‘Shit!’
Matt checked the handheld GPS receiver to see if Khan was on the move with the sports bag, but there was no signal.
Matt put his shoes back on and grabbed his windbreaker. He looked at the safe and briefly considered taking the pistol with him, then decided against it. He wasn’t anticipating any contact with his target; this was strictly recon. But without the benefit of tracking and listening devices Matt would have to do this old school.
...
Matt caught up with Faisal Khan a few hundred metres down the street from the Hotel New House. The Afghan moved with ease through the evening crowd. He had a black plastic bag over his right shoulder and he carried something else in his left hand.
Khan cut through the grounds of an old mosque and stopped for a moment. Watching him, Matt realised that in his left hand he was holding a map. Khan looked at it and adjusted his course. He walked off again down another side street and then stopped when he came to a laneway with a sign indicating that its name was Hoca Rüstem Mektebi. Here Khan stopped for a moment and looked around.
Matt put his head down and kept walking; he had already positioned himself amid a group of men who were walking alongside him and so remained undetected. Khan’s eyes passed straight over them and back down the street. Seemingly confident that he was unobserved, he entered the laneway. Matt stepped out from the group of men and approached the lane cautiously, just in time to see Khan throw the black plastic bag over the fence of a compound that was opposite a pink hotel.
What on earth are you up to, Faisal? Matt wondered. Was that cash? Surely it was being done electronically? Had he seen Khan just set up a dead letter box? It occurred to him that he might have missed something; he hadn’t heard both sides of the conversation, after all. Perhaps they are doing it the old-fashioned way, he reasoned. This was the exchange location for the weapon, of that Matt was certain. Faisal would tell them that the cash was on the other side of the wall; but that was the part that didn’t make sense.
Khan kept walking straight down the lane and out the other side; Matt thought it better to not follow. Pulling out his phone he leaned against the wall of a small coffee and sweets shop of the type that were so ubiquitous on the corners of Istanbul streets. He brought up Google Maps, then zoomed in on his own location.
Lightning crashed across the sky, making Matt jump slightly at the noise. The rumble from the thunder went on for almost half a minute and in the distance the noise of more thunder echoed, reverberating across the water that separated European Turkey from Asian Turkey and over the minarets that were now sounding the night-time call to prayer. Matt shivered in response to the noise and the cold.
Satisfied that he knew where to go, he started back up the small street that he had just walked down and took a left, and then another left; he would approach the lane from the other end, he decided. There were two small walls at one end of a courtyard that separated a private residence from one of the hotels in the street. If Matt could get into location inside the first courtyard, he would be able to see the handover occur. He tried the small wooden gate and found it unlocked. A gap in the plaster rendering gave him a great view down the road.
Matt slowly made his way to the hotel. Things were happening faster than he’d anticipated. TC and JJ wouldn’t be arriving till later tomorrow and the possibility of them getting to the hotel before he needed them in position was remote. It seemed he was going to have to monitor Khan by himself for the rest of the day and into the evening up until the handover.
17
SAMANDIRA ARMY AIR BASE, TURKEY
Rachel moved into the dimly lit hanger where Glyn’s men had set up their vehicles and equipment. She juggled a roll of topographical and city view maps as well as various other intelligence overlays. The hangar, tucked down the very back of the Istanbul Samandira Army Air Base, was discreet enough to be hidden from prying eyes while close enough for the snatch team to get into Istanbul and recover the ‘package’. The back gate was metres away and now manned by the Turkish military on a strict need-to-know basis when it came to arrivals and departures.
Earlier in the afternoon the SBS guys had changed into flight suits for the dirty job of breaking down the pallets and organising, cleaning and double-checking all the weapons and explosives that they might need. The Turkish military had been very helpful in the offloading of vehicles and pallets from the C-17, and a liaison officer, Major Evren Faruk, was standing with Glyn and Bluey next to the lead car. The Turkish major would be attached to the mission for the duration of the operation on the ground in Istanbul, ensuring that the team would have no problems with the overzealous Turkish police.
Glyn had already spotted her walking out of the small side office where they had set up the MI6 signals support team. He smiled at her as he saw her awkwardly juggling the paperwork.
‘We have a drop-off location, Glyn,’ she said. ‘Milko has been in contact with an Afghan by the name of Faisal Khan – or, rather, Khan called him. They are set to meet tomorrow evening in a laneway outside some hotel.’ She placed the maps on the bonnet of the black armoured cruiser and handed the location coordinates to Glyn. ‘Here’s a copy of the conversation as well.’ She passed over a page of typed notes.
Glyn looked them over. His eyes narrowed when he read about the money transfer arrangements. He turned his attention back to Rachel.
‘Rachel, you’ve met Major Faruk Evren, haven’t you?’
‘I have. Hello, Major.’ Rachel smiled.
‘Hello, Rachel. Please, anything you need, just let me know. I was saying earlier to Glyn that I can offer troops and aircraft, tanks – whatever we need to achieve this task.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind, but I’m sure we can handle this.’
‘Of course, of course, but as you are a guest in our country, my government is keen to make sure that you have all the necessary resources at hand. As you know, we are busy ourselves with our own internal issues and we don’t want this to escalate into a major international incident.’
‘I understand,’ said Rachel. ‘I know that government to government an agreement has been reached to let us deal with this in the first instance. Of course, if I need anything I will be sure to ask.’
‘I have a question, Rachel,’ interrupted Glyn.
‘Yes, what is it?’
Glyn had turned his attention back to the telephone transcripts. ‘Do we need to wait until the money transfer has taken place before the snatch or is that immaterial?’ he asked.
‘That’s a good question; I think that we should wait. We can monitor it from the van – no doubt it will be an SMS, so that’s hardly a challenge. If there’s any delay, though, my priority is securing the weapon.’
‘Okay, got it – we’ll update our plan and get ready for the snatch.’ He smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder, causing her to tense up. ‘Why don’t you go and get your head down for a bit? I’m going to tell my guys to get some rest now ahead of orders at six am.’
‘Yes, that’s a good idea.’ Rachel was far from tired at this point, but she knew that the fatigue from the last few days’ planning would slowly start to register and she wanted to be refreshed and alert for the next day. Rachel stepped back, away from Glyn’s touch, and headed back to the office.
The three men watched her go.
‘You should back of a bit, sir,’ said Bluey. ‘She has an important job to do, you know.’
‘She’ll be fine – something tells me she can handle herself,’ Glyn replied with a wink. He opened the door of the armoured Land Cruiser and took an iPad from the front seat. He consulted the note Rachel had given him, then entered the coordinates into the military mapping tool, Falcon View, and zoomed in on the screen.
‘I’ve seen you toying around with young ladies before,’ Bluey persisted. ‘Remember that waitress in Poole? You practically drove her insane in a matter of weeks.’
Glyn looked sideways at the warrant officer. ‘Bluey, go tell the lads
to get their heads down, then meet me in that room over there.’ He indicated a room at the far end of the hangar, which, judging by the long tables and chairs had probably once been a briefing room for the maintenance crews. ‘We’ll use it as our operations room and I’ll give orders there in the morning. Let’s get this plan tightened up.’
‘Will do, boss. Do you need anyone else or just me?’ Bluey knew he had overstepped the mark; he also knew that Glyn would let it roll.
‘Just you and Major Faruk here. Ten minutes, okay?’
Both men nodded.
Glyn headed towards the room and ten minutes later, on the dot, he looked up from the maps he had spread over the long tables to see Bluey and the Turkish officer enter.
‘Here, I made you a wet.’ Bluey handed Glyn a cup of milky tea.
‘Thanks. Take a look at this, Bluey.’ Glyn had placed a clear piece of plastic over the city map and tapped it down. Using a blue marker, he had circled three different areas; he had also circled a fourth area in red.
‘This circle here is the Nowy Efendi Hotel.’ Glyn pointed to the red circle with the point of a pocketknife. ‘From the Falcon View flyover of this alley, the Hoca Rüstem Mektebi laneway seems small indeed – in fact, it’s not even wide enough for more than one vehicle to pass, a car could park up on this curb, but it would be tight to get past in another vehicle, and it’s only about two hundred metres long.’ Glyn moved the tip of the knife to a large car park circled in blue. ‘This is the Katli Otopark, down the hill around seventy metres from the entrance to the alley. It’s a multilevel car park. It will make a great staging area prior to us moving in on foot. At nine pm there should only be a few people around, meaning we can move up this street and then into the alley fairly fast. The vehicles can follow after a one-minute gap. We should have it all wrapped up by then.’
‘You don’t want to hit each side simultaneously?’ Bluey pointed to the other end of the alley.
‘No, it’s just too tight and the possibility of a blue on blue is far too great. If we do it this way, then we can have a team down either side and be on top of them before they can react. Judging by the street lighting on this Google Earth imagery, we won’t even need NVGs. We can roll in there with discreet weapons and two snipers, one either side of the alley, for overhead cover.’
‘Got it. What time do you want to roll then?’
‘I think we need to get into the car park at around six pm. We need to hire some cars first thing tomorrow. We can’t arrive in our armoured cruisers or the whole world will know what’s going on. Let’s take care of that after orders.’
‘Sure, I’ll get Ganley and Donoghue on it.’ Bluey wrote down a reminder in his notebook. ‘Do you think these Russians are going to bring any firepower? Anything we haven’t thought of?’
‘What’s more powerful than a nuclear weapon?’ Glyn looked up from the maps and smiled at his 2IC. ‘Nothing we can’t handle, mate,’ he said. He sipped on the tea and tapped his iPad with his pen. ‘I’m going to get these orders done then get my own head down.’
18
SAMANDIRA ARMY AIR BASE
‘That’s it then. The lads are loaded up and we’re ready to move.’ Glyn checked his own Heckler & Koch MP5K model machine pistol and adjusted the three-point sling. He closed the Aimpoint covers and turned off the switch of the red dot sight. The weapon bounced back by his side and he closed his bomber jacket over the top of it.
Bluey adjusted his own kit. ‘The guys will be glad to get on with it, to be honest, all day in here rehearsing and listening to confirmatory orders starts to get a bit old hat after a while. No offence, ma’am, but even your briefs are a bit dry when you’ve had to sit through them every hour on the hour since six am. Anyway, how do I look?’ Bluey straightened his shirt over his discreet body armour and holstered his pistol.
Rachel nodded her approval. It was four pm and they were running according to schedule. She looked across at the three hire cars, all different makes and models, all loaded with SBS operators – Britain’s finest. A car containing an advance party had already left the hangar an hour ago. Their job was to scope out the car park and then make their way to the restaurant on the corner. From there they could provide commentary and alert Glyn to the Russian’s arrival.
‘Any news from the advance guys yet, Glyn?’ asked Rachel.
‘Oisín reported in five minutes ago.’ Glyn looked at his watch then adjusted the microphone in his ear, making sure the cable from the mic to the radio receiver on his belt was hidden. ‘It’s quiet and the car park is near on empty. They’ve parked up on the third level on the northern side. There’s a set of stairs we can use to make our way to the ground floor and out into the street. I suggest you keep the Transit van up there; it’s out of the way and because of the open sides of the car park you’ll still be able to provide a listening over-watch.’
‘Got it.’ Rachel kneeled on the concrete floor of the hangar and zipped up her small backpack. Standing up, she slung it over her right shoulder. ‘I’m all set too.’
‘Once we park up, the lads will move to the three different start points. When you’re ready, let me know and I’ll give the word to move in. I think it will take about thirty seconds for us to get to the start of the lane and then make our move down it. No more than thirty seconds, that’s for sure.’
‘Okay. As we discussed before, it sounds like there’s going to be a money transfer of some sort. Most probably it will be electronic. Once we’ve detected it, I’ll let you know.’ Rachel hesitated. ‘Actually, if I think it’s going to wrap up without evidence of a money transfer, I’ll still give the word. Either way, our main aim is to retrieve that weapon.’
‘Understood. We’ve tested the body cams and they’re all linked back to the monitor in the van, so you’ll be able to see and record everything as it happens.’ Glyn rotated the small bezel on the camera into the ‘on’ position and ensured it was fastened tight to his jacket.
‘Shall we set off then?’ Rachel turned towards the white Ford Transit; Glyn grabbed her hand before she could step away. Startled, she turned. He was gazing down at her, a sombre look on his face. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
‘I want to ask you something.’
Rachel frowned. ‘What is it? Have we forgotten something?’
Glyn gave a sheepish grin. ‘No, nothing like that. I thought I’d ask you out for a drink. Just in case this all goes pear-shaped, then at least I’ve asked, you know? Shown my intent.’
‘Right, I see,’ Rachel said crisply. She was annoyed that he had chosen such an important moment to turn personal. She was attracted to him, that was certain, but this was hardly the time or place to act on any attraction. Besides, there was something inside her warning her off him – not to mention the ever-present thought of Matt in the back of her mind.
‘So, what do you say?’ Glyn persisted. ‘After all this is over, will you have a drink with me?’
‘No. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea at all, Glyn.’ Rachel pulled her hand away from his. ‘Let’s keep this professional, shall we? We need to go now; we have a job to do.’
Glyn laughed. ‘Okay, Rachel – but you’ll change your mind.’ He opened the door of the lead car and turned to shout, ‘Let’s go, lads, three minutes apart. Move now!’ He banged the roof of his own car and got in.
‘She knocked you back, hey, sir?’ said Johnny Brookes, the Alpha Team driver, as Glyn climbed into the seat next to him.
‘Ha, you know me, Johnny – I love a challenge. C’mon, let’s go meet some Russians.’ Glyn smiled.
19
ISTANBUL
Faisal checked his watch; it was five minutes to nine. He scanned the restaurants and cafes along the main street. Everything seemed normal for this time of the evening and he couldn’t see any sign of the Turkish military. Most of the cafes were full of tourists either smoking shisha or eating their main meal for the day. The brightness of the streetlights and noise and laughter emanati
ng from the cafes and restaurants on the tourist strip disorientated Faisal slightly; even the busiest of the city streets of Kabul lacked the energy of Istanbul.
As he had done the night before, he turned down the side street nearest to his hotel, and then turned down a second street that took him into the more traditional area of the city. Nearing the start of the narrow laneway, he squinted, his eyes slow to adjust to the sudden darkness. One lamppost at either end of the lane splashed only a little light into the street. The faint glow from the windows of the boutique hotels pierced the many shadows, but not enough for Faisal to get a good look at his surroundings. Not far along was a small delivery van with a few men standing next to it. Faisal couldn’t quite make them out; there were maybe three or four men, he decided. He approached slowly. One of the men turned and, seeing the Afghan, started towards him. As he came closer, Faisal could see that everything about him was short, from his stature to his arms to his blond hair.
‘Faisal, hello, my friend, how are you?’ The blond man’s accent was unmistakably Russian. He extended his hand and Faisal shook it.
‘Milko?’ he asked.
‘No, no, not me.’ He moved in and started to pat down the tall Afghan, feeling his waist for a weapon and his body for a bomb. ‘It is not possible to be too careful, don’t you agree?’
Murmuring his assent, Faisal stood tall and still as the Russian completed the frisk. It was amateurish at best and Faisal grew in confidence. This guy wasn’t military at all; he was more like a hired thug.
‘What is this?’ the Russian asked, pulling Faisal’s phone from his trouser pocket.
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