by M G Leslie
Price had an emotional, what some would call volatile, side to his personality. Consequently, for a brief second, he was tempted to remove the Smith and Wesson from his pocket and stick a bullet in the guy’s head to send a, “Don’t mess with me!” message.
Fortunately however, common sense prevailed and he decided, “Actually, this is a good thing. Now I know for certain that someone is doing something they shouldn’t – I know what I’m up against. I just need to identify the guilty party, and find out what really goes on in the lab.”
So, putting that thought to one side, he focused on the real question, which was how to get past Pale-faced, as he had mentally named him.
Then he noticed a middle-aged lady who had been pulling a heavy suitcase behind her, but had just been asked to open it for inspection by the customs officials. She appeared to be on her own and somewhat flustered by the need to explain the contents of her bag. As she stood there, watching the official search her bag, she started to look around – Price presumed, to see if anyone else was being searched. A few others were. “It happens,” he thought. Then, as he looked straight at her, he finally caught her eye for the briefest second.
“That’ll do,” he thought, and walked over, gently touched her on the shoulder and with a friendly, almost imperceptible wink of one eye, spoke so that the customs official could hear, "Hi, how are you? I didn't see you arrive – I thought I'd missed you for a minute back there."
The lady looked up at Price, who was considerably taller. Then Price turned to face the official and said, "We were supposed to meet in Zambia – missed each other amongst the buses and the crowds. Anyway, are we done here – I think it must be time for a spot of lunch don't you? I'm so looking forward to seeing your amazing waterfalls – I'm told they are one of the seven natural wonders of the world. Is that really true?"
"Yes," replied the official as he closed the bag and started to zip it shut – obviously satisfied that these were just another couple of tourists.
Price turned back to face the lady as he picked up the bag. “Let me help you with this – it looks very heavy,” he said, as he gently tilted his hat a fraction to cover the side of his face, and held out his arm for the lady.
“Thank you,” she replied, as they started to walk away from Zimbabwe customs and past Pale-faced.
A few tense moments later it appeared to have worked. Price couldn’t be sure, but from where he now stood, Pale-faced genuinely seemed to have missed him. Then, as they approached the bus, that had crossed the border and was parked, waiting for the passengers, Price stopped.
"I hope you didn't mind me doing that,” he said. “The officials can be a little over-zealous sometimes and I was also trying to avoid bumping in to a boring work colleague – so it worked out well for both of us I hope?"
The lady just smiled and said, “You’re a very kind young man. Thank you very much for your help.”
Price couldn’t be sure, but it almost seemed like she knew he would offer to carry her bag. “I guess I look like the sympathetic type,” he thought, laughing inside as he boarded the bus, which then made the short journey to the magnificent Victoria Falls Hotel.
The Victoria Falls Hotel is a legacy of the former colonial times in Zimbabwe. It’s still the original hotel, built with an amazing view of the Victoria Falls Bridge and the spray below – more resembling a stately home than a traditional hotel – with white-washed brick-work and a redbrick tiled roof, setting it apart from the surrounding countryside.
Despite the grand setting though, Price didn’t delay and take photographs as he noted many of his fellow travellers were doing. The sight of an agent, potentially from his own service, made him extremely cautious as he checked in.
Price didn’t consider himself a paranoid person. He knew other people in his business who seemed to see trouble everywhere they looked – most of which was just imagination. However, as he walked in to the hotel room, he was very careful to use the hidden menu on his digital camera to sweep for listening devices – only relaxing when it confirmed he was genuinely alone – at which point he enjoyed a few snacks from the minibar before taking a relaxing bath and calling it a night.
7. Victoria Falls Train
At home, Price had a well-established routine when he wasn’t working. He would wake up early and complete a series of exercises for half an hour – all designed to get his heart pumping, build up his stamina and maintain his core strength. Then he would shower and take a pleasant walk to buy a local newspaper, which he would read either over a breakfast at a local café, or over breakfast back in his apartment.
On this occasion, he’d had such a good sleep in the Victoria Falls Hotel, Price looked out of the window and then looked at the hotel guide – noting it’s gym facilities. “Some exercise and a hearty breakfast would be wonderful,” he thought – but he resisted the urge to leave his room – instead ordering room service before sitting back and relaxing – also resisting the urge to go and see the Victoria Falls themselves.
Whilst he’d seen them before, he never tired of looking at the spectacular site of the one of the world’s largest waterfalls – and certainly one of the largest volumes of water flowing over a waterfall – outstripping the amazing Niagara Falls that cross a border between the United States and Canada and rivalling the impressive Iguazu Falls in South America.
However, he again reminded himself that there was an agent snooping around immigration. So he resigned himself to watching TV for much of the day, as his train would not be leaving until the afternoon.
Whilst the Victoria Falls train generally consists of an engine, two box cars, lots of coal trucks, four seated coaches, four sleeper coaches and a baggage car – there’s no buffet or restaurant car. At least, there was nothing that would satisfy Price’s requirements. So after a substantial lunch, once again courtesy of the hotel’s room service menu, he made his way down to the hotel lobby with a small rucksack that he’d packed in his luggage – he needed to buy supplies for the journey.
Like any large hotel, there were a number of shops nearby to serve tourists. So he filled his rucksack with bottled water, a few tins of meat and fish and some bread.
At first glance, that might seem a little excessive for what was only expected to be a twelve-hour journey. However, Price was well aware that the train often encountered delays – sometimes several hours – sometimes even longer.
After returning to his room, Price rechecked it for any transmitting devices that may have been inserted whilst he was away. He knew it was almost certainly unnecessary – but he also knew that, it’s the details that keep you alive in this business.
Not surprisingly though, everything was OK – so he packed his belongings, picked up the rucksack and his hand luggage and headed down to the lobby to checkout.
The hotel was originally built to serve a railway route and sits right next to the train platform – indeed, it even has its own entrance, where Price showed his ticket and made his away along the train to find his 2-berth cabin – all the while carefully surveying his surroundings for anyone out of place or looking at him.
There are three classes of accommodation on the Victoria Falls train – an economy class with very basic seating and six per row, a standard class with airline style seats, four per row, and a sleeper class, with 2-berth or 4-berth cabins. Price had paid for two tickets, so he could occupy his own 2-berth cabin, which he entered – locking the door behind him and then re-checking it, to ensure it was genuinely locked and could not be opened from the outside.
The small room had plain leatherette bench seats that converted to bunks, and a washbasin – although it came as no surprise when the taps didn’t produce any water. “That’s why I have a rucksack full of the stuff,” he said to himself. That said, Price had no intention of drinking directly from the bottled water, because he was well aware of rumours of tap water being used to refill bottles that were then re-sold. So he retrieved a water filter and drinking container from his bag
– filling it from one of the bottles of water before replacing the lid and taking a sip.
Price used a specially designed water filter that was the size of an average sports drink holder, but contained a micro filter in the lid to eliminate all bacteria, viruses and chemicals. He’d used it many times before to turn pretty much any fresh water source in to perfect drinking water.
A while later, as the train started to pull out of the station, again Price re-checked the lock on the door was secure before sitting back and looking out of the window. He was hoping for an uneventful journey that would ideally see him arriving in Bulawayo the next day at around 4pm.
Back in London, it was a cold and wet day as the MI6 operations meeting drew to a close.
These are short, daily meetings between the Chief, the Chief of Staff and relevant department heads. Only the Chief, Chief of Staff and the Chief’s assistant being present throughout the whole meeting, as the Chief always applied a strict ‘Need To Know’ policy. So officers were only briefed on operations that directly affected them. Indeed, he even ensured that he didn’t see all the details relating to every operation undertaken by MI6 – the idea being that no single person had more information than absolutely necessary.
“Thank you gentlemen,” said the Chief, as everyone stood up and started to leave the conference room.
As usual, the Chief and the Chief of Staff were the last to leave. They always tended to remain behind in case there was any additional business that needed discussing – and on this occasion there was.
“Any news?” said the Chief.
The Chief of Staff knew what he meant, “He flew to Hong Kong and met an old friend from the French service – the DCRI. From there he took a flight to Paris and vanished without a trace.”
The Chief smiled, “Good.”
The Chief of Staff hesitated before speaking again, “Sir… He was seen with a Chinese-looking girl at the airport before he left Hong Kong immigration.”
The Chief, who had been about to stand up, stopped and made eye contact with the Chief of Staff, “Is that significant?”
“Well they definitely knew each other – he kissed her on the cheek apparently.”
“Maybe he picked her up in a bar – you know what Price is like. Do we have her photo on file?”
“No Sir. I took the liberty of running her photo for facial recognition – both friendly nations databases and ours. She doesn’t exist.”
“So she could be one of the opposition is what you’re implying.”
“It’s a possibility Sir.”
“Or she could just be someone he met – possibly even paid for.”
“Yes Sir – she could – and as you say, we are talking about Price here – and he does like more than a few beers – and you know where he stays when he goes there.”
The Chief smiled knowingly – pausing for thought before saying, “Add her to Price’s file and keep this quiet. But I want to be alerted if her face shows up again – especially if it’s linked to him. It’s probably nothing – but let’s put her on record just in case.”
“Already done Sir – for your and my eyes only.”
The Chief smiled, “Thank you. And please do let me know when she turns up again.”
Then the two men walked out of the conference room – only to be approached by Bill Phillips, who had clearly been hanging back to speak to them.
“Sir?”
“Bill,” the Chief replied, whilst starting to walk down the corridor to his office.
“We didn’t cover the situation in Zimbabwe at the meeting. I presumed it was somewhat sensitive, so I didn’t say anything. I was just wondering if you’d made a decision on the best way to proceed?”
“It’s in hand,” replied the Chief, “Leave it to me – I have assigned someone to work on this. It is extremely sensitive, you are correct – so I’m handling this personally.”
“Sir, as Head of Operations for Africa, I think I have a right to know if there’s an operation in my jurisdiction.”
The Chief stopped and turned to face him. “Bill, this isn’t, wasn’t and never will be, a democracy. You have no rights! I appreciate your concern as I also appreciate your good intentions. However, as and when I need your input, I will ask for it. Thank you for the offer – I will keep that in mind.”
“But Sir.”
“No Bill. I am handling this. I am aware of your other operations – if there’s any conflict between this and anything else you’re doing, I will of course inform you. But at the moment there is not – I expect you to step back from this – it’s strictly need to know!”
“Sir,” replied Bill, who then excused himself.
The Chief and Chief of Staff looked at each other, making eye contact, then the Chief of Staff spoke as they arrived back at the Chief’s office, “He knew Price was assigned to this – why the sudden interest?”
“Maybe he’s just trying to get on my good side – who knows,” replied the Chief in a dismissive tone, as he sat down at his desk. “I like Bill – this is out of character. So let’s give him some leeway for now. I’m sure he’ll understand and no doubt redeem himself at the first opportunity.”
“Unless he’s the problem in the Firm that Price is worried about,” replied the Chief of Staff in a quiet voice so that there was no chance of anyone overhearing – noting that the Chief’s office door was still open.
The Chief stood up, walked over to the office door and closed it, before turning to face the Chief of Staff. “Price has no proof – or at least, none that he’s shared. I don’t want rumours of some spy on the inside spreading around the Firm – it will tear us apart. So, please let Price do what he’s good at – and get to the bottom of this.”
The Chief of Staff nodded, “Of course Sir.”
Two floors away, however, Bill Phillips arrived back in his office – only to be approached by Fabio Alexander and Cale Jones.
Cale spoke first, “Any news on the Zimbabwe situation Sir?”
Bill turned to face Cale and said, “The Chief is handling it personally – I’ll let you know if it impinges on anything you’re doing – and same for you Fabio.”
Neither man spoke – instead just returning to their offices.
Seven thousand miles away, a series of SMS messages were being sent and received on mobile phones all across Zimbabwe – all communicating with a single a London number:
LONDON: THEY SENT PRICE. CHECK CCTV AT ALL PORTS OF ENTRY
LIVINGSTON LAND BORDER: BEEN MONITORING ALL DAY. NO ENTRY AT LIVINGSTON
MOZAMBIQUE LAND BORDER: ALL CLEAR HERE.
ZIMBABWE AIRPORT: NO SIGN OF HIM AT THE AIRPORT
LONDON: HE MUST BE THERE ALREADY OR ON HIS WAY. CHECK AGAIN AND CHECK CCTV
The phone owners read the messages and immediately started making calls – causing people across the country to start re-checking points of entry and looking through CCTV recordings – including, unfortunately for Price, those at the Livingston border station.
Price of course, was blissfully unaware of the conversations taking place and, after an evening snack had settled down to sleep as the Victoria Falls train quietly made its way across the country.
He always enjoyed long train journeys, as they presented a relatively peaceful way to cross a country and see how people lived, at least at a cursory level, without too much trouble – and this was no exception – at least, it wasn’t until the train jolted to a halt in the middle of the night.
Moving silently but swiftly, Price leapt to his feet, slid his feet in his shoes and grabbed his jacket. Then, as he unlocked the compartment door, Price checked the gun was in his pocket and carefully looked out in to the corridor, only to see a guard walk past.
“Problems?” he said, catching the guard’s eye.
“Broken down freight train ahead of us,” replied the guard, “We have to pull it to a siding so we can take it with us.”
“Oh I see,” said Price, “Well good luck with that. I presume that
’s quite a long job?”
“At least two hours,” said the guard, as he walked away.
“Damn,” thought Price. Despite it’s painfully slow progress, at times feeling like walking pace, he felt relatively safe whilst the train was on the move. But sitting still in the middle of nowhere – particularly in the dead of night. “That’s not good,” he thought, “It presents the perfect opportunity for someone, or even an entire team, to climb on board and create no end of havoc.”
As he stepped back in to his cabin and locked the door again, Price started thinking about his options. He was well aware that this kind of event was a fairly regular occurrence. “There’s no point in overreacting,” he thought, as he walked over to the window, lifted the blind and looked out.
Sure enough, train guards were clearly working up ahead – he could even see the freight train in the distance – so he put the blind back down, switched on the reading light, picked up a newspaper he’d brought with him and sat reading it with his gun on his lap – all the while, listening for any sounds that were out of place.
But the guard had been right, and after some shunting back and forth, around two hours later Price felt the train start to speed forward. They were on their way again, so he turned off the light and laid back down on the bed – although he kept his gun in his hand as he tried to sleep.
Despite closing his eyes though, Price couldn’t relax – his mind was racing – still in a state of heightened awareness – the slightest noise making him open his eyes and re-check his grip on the gun. He couldn’t say why – but something in his head kept repeating, “That stop was planned – it wasn’t a broken down train – and if it was – the break down was rigged.”
It was around 6pm when the train finally arrived in Zimbabwe’s second city, Bulawayo. “Only a couple of hours late,” thought Price, as he checked his watch. “Not so bad after all that. Perhaps my instincts were wrong after all and it was just a break down.”
