“We need to find which drug cartel is behind this and fast, Pierce as soon as your agent arrives in Bogotá
bring him up to speed.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Jonathan Troy spoke, “Ma’am; it would be prudent for us to recover all the Intel on Project Reaper from the research centre to avoid it falling into the wrong hands.”
“I’ll leave that for your department to see to you Jonathan,” replied the Prime Minister.
“I disagree Ma’am,” countered Strayker.
Jonathan Troy turned to him, “are you mad Major? Do you want that research to fall into the wrong hands?”
Strayker stood up and placed both hands on the table in front of him, leaning over the table, “I propose we use the research work as bait,” he paused.
“I would bet my service pension that the next target would be the research Labourites at A G B Research Centre
Hertfordshire; lets plant false research documents and wait for the fish to come, let them extract the bait and then apprehend them,” Strayker sat back down.
The Prime Minister stood up, “bravo Strayker, an excellent plan any objections?”
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.
“Major can ICIS help in any way?”
“I will speak to Vince Ma’am, I’m sure he can increase our Intel on this.”
“Before you go gentlemen; you are all aware of the very
recent events on Baros Island in the Maldives, it is with
great sadness that I have to inform you of the death of
Miss Ruth Nelson whom was killed by the terrorists; as you are aware she was the liaison between the OSC and my office to the press she will be missed, her funeral is next week I will expect to see you all there, thank you gentlemen.”
Home of Max Storm
Gables close
Datchet village
Lat = 51 degrees, 29.0 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 35.1 minutes West
Friday 23rd December 1988
Zero ten 05 hours GMT
Max was running down Eton road, he looked at his watch, showing he had been running for fifty-three minutes, he was half a mile from his home and increased his pace to a sprint; he turned right into the Gables close for the last two hundred yard sprint to his home at the end of the close.
Tucked away behind a stock brick wall with electronically operated gates and backing onto Datchet golf course is the home of Max Storm, the house comprised of four bedrooms, three receptions two bathrooms and a double garage.
Max operated a small key fob and the electronic gates opened, he entered the gravel driveway and began slowing his pace as he reached the front door, he paused to control his breathing before entering his home.
Ruth’s death had turned his world upside down; however, the death of people close to him was no stranger.
Max’s mother had died in a car crash when he was
Seventeen; his farther had been killed in the Falklands war in nineteen-eighty two, and had been posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross.
Max had seen many comrades fall during his years in the military yet the feelings he had developed for Ruth were different than those of anyone else even his parents.
He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge and reached for a high-energy drink, twisting the cap he took a long gulp draining the bottle in one.
Max switched on the portable television in the kitchen, the screen illuminated and a female presenter was giving the next twenty-four hour weather forecast, “mainly clear skies with a chance of a few scattered showers, highs of forty-one and lows of thirty-seven degrees Fahrenheit.”
Max tapped the remote control switch to the BBC news, the picture changed to the crash site of the 747 in Scotland, showing the debris and officials combing through it.
Another news presenter was talking, “it has now been confirmed that Clipper 107 was brought down by an explosive device within the aircraft, no one at present has claimed responsibility, the authorities are following up several leads.”
The picture changed to an aerial shot of Baros Island,
the same presenter continued, “In the early hours of yesterday morning local time, guests at this paradise
resort had been taken hostage by members of the Tamil Tigers, a number of them were from Britain, they were rescued when teams from the OSC carried out a raid resulting in all but three of the terrorist being killed, however one guest died, details of this person have not yet been released.”
Max hit the off switch and the screen went blank.
He sauntered up the staircase stripped off and entered the shower.
Verdugo Hacienda
Bucaramanga Colombia
Lat = 7 degrees, 8.3 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 6.1 minutes West
Friday 23rd December 1988
Sixteen thirteen hour’s local time
After his initial torturing Sam had spent the rest of the day in and out of sleep without being disturbed. As he was sitting back against the wall, contemplating his situation a small hatch at the bottom of the door opened and a plastic tray with food and a drink was pushed through. The flap closed and he sat for a few minutes looking at the tray.
He crawled over to the tray and dragged it back to the far wall where he had been sitting. He had no idea what it was but it smelt well was warm and there was a hot mug of coffee. The plate and mug like the tray were made of plastic. No utensils so he scooped the food up with his hand quickly devouring it and drinking the coffee down, it felt good to have some sustenance in him.
His highly trained mind quickly came up with a plan; he placed the tray at an angle against the wall and floor and struck it with his foot breaking into several pieces, fortunately, one of the pieces broke into what he wanted,
a sharp object that was around nine inches long thin and sharp like a knife.
Now all he needed to do was wait for his torturers to return and he did not need to wait long for that.
Twenty minutes after breaking the tray the door was being unlocked and in strode his two torturers. He was feigning being asleep, a boot struck his left thigh he slowly looked up; both men had a smile on their faces. As the one bent down to grasp his left arm, Sam allowed the man to pull him up whilst the second man stood close by with the handcuffs. Sam quickly moved his weight forward catching the first man of balance, his right hand came up from behind him with the shard of plastic tray in it; and he swung it in an arc slicing through the second man’s jugular vein.
Blood immediately spurt out across the room from the open wound, the man grasping his neck instantaneously.
Sam continued his forward movement knocking the second man to the floor and bringing down his make shift weapon into the man’s chest with such force it only stopped its penetration when Sam’s hand hit the man’s chest.
Eight seconds was all that had elapsed from the time he was kicked to both men lying dead at his feet and neither of his torturers had been able to cry out.
He moved to the door and listened; all was quiet, his
room was one of several of the long corridor; he stepped into the corridor and locked his cell door behind him.
Sam moved stealthy down the corridor passing the room on his right where he had been tortured, he continued to move along the corridor eventually coming to the main door.
He recalled that the building he was in was on the West side away from the main building, he opened the door slowly peering into the night, the whole area was in darkness with the exception of the main building about two-hundred yards away to the north east.
Up until then Sam had been holding his make shift knife and now he put it into his waistband.
The urge was to make his way to the wall and leg it out of there,
but he needed to try to get some Intel about the people here.
So he moved quickly around the perimeter of the property to the main building, there appeared to be no guards, which meant they were probably utilising CCTV.
Sam quickly scanned the walls of the building but could not see any signs of CCTV equipment where he was.
He moved close to the wall of the main building and crept to a large illuminated window, he positioned himself so he could peer in through the window, minimising his presence.
Sam was now looking at a large table with three people seated around it eating a meal.
Two of them were defiantly locals the third was a white European.
Besides the people, serving there was also another local man standing near the door with a handgun in his waistband.
Sam had seen enough; he had a good memory for detail it was now time to leg it out of here.
Ten minutes later, he had climbed the perimeter wall
and was running down the road away from the ranch.
He managed to flag a car down and hitched a ride back into Bucaramanga, where he quickly found a phone.
Bucaramanga Colombia
Lat = 7 degrees, 6.8 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 7.2 minutes West
Friday 23rd December 1988
Twenty-two fifteen hours local time
Sam had made his call from a bar to MI-6 back in London explaining what had happened, he was brought up to speed that another MI-6 operative Tony Walters had recently arrived at the British Embassy in Bogotá and that his priority was to liaise with Walters at the Embassy.
Sam went over to the man behind the bar and asked him for the directions to the bus terminal.
The barman spoke reasonable good English.
“The bus Terminal is on Calle 48 a five minute walk from here, go out the bar turn left up to the intersection and turn right onto Calle 48, its down on the right.”
Sam replied with a “thank you,” and paused.
“Maybe you can help me again?”
“If I can Senior,” replied the barman.
“A friend of mine who lives on Carrera 30 told me about a large ranch type property on the eastern side of town owned by a wealthy man, but I can’t remember his name.”
“Arh... I think you may be talking about Senior Verdugo
a very wealthy man, not a man to cross senior.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Let’s say Senior Verdugo has his hands in many pies not all of them legal.”
“Well thank you for that.”
With that, Sam left the bar and walked to the bus terminal.
He was in luck the next bus was ready to go in five minutes at eleven PM, he bought his one-way ticket, and boarded the bus that had several local people on board, he found a seat near the rear sat down ready for the eight-hour journey to Bogotá.
Verdugo Hacienda
Bucaramanga Colombia
Lat = 7 degrees, 8.3 minutes North
Long = 73 degrees, 6.1 minutes West
Saturday 24th December 1988
Zero-six hundred hours local time.
Ramón roused Toledo Verdugo from his sleep.
“Senior; the English man has escaped and killed both the men guarding him.”
Toledo sat up, “how is that possible Ramón?”
“It would appear both men were killed with a sharp object, there were remnants of his food tray on the floor, I would suggest he fashioned a blade from it.”
“A clever Gringo Ramón, any idea as to the time he made his escape?”
“Looking at the body’s sometime last evening senior.”
Toledo looked at his watch, “have our men go into town; I want any information on the gringo and fast.”
“I’ll see to it know.”
“Wake the professor and have him meet me on the veranda in thirty minutes.”
Ramón left Toledo Verdugo by his bed, he woke the professor and told him to meet Toledo on the veranda in thirty minutes and then went down to the men in the
billet block; he turned on the lights and roused them.
Twenty minutes later a dozen men were leaving to scour the town for information.
Professor Hooke had washed, changed, and walked down to the veranda where Toledo Verdugo was waiting.
“Take a seat Professor; help yourself to a hot drink.”
The Professor poured some tea and sat back in his chair. The sun had risen fifty minutes ago the skies were clear with the temperature around sixty-seven degrees Fahrenheit with no wind.
Toledo Verdugo and the Professor sat in silence, the Professor appraised the land around the property and spoke, “you have a beautiful place here.”
Toledo replied, “Thank you Professor, I can see that you are a man that appreciates the finer things in life.”
Both men sat in silence sipping their drinks before Toledo spoke again, “Professor I want you to tell me about Project Reaper keep it simple none of that scientist technical talk.”
Professor Hooke continued to gaze at the large garden areas of well-kept lawn and beautiful flowerbeds before turning to face Toledo Verdugo.
“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 final stage of a seeds development when the embryos are 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 embryos that are part of each mature seed.”
The Professor paused before continuing.
“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. Is that simple enough for you sir?”
Toledo finished his tea, stood up, and walked to the edge of the veranda; he turned to face the Professor, “I believe I understand the concept Professor; however I cannot allow it or you to interfere with my business.”
Professor Hooke replied, “and your business is about destroying peoples life’s around the world.”
“Professor if I were not involved there are many others whom would be and in fact are involved in the business of trafficking drugs, now if you will excuse me I have matters to take care of.”
Toledo walked back into the main room, and the Professor poured himself another cup of tea, his thoughts
drifted to his family in Washington.
British Embassy
2732 Avenida Arce in La Paz Bogotá.
Lat = 4 degrees, 35.8 minutes North
Long = 74 degrees, 4.7 minutes West
Saturday 24th December 1988
Zero-Seven twelve hours local time
For the eight-hour journey Sam had slept waking about thirty minutes from Bogotá, the bus dropped him right across the road from the embassy his watch was showing
Twelve minutes past seven in the morning.
Sam entered the Embassy and was greeted by Tony Walters whom he had only met once previously.
Being a weekend, they easily found a quiet room; over cups of coffee, Tony Walter’s carried out the debriefing with Sam that lasted just under an hour.
At the end of the debriefing, it was decided to catch the next plane back to the UK.
A quick phone call had them booked on the next flight at ten o’clock in ninety minutes time.
Verdugo Hacienda
Bucaramanga Colombia
Lat = 7 degrees, 8.3 minutes North
<
br /> Long = 73 degrees, 6.1 minutes West
Tuesday 27th December 1988.
Zero eight thirty-seven local time
Ramón’s man had made enquiries with one positive result, a barman had informed them of a Gringo fitting Sam’s description enquiring about the bus terminal, further enquiries at the bus terminal confirmed a one way ticket purchased to Bogotá.
Enquiries with Bogotá airport confirmed a passenger named Sam Willet had boarded the ten o’clock morning flight to London.
During the last three days plans had been made, Toledo Verdugo had surmised that the British agent would have reported back to his superiors and the possibility that he may have seen Professor Hooke could not be ruled out.
The Professor had been moved to another location about twenty miles north near Rio Negro at a warehouse with laboratory facilities and instructions to begin work on an anti-viral remedy, for the Reaper virus.
Toledo Verdugo had concluded that the Professor’s
research work would be very useful to him; he could virtually eliminate all of his competitors or where necessary blackmail them into paying him large sums of money to allow them to continue in the trade, whichever way he would have enormous control the production of cocaine, thereby increasing his wealth and power.
With the past two days being the Christmas holidays
there were very few flights to London; therefore, today was the first opportunity for Ramón to book flights,
for himself and four of his men.
They were booked on the thirteen-twenty hours flight to Heathrow London; they would take the Lear jet from Bucaramanga Palo Negro airport down to Bogotá.
The plans discussed were simple, get to the research establishment in Hertfordshire, break in, steal the Professor’s research work on Project Reaper, and return home.
South Essex Crematorium
Ockendon Rd, Upminster, Essex
Lat = 51 degrees, 32.6 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 15.5 minutes East
Wednesday 28th December 1988
Project Reaper Page 8