by M G Leslie
Rather than be the first person to leave the train, as is often every passengers aim, Price slowly made his way through the carriages towards the front of the train – the idea being to spend as little time as possible actually walking along the platform and drawing attention to himself.
Once he’d reached the first passenger carriage though, Price stepped down on to the platform, carefully surveying the scene before him through his sunglasses.
As he had commented to a new recruit some years earlier – sunglasses are a truly wonderful invention and serve at least four extremely useful purposes.
Firstly, the obvious one – they stop you being blinded by the bright light of the sun. Secondly, they help to keep dust out of your eyes – particularly useful in desert climates. And thirdly, as an intelligence officer, they allow you to look at people without them knowing you’re staring straight at them – as long as you don’t move your head and make it too obvious.
The recruit had looked back at Price with a quizzical expression and replied, “I thought you said four Sir?”
Price remembered laughing and saying, “Very true. They’re also good for checking out cute girls!”
As he replayed the conversation in his mind, Price started to make his way off the station platform, noting an argument that was playing out in front of him. It seemed that a passenger, who was blocked from view by a station official, was arguing with another official at the platform exit – indeed, whilst Price couldn’t see his face, he could hear a loud voice and see arms waving around angrily.
Immediately suspicious of this kind of scenario, Price slowed to a halt and pretended to check his shoelaces whilst looking at the men using his peripheral vision. Then, the official blocking Price’s view of the passenger, turned and started to walk back down the platform – giving Price a clear view of both men at the exit.
“Dammit!” thought Price – immediately recognising Pale-faced – the man he’d first seen in Livingston the previous day. Then, as the official who was walking down the platform, reached him, Price stood up again, nodded his head in the direction of the men and said, “Trouble?”
The official slowed down as he went to pass Price and said, “No ticket. Must have jumped on the train whilst we were stopped in the middle of the night.”
Taking advantage of the situation, Price replied, “Yeah well, you may want to search him – he tried to sell me drugs. Knocked on the door of my compartment and got pretty nasty about it actually. At one point I thought I was going to have to call the guard.”
The official stopped and looked at Price with some suspicion, so Price continued, “I’m just saying that’s what happened – it’s up to you if you want to let it go – I don’t want any trouble. But I can tell you – him not having a ticket is the least of your problems. ”
The guard didn’t reply, so Price stood up and started to make his way towards the exit. However, a few moments later, he was sure he heard the official speak in to a walkie-talkie that had been clipped to his belt. Price couldn’t understand what was being said, as it appeared to be in the local language that’s spoken by the majority of Zimbabwean’s, ChiShona. However, as he walked past Pale-faced and made his way towards the station exit, realising that he had clearly been identified in the process, he saw security men running towards the platform. “That should keep him busy for a while,” he thought. “Although, probably not long enough – but at least enough time to get out of the station.”
Price had a few hours to kill before his next connection to Harare, so he headed for the legendary Bulawayo Club – with the beginnings of a plan to lose his tail, formulating in his head as he walked.
Another remnant of Zimbabwe’s former colonial times, the magnificent white-washed imperial palace, now operating as a hotel, has an astonishing bar and billiard room – the perfect place to spend a few quiet hours.
“That’s a classic colonial building,” Price thought as he walked towards the entrance – noting its similarity to the main entrance of the Raffles Hotel in Singapore.
Price entered the grand-looking bar and walked casually across the hard wood floor, seemingly without a care in the world. As he looked around at the surroundings, he caught the eye of the barman, who then gave him a polite wave, as if to say, “Please take a seat.”
Price nodded his thanks and chose a seat in the far corner away from the door and on the opposite wall to the bar itself – a long wooden affair extending almost the entire length of the room, with just about every imaginable drink and glass on show.
With his back to a wall and windows to his left, Price now had a good view of guests and staff alike. So he mentally noted his options for cover and a hasty exit, should the need arise – all the while watching a waiter approach his table via his peripheral vision.
“Good evening Sir, can I get you something to drink?”
Price looked up and smiled, “Yes please. A Bloody Mary – spicy – and I’ll take a look at the food menu if you’d be so kind?”
“Thank you Sir,” replied the waiter, who quickly retrieved a food menu from the bar top before placing the order for the drink with the barman.
Meanwhile, Price retrieved a cheap Nokia phone from his bag, inserted a pre-paid SIM card and switched on the phone. He had purchased several of Nokia’s cheapest phones and a number of pre-paid SIM cards whilst he was in Hong Kong – all with international calls and SMS features enabled and a minimal credit pre-loaded.
Whilst Price was well aware that a simple SMS or phone call would give away his position to anyone snooping on the Zimbabwe cell phone network, he also knew he had to provide an update to his Chief – and they had agreed that he would avoid the usual secure encrypted application on his mobile phone. So once the phone was ready and had a signal, Price sent an SMS that simply read:
AM ON MY WAY. MISSED A FRIEND AT THE BORDER AND AGAIN JUST NOW. WILL MSG AGAIN IN 2 DAYS. P
Thousands of miles away, the Chief’s mobile phone buzzed, so he picked it up and read the message, smiling to himself as he replied:
OK. NO NEWS HERE. SUGGEST YOU CONTINUE ON AS DISCUSSED. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ME TO SPEAK TO YOUR FRIEND. ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAY. KEEP IN TOUCH. SEE YOU SOON.
Price was pleased to get a prompt response from his Chief and read the message as his drink arrived.
So the Chief was offering assistance if required – that was good news – as was the last phrase, which basically meant he should continue as planned.
“Good,” he thought to himself, as he ordered a steak sandwich and French fries before settling down to read a local newspaper he’d picked up in the hotel reception – or at least, that’s what he appeared to be doing. In reality, however, Price was listening to the conversations of other people in the bar, as he was trying to find someone who owned a car and was likely to be travelling the next day.
As if luck would have it, as he finished his meal, paid the bill and stood up to leave, Price heard an American couple discussing their plans for the next day – they had hired a car and would be driving to the Victoria Falls in the morning. “That’s an opportunity not to be missed,” he said to himself as he walked over to the couple.
“Excuse me,” he said, as the couple looked up from their seat. “I hope you don’t mind my intruding, but I couldn’t help hearing you saying that you’re visiting the Victoria Falls tomorrow?”
“That’s right,” the man replied with quizzical expression on his face.
Price, thought, “Hmmm, West Coast from the accent – probably California.” Then he held his hands up, palms facing the man as if to say, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause trouble,” and spoke, “I just came from the Victoria Falls, and just thought I’d mention to a fellow traveller – it’s a wonderful sight as I’m sure you know – but do see if you can spend a night in the Victoria Falls Hotel because that has it’s own terrace and you can see the spray from the hotel grounds. It is truly amazing, so I just thought I’d mention it.”
The couple
seemed to relax and showed interest as Price went on to explain the layout of the falls and the hotel – all the while looking for the opportunity to execute his real reason for speaking to them.
Then he got lucky again – just as the couple finished their drinks and said they were going to leave, the lady excused herself to, as she put it, “To visit the washroom.”
As she stood, Price pointed out the direction of the bar’s toilets. And then, just for a brief moment, they all found themselves facing away from the bar and, more significantly from Price’s point of view, the couple’s luggage that was sitting next to their table.
As the lady said, “I’ll be right back,” and started to walk towards the exit, Price grabbed the opportunity and dropped his locked, and now silenced, Nokia phone in to an outside pocket of their bag. It looked like it wasn’t one they were using – so he hoped it wouldn’t be discovered before their trip.
However, it would, he surmised, be tracked by anyone who had picked up his SMS to the Chief and was no doubt already working on pinpointing his location.
Once the lady returned, Price excused himself and made his way out of the hotel and back to the station where he boarded Bulawayo-Harare train – again having paid extra for sole occupancy of a sleeper compartment – it was expected to be another 12-13 hour journey, so he wanted some privacy.
From his research, Price knew the train carriages were fairly old – originally introduced in 1998. And indeed, he could see they were very much the worse for wear. In fact, whilst the compartment window and screen still worked, in other words, opened, closed and locked in position, the main compartment door lock was broken. There was still a security chain though, so Price retrieved a padlock from his luggage and used that to secure the door closed. Then a short while later, the train started to move, so Price settled back for the journey ahead – again checking and re-checking his Smith and Wesson was loaded and ready should the need arise.
As the train sped it’s way towards Harare, the man Price had successfully avoided at the station and nicknamed Pale-faced, had managed to talk his way out of being arrested. Price’s story had delayed him and caused an inconvenience, but that was all. And now as he read an email, he set off once again on Price’s trail:
SMS SENT FROM BULAWAYO. TRACKING CELLPHONE. WILL PROVIDE LOCATION UPDATE IF IT MOVES. FOR NOW ASSUME HE’S HEADED FOR HARARE. GO THERE AND CONFIRM VISUAL ID WHEN YOU GET THERE
Fortunately for Price, he was only an hour outside of Harare when the American couple set off in their car towards the Victoria Falls – without having discovered the Nokia phone stowed in their luggage. So as Price stepped off the train an hour later, in Harare’s main terminal, Pale-faced, who was in a car and only an hour or so behind him, received another message from his contact in London:
URGENT CORRECTION. HE’S TURNED BACK. MUST HAVE SEEN YOU. HE’S NOW TRACKING BACK TO VICTORIA FALLS. GO THERE AND CONFIRM VISUAL ID. CONFIRM WHEN THERE – REPEAT – NOT HARARE – NOT HARARE
Having been on the road for several hours by now, the man cursed as he violently spun the car around, causing a huge screech from the tyres. Then, as he literally stamped on the accelerator, the tyres screeched again as they struggled for traction – now heading back towards Bulawayo and the Victoria Falls.
Price, blissfully unaware that his misdirection plan had worked, maintained his usual level of alertness as he walked over to a coffee shop in Harare’s main station – where he sat down, and ordered a Cafe Latte and a sandwich.
As he again surveyed the passers by, there was no sign of anyone watching him – at least, until a short, well-dressed African lady walked on to the station concourse and headed straight towards him.
At first sight, she looked like a business lady who was about to buy a coffee – clearly, a successful one by the quality of her clothing, the leather handbag slung over her left shoulder and the business newspaper discreetly tucked under the other one. However, as she arrived at the table where Price was sitting, he stood up, embraced her warmly and then they both sat down.
“I’m so pleased to see you,” she said.
“You’re looking well, “ Price replied, “It must be, what… five or six years at least?”
“Yes, but you haven’t changed at all. I think you must be enjoying your work.”
“It has its good and bad moments – like anything else.”
“And which is this may I ask?”
Price smiled – although he couldn’t help thinking that was a strange question for her to ask – so he said, “It’s always good to see an old friend. How are you holding up?”
“I’m OK. I don’t go out much – just to get food and things.”
Price gave an understanding nod, “Don’t worry. We’ll have everything cleared up very soon. Did you bring it?”
The lady smiled, then, nodding towards the newspaper that she had placed on the table, and said, “Yes.”
Price gave the newspaper the slightest glance before saying, “Thank you. In that case, whilst it’s lovely to see you again, I should probably go. I may be being followed and the last thing you need is more trouble.”
“I understand,” said the lady as she stood up. “Take good care of yourself and keep safe.”
Price stood politely as the lady picked up her bag and walked away – leaving the newspaper on the table.
Price finished his coffee, then picked up the paper and headed for an exit – whilst also glancing around to see if anyone had been watching the meeting. Since nothing stood out as suspicious, he assumed he was alone – although the sight of Pale-faced in Bulawayo still played on his mind, so he didn’t head directly for his hotel – instead making several detours aimed at identifying if anyone was actually following him.
It was only after around twenty minutes, satisfied he was definitely not being followed, that Price finally turned towards the hotel and checked in.
8. Harare
In the safety of a suite in the Marriott Hotel and with a beer in one hand, Price unwrapped the newspaper and retrieved a hand drawn map of the CS Research headquarters.
As he studied the layout of the building, he started to think about his potential entry and exit points – would he attempt to enter undetected or would he go in with a disguise and a story? Would he be there to destroy anything he found on the first visit – or would this be purely a fact-finding mission?
On looking at the map, it appeared that CS Research occupied six floors of a modern ten-story building towards the outskirts of the city. Although by cross-referencing it with satellite photos and a street map he had brought with him, it was clearly still quite a built up area. “Tall concrete buildings, lots of glass and big wide roads,” he thought, “That sums up most of the business districts in the world.”
Continuing to study the maps, Price wished he had time to identify a location nearby from where he could watch the comings and goings over several days, to get a feel for the way people in the building worked – what time they arrived and departed – when the lights came on and off – lights that stayed on all night – if so which floors – who else shared the building. However, he knew this would not be possible. If his decoy with the Nokia phone had worked, he had at best, maybe twelve hours before they would discover it and start looking for him in Harare.
If on the other hand, it hadn’t worked? Well that was hard to predict – worst case, he could even be walking in to a trap. “I’ll just have to watch my back,” he thought. And then shortly afterwards, “All things considered, a nice quiet entry in the early hours of the morning is probably the best solution – that’s always the time where security is the weakest.”
A quick search of the Internet allowed him to identify a few other companies that occupied the same building. As he made a note of each of the company names he went on to search for information on each one. He wanted to find a company that had been there for quite a while – ideally several years – as he wanted some historical information to refer to in a conversation i
f he was questioned when entering the building.
Eventually, he identified a recruitment agency – and an international one at that. “That’ll do,” he said to himself. He’d go in the front door in the very early morning as a member of that company, and enter CS Research via a communal fire exit stairway.
With that in mind, he visited the Marriott Hotel’s extensive business centre and made himself a few fake business cards with the company’s logo – even managing to get one of them laminated with his photo.
His cover would be someone visiting from the head office in the US – so he used the International Address on the cards, whilst listing the Harare address on the reverse – the idea being that this would provide an explanation as to why his pass would be different from anyone who usually worked in the building – just in case the guard asked.
The next morning, after a short nights sleep, Price approached the security desk on the ground floor of the CS Research office block. It was just after 6am – early enough to avoid any regular employees, but not too early in his estimation – as he didn’t want to raise suspicion.
For added authenticity, he was dressed in a traditional black business suit – his rucksack slung over his right shoulder. “They’ll think that’s for my laptop,” he thought – reflecting on the assumptions people make – even when providing security in an office block.
Certainly, the security in government intelligence and security organisations is profoundly different from most private organisations. Thinking back to his own organisation, Price noted that visitors are assumed to have no right of entry and are searched extremely thoroughly – the burden being on the individual to prove his right of access. Whereas in most office blocks, he always felt that, provided you have a reasonably well-constructed and plausible story, they will let you in.
“It’s almost as if they assume a right of entry – which is very useful for people like me,” he thought as he withdrew the fake ID from his pocket and said, “Good morning. All quiet on the night shift I hope,” thereby, making reference to the fact that the guard would have almost certainly been working all night.
