On returning to the wheelhouse, Jago tuned his radio to Channel 10, a scrambled secure channel.
"Hello zero, this is Alpha-2 one calling, do you read me? Over."
"Hello Alpha-2 one, this is zero reading you loud and clear. You're a little late this morning, aren't you?"
"Alpha-2 one, yes, I'm afraid I had to do some checking after a little incident. I'm sending you a full sit rep on the system. Over."
"This is zero, I'm sorry to hear that. Is all well? Over.”
"Alpha-2 one, I'm fine, I have one visitor staying with me at base. Over."
"This is zero, that sounds interesting! Can't wait to read your sit rep. Over."
"Alpha-2 one, I'll send it as soon as I get chance. I'm out and heading for zone three. Over."
"This is zero, zone three received, Roger that. Over and out."
After an hour and a half at sea following the coastline, Jago scanned his radar and sonar for shoals of fish and decided to lower his anchor. He then set to casting his nets and laying out his buoy flag markers. Anyone around for miles could clearly see what he was doing, and how he was doing it. It was his well-rehearsed routine and had been for the last eleven months. As soon as everything was set for the fishing, Jago hauled anchor and moved his position farther along the coast. He arrived at a predetermined area and went below. This is where he started his real work.
Jago monitored radio frequencies of ships in the area to keep abreast of what was happening, and he took samples of the water at varying depths from within the boat. His brief this week was to undertake the screening of microbeads in his designated area. He would collate water samples and place these in a waterborne drone, ready for delivery to the shoreline where secure couriers would be lying in wait to transit them to the laboratories. This had become necessary because previous efforts to study the marine life and waters in the area had become hazardous, with one scientist losing his life in a supposed accident, and another who had been left in a vegetative state. Some assistants in the local area had been warned off working with the scientists and a laboratory had been burnt to the ground. Something was amiss and it was Jago’s job to find out what that was.
Scientists would then isolate, screen and test for any microbeads and microplastics in the environmental samples. This would allow for the identification of the plastic or polymer materials used, and hopefully the area of insertion into the sea. The theory is that plastic dumped into the sea develops a signature. That signature builds up on the plastic surface over time as a microorganism with a specific makeup. In addition, plastics may become weathered by ultraviolet light. It is hoped that this makeup and other factors may reveal the location of the dumping.
Chapter 4 - Three’s a Crowd
Jago went through the motions of the day and returned to collect his nets. As he approached the area in the twilight, he caught sight of an object in the water on his broadband radar up ahead. It was a small craft and stationary, yet close to his nets. He tagged it as the radar swept the area again. It remained still. It was an alarming signal, and it appeared to be two miles to his front. He scanned the area through his powerful binoculars and concluded that it must be underwater.
As a precaution, he called it in on the radio. “Hello zero, this is Alpha-2 one. Over.”
“Go ahead Alpha-2 one. Over.”
“Alpha-2 one, I have a possible X-ray at my twelve. Over. Am initiating defence protocols. Over.”
“Roger that Alpha-2 one. We’ll keep the channel clear until we hear from you. Do you need assistance? Over.”
“Negative, assistance not required at this time. Over. I’m going to initiate the underwater cams, and you should be able to pick them up on stream. I’ve also linked up the cabin cam for you. Over.”
“Roger, we’ll await your call. Over and out.”
Jago remained on a course not to alert any potential threat. He deployed his live streaming, underwater camera forward and aft, and the cabin cam which slowly rotated giving a 360-degree perspective. He then tested the images on his monitor. They were all good. Meanwhile, he undertook a drill that he’d practised a thousand times. He went to work removing the panels from the wheelhouse doors and the wall panels above and to the side. From the purpose-built shelves and racks, he gathered together half a dozen Anti-Swimmer Grenades (ASGs), his HK HK-MP5SD, thigh holster and four loaded mags. He also pulled a Benelli M3 shotgun with folding stock and positioned that in a convenient scabbard fixed at an easy-to-reach angle to the side of his control panel. Finally, he donned a single optic night vision goggle in case the threat carried on into a low light environment. He was ready, and the radar tag displayed the signature of a small craft on the move, slow, but moving towards him.
As he neared, he slowed to five knots. It was difficult to see anything on the underwater cams due to low light, but then there was a flicker of light. It had to be artificial; it had to be attached to some kind of propulsion device. Jago just needed to know if it supported one or two persons. He was taking no chances and switched his engine to a higher speed and veered off to the right of the craft. As he passed the crafts position, he caught sight of the illumination reflecting below the surface on his starboard side. It was surfacing and a dark figure emerged. Shots were fired from two different directions towards Jago who was now turning into his port side to meet his attackers head on. He boosted his speed as he approached the first attacker who must have been supporting himself in the water. Jago casually tossed in an ASG and then changed course for the propulsion craft whose rider was still engaging Jago’s boat. He thought to himself that it would be better to keep one of them alive if possible to gather more intelligence, but he would have to see how things turned out. If the attacker was insistent on maintaining an attacking posture, Jago wasn’t one to back down. He steered his boat at twenty-five degrees towards his target. This exposed his broadside but also left the angle more acute and allowed for error by the attacker in the water. It also allowed Jago to take up a firing position, while being higher than the attacker and creating some turbulence for them. He returned fire, short bursts at first, and then deliberate shots. The attacking fire halted, and cautiously Jago circled the craft. The attacker was face down but that didn’t mean anything with breathing apparatus. He slowed the boat, grabbed his shotgun, and tentatively approached the craft. As he neared, the attacker’s head rose out of the water, and Jago watched him raise his arms and a weapon. Jago blasted at short range with the shotgun, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get any human intelligence this time. Jago idled the engine and threw a grappling hook onto the craft and caught the lifeless, bloody body with the hook. He hauled it closely in. Jago secured it to his boat, and he set the engine to slow, steering it towards the second attacker. He caught sight of the motionless body floating about hundred metres to his port side and made course to intercept it. Approaching with caution, he kept his shotgun at the ready. He came to halt and called out to the body. He received no response. Using the grappling hook once again, he heaved the body alongside. There was no resistance, no life. Jago was no stranger to bloodied corpses, especially those that he had despatched himself. He slipped into the water, looking for clues on the bodies as to their identities. Jago quickly appraised that they were wearing standard wetsuits and using common aqualungs. They wore no watches or jewellery, and he couldn’t locate a radio. The attacker on the propulsion craft still had his weapon attached to his wrist. Interestingly, it was a Kalashnikov, ADS amphibious assault rifle. He’d never seen a real one, only pictures online and in photographs during a briefing the year before. The attackers both wore a sidearm pistol, and both were choosing an HK P11 underwater pistol. He thought to himself that is was an interesting choice of weaponry, one that indicated a well-trained fighting force. But using conventional suits and gear? Were they trying to appear conventional while discreetly concealing their highly powered weaponry? That may have been the case. Jago noted the black dry bag rolled up and attached to the tail of the tw
o-man craft. He lifted a hatch by the motor of the propulsion craft and noticed a small, flashing tracking device. He busied himself in securing the bodies to the craft and retaining the weapons. He then rigged the craft to propel itself out to sea with the bodies in tow.
Once aboard his boat, Jago contacted Abi.
“Hello zero, this is Alpha-2 one sitrep. Over.”
“Go ahead Alpha-2 one. Over.”
“Alpha-2 one, threat terminated. Over. There’s a tracking beacon attached to the craft that’s heading out southwest of my location. Are you able to identify the tracing source? Over.”
“Yes, I’ll get the technician onto that immediately. Over and out.”
Jago hauled in the nets while thinking to himself that now his cover was blown, he wouldn’t be using them again. Meticulous as ever, he stowed the nets away and then set sail, hugging the coastline along the way. In the mid-afternoon sun, Jago sailed with the sun to his back. Knowing that he would be a sitting target if he took his boat back to harbour, he decided to set anchor around the headland in a quiet cove.
Jago gathered some equipment into a dry bag before sliding into the water on the seaward side of the boat. He put an underwater breathing apparatus into his mouth and submerged safely in the knowledge that, in a few minutes, he would be ashore.
Once on dry land, Jago quickly changed, put on his holster and comms rig and established communication with Abi in the control room. He climbed the steep path to the top of the cliff where he paused, scanning the area for anything new, anything out of the ordinary. He’d been there to recce a few times and knew the terrain well. The headland was a popular area with tourists, but not generally at that time of year. It seemed clear, and he continued crossing a single-track tarmac road. Jago strided out over the rough ground, aiming for a point just under the brow of the fern-covered hill. All he could hear were gulls screeching as they glided in the sea breeze behind him. Jago arrived at an old shed, possibly once used by local shepherds for cover in inclement weather. It was padlocked, and he produced a key to unlock it. Stepping inside, he walked over to his waiting Stealth Hawk motorcycle which was all prepped and ready to go. He connected his helmet headset and allocated his HK-MP5SD and mags to a fixed holster down to his right side. He was wearing his Sig Sauer pistol in a shoulder holster and reached into the pannier. He donned a tactical vest to wear under his jacket, along with a shoulder sheath for his tactical knife.
After taking the bike outside, he locked the shed. Not wanting to advertise his arrival, he selected the electric mode for silent riding before heading back to the port.
On the way back past the headland, Jago spotted a single man with a rocket launcher positioned well enough on the bluff to have taken him and his boat out. He was lying in wait in the rough on the edge of the cliff. Jago could have stopped to deal with him but thought that it might have alerted others. He told Abi of the man’s location, and she reported that she would send a discrete support team to deal with the man. At least he’d be taken out of action.
Jago rode the winding coast road to the port. Meanwhile, Abi communicated with Kim via intercom in the harbour building.
“Hello Kim, this is Abi.”
Kim starts as the voice emanates from the walls.
“Err … hello? Where are you?”
“I’m not in your location. Jago asked me to contact you. He did tell you, didn’t he?”
“Err, yes he did, but I guess I was expecting a call or something over the radio, that’s all.”
“Okay, I see. I’m sorry if I startled you. Now, Kim, do you know how to use a gun?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve never had cause to.”
“Okay, not to worry. Now listen carefully. Go to the room with the darkened window on the left, the one opposite the bathroom. I´ll open it from here.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes, I can do that … it’s open now, and you can go in.”
Kim entered the room and was bewildered by the array of weaponry in the racks on the walls, electronic equipment, and what seemed to be half a dozen rucksacks full of stuff hung on the wall.
“Open the far door on the right; it’s a wardrobe. There are some black all-in-one suits of different sizes. Choose one and put it on.” Kim did as instructed and went to the bathroom to change, thinking that someone was watching her on camera.
“Don’t worry about that. There’s only me here and we haven’t got time.”
Once in the figure-hugging suit, Abi asks, “Do you know how to fire a gun? In the third drawer down on the left in the middle there is a knife in a sheath holster — grab that. And stash it with your things.
“There’s also a small radio; it’s black with a black clip. Switch it on to Channel 3 and place the earpiece in your ear. There’s a collar microphone there too. Clip that on, and we’ll go through a quick test.”
Within a few minutes, Abi had the young woman up and running on the radio.
“Jago will be with you soon, in about ten minutes to be precise. Go to the main door to the port and stay inside until I tell you otherwise. Just to the right of the door, there’s a couple of crash helmets. You’ll need to try one of those on for size.”
Kim picked up a crash helmet and tried it on. It fitted, and she held it in her hand, waiting in the silence of the night.
Jago announced, “Get ready Kim, I’m just approaching. On the count of three exit the door, ready, one … two … three!”
Kim put the helmet on and dashed for the motorcycle, where Jago indicated that she should ride pillion. “Hold tight, we're going up on the quay wall! Plug this headphone cable into your helmet on the left side, where you’ll find a socket.”
Jago steered the motorcycle up the deep, rough steps and then over the stone harbour wall in the darkness. They’d ridden three hundred metres when two men appeared ahead of them on the quayside. They were firing at Jago and Kim, and the bullets were getting close. They rode off the end of the wall and onto the top of a shipping container where Jago braked violently and turned the bike to his left. He brought his HK around to return fire, quickly aiming, and one of the men fell to the ground. The other shooter took cover as Jago set off over the row of containers.
They were now under the bright port lights and the lights of the cranes, travelling at speed. Kim was gripping Jago tightly. She was not used to being shot at, nor was she used to riding pillion, and certainly not at height. Then, just as it seemed that they were going to run out of containers, Jago steered the bike up and over the port’s exterior wall. They landed heavily on the top of a bus shelter, moving forwards onto the roofs of two parked cars, onto the road and away.
Chapter 5 - Too Many Firsts
“We need to go somewhere safe. But first I need to visit your flat to pick up some of your things for you.”
“But they know where I live. Those men will be waiting for us.”
“Don’t worry; I won’t be going in the front door.”
They passed Kim’s street and noticed a black saloon car parked over the road from her house.
Kim sounded in Jago’s ear, “They’re already there outside of my flat.”
“Don’t worry; I won’t be long. I’ll grab some clothing, toiletries and anything that I can. Do you have a passport?”
“Yes, it’s in my underwear drawer with my other important documents.”
They parked the motorcycle in front of the house behind Kim’s flat.
“Wait here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, walk off towards the east side of town.”
Kim firmly planted her feet on the kerb side and perched her bottom on the bike’s seat as she watched Jago disappear up the path of the house and into the darkness behind it. The night air amplified the sound of sporadic traffic. And Kim waited, alert and utterly aware of her surroundings. She held onto the hilt of the knife that Abi had suggested, ready for any eventuality; she was determined not to be taken so easily again.
***
Having peered ov
er to recce the area, Jago casually scaled the wooden fencing at the rear of the property. He ducked down on bended knee and listened. There were no immediate sounds to concern him. He was at the back of a Victorian house that had been converted into flats and bedsits. It had a fire escape to the east side of the property, and this was Jago’s intended point of entry. He heaved himself up onto the hanging rungs and rapidly arrived on the first floor. The large sash window was easy to slide open, and before he knew it, he was on the landing outside Kim’s flat. He slipped the key into the lock and slowly turned it just as a man appeared from the stairway. Jago casually entered Kim’s apartment as if it were his and the man called out.
“Hey, you, stop there!”
Jago closed the door behind him, ignoring the call. No sooner had he started to scout around the small flat than he heard banging at the door.
“OPEN UP, WE WANT TO TALK WITH YOU.”
Jago ignored the calls and gathered up Kim’s possessions and stuffed them into a bag. The banging continued and Jago looked out to the window. There was another man below looking upwards. He was armed with a pistol. Jago quietly approached the door, set the bag beside it and waited until the banging started again. After the first couple of bangs, he quickly opened the door, surprising the stockily built man and the slim man to his right. Jago grabbed the first man and pulled him in and to the floor, hitting him on the back of the neck on the way down. The second man stepped forward towards Jago who grabbed the man and, with his forward momentum, redirected him towards the floor on top of his colleague. Jago grabbed his abundant hair, lifted his head back and smashed it into the back of the man on the ground. He then punched the man four times in the kidney area before stepping behind both of them. The man on top was out of the fight, groaning and unable to rise to his feet, so Jago kicked the liveliest of the two between the legs, resulting in a lack of movement and a stifled cry of pain. Jago reached over and calmly retrieved the bag. He traced his steps onto the fire escape and lowered himself quietly. He moved to the corner of the building, dropped himself to the ground and peered around the corner. The armed man was still looking up to Kim’s flat. Jago picked up a couple of small stones and tossed them a few metres in front of him. The man spun around and cautiously followed the noise. He’d made three steps when Jago launched himself at him, disarmed him and rendered him unconscious. He didn’t know what or who had hit him.
The Plastic Paradigm Page 3