by Ted Tayler
He drove into Dorchester, topped up the hire car with fuel, and then headed back to the cottage in the little village. As he drove, he thought how beautiful the countryside was. Khadim Salah shut the thought out of his mind; earthly beauty was nothing compared to paradise.
CHAPTER 19
There was less than a week until the Opening Ceremony. The level of excitement around the country grew, even amongst those who were normally not that interested in sporting occasions. The Torch Relay, the Diamond Jubilee weekend and an occasional ‘feel good’ factor were reported in the news. All of this contributed to a notion that whatever the weather, the summer of 2012 would be fun.
At Larcombe Manor, the mood brightened too. The news from the icehouse lifted spirits. So far, there had been no confirmed sightings of Khadim Salah and Shamila Javed, but at least, they had something positive to aim for. Before those two pieces of information dropped in their lap, they had been rushing around in the dark.
Erebus asked Athena and Phoenix to stay behind after the morning meeting on Monday. He had several things on his mind.
“Please do not mention any of what I am about to say to anyone outside this room. Do you understand?”
They nodded.
“Since I lost my beloved Elizabeth, I have been giving serious thought to the future. I need to hold onto the reins for the time being. As soon as you are ready Athena, I can assure you I shall stand aside. You will lead the Olympus Project. Phoenix, you are to become her right-hand man.”
Colin was startled.
“Me sir, surely one of the other three heads expect to be chosen?”
“If they do, then they are mistaken. You may think these old eyes miss things but I know that you two have let’s say grown close, shall we? Even if that were not so, Phoenix, you would still be the only logical choice. Thanatos, Alastor, and Minos have been indispensable; yet they are followers, not leaders. You and Athena have youth and ambition on your side. The Olympus Project needs that in abundance as it faces an ever more challenging future. I believe the two of you working together possess the necessary skills to meet those challenges.”
Athena got up and went to the old man. She hugged him warmly.
“Phoenix and I won’t fail you Erebus,” she said, kissing him on top of his head.
“I wish to give you both an insight of my vision for Olympus as you take it forward, without me. I hope you will develop the organisation following the principles I established when we started.”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” said Colin.
Erebus rose from his chair at the head of the table and walked over to the drinks cabinet. He gestured to Athena and Phoenix to join him. He poured himself a large glass of brandy and invited the others to fix themselves a drink. He sat in his favourite chair by the fireplace and when they were comfortable too, he outlined his thoughts for the future of the Olympus Project.
“A collaborative, international approach to security underpins the ethos of many of today's successful independent organisations. More and more independents are tackling issues of scale that may have limited them previously, with the help of global affiliations and technology.
In a globalised world, an international organisation network is one way to tackle the limitations of size for an independent, such as ourselves. Such a partnership can unlock worldwide opportunities. Olympus must seek to develop partnerships that take advantage of the benefits of global scale, shared insights, and knowledge of the local criminal activity. This offers the Project local support. The collaborative approach will allow the organisation to deliver more.
Bringing together different but complimentary skill sets through collaboration with different partners around the world can allow us to deliver integrated global campaigns. Campaigns where the result will be much greater than the sum of the parts.
Collaboration plays a key role; it is not always the easy choice, especially with a mix of talented, opinionated, and ambitious people in the mix. I would suggest that you take an objective view and, use coercion, be polite and in the end direct action to get the result you want.
We live in a digital world now and technology has undoubtedly helped how we create, connect, and work together. We are more connected and accessible than ever before and this immediacy helps us work more quickly and efficiently. Partnership and collaboration will continue to bring organisations together and in the final analysis, getting the criminals is what matters.
This is my vision. The Olympus Project will become a global agency for good.”
Athena and Phoenix sat and listened to the elderly gentleman; they were enthralled. Their drinks remained untouched as Erebus laid before them the projected scope for the organisation based here in the countryside just outside Bath.
“It looks as if we’ve got our work cut out Athena,” said Colin.
“How on earth will we finance this escalation?” asked Athena ‘Indeed, how can we even sustain the organisation in its current form?”
Erebus looked at her.
“When we committed ourselves to the Project in 2007, I told you that as well as my own money, and that of you and your three colleagues, we received support from others. People with access to funds who believed in what we did. This financial backing depended on their identity remaining secret. Nothing has changed in that regard. In football in recent years, the media mention the term oligarch for business magnates who became super rich, very quickly, particularly in Eastern Europe. Latterly in the Middle East, India and the Far East too.
Our ‘angels’ are not oligarchs; safe to say their money has been amassed over centuries. The families that these men and women come from have walked the fields and travelled the highways of this nation since the Middle Ages. There is as much chance of that well running dry as Fulham winning the Premiership.”
“Very reassuring,” said Athena.
“Sorry, was that still a football analogy?” asked Colin, aware that he had huge gaps in his sporting knowledge.
“Not to worry Phoenix,” said Erebus, with a smile. “Oh, before I forget, you have been with us for over a year now and your own financial situation is becoming clearer. Our accountants convinced the Cayman Islands bank that your alter ego is no more. A year and a day have passed and they are now happy to accept the terms of the will we sent them bequeathing the balance of your accounts to a worthy charity. As soon as the Olympus Project has received the money, we will transfer ninety percent of it into a personal account in your name.”
“That’s a sizable handling charge!” cried Colin.
“Ah, but doesn’t it feel good, donating to charity?”
“Who will I be then, Mr. Phoenix?” asked Colin “Will I get a card to use at an ATM? I’ll need to practice my signature.”
“The account will be in the name of Phoenix Holdings, which we thought apt. Our accountants will handle it on your behalf; make sure it continues to make money and you merely draw any cash you need for your personal use. You may continue to access Olympus funds when out in the field on a direct action, of course.”
“Of course,” said Colin “do you have any idea when the Swiss banks might cough up?”
“As usual, they are proving a more difficult nut to crack, but be patient Phoenix; it will turn out alright in the end.”
“Well, ninety percent OK at least,” muttered Colin.
Athena thought it time to change the subject. It was always unseemly to discuss money. She had no idea how much money Phoenix had salted away, or how he had got it; she did not want to know, truth be told, she loved him whether he was prince or pauper. Athena wanted to return to the matter of the future direction of the Olympus Project, post-Erebus.
“You gave us an insight into the future earlier Erebus. Do you have any particular ethos or ‘mission statement’ in modern parlance, to sum up to what you believe the new and revitalised Olympus should aspire?”
Erebus got up and walked back to the table. He found a sheet of paper in the back of one of
his files.
“Let me quote you the following:
Our mission will be to preempt threats and to maintain national security by collecting intelligence that matters, producing objective analysis, conducting effective covert action as directed, and safeguarding the secrets that help keep our nation safe.
“That sounds good,” said Colin.
Athena giggled.
“What’s so funny?” asked Colin.
“It should sound good; that is almost word for word the mission statement of the CIA.”
“I thought it covered want we strive to do,” said Erebus “but generally, we do it better.”
All three chorused “Of course!”
“Right, let’s be serious for a moment,” said Athena, “these drinks are way too strong.”
“The drinks have put colour in your cheeks, my dear,” said Erebus “but you’re right, we should put our long-term visions aside for now. We must concentrate our minds on the more pressing matters of the coming week.”
“Phoenix won’t know this, but we have a handful of agents inside the Olympic Stadium for the Opening Ceremony on the twenty-seventh,” said Erebus.
“Do we know the theme of the ceremony?” asked Colin.
Erebus referred to his files again and showed Colin and Athena aerial shots of the stadium.
“The ceremony is expected to be viewed by a global television audience of more than a billion. So it had better be up to scratch. I can’t imagine this Boyle fellow getting finance for another picture if he makes a cock-up of this.
The show will essentially tell the story of the making of Britain - culturally, socially and politically. Take a look at these pictures we got from a helicopter that flew over East London at the weekend. The extravaganza will feature smoke stacks, pits and steam power as it showcases Britain's industrial history. You can expect to hear ‘dark satanic mills’ being belted out through the million-watt sound system.”
Colin wondered what Iron Maiden and Judas Priest were doing that Friday night. If they were on stage, he would snap up a ticket, no question.
Erebus was still explaining the possible programme of events.
“The organisers have already revealed there will be light and shade. Life is about balance. I expect they’ll trot out a group of bloody Morris dancers some when.”
“As relevant to England’s history as a Balti,” said Colin.
“Precisely,” said Erebus.
Athena then told Colin about the people Olympus had on the inside.
“They first found out they had a part in the ceremony in January, having auditioned in November last year. We had no idea what they were getting themselves into, but we anticipated that we would need eyes and ears in the stadium. They went through the process and were assigned to various roles from dancing to backstage work.
Rehearsals started in Bow in April, and then moved to Dagenham; final rehearsals switched into Stratford four weeks ago. Two technical dress rehearsals are scheduled before the final ceremony; one today and one on Wednesday.”
“We know what the official security levels are for this carnival,” said Colin “what will this handful of agents bring to the party?”
“They are highly trained people. They won’t be distracted by their own roles on this show, or by the hype that will surround the entire evening,” said Athena. “If they see or hear anything suspicious, they will act accordingly. It’s a calculated risk.”
Erebus sat deep in thought. He looked towards Colin.
“Do you think we have missed a trick somewhere Phoenix?”
“I hope not. If I had been asked the question last autumn, I would have seen the sense in having people on the inside. Back then, the likelihood was there would be an orchestrated attack by Al Qaeda on the Games. We were looking at medal ceremonies being bomb targets, kidnappings and dozens of different scenarios.
We may well get something such as that. If we do, then the planning has occurred far away from these shores. The terrorists won’t even be in the country yet. That seems unlikely. I reckon the lack of any real evidence of orchestration suggests that we will need to stop a lone wolf.”
“The lone wolf being this Khadim Salah perhaps?” asked Erebus.
“If he is a suicide bomber, then the girl is probably a cover, something to make him appear to be a normal bloke with an attractive younger woman on his arm.”
Athena smiled to herself. Phoenix was four years older than her.
“While I still worked with MI5,” she said, “we examined the phenomenon of suicide bombing. Young males carry out most attacks, as we know; they became a weapon of choice among terrorists because of their deadliness and ability to cause mayhem and fear. What is it that motivates these attackers?
The driving force is not always religious fanaticism but a whole range of things including politics, humiliation, and revenge. A bomber’s life story rarely shows any plain connection between violent militant activity and personality disorders. In fact, most suicide bombers are psychologically normal and are light years away from being loners.
Khadim Salah was a bright student who lost his way. He drifted from one dead-end job to another, and then found a niche in which he could be very successful. The recession saw the rug pulled out from under him. What was his response? He went to university and excelled. He got a first class degree. The fact it was in Politics and Sociology has intense relevance. Over the past three years, he has been building up the hatred he has for the system he sees as responsible for his redundancy. He believes it was because he was a Muslim. What other reason could there be? He was brilliant at his job by all accounts. Someone has to pay.”
“I think you’ve nailed it,” said Colin “he was humiliated. In his eyes, he deserved more respect.”
“If this chap wants revenge, why not plant a bomb in the Olympic Stadium and claim responsibility afterwards. Why on earth would you blow yourself to smithereens?” asked Erebus.
“If he does, we’ll never get the chance to ask him.” said Colin “We need to find this couple and take them out of the picture before he gets the chance to do the deed.”
CHAPTER 20
Popeye and Olive Oyl were returning home after an evening at the cinema. Their new mobile phones rang.
‘321 my flat tomorrow’
“What do you think it means?” asked Aaleyah.
“Nothing urgent; if it can wait until tomorrow,” said Farooq.
Munaf was in his flat. He turned to Abdul.
“Everything is ready. Every element has been bought. They are a few in the bag on the chair by the window. The rest is at my uncle’s place. I told him I needed spare storage for my books while I was off campus. He doesn’t suspect a thing. I shall pick them up tomorrow at eleven o’clock and when the others arrive we can begin.”
“Do you think the others are as committed to the cause as us?”
“Why do you ask? What have they said?”
“Nothing,” said Abdul “but they are too close. This will make them weak.”
Munaf nodded. He would keep a close eye on Popeye and Olive Oyl tomorrow.
Before dawn, the two men rose and began their preparations. Their simple breakfast of a bowl of porridge with milk and one slice of toast was enough to sustain them throughout the daylight hours. Fasting during Ramadan was one of the Five Pillars of Islam, Munaf and Abdul used it as a time of self-examination and increased religious devotion. They read the Qur’an for most of the morning.
Munaf left the flat and walked the short distance to his uncle’s shop. He picked up his things and walked back to the flat. No one paid him any attention.
Abdul looked up as Munaf walked back into the flat.
“Everything we need is here now?” he asked.
Munaf nodded. He removed the contents of the bag and took great care placing them on the table. He brought the other bag from the chair and added its contents to the collection.
“We have time before the others get here. Let me tell
you about the pipe bombs we will carry.
Pipe bombs are by nature improvised weapons; the steel water pipes themselves are easy to buy. You want them no more than eight inches long and two inches in diameter. Normal metal galvanized pipes are best. The way I bought most of these materials was by buying the caps one day, then getting the pipes a few days later. Bought from a different hardware store each time to avoid suspicion.
We need to drill a small hole in the center of one cap per pipe, for the fuse.”
The fuses Munaf planned to use were electric, with wires leading to a timer and battery. Abdul viewed the components on the table with wonder. This was starting to get real!
“Once we have the holes in the caps we can attach the fuses and tape them on so they don't move. Then we screw the cap onto the pipe really tight. I’ve borrowed a vice from my uncle; he never uses it so he won’t miss it. We can use that to hold the pipe firmly to fill up the pipe.
According to the manual, I downloaded, normal firework powder works great. I bought all sorts of bangers and stuff and emptied the powder into an old Nescafe coffee jar. That was a dirty, time-consuming job. I wore oven gloves to stop my hands getting filthy. I put newspapers on the floor in case I spilled any and the landlord wondered what I’d been doing.
Once the pipe, cap, and fuse are stabilized, we can pour in the powder. I’ve got a funnel thing in the kitchen drawer. We cram as much powder and shrapnel in as physically possible in each one.”
Munaf and Abdul were so wrapped up in what they were doing that Farooq and Aaleyah were outside the flat door and knocking to be let in before they knew it.
“Hi there,” said Aaleyah “what are you guys doing?”
“Get inside and close that door,” shouted Munaf.
“Sorry,” said Aaleyah “you did say to get here for prayers at noon.”
“What was it you needed us here for anyway?” asked Farooq. His eyes widened as he took in the various items on the table.
“We have everything we need,” said Abdul “it is nearly time.”
