Light of the Sun: They always make a mistake and when they do, we kill them...

by David Costa

  Both Anna and Shimon stood to leave.

  ‘As we are working together on this? I would like to have one of my people working in the control room with Matthew,’ said Shimon.

  ‘That will not be a problem your input will be greatly appreciated,’ replied Fraser.

  After the two Israelis left the room Broad and ‘C’ sat facing Reece across the conference table. Sir Ian leant across the table before he spoke directly to Reece.

  ‘Now David, as I’m sure you know; this operation so far has not been going too well and we find ourselves in a dangerous situation where we have at least three high-powered terrorists in this country with plutonium for use in a dirty bomb. We all know the damage that would cause. I believe our Mossad friends have not been completely truthful with us. If they had been from the start, we could have nipped this whole thing in the bud. It is obvious they were depending on their dead agent to give them the heads up when to move. His death changed everything, it forced them to be more forthcoming with us. Pointing fingers now will get us nowhere, we are where we are. I’m saying this, because although we might appear to be working closely with Mossad, we should not trust them all the way. That’s why anyone entering this building is scanned discreetly when they walk through the main doors. The scanners would pick up any bugging transmitters they would have on them if they wanted to leave one behind after their visit. Do not be in any doubt, we are in charge now. These people are in our country so we will run Operation Search our way, and if we can, we will deal with the terrorists in our own way, the way SG9 has been set-up for. Are you happy with that?’

  ‘I agree as far as I’m concerned. I’ve told you in the past my reason for joining SG9 was for just this sort of situation. These people intend to kill us, our task is to kill them first. We have all seen the damage they are capable of. The only way they’ll change is if we stop them and convince them this is not the way to progress their argument.’ replied Reece.

  Jim Broad stood up and stretched his legs, walking to the large window that looked out over the River Thames and London; raindrops were hitting the window. Turning back to face the men at the table he spoke once more.

  ‘David, what this all boils down to now is, that we need to be as lucky as we were in Manchester. You were able to stop them then.’

  Manchester was still fresh in his mind and always would be. The SG9 and SAS team had tracked down a terrorist cell which combined an Irish Republican sniper and Islamic fanatics.

  ‘We had some luck, but we also had a good agent from the start which helped. This time, the agent has been killed and the bad guys are in the wind. And remember; in Manchester, although we stopped them killing the Prime Minister, we lost two of ours and a civilian.’

  Now it was the turn of Sir Ian Fraser to join the conversation.

  ‘Yes, but our experience tells us there is always the risk of losing some of our own. The case in Manchester being an example. But thanks to you and your team we stopped it being much worse and the whole cell including the woman leader who escaped to Egypt were eliminated.

  In a way this operation is slightly similar. We are looking for these people, but this time we have a full-scale alert out there helping you, a lot more eyes and ears than you had in Manchester including, this time, Mossad. If you need anything more you will have it, but I want you to understand one thing; if you and your SG9 team do find these people and eliminate them; you’re still a secret unit, which this country does not have or acknowledge. I know you understand this, but I’m reminding you. We have politicians who shit themselves that we have such people, who will always throw us to the wolves to protect their own skins if they have to.’

  ‘You don’t have to remind me Sir Ian. I remember how those politicians gave the terrorists everything they wanted in Northern Ireland, letting mass murderers out of prison after two years, and giving those on the run a free ‘Get out of jail’ card. The thing that makes me even more angry is that those same terrorists are now politicians with big salaries and big offices at Stormont, with chauffeur driven limos and bodyguards. Don’t worry, when it comes to trust, then politicians are on a par with terrorists.’

  Both Broad and ‘C’ smiled understanding.

  ‘As Sir Ian just said David, anything you need. After this meeting, if you go to the control room you will find your colleagues from Manchester, Mr Cousins and Mr Harrison. You also have an SAS team at the London District Army Barracks waiting for your briefing as and when you need them. Their commander is also the same one you worked with in Manchester, Captain Middleton. And some more information I think you will be interested in; your lady is currently on route from Malta on the same flight as Matthew Simons and the Mossad agent you know as Palo. They should arrive in a couple of hours, and I’ve arranged for them to be picked up at the airport. I’ve booked a room for you at The Park Plaza Westminster Bridge Hotel so you can be with her later and get back here for the briefing at five. Tonight, the bill is on us. If you need it any longer, you’re paying.’

  Reece left the two men to their plans and when he walked through the outer office, he knew the secretary would be wondering why he was smiling.

  Chapter 20

  The windowless room was illuminated by light from a batch of screens. Two men sat in front of these screens, both using headsets to communicate to operators on the ground. The chat was familiar to the other occupants in the room, as they set up call signs, linking them to the control room and identifying each person they were communicating with and locating where each call sign was currently situated on the streets of London. Operation Search was underway.

  Reece saw Joe Cousins and Steve Harrison as soon as he walked into the room. All three shook hands. ‘Am I glad to see you guys,’ said Reece.

  ‘Malta seems to have been good to you,’ said Harrison.

  ‘If you think that Steve your eyesight’s playing you up, you need a trip to the opticians.’ laughed Reece.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ asked Cousins.

  Reece quickly brought them up to speed explaining the work with Mossad in Malta and the reason they were here today.

  ‘Plutonium?’ Henderson whistled softly to himself.

  ‘Yes, and it’s here somewhere in this country, most likely London.’

  ‘Can I put in for my backdated leave now? For the first flight to somewhere sunny preferably,’ asked Cousins.

  ‘Afraid not Joe. Matthew Simons will have a more detailed brief, and hopefully an idea where these people might be when we get back here at five. In the meantime, get what you need from stores and catch-up on anything else that you can, and I’ll see you both back here then.’

  ‘I assume that includes weapons?’ said Cousins.

  Reece opened his Barbour jacket exposing his Smith and Wesson 59 resting in the holster.

  ‘We can be sure the people we will be hunting will be armed so get what you need from the armoury. There are two BMWs ready for us down in the car park I’ll take one, you two can have the other.’

  Reece listened into the communications traffic coming and going through the airwaves, much of it familiar to him from his own days when working undercover in Northern Ireland when looking for a dangerous foe, always to be ready for the unexpected. Nothing changes, he thought, the opposition might change but the threats were still the same.

  ‘Red Four to control in position three, over.’

  One of the operators at the computer console touched the screen which displayed a digital map of London, a small red dot began to flash on and off showing exactly where Red Four was at that moment in time.

  ‘Roger Red Four I have you,’ replied the desk operator. Reece knew that in an operation this big, at least ten teams of eight would be spread out over the city, each covering a specific area. The teams would be colour coded to prevent confusion, White Team, Black Team, Red Team and so on. Each team would have a vehicle which could be a van, a black cab, or a motor bike; the rest of the team would be on foot. The teams would be a m
ixture of age with men and women from different ethnic backgrounds and skin colour.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. The screen showed a text message from Mary.

  ‘See you soon, can’t wait xxx’

  Once again Reece was smiling as he headed for the lift. He picked up the BMW from the underground car park and drove out, joining the traffic over Vauxhall Bridge. Switching on the radio comms he could hear control continuing with its contacting teams in the city confirming their locations. Reece hated driving through London and would usually prefer to walk or use a taxi. The traffic was as always, busy and moved slowly. The good thing about the car he thought was that it had hidden blue flasher lights and a two-tone siren if he needed to move fast. He was sorely tempted to turn them on as he turned and drove slowly along the Thames embankment towards the Houses of Parliament but controlled the thought, for now.

  The Park Plaza Westminster Bridge Hotel is located on the south bank of the Thames opposite the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben less than a five-minute walk from the London Eye. It was one of the hotels tourists preferred, with easy access to the historical buildings of church and government which, as Reece found when he entered his allocated room, he could see from the magnificent views across the Thames flowing three stories below. Reece threw his small bag onto the bed and checked out the minibar which was well stocked. The room had air conditioning with the usual large flat screen TV. The only whisky was Jamison, which would have to do for now. He made a mental note to buy a bottle of Bushmills as soon as he could find an off-licence. It would be an hour before Mary arrived, so he asked reception to give her a key to the room 303 when she arrived; he sent her a text with the number and that he would see her later for dinner. He knew Mary would make a beeline for the hotel pool so she would be totally relaxed when he got back from his next port of call, the London District Army Barracks. The army based there carry out responsibilities for everything within the M25 motorway corridor that surrounds London. Having worked closely with the SAS on operations in Northern Ireland and most recently in Manchester, Reece had great respect for the men who made up the most secret unit of the British Army. As he drove through the traffic his mind went back to those days in Northern Ireland when once every six months, he would travel to Hereford to brief the next incoming Squadron from 22 SAS coming to the Province to take over the task from the current one leaving after their six-month tour. In what was once Stirling Lines, named after the founder of the SAS, David Stirling, he would stay for a couple of days in the officer mess and drink heavily with the men before and after his briefing.

  At the main entrance to London and the South of England’s Army Head Quarters he presented his MI5 Security Services Pass. This document was used by all SG9 operators as it gave the correct amount of impressive credentials when operating on the British mainland. The document told those who inspected it, respect the person who presented it, ask no questions, mind your own business, and carry out the instructions when asked. When Reece said he was there to speak with a Captain in the SAS, no further questions were needed. The armed military sentry directed him to park at an office building close to the entrance then go inside where he would be directed to a waiting room while they located the officer.

  The waiting room consisted of a row of four chairs and a large coffee table. Reece checked his phone while he waited, there were no messages. Ten minutes later the door opened and Captain Geoff Middleton, 22nd Special Air Service Regiment entered. The recognition between the two men would have been obvious to anyone watching. Reece stood and, taking the offered hand to shake it, he couldn’t help but think again how fit and healthy this man looked and how strong his grip.

  ‘Geoff, great to see you. You look great, I’m glad it’s you.’

  ‘I don’t know if I could say the same, remembering the last time we worked together.’

  Reece laughed. ‘If there’s going to be trouble, I can’t think of anyone better to get me out of it.’

  ‘What is this all about David, we got the shout at the Headshed and told to get here asap?’

  Reece knew that Captain Geoff Middleton and his team would be permanently on call at the SAS Headquarters in Hereford or as the men referred to it, the Headshed, ready to move at a moment’s notice to anywhere in the world to deal with any imminent threat.

  ‘What do you know, what have they told you?’

  It was Middleton’s turn to smile.

  ‘Come on David. You know we are like mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed full of shit. They tell us as little as they can. At least with you I know I’ll get the truth. So, what’s happening?’

  ‘You’re going to want to be sitting when I tell you.’

  Reece pulled a chair to one side of the coffee table and sat to face Middleton sitting opposite.

  ‘Seriously Geoff, what have you been told so far to save me repeating something you may already know?’

  ‘The Headshed told us to get here asap with equipment to assault a building or take out a terrorist cell on the streets of London. I do not even know who the opposition are, or their firepower. I’m hoping you can tell me that.’

  For the next half hour Reece brought Middleton up to date, taking him all the way from working with Mossad agents in Malta, to the present, where it was believed that the terrorist cell was somewhere in London in possession of plutonium ready to use as a dirty bomb.

  ‘So, let me get this straight. You lost them. You don’t know where they are, and we could all die at any moment?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Then I can see why you sent for us. Find them, stop them and kill them, easy.’

  ‘We know a few things about them and what at least two of them look like provided they don’t use good disguises. We have every agency you could think of looking for them, including Mossad. We have all current ongoing operations; with the surveillance, bugs, and informants, being directed to provide any information they can towards Operation Search. Everything will be co-ordinated and run by one of our top MI6 Middle East experts through a control room at Vauxhall Cross. We have a full briefing there at five this afternoon. You should be there. The feelers for information went out this morning, and I’m hoping we will have something then. So, you should come, it will be fun, and you will get the opportunity to put your questions. In the meantime, bring your own team up to date. How many are there?’

  ‘Counting me, ten with the option for more from the Headshed if I need them.’

  ‘Until five then.’

  Reece shook Middleton’s hand. Once more the strong grip still there.

  Chapter 21

  ‘Did you sleep well?’ asked Hassan.

  Yasmin pushed her hair back from her face and with her hands folded it to the back of her head then using the elastic hair band, wrapped it into a ponytail.

  ‘Yes, thank you. The bed was soft and cool. Is there anything to eat, I’m famished?’

  Hassan smiled. He had not cooked anything for two reasons; he didn’t want to make too much noise as he wanted to let her sleep, and the second reason was there was nothing much to cook anyway.

  ‘There’s nothing much in the fridge. If you can wait, there’s a chip shop across the street and I can get us something?’

  Looking through the window across Edgware Road Yasmin could see several shops but didn’t have a clue which one was a chip shop.

  ‘Chip shop, what’s that?’

  Hassan realised they probably didn’t have any such thing as a chip shop where she came from.

  ‘It’s like a takeaway café that sells fried food like potatoes that are cut into small pieces and fish covered in batter.’

  ‘The Teacher told us not to go out unnecessarily.’

  Now it was Hassan’s turn to look out the window.

  ‘I think the Teacher would want us at our best for our mission. To be our best we need to be well fed and the chip shop is just across the street, so I’ll not be going far, and I won’t take long. There is some bread in the kitchen.
Butter me two slices and get out the plates. Do you like salt and vinegar?’

  No, she thought. She’d not tasted fish and chips before. She wouldn’t risk it.

  Hassan had been true to his word and came back with the fish and chips wrapped in paper within fifteen minutes of leaving the apartment.

  Yasmin had to admit her food was delicious, but as she was hungry the new experience would have been the same with most foods.

  They had just finished eating when they heard the downstairs front door open and close, and the footsteps coming up the stairs.

  The Arab had booked into The Beaumont Hotel in Mayfair, and he could walk to the apartment but, as it was raining, he took a taxi to Hyde Park corner and walked the short distance from there. To anyone watching he looked every inch the businessman; wearing a dark three-piece suit, he walked fast to get out of the rain as quickly as he could, again this wouldn’t stand out as everyone was walking at the same pace to avoid the same wet stuff. He had always hated the British weather and longed for the warm sun of the lands of Allah.

  ‘Good morning children, blessings be upon you,’ he said when entering the room.

  Both Yasmin and Hassan stood for the teacher as children would in class.

  ‘Did you sleep well my children?’

  ‘Yes, very well,’ said Hassan.

  The Arab sat on the chair at the window and faced both of his students.

  ‘What is that smell, have you been cooking?’

  Both knew the teacher was no fool and a lie would be worse than the truth.

  ‘We have eaten from the takeaway across the street. There was nothing for us in the fridge or kitchen. It only took me a few minutes to collect it and return here.’

  The Arab was silent for at least two minutes. Both students sat on the couch and looked at each other and waited before the teacher spoke once more. He spoke softly and slowly making sure that both heard him and would understand every word.