by Jack Freeman
Ali Saeed came into view and began undoing the cuffs, saying in an East End voice,
“Just as well I was here, Blue, matey, or you would be in Her Majesty’s care for the next 50 years or strung up or maybe extradited and fried back home.”
Max snapped back to full alertness and standing up saw the policemen’s bodies on the pavement. Large calibre hollow point bullets had done their work. He also saw civilians fleeing as Ali waved the gun around but could still hear sirens and alarms from the direction of Grosvenor Square.
“Come on Max, run! Down next alley on left and into the van. The back door is unlocked.”
Reaching the van in minutes, Max opened the back door and flung himself inside, slamming the door shut. Ali gunned the engine and by an extremely roundabout route they reached Leicester Square by midnight.
All was quiet in Leicester Square. The events in Grosvenor Square which was only 2 miles away had not had any impact in Soho as yet. No extra police patrols were on the streets and no checkpoints had been set up. They soon reached the door to the RPI flat in Greek Street without any further incident.
Upstairs, he was greeted warmly by Nasir and Azar and three other heavy set men he had not seen before and who had the look of wrestlers or maybe weightlifters. Ali slipped away down stairs to watch the door.
“I hear you did a good job tonight,” smiled Nasir, “with just a few complications. You are covered in blood which I gather is not yours. It is just as well we sent Ali to watch over you. How do I know what happened already, you wonder? Well, don’t the English have a saying “my spies are everywhere”? that’s how!...Also it is already on the radio news, many casualties at the Embassy they say, just what we wanted. Well done. The policemen, well that wasn’t part of the plan but needs must. We couldn’t have you taken and Ali had to use his initiative to stop that. This could cause complications down the line, but we’ll worry about that some other time. By the way, our friends here, are, or rather were, weightlifters with the Iranian state circus. They’ve come over to us and provide excellent security services, as you might imagine.”
“Yeah! I did wonder about your friends. I’m glad they are on our side. Anyway, yes, the main action went very smoothly. It was a nice tool you provided, if a little vintage. Still it was good to get in some live firing. It’s been a while,” replied Max, “I wasn’t too keen on the returned fire from the Embassy and, yeah, it was bad luck with the cops. Thanks to Ali, that was taken care of. Now, what’s next?”
“Next, Comrades Blue, Max can clean up. We will destroy the blood stained clothes and replace them with fresh ones. Then we are all going on a little trip to meet the Inner Circle. They want to meet you, give their congratulations on tonight’s action and brief you on the next job. We’ll bring up a new clean van for the journey. The cops may be looking for the one Ali used tonight. Max, go clean up in the bathroom. There are some fresh clothes in there you can use. We took the liberty of visiting your flat when you were out to collect items you will need, as we have plans for you to be away from home for a few days.”
“I hope our shop assistant didn’t spot you helping yourself to my stuff. I guess you might have had to dispose of him if he had seen anything. We would understand. That’s how it is in war,” said Max.
“Don’t worry. He didn’t see a thing. One of our guys distracted him with a query about Conrad’s Secret Agent, while two others snuck up to your flat. It was all over in minutes. By the way, your assistant didn’t seem to have heard of Conrad’s book. “
“He is dozy and his young brain is already addled with booze, grass, acid and God knows what. But the customers like him,” replied Max with a grin as he went towards the bathroom.
After fifteen minutes, Max emerged from the bathroom, wearing the replacement clothes, after a cold shower had removed the blood from his hair and skin, and the sound of one of the Cell’s white vans, drawing up in the street below, came through the window.
“Ahh..our transport is here. I know you will understand that, for this trip, we always insist on blindfolds for new guests,” added Nasir.
“So, we’re not 100% accepted yet?” asked Azar.
“No, not quite, maybe 95 %, but anyway if you don’t have to know the location of the Inner Circle’s safe house, its best for you and the cause, that you don’t know it. The imperialists can break the staunchest comrade. We have discovered this more than once,” explained Nasir.
So, with blindfolds on tightly, in the back of the RPI’s back-up white van, with the weightlifters, Max and Azar were taken to meet the Inner Circle. Max guessed from the pattern of left and right turns and then the long straight stretch that they were heading West, possibly down the A40 and from the loudness and frequency of aeroplane noises, he strongly suspected that they were stopping not far from Heathrow Airport.
Azar wondered where their activities were leading. Being blindfold in the back of a van would, she hoped, lead to further acceptance by the RPI rather than to sudden execution. Trouble was, you could never be sure with this ruthless bunch. Apparently loyal members were liquidated all the time on the say so of anonymous informers, who fed the leaders’ paranoia. Max had been brave and had crossed quite a few lines in attacking the Embassy and being implicated in the murder of two police officers. That he had done this for her and her brother made her feel very warm to Max and she pressed up to him clutching his hand as the van turned off the road. Max reciprocated and stroked her hand reassuringly.
At the Embassy, Jack telexed DC to confirm that the mock attack had been carried out successfully and that operation DOUBLEPAYBACK was truly underway. It looked to Jack that Max was now accepted by the RPI and results could be expected soon.
Chapter 3. Another job
Eventually, Max felt the van bumping down what he guessed must have been a rough track and then coming to a sudden halt. Ali opened the van’s back door and the weightlifters led Max and Azar, still blindfolded, through pouring rain into the RPI Inner Circle’s safe house. When the blindfolds were taken off, they saw that they were in a farmhouse kitchen complete with Aga stove, oak beams, horse brasses on the walls and a large oak table around which three men were already seated. Nasir was one of the three. The man to Nasir’s right was of stocky build, in his late fifties, with closely cropped silver hair and a small goatee beard; the man on Nasir’s left was tall, completely bald and with large black framed glasses. Both were wearing dark suits, with black buttoned up shirts, and no ties.
“Comrades Blue,” said Nasir, “Meet my colleagues on our Inner Circle. They have taken noms-de-guerre and are known as Comrade Alpha, on my right, our leader, and Comrade X, our deputy leader. You already know my name and I am, you might say, First Secretary as well as local leader of our London operation.”
“We are pleased to meet you all and hope to be of further service to the cause,” replied Max, making eye contact with each man in turn, while Azar nodded enthusiastically and one of the burly men passed round generously filled crystal glasses of Famous Grouse whisky served neat.
Comrade Alpha began speaking, “First, let me congratulate Max on tonight’s successful action. We gather a satisfactory number of casualties, dead and wounded resulted. It will warn the imperialists to keep out of our business. Ali also deserves special commendation for his bold action in rescuing Max from the local police. From what we can gather the police are clueless about who exactly might be behind this mindless atrocity, as they see it. Let’s hope they stay confused. Fortunately, there is no Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot to help them.
Second, Azar, please accept our commiserations regarding the death of your brother Mohsan, on active service, in a difficult operation in a far place. We will send another team to finish the job. Another big message will be sent to the imperialists soon.
I am glad to say that we have plans for you both to be involved in actions that will amply avenge Mohsan.”
“I look forward to vengeance, Comrade Alpha, and am thrilled to hear it is p
lanned. My brother was so brave! Even as a little boy he would be the one to take on the school bullies…”
Azar was interrupted by Comrade X.
“Indeed, he was an excellent comrade and we are all proud of him, but if you don’t mind, we have urgent business now to discuss with Comrade Max, which concerns him alone. Azar, one of our men will show you to your room. Maybe you were told already, but these men were weightlifters from the State Circus. I can add that they still keep in practice, too!”
Hmm, thought Max, I wonder if these guys were among the weightlifters who led the anti-Mossadegh riots, for the generous fees provided by Company man Kermit Roosevelt, back in the glory days of ’53, when the anti-Shah regime was overthrown in a classic covert action. The pictures of the riots looked bizarre, as the crowd followed a group of very large men, some of them dressed in loin cloths and carrying barbells as weapons. Max seemed to remember that the weightlifters had been led by a character with the great name of “Shaban the Brainless”. They were muscle for hire and would act as a “black” mob who wreaked havoc, while pretending to be pro-Mossadegh, and equally would act as a “white” mob on behalf of the Shah to restore order, with the help of the cops. Probably they were still for hire now. Maybe they could be turned back again to the other side by a little incentive? Maybe we’ll try that later.
Azar did not argue about being excluded from the next stage of the RPI’s operation planning. You didn’t argue with the Inner Circle if you wanted to last long in the RPI. Alone in the room she and Max had been assigned, she did some isotonic exercises and checked the room for listening devices and hidden cameras. All seemed clear but the RPI were a very suspicious group and she doubted that they trusted her or Max yet. She settled back on the bed to await Max.
After Azar had left the room and had been taken upstairs, out of earshot and implicitly under guard, Nasir began to outline a further test for Max.
“Ok, Max. We can see that you do seem to have good and understandable motives to help the cause and you did really well tonight. If the US authorities ever get their hands on you, I guess it’ll be the gas chamber or electric chair for you. Treason would be the charge, I would guess, for shooting up an Embassy which is, after all, US sovereign territory, not to mention killing, murdering they would say, US diplomats, their lackeys and guards. Plus, now you are involved, as an accessory, in the murder of two British bobbies. The local authorities take a very dim view of cop killing and still have the death penalty. Remember, a kid was hung here a few years ago for being involved in a cop killing during a robbery even although he didn’t pull the trigger. The actual killer was too young to hang, but the accomplice wasn’t. There have been plenty more hangings since then. I suppose your case might be diplomatically embarrassing as Brits like to keep in with Uncle Sam, so maybe they’d just skip the trial stage and make you have an accident in custody. They do that too.
So, just for future reference, it will be best for you to remember that we’ve got the Tommy gun with your prints all over it. I’m sure you wouldn’t, but if ever you were to re-defect back to the other side, this evidence might surface. I’m sure you understand.
Now, to the next business. We’ve got a little problem with a rival group you have no doubt heard of, the Iranian Liberation Front or ILF. We recently came into a considerable sum in US dollars. How this happened need not concern you. The ILF got wind of this and tried to take the money for themselves. There was a major shoot out at one of our places in a remote part of the Pyrenees. French officialdom is unaware of this incident but I can say that it was a bloody business but in the end we fended them off with quite a few casualties. Obviously, we can’t allow this to go by and just pretend it didn’t happen. The leader of their political wing has persuaded some soft headed Dutch politicians to meet him in Amsterdam to hear his feeble arguments for sanctions against the Shah’s regime. His case is to do with human rights and all that bourgeois claptrap. You are to get rid of this guy for us. It will be a great service for the People’s cause and after that, we will definitely feel you really are one of us.”
“Ok, I’m here to do whatever the cause calls for. I’ve long thought myself that the ILF are misleading the people and are ready to sell out to the imperialists for a taste of power. Just fill me in on the details.”
Nasir continued, “The ILF political wing leader is called Ibrahim Makki. Here’s a recent picture.
You’ll fly out to Amsterdam tomorrow morning. We’ve got a suit, shirts, tie, nice shoes and so on for you, so that as far as customs and immigration are concerned, you are an IBM executive going to Amsterdam for a meeting at the Sonesta Hotel to discuss tariffs with some Dutch bureaucrats. We took the liberty of getting your passport from your flat while you were out yesterday, along with spare clothes. As we said, your sleepy assistant didn’t notice a thing, which was just as well. We would have got rid of him if he had been more alert. Glad we didn’t have to as it would have been one more complication to take care of. Anyway, again, I am sure you understand why we do things the way we do. It’s all for the good of the People’s cause.
The main point for you is that Ibrahim Makki’s meeting is at the Amsterdam Sonesta hotel. You are to go to the Sonesta’s underground garage for 11 a.m. There you will see a red Fiat 1500 near the lift door. The car keys will be in the tail pipe. Open it up and you will find a weapon that will be in the glove compartment. Our information is that Makki will arrive via the underground park at 11.30 and he will have to use the one and only lift to get to the penthouse floor, where the meeting is to be held. It’s up to you how you do the operation but afterwards make your way to the lounge bar at the top of the nearby Marriott Hotel and you’ll get further instructions there… That is, if you make it, and we’re sure you will, of course.”
“Ok, sounds fairly simple. I’ve just got to improvise a bit on the spot, which is fine with me. It sounds like maybe this isn’t going to be just a day trip though?”
“Ah no, we have other opportunities for you to serve on this excursion, if you prove yourself reliable once more. I don’t want to say more at this stage, but we won’t keep you away from Azar for too long. After this burst of activity we would let you lay low behind your harmless beatnik bookseller front for a while. You would become a sleeper in the cause for many months or even years perhaps, who knows? You would still be our asset and pass on any interesting intel you come across, say from your and Azar’s émigré contacts”
“Right, this all sounds good. I just would like to say that Azar could maybe be more involved in actual operations? She is an expert in martial arts, has had weapons training and is strongly motivated…”
“With respect, Comrade, how our people are deployed is up to the Inner Circle and we have other plans for how Azar can serve the cause,” interrupted Alpha.
“Understood,” replied Max, making a toasting gesture with the last of his whisky. Yes, he thought, as might have been expected, Azar’s role here is as a hostage to keep me in line. That is understood.
Max was taken to their room by Nasir who opened the door after knocking and said, “It’s an early start for you Max. We’ll take you to the airport at 6am. Be ready. Good night.”
The room was a good size, with no bed but a large mattress and an en suite bathroom. Max gently woke Azar who was now sleeping in her T shirt and underwear and as she opened her eyes he held a finger over his lips. He gestured towards the small bathroom suite and once they were inside, he turned on the shower.
He gave her a hug and a slow kiss, then whispered, “Sorry, baby, but this place is probably bugged. They’ve got plans for me from tomorrow on, for a few days in Europe, and you’re to be kept back. My guess is, you are to be basically a hostage to keep me from straying off the plan or doing any double crossing. If you get a chance, phone Jack Johnson at MAYfair 1376 and tell him we’ve met Comrades Alpha and X and that I’m going to Amsterdam to bump off Makki, a leader of the ILF. Or leave a note down a crack in the back of the Gandhi s
tatue in Tavistock Square written on the inside of a Senior Service packet. If I’m not back in, say a week, feel free to bust out of here, if you can, and go to ground. Remember our rendez-vous plan?”
“Yes, of course. I would guess that our RPI friends are underestimating me. That’s fine. Being underestimated makes things easier if I have to do something drastic to get out. Now come on in the shower with me and let’s see what we can get up to. Hope its just hidden mikes and not cameras. This secret agenting is exciting,” she said with a giggle, as she undressed quickly and got under the lukewarm shower. Max stripped off and going into the shower embraced her from behind