by John Kerr
As they left Jake suddenly realised where he had seen them. The van… he remembered the van at the old cottage on Elfin Moor. What the hell were they doing here? It must have taken them a couple of hours to drive here - what were they after? Jake looked out of the side door and saw them load what looked like large bags into the back of the van. About a dozen in all…
’Gardeners…don’t think so somehow,’ Jake said to himself,… ‘Strange!’ The young man from the back of the van was the face he had seen when he looked through the window at the back of the cottage. He had been the only one standing up and that is why his face had stuck in Jake’s head. Was it only a coincidence that there they were in a garden centre fifty-odd miles from the place they were staying? Was it a coincidence that they didn’t look like they could pot a plant? They were definitely out of place here… to Jake they stuck out like a sore thumb. They didn’t belong here, and, as they drove up the small incline and turned right onto the main road and out of sight, Jake had an uneasy feeling about them. ‘I wonder if that’s the last time I’m going to see you guys,’ he asked himself. Outside, the cold hung in the air and it sent a shiver down Jake’s back. He could see that the tops of the surrounding hills were covered in a thin blanket of snow. Inactivity always made Jake feel cold and his joints stiffened as the freezing frost seeped into his bones. Jake gulped a large breath of air and it stung the back of his throat. Hanging about like this drove him mad. He wanted to be doing something, not just looking at pot plants. Jake spun round to see Vicky, her arms full, coming out of the doors. It snapped him back from his thoughts and he immediately jumped to her aid.
‘Have you got enough there?’ Jake asked in a slightly patronising voice.
‘Grab it, quick!’ Vicky shouted, as the pot slipped from her grasp. Jake caught it only centimetres from total destruction.
‘Well held,’ she said.
‘Yeah, it’s all in the training,’ Jake replied. Vicky looked at him, knowing he would say little more, and once again their little game began.
‘Tell me about it,’ she said.
‘Tell you about what?’ He looked at her with eyes that she knew would reveal nothing.
‘The army. What was it like? What did you do?’ She knew she was wasting her breath but asked anyway.
‘It was boring, you wouldn’t want to know,’ Jake replied.
‘Let’s get this gear put away and I’ll take you for a bite to eat,’ he said, changing the subject like a professional.
‘Yeah, why not?’ Vicky gave up as she always did and let it slip from her mind. As they headed home, with Jake driving, she put her hand in his and squeezed lightly.
‘Love you,’ she whispered. He glanced at her.
‘Me too.’
TWENTY-TWO
It was Monday afternoon; Jake had just finished work and was walking home. It was only three miles and he usually did it in half an hour. It was dry but overcast and the streets were quiet except for a few children coming out of the school gates. Jake’s head was full of thoughts of nothing; sometimes that was just the way he liked it. He felt good and everything seemed perfect. Jake got to the tree line just before the bridge when he first spotted the silver car sitting outside his home, and it made him feel uneasy. Vicky would be working in the bank for another couple of hours so it couldn’t be for her. Jake turned the corner and only then could he make out the two figures. The car was facing away from him but he knew the driver would see him in his mirror… His pace didn’t drop. Jake was only fifty paces from the car when he saw the brake lights go on. Shit, the engine was running, it did not look good. … Closer… Closer…Closer. Jake rolled his fingers into a tight ball and wrapped his thumbs over his clenched fists. Whatever was about to happen he was more than ready. Fist fights he could do far better than most. It had been a while, like riding a bicycle, although, he had never actually fallen off. Suddenly he was at the back of the vehicle and both doors opened simultaneously. His heart raced and then almost immediately he felt relief flood over him as there in front of him stood Major Grant.
‘Hello Jake,’ he said, stretching out his hand. Jake gripped his old boss’s hand and snarled,
‘Fuck, sir… don’t do that!’ They hugged and it was a hug between old buddies as well as ex-workmates. Jake glanced at the second man and then looked at his old Major.
‘This is Captain Peter Soutar. He’s just joined us from the Scots Guards.’ Peter, now round the car, had his arm outstretched.
‘Sir,’ Jake said, taking the Captain’s hand and shaking it firmly.
‘Very pleased to meet you, Sergeant Silverman,’ he replied.
‘Retired, sir…Retired,’ Jake said quickly, as he looked at Grant. ‘He knows nothing, Jake. Can we talk? It’s very important.’
‘Not here,’ Jake answered.
‘She may be back soon. She knows nothing about my past and I don’t want her finding out,’ he said, as the three men jumped into the car.
Peter pulled the car out onto the main road and headed to the pub at the edge of town. As he drove, he listened as the two friends in the back told each other how life had treated them both in the last couple of years. Grant paused, drew a long breath and thought for a moment as the short preamble came to an inevitable conclusion. Jake could feel the tension rise. It was a feeling he had not experienced in a number of years and he just knew what was coming next.
‘We have a problem, Jake, and we are here to ask for your help.’ Jake shook his head slowly.
‘Sir, don’t fucking do this to me. I told you when I left the circle that I had left the circle, and I’m really sorry but I’m not coming back. You know I’ve done more than enough.’ Jake turned and looked out of his window.
‘No one, Jake, absolutely no one, has done more for their country than you have. But the state of affairs in other areas of the world has left this country of ours vulnerable. We’re in the shit, Jake; a mainland attack from anyone who chooses to point a weapon or bomb in our direction will cause serious problems. We are thin on the ground here in the U.K. Jake, we recently lost a couple of guys and we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t seriously need your help. It could go pear-shaped at any time.’ Grant looked straight at Jake and watched as his brain went into overdrive. It was something he had seen many times before.
‘Can’t be that bad.’
‘It’s as bad as it ever was Jake and it just may get out of hand if we’re not careful.’
‘Not in this area?’
‘Could be closer than you think. We’re a bigger target now than we ever were. That’s why we really need someone to step in who can live and breathe within The Circle. And you know exactly what we’re all about and exactly what we need form you.’ Grant watched Jake as Peter flicked the occasional glance at the rear view mirror as Jake pondered the words Grant had just thrown at him. Jake Silverman would normally have answered in less than 30 seconds but both men could see he was now fighting something. And this something was giving him problems. The seconds ticked by like every one of them was born a minute then Jake looked at Grant.
‘Sorry, sir, I’m really sorry, but I’ve moved on. There’s no will to fight anymore, and I’ve settled here. I’m hoping to get married and start a family soon. Surely you can’t ask me to give all this up and come back. Sir, it’s just not fair.’ Jake’s voice had dropped to barely a whisper.
‘It’s just not fair.’ There was a long silence as the car slowly turned into the pub car park. Peter turned the engine off as Grant spoke.
‘Listen, Jake, I won’t press you, but we really need your help, they need your help.’ He made a hand gesture towards the open window. Have a long think about it, ask the questions you need to ask and find the answers you know to be right. You know the script mate!’ Jake thought deeply for a moment or two and finally looked at his old friend.
‘Sir, everything I want and need is right here and I mean everything. There is nothing left for me out there. I’ve done it all and I’m tired and nee
d to rest. You know what it takes out of me. Well, there’s nothing left in here,’ said Jake, thumping his fist on his chest.
‘I’m really sorry, sir, but you will need to find someone else.’ The three men got out the car. Peter from the driving seat and Jake and Grant from the back. Peter watched both men walk to the rear of the vehicle. Grant slowly nodded his head as he held out his hand, which Jake shook vigorously.
‘Thanks, sir,’ Jake said.
‘Look after yourself, Jake, and whatever it is that you’ve found in your life,’ said the Major, with a sound of resignation in his voice that Jake had never heard before. Grant and Peter watched as Jake made his way out of the car park and began his lonely walk home.
‘Did you think you could get him back?’ asked Peter.
‘I thought there was every chance,’ replied Grant, as they walked inside. They sat at the window with their drinks and Peter listened intently as Major Grant told him Jake’s story.
TWENTY-THREE
Grant began at the very beginning and Peter listened.
‘Jake Silverman had a quiet, normal childhood living with his parents Alexander and Patricia and his sister Annie. Everything in his young life was happy until one night just after his eleventh birthday. His sister who was a few years older than Jake was killed in a horrific car crash. The vehicle she was in was hit by a car being chased in a police pursuit. His mother suffered badly through her daughter’s death and left the family home a year later. From that time on Jake was raised by his father who became his whole family. His mother never came back into his life and his father now lives in a nursing home in the city. Alexander Silverman has Alzheimers disease and when Jake visits him he has a one way conversation about a soldier’s life. Alexander is an old soldier himself and it’s really the only thing he has any reaction to. Jake grew up relatively happy after Annie’s death and his mother’s departure but he never did forgive the two people in the car that night. They had robbed a sub-post office and in the struggle had assaulted the postmaster. He subsequently had a stroke and died in hospital three days later. Jake’s grandfather had also been a soldier so, as it ran in the family it was no surprise when on his sixteenth birthday Jake Silverman followed in their footsteps and signed up to serve his country. I suppose it’s always been in his blood and it was all he ever wanted to do. Soldiering was as natural to Jake as breathing, eating and shitting are to us. He was a bloody revelation on exercise in the field. You remember your first night navigation exercise as a young recruit?’
‘Like it was yesterday.’ Peter said.
‘Did you get lost?’
‘Didn’t everybody?’
‘Course they did, but in Jake’s case the full platoon got terribly lost due to a map reading error by an incompetent platoon commander.’
‘I suppose we’ve all had them.’ Peter said knowingly.
‘That’s a fact,’ Grant answered, nodding his head. ‘But the fact is after they had wandered about in the dark for four hours the Officer and NCOs finally came to the conclusion that they were well and truly lost. Jake in his little squeaky voice piped up from the darkness that he knew the way back and could get them out. Just before first light they walked back into camp, wet, hungry and completely knackered, but safe.
‘So did he have a different lost procedure?’ asked Peter.
‘Different lost procedure; he didn’t even have a map.’
‘How did he manage that without a map, was it just luck?’
‘That’s what the Commander said it was, but later the platoon sergeant quizzed him thoroughly.
‘And?
‘Well, Jake claimed that he could feel the hills and their exact location.’
‘Feel the hills, I don’t understand.’
‘It turns out to be very simple really. He says that whenever he goes out onto the hills he remembers where every hill is in relation to Grid North. If he walks through a valley during the day or night he automatically notes hill locations and heights from the map. Knowing that and here’s his simple logic. If he turns back then the hills are on opposite sides. What was on his left is now on his right and he says he can feel them especially in the dark.’
‘I thought he didn’t have a map.’
‘He didn’t but he said he could differentiate between the hills even in the dark and knew it was just a case of remembering their sizes on the way in and reversing it on the way out,’
‘And this he can do even in the dark?’ Peter said wondering.
‘He can remember everything he sees on a map very very quickly. Jake is a mild savant and remembers every conversation and number he’s ever heard. And although maps are 2 dimensional he can quickly lift all features into a 3 dimensional image which he stores inside his head like a super computer. So before they started the exercise everyone gathered round the map for a look and that was enough for Jake.’
‘Shit! If only we could all do that.’ Peter said.
‘Yeah well it gets better. After a year or so he was working out in the gym and the Regimental boxing team were in training for an inter-Battalion competition. They needed a few extra bodies to let the boxers train on and Jake was coerced somewhat into getting into the ring. He was put up against the new Regimental champion and he floored him with a three punch combination that nobody saw coming.
‘So he’s a boxer too?’
‘No, he doesn’t like boxing but he’s got the natural speed like a boxer. When he locks his eyes onto someone’s chin and throws a punch his hand hits that exact point. He never misses, and more often than not he throws a 3 punch combination. He can’t explain it but it can be 3 lefts or 3 rights or a mix of both but whatever it is he always hits his target. He hits like a he’s holding a fucking cannon ball.’
‘I’ll bet the Regimental boxing team were glad to get him on board then.’
‘He told them to fuck off when they asked him to join.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Said, it’s a brutal sport only enjoyed by bullies.’
‘Bullies?’
‘Jake hates bullies, always has. Something to do with Uncle Sam’s finest and a cold night in January.
‘I don’t understand! He doesn’t like The Yanks?’
‘That’s another story that you may get to hear one day. The last part of Jakes early career which you need to hear is his weaponry skills.’
‘Don’t tell me, he’s a marksman and a sniper who can make a head shot at over 1000 metres.’ Peter said almost expectantly. Grants mouth curled up at the sides in the slightest of smiles which Peter missed completely.
‘Jake can at best be described on a firing range as ordinary. Though if I’m being brutally honest he’s probably closer to shit than anything else. In a fire fight on the battlefield I think I’d rather have a blind man next to me throwing rocks from a bag.’
‘So you’re saying he can’t hit a cow on the arse with a stick even if he’s holding it’s tail?’
‘No! Hitting a cow on the arse holding it’s tail is completely different. You don’t do that on a battlefield, you do that up close. Up close Jake Silverman is truly unbeatable and belongs to a different army than the rest of us mortals. His first posting in Europe was in Berlin where he was attached to the shooting team for yet another competition only this time the Berlin state police were competing. Jake was in charge of ammunition on the 25 metre range and after it was all over his Sergeant Major told him he didn’t want any un-used ammo back. So Jake did what any young soldier would do. He converted every live round into an empty case. A Berlin policeman let Jake use his Heckler and Koch MP5 and a Browning pistol and he remained there for the rest of the day firing. Later on in the tour Jake and his platoon were using the Ruhleben fighting city for a Fighting in built up areas exercise. (FIBUA). He came out top using the S.A.W.S. Simulator. Army Weapons System. Everything he aimed at he hit and it was also a 3 round to a kill ratio, same as his punches he always fires 3 times. Jake has developed his own techniques for Close Quart
er Battle. He used it then and he still uses it now. It’s never let him down believe me I’ve counted the body bags.’ Grant stopped and waited for Peter to speak.
‘So he’s better up close?’ asked Peter.
‘Same room, whites of the eyes stuff at all times.’
‘And it’s natural to him?’
‘That man was born for it and that’s a fact.’
‘3 rounds?’
‘3 rounds, 1 body, next.’
‘Always?’
‘Never known him to fail.’
TWENTY-FOUR
Grant and Peter fell silent and drank even more coffee. The atmosphere changed as they both realised that Jake was indeed the man they needed back more than ever. Grant rotated his empty cup slowly and continued.
‘In the mid nineties Military Intelligence was given a special brief to find people suitable for a new and very special covert team. A team that would have a completely free hand in the defence of this country. We in the United Kingdom live in a democracy: we have to be seen to be acting in a democratic way. The law of the land must be upheld, and must be seen to be upheld. That, as we all know, is a fundamental principle in the way we in this country live. Everyone has the protection of the law, innocent until proven guilty and all that. But what happens when, as has happened in the past, genuinely bad people come along, people who are rotten through and through? They have no respect for the people or the law. They are the terrorists, drug barons, religious fanatics, people who just take whatever they want. The Government decided at the highest level that the overwhelming desire of the U.K. was to fight fire with fire, and that fire was to become ‘The Circle’. We would be answerable to no one except the Home Secretary’s Office, from where we receive our orders. We would be so secret that our very existence would always be denied, no matter what. There would only be a handful of people in the know, nothing would be written down, everything was by word of mouth and even that was kept to a minimum. Everyone within the circle had to be selected very carefully; there could be no mistakes, no fuckups, because if anything did go wrong it would most certainly bring down the government of the day, damaging the country’s standing in the rest of the world. Other than a special government War Cabinet, which does not include anyone inside MI5 or MI6, there are only 20 souls involved within ‘The Circle’ that includes: Command and Control, Armaments and Logistics, Intelligence and Communications, and finally, Field operatives.
