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

by Casey Christie

  “That’s exactly what I want him to do. It’ll help clear his mind. Besides he needs the wet work training.”

  “But boss I have been trying to get on rotation to train with Katsu’s gunfighters for almost two years now!”

  “Your time will come, Geordie, but for now I need you here.”

  Geordie cursed softly under his breath.

  “Now boys, keep eyes on here and if you need to act, then do so. With prejudice!”

  Captain John Taylor opened the car door and stepped outside to walk to where his Ford and driver were waiting, four vehicles behind the Land Rover.

  “Boss, before you leave is there any word on Nick and Brian?” said Terry.

  “They are in a stable condition at the facility. They’ll survive but Nick may never walk again, without some aid.”

  “And Eltanin?”

  “He escaped during the firefight.”

  Chapter Eight

  Reiko closed the door to her small Sukiya, a traditional tea room. Her husband Katsu joined her on the patio where together they sat around a table and each enjoyed a hot drink before sunrise.

  “He should be awake soon, and I would say almost back to full strength” she said.

  “He is strong” replied Katsu.

  “Yes, he would have to be, to carry that burden of sight that he does. Are you going to tell him?”

  “Tell him about what?”

  “About the adelirium that the captain’s doctors administered and that is probably responsible for his confusion.”

  “I will tell him all he wishes to know. Besides, in London he was willingly taking the concoction, he wanted to try and finally control his life and his visualisations.”

  “Will you train him?”

  “In what way?”

  “You know, as a gunfighter?”

  “No, I don’t think I will. He is a good man, a peaceful man. He needs not to know how to kill.”

  “But you are a gunfighter Katsu, perhaps the greatest gunfighter in the world, and I know you are a good man, a peaceful man” said Reiko with a gentle smile.

  “In one sentence you said I was both the greatest gunfighter in the world and a peaceful man – this does not make sense my love.”

  “But you are bound by a code of ethics, by honour.”

  “Yes, this is true, but I am effectively also a mercenary now. The old ways are, well, things are different now.”

  “But you are still bushi my love, you are still samurai. The only difference is that now you don’t just serve nobility and royalty but you serve humanity.”

  “I serve humanity through working with foreign intelligence agencies and by training their soldiers? You have such an interesting way of looking at the world my dear.”

  “You help these countries fight terrorists and you train the men that keep their countries safe. Yes you serve humanity.”

  “I wonder what my great grandfather would make of all this, all this change. I wonder if he would feel shame.”

  “Now you are getting old my Katsu, for do you forget that it was your grandfather who led the way to move from archaic weapons to more modern instruments? In the beginning he was shunned, he even considered taking his own life but he persevered. And look at what he has built. Now you command the most skilled and revered gunfighters in the world and governments from all over the globe come to you to help train their protectors.”

  “Yes, but how do we know who is serving humanity’s best interest, which governments?”

  “You seem to know.”

  “And why do you say that?”

  “Because of the governments you have chosen not to work with - You turned down the Chinese? The Iranians? The Pakistanis? And why then, if you do not know who has humanity’s best interests at heart, did you turn down that crazy Gadhafi and all the other dictators when they came to you for bodyguards or training?”

  “They couldn’t afford our services” said the gun master with a hint of a smile.

  “Let’s go inside and have breakfast, I am sure our guest must be very hungry” said Reiko, knowing that the discussion was at a natural end.

  Chapter Nine

  “Good morning” said Mark as he approached the kitchen table.

  Reiko moved away from preparing breakfast and pulled a chair out for her guest and gestured for him to sit.

  “Thank you.”

  “So Mr Andrews, how are you this morning?” said Katsu.

  “I feel as though I have been drinking for a month, in short I have a hangover from Hell.”

  “Ah, so you are not feeling just dandy then, is that the word, dandy?”

  “No, that is perhaps the exact opposite of how I feel. Dandy means..”

  “I know what it means Mr Andrews, but my question was, why are you not feeling dandy?”

  Mark paused for a moment and thought about his host’s question.

  “Is this some Japanese riddle?”

  “No it is merely a question, a question of choice.”

  Mark paused for thought once more. Reiko leaned over his shoulder and poured him a glass of fresh orange juice.

  “Are you saying I have a choice about how I feel?”

  “Yes. Yes I am.”

  “With all due respect Katsu, I am in no mood for early morning philosophy after what I have just been through.”

  “It will make sense later. I will explain what I mean about always having a choice about how you physically feel during your induction training. For now just eat your food, you need its nourishment.”

  “Training? What training?”

  “I am going to train you in the art of the gun. Now eat.”

  For the rest of the mealtime Mark Andrews and his husband and wife hosts sat in a comfortable silence while enjoying a delicious traditional Japanese breakfast of steamed rice, miso soup and grilled fish.

  Chapter Ten

  Mark finished his breakfast after helping himself to a second and then a third helping. He immediately felt better for it. He rose from his chair and thanked Reiko.

  “It’s my pleasure, Mark. Now please feel free to use the bathroom to freshen up, once finished you’ll find a change of clothes on your bed. ”

  “Thank you.”

  “And when you are ready please meet me outside” said Katsu.

  Andrews enjoyed a warm bath and a meticulous shave. Afterwards he found a fresh set of clothing sat neatly on top of his pillow - Black tracksuit pants, a black V-neck shirt, a light loosely fitting jacket and a pair of modern trainers.

  He donned the clothing and joined Katsu outside.

  The sun had just risen and the air was fresh. Morning dew moistened the ground and the smell of the green grass permeated the air. Birds sang. Sheep and working cattle on the paddy fields could be heard in the distance, their bells gently clanging.

  “Walk with me, Mark.”

  The two men set off from the top of the tiny hill where perched Katsu’s home, down into a large valley flanked by imposing mountains.

  “Your.. garden is astonishing” said Mark.

  “Thank you. But it is not mine or anyone’s, we are merely temporary visitors here. The mountains will be here long after my body has decayed and returned to the earth.”

  The master gunfighter and his soon to be student continued to walk for some time, in pleasurable silence until they reached the exposed mouth of what looked like a natural cave.

  Katsu casually put out a hand to signal Mark to stop.

  “Remember this route, you will need to be here before sunrise each day and you will leave only after sunset each afternoon. Now please do as I do.”

  Mark nodded his head in understanding.

  Katsu bowed deeply and put his hands in the prayer position. Mark did the same. The two men stayed in the arched situation for some time. Mark felt stupid and risked looking up to see who or what he was bowing to. He saw nothing.

  Five minutes later and still bent over, Andrews, a London banker for most of his life, grew im
patient and stood upright. He looked at the little gunfighter and noticed he was perfectly still in the same subservient position.

  “Katsu, what the hell are we..”

  Mark felt a sharp blow to the back of his legs behind his knees which caused him to fall forward involuntarily. A hand then snaked around his head and pressed against his mouth. He smelt and felt a poison take hold. He began to fade into the darkness but before he went he heard the unmistakable sound of a 9MM cocked behind his head.

  Chapter Eleven

  Stratford, London.

  A Red Honda Accord pulled out of a small driveway. Two Asian men were inside – the driver and a passenger.

  “That’s unusual. They’re normally inside until morning” said Geordie.

  “Well it is a Friday you know Geordie, normal people usually socialise over a weekend” said Terry.

  “Normal, you think they are normal?”

  Geordie fired up the Land Rover’s engine and waited until a decent following distance had been created between the suspected terrorists and themselves. Fifteen minutes later and the two SAS troopers found themselves parked outside of the Westfield shopping complex at Stratford City.

  Geordie pulled the vehicle into a vacant parking spot and left the engine running. The Red Honda Accord was idling at the side of the road and the passenger gestured to a gaggle of school girls standing in uniform outside of the entrance to the shopping centre. Two young girls, no older than fifteen years of age, came over to the car window. The suspected terrorists and the juvenile ladies spoke for some time before the back rear passenger door to the vehicle was opened and the girls got inside. The car drove off.

  “They better be fucking related to those wee lasses, mate!” said Terry.

  “Why do I have a horrible feeling that they are not” replied Geordie.

  The SAS operatives continued to follow the suspicious men from a discreet distance.

  The red Honda pulled up to a local Cost Cutter and the front passenger exited the vehicle and ran inside. Three minutes later and he returned carrying two shopping bags containing 12 cans of lager, a bottle of vodka and a litre of orange juice. He jumped into the car and passed two beers to the underage occupants. Rap music was blaring out of the vehicle and the two innocents in the back both sang along to the “lyrics” -

  “Smack my bitch up”

  Through the Honda’s rear view mirror Geordie saw the driver steal a wicked look at the girls in the back seat as an unmistakable leer creased his face.

  “They are grooming them. Those two bastards are grooming those little girls.”

  Terry swore loudly to himself and punched the dashboard.

  Chapter Twelve

  Somewhere near the Chiran District, Japan.

  Mark sat upright in a hard wooden chair, his hands tied behind his back, he opened his eyes to a blur. His ears were ringing. He could make out four human like figures standing a metre each apart in front of him.

  “You are finally awake” said a youthful voice.

  Mark tried to respond but he could not as masking tape kept his mouth shut.

  “How do you feel, banker?” said the same boyish voice.

  Mark wanted to say that he felt like hell, that he felt ill, sick and in pain and constrained. He could not see clearly and he could not hear properly. Of course he felt terrible.

  What a stupid question, and he must know how I feel Andrews thought to himself.

  Just like Katsu this morning asking about how I feel as though I have a choice in the matter.

  “We always have a choice about how we feel, banker.”

  What is this? What is a happening here, is this a test?

  “Think about why you think you feel unwell. Is it because you think that you cannot move your arms?”

  Andrews thought about this and realised that yes, not being able to move his arms was causing him discomfort.

  “Then move them and feel better.”

  How can I if you have tied them behind my back! Mark thought to himself angrily.

  “Use just a tiny bit of that strength you have in that big body of yours and break free of your restraints, banker.”

  The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. With not considerable effort Mark Andrew’s broke free of his restraints.

  They must have been loosely fitted.

  “I tied your hands myself. Now don’t you feel better already.”

  Mark thought about this once more and yes he felt better but not okay. He could still not see and hear properly and he could not speak.

  “Perhaps you would also feel better if you could express yourself, curse at me. You now have the instruments to free your big city mouth.”

  Embarrassed from not doing it immediately Mark hurriedly tore the duct tape from his mouth. He did it clumsily and in too much of a hurry so that it hurt. He groaned in pain.

  “Slow is fast, banker. Go slowly and carefully and you will get there quickly.”

  “Who the hell are you?” demanded Andrews but his voice was not harsh or angry.

  “Interesting. Most new inductees take this opportunity to swear at the ‘voice’ – I know I did.”

  “I don’t like to use curse words, besides I feel no anger or violence from you.”

  “Okay, perhaps I’m having an off day. By the way can you hear properly?”

  “No. There is a ringing in my ears.”

  “Then end that ringing.”

  “But how?”

  “Stop listening to it. It is the same as the sensation of pain - Stop focusing on it and it lessens or disappears completely depending on your training and will-power of course. Now look on the floor in front of your feet. What do you see?”

  Mark looked at his feet and could barely make out the shape of them. A few centimetres forward and he made out what he thought was the rough shape of a pistol.

  “What do you see?”

  “I cannot be sure, I still cannot see properly, I think it’s a ..”

  “Yes, it’s a pistol. Don’t worry about your vision. You do not need it. Now pick up this pistol, stay seated and fire two rounds into each of the three dummies spread out in front of you.”

  “But I am no gunfighter, I cannot shoot targets on command and anyway I see four figures in front of me, not three.”

  “Pick up the Glock and fire two shots into each of the three dummies in front of you. Then your induction will end, I will answer all of your questions and your training will begin. Now do as I suggest.”

  As though by its own volition Andrews’s body began to move. He felt himself lean forward, he felt his right hand move forward. He felt the cold steel of the 9MM fit comfortably into his large hands. He felt himself lean back into the chair and he saw his right arm raise up in front of him. He felt his index finger begin to squeeze the trigger.

  His arms panned the room from left to right

  Bang, bang.

  Bang, bang.

  He paused on this target, did not fire and continued to sweep to the right.

  Bang, bang.

  For moments Mark just sat there with the firearm fixed on the final target, unsure of exactly what had just happened.

  “Well done” said the voice. “Now you can remove the blindfold covering your eyes.”

  To his astonishment the former banker realised that he was wearing a blindfold that obscured his vision. He carefully removed it and saw standing just a metre in front of him a young man dressed in a traditional Japanese black komodo. To his left were two mannequins and to his right one A4 piece of paper cut into the shape of a person. Each of the mannequins had two bullet holes in its torso, the A4 piece of paper contained no bullet marks.

  The unharmed man standing in front of him had long raven black hair tied in a knot around his neck and he wore a silver pistol on each side of his waist. The good looking young man smiled and said:

  “Thank you for not shooting me, Mark. My name is Wang and I will be your tutor. Congratulations, you have passed induction. Although
you missed the final target. But I am uninjured, so for that I am grateful.”

  “But I could have killed you!”

  “Perhaps, but then again I am one of Katsu’s Forty and had I felt you were going to pull the trigger on me I am sure I would have taken some form of evasive action.”

  “But I felt myself pointing the gun at you, or at what I thought was another target, but I did not fire.”

  “Exactly, you did not fire as your intuition took over. And that was the entire point of this exercise. Here you will learn to use the gun as an extension of your body and to do that you must never take aim and you must never think. You must shoot and kill your enemy instinctively through intuitive gun combat. Welcome to the training ground of the Gunfighters.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Captain John Taylor and Katsu the gun master sat under a tree, drinking tea on a hill top overlooking the Great Valley - home of the gun fighting samurai. A light wind rustled the leaves above their heads and further above the tree tops in a cloudless sky two ravens soared, gently ly riding the warm thermals.

  “How was your flight from London, Captain?”

  “Full of concern, Katsu. There will be another attack on London this year. We know that for sure. We just don’t know when or where. And Eltanin escaped en route to Guantanamo.”

  “Yes, then you must be concerned.”

  “And you are not?”

  “No. What will be, will be. Though, I am sure you are tracking his every move” said the gunfighter with an almost imperceptible hint of a knowing smile.

  The SAS Captain was almost surprised by the samurai’s knowledge, or was it a guess? For he was right – a nanite tracking device had been implanted in the small of the terrorist’s back, in the base of his spine.

  “Perhaps, but for how long will I be able to keep track?”

  “Where is he now, Captain?”

  “Istanbul, en route, we think, to Syria.”

  “That makes sense, the current civil war will provide great cover and a greater distraction from whatever he may be up to. What will you do when he reaches his destination?”