Light of the Sun: They always make a mistake and when they do, we kill them...

by David Costa

  ‘Well, what do you think David?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve been in worse places.’

  ‘There’s two single beds on the next floor if we need to get some sleep.’

  Anna took out her file once more and placed it on the table.

  ‘I suggest we get comfortable and use our time to familiarise ourselves with all the information we have. The ship which is called the Qom is expected to dock around 5 p.m. and our satellites are confirming it’s on schedule. It is basically a small container ship sailing between ports in the Mediterranean dropping off and picking up foreign cars. As we already know Shafi is coming to meet up with a contact to pass on what we believe is a small amount of plutonium, which has been manufactured in Iran against the wishes of the international community. Our job is to identify that contact and await further instructions. He will be protected by his Hezbollah bodyguard friends; at least four of them.’

  ‘I’m still a little confused,’ said Simons. ‘Why Malta, why here?’

  This time it was Palo who answered.

  ‘Malta has always been close to Africa and the Middle East by its proximity to these countries. Hezbollah and Islamic Jihad have always done the dirty work for Iran, and we know in the past they have had some support here in Malta from a few who are not active but willing to provide somewhere for the terrorist masters and their operators to rest up between operations. The Islamic Jihad know this island as one where the security is weak and not likely to interfere with them. Another reason why Colonel Shafi will meet the contact here, believe it or not, is that he has a fear of flying and this ship voyage suits his purpose to carry out his side of the plan away from the prying eyes and ears of the CIA and our own services. Malta also has good travel links with the rest of Europe allowing his contact to move quickly from one place to another.’

  Once more Anna reached into her bag and took out two Motorola wireless handsets.

  ‘These are set to a secure frequency just for our use, so keep them on button number two at all times. They are fully charged, and we can recharge them here using that standard plug and cable beside the kettle.’

  Reece had noticed the cable when he was checking out the room.

  ‘How do you want to cover this,’ asked Reece, ‘we can’t all sit looking out the window?’

  Anna smiled and once more Reece noticed how beautiful this woman was. If Mary could see her now, thought Reece, she would be worried. But Reece decided to put on his professional head as he always did in this sort of situation.

  ‘I’m sure we don’t have to teach you anything when it comes to surveillance in any operation. We know about Manchester, how you and your team tracked the terrorists and dealt with them,’ she replied.

  ‘Then you must also know we lost some people there. People who meant a lot to me. We also know how the Kidon operate and your professionalism in dealing with your enemies. I always think of surveillance in percentages, 90 per cent filled with adrenaline and concentration, 5 per cent boredom and 5 per cent terror, keep thinking that way and we will be OK. So, I suggest we cover this from two fronts. Once the ship docks, we each take turns in the car with one of the radios. The person in the car ready to drive out here on the main road and pick one of us up if our target uses a car or taxi. Two of us can observe from here with the other radio and one of us can rest. If he leaves on foot then we have three of us here who can follow. If it drags out, we can all switch places at intervals, so we all get a chance to rest. What happens after that, is down to the target. Whatever he does will dictate what we do.’

  ‘Exactly as we would do it David, but hopefully not so much terror,’ said Anna.

  ‘As we’ve all been briefed and shown this Colonel’s file, I think we need to consider the dangers here,’ said Simons.

  ‘The dangers, can you be more specific?’ asked Anna.

  Reece nodded for Matthew to continue, and he looked back to Anna and Palo to see if they reacted in anyway.

  ‘The file and the intelligence we have shows us that this Colonel has a lot to do with the Iranian secret nuclear programme. The information that he may have travelled from Iran with a small amount of plutonium which he intends to hand over to a yet unknown person with connections to an Islamic terrorist cell can mean two things. One, this has been sanctioned by the Iranian leadership and two if I have any experience on how they work they intend it to be used by this terrorist cell in a deniable operation against the West.’

  ‘I think we are all in agreement so far Matthew, so what happens now?’ asked Anna.

  ‘If he hands over the plutonium successfully that is his job completed, we let him go home. But in what form is the plutonium, how will he deliver it, and can we confirm he has it? There are so many questions that need answers.’

  Again, it was Anna who spoke as she reached into her bag once more and produced a handheld device similar in appearance and size to that of an electric stunning device.

  ‘You have answered your own questions. This little device has been invented by our boffins as you would call them. It can be carried discreetly, and it will register if plutonium is within a ten-meter radius. Yes, I can see you are thinking that means we will have to get close to this Iranian or his contact to confirm the presence of the plutonium. This is where our close surveillance comes in. It will have to be accurate and done in a way where we don’t expose ourselves.’

  Anna took out one more small package from her bag.

  ‘These are ears mics, all fully charged and linked up to each other. When in your ear they will pick up the radios and we can speak discreetly.

  ‘I suggest we use these when we are following or close to the target. Do you know how to use them?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Reece.

  ‘Can I suggest we keep the call signs simple,’ said Anna.

  ‘I’ll be Alpha One, Palo Two, David Three, and Matthew Four. Are we all OK with that?’

  They all nodded in return and proceeded to place the devices in their ears.

  ‘You seem to have it covered,’ said Reece, ‘Can I suggest we relax for a bit before this ship docks, then Matthew or Palo can take the car and park up ready to pick us up if needed? I do not think this Iranian will want to hang about too long with a package of nuclear poison. He will want to hand it over and get out of here as quickly as possible. For all we know this could all be done by tomorrow; then we can all go home and get back to living our lives again.’

  Anna smiled. ‘We will be lucky if it’s that easy. Let us hope so. The ship should be docking in the next few hours. I think we are ready, let us see where this Colonel leads us.’

  Chapter 13

  Before the Qom, with its cargo of cars and the Iranian Colonel and his Hezbollah minders, had entered through the entrance to the Grand Harbour at Malta, the Arab had watched as his two students were picked up by Kalil and transported to the Imam Khomeini International Airport in Tehran. Now the plan he had agreed with the Iranian General in the Bazaar was underway, he felt more relaxed; the wheels were moving. His own part in the plan would begin in two days and he was ready.

  Hassan had the easier journey to begin with, a direct flight to Paris. The airport security in France was extremely tight, and for one moment he thought his documents wouldn’t stand up, the only luggage he had was a shoulder backpack. He would spend no more than two days in Paris as a tourist before moving on to London. He only stayed one night in a city centre hotel. He found he didn’t like Paris; it was too decadent, too noisy. The next day before catching the Euro Star from the Gare du Nord train station to London St Pancras, he followed the briefing from the Arab, wiping all fingerprints in his hotel room before making his way to catch the afternoon train. Travelling this way was to avoid the far stricter security at the British airports. It was the first time he had used the Eurostar, and even though the journey took two hours and fifteen minutes, at speeds of up to 186 mph, he was able to enjoy the whole trip feeling more relaxed than he had done for months.

/>   The Arab had been right. The security at both stations was relaxed and Hassan, still using the excellent false documents he carried, passed through the checks without problem. Following his instructions, he caught a taxi outside St Pancras and told the driver to take him to the home of Arsenal Football Club and the Emirates stadium in North London. The driver was a Chelsea fan, so Hassan was glad to have a conversation about the past successes of the two clubs, as his knowledge of the current teams was little. He paid the driver and walked up the steep steps at the front of the stadium, then a complete circumference of the whole building bringing him to the statue of Thierry Henry the famous Arsenal footballer. He sat down next to the statue and took his time observing his surroundings. Hassan then spent the next hour walking through the streets and roads using the anti-surveillance techniques he had been taught while in Iran. To the experienced eye he knew these would be spotted as basic, but nevertheless he would do his best to try to ensure he was alone in his travels. Although it was dry, and the sky was grey, he could feel the cold more than usual. He had been away too long in the warmth of the Middle East, and he had forgotten how different the climate was in England. He stopped to put on a sweater under his coat then found a coffee shop on the main Rock Street within walking distance of the Finsbury Park Mosque off St Thomas Road, his next destination for the day. As he settled down to a coffee and a sandwich, he felt good that he had almost completed the first part of his plan and he was happy that he was not under surveillance. The Arab would be pleased with his student, but he had warned Hassan that when he approached the Mosque, he would be under British anti-terrorist surveillance, as the Mosque had a history of involvement in the cause of the Islamic Jihad. He told Hassan to wear his shemagh scarf over his face on the roads approaching the Mosque until he was inside the building and again when he was leaving. He had timed his walk around the area and now a visit to a café to ensure that the time of day would see the sun start to go down and the light start to fall, making it more difficult for any observer to be certain about faces and descriptions.

  When he left the café, he pulled the black and white shemagh from his backpack, putting it on, he made sure it covered most of his face with only his brown eyes showing and satisfied after one more full visual sweep of the road, he walked in the direction he wanted to go getting closer to the Mosque. In that area of the city, which had a large Muslim community, full face coverings were not unusual. Twenty minutes later he turned into St Thomas Road. He had gone over the maps with his teacher many times and now he was pleased that he had been a good student. His teacher would also be pleased, that not only had he listened, but he had put into practice what he had been taught. As he walked towards the building he watched for the spots where, if he were to carry out surveillance on the Mosque, he would place people to monitor the coming and going, recording vehicles and people. He knew it would be difficult for security agencies to operate in the vicinity of the Mosque as local people were mostly attendees and would expose any such surveillance if spotted. The building itself was not a distinctive construction; with a central Minaret and side windows which made the red bricked building look, from the outside, like a small block of apartments. The Mosque had a particularly significant history in the Islamic world. It had been a hotbed of insurrection and intrigue in promotion and support for the various Islamic causes and groups around the world. The British government, who had been monitoring the activities at the Mosque for many years, and its then Imam, a radical preacher Abu Hamza al-Masri, put pressure on the trustees to have the Mosque closed following an anti-terrorist raid. Although it was reopened in 2005, the British security services still considered it a place of interest in the war against the world terrorist threat. He knew from his own time in London that the building was more than adequate for what it needed to do, spreading the word of the one true faith. Hassan kept up his anti-surveillance and the only thing that aroused his suspicion was a Transit van at the top of St Thomas Road. The van at first glance appeared empty but was positioned in such a way that anyone in the back of the van could observe out of the rear windows, which were blacked out giving them a clear view of anyone walking down the road but not entering the building which was to the side of the van. Hassan walked past the van, paying it no specific attention, up the steps and entered through the main Mosque doors which opened to his touch. In the main entrance hall, he removed his shoes and stood to face a young man who approached him from a side room.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I’m here to speak with the Imam Mohammed AAyan. He is expecting me.’

  ‘Who shall I say?’

  ‘Tell him the one he has been expecting from the East.’

  The young man appeared puzzled at the answer but replied ‘Please wait here,’ before going through the two large doors in the centre of the hallway.

  Hassan dropped his backpack on the floor and keeping his face covered waited for only a few minutes before the large doors were opened once more. This time the man facing him was familiar to him from the media pictures he had seen.

  Mohammed AAyan stood just over six-foot-tall with a long grey beard that still showed some of the black it had once been. His build was bulky, fat mixed with muscle, he was wearing a full-length shirt with a brown three-quarter length waistcoat. Half of his large face seemed to be covered by what Hassan could only think were cheap, black, thick lens NHS glasses.

  ‘So, my brother you have come from the East. If so, you have a message for me,’ he said through a smile that showed a full set of perfect teeth.

  Hassan looked around for others but there was no one else.

  ‘We are alone my brother; you can speak freely.’

  ‘Our friend in Iran sends his best wishes and says the time has arrived for you to help him.’

  AAyan reached out his arms and placing them around Hassan’s shoulders with one arm and picking up the backpack with the other guided him to the side room the young man had originally came out of.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for this day. Let us relax in here.’ He showed the way to a small, empty office containing two large leather armchairs, a smart flat screen TV on a stand in the corner and a large prayer mat. There were no pictures on the cream-coloured walls only a large mirror.

  As they both sat AAyan spoke again.

  ‘Do not worry brother. Here we can talk freely. I have this room swept for electronic devices every morning.’

  ‘Thank you for seeing me. I have a message here,’ said Hassan as he removed a memory-stick from the zipped pocket in his jacket.

  AAyan took the device and inserted it into the side socket on the TV, which he switched on. Taking the remote he found the information he needed and pressed play.

  Almost immediately the face of the Arab appeared on the screen and his voice in English was loud and clear.

  ‘My brother, thank you for helping us in the name of the one true god that is Allah. My brother Hassan who carries this message is just the first of what will be many soldiers in this war around the world against the enemies of our people. He has his mission for now, the details of which you do not need to know. This will not only protect him and those who come after him, but you also. As they say, what you do not know you cannot tell. For now, he’ll explain to you what help you can give. Please give that help with my appreciation. I’ll be in touch in person very soon. Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar.’

  The screen went blank, the voice and picture gone.

  ‘So, Hassan can I get you some tea, some coffee?’

  ‘No thank you. I’ve been travelling all day and I need to rest. This is where I need your help.’

  ‘Whatever you need in the name of Allah I will help.’

  ‘For now, two things. Somewhere to stay that will accommodate up to four people safely.’

  ‘And the second.’

  ‘A secure burner phone number where I can reach you at any time.’

  AAyan stood and moving to the mirror he pulled it from one side to reveal it wa
s attached to the wall by a set of hinges. Opening a cavity behind it he removed a small Nokia mobile phone. And some keys and a piece of typed paper. Then closing the cavity and swinging the mirror back in place it became what it was minutes before, just a mirror.

  Hassan was a little surprised and noticed that AAyan was smiling when he sat back in the chair once more.

  ‘As you can see, we too have our secrets.’

  ‘Indeed,’ replied Hassan.

  ‘These are the keys for just such a safe place, a flat on the Edgware Road. It’s an apartment on two floors above a barber shop, the details and the secure number for this phone are on the document. I’ll keep the phone on me from now on. I suggest you study them and destroy the paper when you’re sure you know the address and the number. Now, be careful when you leave. I’m sure you noticed the Transit van across the road. It belongs to the British Security Services, and they’ll have taken your photo when you came in.’

  ‘I wore my face covering.’

  ‘Good. Do the same when you leave. I do not think their finance is able to stretch to have a permanent surveillance team to cover this building, but we cannot be totally sure, so take whatever precautions you can when you leave. Use the Underground whenever you can as they struggle to follow our people through that system.’

  Hassan stood to leave.