the passenger list has been scanned for high profile people and one has been flagged up of interest to us, Professor Winston Alexander Hooke.”
Strayker’s mind quickly recognised the name, “The man responsible for Project Reaper Ma’am.”
“Precisely Major; that’s both the scientists killed whom
were responsible for developing Project Reaper; coincidence Major?”
“Ma’am; I do not believe in coincidences like this.”
“My thoughts to Major.”
“Do you want the OSC to be brought in on this Ma’am?”
“Not at the moment Major; let’s wait and see how Six fair in Bogotá, I’ll keep you in the loop Major.”
“Thank you Ma’am.”
Strayker replaced the phone onto the table, “Bentley; run me a really hot bath.”
“Yes sir.”
Indian Ocean
Half mile South East of Baros Island Maldives
Lat = 4 degrees, 16.4 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 26.2 minutes East
Thursday 22nd December 1988
Zero one-twenty three hours local time
The twenty-five foot shallow draft fishing boat slipped quietly into the southeast lagoon of Baros Island, the outboard motor had been cut and the occupants paddled the last half-mile into the lagoon.
A man named Ajaz Ahmed spoke quietly, “remember; we take everyone alive, they will be unarmed.”
The twenty-armed men alighted the fishing boat and waded the last few yards to the beach, their first target was to secure the reception area and take control of the telephone switchboard.
They moved with purpose through the luxuriously furnished gardens quickly reaching the reception, where a member of staff was asleep on a chair.
They quickly bound and gagged him; one of the men accessed the switchboard room and disconnected all the villa phones from making outside calls.
Max had been awake for half an hour and had decided to take a swim in the lagoon alongside the water deck.
There was a three-quarter moon and the temperature was around sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit, he was now sitting on the steps of the deck with his feet dangling in the warm water when he heard sounds of movement over on his right near the reception area, his training quickly identified the sounds, as a group of people moving together, “just like... A combat unit,” he thought.
Max climbed the steps back onto the villa’s deck; he quickly looked in to check on Ruth, whom was still asleep, he considered waking her but decided to leave her asleep.
He moved quickly and stealthily towards the reception area stopping as he got to within ten yards, he quickly crouched behind a row of floral bushes having spotted a man of Asian origin with a rifle standing at the entrance to the reception.
A tall Asian man came out of the main entrance followed by at least a dozen armed men; Max heard his order “now go and wake the guests and bring them back here.”
Max quickly withdrew back to his villa and woke Ruth, “we have trouble darling, and it looks like our island of paradise has been invaded by a group of armed men.”
Ruth quickly sat up, “what are we going to do?”
Max was now in one of the wardrobes pulling out a
rucksack, “right; outside onto the decking and down into
the lagoon, it’s time to go scuba diving again.”
The scuba equipment was attached to a small platform at the bottom of the steps, both air tanks had been replaced with full ones Max and Ruth quickly strapped them on, Max also picked up his rucksack, Ruth was quick to point out “the contents will be soaked Max.”
“Not in this bag; it’s made from waterproof materials, know lets head out to the edge of the lagoon.”
With that, they both slipped into the warm Indian Ocean quickly submerging their bodies.
The islands guests had been quietly but brusquely woken at gunpoint and were now all in the reception complex.
Their numbers were being counted against the receptions guest book.
Ajaz Ahmed raised his arms and gestured them to sit on the floor, just before he spoke one of his men spoke quietly to him, “sir we have two missing from villa seven.”
“Take six men with you and search the island, find them Babar, remember we need them alive.”
Babar Awan turned quickly and took six men with him; he was a small man with a wiry physique he quickly organised the men into two groups “remember we need them alive,” he
then sent them clockwise and anticlockwise around the
island, Awan went with the anticlockwise group.
The hostages had all been searched; this had been quickly
and easily done as they were all in their night cloths.
Ajaz addressed them, “my name is Ajaz Awan, you are now hostages of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam follow my instructions and you will not be harmed, fail to follow them and make no mistakes you will be punished severely.”
The group sat stunned, “now I want you to split up into two groups, men over to my left and the women to my right, let’s move people.”
Ajaz a Tamil stood at six foot two inches, he was of thin build but the trained eye could observe the muscular frame, he had been born in Sri Lanka twenty-five years ago, educated at Oxford University gaining degrees in politics, economics and philosophy.
The Tamil Tigers as they are often referred to; are
a separatist militant group that has been fighting for a separate Tamil state in the north and east of Sri Lanka since 1976 and it has carried out numerous attacks against civilian, military, political, and religious targets.
The LTTE is notorious for having pioneered the suicide bomb jacket, as well as the use of women in suicide
attacks; all these attacks had claimed thousands of
lives.
They are an ethnic group that lives in southern India;
mainly in the state of Tamil Nadu and on Sri Lanka, an island of 21 million people off the southern tip of
India. They have been agitating for a homeland for ethnic Tamils, who feel persecuted by Sri Lanka’s ethnic majority, the Sinhalese
Most are of the Hindu religion, their Tamil language sets them apart from the four-fifths of Sri Lankans who are Sinhalese - members of a largely Buddhist, Sinhala-speaking ethnic group.
When Sri Lanka was ruled as Ceylon by the British, most Sri Lankans regarded the Tamil minority as collaborators with the imperial rulers and resented the Tamil’s
perceived preferential treatment. But since Sri Lanka became independent in 1948, the Sinhalese majority has dominated the country.
Ajaz Ahmed had returned from England to his home on the eastern side of Sri Lanka ten months ago, he had
Grown up resenting his peoples persecution and quickly joined the ranks of the Tamil Tiger’s in their struggle
for independence.
Ajaz had approached the Tamil leaders with his bold idea; to capture and ransom westerners to gain their
independence, his idea had been granted the go ahead and
he had now completed the first stage of his bold plan.
A hundred yards out in the lagoon, both Max and Ruth had
seen the other villas occupants being rounded up and escorted to the reception complex.
The water at this point was around twenty feet deep,
With both of them treading water, Ruth turned to Max and whispered, “What are we going to do?”
Max’s trained eye had naturally taken in the islands features and he remembered seeing a wrecked boat on the west side of the island, which at some time had been stranded on a sandbank.
“Remember that stranded boat on a sandbank I pointed out yesterday?”
Ruth rep
lied, “yes.”
“It’s about half a mile away, are you up for a night time swim?”
“Lead the way dear.”
Babar Awan and his men had searched the island thoroughly without finding the missing visitors.
He reported this to Ajaz, “bring the manager to me know Babar?”
The hotel manager a middle age man was brought before Ajaz who spoke to him, “you have two guests missing from villa seven; do you know where they are?”
The manager was extremely nervous and had no idea where
the missing guests were; he shook his head and replied,
“they arrived two days ago, they are still in residence
here.”
Ajaz inspected the guest registration book, a Max Storm and a Ruth Nelson, both from the United Kingdom, arrived on Monday 19th December, occupied villa seven, he turned to the manager, “do you still have their passports?”
The manager looked at him sheepishly, “no we only keep them for twenty four hours.”
“Okay Babar; take him back with the others.”
Max and Ruth found the marooned thirty-foot boat and climbed on board; it looked to have been a small cabin cruiser and had been here for several months looking at the barnacles growing on the hull.
They both removed their scuba gear, Max then opened his rucksack pulling out a pair of Zenith 10 x 50 lightweight binoculars, “I suppose they were brought along for bird spotting?” Ruth commented.
“A good boy scout always comes prepared darling.”
Max began surveying the island.
Ruth pulled the rucksack towards her, “what else have you got in here Max?”
Ruth rummaged through the contents, pulling out a
compass, torch a throwing knife and an OSC codetta
Comm.’s unit, “how did you get this lot through customs?”
“In our profession you need friends in many places
darling,” replied Max still surveying the island.
“Does this Codetta work this far from home?”
“That’s one of the new ones just developed by Vince at ICIS, it links to a satellite.”
“Are you going to call home?”
“After I have done a reconnoitre back on the island.”
“You’re not going back there, what about me?”
“You will be safe on this boat Ruth, remember I am not your average tourist.”
“That’s for sure, don’t go upsetting the locals and get back here pronto honey.”
Max made to slip over the edge of the boat, “what about your scuba gear?”
Max turned and kissed her on the cheek, “Not needed, may need to move fast, see you soon darling.”
Max placed the throwing knife between his teeth, slipping into the water, swimming back towards the island.
Ruth made herself comfortable in the boat, just as the heavens opened up with a torrential downpour of rain.
Baltimore Airport USA
Lat = 39 degrees, 10.9 minutes North
Long = 76 degrees, 39.8 minutes West
On route to
The Washington Hilton Hotel
1919 Connecticut Avenue Washington
Lat = 38 degrees, 55.0 minutes North
Long = 77 degrees, 2.7 minutes West
Thursday 22nd December 1988
Zero hours ten minutes Local time
Professor Hooke’s six-hour flight had been uneventful along with Ramon they had quickly cleared customs and were now on route in a hire car to the Washington Hilton Hotel where his family was in accommodation.
They had left the airport one hour ago onto I-95 and were now on Connecticut Avenue nearing the hotel.
Ramón spoke, “remember professor; when you meet your family act normal, tell them you are required at an urgent government conference in Bolivia, Your room is being constantly watched professor so don’t do anything stupid that will put your family in harm’s way, do you understand?”
“I don’t want my family hurt, don’t worry I’ll comply
with your requests.”
“Good,” replied Ramón, “meet me in the reception at eleven in the morning.”
Ramón pulled the car into the Hotel frontage, the door attendant approached along with a bellhop, the boot was opened and luggage removed, Ramón handed the keys over and along with the Professor, they walked into the Hotel.
Ten minutes later Professor Hooke was with his wife and two children in suite seven-twelve on the seventh floor.
Ramón had secured accommodation in the room next door.
British Embassy
2732 Avenida Arce in La Paz Bogotá.
Lat = 4 degrees, 35.8 minutes North
Long = 74 degrees, 4.7 minutes West
On route to Av Calle 53
Bogotá Colombia
Lat = 4 degrees, 39.1 minutes North
Long = 74 degrees, 6.1 minutes West
Wednesday 21st December 1988
Twelve fifty-one hour’s local time
The MI-6 agent tasked with tracking down Professor Thompson’s killers was Sam Winnet; he had been with the agency for the past twelve years and had a good record with the agency.
Sam had been involved in the agency’s work on at least five continents in his time; this was his first trip to South America.
His first stop had been the British Embassy 2732 Avenida Arce in La Paz; the building is an old three-storey colonial house, it is small by global standards, only housing three UK-based members of staff and eleven locally engaged officers.
Having introduced himself and spoken with the Ambassador,
he was now on route to where Professor Thompson had been killed; the five-mile journey in the hire car took just
twenty-five minutes.
Sam found the house easily; he parked up across the street and watched it for an hour observing no one
entering or leaving the property.
The street had been fairly quiet, probably due to the torrential rain that had continued to poor down since his arrival. He looked at his watch; fourteen sixteen hours, he stepped out of the car and ran across the street to the house. He tried the door that opened easily, Sam quickly looked around the street observing two dogs running up the street, and quickly drew his Glock- 17 pistol from his shoulder holster; entered the house closing the door behind him.
He had read both reports from Merrick and Patterson, in which they had described the house, he quickly checked the ground floor and then ascended the stairs, the door on his right was open, and he quickly checked the other door on the landing and found it still locked.
Sam entered the room on the right, and immediately observed the blood stain on the wooden floor along with two overturned chairs. He then made his way out the back door and onto the flat roof it was still throwing down with rain, he inspected the area it looked clean, as he
turned to look over the edge of the roof his trained eyes noticed a brown square object down on the next roof a few
feet below, he holstered his pistol and jumped over onto the adjacent roof, he picked up the brown object quickly identifying it as a wallet.
Sam slipped the wallet into his jacket pocket and returned back inside the house, where he was able to examine it out of the rain.
Surprisingly the contents were reasonably dry; the wallet had around three hundred Bolivianos in a mixture of bills along with a Bolivian driving licence in the name of Sergio Santiago with a black and white photo of Santiago.
The address showed 697 Carrera 30 Bucaramanga, Sam returned to his car and pulled out the map from the glove box.
He found Bucaramanga approximately two hundred miles to the North he checked his watch fifteen O-six hours, “four hours ma
x” he reflected.
The cars fuel gauge was showing three-quarters full, he fired the engine up and drove away along Av Calle and twenty minutes later, he was on route 45 the Pan American highway heading north.
Baros Island Maldives
Lat = 4 degrees, 16.4 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 26.2 minutes East
Thursday 22nd December 1988
Zero two-twenty hour’s local time
The tropical rain hammered down, Ruth found an old tarpaulin and quickly rigged it across part of the boat to give some shelter.
Max’s swim to the shore took several minutes as he located the best place on the beachfront coming ashore on the North West corner of the small island.
He quickly made his way through the hotels gardens by passing a group of the terrorists that were checking all the villas.
“It looks like they have discovered they are two guests short,” Max thought.
He stealthily moved right up to the Hotels reception and found an open window to look into the large reception area.
The guests were sitting on the floor in two groups of men and women, the leader spoke, “we appear to be two guests light; does anyone know the English couple whom are missing?”
No one from either group spoke.
“I’ll take your silence as a No; you had all better make yourselves comfortable on the floor as this could be a long drawn out affair, I’ll ensure you are watered and fed and anyone need the bathrooms make it known to one of my men.”
The leader walked away, Max observed six armed men, all carrying AK-47’s, guarded the hostage group. That was seven including the leader, the group he saw searching had eight, two men at the reception front door, one standing behind the reception counter by the switchboard and two he had clocked patrolling the marina. A quick bit of mental maths and he had twenty.
They were all armed with AK-47’s; Max had also observed several military ammunition containers and two longer one’s that looked like they would contain RPG’s.
Max overheard the leader speaking to the two men at the front of the reception, “the world will soon learn of our mission here, there is no turning back now we will either have our demands met; or we will all die including the hostages.”
Project Reaper Page 4