Snow! The Series [Books 1-4]

by Clifford, Ryan

  ***

  Brady departed for Guernsey at 7.35am, having said his goodbyes to Chloe. She was more than mildly annoyed that he was leaving Brussels – and for so long.

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to spend more time with mother,’ she threatened.

  ‘It's up to you, Clo, I’ll not stop you seeing her,’ replied Brady more casually than he felt.

  Patric returned to driving Ann Fletcher to and from UKRA, and escorting Carol Leslie around Brussels. Most people just assumed that she was Dame Ann, and treated her as such. Of course, only a very small circle of people had actually met Ann, so this ‘double’ was able to mimic her well enough to fool most of the hoi-polloi. Patric drove Carol up to the ‘Claret Jug’ that evening, and had some trouble finding the turn off. He missed it on the first pass and had to retrace his route until a very small and unobtrusive signpost indicated the road – or rather track – up to the restaurant. The main road passing the track was busy, with bus stops and roundabouts at regular intervals, but the access to the track was well hidden. Patric noted that there was a small row of shops about fifty metres before the exit, coming from Brussels, so he made a mental note to look out for those on his next visit. It was a single track road with passing places at two hundred metre intervals. The restaurant had its own exclusive car park about three kilometres up a very winding route, with one particularly dodgy hairpin bend half way up, and Patric had to slow right down. Ms Leslie (Dame Ann) was greeted by the staff as an old friend and dined in splendour, dressed in expensive haut-couture and diamonds. Nobody doubted for a moment that she was Dame Ann, and Patric was able to report as much the following morning.

  Chloe continued to shadow her mother and PA Eleanor Fisher. Whenever she was left alone, she nosed about in both offices, but as yet had found nothing of interest. All she could report was that Dame Susan Macintyre was indeed a ‘very’ close friend.

  Ross Bryant was visited by an MI6 operative very early on the Friday morning and they arranged for their agent, Freddy Almond, to be sent aboard the Pretoria Queen later in the day. He was to report by phone or radio directly to the MI6 desk in the UKRA building on a daily basis at 1800 hours. It would be a coded call and he would confirm – or otherwise – that all was well. ‘Alpha’ for ops normal, and ‘Zulu’ for an issue that needed immediate back-up.

  Freddy was on board by midday, flown in by helicopter directly to the Pretoria. The Captain wasn’t at all happy with his unannounced and unauthorised arrival, but welcomed him politely, waiting until he had contacted his owner before taking precipitate action. The Captain was fully briefed on the deception in progress and was being rewarded handsomely – as was his crew – most receiving a years’ salary for two months work. He didn’t want to alert the UKRA by acting unreasonably – so took advice from Mr Koopman in Cape Town. He received explicit instructions, which he followed to the letter.

  Koopman had contacted Dame Ann on their private mobile number and asked for a full briefing regarding Mr Almond.

  In turn, Ann immediately contacted Ross Bryant. She was not a happy bunny, as Bryant had installed Almond without consulting her. However, she could not afford to alert him by objecting – as it was indeed a very sensible precaution to take – and one that should have been put in place well before this juncture.

  ‘Well done, Ross, we should have put our own man aboard a long time ago. Full briefing, please?’

  Ross was on alert as soon as Dame Ann congratulated him.

  ‘The man is Freddy Almond, an MI6 agent, who has strict orders to monitor the on-board procedures.’

  Ann almost fell off her chair with disbelief, but kept calm.

  Ross went on to describe the exact orders Almond had been given.

  ‘That's good, Ross. Just keep me in the picture in the future. I would have preferred our own man to have been on board. How did MI6 get involved?’

  ‘They came to see me yesterday and couldn’t understand why we didn’t have a man on the Pretoria. They'd drawn up a plan, so I went along with it. Is there a problem, ma'am?’

  Ann bit her tongue.

  ‘No, not at all, Ross. It's just that I'm always particularly cautious where MI6 are concerned. Spooks are always too bloody devious for their own good. Just keep an eye on them please, Lieutenant. Don’t give them any more than they need to know.’

  ‘Yes, ma'am.’ Ross knew that Ann had the ‘wind up’ over this development, and was glad that MI6 had made their move. He’d let them know of her reaction.

  Meanwhile, Ann phoned Koopman and related Almond’s orders word for word. In turn, Koopman contacted the Captain of the Pretoria and delivered new instructions, which were implemented that evening.

  In reality, Ann was furious, and more than mildly alarmed with this move by MI6. Clearly, they were monitoring Op Auric very closely and she would have to be doubly on her guard. Maybe it was time to feed them some disinformation.

  Chloe had overheard some of her mother’s conversations as she flitted in and out of the office, and later that evening conveyed the fact concerning her displeasure to Patric when he reported to the office to take them back to the apartment.

  ***

  It was at the flat, sharing supper with Suzi, when Ann decided to disclose the more delicate parts of the plan.

  ‘Suzi, it's time for me to be completely candid with you. You know that I'm planning a getaway after this gold has been transferred, but you need to know some of the details.

  That pathetic puppy dog, Richard Castle is intimately involved – well he thinks he is. When the gold is in the process of being transferred, I am going to divert eight bonded crates to Brussels for public inspection and some publicity. Well, that's what I'm telling the bloody military. A Chinook will carry the eight boxes with forty bars of gold – or half a ton - in each to an airfield just outside the city.’

  Suzi asked an important and highly relevant question:

  ‘Eight crates – three hundred and twenty bars, how much is that Ann?’

  Ann drew breath and tried to remember the figures, which Castle had repeated so often.

  ‘If I remember correctly, it goes something like this. One bar of gold weighs twenty-eight pounds or 448 ounces. Multiply that by the current price of gold - US$2250 – and we deduce that one bar of gold is worth around US$1 million! One crate therefore is US$40 million. The plan, or so Castle believes, is that we get two crates each – you, me, Chloe and him. It’ll only be worth half that when he fences his share. Unfortunately for Castle, he won't live to see a penny of it.’

  Suzi whistled in awe.

  ‘So, you plan to double-cross Castle, and we get the US$320 million between us. About US$160 million when we fence it?’

  Ann continued, but still neglected to tell Suzi the whole truth:

  ‘Don’t worry about selling the gold, Suzi. I've dealt with that aspect. And, we share any profit three ways. It's you, me and Chloe from here on in.’

  ‘Does she know yet, Ann? And won't the UKRA miss eight crates of gold?’

  Ann had the answers, as always.

  ‘That's the beauty of using that wanker, Castle. God, he thinks he's so clever – tiny dick you know…and he can't get it up most of the time – the things I have to do – you wouldn't believe it!

  Anyway, he will be coordinating with the RAF and arranging for the drop-off. When the scam is discovered, he’ll carry the can. It's perfect. I’ll deny all knowledge. That's if they notice anything at all!’

  Suzi giggled as Ann continued with the revelations:

  ‘As for Chloe, I’ll be talking to her very soon. I know we have many bridges to rebuild, but when I tell her about the life she could lead and the limitless wealth she will have at her disposal – I'm convinced that her head will turn – she's a Fletcher after all is said and done,’ she announced confidently.

  Suzi was concerned about Castle’s demise and Ann hadn’t yet explained about this Carol Leslie character:

  ‘Ann, what's going to happen to Castle
, and who the fuck is Carol Leslie?’

  ‘I’ll let you know about Castle and his untimely end nearer the time. Just prepare yourself – you’ll be dealing with him personally. Let's say it's your ‘initiation’ and ‘entrance fee’ into the party. It's a risky move, but I've put all the arrangements into place. It's just a matter of backbone when the time comes – and if I know you, it'll be a piece of cake.’

  ‘Ann, you’ve got to let me in sometime. Stop bloody holding back!’

  Ann tried to calm Suzi:

  ‘I'm not quite ready yet, Suzi, but rest assured I won't drop you in it. Not now. I told you just now that we are in this together, and I meant it. I won't let you down, darling.’

  Suzi wasn’t convinced.

  ‘Ann, who the hell is Carol Leslie?’

  Ann still wouldn't commit fully:

  ‘She's our insurance policy Suzi. In fact, you can meet her. I’ll arrange for you to go to dinner with her next weekend. You, Carol, Patric and his bloody wife. Next Friday at 7pm. He’ll pick you up from the apartment.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ conceded Suzi - unconvinced.

  ‘Look, Suzi, this Op Auric is exceptionally complex. Every detail has to be controlled very carefully. In addition, I've got to run the bloody country – and that's a joke – there is no fucking country. It's gone down the pan and quite understandably the rats are deserting the sinking ship – and I plan to be number one rat – not the heroic fucking captain standing on the bridge as she inevitably goes under.’

  ‘Ann!’ exclaimed Suzi. Even for Ann that was a bit over the top!

  ‘Well, it's a farce. Fifty million dead. Another ten million displaced or resettled in shitty countries around the world, and the UK a waste-ground of sludge and rotting corpses. There's absolutely no hope.’

  ‘Is it really that bad?’

  ‘You can bet your share of US$320 million on it!

  ***

  Brady arrived in Guernsey at lunchtime on the Friday, and immediately immersed himself in the job at hand.

  He went straight to the Chief of Police and introduced himself, producing his letter of authority. He was assured of the fullest co-operation from his officers, who would generally take a back seat, as he understood that an army detachment had already arrived.

  After Patric arranged accommodation at an airport hotel, less than five minutes driving time from the bonded store, he sought out the officer i/c the detachment of infantry detailed to guard the gold. Lt Privett was personable and professional. The soldiers were camped out on the airfield in tents with their own latrines, cookhouse and recreational facilities. He had organised a guard rota that was already in operation. The guards were already comprehensively briefed and heavily armed. Brady ensured that Privett understood, in no uncertain terms, that no risks were to be taken. Shoot to kill was the order of the day. Protection of the gold was paramount.

  Next on his list was the security firm given the responsibility of unloading and physically storing the boxes of gold. They would also share the guarding duties, and fell under the direct control of Lt Privett.

  He then approached Air Traffic Control and the airfield management team to set up liaison. He wanted to know, by radio message, every time a loaded Chinook was inbound. He fully intended to be ever present when crates were unloaded into bonded store. He would count them all in and he would count them all out!

  When he retired that evening, he read through the file presented to him by the local investigative enterprise which had been researching and vetting the employees of the security firm. Each member of staff had been followed, interviewed and thoroughly checked out. Only two were remotely suspicious – but since he was in the ‘no-risk’ business, he had them replaced by solid reserves. He would make it his business to get to know every member of the team – military and civilian. He needed to know their faces – the best security was facial recognition – and if a stranger suddenly appeared he wanted to be aware immediately.

  By Saturday evening, he felt that the Guernsey side of the operation was ready, and so he contacted Ross to confirm the situation.

  All he had to do now was wait.

  ***

  Ross Bryant had spent Friday in France.

  The five Chinooks and ten full crews had deployed to the French Air Force airfield with a support team of engineers and refuelling facilities. The French had set up accommodation and feeding facilities for them, and the trained up SAS/SBS diving teams, who had been on the base since Wednesday.

  Ross went through the full operation order, and the officers in charge explained in detail how they would complete the task.

  By Friday evening, Ross was satisfied and retired to a local hotel, returning the following morning to catch the first flight out at 0600 hours.

  Operation Auric was a go.

  Or, to be more correct, Operation Auric was a go after he had reported to Dame Ann that everything was in place.

  It was another piece of the jigsaw in position.

  Day 42

  Saturday 25th January - 0700

  Bank of England, London

  The first Chinook carrying the diving teams landed on the helipad erected on the roof of the Bank of England in half-light and overcast weather conditions at 0700 hours local time.

  Engineers and support teams were already in place, and the two officers i/c went down to the dive-off point on the ground floor to re-inspect the conditions.

  They had visited twice before, with divers, to check out the environment and had been happy enough with the set up.

  Two huge-diameter pipes fed into the water and attached to pumps run by petrol generators were attempting to reduce the water level. Although it was not raining outside, the water level above the vaults never seemed to recede. However much water was pumped out didn’t seem to make any difference.

  It was eleven metres straight down to the vault floor and the entrance to the gold store. All had been prepared – a handrail had been set up to provide easy navigation and access through the inner doors, which had been dispensed with.

  A team had been set up to move the gold up the lift shaft and into the waiting helicopter. A strict limit of thirty half-ton crates with forty bars on each pallet had been insisted on by the RAF detachment commander. Even though they could take more, he didn’t want to risk an overload, and thus increase the potential for ditching into the sea en-route!

  Manpower was not an issue. There were plenty of men to ‘hump and dump’ and a crane had been set up to lift the pallets aboard each aircraft.

  All they needed to do now was to deploy the divers and get the operation underway.

  The divemaster supervised the rotas meticulously. It was vital that divers did not remain below too long, or over exert themselves. It had been decided that thirty-minute shifts were to be employed, with both the two SAS and SBS teams rotating on the hour and half hour.

  The divers had a designated changing room for storing the gear, and a team of four men were required to complete the human chain from vault to surface. That meant thirty minutes on and sixty minutes off – plenty of time to recover and rest.

  It would be exhausting work, passing twenty-eight pound gold bars from man to man, and the final diver would be hauled up by electric pulley operated on the surface. By the time he had dumped the bar on the platform above and sunk back down again, another bar should be waiting.

  It was estimated that one bar should take around one minute to liberate – or sixty per hour. Therefore, in theory, with the two teams operating in parallel, it should take ten hours to fill a Chinook with the thirty pallet maximum, or with twelve hundred bars.

  The first team descended and took their positions at 0800, but after orientation and positioning issues, it wasn’t until 0830 that the first tug on the rope came from man four. He was hauled to the surface by the electric pulley and plonked the bar heavily onto the floor.

  A great cheer rang out as the gold bar was placed carefully on the pallet, and the loaders suddenly real
ised just how heavy twenty-eight pounds actually was.

  It went slowly at first and the first four shifts averaged around fifteen bars per hour. The divemaster compensated and adjusted the shift time to forty minutes, submerging the oncoming team ten minutes before their counterparts exited the water. He calculated that this shouldn’t harm the divers too much.

  Consequently, the gold bar extraction rate crept up to twenty and eventually peaked at twenty-eight bars per hour. As a result, the first thirty crate target was reduced to twenty four on the first night.

  Ross wanted to report to Ann that Op Auric appeared to be a success, and authorised a Chinook take-off at 2000 hours for the Pretoria Queen.

  Ann Fletcher would be pleased – or she bloody well should be.

  Day 42

  Saturday 25th January – 1800

  MV Pretoria Queen – English Channel

  MI6 observer Freddy Almond stepped onto the Pretoria Queen at lunchtime and had been treated cautiously, yet respectfully.

  The Captain had made enquiries with Koopman as to any action to be taken, and had specific orders from the owner as to how to proceed.

  Almond had been given lunch and an inspection tour of the facilities on board. He was later shown to his cabin and the Captain chatted cheerfully, putting the MI6 agent at his ease, who had little to suspect of this crew and who seemed to be going about their daily chores with enthusiasm.

  At 5:45pm, Almond asked if he could use the ships radio to make his nightly radio call. His mobile phone had no signal, so he could only check-in with Brussels by using the ships UHF receiver.

  The Captain would be delighted to accompany him to the radio room, where at six o’clock precisely, Almond selected the frequency of 256.9 MHz and called his controller.

  ‘Brussels zero-one, this is Papa Quebec, do you read?’

  An answer bounced back immediately.

  ‘Papa Quebec, pass your message.’

  ‘Papa Quebec – Alpha, out.’

  ‘Roger, Papa Quebec, Alpha copied. Out’

  The Captain smiled easily as he queried the code:

  ‘That was easy Mr Almond. But, it all seems a bit secretive?’