Scion

by Murray Mcdonald

“We’ve lost the target.”

  “What do you mean you’ve lost the target?” spat out Todd. “I put my ass on the line giving you the information I gave you yesterday, never mind losing a few of my staff.”

  “The captain of our plane called. Two immigration officials boarded and blew our operatives away and then took the girl.”

  “Was our target with them?”

  “No, they were identical twins and he isn’t a twin.”

  “What did the captain do?” asked Todd.

  “He turned his plane around and got the fuck out of there, dumping the bodies over the sea.”

  “Shit, have you spoken to Sam?”

  “No, I’m hoping you can help us get a lead on them before I call him.”

  “You have access to everything I have. Is there nothing from NSA?”

  “Nothing. But there is one thing.”

  “What?” blurted Todd.

  “The trip to meet the Prime Minister. We went over the tapes, it seems he was meeting someone we know.”

  “Who?” interrupted Todd impatiently.

  “George Cunningham, your new counterpart in the UK.”

  Todd smiled. “I’ll give him a call, right away!”

  Chapter 35

  As Scott boarded the minibus, the first thing that struck him was that the woman was like no Rosie he had ever met. She was stunning. His eyes were transfixed on the young woman and for the first time in his life, he was lost for words. The twins, however, had different concerns. They were in the process of speeding away from killing four men on the runway of an international airport, dressed in stolen uniforms and driving a stolen van. Something they felt sure would not be rewarded. .

  As they streaked across the concourse, they could see the real immigration officer on his way to the Citation X. Kirk put his foot down harder on the accelerator. Kyle, his twin brother kept staring back towards the small jet and much to his relief watched the doors being shut and the plane start to move. The immigration officer came to a stop where the plane had sat only seconds earlier. It seemed the pilot was as keen to avoid the issue of the killings as the twins were.

  Ashley was still trying to work out what the hell was happening as the minibus came to a screeching stop next to a helicopter. Without any preamble, Ashley was herded onto the helicopter and within two minutes, the Malaysian Army was short of one Augusta Westland A109 light observation helicopter.

  With the twins taking the controls, Scott and Ashley sat in the back of the helicopter and finally had the chance to talk.

  “So who are those guys?” asked Ashley pointing forward.

  “Colleagues of mine, Kirk and Kyle,” answered Scott awkwardly. He didn’t really know what to say. She knew who he was, he just didn’t know how to ask.

  “My name’s not really Rosie, you know, it’s Ashley,” blurted out Ashley, feeling the need to dispel the myth that was Rosie.

  Scott looked at Ashley and smiled. He liked the name Ashley.

  “Anyway, I’m sure you want to know more about you than about me,” she added, blushing. She couldn’t believe how nervous he made her feel. The likeness with his father was uncanny. She couldn’t remember much about him other than his strong handsome features and even then Scott seemed to have accentuated those features.

  “No, that can wait. Tell me about you just now. I’d rather wait until we get home before you tell me,” replied Scott. He was relaxing in her company and wanted it to remain that way. He loved listening to her talk, and watching her. She really was quite beautiful.

  Ashley nodded and started with her full name, although quickly pointed out that only Ashley was real. Her surname was her adopted one but she would explain that later. She told him about her life and couldn’t believe how easy and natural it was to tell him things she had never told anyone before; how she really felt about her parents, how much of a snobby bitch her mother was and the weed that was her father. She told him about how she enjoyed telling them she was quitting Harvard to go join the navy and how she loved her job although was sufficiently vague for Scott not to know what she really did.

  “So that’s me. Ashley Jones at your service,” she finished and catching Scott’s eye, quickly turned away and blushed again.

  An awkward silence fell between them as neither knew what to say. The feelings they felt looking into each other’s eyes were not something relative strangers normally discussed. Fortunately for them both, a gesticulating arm in front caught their attention.

  Following the direction of the arm they looked down to two small islands surrounded by the crystal clear azure waters of the South China Sea. One island was nothing more than a sand bank, its only vegetation, a small grouping of trees. The other island was much larger although still small in real terms. Its green lush centre framed by pristine white sands. Ashley immediately fell in love.

  “I’m afraid there’s nowhere large enough to land, we’ll have to hover over the water and you’ll have to jump in,” instructed Kyle.

  Ashley looked at Scott and before she could ask, Scott explained.

  “They’re not coming with us, they need to get the helicopter back and they’ve got a job to go to.”

  “Oh, OK,” replied Ashley, wondering how low they could hover over the water and whether shark documentaries were filmed near there.

  “Don’t worry,” said Scott putting his hand on her knee. “There are no sharks or anything.”

  Had her expression been that obvious?

  “Well none that I can see!” he added looking down at the waters and laughing.

  Ashley pushed his hand away from her knee and looked down apprehensively. The helicopter inched closer and closer to the sea and island as Kirk carefully manoeuvred as close as he dared. Finally, he gave the instruction for them to go.

  Scott opened the door and stepped down onto the skid rail, he then turned and offered his hand to Ashley who took it and slid across the seats and joined Scott on the skid rails. The crystal waters were only inches below them and as she jumped, she pinched her nose. Scott burst out laughing as he watched Ashley land in two feet of water with her nose held tight and eyes firmly closed. The water barely reached knee level, despite them being 30 yards from the shoreline.

  A slap landed on Scott’s upper shoulder. “Thanks,” she said before storming off towards the shore.

  “Sorry I should have told you it was really shallow,” apologised Scott.

  The twins, Kirk and Kyle were already out of sight by the time Ashley and Scott reached the beach and the waiting islanders who were looking at the pair with some confusion.

  “What are you doing back? And who’s this?” asked the elder of the group pointing towards Ashley.

  “It’s a long story Papa,” replied Scott, helping a stunned Ashley from the water.

  ***

  Kirk and Kyle spun the helicopter around and sped off. They really needed to get the chopper back before it was missed. From the day they were born, the two had never been separated nor stopped competing with each another. The two had joined the army on their seventeenth birthday and their instructors had literally sat back and let them train each other. No other recruits could come close to the time and effort the twins put into their training in a bid to outdo each other. Active duty saw no change as they each battled to outdo the other. Commendations racked up as the two proved themselves to be fearless warriors. A stint in the paras was followed by the SAS before the inevitable offer to join K Squad was issued. They readily accepted, on one condition. The two had to remain together, no separate missions. With some reluctance, the condition was met. However, not once in the previous three years was it ever regretted, the two made a formidable team.

  Chapter 36

  The deputy head of the Strategic Services Branch, Colonel Frank Renton, closed the door behind him as he entered the conference room. The room full of SSB department heads was already in silence, a sombre mood had descended upon the whole department following the murder of General Robert Ja
ckson. The conference room sat in the heart of the DIA’s ultra secretive headquarters located within Bolling Air Force Base in the Southwest corner of Washington D.C. Before he had a chance to speak, the door opened and Vice Admiral Jim Banks entered the room. The individual department heads stood up in unison to salute the DIA Director.

  “Please sit,” he instructed. “I just wanted to pass on my condolences to you all and to assure you that we are doing everything in our power to bring the killers to justice.”

  A murmur of appreciation reverberated around the room as the Vice Admiral took a seat.

  Frank Renton stood and addressed the group, a group which included some of America’s hardest and most dangerous individuals; a group which any sane person would do everything in their power not to upset. The SSB solved America’s problems before they arose. They worked with whoever helped them secure the national security of the United States and destroyed anyone who threatened it. Snatching, torture and execution were everyday occurrences for the US’s most secret intelligence force. As congress restricted the CIA’s activities, the president relaxed the controls on the SSB. America was at war and the SSB was on the frontline.

  “Firstly, I’d like to thank Admiral Banks for joining us this morning, it is very much appreciated.” Frank looked at Admiral Banks and nodded. “Now, down to business. What do we have?” he turned to the ten department heads and waited for their updates to flow but they all just looked at one another.

  “Anything?” asked Frank after a few seconds’ silence.

  “I’m afraid, all we know is that he boarded a non descript helicopter after we resolved the kidnapping of Agent Jones,” offered the Head of Covert Ops. “The trail dies there.”

  “We have no obvious link to any case,” offered the Intel Head.

  “What about Agent Jones’ kidnapping, any link?”

  “That’s the strange thing, we’ve lost contact with her, she’s disappeared.”

  Before Frank could respond, a knock at the door interrupted the meeting. The door opened and Admiral Banks was summoned from the room. Just as the meeting was about to recommence, shouting from the outer office interrupted proceedings again. Although nobody could make out what was being said, it seemed Vice Admiral Banks was extremely fucked off about something. A slamming door was quickly followed by a knock on the conference door. The door opened and a Brigadier General in full US Army uniform entered the conference. A few groans could be heard around the room, instantly drawing a cold stare from the new entrant.

  “Good morning gentleman. To those of you who don’t already know me, I am Brigadier General Joshua Brooks, formerly Deputy commanding general of the US Army intelligence and Security Command and now Head of SSB.”

  Frank was stunned, Admiral Banks had all but told him the job was his. Obviously the shouting had been the Admiral being informed from someone higher up the chain that Brooks was the new boss. Brooks was infamous within the intelligence community, a stickler for procedure. Nothing happened unless the requisite forms were completed and approved. His appointment into the SSB was beyond bizarre; it was absolutely nonsensical. This was the one area in the whole of government where documents had to get lost. Deniability was an absolute necessity.

  Not waiting for the none existent welcomes, Brooks continued. “I understand feelings will be running high over the death of General Jackson. However, let me assure you that we cannot let his death detract from our duties. We have to maintain the security of our nation.”

  Unperturbed by the continuing silence, he continued.

  “On that note however, I wish to put out as an absolute priority the warrant for the arrest of Agent Ashley Jones.”

  He smiled inwardly as the room ignited.

  “What the hell for?” shouted Frank above the protestations, silencing his colleagues.

  “It would seem Miss Jones fled the country shortly after the killing of General Jackson and managed to slip through Heathrow undetected. Nobody has any idea where she has gone. However it seems that shortly after deserting her assignment, a large sum of money was deposited into her bank account, with a similar sum deposited shortly after General Jackson’s body was found. She is now our number one suspect in General Jackson’s murder,” explained Brooks.

  Silence reigned as the men digested the information, particularly the reference to large sums of money, a damning piece of evidence that would be difficult to refute. All knew she had expensive taste but not all knew about her extensive trust fund and they struggled to doubt the evidence that had just been disclosed.

  “I think that will do. Back to work men and finding Agent Jones,” ordered Brooks before turning and leaving the conference room. He walked down the corridor and barked at his new secretary to clear General Jackson’s personal belongings from his office immediately. He’d return in ten minutes and would expect them all gone. Between the sniffs into her already drenched handkerchief, the secretary nodded her understanding and with tears dripping from her eyes, she went about emptying the belongings of a boss she loved dearly into a brown cardboard box.

  Brooks stepped into an empty office and dialled a number.

  “Secretary Nielsen’s office,” answered the woman.

  “Can I speak to him please, it’s Brigadier General Joshua Brooks.”

  Before he finished speaking, the secretary put him through.

  “Josh, how’s it going?”

  “Great thanks, how’s Banks?” asked Brooks.

  “He’ll calm down sometime in the next decade but don’t worry about him, how’d it go?” asked Nielsen brushing aside the screaming match Banks, the DIA Director, had had with him over Nielsen moving Brooks into his command structure without his knowledge.

  “Did he offer to resign?”

  “Yes but I refused. Look, I know you want his job but just bide your time. It’ll be soon, I promise.”

  “OK, OK, anyway it worked a treat. The money deposits got them suspicious.”

  “Excellent but I can’t emphasise enough that we need to find her asap and I do mean yesterday asap.”

  “Got you, one thing though. If anybody goes snooping, what about the transfers? Will they hold up?”

  “Of course, the money’s there and some genius has played about with the timings, backdating the payments to fit the timeline. Also, the money comes from a source that if they look hard will lead back to a small but extreme fundamentalist terrorist group. Sorry, got to go, my other phone’s ringing.”

  Brooks was left holding the phone as Nielsen ended the call abruptly. He walked back to his new office and found it devoid of personal belongings as instructed. His next job would be to sack the secretary, he’d bring his old one over from INSCOM. She knew just how he liked things. It was all about order, everything had its place.

  ***

  Nielsen answered the other call.

  “Nielsen.”

  “Hi. How’d it go?” asked Ernst.

  “Let me assure you within five minutes every member of the intelligence community of the United States and her allies will be finding Ashley Jones as a top priority. The SSB will call in every favour they have to track down the mercenary bitch who killed their boss.” As Nielsen spoke, he noticed a message pop on his screen. George Cunningham was holding for him. “Can you just wait a minute Max, I have George Cunningham holding for me.”

  “Of course.” Ernst had just had his first piece of good news for hours and was happy to savour the moment.

  Two minutes later, Nielsen came back on the line and explained what Cunningham had told him.

  “Excellent, did he say what he wants?”

  “Just what was discussed at the last Bilderberger, whatever that was.”

  Max Ernst smiled. If what Cunningham had just given them was right, the least they could do would be to ensure George Cunningham MP would become Prime Minister at the next election.

  The Bilderberger was a conference held every year attended by the most influential men on the planet. The topics
of discussion were a closely guarded secret but what was not was the abundance of future world leaders whose attendance at the conference preceded their rise to power. The Bilderbergers made and broke political careers and Transcon shareholders wielded more power than any when it came down to final selection. Although more than a few Bilderbergers would have revolted at the idea of a Transcon shareholder running for President had they known of Sam Baker’s real source of money. Transcon, according to more than a few, were becoming just a little too powerful.

  “Are our friends down at Diego Garcia still looking for some targets to practice on?” asked Ernst already knowing the answer.

  Chapter 37

  The introductions and explanations took up the rest of the afternoon and by the time Scott had a chance to talk to Ashley, it was time for dinner. Papa, understanding how important the occasion was, had arranged for Scott and Ashley to dine alone in private and had organised everything for them. Ashley had been swept away to a neighbour’s home while Scott had joined Papa to prepare for a dinner that would change his life. Scott spent one minute in the shower and much to his surprise most of his time trying to decide what to wear. Jeans didn’t seem right but neither did trousers. Bermuda shorts and a crisp linen shirt won in the end.

  Ashley had a much easier decision. With no luggage, she was at the mercy of the islanders and spent most of her time in the shower, scrubbing away any remnants of the four men’s brains. Stepping out of the shower, she found a floral skirt and small white blouse laid out for her, she quickly dried herself and put on the simple clothes. Checking herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but wish her suitcase had made it with her. However as she entered the room, a hush descended. The simplicity of the dress highlighted Ashley’s natural beauty and the women were already certain she was the one for Scott. Although she tried to convince them otherwise and that she didn’t even know him, she couldn’t help but think the idea was not exactly repulsive. After all, he was absolutely gorgeous and had a body to die for.