Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  He didn’t want to say that they didn’t have the ships in place that could launch the missiles from, these being three days behind the two aircraft carriers, meaning the window of opportunity would almost certainly have closed, especially if they wanted to include everyone in the attack, including the Chinese. That agenda would remain among those whom already knew.

  Besides, apart from Tod and maybe a few he worked with, there was no significant support for a ballistic missile only response. They knew their F18s could handle the situation better and then be on hand to clean up anything that might have managed to escape. The orders were clear––total annihilation.

  29

  West Africa

  As Gudu was travelling in just one car, a single vehicle that was moving along the mountain roads, he was all but invisible to the watching satellites, though the powers that controlled those machines knew he was heading into the fray. Driving for a solid five hours, he’d made his first stop. There were few buildings along his route, let alone adequate places to stop for better rest, some food and use of a bathroom. He would make do with whatever he could find, which hadn’t been much.

  The car he was using showed that he had done just over two hundred and fifty kilometres. It was barely a quarter of the distance he needed to go. It was already approaching evening, and driving through the night was not a great prospect, the pace considerably slowing if he did. There were no street lights, and the road was full of potholes which in daylight he'd been able to see, avoiding what would have been severe damage. But to travel at night, he would lose that advantage and risk ending his chances altogether. He’d seen very few other motorists out so far, despite the fact he’d often been on main roads. If he got stranded out there on his own at night, there would be no one to discover him. He would have to think hard about what to do next.

  At least he’d made it as far as a city where he was able to find somewhere to rest, refresh himself and eat. It was early evening, and the calls were starting to ring out for the day’s final prayers. The roads were well paved at the moment, and with only another hundred kilometres to the next major city, after a quick burger and a bottle of water, he decided to get back into the car and continue on his way. Night soon drew in, and he could see nothing but darkness and the occasional vehicle, travelling as he was between the two towns but in the opposite direction.

  Reaching the city well before eight that evening, he was starting to feel tired, the last night sleeping in the car and the days travelling now catching up with him. He needed at least a few hours sleep in a proper bed and managed to find a small hotel with vacancies just a few minutes after crossing the city’s border. He paid cash for the night, intending to be long gone before breakfast might have been served, and just left most things in the car, the secured parking compound offering a relative level of protection for his vehicle. Opening the door to his room, it was somewhat basic and sparsely furnished, but it was everything he needed. The bed seemed new, the sheets and linen clean. Just five minutes after entering the room, his shoes kept neatly by the door, and he was lying down. The only sound, aside from his quiet breathing, was that of the air conditioning unit, which was working away efficiently, keeping the temperature at a comfortable level.

  At three he woke with a start. He looked around, but there was no one there, it was just another dream. He checked his watch. He’d had approximately seven hours sleep, and for the most part felt good for it. The air conditioning must have switched itself off in the night, maybe reasonably recently, as the air had yet to warm up. Darkness still prevailed outside, it would be several hours until it was sufficiently light, but he would be well on his way by then.

  Gudu opened up a map and studied it carefully for ten minutes. There was no telling how good any of the particular roads were to help him plan the best route. A major highway did lie some fifty kilometres further south, but he didn’t think the detour would make any difference, any time gained in the trip lost by going the extra distance to get there. He would risk the detour, though in a few places he had some options. He noted these down carefully. His memory was good, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

  He then took thirty minutes to stretch, something he had done nearly every morning since he was a young boy. His flexibility was significant because of that, and the strength and control gained from these years of discipline had saved his life on more than one occasion.

  Taking a shower and grabbing some food from his supplies, it was nearly five, the night still holding on, though sunrise was now imminent. He grabbed what he’d had with him in the room, which was very little, and proceeded to return to the parking compound, showing the security guard his room confirmation, that he’d paid already and this wasn’t a guest trying to pull a fast one. His keys got returned to him, and the guard went back to watching his basketball game that was being shown on the little television in the corner.

  Back out on the roads of northern Nigeria, there was a little light traffic but nothing to slow him down at all. Most trades started well after morning prayers, which were still some time away. He planned to be well out of the city by then, heading north-easterly once again, hoping these next twelve hours of daylight would take him most, if not entirely all, of the way. Arriving at the final location in darkness, wasn’t a bad idea, and would give him time to look around. He was aware that Elizabeth would be there by now, or soon arriving. That thought was all that was needed to focus his mind once more, determined to close the distance as much as possible between him and her, that this day would be the final day they’d be apart. Something in him knew he couldn’t carry on living this life of separation, where he’d always be wondering where she was. Was she safe, did he have to come for her? And she was far from secure at that very moment, her predicament no doubt far worse given the fact it was the Jihadists, and not the British or even Americans, who had her.

  By midday, he’d covered over four hundred kilometres already, his pace a decent one so far as the roads were going the way he needed. That was about to change as he was beginning to need to take much smaller roads that were often not even on his large scale map.

  The land was becoming more barren. He ran the risk of falling into the hands of scattered militants, which he wanted to avoid at all costs. It’d take just one of them to call it in before he managed to kill them all, and they’d know he was coming. While highly trained, he also preferred each situation to be on his terms. He’ would let them know when his presence was to be noticed, and that was usually always after he’d already carried out what he was there to do.

  At that same time, as he was still moving east but with some distance to go, Elizabeth had arrived at the Boko Haram camp, having been flown the night before and then driven the two hundred kilometres it took to get to the remote location.

  Northern Nigeria

  At base camp, the Commander was watching the footage recorded the previous afternoon from the al-Qaeda tent. It showed Elizabeth, who was naked and being held down by two men, a line of others waiting for their turn on her. The ordeal had lasted for nearly an hour, and she’d been taken from the tent barely able to walk, before being locked up in a secure unit until the next group arrived on site.

  The video got uploaded to their central computer. It would make explosive viewing at some later point, no doubt causing great outrage for the British once they were sent a copy.

  Jianguo was not in the cells when his female cellmate was brought in, a sheet tied around her to give her an element of modesty. He was, once more, being tortured. He’d started to lose his mind, the days rolling into weeks and months, all sense of time lost. He assumed he’d been abandoned to his fate, the contact he’d had with China, which was in reality just days before, seeming like months now. They apparently weren’t coming for him. But he wouldn’t give them what they were asking for, and he couldn’t. He didn’t have the information nor was there any way of him getting it. The best he could hope for now was to annoy one of the guards enough for them
to go too hard on him, and end up killing him. Death seemed his only escape.

  During the afternoon, the group arrived from the Taliban, being greeted warmly by those standing around, probably seen as the noblest of all those present, though still not to be messed with.

  “Please, gentlemen, make yourselves at home. You may set up camp wherever you please. We’ll provide some entertainment for you when you have done so.”

  “What type of entertainment? When do we get to see this information you have made us come all this way for?”

  “We’ll get to that tomorrow when everyone has arrived, settled in and had a chance to sleep off their aches. For now, enjoy the rest of the day. We have a British spy, a Western woman, captive. You can take any frustrations out on her, but you aren’t to physically harm her more than is needed. We have other plans for her after.”

  There was a look of understanding on the men before him, a situation they’d known many times before. Rape was a standard weapon of war where they were from. Women caught up in the fight were merely fair-game, despite the vast majority being entirely innocent and sought out for that very reason.

  Elizabeth had been asleep for a couple of hours when her door was opened, though she didn’t wake until she was lifted to her feet, her legs not wanting to hold her weight initially until she came to her senses.

  “Where are you taking me?” she said, though got no reply. Led towards another group of tents, which hadn’t been there earlier, dread filled her once more, utterly aware of what was about to happen to her, again. She was pushed into the tent, her sheet removed, and was once more dragged to the ground, two men holding her arms, as their leader was already lowering his trousers. After him, each of the seven men present would have their go. She shut her eyes and tried to go to another place, her body already hurting immensely. Determined not to let them break her mentally, even as that was happening physically.

  Gulf of Guinea, West Africa

  Three hundred kilometres off the south coast of Nigeria, the small but mighty fleet of the US Navy, which included the two aircraft carriers, was making significant progress. They’d get within fifty kilometres off the shore, out of sight from anyone that might be watching from the coastline but close enough for the jets to make land within minutes––though the target area was an hour’s flying further north. They were expected to be in place that night, dropping anchor and confirming their arrival to their commanders in Washington. Their operation was being run directly from the White House, the Joint Chiefs assembled and ready to go. The airstrikes were due to take place in the morning, at first light, though they could only happen after they’d managed to confirm with the Nigerian government what they intended to do. They didn’t expect, nor would they tolerate, any objections from the host government. Nigeria was as much a slave to it all, as was the West.

  Satellite imagery had continued to monitor a build up at the camp, the two convoys spotted and followed all the way to the location. Another two had since been identified. That meant that the total number of expected participants had either arrived already or were about to that evening. A dawn strike would take them all out before anything got sorted, or so was the plan. There was no knowing what the Chinese were up to. They had a man held captive for sure, but that situation had been like that for a month so far already, and there had been no movement on their part up to now, besides the trade of information which looked to have produced little, if any, results. Now, if as believed, Elizabeth was being held there too, it more than doubled the interest, and following the phone call from their primary enforcer, they knew Gudu was now heading towards the target. They’d tried to pick him out with the satellites, but it was impossible. Without the strength of a convoy, it was just one vehicle out of many possible options. If he was to switch on his phone again, they might be able to get a lock on the signal long enough to confirm his location, but he was naturally cautious with how he used the phone, it would seem. Either that, or he’d ditched it already and had another option with him.

  Based on the time of the call, when they’d intercepted his call back to Beijing, they placed him a day’s travel from the coordinates he was then given. That would mean, in theory, he too would be arriving that evening or during the night. What he’d do once there, was anyone’s guess. There was some interest in how he’d get on with such overwhelming numbers against him. His most significant skill––his ability to go unnoticed––making himself invisible, was undoubtedly his only hope. Once they were onto him, there would be no escape. Though the Americans, and to some degree, the British, had thought that not so long ago, only to be left red-faced and empty-handed. Either way, he was of secondary importance ultimately. A nice thought if they got him, but not worth delaying the operation for. A dawn strike, or as soon after as was possible, would eradicate some of the most wanted and notorious men on the planet. It would also destroy the information they had yet to pass on, and clean up the mess that had become Elizabeth Mayfield; one-time British spy turned Chinese double agent and a top rate one at that.

  30

  Northern Nigeria

  At three, Elizabeth was carried back into her cell. The ordeal had lasted nearly two hours. She had blood pouring down her thighs so that once she was in the cell block, she’d been showered down with cold water that only added to her pain, if not cleaning her up a little.

  Jianguo was in the cell this time when she was brought in wearing what looked like a white sheet. He didn’t recognise her at first, assuming she was yet another ploy to get information from him, until he saw the blood and the way she was carried in. She was a victim like he was.

  They both sat there in silence for some time. It was Elizabeth who spoke first, very softly, in fluent Mandarin, which startled Jianguo for a moment, so long in a world where he understood nothing.

  “How are you?”

  “How do you know my language?” he said, not sure if it was indeed another trick they were playing on him.

  “It’s me, Elizabeth Mayfield. Tiger Cub.”

  He took in that last phrase, looking at her. They’d never formally met, as far as he was aware, but he knew all about her.

  “My God!” he said, realisation flooding in. “What are you doing here?”

  “They caught me, the British I mean. I was freed.”

  “He came for you?”

  “Of course. But then I was caught again by the Americans, I think. I’d not long landed in Morocco, hadn’t yet started hiding. It was silly really. I should have kept moving. Anyway, they handed me over to some local group about a week ago; I lose track. And they were going to hand me over to these guys, I think. I was taken before the trade was made.”

  “Why would the Americans give you up?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “Does he know you are here?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She glanced at his legs, his body, now only taking in his physical condition.

  “How are you bearing up?”

  “They’ve beaten me for more days than I can count. I have no idea how long I’ve been here. They know I’m here, though.”

  “Who do? Command?”

  “Yes, I had access to a computer some time ago. I had to buy some time so gave them some information we were holding.”

  “I know all about that. Go on…”

  “I used the code. They should have had these coordinates for days now, weeks maybe. Why haven’t they come?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t heard anything, though I’ve been on the run for a while now, too.”

  “Have they hurt you?” It seemed silly asking such an obvious question, blood still showing around her ankles. She lowered her head, not knowing how to answer his question.

  “It’s always the same in war. Men will do anything they want,” she said, though there were no tears there. No emotion whatsoever––it was as if she had switched that part of her soul off during the first ordeal.

  “It’ll get better,” he said.
/>   “Will it?” she said, looking up at him, his own body one massive bruise.

  “They know where we are. Maybe he will find us after all?”

  “I’m not sure I can go through anymore. I can’t just let them continue to do this to me. You must help me.”

  “Help you? How? I can’t even walk!”

  “End my life. If I’m left with them, this nightmare will just continue. All I’ll have is endless rape and abuse. It’s a violation of everything I am…everything I once was. Don’t let them take that from me, don’t give them the opportunity. You must help me die!”

  “Elizabeth, I couldn’t do that!”

  “You must!”

  At that moment there was a rattling of keys in the door. Two men appeared, troubled to have heard them speaking fluently to each other, no idea what was being said. The lead man put a finger to his lips.

  “No speak!” he ordered.

  A baton was in his hand, which he used to point at Elizabeth.

  “Up. We have more work for you.” She looked into Jianguo’s eyes as they lifted her from the bench. He wanted to be able to stand up, to stop them from taking her, but he couldn’t. She went away silently like a lamb led to the slaughter, the door being locked again behind them.

  This time, it was fighters from the base itself awaiting their turn, at least twenty men, with a small room on the side of the compound set up for them, a table with arm restraints in place, which she was lowered onto, her arms locked into place at the wrists. She was left alone in the room for a moment, her thoughts already dark, before the first man entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Gulf of Guinea, West Africa

  As evening drew in, the Captain of the first lead aircraft carrier of the US Navy was slowing as it approached its final destination, just over fifty kilometres off the coast of Nigeria. Behind him were three other ships, a fellow aircraft carrier and two smaller destroyers that were there purely for protection of the more significant, slower vessels. Over three thousand crew made up the mini fleet, with ninety-two attack ready F18s available between the two ships, their pilots being briefed as the fleet put down anchor. Two mid-air refuelling planes would accompany them, but they would take off the following morning and join them en route, and over the skies of Nigeria.