SAS Para-Ops: MEGA SET - SAS Para-Ops Books #1, #2, #3, #4, #5 & #6

by Casey Christie

  “Henry, good to see you. This is Mark” said the Captain with a slightly uneasy, grin.

  “Very good to see you too, Captain. And Mr Mark Andrews, I have heard all about you, sir. Good to finally meet you in person” said Henry.

  Mark politely shook the newcomer’s hand but didn’t say anything. He felt slightly overwhelmed by this man.

  The Captain felt the subtle uncertainty and moved things along.

  “Now, Mark, I presume from your hurried message that time is limited, please tell us what you told me yesterday morning, in full, why we are here. Tell us, what have you seen?” said John.

  “There is going to be another attack Captain, today I think, here or across the water, at the O2, at the arena but I feel the danger or part of it will emanate from this side of the water, from the docks. Somehow” said Mark.

  “A sniper.” said Henry while he produced a pipe and casually lit it, inside the hotel restaurant.

  A waiter saw Henry light the pipe and quickly made his way towards the table but was stopped by a manager en route. John nodded his appreciation for the staff overlooking the taboo and illegal smoking inside. Captain Taylor then glared at Henry in disapproval.

  “Oh Captain, it’s only a bit of smoke and we won’t be long, will we dear Mark, I sense we should hurry, am I right?”

  “Yes. A sniper and yes we should hurry.”

  “But tell me Mark” asked John, “what makes this attack different, in the time we have been working together you have foreseen and we have successfully stopped two attacks in old Blighty and all with local police assets. What makes this different?”

  “The nature of the attack. There is at least one sniper – making kill shots that I thought would be impossible for most and there are two ground attackers unlike anything I have ever seen before, even after my weapons identification training with you, Captain. They are men but in full heavy body armour, like black space suits and they are heavily armed, very heavily armed, flame throwers and machine guns, real machine guns this time, belt fed. This is unlike anything I have seen before. And we need to move, they are near, I can sense it.”

  The three men got up as one and left the hotel. As they stepped outside a fourth man joined them and fell in behind and a little to the right of the unit commander.

  “Who is he?” asked Mark.

  “Insurance. His name is Jack. And he doesn’t say much. Now forget about him for the minute and let’s get to the O2. We’ll fly over.”

  The four men crossed the street to the entrance of the Emirates Air Line Royal Docks – London’s only cable car, installed before the London 2012 Olympics. The gondola line travels over the Thames linking the Greenwich Peninsula, where the O2 Arena is situated, and the Royal Docks.

  The docks were a buzz of activity this time of summer. Both the Indian restaurant and Caribbean style outlet were jam packed as was the Thai restaurant directly opposite the cable car station. The only road leading in and up to the Excel exhibition centre was flowing with traffic ferrying patrons to another grand exhibition. A park and ride to The Lady’s concert had been set up. The Crystal – an international headquarters of a multi-national corporation and part gallery was busy with office workers. And the water was eventful too – wake boarders were enjoying themselves on the high speed pulley systems while others were relishing a more relaxing journey across the water on paddle boats. Children and adults alike enjoyed fresh ice cream from a quaint and pretty ice cream truck nearby.

  “I’ll leave you here gentlemen” said Henry. “But Mark, before I depart please do tell me why I should believe you -- or rather how it is you know what you think it is you know?”

  Mark thought about the mysterious man’s question and felt the penetrating gaze of Henry’s stare – he also sensed as though Henry’s left eye was somehow examining him, checking life cyphers, breathing, eye movement heart rate and other vital signs – he was right, it was. He looked at the Captain for guidance. John Taylor, who was Mark’s best friend before he was officially his Captain nodded his approval and reassurance.

  “Because I see it happen before it happens as though it is happening.”

  “Like you saw the Canary Wharf banker attack?”

  “Yes. Like that. Only now we have developed.. medication .. to help..”

  “Stimulate the visions sooner” interjected Taylor. “Now, Henry. That is enough. You need to get to work, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, captain my captain. Mark it has been a pleasure. And silent one” – looking at Jack - “well good to finally know what you look like.”

  And the young gentleman was off. A firm stride and a straight back.

  Only then did Mark realise that Jack was a small Asian man.

  Captain Taylor read Mark’s mind and question.

  “Henry’s going to work, we’ll catch up with him later. And don’t worry about Jack – he’s from a little known and ancient province in Japan called Shimotsuke, and no that’s not his real name, whose is? Anyway, I’ll explain everything else later. Now let’s hurry and catch our flight, I do love flying on these things.” Captain John Taylor was trying to sound more upbeat than he really was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eltanin, the leader of cell one of the Brotherhood briefs his killers; all but two are young, naïve adolescent boys brainwashed and manipulated for Eltanin’s purpose to kill:

  “Today we strike at the heart of all that is anti-god. Their sex, their lies, their propaganda, their filthy lives ruled by drugs and sinful music. Today we will kill no fewer than one thousand non-believers, that is our goal, and we will kill the one they call The Lady – she is pure evil, she walks around in flesh, hers and the flesh of the dead. Today will be the beginning of the great war. Our war.”

  Eltanin – a highly educated extremist born in the US and trained in Iran, Yemen, Somalia and recently in Egypt continues to outline the plan of attack to his men. He explains that this terrorist strike has been four years in the planning. How the weapons were smuggled in from Libya, part by part, and carried by more than three dozen couriers across European borders.

  He commands that the sniper team lead the attack and focus in on the Lady and her entourage first, causing panic and fear – the plan is to cause a stampede into the arena itself and then to follow in with heavily armoured ground assault units, he calls the Brown Bears.

  “Once the Brown Bears are on the ground, debussed from a SUV in the parking lot, I want the sniper team to only protect the Bears – you understand – and as for the Bears on the ground I want them to only target civilians. The Bears will be slow and vulnerable to attack from the rear and although the non-believer police service here do not carry guns they could disarm or tackle the Bears with their horses or the vehicles – snipers watch for this. Bears, kill everything and set fire to everything that cannot be killed.”

  He continues and explains that under no circumstances must the attack be halted. The people, the survivors of the initial attack must be driven into the arena.

  “And there, in the venue I have a final surprise for the damned. Be my shepherds and lead my flock to me, so I may slaughter them. So that I may slaughter them all.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A casual Saturday cricketer licks the ice-cream from the cone and takes a bite of the chocolate protruding from the top of it.

  “Delicious” he says to himself.

  And continues to walk around the water of the Royal Victoria Docks to the Western Beach Apartments, the building where he is going to set up his hide. He has already scouted the area and he knows that this vantage point provides the perfect sphere for attack.

  As he walks past The Crystal, London’s newest landmark, he looks up and admires the cable cars that soar silently above him, gently carrying passengers to and from the O2 arena.

  Within minutes he has entered the residential property via a stolen key card he acquired earlier in the day and takes the stairs to the top of the building. There, in the stairwell, he sets his
large cricket bag on the floor and takes out his specially modified .338 Lapua Magnum Type Two Prototype Sniper Rifle – he carefully places it on a fire hydrant casing in front of him. He then removes his clothes, white shorts and shirt, and puts on his S.K.I.N.S (Shimmering Kinetic Intelligent Nanite Suit)

  He activates the S.K.I.N.S’ on board CPU via voice recognised commands and assembles his rifle, making it ready for action. Lastly he fixes the super suppressor (silencer) onto the muzzle.

  He places the cricket bag filled with his clothes into a fire cupboard at the top of the stairwell and makes his way into the London summer light. He cannot be seen now, though his form creates an eerie shadow. He walks to the corner of the rooftop and gets into the prone position looking down and straight ahead across the water towards the parking lot of the O2 arena.

  He looks through his weapon’s optics (scope) and through the cross hairs he sees vehicles begin to arrive for the night’s performance – he is ready to kill.

  Chapter Thirteen

  At an altitude of 300 ft. the cable car that contains the three Para-Ops men comes to a gentle halt.

  “This is the best vantage point for what is about to happen” says Taylor.

  “Did you have the cable car stopped here John?” asks Andrews.

  “Yes. From here on out, everything, or just about everything you see, we orchestrate. If you look down and to the right, over there, the entrance point to Western Gateway and the Excel Center and the docks. The police have set up a VCP (vehicle check point) and are only allowing in accredited vehicles – our vehicles. Everyone else is being sent to a park and walk.”

  “So the emergency services know what is going on?”

  “No, only Gold Command knows what we know, the men and women on the ground are simply following orders and those orders are to send any concert goers to a park and bus, where we will hold everyone until this is all sorted out.”

  “But what about all the people on the cable cars, and the people I can see heading towards the O2?” said Andrews.

  “The people in the cable cars are all police or military – plain clothed and under cover. The majority of the people in and around the 02 are too.”

  “So you plan on intercepting the terrorists before they even get close enough to attack?”

  “No. What would that achieve? They would simply regroup or another cell would be activated under the leadership of any escaping or remaining members from this cell . We have cast a net but with specific holes in it. We want them to get through and into position. We’ll neutralise them once they are in position to attack, then we will nullify the threat they pose, permanently.”

  “But John, what if we can’t stop them for good, what if we fail, innocent people will die – I have seen it! Surely it’s better to be sure, to cancel the concert and place an iron ring around the arena to ensure they can’t hurt anyone.”

  “That’s what governments around the world have always done, Mark. That’s what this government has always done when intelligence like this is received and that’s why terrorism continues. But not anymore, they’ve had enough, we’ve had enough. Why do you think our unit was formed – to do what none of the other services can – to play the same game as the terrorists. We will kill them Mark, we will succeed and they will fail. Civilised society needs to continue with its everyday life, children and families deserve the freedom to enjoy watching their idols perform unhindered. To cancel the show and go into a military style lockdown would only encourage further acts of terrorism. The game has changed. And we are the game changers.”

  Mark said nothing and looked into the face of the now standing Taylor. For the first time he truly saw the soldier that Captain John Taylor was and the seriousness of his disposition. This was war to John and he wanted, he demanded, nothing less than the blood of his enemies. Mark glanced at the petit Asian man named Jack sitting behind Taylor. He seemed calm, yet focused. His eyes blazed with thought and intent.

  “Okay, John, I trust you and I’m obviously not in a position to second guess your judgment, but then what is your plan? Why am I here? Why are we here a few hundred metres above ground – how can we help from this distance and what is your grand plan John, sorry.. I meant to say.. Captain.”

  “Cut that crap and don’t take that tone with me Mark. First and foremost you are my friend so just call me John. And secondly I realise this must be hard for you, you’re not a soldier, I know and the thought of guns and violence makes you uneasy and you’d probably want to be anywhere else but here right now but..”

  “But I’m a freak that sees the future. An alcoholic psychic that happened to befriend a man who works for the government as a soldier, and no ordinary soldier, but a bloody SAS operator!”

  Mark shakes his head before placing it in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. John clears his throat uneasily.

  “Well um, actually Mark, our meeting was no coincidence, we’ve, I’ve known about your abilities for a long time.”

  “What, you set me up?! You set our meeting up, you contrived our first encounter at the AA meeting and at a chance dinner party later that week!”

  Mark rose to his feet now flushed with anger.

  Now Jack spoke up for the first time. “Gentlemen, please. Focus. We have work to do – you can finish your lovers’ quarrel later. Captain, please continue and let us in on your great plan.”

  Both men looked at the little man, embarrassed by the innuendo of his comment.

  John was about to say something in defence of his manhood but his military brain took control.

  “Fair enough Jack. Mark, everything will be explained. Let’s just get through this first.”

  Mark, now also embarrassed by what he realised must have looked like a couple’s spat, sat down and waited to hear his Captain’s plan.

  “A sharpshooter. I have a sharpshooter in place and ready to strike.”

  There was a moment’s pause and the cable car was silent. A deafening silence.

  “A sniper, Captain, surely you mean you have a team of snipers placed strategically all over the docks and the O2 and on all the rooftops and in all the high rise apartments. Surely, that is what you mean, John” said Mark.

  “No. The enemy would identify normal sharpshooters which would mean they would either kill our men or call off the attack. Either way it would be a failure. So no, Mark, not a team of snipers – just one. But he is no ordinary sniper.”

  “The Shadow?” said Jack.

  Both Mark and John now looked at the seated, usually silent man.

  “Yes, they call him that. I simply call him a sharpshooter and an asset.”

  “Hm. I never would of thought he would look like that” said Jack with an almost imperceptible smile.

  “Indeed, Katsu, and most men would never picture you too, looking the way you do.”

  “Okay, I have no idea what the two of you are talking about but let me just get this straight – the safety, the lives, of hundreds, if not thousands of people are now in the hands of one man, just one single solitary man, a sniper? And at your command, at your decision, John.”

  “Yes but there is of course a plan B and a plan C etc. etc. . But if it gets to plan B then we are all out of the picture, finito, we become redundant and the circus continues without us. Our unit will also probably be disbanded. This is it for us fellas.”

  “But how will we know if ‘we’ meaning ‘our’ sniper fails? How do we know to move to plan B? And what is plan B?” asked Mark.

  “Does he always ask this many questions?” said Jack.

  “Yes, he can’t help himself, he’s a banker. And that’s the beauty of a sniper, Mark. We will know from his very first shot if he has failed or not and the plan will progress from every shot of his onwards. If he misses or is hit himself then plan B kicks in.”

  “And what exactly is plan B?”

  “War, Mark. War. The army will move in, they have over a hundred men in full combat readiness on standby, they have armoured v
ehicles and choppers. If we fail, if our shooter fails, then they go in. They shut everything down, the media find out what is happening and there will be open warfare on the streets of London, well perhaps not in combat but in the minds of the civilians. Our government will then declare war on the country that sent these men to attack us.”

  “But then surely it would have been better to have just stopped the whole thing as I have already said. Then war wouldn’t have been an option at all?”

  “War is always an option. And these are the only two scenarios the War Room at number 10 deemed agreeable – as I said Mark, there will be no more bowing down to terrorism. It’s war, either by us, covertly or overtly in full view of the world. Now, let’s just hope our man is as good as I know he is. He truly is our last option before war.”

  Mark suddenly felt faint and closed his eyes involuntarily.

  “They are here, John, they are setting up - Their shooters are almost ready.”

  Captain John Taylor put his hand to the radio mic on his jacket and activated his covert comms:

  “Gold Command, stand by, stand by, stand by. Sierra One, are you in position?”

  Captain Taylor receives a response in the positive and gives the order to shoot on sight. On instruction from Gold Command the cable cars start once more and the three men begin their descent towards the planned point of terrorist attack.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Greenwich Peninsula, home of the O2 Arena.

  Eltanin’s men lay five across on the roof of the Ravensbourne building. Two of the men, the spotters, had acquired jobs at the structure five weeks earlier as contract cleaners. They had taken the night shift the evening before and had slept at the building in a hidden hideaway throughout the day. Hours earlier they had opened the building and allowed in the three snipers and their weapons that now lay next to them.

  The five terrorists lay under the cover of a camouflaged blanket, not army camo, or normal jungle, desert or multicam gear but camouflaged by the strange and ugly tones of dark brown, silver and Champagne – merging the men into the “modern” design of the institution.