hi, I’m here to see Major Osborne-Wold.”
“Good morning, Sir. May I ask if you have a firearm to submit?”
“No, not today.”
The security officer wore no insignia to indicate to which force he belonged.
“Very good, Sir. You may proceed through channel five. That’s over there beside the guard.”
Dom strode over to the security channel, read the instructions and paused, waiting for the security staff to give the green light. The barrier lifted and he entered the sterile area between two screens. As the barrier closed behind him, a computer-generated voice instructed him to raise his arms above his head. He heard the swooshing sound of the scanner followed by the instruction to stay where he was. He noticed that the light panel in front of him had a red flashing light. He couldn’t go anywhere as he was sandwiched between the barriers with guards to the front and rear, both of whom now had their weapons in hand at the ready.
The security officer from reception walked calmly over to the channel.
“Sir, it appears that you have some items on you that you should have declared earlier and failed to do so. Would you now please kneel with your hands on your head?”
In a calm, yet defiant voice, Dom said, “I will not. If you recall, you asked me if I have a firearm to submit. And I gave you a truthful answer. Because I do not intend to submit it.” He thought for a moment and then corrected himself, “Them. I don’t intend to submit them, nor the knives that you failed to ask about.”
“Then, regrettably, you will not be able to proceed and we will have to—”
Another strong northern accent interrupted.
“I don’t think that that will be necessary. Open the barrier.”
The security officer was stunned. “But Major—”
“Don’t you ‘but’ me! Just open the barrier and let my friend through. Now!” He looked at the other two guards. “And you two can put those things away. They wouldn’t have been any use to you anyway.”
The security officer returned to his console and arranged for the barrier to be lifted. Oz moved forward to greet Dom, and they shook hands and hugged for a moment.
Oz spoke first. “Come on, let’s get inside, away from this madness. Now, what brings you here?”
“I agree, let’s walk and talk,” said Dom. “By the way, Jack sends you his regards.”
“Jack? Jack who?”
Dom just looked at him and smiled.
“You don’t mean Jack Jago?” Oz spoke in a hushed voice. “You’re not in with Jago, are you? My God! You want to be careful who you’re mixing with. He’s been an eternal hell for many on both sides. He’s an unruly so-and-so.”
“That’s as maybe, but he gets the job done, and I’m happy working with him from time to time. It keeps me on my toes, and there’s never a dull moment.”
“I bet there isn’t! Talking of which, what brings you here?”
Dom briefed Oz who suggested that Dom approached those who were nearing completion of their course.
“They would benefit from the practice, I’m sure. They’re a good bunch — mad keen and ready to return to the field. Do I need to sign anything?”
“Thanks, Oz. And no, you don’t have to sign anything.”
“I see. It’s like that, is it?”
“Yep, it’s like that,” replied Dom, smiling.
Oz waited, half expecting Dom to continue with some semblance of a story but he said nothing.
“You’re not even going to tell me, are you?”
Dom shook his head. “Nope, sorry. No can do, Oz.”
Oz threw his arms up. “Oh, what the hell. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
They left Oz’s office in silence and walked down the sterile corridor towards a lift. Once inside, Oz asked once more.
“You’re not going to tell me are you, Dom?”
“No, Sir, I am not.”
“Not even in this tin box, just between you and me?”
“No, Sir.”
The lift doors opened and Oz led the way to a matted dojo where six men were grappling with one another. Seeing the major approach, their instructor called them to order.
“Relax,” Oz said. “I want to introduce you to this young man. His name is Dom, and he is someone to trust. He’s on our side. In fact
, you should know that he and I served together many moons ago and we had some hell-raising moments. He has other responsibilities now and is in need of a little unofficial assistance. You men are that unofficial assistance and this will count towards your, shall we say … practical assessment. Your instructor and I will leave you in Dom’s capable hands.”
“Thank you for the introduction, Major. I’ll take good care of them, I promise.”
Dom waited until Oz and the instructor had left before he started briefing the men.
“Gentlemen, this is a ghosting operation. We have two targets — one in Kensington, London, and another in Portsmouth. Both of them will be protected, and we will have to use the element of surprise to grab them. We have ongoing intel regarding their movements. Specifically, where they will be today and tomorrow. I would like to take them both today as this case is time sensitive.”
“What will we be travelling in?” said one of the men.
“We’ll be in two grab vans. And they’re waiting nearby.”
“The first of the targets is known as ‘D’. He’s a Caucasian male of forty-three years of age and London-based.”
Dom opened a file and took out a photograph, which he passed to the man on the end of the line.
“Here’s a photo of him that was taken three days ago. He normally travels in one car with an Italian personal aide, a bodyguard and a driver. There are two more bodyguards in the second vehicle, which is always to the rear of the principal car. One of the bodyguards in the second vehicle is also the driver.”
“Are they armed? If so, what with?”
“The bodyguards and drivers will be armed. Intel suggests that they have Heckler and Koch semi-autos and possibly an MP5. We don’t know about the aide, but we can assume that they are.”
“So, we have some heavyweight targets then.”
“Yes, we do, but we also have no rules of engagement. So, if they want to play, so can we, but with no restrictions. Are you clear on this? And more importantly, are you comfortable with this? It’s okay if you’re not. No one is forcing you.”
“What about cameras? They’re bloody everywhere,” asked an unshaven man of slight build.
“Don’t worry about cameras. We’ll black out the area and block mobiles during both snatches.”
“Any more questions regarding this target?”
He made eye contact with all of them and no further questions were forthcoming.
“Okay, let’s move onto target number two. This Portsmouth-based young man of twenty-four thinks he’s invincible, just like Superman. He’s been lifted many times and has always managed to get off without so much as a parking ticket. He’s trigger happy and is likely to shoot you on sight, so we need to be quick. I need him fit and well, so I suggest that we Taser him ASAP. That’ll calm him down for the transfer. He normally travels with an overweight driver who can hardly get in and out of the car, but can seriously drive, and a Chinese male, who by all accounts is Bruce Lee reincarnated. Taser him too for a quick take out and pin the driver so that he doesn’t take off. Are there any questions regarding this target?”
“Can we ask what the interest is in these targets?”
“You can ask, but I cannot give you an answer, save to say it’s a matter of national security.”
The man shrugged. “Okay, fine. I was just interested.”
“Anything else?”
Dom paused before continuing.
“Right get tooled up, and blacks are the order of the day. If you haven’t got any with you, go and see the Quartermaster and he’ll kit you out. It’s now 0930 hours. I’ll meet you back here at 1015 hours.”
The men dispersed, chatting as they left the room, and went upstairs.
Dom called the drivers of the vehicles and arranged for them to be ready in the nearby underpass.
***
“Control, this is Delta One, we’re in position. Over,” Dom called in.
“Delta One, this is Control. I hear you loud and clear. Targets are moving as expected. Their ETA is, wait … three minutes. Over.”
“Roger, that, ETA in three minutes. Keep the channel open. Blocks on in two minutes then. Over,” Abi replied from the control room.
“Roger. Blocks in two minutes and counting. Over.”
“Delta Two, this is Delta One, do you copy? Over.”
“Delta Two, understood. Over.”
“Wait for my mark … wait.”
“Deltas One and Two, blocks are on and targets are approaching. Over.”
“Roger that, Delta One.”
“Roger that, Delta Two.”
“Hello all stations, this is Delta One. GO, GO, GO!”
The vans moved off slowly and joined the traffic. They knew that they had a blackout time of two minutes to effect the snatch. The targets had pulled up in their white Mercedes saloons one behind the other outside of the Harp Tavern on Spall Street, just as indicated by intel. The bodyguard got out of the principal target’s car from the passenger seat and was making his way around to open the rear door for his boss. At the same time, the bodyguard in the rear vehicle did the same. Just as the principal car’s door was being opened, the vans boxed in the vehicles and the team swept into action. Two members of the group held the drivers at gunpoint, demanding the keys, while the two bodyguards on the street were taken down swiftly by two team members and duly PlastiCuffed.
The driver of the principal vehicle reached for a pistol, and a shot rang out, leaving him dead. One team member guarded the cuffed bodyguards while another member started removing their weapons and mobiles. Dom and another of the team dragged the aide out of the vehicle. He was shouting frantically with his arms and legs flailing about … until he was Tasered. Dom pointed his MP5 at the target and asked, “Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle, Sir?”
“Go to hell! Do you know who I am?” the target responded, with a dark piercing stare.
Dom nodded to a team member who had just taken out the driver, and he moved into position beside the target’s car door.
“Sir, I haven’t got time for this. Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle?”
As the target started to respond, Dom shattered the window glass with a firm tap from his centre punch. He punched a hole in the glass with his fist, and as the target covered his face from the glass, Dom reached inside and grabbed the abundant hair with his massive hand, dragging him from the car. He was pinned to the ground, cuffed, searched and dragged to the open door of the front van. They threw him in, face down, and placed a hood over his head.
By this time, a group of men had exited the pub. Two moved towards the team which aimed its Sig pistols at them to hold them off as they backed up into the vans. The unplated vans sped off as the doors were sliding shut and turned an immediate left out of the sight of onlookers. They then adopted the speed of the regular traffic and separated.
The crew of Dom’s vehicle knew the silent routine, and one of them prepared and administered a dose of sodium pentothal to the target. Once it was established that he was under, Dom checked in.
“Control, this is Delta One. Target one secure. Over.”
“Received Delta One. Blocks removed and drone in observation. Over.”
“Received. Over and out.”
***
The vans briefly pulled over to apply a false vehicle registration and then maintained visual contact with each other as they re-joined the Portsmouth-bound traffic along the A3. Control had disabled the roadside cameras when the vans exited London and for the following thirty miles. The plan was designed to leave enough doubt in the minds of anyone who could have been watching.
Dom called in.
“Control, this is Delta One, any obs from the drone? Over.”
“Delta One, this is Control. Only that the Blues are in attendance after vehicles had left the scene with the other targets. Over. Other than that, nothing to report. Over.”
“Roger that. Over and out.”
Dom hadn’t expected
any flack or follow up. The last thing the target and his team wanted was to have the police crawling all over them. It was probably some unsuspecting member of the public who had called it in, and by the time the police unit had attended it would all have been tidied away. All any witnesses could say was that they saw two black vans and some men dressed in black with guns who dragged a person away. The police would soon conclude that it was the action of a rival gang. Dom was confident that by the time a report had been filed, his crew would be in Portsmouth snatching target number two.
***
Dom and his team met at the rendezvous point, close to the old Royal Marine barracks. One team parked their van in Prince Albert Road, from where they could see the Three Marines pub, and the other team parked in the supermarket car park on Highland Road, facing eastwards towards the pub, covering both approaches.
“Control, this is Delta One, do you copy? Over.”
“Delta One, this is Control. Target is en route with an ETA of five minutes. The target is driving a black four by four, registration Whisky Kilo one six Papa Quebec. Over.”
“Roger that. Over.”
“Target is travelling westwards. There is only one, repeat, one passenger. The other male alighted earlier on the other side of the city. Over.”
“Roger that. Over.”
“All stations, this is Delta One. Target ETA four minutes. I repeat, four minutes, wait out. Over.”
It was 16:30 hours and the local school traffic had dispersed. There was a lull and Dom’s team calmly waited for the target’s arrival.
Dom spotted the four by four. It had slowed to a stop outside of the pub just as the intel had indicated.
“Delta Two, this is Delta One. GO, GO, GO!”
Both vans sped towards their prey, only to watch it start up and continue eastwards. Not knowing if they had been identified or not, Delta Two stayed in the traffic flow and Delta One waited a little longer at the junction of Prince Albert Street and Highland Road before indicating right and joining the traffic some four hundred metres behind the target.
Dom spoke to the driver. “Where the hell is he going? Keep them in sight but keep back as much as you can.”
Shades of Loyalty Page 4
