Strayker spoke into his radio Comm.’s, “all units, seize fire and stand down.”
The resonance of gunfire immediately stopped.
Strayker spoke again, “all OSC teams RV at helicopter pads two and three, Para units helicopter pads one, and four, may I take this opportunity to thank you all and wish you and your loved ones a Merry Christmas, out.”
On the helicopter pads were four Chinook helicopters their twin rotors powering up, the OSC teams and Parachute units were boarding the birds, and five minutes later, all four helicopters were airborne heading west.
Max and Strayker were standing by their respective vehicles, Strayker’s dark blue 3.6 litre Jaguar Sovereign and Max’s Meteor metallic grey Porsche 911.
“Max; I have made the decision to reallocate each team with a number from one to six, rather than the colour code system we are currently using.”
“Any particular reason for that sir?”
“I just feel it fits in better with the way we operate Max.”
“Also; due to our recent losses I have reallocated the units Eagle call signs, Yours and mine will remain the same, Roy Smith is now eagle four, Colin Bishop eagle five, Vas Dembo eagle six, Manny Gall eagle seven and
Rob Flynn eagle eight.
“That’s fine with me sir, Flynn he is one of the new men I can see why you choose him,” replied Max.
“He was at the end of his time with the SAS, and his experience will be a benefit to us Max.”
“He is one hell of a decorated soldier, Distinguished Conduct Medal (DCM) Military Medal (MM) and a Distinguished Service Order (DSO), replied Max.
“Yes an extraordinary career,” replied Strayker.
Strayker continued, “Have you anything planned over Christmas Max?”
“We are going to the Maldives sir.”
“I take it; the we means Miss Nelson.”
“That’s correct sir; I hope you have no objections?”
“She’s a rare find Max; it has not gone unnoticed that the two of you have been seeing each other over the past
few months.”
“She’s certainly that and more sir.”
Strayker smiled, “Just remember Max she’s government property.”
“Ruth will be in good hands sir.”
“I have no doubt of that Max, enjoy your time together.”
“Thank you sir; what are your plans for the festive period?”
“I have a brother in New York; he and his family have invited me over, I have not seen them for five years, my flights next Wednesday.”
Both men bid each other goodbye and went their respective ways.
Verdugo Hacienda
Bucaramanga Colombia
Lat = 7 degrees, 8.3 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 6.1 minutes West
Tuesday 13th December 1988
Zero ten hundred hours local time
The weather was in the top seventies sultry with clear skies as Toledo Verdugo sat on his veranda, he was considered the biggest drug lord in Bolivia, born in nineteen forty-nine he was now thirty-nine years of age. He started off as a thief on the streets and began building his drugs empire in the nineteen seventies.
His drugs empire controlled the drugs entering America, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Peru, Bolivia and into Asia.
He was the prime suspect behind many killings of government ministers and newspaper reporters who wrote against him.
Toledo Verdugo was a small man standing at five foot three inches, his lifestyle had made him into a portly man, and he was a lifelong sports fan having built many little league baseball stadiums around Bucaramanga.
His wife was fifteen years his junior and he had two young sons.
He was reading a file whilst his trusted friend Ramón
Cubrero sat across the table from him; Ramón had grown
up with Toledo and had entered the world of crime with him, three years younger than Toledo he was leaner and fitter, as befitted a man whom was the chief enforcer of the Verdugo drugs cartel.
Toledo Verdugo looked up from the file, “our profits are well up; twenty-five percent in the last six months.”
“I am pleased you are happy with them Senior Verdugo,” replied Ramón.
“Street prices for crack are currently $130,000 per kilogram and cocaine powder at $150,000 per kilogram up fifty-five percent, your report also reports that nearly six million American’s are using our cocaine. We appear to be in a very profitable business Ramón.”
“Si senior Verdugo; your business is probably the fastest growing in the world.”
“Now my good friend; what of this Professor Thompson?”
“I have Sergio waiting outside senior.”
“Bring him in,” replied Verdugo.
Ramón left the veranda and a few minutes later returned with Sergio Santiago.
Santiago stood and gave a bow.
“Sergio what have you found out from the professor?”
Sergio related the events of the previous day to Verdugo.
When he had finished his account Verdugo spoke; “you have
done well Sergio a pity about Jose and Juan being killed,
see that their families are looked after Sergio, now leave us and spend some of that money you have earned.”
“Si senior Verdugo,” with that Sergio turned and left the two men on the veranda.
Verdugo spoke; “what do you know of this Professor Hooke?”
“I have spoken to our sources in the government earlier this morning, they sent this file over.
Ramón passed the file over the table, Verdugo opened it and read the contents when he finished he stood up and walked to the edge of the veranda looking out across his land; he spent a few minutes in deep thought before returning to his chair.
“This professor Hooke presents a threat to my empire Ramón; now this is what I want done!”
Home Office
2 Marsham Street London SW1P 4DF.
Lat = 51 degrees, 29.7 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 7.8 minutes West
Wednesday 14th December 2010
Zero nine hundred hours GMT
James Patterson the home secretary was sitting at his desk as Bill O’Connor entered, he looked up; “take a seat I’ll be with you in a moment Bill.”
Bill sat down and looked around the mahogany furnished room; several paintings of famous battle scenes adorned the walls along with a large bookcase.
The home secretary looked up, “so Bill what’s the story on Professor Thompson’s death?”
Bill O’Connor was a portly man standing at six feet six inches, his height allowed him to carry his large frame without looking obese. He had served in the armed services spending several years in the intelligence corps; he placed a file on the desk,” I have interviewed both Merrick and Patterson the Professors bodyguards, their stories match and are correct.”
“How did they lose him?”
“The Professor slipped out of his hotel, Merrick, and Patterson tracked him down, and whilst they were affecting his release, he took a bullet from one of his
kidnappers and died a few minutes later.”
“Sounds like right bloody mess.”
‘To be fair sir; they did well to locate him as quick as they did, given the level of corruption within the indigenous population and Police.”
“Anything else Bill?”
“It would appear the Professor divulged information about Project Reaper.”
“Damn,” replied the home secretary.
“We have a possible lead on his kidnapper’s sir.”
“Who were they Bill?”
“The dead guy has been confirmed from perso
nal effects taken at the scene; as a Pablo Mendez, he is an enforcer for one of the local drug cartels.”
The home secretary rose from his chair and looked out of his window; he stroked his chin with his right hand and turned to O’Connor.
“I need to personally take this file to the Prime Minister; Bill.”
“Anything more you want me to do with this sir?”
“Has his family been informed?”
“All taken care of sir,” replied O’Connor.
“I’ll speak to you tomorrow morning; see that my secretary books you in before you go.”
A G B Research Centre
Hertfordshire
Lat = 51 degrees, 48.6 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 21.3 minutes West
Friday 16th December 1988
Zero eleven fifteen hours GMT
Advanced Genetic Biotechnology is the largest agricultural research centre in the United Kingdom.
In one of its laboratories, Professor Winston Alexander Hooke was examining his latest research. Professor Hooke was fifty-five years of age with short-cropped greying hair standing only five foot three inches tall, he was small for a man, however, what he lacked in stature; he made up for in intellect; three years earlier, he had become the Nobel Prize winner for chemistry.
Two years ago, a government subcommittee had approached him to find a way to eradicate the opium poppy plant; his two years of work had finally born results two weeks ago when he finally developed the Reaper gene technology along with Professor Thompson.
The technology behind the discovery works by spraying a crop with a chemical that has been combined with a toxin gene lethal to the plants embryo. This is controlled by what is called a late promoter that is active only during the late stage of a seeds development
when the embryo is developing, added to this is a blocker that interferes with the ability of the promoter to turn on the gene.
The result is that the toxin when released; kills the embryo that is part of each mature seed.
This now causes the crop to be barren not producing any seed for the second generation, the final act is even more devastating, the toxin now finds its way down the plant into its roots and disseminates into the earth, causing the soil to become barren for the opium poppy plant for ten years.
Professor Hooke was distracted by a knock on the door followed by his assistant entering, “Professor the people you invited have just arrived.”
“Thank you Mary, please be kind enough to take them to the atrium for greenhouse seven and have them help themselves to the refreshments there, I will be with them in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes later Professor Hooke was standing in front of his audience, the same people whom had given him the task to eradicate the opium poppy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, two years ago you approached me to come up with a way to eradicate the opium poppy, I must admit; when I first heard your request I thought you were asking me to do the impossible even though in my
profession the word impossible is not a word my
profession uses lightly,” he paused for effect.
“However I am pleased to tell you the impossible has become possible, along with the total commitment of professor Thompson I now give you from Project Reaper; the Reaper gene.”
With that, he drew back a large curtain area that revealed three crops of opium poppy plants, first a healthy batch, the second showing signs of decaying and the third total destruction, with the remnants of the plants lying dead on the soil.
“Step forward ladies and gentlemen and gaze upon the end of the opium poppy.”
The audience moved forward, stopping at a roped barrier a yard away from the propagation, looking at the opium poppies.
He began to explain how the Reaper gene worked, “what you are seeing here are the three phases in the destruction of this plant, and from stage one to three is four days.”
When the professor had concluded his audience applauded him.
“Now ladies and gentlemen; if we retire to conference room one I believe we have some drink befitting a toast to this success, if you would like to follow Mary, thank
you.
The audience drifted from the greenhouse with the exception of Darren Smythe the head of the government subcommittee, “Professor may I have word with you?”
“By all means,” replied the Professor.
“I have some bad news concerning Professor Thompson; he was killed in Bogotá four days ago, I know you were both very close, I would like to offer my condolences.”
Professor Hooke was stunned by this revelation, “how did
this happen?”
“Things are a bit sketchy at the moment; however it appears he was kidnapped and was shot, when his body guards attempted a rescue.”
“What did they want from him?”
“We are pretty sure he was taken for his involvement with the Reaper project, from the report from his body guards his dying words were, Project Reaper they know.”
“Do we know who took him?”
“Not at the moment professor, however there are some leads being followed up by the home office and security services.”
“Has his family been informed yet?”
“All taken care of professor.”
“I must go and see them, offer my apologies to my guests Mr Smythe.”
“Certainly professor, will you be still going to America next Wednesday?”
“Yes my family have flown out today; I will join them next Wednesday.”
“This has certainly put a dent on the unveiling today and so close to Christmas, may I offer you and your family the season’s greetings professor.”
“Thank you Mr Smythe, enjoy your Christmas and I will see
you again in the New Year.”
Professor Hooke went out to the car park and walked over to his classic primrose yellow coloured MG Midget sports car, he climbed in turned the key; the twin carburettor twelve hundred and fifty cubic capacity engine kicked into life. He drove slowly down the gravel driveway leading to the main road; Professor Thompson’s family lived in Harpenden less than fifteen minutes away,
poor Rosie and the children he thought. The day was cold with a bright low sun that followed him on his left side as he drove down the rural roads, up ahead he noticed a car parked up on the approach to right hand bend, “god what a stupid place to stop,” he muttered.
He slowed right down and noticed a female standing by the car to the side of the road, he also noticed the rear nearside tyre was flat.
Professor Hooke pulled up behind the blue mini motor car,
climbing out he approached the female, he was instantly struck by her beauty, certainly from the south America’s probably a student looking at her and assessing she was probably about twenty years of age.
“May I be if assistance?”
The girl smiled, “my tyre it’s just punctured as I came down the road.”
Her English was very good with a sexy taint of South
American, “don’t worry I’ll have it fixed in no time and
we can both be on our way.”
“That’s so kind of you,” she replied.
“Not at all; after all it is the season for giving.”
The professor went to the mini’s boot and was relieved to see a spare tyre and tools; he took of his coat, rolled his sleeves up and began to jack the car up. As he was bending down, he felt a terrific blow to his skull that sent a shockwave through his body before collapsing unconscious at the side of the road.
Baros Island Maldives
Lat = 3 degrees, 12.1 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 13.3 minutes East
Wednesday 21st December 1988
Eighteen hundred hour
s and thirty minutes
Local time.
The temperature had peaked at thirty degrees Celsius during the afternoon, circled in ten minutes; this gorgeous half-moon shaped island is encircled with dazzling white sands. Max and Ruth had arrived the previous day having landed on the nearby island of Male; a twenty-five minute gentle speedboat ride brought them their first site of the island.
Sandy shores ringed the islands crystal blue reef, with swaying palms creating the perfect picture.
The palm-thatched roofs of secluded villas peeped from the lush foliage. The speedboat tied up by the wooden jetty that led to three timber and golden thatched pavilions, which made up the reception and two restaurants.
They had been led to their villa number seven through meandering shady paths, surrounded with bright tropical plants with the lazy sound of the lagoons gentle surf.
Their water villa was on stilts with panoramic sea
view along with an over water deck with steps down to the sea; equipped with air-conditioning, minibar, and
television.
Max and Ruth had spent some time that afternoon
leisurely scuba diving within the lagoon that was teeming with exotic fish creating a kaleidoscope carnival.
They were now sitting in the sundown restaurant
sipping Champaign; having watched a dazzling sunset that was now slipping down below a cloudless horizon.
Ruth’s thoughts drifted to her first encounter with the world of the OSC earlier that year, as a reporter for national newspaper in Fleet Street.
She was tall for a female five foot eleven with red hair that denoted her fiery spirit. Her figure was slim with lively well-rounded breasts and a nice pert bum; she was not the sort of girl you failed to notice.
Ruth had witnessed a gun battle in Bromley Kent, when two men had targeted Major general Strayker. Resulting in an OSC unit intervening in a helicopter quickly followed by Police units resulting in a Mexican style standoff between the Police and OSC. Strayker had placed a call to the Prime Minister and the Police units were called off.
Project Reaper Page 2