by Alex Shaw
Movement from his right. Another X-Ray, this one using the houses for cover, was heading his way. Both men fired, Fox ducked again and looked at the girl. She was shaking beneath him. He took a breath and sprung back up. He let off a single shot at the target. The man was moving now back towards the car as the driver was shouting at him wildly. Another target came into view blocking his line of fire to the retreating car; this figure was wearing a dark blue shirt and was racing directly towards the Z4. Taking a millisecond to decide, Fox fired a round into the man’s back.
The second car spun its wheels in a ‘J turn’ and screeched away. Fox, out of rounds, had no time to grab another weapon as he tried to catch the number plate. All around he saw curtains twitching. Two teenagers wearing hoodies were standing stunned next to their mini motos, holding up mobile phones, videoing the whole event. On seeing Fox now staring at them, they both ‘legged it’, carrying their toy bikes.
Fox bent down and pulled the girl to her feet, he spoke to her in Arabic. “You’re safe now. I’m going to take the tape off.”
The girl let out a moan of pain as the tape was removed then started to sob as he undid her bonds. She was about seventeen and beautiful, she held her hands to her face.
“Come with me.” Fox reached out gently and took her by the arm. He walked her up his neighbour’s path. Reynolds opened the door, a shocked expression on his face. Fox pushed the girl at him.
“Jim, look after her.”
Without waiting for a reply Fox moved back to the street and, bending down, checked the nearest X-Ray for a pulse. There was none, he kicked the assault weapon away to the side of the road and then moved towards the man with the dark blue shirt, his former boss Leo Sawyer. The sales director lay on his back, his eyes open, his breathing laboured. Fox’s single round had ripped through him, puncturing a lung. Fox aimed the empty weapon at Sawyer’s head and let him hear the dead man’s click.
Fox felt no remorse; the man had tried to screw him and had screwed his wife. It had been a split second, but a conscious decision, his anger and the urge for revenge had manifested itself in the single bullet. He cared neither way if Sawyer lived or died.
Fox didn’t need to check on the two X-Rays in the car – he had drilled them at point blank range, half their skulls were missing. He knew they were dead.
Fox took out his mobile and dialled 999. The operator confirmed his mobile number and asked him which service he required, then transferred him. Before he could speak he heard sirens nearing. Fox sat on the curb and waited to be arrested. He had once again demonstrated to the world that he was only good at one thing – killing.
TWO
Presidential Dacha. Minsk Region, Belarus
Dark hair patted down, burgundy tie, crisp white shirt and dark blue suit. Sverov admired himself in the mirror. It was important that he make the right impression, he was after all going to be the first ever Head of the Belarusian Intelligence Service – the KGB to be interviewed by the BBC.
When the BBC had contacted him via the embassy, his initial reaction had been to refuse the journalist an entry visa into the country. However, after a moments thought, he decided that the potential positive publicity would greatly help the image of Belarus. So he replied yes and had got his hands on the most recent reports filed by the same journalist to check his credibility.
It was going to be a full half an hour interview for the BBC World programme ‘Hard Talk’ Extra. Sverov had read with much interest the list of former interviewers, some he greatly admired others he would have shot on sight if they ever entered his country. He had advised the President of the benefits that this interview would bring and then made him believe that it had been his own idea all along. Megalomaniacs like the president, although he would never admit the leader was one, were easy to manipulate.
Sverov exited the bathroom in the Presidential dacha and took his seat in the study. The BBC make up girl had already applied his, something that he found effeminate but a necessary evil. The sound recorder clipped a microphone to his lapel, a ‘back up’ he had said to the furry grey sound boom suspended out of shot above his head. The BBC journalist, Simon White lived up to his name. He was possibly the pastiest individual Sverov had ever met. His thin frame actually looked bigger on screen but his eyes had a dark intensity.
Sverov had demanded a list of questions a month before and would not answer any new ones unless they be faxed and agreed. Sverov spoke in his own opinion ‘good English’ but said that for the actual interview he would feel more ‘comfortable’ speaking in Belarusian. The producer had however asked if the interview could be in English, as this was the style of the ‘Hard Talk’ series. Sverov accepted reasoning that to ‘woo the West’ one must speak their language. For the past month Sverov had been practicing with the KGB language instructors. His English was more than ‘good’, he was in fact fluent, but only ‘good’ in his opinion because he could not pass for a native speaker. He still had an accent and sometimes paused to find the most appropriate words. His was just ‘good’.
As the crew readied themselves, Sverov noted White’s professionalism, a trait which was lacking in all Belarusian journalists. This was with the exception of those, of course, who worked for the state owned Golas Radzimy - Voice of the Motherland and Narodnaja Volya - The People’s Will, he did not need to add. The BBC crew were ready, he was told to start taping the interview. Sverov nodded and composed himself. Sverov knew in which order the questions were to be asked and had already rehearsed his replies but was still sweating and not because of the harsh TV lights. The director gave the cue and White started with his piece to camera.
“Speaking in 2005 the then United States Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice, identified six "outposts of tyranny" around the world. These were Cuba, Iran, Burma, North Korea, Zimbabwe and Belarus. My guest today is someone who was not at all happy with this statement. Ivan Sverov, Director of the Belarusian State Security Service, the KGB. Director Sverov. Thank you for agreeing to speak to Hard Talk.”
Sverov nodded. He ‘was not happy’ with the introduction but had his prepared response to it - the Americans would turn red.
“Thank you for the opportunity to let me correct the lies perpetuated about my country by the former Bush administration.”
The reply was what White expected. “If I may start with what has been said about your President. He has been accused, allegedly, of crushing dissent, persecuting the independent media, political opposition, and rigging elections. “
Sverov frowned. “By whom? Certainly not credible governments. President Lukachev has led Belarus for more than fifteen years. He has given us more than fifteen years of stability. Can any of our former Soviet neighbours boast that? Indeed, President Lukachev came to power on his promise to ‘stop the mafia’, to root out corruption in the former government. To make accusations of illegal activity against the President is a nonsense!”
Although impressed by the formality of his interviewee’s English, White cut in. “What about Secretary of State Rice’s comment labelling Belarus as an outpost of tyranny?”
“Secretary Rice's assessment was very far from reality. We invited her to see our country for herself. These completely false stereotypes and prejudices were a poor basis for the formation of effective policy in the sphere of foreign relations. On behalf of my government, I would like to invite her successor, Mrs Clinton, to visit. Now let us look at the word ‘tyrant. What is a tyrant? A tyrant is an individual holding power through a state, a ruler who places the interests of a small group over the interests of others. In this content President Lukachev has placed the interests of the Belarusian people over the interests of the rest of the world. Let us look at the original meaning of a tyrant. In ancient Greece, tyrants were those who had gained power by getting the support of the poor by giving them land and freeing them from servitude or slavery. The word ‘tyrant’ simply referred to those who overturned the established government through the use of popular support. Pres
ident Lukachev has the popular support. Secretary Rice did not choose her words with care. Perhaps she did not fully understand them?” Sverov folded his arms. He was very pleased with that reply, especially the word play.
White was not perturbed. “If I may? The 2007 referendum, which the President won, allowing him to run for a third term, was criticised for being rigged.”
Sverov shook his head in disbelief. “Observers were present and they say to the contrary.”
Sverov continued to set out the policy of the Belarusian government and their hope for a wider cooperation with Europe.
White nodded. He was no fool. He had seen the information on the subsequent demonstrations in Minsk, which were violently dispersed by heavy-handed riot police. “Why did ‘The Committee to Protect Journalists’ describe Belarus as one of the ten ‘worst places to be a journalist’?
“Again this is based on lies. Let us look at the facts. Since 1994, the President has doubled the minimum wage and combated inflation by reintroducing state control of prices. Is this a bad place to be?”
“Freedom of the press, is that not important?”
“All freedom is important. My purpose is to preserve freedom. The state security services exist to preserve freedom.”
White didn’t give up. “So why is there no independent press or media in Belarus?”
Sverov tried not to show his anger, the journalist was attempting to lead the interview away from the agreed parameters. Perhaps he had been too hasty to judge White as different from the activists who attempted to attack his government and their achievements? He calmed himself and answered the question.
“We welcome the media in Belarus, you are evidence of this. Our book publishing industry is another example of this. It is thriving, and we export many Russian language books to other CIS states.”
White looked at his notes for a moment, the answer had been as expected - evasive. No mention had been made of the many independent newspapers forced to close due to ‘bureaucratic irregularities’, including failure to keep to a regular publication dates. He tried a different tact. “Is it not true that the problem’ in Belarus…”
“Problem!” Sverov had started to lose his composure.
“If I may continue? The ‘problem’ is not official censorship, which is explicitly forbidden by your national constitution, but the volume of legislation used to curtail freedom of expression and silence internal dissent?”
Sverov fixed the journalist in the eye, a move that the camera did not miss. “Such as?”
“‘Discrediting Belarus abroad’ and ‘Insulting the President’. These are criminal offences punishable by up to two and five years in jail respectively.”
“Yes they are.” The KGB director nodded. “These laws protect the reputation and good standing of our country.”
White tried to come in “But…”
Sverov held up his hand. “If I may finish? Let me cite one of your ‘own’ UK laws, ‘Incitement to Racial Hatred’. This law makes it illegal to: ‘deliberately provoke hatred of a racial group by distributing racist material to the public or making inflammatory public speeches, creating racist websites, inciting inflammatory rumours about an individual or an ethnic group, for the purpose of spreading racial discontent.”
There was a pause, Sverov was happy he had remembered the lines word for word. “This is exactly what our laws protect against. Inciting racial hatred against Belarus and its President.”
“But these laws are being interpreted in a very sweeping manner. Take for instance the case of Mikolai Markevich, the editor of the ‘Den’ newspaper. He was sentenced to eighteen months forced labour in 2002 for allegedly insulting President Lukachev…”
Sverov leaned forward in his seat. “Our laws dictate that for national security reasons I cannot comment on individual cases.”
“But would you like to hear what Mr Markevich himself had to say on the matter?”
“I do not think that your audience would want to hear the ranting of a convicted criminal.”
Sverov was on the brink of cancelling the interview, but feared the repercussions from the President. He had started well, made some good persuasive points and now had to ensure that he continued in the same manner. White was not going to make him look small or weak.
White pursed his lips before continuing. “The EU has shut its doors to you. Are you not the lonely man of Europe?”
“Since 1998 we have been an active member of the Non Aligned Movement, which has some 116 member states. This is the majority of the world community. Belarus as a NAM member state is not alone. Belarus has an active economy. We export more than 55% of our gross national product and 80% of our industrial production. There are not many countries in the world with the same coefficients of the export share. By ‘shutting the door’, the EU is losing a huge amount of trade with us. Therefore, whilst I would favour that Belarus work closer with EU member states, I believe we would not have much to gain by becoming a member, rather that the EU would gain more.”
“Surely you can’t mean that?” White was surprised. This response had been tantamount to Belarus turning her back on the EU.
“Belarus is fortunate. We have old friends, such as Russia and Ukraine, new friends such as the other NAM member states and those whom we are not averse to becoming acquainted with, the EU and the US. However, we are perfectly happy at the moment and certainly not ‘lonely’. How would you say, ‘our dance card is full’?”
“What about the standard of living in Belarus, is it not lower than in the west?”
“By what measure, the number of US imported goods?” Sverov shook his head and smiled, in what he thought was a scholarly manner. “Let us look at the findings of the ‘Save the Children’ report, which compared 167 countries. Belarus has the highest rating for the quality of life for women and children among all countries in the former Soviet Union. This is higher even, than the new EU member states. Belarus is the leader in the post-Soviet era in the production and supply of agricultural goods per person, the GNP share for education and the share of students of further education among the population. Belarus exceeds all CIS states in the generalised index of human development calculated by the UN. How can we have a ‘lower standard of living?’ Is the UN incorrect?”
White nodded. The Belarusian had an answer for everything which would make for amusing, if not politically astute, television. He wanted to move the interview on. He would ask about tourism next, then bring up the government ban on certain ‘rock groups’ performing in Belarus.
The interview over, the sound man removed the mike and thanked the Belarusian. Sverov stared at White, who was exchanging words with his unit director. They had far more people that he had suspected to record this programme but then they were the BBC, so he surmised must be experts at what they did.
Riyadh. Kingdom of Saudi Arabia
Fouad Al Kabir held his diamond encrusted Vertu mobile phone in his right hand and counted his worry beads with his left. The call had come directly from the Saudi Ambassador, his brother, in London. His eldest daughter Jinan was safe! Al Kabir gazed out over the city from his high office window and thanked Allah for his daughter’s deliverance.
“But what of those who took her?” They had to be punished.
“Two escaped, the rest are dead.” Replied Umar Al Kabir.
“You are certain that she is not in danger?” The younger brother wanted the elder’s reassurance.
“Fouad, it was Jinan who called me herself.”
The sun reflected heavily off of the window as it set in the desert sky, a mixture of reds and gold filled the room. Fouad finally let himself relax as Umar relayed what Jinan had told him about how she had been snatched from school and how the man had come from nowhere and saved her.
“This is a man of honour brother. He must be rewarded.”
“I agree.” Replied, the ambassador.
“Where is my daughter now?”
“She is safe. I will personall
y collect her brother, as her uncle I will not leave that to another. I will be with her in an hour.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me brother, we are family.”
Flanked by two large bodyguards on each side, Umar Al Kabir entered his diplomatic Mercedes and ordered the driver to head for Brighton as fast as he could. They would pay no head to speed limits, enforcement cameras or traffic police. There had been an attempted kidnapping on a member of the Saudi Royal family! Sitting comfortably in his leather seat, Umar Al Kabir dialled a Whitehall number that very few people had, and was immediately connected to the British Home Secretary.
“Robert this is Umar. I have some strange and worrying news to tell you. Someone has tried to kidnap my niece.”
Paddington Green Secure Police Station, London
Left alone in the cell whilst his details were checked, Fox tried to make sense of the day’s events. He had killed three men, wounded a fourth, saved a child and ended his marriage all in the space of a minute. The Police had arrived and cordoned off the street forming a barrier. Arms raised, above his head, Fox had approached them and given the description of the remaining X-Rays and the Mondeo. However, they seemed more concerned with arresting him, the man responsible for the bodies on the ground. Now, three hours later, he sat in the secure police station being treated like a criminal.
His thoughts again wondered to Sawyer as he relived the scene in his head. Fox had seen the man’s face, had recognised him, and, in that moment, all his anger, all his frustration had shot down his arm to his trigger finger. It was not an accident; it had been a conscious decision. However, that would not be simple to prove. Sawyer had been in the way – in his line of sight during a fire-fight and was an unfortunate victim of ‘cross fire’.
