Tuesday 12th September 1989 (Next day)
Zero one twenty-fours EDT
Two pairs of eyes were watching a figure in a light blue Hazmat suite that was bending over, removing the contents from a six foot by two foot by one-foot plastic container, and then placing them on a nearby table.
The figure was standing in chamber that was fifteen foot square, which had been erected within the warehouse.
It was made from a steel frame and completely encased in heavy-duty armoured glass.
A single door was the only access to the room, which had a glass tunnel leading from the room to a decontamination facility and then to a pressurised double glass door, that led into the main warehouse area.
Sean McFaul turned to Sydney Carter and said, “How long is it going to take?”
“No more than thirty minutes, tops,” replied Sydney Carter, “is the perimeter secure Sean?”
“Yep; checked it twenty minutes ago, no one is getting near here without us seeing them first.”
“Good,” Carter looked at his watch, Zero one twenty-seven hours.
Both men continued to watch the figure in the Hazmat suite.
In addition in the warehouse was the large dark blue semi eighteen-wheeler that had been used to transport the cargo parked up near the large main doors.
Twenty-five minutes later the figure turned and exited the room and walked along the corridor into the decontamination area.
The high-pressure jets exploded their liquid onto the figure that turned around in the deluge.
The figure then walked away and into another area and striped off down to their underwear.
Sean said, “She’s got a beautiful arse on her!”
Carter replied, “With a body to go with it, but make no mistake Sean, she could kill both of us without a moment’s remorse.”
They both continued staring at the woman in her bra and panties as she entered a secondary shower area both observing how the water enhanced her vital areas through her scant underwear.
“What’s her name Syd?”
“Sun-Yung.”
“What’s that some kind of Chinese name,” replied Sean.
“No,” replied Carter, “she used to be a member of the North Korean 707th Special Mission Battalion her speciality is nuclear armaments, she killed her commanding officer a year ago when he became too friendly with her and she fled from South Korea to Chechnya, that’s about it.”
Five minutes later Sun-Yung was dressed, had exited the containment area, and walked over to the two CIA men.
She stood at five-foot seven inches, had an athletic build and her black hair was cut in a boyish style with a rakish parting to the left side leaving her right ear exposed she was aged twenty-nine.
Carter said, “Is everything in order?”
Sun-Yung replied in a very sexy voice, “Both devices are fully functional; I believe you want them to be placed in a two metal suitcases, so I will need two-hours to prep them for the mission and then it is all yours.”
“That is excellent news; the suitcases measure twenty four inches by sixteen inches by eight inches deep. We thought that the Red Mercury may have been damaged in the crash,” Carter replied.
“Under normal circumstances that may have been the case, however it had been stored in a robust container that was not only heat resistant, but water tight too. The suitcase measurements you have indicated should be adequate for the devices,” replied Sun-Yung.
Carter looked over at the containment area and then back at Sun-Yung, “are you happy with the accommodation we have arranged for you?”
“It is adequate for my needs.”
Carter pulled two objects from his jacket pocket and handed them to Sun-Yung.
“This is a number you can contact me on twenty-four seven and this envelope has ten thousand in American dollars for any expenditure, if you need more then contact me.”
“When will I see you again?” Sun-Yung replied.
“We will contact you next week, until then enjoy your stay, visit some of our culture and see the sites.”
Sun-Yung pocketed the envelope with the money in and quickly looked at the card, memorised the number and handed it back to Carter, “your number is safe up here,” she pointed to her head.
Sean said, “We have one of our men waiting outside for you, to take you to your accommodation.”
With that, Sun-Yung turned and walked away.
“So what’s the game plan now Syd?”
“I need to make a phone call to the Deputy Director and advise him everything is in order.”
“Right I’ll wait for you in the vehicle,” Sean replied.
“Before you do that, make sure the men guarding this facility are under no misinterpretation, that anyone posing the slightest risk to this building must be eliminated swiftly and discreetly, understood?”
“Leave it with me Syd, see you shortly.”
“Ten minutes and I will be with you.”
Carter walked over to a nearby phone whilst Sean walked over to the exit door.
He dialled the deputy director’s home number; the phone on the other end rang for several rings before a man’s voice answered, “Walter Smith here!”
“Sir; its Carter, the package is in order and operational.”
“Is the place secure Carter?”
“Everything is in place and secure sir.”
“Good, I will get back to you when I need too Carter,” Walter Smith hung the phone up and went back to bed.
24
Strayker’s home
Wells road
Bromley, Kent.
Lat = 51 degrees, 24.3 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 3.1 minutes East
Tuesday 12th September 1989. (Same day)
Zero six eleven hours BST
Strayker was in his twenty by five meter indoor swimming pool doing a lazy but powerful crawl stroke; he had just completed fifty lengths when his butler Bentley entered the pool area.
Strayker had not noticed him until he reached the other end of the pool and turned for the return length; he completed the length and stopped.
Bentley came over with a small towel and handed it to the Major, who quickly wiped his face area.
Bentley was first to speak, “sorry to interrupt your morning swim sir, Vince has just called and has asked for you to ring him back at ICIS.”
“Thank you Bentley, I will have a quick shower, you can have my breakfast ready in fifteen minutes.”
“Certainly sir.”
Twenty minutes later Strayker was sitting eating his breakfast, starting with porridge, two rounds of toast with marmalade on, a yogurt, fresh orange juice followed with an Earl Grade tea.
He reached for the phone and dialled the number for ICIS after four rings Vince’s familiar voice answered, “good morning major!”
Strayker replied, “How did you know it was me Vince?”
“Part of the updates I have implemented, that now show caller I.D.”
“Is that for everyone within our group Vince?”
“Yes including those on the Everest committee, all the team leaders and also number 10.”
“So; I presume you have some updates for me Vince?”
“Yes sir, we have identified the man from the CCTV image at the phone booth, and have a tracked the cargo truck to its last known place from the highways traffic cams; however we lost it after that point.”
“Okay Vince shoot with the man’s name?”
“His name is Sydney Carter and he works for the CIA.”
Strayker processed the information for a moment before replying, “What have you been able to find out about him Vince?”
“He is thirty-nine years of age and has been in the ser
vice of the CIA for the past ten years and is a single man, prior to that he was a member of the United States Army 3rd Special Forces group or commonly known as green berets out of Fort Bragg North Carolina. The 3SFGA is theoretically oriented towards all of Sub-Saharan Africa with the exception of the Eastern Horn of Africa.”
“Where was the last sighting of the truck Vince?”
“Last sighting was on route 95 heading south into Richmond Virginia, between routes 295 and 64. We lost it there due to several traffic cams around that area being shut down for maintenance,” replied Vince.
Strayker had a smile to himself and said, “Very interesting that Vince, what would be the chances of the truck arriving at the area where the traffic cams are just so conveniently shut down for maintenance?”
“It seems too much of a coincidence sir.”
“Okay Vince, I want a full Intel package on everything we have, and have several copies ready within the hour. I will have Corporal Edwards my driver come down and pick them up.”
“I am on it now sir.”
Strayker replaced the phone, spent a few moments reflecting on the conversation, and then phoned Downing Street.
25
Cabinet room
10 Downing Street
City of Westminster
London SW1
Lat = 51 degrees, 30.2 minutes North
Long = 0 degrees, 7.7 minutes West
Tuesday 12th September 1989. (Same day)
Eleven fifty-five hours BST
Purchased during the Gladstone era, the large cabinet table dominated the room the boat shape top supported on huge original oak legs.
Twenty-three carved, solid mahogany chairs that also date from the Gladstone era, surrounded the table.
The only picture in the room was a copy of a portrait of Sir Robert Walpole by Jean-Baptiste van Loo hanging over the fireplace.
Painted off-white with large floor to ceiling windows along one of the long walls, the room is light and airy with three brass chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling.
The Prime minister was seated in her designated chair the only one with arms, and was situated midway along one side in front of the marble fireplace, facing the windows.
Several other seats were occupied by the Everest group along with Major Strayker seated to the right of the Prime Minister and Max Storm seated next to Strayker.
The PM along with Everest group and Max were reading from an Intel Package.
The phone call Strayker had made, had been directly to the PM to arrange this meeting, he had then contacted Max and asked him to also attend the meeting.
Strayker had read the Intel pack whilst his driver had driven from his home to the meeting.
He was sitting at the table quietly observing the people around him; he noticed the Prime Minister was the first to put her folder down with Max following a minute later.
Within a couple of minutes, everyone else had placed their folders down on the table and were looking at the PM.
The PM looked at both Pierce Evans and Jonathan Troy, and said, “Firstly; has either of your departments been able to place the KGB agent at the Russian weapon facility and if he took possession of this Red Mercury and put it on the plane?”
Pierce Evans replied, “Yes to both your questions Ma’am, we have a low level informant who works at the WPF near Chapayevsk who works on the gate security. He confirms Ivan Balagula visited the camp on the evening of Thursday 3rd August 1989 and left in a truck loaded with an unmarked container. Our sources also confirm he boarded an Aeroflot flight to London along with the container the next morning and then onto the ill-fated eighteen forty hour’s flight number BA-323. We are unable to confirm the contents of the cargo.” Pierce Evans sat down.
The Prime Minister paused for a moment and then said, “to summarise, it looks like something was taken from the Russian WPF possibly this Red Mercury, The Russian KGB agent and two CIA agents are on the ill-fated flight. In addition, the cargo is salvaged and before our people can get to it, it mysteriously disappears. The Majors Intel pack shows that a CIA agent Sydney Carter was possibly involved with its disappearance along with the Deputy Director of the CIA Walter Smith. Moreover, the truck and cargo are potentially in the Richmond area of Virginia. Thoughts please gentlemen?”
Sir Toby Percival Head of the Royal Air force was the first to speak, “I think that a phone call to the US and Russian Presidents would be in order Ma’am.”
“That is on my agenda Sir Toby after this meeting.”
There was a few moments pause before Admiral Sir Robert Fox said, “I cannot see that we can or should have any further involvement with this matter at present, Ma’am!”
Pierce Evans responded with, “I have to agree with Sir Robert Ma’am, for all intense and purpose; if the Red Mercury exists then it is on American soil which takes it out of or remit.”
The Prime Minister turned and looked at Strayker and Max and said, “Your thoughts please Major?”
“Ma’am, as Sir Toby has stated, we can present the Intel we have gathered to the two Presidents and hopefully they will take the necessary action.”
“Okay gentlemen; I will make the necessary phone calls, thank you for your time this morning.”
Ten minutes later the Prime Minister was talking to the US President Bob Dulles the time difference being five hours behind London, at zero seven forty hours EDT.
“Thank you for taking my call Mr President.”
“Always a pleasure madam Prime Minister, I presume you have something important to discuss?”
“How much do you know about Red Mercury?”
The President thought for a moment and replied, “I believe it is something the Russians have been playing with to produce a more efficient nuclear device, although it is all hypothetical, why do you ask?”
The Prime Minister spent a few minutes sharing the Intel from the Intel package with the President, when she finished there was a long pause at the other end.
“I should naturally respond if anyone else told me this Ma’am with, is this a joke? However, the fact you have phoned me and presented some reliable Intel means I should take this seriously. How good is the Intel on Walter Smith?”
“We can prove the presence of the CIA agent Sydney Carter at the docks when the cargo was taken and the fact he phoned Walter Smith from the docks. Also the evidence is good for the last known location of the truck.”
“Have you spoken with the Russian President Ma’am?”
“That will be my next call Mr President.”
“Can you send me the Intel package you have put together for my eyes only?”
“I will have it couriered directly to you by MI6.”
“That will be good, as soon as you have a name of the MI6 agent advise me and I will ensure he is collected from the airport and has direct access to me upon his arrival and thank you for the call Madam Prime Minister.”
“I hope everything gets resolved for you Mr President?”
The Prime Minister replaced the phone and looked at her watch, zero-twelve hours and fifty-six minutes.
She did a quick time zone calculation for Moscow, three hours ahead of London time, now fifteen fifty-six hours MSK Moscow time.
The Russian President answered the incoming phone call from the Prime Minister after a few moments of pleasantries the PM gave the President the outline from the Intel pack, omitting the information regarding the possible CIA involvement.
The President replied with, “Madam Prime Minister I have heard of our research into this Red Mercury, however without some further phone calls by me I cannot comment on its existence.”
“Well Mr President, If this Red Mercury exists then it looks like it has found its way onto American soil. That is why I have given you the Intel, hopeful
ly it will help you?”
“I thank you Madam Prime Minister, I will certainly look into it and this KGB agent Ivan Balagula, again thank you for your candour.”
They both terminated the call.
26
Roosevelt Room
West Wing
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, D.C.
Lat = 38 degrees, 53.4 minutes North
Long = 77 degrees, 0.5 minutes West
Wednesday 13th September 1989. (Next day)
Ten thirty six hours EDT
Chuck Morris the director of the CIA had received the phone call from the President seventy minutes ago and had come directly to the capital.
He was sitting in the Roosevelt room reading the Intel Package that had arrived from London.
The Roosevelt Room is a meeting room in the West Wing of the White House on the first floor, the official home and principal workplace of the President of the United States. Located almost in the centre of the West Wing, and near the Oval Office.
It was back in 1969 that President Nixon gave the room its present name, the Roosevelt Room, to honour Theodore Roosevelt who first built the West Wing and Franklin Delano Roosevelt who expanded it.
These two arguably contributed more than any other presidents to the design and construction of the West Wing.
The east wall of the room is a half circle, with a centred fireplace and doors on either side.
Cast bronze bas-relief plaques with profile portraits of Theodore Roosevelt and of FDR hung on the south wall.
The room has no windows and is lit by a false skylight. A large conference table seating a maximum of 16 is located in the centre. The room is painted a buff colour with white trim.
The furniture is mostly twentieth century reproductions of Chippendale and Queen Anne Style furniture.
The President had already perused the Intel package and was sat down drinking a coffee as his Director of CIA examined the Intel.
Chuck Morris was aged sixty-one a tall slim man at six-foot two inches, with a full head of grey hair in a sweptback style and a close cropped goatee style beard.
Red Mercury Page 10