Soft Target 05 - Blister

by Conrad Jones

  “Victor, this man is a government agent and he is a good one too. He has been trained to impede any enemy interrogation by using a number of simple tactics. So far he has succeeded in deflecting my question about which operation he is investigating by provoking you, and because you are as thick as pig shit, you’re allowing him to play for time. Now if you don’t shut up and sit down I’ll slit your throat. Do you understand me?” Victor seemed to understand that Uri was deadly serious. He nodded weakly and looked down at the oily garage floor. Uri waited until he was certain that Victor was calm before turning to face Tank.

  “What Eastern European operation were you investigating?” Uri stepped closer to Tank. Without waiting for an answer, he swung the claw hammer above his head and then pulled it downward at a sharp angle. The hammer smashed into Tank’s cheek ripping the flesh from the bone and shattering one of his molars. The pain in Tank’s head was blinding. He prayed to a god that he didn’t believe in as Uri raised the hammer again.

  Chapter twenty four

  Grace Farrington

  When Tank cut of their telephone call earlier, he said that he was about to confront his target. He had also said that he was heading into a dead end. Grace had replaced the handset and then sat looking at it for long seconds before making her mind up what to do next. Chen was on the other line at a desk across the room. Grace saw him frowning and he summoned everyone over to him with a wave of his hand. She really didn’t have time for this.

  “That was the port authority’s night shift manger. The river police unit has set a course to intercept a decommissioned lightship vessel, which is heading toward Seaforth docks. Most of the docks there are derelict. They have signalled her to stop her engines, but she hasn’t answered,” Chen said as he put the phone down.

  “What the bloody hell are they playing at? We specifically told them not to engage anybody until we had been informed,” the Major had a face like thunder.

  “Apparently their radio is playing up because of the snowstorm. It is causing stratospheric propagation. They couldn’t get a response via their radio and they eventually requested permission to engage by using a mobile phone. By that time, they were almost on top of the lightship. They are estimating a three minute interception time,” Chen shrugged. There wasn’t a great deal that could be done about the situation.

  “Get back onto the port authority and tell them to instruct the river police to stand down. They must shadow the lightship but they are not to engage her under any circumstances,” Major Timms said. Chen nodded and picked up the receiver. The Major turned to Grace and the team. “Get kitted up and meet that boat at the docks. Use all necessary force to see what is on board that ship.”

  “Major I want Chen to lead the team, I’m going to back Tank up. He was about to confront his target and I have a hunch that he’ll need backup,” Grace swallowed hard as she spoke. She knew that it didn’t make sense, but she also knew that something was wrong.

  “If John Tankersley needed back up then he would have requested it Grace, now get your team together and intercept that ship. That is an order,” the Major growled. His face darkened as he spoke. Tank and Grace should not have been allowed to work in the same unit together. Their relationship was always headed for a train crash as far as professionalism was concerned. Grace was putting her concern for her lover over the welfare of a potentially crucial investigation. Everything that they had on the job so far was conjecture, but he couldn’t risk being wrong about this one.

  “I have a really bad feeling about this Major,” Grace offered. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been twenty minutes since Tank hung up the call.

  “If you’re so concerned Grace then call him, and then get your arse over to that dockside and investigate that lightship. We need to discuss this situation between you and John in depth when you return,” the Major couldn’t tolerate it any longer. He had allowed it to go on far too long.

  “Yes sir,” Grace turned to walk away and she knew that her days as a taskforce agent were numbered. If the Major wouldn’t tolerate their relationship any longer then it would be her that would be transferred. There was no doubt that Tank was the best operative in the best unit, in the best armed force on the planet. Suddenly a shout went across the office.

  “We have an agent compromised!” a voice shouted from the monitoring section. An electronic signal had been received by the intelligence agencies listening posts, and then relayed to the taskforce. Grace felt her heart stop beating for a second and the noise in the office seemed to stop. All she could hear was the blood pounding through her veins and the words, ‘We have an agent compromised’, echoed through her mind. She looked at the Major and he looked back at her. He didn’t say a word but she got the message from the expression on his face. There was a silent communication from him to her and Grace turned and headed for the elevators.

  “You two are with me,” she shouted to two taskforce agents that were close to her. The two men moved like lightning without questioning her orders for a second. The Major watched the elevator doors sliding closed and he could see the fear in Grace Farrington’s eyes as she met his gaze. They hadn’t confirmed that it was Tank that had been compromised yet, but they both knew that it was.

  “What have we got?” the Major said as he turned and walked into the monitoring section.

  “Approximately five minutes ago two shots were discharged from Agent Tankersley’s Glock 17. Possession of the gun was lost shortly after that. The gun and his truck are currently on the move at these coordinates. We cannot get any response from him,” the agent read the information from a computer screen. In the top right hand corner was a passport size photograph of Tank from his army days. The Major stared at the wide forehead and the angled jaw. He had a face like stone. Major Timms hoped that if he was still alive that he could live long enough for Grace to get to him. If he wasn’t alive then God help whoever had killed him because Grace Farrington was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Send that information and those coordinates to Grace Farrington. Keep updating her as the coordinates change,” the Major turned to Chen. “Get your team ready and intercept that lightship at the docks.”

  “Roger that,” Chen stopped. “Has Grace gone to back up Tank?”

  The Major didn’t answer he just nodded once and walked away. Chen could see that he was very worried. He was just about to head off when the monitoring section sprang to life again.

  “Major you had better come and see this,” the monitor shouted. All the agents stopped what they were doing and listened to what was happening.

  “What have you got?” the Major asked.

  “We have automatic gunfire reported from a container vessel in the estuary. The location is where the river police and the lightship are,” the monitor looked shocked as she spoke.

  “Jesus, I told you to order them not to engage that lightship,” the Major turned on Chen as he approached.

  “I passed on your orders to the port authority Major. Maybe they couldn’t get a hold of the officers on the launch,” Chen answered.

  “That’s not all I’m afraid Major,” the monitor interrupted their conversation.

  “What else do you have?” the Major’s voice was stern.

  “We have picked up a number of underwater explosions in this sector here,” she pointed to an area of the bay not far from a line of treacherous sandbanks. It was nowhere near the wreck sites that they had earmarked but it still didn’t bode well.

  “That’s about a mile from any of the sites we’re monitoring,” Chen said.

  “It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be connected Chen,” the Major was struggling to understand how they could have got it so wrong.

  “I’ll check the geography between the explosion and the sector that we are monitoring Major. Only a strong undercurrent or a marine trench could explain how the wreck would travel so far away underwater,” Chen answered embarrassed by the situation. “Is there any way that this explo
sion could have been caused by the gas rigs hitting an unexploded Second World War bomb or some other ordinance?”

  “How big was the explosion?” the Major asked the monitor shaking his head.

  “There was one major explosion followed by a series of large blasts. There was a considerable shockwave created by an explosion, and its epicentre was the seabed here.”

  “We need information from every vessel and drilling rig in the bay immediately,” the Major ordered.

  “What type of information Major?”

  “We need visual reports from anything that is in that sector. Specifically relating to any flotsam on the surface and any unusual clouds or fog banks.”

  “Fog banks sir?”

  “Yes, fog banks, and do it now. Chen get your men to the docks and get them suited in protective equipment and respirators. Get the fat controller down here immediately,” the Major headed to his office.

  “Yes sir, anything else sir?”

  “Yes, get a red alert to the police chiefs, and an all points bulletin to the relevant government departments. I need the Minister of Defence on the telephone now. We have to evacuate the city.”

  “Major,” Chen shouted to him before he reached his office.

  “What?”

  “What about Grace, she’s already out there without any protection?” the two men looked at each other for the answer but there was none forthcoming.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The River Police

  Constable Danny Lee continued to signal the lightship until they were in earshot of the vessel. He switched on the megaphone and hailed the pilot of the ship. The lights inside the bridge were on but he couldn’t see anyone in there.

  “L2 we need you to stop all engines immediately, and prepare for boarding,” he wiped snow from his brow. There was a thick layer of white crystals covering the decks and rails now. He waited a moment for a response but none came.

  “L2 please respond immediately,” he tried again and got the same response.

  “There’s nothing doing Danny. They’ve got something on board that they don’t want us to see,” Darren said over the noise of the engines as he steered the boat closer to the lightship. They were just fifty yards to the starboard of her when they noticed movement inside the bridge.

  Christopher Walsh dragged the unconscious body of Petre Gustav up the metal stairs into the bridge. He could hear the river police hailing them, but he had no intentions of acknowledging them. He had to buy enough time to get the lightship to its remote berth and unload its deadly cargo. Unloading would take twenty minutes or so. Once the shells were on land he had a truck ready to move them to a private airfield situated between Liverpool and the seaside resort of Southport. From there he could move them to any number of locations well out of reach of the authorities. With the shells safely stored somewhere he planned to release the details of the blister agent plot to the press himself. The authorities would deny that the shells had ever existed of course but then he could produce some of them. One to the BBC, another to Sky news, the New York Times and the rest could be distributed to a selection of foreign press contacts and organisations as solid proof that the plot existed. The news would spread around the world like a wild fire that the 2012 Olympics had been targeted by terrorists who were in possession of a blister agent. The resulting news furore would make his chemical counter measure treatment priceless. All he had to do now was lose the police launch.

  Petre began to groan as he started to come round. Blood from his head wound had run down his forehead into his eyes and mouth. He licked the blood from his lips as he regained consciousness. Christopher ran back down the stairs and then reappeared a few seconds later with a jerry can full of paraffin. He flicked open the cap and began pouring the oily liquid all over the injured dive master. Despite being groggy, Petre could smell the flammable liquid and a stark realisation sent him into a panic.

  “What are you doing, you lunatic?” he spluttered. He tried to stand and grabbed at the bridge rail to help him up. The dive master was groggy his feet slipped from underneath him and he thrashed around on the metal decking. He tried to rise again to find the door and escape but his vision was blurred. Petre wiped congealing blood away from his eyes with his sleeve. Christopher stalked him as he moved toward the bridge door like a cat playing with a mouse, poised to strike.

  “Get away from me, you crazy bastard,” Petre shouted. He summoned as much courage as he could but the sight of the blistered man in the cabin below had shocked him to the core. His voice was cracked and shaky.

  “Get off my boat, you piece of shit,” Christopher pointed to the bridge door. Petre grasped the handle and opened the door. The cold air rushed in and a flurry of snowflakes drifted through the opening. Petre turned his back on Christopher and stepped out into the night. Christopher lit a match and threw it onto the dive master’s shirt. There was a loud whooshing sound as he was transformed into a walking inferno. Petre tried to scream but as he inhaled, flames rushed down the trachea and frazzled his vocal cords. He could feel his lungs and throat crackling as they withered under the intense heat. Christopher grabbed the bridge handrail and lunged at the burning man with a powerful front kick. His foot struck the burning man in the small of the back and catapulted him over the guardrail and into the Mersey Estuary.

  “Oh my god, did you see that?” Constable Lee shouted to his partner.

  “I’m changing course now,” Darren answered and he swung the boat starboard away from the lightship toward the burning man in the water. The flames had been doused slightly by the seawater but his hair and face were still burning fiercely. The engines of the lightship roared as the vessel accelerated away from them in the opposite direction.

  “Jesus Christ, they’ll get away,” Danny Lee said. He took up a solid shooting stance and raised his weapon. He squeezed the trigger three times. The bullets smashed into the bridge of the lightship but he couldn’t see if he had hit anyone or what effect they’d had. The L2 disappeared into the snow as the police launch reached the burning man.

  “Get him out of the water,” Darren shouted.

  Constable Lee stepped off the bow of the boat and edged along the side ledge whilst holding onto the roof rails with one hand. There was a narrow ledge, which allowed access to the stern. He leaned over precariously and reached into the water. He held tightly to the launch and grabbed the man by the back of the neck. The rise and fall of the waves made it difficult to maintain any grip on him.

  “He’s already dead,” Constable Lee said. He was looking at the man’s blackened face. The skin was peeling away from the bones of his face. One of his eyeballs had burst leaving a blackened ragged hole, which was full of seawater in its place. “I can’t lift him, you’ll have to help me.”

  Darren brought the vessel to a stop and put the engines on idle. He stepped onto the ledge and joined his colleague. They reached into the water again and tried to grab hold of the body. The swell was worsening as the wake from the lightship started to buffet the launch. They waited for the body to rise with the swell and then grabbed at it again. It was then that they heard the sound of diesel engines approaching at speed. They looked around but couldn’t make sense of anything in the snowstorm. Suddenly the bridge lights on board of the lightship came into view less than fifty yards away.

  “What the fuck is that?” Danny Lee asked incredulously. He couldn’t turn around without losing his grip on the body. Darren turned and his jaw fell open.

  “Oh shit,” he said calmly without any panic in his voice.

  The river policemen released their grip on the dead man and watched helplessly as the L2 bore down on them at full throttle. There was a man stood on the bow of the deck aiming a machinegun at them. The muzzle flashed as a hail of nine millimetre bullets ripped into the launch. Two high velocity rounds hit Darren in the face ripping the left hand side of his skull away from his head. Danny Lee was splattered with his partner’s brains and he wiped them away with his finge
rs. The L2 was three times the size of the polycarbonate police launch and was made from steel plate. It hit the police boat amidships ripping it in half. The launch exploded into a thousand splinters as the fuel tanks ignited. Constable Danny Lee was completely aware when the burning fuel engulfed him, and he had the sensation of weightlessness as the explosion tossed him high into the air. The initial pain as his skin burnt seemed to pass quite quickly and darkness overwhelmed him. He was dead before he hit the water.

  Christopher Walsh steered the L2 full circle and headed toward the docks again. He was more than happy with the way things were going until a series of huge explosions a mile or so behind him rocked the lightship dangerously. He looked out to sea and watched a fireball spiral up toward the snow clouds forming a huge mushroom shape as it climbed.