Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  It was assumed––correctly as it happened––to be an excellent sign that the South African involvement in the affair was still mostly undetected. If there were any exceptional survivors, they were either too unwell or too unconscious to speak. Or they did not know, or could not remember, anything significant anyway. Since the South Africans had been made aware by Bradley some two weeks before that a team had been listening in on all base communications; the apparent assumption was that they must have also picked up on the message that had been uploaded, which was meant to have died with everyone. A survivor might, therefore, cause huge problems. The incident was so far being treated as a massive accident. That is what it was meant to look like. If it were found to be otherwise, it wouldn't take long for the warships to set sail and full-scale war to break out. There was no way any African country could stand against a British backlash. As a precaution, there had been lots of information planted, conveniently hidden, to make initial blame hard to find with China, Russia and even the Americans all looking a bit guilty. Little did the Africans know that the Chinese were already very much under British suspicion. It had been their invention that had been stolen. It seemed likely that the Chinese would want to discredit any future British energy breakthrough, delivering a blow of such magnitude that the country would collapse. The truth was that neither China nor the Africans had known how severe the incident would be, but far enough away from it all, with a Europe no longer in the picture, it would make the world once again a level playing field. America would lose one of its closest allies, who were also its most influential economic partner. The market was open for a new superpower, and the main players were already fighting to get into pole position.

  The African continent certainly wanted its part in that. Their joint secret service efforts had got them a long way and gave them a chance for their shot at glory. The two South African field agents, one of about a dozen teams currently on the ground somewhere in the UK, were told to stay in the shadows, for now, to keep watching the situation and gather all the information they could. If there was any chance that this man was still alive, and knew something, then they were to make sure it never got out. Containment was to be the primary goal; at this moment, they just had no idea of the complexity of the situation into which they were walking.

  One Year Ago

  The true identity of the African secret service team, which was mainly operating undercover as caterers, was leaked by the Black Ops team to MI5 shortly before midnight. Evidence had been planted following the earlier shooting of the Chinese businessman to lead the British Security Service to find and trace those responsible. MI5 moved fast, arresting everyone within a few minutes of each other, but still shooting erupted at what turned out to be the Africans' base camp. Three men were killed and two others wounded. Another two were taken into custody for questioning. As was normal in the situation, the Chinese were told about the attack, that the three terrorists solely responsible for the previous attack had been killed and that the risk was now gone. The other targets were free to go and could continue whatever it was they were in the UK to do. MI5 did not tell the Chinese about the two who had been wounded, nor the two now held captive; it was better that the Chinese assumed all had been killed. MI5 could, therefore, interrogate them all themselves and learn properly who they all were and how they had come to be spying on them. In time, they would be released back to Africa and denied entry back to the West. But that would be some months away. For now, the word was that all terrorists had been killed. The security alert had been reduced. Things could return to normal, and the Chinese contingent could be around the table again tomorrow for day three of the talks. A new team of catering staff, British nationals, would be sourced and used for the remainder of the talks. It had been a successful closure of the risk of anything more getting out, but had also made the British aware of this otherwise unknown threat. How much else the Africans had learned was also a worry. They'd been nowhere near this deal before, but now potentially knew as much as anyone.

  Present Day

  The two South African agents had spent the last day coming and going from the general hospital area. They'd checked out another nearby hospital, just to be sure, but that had almost nothing happening concerning patients who might be talking. That place had been for the palliative care of people who would soon be dead from their injuries.

  Once again they were outside the same hospital they'd been at that morning, and they had seen a few nurses come and go, one or two of whom they now recognised. They also had confirmation that this was the right hospital as their sources were picking up on various communications. A special British army security unit was reported to be on the way for the following day. It was too much of a coincidence that it had happened the day after they'd both started asking questions at the hospital and got nowhere with either of the two nurses they'd questioned. For the time being, they needed to keep a low profile. Like one of their native big cats in Africa, they had to watch from the tall grass, bide their time and, when they saw their chance, go in for the kill. The element of surprise was still with them, and maybe they'd been lucky so far. Now they would have to wait.

  Deep inside those same hospital walls, the small specialist army unit monitoring the progress of John in an otherwise undercover operation, were themselves working with a few extra personnel. A briefing had just finished; the four men from the SAS army unit deployed to help the team had been given the information as it currently stood.

  Nothing had yet been discovered on who the visitors were, the face matches not producing any results so far. It was widely decided that they were undesirables and therefore everyone was on high alert. The SAS team were ordered to find and locate these two South Africans. They were needed alive to try to find some answers to some vital questions: who were they working for, what were they doing, why were they here and what they wanted with John? It had been confirmed that no such men worked for the newspaper with whom John had spent his professional life. Nor were any of John's family from outside the UK. Since the only information that the South Africans had given was that John was a colleague or a relation, along with the name of their patient, it was a good guess that they were highly trained and worked with others. Security was reviewed, passwords changed. A new level of encryption added to all communications and that would keep any prying eyes out, at least for a time. Unknown to the unit, the SAS were also carrying out background checks on each member, in cooperation with MI5, to reveal any possible leak, though nothing would be found in that regard. It was getting dark when the four-man SAS team left the hospital the way they had come, in an unmarked white van from a rear entrance.

  It was an entrance the two South Africans had been watching for some time, aware of the standard issue van, void of any marking, which ironically made it stand out for them all the more. Having had their communications channel broken, a first sign that higher encryption was now used, they'd seen all they needed as the four men came quickly out of a fire door in an empty part of the hospital and got into the van. Even in those few seconds, you could see the army discipline in their stride, the fact they walked straight forward, in perfect pace, not looking around them, all getting in the van at the same time, the doors closing at the same millisecond. That was special forces if ever they saw them. At that moment, they both looked at each other and physically moved back further into the shadow of their vehicle as the white van came round and passed them, still some distance away. They were unnoticeable in their current spot but still felt very vulnerable.

  “We'd better call this in. Those guys were British special forces. The SAS don't mess around. We need to get out of here for the time being.”

  “I'm with you,” the other guy said, a little younger than the man now driving, but with more field experience. He was calling in with the news as they moved off into the night's traffic. Though there were still cars moving around the edges of the city, it was apparently nothing like it used to be. Delays were now rare. Those who were stil
l alive were doing their best to stay away. And at that moment, their radiation injections aside, the two South Africans wondered what in the world they were doing anywhere near this mess.

  Later that night, they would face a grilling from their superiors. How had they been so stupid as just to start throwing questions around at the hospital? They'd blown their real element of surprise and brought upon themselves their own search party. While they were looking for someone, they would now have to watch their own backs. It made their involvement risky, and for a time they were going to be redeployed. However, they were still high ranking and highly experienced. If things needed to get dirty, they were both the best that the Africans had to offer. It would not be possible to keep them on the sidelines for too long. But for now, they were to lie low. Another two teams were deployed to watch the hospital. Head office was trying once again to get through the new encryption, to learn what they could that way. They'd faced a setback, but if they were careful, it would still prove impossible for anyone to discover their involvement in all this. Time was still on their side––any more failure would not be tolerated.

  One Year Ago

  The rest of the talks had progressed well, without much more drama. The Chinese were back around the table, though they were quiet after everything that had happened. The Americans had an obvious objection to the British, but no one was sure what it was, or why, apart from the British themselves. The Russians were able to offer more help and some finances. That had brought them into things a little more. But they wanted greater involvement, and that would have to come at a later point. First, they needed to show the others what they could do. They would have some bargaining power when the others saw what they had to offer. With technology now also coming from Russian factories, that opportunity would soon present itself. The Europeans had been the ones who had gained the least. And just being there was like watching a love affair blossom before their very eyes, with the British coupled with the Americans in the way that they had hoped they would have been. They still felt cheated. They had also picked up a change in the relationship between the two so-called partners. The friction had been growing over the course of the last few days, both parties sitting further from the other, acting more aggressive towards each other, often cutting in on speech, questioning, challenging, even behaving quite rudely. They knew something was up. It seemed a crack in the special relationship might be presenting itself. Now they just needed to find the right kind of explosive to blow it all apart.

  The Chinese had not learned much more about how things stood. Their agents had not been able to turn anyone onto their side nor get to learn anything of any real value. The terror attack and the potential threat had been news to them at the time. That was unusual. Usually, they were the first to know and passed on what they knew, some of the time, to those at risk. But they'd been unaware of any threat in the UK and didn't see anything to be alarmed about, even after the photos were sent to the newspaper, until a critical agent, in deep cover, was killed outside his Kings Road hotel in Fulham, West London. After that they'd agreed to the withdrawal, not wanting to risk the lives of their other assets, some of whom were planted at the highest levels, deep undercover, and not in any of the photos: enough had been shown to make them heed the warning. They had learned that there was a team, much more significant than just three, working in the UK from an African coalition. They had not bought the UK story about the three dead being all that MI5 caught, though they had no way of being sure. Either the British were hiding something, or there were others still on the run. The Chinese were checking the latter possibility with teams covering the country and all airports. The former also worked on, with undercover agents inside the government and security services pressing to discover all they could.

  The talks concluded in the afternoon of the fourth day of discussions. Farewells were said, and they were courteous, if not warm. The Americans were last to leave, and one of them grabbed his British counterpart firmly by the arm and said:

  “This is not over if you think for a minute we've been silenced on the energy issue. We've gone to war for much less. You think about that one for a minute while you drink your milky tea and eat that disgusting fruit cake you all love.”

  With that, they left the building, travelling in three black four-by-fours that departed at speed and disappeared into the early evening traffic.

  15

  Present Day

  John woke up in a dark room. It felt cold, but he wasn't sure if that was more the darkness or the reality. There was no sound. On the far wall, there was now a window. He was moving towards that light, though his legs were not moving. He was in another vision. As he approached the window, there was an empty chair. From the shadows appeared Felix, his constant companion through the last week or so. The truth was, John had lost all sense of time. He had no idea of how long things had been taking. John was not too concerned about it, however. Here he was, injured and recovering in hospital, with as yet no memory of who he once had been or why he had ended up in the hospital in the first place. The longer it had been, the longer John feared that he didn't want to know who he was. He'd struggled with the fact that besides Lorna, his trusty nurse, no one had come to see him. Once, as Lorna left, he had glimpsed two army personnel outside the door standing guard. Keeping him under guard, no doubt. He was beginning to believe he was a monster. He was starting to fear the return of any memory, like the light being turned on to a scene of terror; images that you wish you never saw, but have no way of erasing. And as Felix approached, in this latest vision from the darkness, those thoughts were racing around in his head like motor cars on a Grand Prix circuit. The darkness seemed to be hiding a lot and also seemed loaded with fear, and it was starting to get too much for him. Little did he know but this was to be the last vision of its kind.

  Felix walked over slowly, deliberately taking the chair, moving it around a little. It seemed very exaggerated, very intentional and yet at the same time quite frustrating. Nothing was said for a long time. Felix looked up at John, straight into his eyes it seemed.

  “We've reached the end of things now,” he said, and the words hit John with almost physical force. His mind started going wild, and his heartbeat rose noticeably. While many things were still uncertain in John's mind, the end of this experience felt like a bad omen. John had been aware of this from just the first few encounters. Being told it was about to finish, meant that his part would be about to start. That thought scared him. He still had no idea about timing, or when this would all happen. Was this a vision with years to wait or had he been told this just moments before it was to happen? Either way, in that instant, he knew things were about to change dramatically.

  “I need you to listen to what I have to say, as I will not have another chance,” Felix continued. “My time has come, and this is the last occasion when we will be together.”

  “Please tell me when this is going to take place. Please give me some idea of how long I have.” John sounded desperate, his voice doing nothing to mask his inner feelings.

  “I can only give you so many answers. I can only show you what is to be and what you need to do. And I have shown you that. You've seen what will happen and you've seen that you can stop this. It remains in your hands to save everyone. Timing is not important, as it will all be clear to you. It is not something you have to trouble yourself with or to think about. It will be obvious to you soon enough. And then you will need to act.”

  John sat there silently, though his mind was far away. He was recalling much of what he'd seen, as if his brain was in video playback mode, retelling the story so far, the death and darkness, smoke and fire. That feeling from the first moment of a dark shadow, maybe death itself crouching, even lurking in the background. The body bags. The first time he'd understood that it was London when he'd seen the snake-like river because nothing else had given him any such clarity. Before that, it had just been some destroyed city that could have been anywhere. But it wasn't just somewhere.
It was his capital city, the place he'd always lived, as far as he knew. But then there was so much he didn't know. Felix was speaking again, and it took a moment for John to refocus. His mind was tired. It had put a lot of strain on him, incredible as it all was.

  “You need to know you can do this. You need to know that we believe in you. You have seen these visions for a reason. You are the last prophet, the only one who can do what you need to do. Without you, the world is doomed. Without you, everyone dies, including you. But you've been chosen because there is something special inside you.” Felix wasn't going to say what that was, and it was best to let John think that it was something more spiritual than the physical, chemical reality.

  “I am ready,” John said, the first words he had spoken for a while. There was some resolve starting to show in his voice now.

  “Good, and very true. You were born ready. It is what you were made to do. That is your destiny, your calling.”

  Felix, knowing he was about to die, had put everything into the final recording, saying as much as he could without saying too much. Now he was coming back to the heart of what the program was to achieve, what it was all designed to communicate. Felix was not going to hold back. He knew that this recording would outlive him, that it would be his legacy, his final words on the Earth. Whoever was watching was also, therefore, with him in his last moments. Felix was making this clip for his own reasons too. He was unaware of who would be listening, who would be seeing the vision, but aware enough, or hopeful enough, that it would be someone. It was Felix's way of dealing with his own mortality, his imminent passing. Felix knew what it was to look death in the face, to recognise its inevitability, to know there is nothing you can negotiate your own way out of, no way of avoiding it. So it was fitting that both men, though never physically meeting each other, were spending this final conversation facing the same outcome. They were about to die.