Project Reaper

by M. W. Fletcher

  Title Page

  PROJECT REAPER

  A Max Storm Novel

  By

  M. W. Fletcher

  Publisher Information

  Project Reaper published in 2012 by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Copyright © M.W. Fletcher 2012

  The right of M.W. Fletcher to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Bogotá Colombia South America

  Lat = 4 degrees, 39.1 minutes North

  Long = 74 degrees, 6.1 minutes West

  Monday 12th December 1988

  Fourteen hundred hours and twenty three minutes

  Local time

  It had been hammering down with rain for around an hour, with the temperature around sixty-six degrees Fahrenheit. Professor Peter Thompson was bound, gagged and hooded on a wooden chair that was not built for comfort.

  When the hood had initially been pulled down over his head he had nearly gagged, from the offensive smells given off from the hoods material, he was now becoming accustomed to this if that was at all possible.

  “How long have I been here?” he pondered.

  It seemed like forever; but could not have been more than a few hours.

  He had been walking down El Dorado Avenue when a local beggar had asked him for some change, as he reached into his pocket he had felt the sharp blade of a knife sting the skin of his left midriff. Within a second, two more men appeared and pulled a hessian bag over his head; he was dragged kicking and screaming, that is the last he remembered for one of his assailants had struck him a vicious blow to his head, rendering him unconscious.

  Peter Thompson worked for the United Kingdom’s

  Advanced Genetic Biotechnology institute and had come to Bogotá one week ago; his meeting today with a professor Carlos Alberto had been unexpectedly cancelled earlier that morning, he had felt bored sitting in his hotel and had decided to take a walk.

  Normally he had been escorted when he travelled by vehicle or foot, but today he had just wanted to walk without company and had slipped his Guardians, by taking a service elevator at the hotel and coming out a back door into the back streets, he soon found his way onto El Dorado Avenue and within minutes had been kidnapped.

  Looking back; what a stupid, stupid thing to have done, he had been repeatedly warned of the dangers to foreign nationals; hence his minders, both ex special forces guys whom had accompanied him to Bogotá from the UK at the request of the UK government. He had come to liaise with Professor Carlos Alberto to bring together some information on Genetic engineering; today was to be their last meeting before he flew home.

  Back home in the UK he had been working with the nineteen-eighty six Nobel Prize winner for chemistry Professor Winston Alexander Hooke.

  He heard a heavy door opening and felt the rush of air assail his body; something was being wheeled into the room, a few moments later his hood was briskly yanked

  from his head, the light invaded his eyes and for a few seconds everything was extremely bright and out of focus.

  As his blurred vision began to focus, he noticed a table

  with a T.V. screen and a VCR unit on it; obviously what

  had been wheeled into the room, a man appeared to his right and stood between him and the T.V. screen.

  He operated the T.V. and VCR switches and within a few moments the screen came to life, the man moved away and he was now watching a video; it showed a room with a hooded man bound to a chair, Professor Thompson quickly realised he was looking at the same room he was now in.

  The hood was removed and he was now looking at Professor Carlos Alberto.

  The man whom was now in the room pulled a chair up to Carlos, he had a metal rod in his hand, he spoke to Carlos; “I’m sure you know what this is professor.”

  Carlos nodded, “now professor; I’m going to ask you a few questions, this cattle prod will be used to ensure I have the right answers, do you understand?”

  Carlos nodded his head.

  “Excellent professor, if you are co-operative you can be out of here and back in your home within the hour, is that what you want?”

  “Yes,” replied the professor.

  “Now you have been meeting with an English professor,

  named Thompson, I have heard rumours that the English are designing some sort of genetic crop disease that will wipe out the opium plant; I want you to tell me what you

  know about it?”

  “I know nothing about this.”

  The man swiftly moved the cattle prod to the professor’s torso, Professor Alberto jerked violently causing his chair to tip back onto the floor; another man moved into view and the chair and the professor were lifted upright again.

  “This cattle prod has been modified for humans, it works at a very high voltage and low current so as to maximise pain and minimise the physical marks left on the victim. As you have just experienced professor; where it cause’s intense pain that can be repeated many times; how many times I will have to repeat this is down to you; now answer the question?”

  The professor was still shaking from the first assault on his body, “I know nothing about what you are asking,” he replied.

  The cattle prod touched his groin area; the professor let out an eerie scream and again was flung backwards onto the floor where he vomited profusely.

  Again, he was put upright in his chair, “I admire your spirit Professor; however I can assure you that you will

  talk, if necessary I am prepared to do this all night, so let’s repeat the question; tell me what you know about this genetic research?”

  The professor was now breathing heavily, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  Again, the cattle prod moved to his body, now touching his chest, the professor again cried out but this time he remained upright in his chair, he felt a massive muscle tension in the area of his chest followed by a shortness of breath, his vision began blurring and he flopped forward in the chair.

  “Quick give me some water,” the man called to his accomplice.

  He pulled the professors head up, “now don’t die on me know professor.”

  “My heart, pills in my pocket,” wheezed the professor.

  The man rummaged in the professors pockets and found the pills, the other man had brought a cup of water over, now professor answer my question and I’ll give you a pill.”

  The professor could feel himself fading, “Project Reaper,” he replied.

  “Say that again professor.”

  The professor gasped trying to take in more air, his body stiffened and he died right there.

  The T.V. was turned off; the man whom had carried out the

  torture dragged a chair over to professor Thompson and sat down in front of him, “a pity we did not know about his heart condition; however Professor Thompson as you

  can see I do not have a cattle prod with me, before you tell me about this Project Reaper I believe you have a wife and two children back home, I trust they are in good health.

  “What do you know about my family?”

  “Enough to know where they live and that we have so
me men watching them right now.”

  “You’re bluffing,” replied the professor.

  “Don’t take me for a fool Professor, I have only to pick up a phone and your family will be in harm’s way, now tell me about this Project Reaper?”

  Professor Thompson capitulated and began to talk.

  Back at the hotel, the two minders Merrick and Paterson had discovered Professor Thompson’s disappearance; they had spent an hour throwing money at people in the street to gain information as to the professor’s whereabouts, this had led to a two-storey building located on Av Calle 53.

  The front of the building had a man standing by the door, Merrick and Patterson stood down the street, observing this man.

  Merrick and Paterson were of average build, short-

  cropped hair in loose fitting local clothing; they both carried the Browning FN HP-DA double action handgun, with fourteen rounds plus one in the chamber.

  They also carried KA-BAR combat knives.

  Both men discreetly checked their weapons, Merrick turned to Patterson, “what’s the plan?”

  “No time to reconnoitre let’s take the doorman out quietly with a blade; I’ll approach him acting like I’m drunk and do him.”

  Patterson crossed the street and began walking towards the doorman, he was swaying as he neared the doorman and he deliberately fell over to, enhance the effect.

  As he neared the doorman, he spoke, “senor un cigarillo.”

  Before the doorman could react, Patterson whipped the KA-BAR out and thrust the blade into the doorman’s jugular vein, the doorman collapsed instantly.

  Merrick had run across the street and together they dragged the now dead doorman into the building.

  They closed the door and stood listening.

  They were standing in a small hallway that led down a hall to what looked like a large room with no door, to their right was a staircase to the second level, after a few minutes they heard a floor board creak on the second floor. Merrick tapped Patterson on the shoulder and using military sign language indicated they should check the

  room on the ground floor, both men moved to the walls leading down the hallway, keeping away from the middle known as the fatal funnel, they had their handguns raised

  in the high compressed ready position, arms extended and looking down the site line.

  They moved slowly to the doorway standing either side away from the fatal funnel, which in effect is like a choke point.

  Patterson indicated to go in, both men moved diagonally across the room at the same time quickly scanning over their shoulder at the corner behind them, they both expertly scanned the room using the slicing the pie routine, this requires scanning the room from floor to ceiling from a corner and quickly moving around the room.

  The room was clear; again, a sound came from directly above them, as this was the only room on the ground floor, both men made their way back to the foot of the staircase.

  Both men looked up the stairs scanning trying to clear as much as they could; the stairs went up to what appeared an open area, which appeared to be the access to any rooms up there.

  Both men began to ascend the stairs, keeping their backs to the walls, as they neared the top they had to clear

  the overlook; Merrick moved out to do this while Patterson covered him. Merrick gave the thumbs up sign and both men moved to the landing area, there were two

  closed doors on the landing one to the right and the

  other further down on the left.

  Both men moved to the first door standing either side of it, Merrick pressed his ears to the door and could just make out two men talking, one of which he was sure was the professors voice.

  Patterson had moved to the other closed door and had heard nothing he tried the door handle using the soft check method, it was locked.

  He returned to Merrick whom confirmed that their man was behind this door.

  They both noticed the door hinges were for the door to open inwards, Merrick brought his gun to the close contact firing position he had his right arm at right angles close to his side. With his weapon pointing towards the door which would allow him to shoot a target less than five feet away; he reached down to the door handle, he soft checked it and felt it turn. Both men had spent many years practicing this routine, Patterson had his weapon held in a double grip, both arms extended pointing downwards.

  Merrick pushed the door open brusquely ensuring it

  swung all the way round on its hinges, Merrick observed one man standing to the right of the other two, the second man was seated facing the door, in the middle of

  the two men was their man seated and bound.

  The standing man turned raising his gun and at the same time Merrick brought his weapon up extending both arms to the straight line, firing position and double tapped the trigger; the turning man took both bullets to the torso, but managed to squeeze a shot of as he was turning. The round hit Professor Thompson knocking him of the chair, the seated man had reacted very quick moving to an open door at the back of the room, just as Patterson drew a bead on him sending two rounds towards him. The man lunged forward into the back room performing a gambol with the two rounds whistling over his body, as he came back up he sprinted out the buildings rear door onto the roof top, disappearing rapidly over the adjacent roof tops before Patterson had emerged from the exit door.

  Merrick was down beside the professor, he was bleeding profusely from the gunshot wound in his stomach, Patterson came back, “he got away, how’s the Prof doing?”

  Merrick looked up at him and shook his head, “he took the wound in the gut.”

  The professor was trying to speak, Merrick leaned closer, “save your breath professor, help will be here soon.”

  Professor Thompson summoned his last remaining strength grabbing Merrick’s jacked, he gasped, “Project Reaper they know,” collapsing he loosened his grip his last lung full of air was exhaled, he died right there on the

  floor in a faraway country and far away from his family.

  Patterson came forward, “what did he just say?”

  “Project Reaper they know, what the hell was the professor into?” Responded Merrick.

  Patterson came back with, “we need to get his body to the British embassy before this mess is discovered.”

  Right replied Merrick; “you wait here I’ll get our wheels, see what you can find on the guy I killed.”

  FIBUA Village Eastmere

  Norfolk

  Lat = 52 degrees, 32.3 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 47.3 minutes East

  Tuesday 13th December 1988

  Fifteen forty four hours GMT

  The air was reeking with smoke mixed with the odour of cordite that you could taste as it drifted across the village, the sounds of controlled burst of automatic fire mingled in with these smells.

  Lieutenant Colonel Max Storm code name eagle three and Major General Mick Strayker code name eagle two, were watching their Operational Strike Command (OSC), teams engaged in exercises designed for fighting in built up urban areas (FIBUA) at the newly built urban warfare mock up at Eastmere village.

  Urban warfare is combat conducted in urban areas such as towns and cities. It is very different from combat in the open at both the operational and tactical level.

  Additional complicating factors arise in urban warfare

  that include the indigenous civilian population, some of these civilians may be difficult to distinguish from enemy.

  Also the complexity of the environment, which makes

  tactics more complex, as this environment, will become

  three-dimensional, creating limited fields of view and fire because of buildings.

  Enhanced concealment and cover for the enemy, below ground infrastructures, along w
ith the ease of placement of booby-traps and sniper positions.

  Eastmere Village itself comprises of twenty-two purpose built houses, within the village confines there were a lot of natural features including, wooded areas and undulating terrain along with quite a lot of manmade features like, trench systems, large and small impact craters, tanks and armoured personal carriers.

  The OSC had been formed earlier this year after Strayker had approached the Prime Minister with a highly confidential report titled to unleash a force.

  Their sphere of activity was to conduct short duration strikes and other small-scale offensive actions to inflict maximum damage and harm on designated personnel and materials, and where necessary rescuing our fellow compatriots when they fell into harm’s way, their remit was worldwide.

  The bottom line is any terrorist organization that threatenes the safety of the British Isles, peoples,

  assets or its colonies will be hunted down and dealt with

  no courts and no juries.

  A group was assembled consisting of the heads of MI5, the

  Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) and the heads of the three armed services, code name Everest.

  The OSC had already been deployed on three missions this year, culminating in the elimination of a rogue terrorist and his followers.

  The unit had taken some losses from these missions in battles on the streets of the country’s capital London.

  New men had been inducted from top military units to replace the losses; they had completed their arduous training and were now working alongside their comrades at this newly commissioned FIBUA village, honing their urban warfare skills.

  Strayker lowered his binoculars; “the men are proving themselves well against their opponents Max.”

  “The Para’s are giving them a hard time sir, but are no match for the OSC teams.”

  “It was a good idea from the head of the armed forces to allow us to try out this new establishment before it goes live in the New Year, it will prove a valuable resource Max.”

  Max looked down at his watch, fifteen forty-six hours and it was already becoming dark, “time to call it a day sir.”