Break-In

by M G Leslie

  Price looked at his friend. Lee’s eyes were focused on him and he was clearly angry that Price had lied to him. But there was nothing he could do at this stage, so he said, “I’m sorry. My intentions are good, but I cannot say anything more than I have. Please believe me when I tell you that I would never do anything to hurt my country, my service or my friend who’s buying me dinner.”

  Lee smiled, “Fair enough – but you’re buying dinner you cheeky bastard,” at which Price just laughed, so Lee continued, “We found the taxi driver who confirmed that he delivered a tall Caucasian man to a 7-11 shop not far from here. I’ll show you where it is when we leave – I’ll drive past and then you can walk back. The taxi driver also confirmed that the original instruction was to go to the airport – in fact that’s what made him remember the fare, because our man changed the instruction as soon as the taxi was clear of the hotel. So he clearly does not want to be discovered and is hiding something.”

  “Do we have any details on this 7-11?” said Price, “Owners, layout, architects drawings – anything at all to go on?”

  “Yes,” said Lee as he removed some papers from a folder he was carrying. “Here’s the layout of the building when it was originally built. In additional to the main shop at the front, you can see what looks like a small storage room on the right hand side at the back and larger room to the left of that, labelled in the original diagram, “LIFT SHAFT”. But I’ve driven past it – it’s a single story building. I should imagine it was originally intended to have multiple floors but was later changed – so they probably use that as another storage room or an office of some kind. Then at the back on the far left, you can see the toilets and a small kitchen.”

  “Are you sure our man doesn’t go here for his groceries?” said Price, with a sceptical look on his face.

  “No,” said Lee. “Looking back at the mobile phone records, he comes here and he stays – sometimes for many hours – even overnight.”

  “Then there’s something we don’t know about this building,” said Price. “The lift, if it doesn’t go up, does it go down?”

  “There’s nothing in the plans to suggest that it has a basement. So if that is the case, then the city planning office is unaware. But please be careful Price, I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Ignoring the advice, Price just said, “I’ll switch the Tracker on once we leave here. If you don’t hear from me within 24 hours, come and get me in force.”

  “OK. That will be very unpopular with our new masters here in Hong Kong, so please do get yourself out. Your ‘friends’ are flying in from Manila tonight – their equipment is coming in via the diplomatic bag. But we really need to keep this low profile if at all possible because we have not engaged anyone in the Chinese security services. To say they will be upset is the understatement of the century.”

  Price desperately wanted to say that he’d already spoken to the Chinese security services and they were happy to sit back and watch. But he couldn’t, so he said, “I’ll do my best, but 24 hours and not a minute longer – got it?”

  “Got it and if you can get out before then, all you need to do is get in to the road. I have men across the street watching the 7-11 and they have your picture. Just get yourself back out. If you’re in trouble just wave your hands in the air or run and they’ll come to your assistance.”

  “OK thanks,” said Price, “Let’s get this over with.”

  Lee stood up and nodded to Price who grimaced before paying the bill. Then they both walked outside and around the corner to where Lee had parked his car. “I’ll be turning right at the end of this road and back along, parallel to the bay,” said Lee, “The shop will be on the right.”

  As they passed the 7-11, Price looked through the window noting the surroundings and then said, “It’s just a shop. There’s definitely something we’re missing here.”

  Lee didn’t look at Price, but just said, “I know! Good luck my friend, and no more disappearing acts OK?”

  “Agreed,” said Price. “If I disappear again, it will not be intentional – you can be assured of that.”

  Lee stopped at the side of the road about 100 yards up from the shop. Price reached down, removed his right shoe and activated the Tracker by sliding open the secret compartment in the heel. Once Lee had checked that the receiver in his car was receiving the Tracker signal, Price closed the compartment and replaced his shoe before getting out and walking slowly back. He deliberately took a slow pace, noting the building’s size and shape from the side and trying to guess what was inside – other than just a normal 7-11 store, obviously.

  From the plans he and Lee had studied and the view before his eyes, there was clearly no other way in or out of the building, except through the front door, which in itself was strange – he thought that most shops had delivery entrances around the back, but this one didn’t seem to. Still thinking about that, he walked straight in and looked around for a couple of minutes before he noticed a strange door at the back of the shop where the lift shaft was supposed to have been located. Looking more closely, whilst pretending to search for a magazine, he realised, its surroundings were clearly reinforced more like a secure room. However, he knew from the outside view that it couldn’t possibly be more than a few feet deep. He needed to check it out though.

  After walking around the shop a couple of times he noticed that there was only one bottle of low fat milk in the refrigerator, so he picked it up, walked up to the counter and said, “Do you have any more, as I really need two bottles?”

  “I think that’s the only one,” said the shopkeeper.

  “Could you check please?” said Price, “I know you guys normally have stock rooms. Sorry, it’s just that my wife has medication to take and she needs to drink milk with it – would you mind please, I’m sorry to trouble you like this and I wouldn’t ask unless it was important?”

  The shopkeeper didn’t look happy, but said, “OK please wait, I will check,” and then he walked in to the small room on the right hand side at the back of the store. Price stepped slightly to his left to get a better view and could see that it looked like a small stock room as he and Lee had suspected.

  The shopkeeper seemed to be searching through some boxes, so whilst he was busy, Price quietly ran behind the counter and up to the strange door, instantly seeing what looked like a button you use to call a lift. He pushed the button and the door slid open. Before it closed again, he looked to see if there were any cameras that would give him away. At first glance there didn’t appear to be any, so he stepped inside and let the door close behind him, noting that the only floors marked were G and L. Since he was at Ground level he pushed L and felt the lift descend for what seemed like ages.

  As the lift descended, Price drew his gun and attached the silencer, stepping to one side so that he was not immediately visible when the door opened. As the lift reach the bottom it made the familiar “ding” and the doors slid open. Price waited out of sight to see if anyone was there and sure enough, a few moments later a man dressed in a security uniform stuck his head through the door.

  Price moved swiftly and violently – he grabbed the front of the man’s jacket with his right hand, pulling the man in to the lift and slamming him against the back wall. Before the man could react, he delivered a sharp blow to the back of the man’s neck with the butt of his gun and the man fell to the floor unconscious.

  Price looked around – it didn’t seem like anyone saw him, so he dragged the body out of the lift and stowed it around the corner in what looked like the stairwell to what he presumed was the fire escape.

  Ahead of him was a long corridor that was very dimly lit. Having just stepped out of the brightly lit lift, he couldn’t see anything in the darkness, so he waited a few minutes for his eyes to adjust before setting off. He still couldn’t see very much, so he walked slowly and hugged the left hand wall as he made his way down the corridor, wondering what would be at the end – whatever it was, it was well protected he thou
ght, because he could tell from his general direction that he was now walking under the sea in Stanley Bay, so he was grateful for what looked like a very well built concrete tunnel.

  It was a good 15 minutes walk before he started to see some rooms to his right. Price was dressed in black, so he new that, in the poor light he wouldn’t be clearly visible unless someone was actively looking for him.

  As he approached the first room on the right he stopped outside to listen if there was anyone inside. He couldn’t hear anything so he knocked on the door to see if he’d get a reaction and stood to one side with gun drawn at waste level.

  Still nothing, although he could hear some chatter up ahead and he was sure he heard the familiar sounds of computers and air-conditioning fans whirring in the distance. He decided to try the door and slowly turned the handle, gently pushing it open.

  Still no reaction from anybody or anything, so he very quickly stuck his head around, took less than a second to look through the doorway before moving back out of sight again. He hadn’t seen anyone in there, so he stepped around the corner and walked through in to the room, closing the door behind him.

  Price was amazed by what he saw, as it looked like some kind of underground apartment – he could see comfortable furniture, a table and chairs, even an open-plan kitchen and a further room in the back that he suspected probably led to a bedroom or bathroom.

  As he scanned his eyes around the room from left to right he noticed a mirror on the wall and the reflection. “Damn!” he said to himself, as he saw a CCTV camera in the reflection – it was in the top right hand corner of the room on the same wall as the door he’d entered through. There was no way he could have seen it until he entered the room, and as soon as he did, it would have caught him.

  Price quickly turned and slowly opened the door. Compared to the well-lit room, the corridor seemed very dark now – in fact he could have sworn it was even darker than when he entered the room. He tried to look and see if anyone was in the corridor, but he couldn’t see anything. Even the sound from further down the corridor seemed to have stopped.

  This was very worrying – if the lights had been turned down even further, that probably indicated they were after him. The question was, should he stay or run.

  He looked in to the corridor again and realised it was suicide walking out there. So he stepped back in the room and closed the door, turning the lock on the handle. It wasn’t a particularly substantial door and wouldn’t keep out anyone who was determined, but it would give him a second or two. Then he raised his gun and fired at the CCTV camera, breaking the lens and putting it out of action. Aside from the small thud from the silencer, the only noise had been the breaking glass and plastic from the camera – so if they hadn’t seen him, they’d now think it was a faulty camera, and if they had – well, he’d bought himself a few seconds to search the room for anything useful before, as he often put it, “The games begins.” – which was actually a private joke as well as an obscure reference to Price’s favourite psychology text called, Games People Play.

  Working quickly, he ran around looking for anything useful before walking in to the back room. Sure enough, it was a small bedroom. He was quite amazed – even though the floor, walls and ceiling were all made from grey concrete blocks, it looked surprisingly inviting with wooden furniture and rugs on the floor that were presumably an attempt to hide its true location – sadly, however, there was no other exit – the only way out was the way he came in.

  Then suddenly, Price heard the door handle being moved – someone was trying to get in. He quickly turned out the lights in the bedroom, so that the only remaining light was in the main lounge area – this meant that he would be in the shadows and anyone who entered would be lit up, giving him an easier target.

  The door handled rattled again and then, “Bang bang bang!” Price recognised the sound of bullets shattering the lock from the outside before the door was kicked open.

  Two men walked inside with guns in their hands. Price looked around the corner to get a slightly better view, noting that they were carrying machine pistols. Whilst being mostly used by the likes of bodyguards and often criticised for their lack of accuracy at distance, these guns were capable of rapid fire – his Smith and Wesson was heavily out-gunned – although he did have cover and a small element of surprise on his side.

  One of the men spoke, “Come out, whoever you are – we will not shoot you if you give up with your hands in the air.”

  “That’s not a Chinese accent,” thought Price, “In fact that’s almost confirmation of Mary’s North Korea connection,” but he stayed silent.

  The man spoke again, “Come out. Give up. You have nowhere to go. We will not harm you.”

  Price stayed still as he’d heard that line before and had seen people believe it, stand up and immediately get shot. And then, not surprisingly, it started – the men gave each other a nod and then sprayed the walls with bullets – the sound shattering the silence and sending fragments of concrete from the walls in to the air – narrowly missing Price.

  “We will not harm you,” Price said to himself, “Yeah right – very funny.”

  The men walked forward. They were now only about 20 feet from Price, but fortunately, he was still in the shadows and was sure they couldn’t see him. However, they opened up again and sprayed bullets over the walls as they walked forward.

  Price took aim and fired 4 shots in quick succession – two shots in the chest of each man, causing them both to drop to the ground. Then, before they’d even come to a halt, he sprinted across the room and fired another shot in to the head of each man before running to the door.

  A quick look outside reconfirmed, it was still incredibly dark – but now he had no choice – he had to make a run for it. So he turned in to the corridor, closed the door behind him and set off as fast as he dared in the poor light.

  It was too late though – as soon as he started walking, a security guard wearing infrared goggles struck him on the back of his head, knocking him to the floor and unconscious all in one go. Price had been holding his gun in his hand, but never had a chance to defend himself.

  He had no way of knowing how long he’d been asleep, but when he woke up, Price found himself in a dark room with almost no light – he was bound very tightly to what felt like a wooden upright chair. His legs were bound to the chair legs and his arms to the chair arms, using what felt like nylon cable ties. He even had some kind of strap around his chest, which held him firmly against the back of the chair, constricting his movement so much that it made it difficult for him to take a deep breath.

  His eyes were not covered and neither was his mouth. Whilst shouting for help was normally a pretty good idea, he decided not to waist his energy given that he was probably still underground. He tried to look around and make out the walls but couldn’t see anything except two small blue lights to his right – almost like cats eyes. “What the hell are they?” he said to himself – they seemed to be staring at him like some kind of alien creature.

  Still looking around and clearly unable to escape, Price decided to get someone’s attention, “Hey, let me out of here!”

  At that moment the blue lights moved from his side and round the back of him, out of view.

  “What’s out there? What the hell is this?” he shouted in an aggressive tone.

  Still nothing and then the room lights came on and Price could see he was in a small room facing a wall – the grey concrete colour pretty much confirming his assumption that he was still underground. He strained his neck to look behind and could just make out the edge of a door with his peripheral vision.

  A few more minutes passed and then he heard the voice he dreaded, “Hello Price.”

  Price screwed his eyes up in disappointment. He didn’t really know the voice that well, as he’d only spoken to Mike a couple of times, but he knew a British accent when he heard one, so he said, “Mike, good to see you. You get around – first the Philippines, then the hot
el and now here.”

  Mike walked around the room to face Price. Then without saying anything, he punched him in the side of his face, breaking the skin just below Price’s left eye. “Shut up! You think you’re so smart – I’ve been way ahead of you – you’re just guessing – you don’t know where I’ve been. I’ll tell you one thing though. Very soon you’ll wish you’d stayed at home.”

  Despite the pain in his face, Price managed to smile as he looked at Mike’s wrist and the bright orange G-force watch he was wearing. Then he said, “You did a good job of avoiding the hotel cameras Mike. And I give you 10 out of 10 for getting in to the country unseen, because we were looking for you – with the best intentions I might add. But your watch showed up on the hotel footage. So you’ve been a suspect for a while.”

  “I like this watch,” said Mike.

  Price just shrugged his shoulders, “Only a fool would wear something he likes on an operation. You forgot your basic training – you wear what you need for the operation, nothing more and nothing less. And you never wear anything that can be connected with your country or you! You’re a bloody fool,” then he paused before saying, “and a traitor who, mark my words, will pay! You know SIS rules on traitors.”

  Price was referring to an un-written rule, which was something he’d had the task of enforcing on a couple of occasions. Traitors were always made to pay – either with their life or as a double agent working for the Firm.

  Mike stepped forward, drew his arm back and landed another punch on the right side of Price’s face, this time knocking him over, still bound tightly to the chair that was now on its side against the floor. Then in a fit of rage, he walked around and started kicking Price in the stomach and legs like some kind of crazed person who was out of control, as he shouted “Don’t you lecture me you self-righteous bastard. Don’t you dare lecture me! I’m better than you – I’ve been doing this for ages now – even before I was assigned to the case, which was hilarious by the way. You think you’re so good! Well who’s tied up and who’s doing the kicking – huh??”