Sabre Six : File 51
Page 1
JAMIE FINERAN
Sabre Six : File 51
Sabre Six : File 51
Copyright © 2013 Jamie Fineran
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording
or by any information storage and retrieval system
without permission in writing.
All Characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance
to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Enquiries should be addressed to
Percy Publishing
Field House,
93 Theydon Park Road,
Theydon Bois,
Essex. CM16 7LS.
England.
www.percy-publishing.com
Kindle Edition
1st Published July 2013
ISBN : 978-0-9571568-3-8
Cover Design Copyright © 2013 Percy Publishing
Percy Publishing is a Clifford Marker Associates Ltd Company
Cover Image : George Young
Competition Winner 2013
Be the Face of Michael Fox
I’d like to dedicate this book to my wife Debbie & William for their support whilst writing this novel.
I would also like to thank Ruth Killeen for her belief in me and guiding me in the right direction.
Thanks to Cherry Burroughs & Clifford for getting everything squared away.
For Phil Campion and John Giddings for their kindness and generosity.
I’d also like to thank all the boys serving, and that have served, from both battalions of the Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment.
Sabre Six : File 51 was written by Jamie Fineran, a former soldier who served two tours in Northern Ireland during the 1990s. He is now married to Debbie, with his twelve year old step-son. Jamie now works at Parkhurst Prison on the Isle of Wight which held some of Britain’s most notorious criminals of the twentieth century.
Jamie Fineran
www.jamiefineran.com
www.facebook.com/jamie.fineran.14
@JamieMFineran
Sabre Six : File 51
Chapter One: Sabre Six – File 51
Paris, Gare du Nord, 2013
The train station was very familiar to me: it was spotless. The departure lounge was superb! I couldn’t fault the place. It was a design of excellence.
“Bonjour, Monsieur! Puis-je avoir un billet pour Londres, s’il vous plait. Merci.”
“Merci, Monsieur. C’est Plate-forme Un, à 19:45 heures.”
I sat down and took a breather for five minutes, totally shattered. I was contemplating buying another coffee, but decided against it as time was pushing on.
I looked up, viewing the screen above indicating the departures to London. I noticed that my train was arriving shortly, so I picked up my bag and walked over to the check-in desk. I showed the officer my passport, walked through the barrier and onto the platform.
“Excuse me, Sir!” A middle aged, suited and booted gentleman with a thick London accent walked up to me. He looked like an educated fella, and his shoes were like mirrors: he must be important!
“Are you talking to me, mate?” I looked at him calmly.
“Yes, Sir. Would you follow me, Sir? We just need to ask you a few questions about your travel plans to the United Kingdom.”
“But my train is about to leave!”
“Don’t worry about that, Sir: you’ll be fine. Just come with me and we’ll explain everything in a moment.” I felt a little flustered, as I hadn’t seen my beautiful wife and daughter Frances in ages.
“That’s it, Sir – just through there! Do you fancy a coffee Michael?”
“Oi! How the hell do you know my name, buddy?” I asked, not knowing what the heck was going on.
“Just sit here and relax. Someone will be with you shortly.”
“Oi, I’m talking to you, mate! Answer my fucking question!” I clenched my fist: was this a set up? I stood up. The room was very small. There were two seats, a small table, and a coffee and tea making machine in the corner.
“Michael, sit the fuck down and shut up! Quit the fucking moaning, you sound like a girl!” In walked a man I hadn’t seen in a very long time. The last time I saw Stan, I saved his life in Iraq. I remained standing, feeling a little emotional. He was a great character.
“My God, if it isn’t my old mate Stan! What the hell are you doing here buddy?”
“Michael, you haven’t changed much have you!”
“More than can be said for you, stranger. What the hell happened to you, you wanker?” Stan stood there in a very posh suit – Marks & Spencer’s by the looks of it too! Christ! He had hair gel and everything going on.
“I’ve settled down now, mate. Well, kind of anyway. What about you Michael, and how’s Hannah?”
“Yeah, she’s good thanks. Frances is growing up quick too; got a new dog now! A little Jack Russell called Griffer. A right little character – he reminds me of Nig!”
“Well, I’m sure he’s a right little character if he reminds you of Nig!”
“It’s been a while now hasn’t it?”
“It sure has, Michael.”
“Hey, hey, enough of the sombre stuff! What have you got me down here for anyhow? What do you want, knob-head?”
Stan sat down with a coffee in his hand. “We need your help Michael.”
“Stan, who the fuck is ‘we’? Who are you working for now, mate?”
“MI5, mate. I’ve been with the Spooks for nearly two years now.”
“I thought you were leaving all this behind and marrying Maggie, mate? I thought you were settling down and having kids?”
“Things change, buddy. You know all about that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, you’re right mate, you’re right!”
“Anyway, I need you to do me a favour. It pays well, Michael.”
“How much?”
“£10,000, cash.”
“Ok, I’m listening. I don’t think Hannah will be happy, but ten grand is ten grand. What’s the job then, Stan?”
“We need you to follow someone for us, Michael – back to London.”
“When?”
“Now!”
“What do you mean, now?”
“Well, like I just said! He’s booked on the same train as you, which we’ve delayed for half an hour.”
“How the fuck did you know I was here by the way?”
“Your passport, Michael. We knew our target was on site but then your profile flagged up when we did a passenger check, so we pulled you as I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He started laughing.
“Ok mate, who’s the target, what’s your beef with him?”
“Our target is Ryan Killeen, ex IRA. Once the IRA shut down in 1998, or shall we say, quietened down, Killeen started gun running for the Taliban.”
“The little fucker! So what you got on him then?”
“Ah mate, we’ve got enough, but not enough to take him out! He’s working for the Taliban, selling guns to them across the border from Pakistan into Afghanistan!”
“This sounds a little too big for me mate, don’t you think?”
“No, Michael, you’ll be ok. All we want you to do is follow him back to London, see what he does, where he goes. You know what we want, Michael!”
“Ten grand you say?”
“Yes, ten grand, Michael.”
“Make it £15,000 and you have a fucking deal!”
“Go on then, you shit! And that’s only because you saved my arse once, or I’d tell you to sod off you cheeky bastard!”
“I fucking love you Stanley, you ugly git! Whe
re’s the target then?”
“Come – can you see here on the camera, the man in the jean jacket with the red Adidas bag over his shoulder?”
“Yeah, he looks like a right wanker.”
“Well, that’s our man. You up for it or not, Michael?”
“Yeah, let’s do it! What intelligence you got on him then?”
“That is a need to know Michael, and you don’t need to know. Just follow him, log everything, and report back to me by tomorrow evening at 19:00hrs!”
“Ok, buddy! I’d better ring the wife. Hold on.” I redialled the wife; she was going to fucking love me for this!
“Hello baby, you ok? Baby, I’m going LIVE. Do you understand darling?”
“Yes, I understand Michael! Why for God’s sake? You’ve only just got back!”
“I’m working for Stan darling! You know how it is, beautiful!”
“Ok, just promise me one thing!”
“What’s that, baby?”
“Keep safe, and get home soon!”
I love my family so much. They’ve been through so much the last couple of years, since I left the Regiment (SAS). My family is my world, and I will do anything I can to put a meal on the table.
“I’ll be back in a couple of days – promise, baby!” I put the phone down to see Stan looking anxiously over.
“Keep safe, Michael, and don’t do anything fucking stupid will you. I know what you’re like, you sarcastic little shit!”
“Love you, Stan, you ugly fucker. Now fuck off! I got a job to do for British Intelligence.” I laughed as I went through the door.
“Stan! Do you think he’s fit for the job?” One of Stan’s team was standing next to him as they watched Michael walk along the platform.
“Yes! He was the best. Plus he saved me arse more than once. This is his life!” Stan reminisced.
“Michael is one of the kindest men I know; he has a heart of gold. He only has one down side!”
“Yeah, what’s that then?” asked the officer. Stan turned around.
“He’ll cut you down for £20. He likes the smell of cash!” Stan was laughing at the young rookie.
I walked casually, showing my passport once more to the officer. He nodded to me and I strolled forward onto the platform. I could see my target about twenty metres away. I held my mobile phone in my hand and prepared to make a call while moving closer to Killeen. He wouldn’t have any idea it was a false one.
“Hello, it’s me!”
What the hell do you mean, you’re going! Who’s got the kids? You’re joking! I can’t just leave, can I! Be realistic!” I put down the phone, placing it inside my coat, and shook my head from side to side, gritting my teeth. Killeen noticed my anguish, but continued facing ahead.
The guard ushered us forward, showing us the way to the train. I kept close to Killeen, still acting as I went.
My inner consciousness was telling me to hold back, but I felt I should be pushing the boundaries: I may have found a way in! The carriage started filling rather quickly, so I went in for the kill. Why not? I was only a passenger wanting to go home. I placed my bag carefully in the overhead compartment, and then once I’d squared myself away I sat down and took a deep breath.
I was sitting at the same table as Killeen and right opposite. I felt quite proud of my efforts: not bad, Michael, not bad! If I had another hand, I’d pat myself on the back. He looked less of a threat than I’d thought, more of a wimp, and as if he could do with a few dinners inside him.
I started to fumble around in my belongings, pulling out a book on ghosts. Killeen looked over at the book and smiled. I could feel my mobile vibrating in my jacket pocket and pulled it out. It was my mate Pete.
“Hello! What the hell do you want now? You can’t just kick me out, I haven’t done anything wrong. Are you mad woman?” I yelled down the phone.
“Michael, you’re LIVE aren’t you! Ok, carry it on, I’m here.” Pete was playing along.
Glancing over at Killeen, I banged the phone down on the small table which divided us. He looked sympathetic.
“It looks like you’ll be sleeping in a hotel tonight then, my friend?” Killeen had made contact!
“Yeah, darn bloody woman! Unbelievable! – and I haven’t even done anything wrong for Christ sake!”
“Women will always win, my friend. That’s just the law!”
“Yeah, I think you’re right, mate.” I let out a little snigger.
“Anyway, I’m being very rude! My name’s Michael. Pleased to meet you, Sir. Oh! And sorry for the aggro!” I reached over and shook his hand with a firm grip. He returned the gesture!
“So then, you been on holiday Michael, or anywhere nice?”
“No, work! I work for a building firm in Paris. It pays far better than in the UK. I got a daughter to support see, and I desperately need the cash. At the moment I’m just doing odd jobs on site.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Michael. My name’s Ryan, I’m from Northern Ireland.”
“Likewise. So what do you do for work then, Ryan?”
“Ah, now that’s the question, Michael. That is a great question my friend! I’m a busy man; I work all over the world. I’m a builder by trade. I own a large building firm in Belfast and Paris.”
“That sounds fantastic, mate. Good for you! I always wanted to travel the world when I was younger. I was going to join the Army, but decided against.” Killeen’s face was a fucking picture!
I heard the sliding door open behind me, and turned round to see a camp-looking fella pushing a trolley full of sweets and hot drinks.
“Hello, Sir! Can I offer you anything from the trolley?” The camp bastard! I looked towards Killeen.
“Fancy a coffee, mate?” I was quite surprised really when he took me up on my offer.
“Yeah, I’ll have two coffees and a packet of salted nuts, fella.”
“That’s 10 Euros, please!” I couldn’t believe the bloody prices!
I took a massive swig of the hot coffee, burning my lips as I did so, I felt a right prick. Killeen just laughed at me.
“So what time are we arriving in London then, Michael?”
“Uh... sorry! ... I don’t remember. It doesn’t really matter to me; I’ll have to find a place to stay tonight anyway now the wench has kicked me out for the time being. Ha-ha!”
Killeen looked out the window into the outer suburbs of Paris as the train gathered speed.
“Aah lad, you don’t want to worry about things like that, you’ll give yourself a hernia!”
I smiled, sat back and finished off my coffee. I was wondering how my wife and daughter were, and hoping that Griffer was behaving himself. I felt sure this wouldn’t take too long, (crossing all my fingers, twice). There was no way I could’ve turned down that cash: no fucking way! That would sort me right out for the next few months.
Without batting an eyelid, a hot blonde came and sat down next to Killeen. I was gobsmacked! He kissed her on the lips and slid his hand under the table. I looked away as best I could, it didn’t take much effort to look round again, though, as she was fucking superb! She looked over at me with a pair of inquisitive eyes.
I winked and caught my breath. Killeen passed her a memory stick, which she very quickly tucked inside her bra. She kissed him on the lips, brushed her hand under the table, obviously on his cock and walked off into the opposite carriage.
“Women, they fucking love it, Michael! Ha-ha!” Killeen said, wiping his lips.
“How the hell do you know that girl? She was gorgeous!”
“Aah, she’s an old friend. I knew she was on the train, I just didn’t want to sit next to her, that’s all. We’ve been working with each other all the time. I get to work with lots of people, Michael. It’s great having power, you know: it’s fucking fantastic!” I was gobsmacked. I didn’t mention the data stick. I knew it was dodgy. I’d just have to watch and observe. He must have felt fucking comfortable to have done that in front of me, I had a good chance of
gaining some valuable information tonight, if all went well.
“After all that excitement Michael, I think I need a power nap!” I totally agreed with him. It wasn’t long before we were both fast asleep, and about an hour passed before we woke. My mouth felt like something had died inside it. The first thing I thought of was my family.
Before I knew it, we arrived in London. The place is never empty, and the platforms were buzzing. I walked alongside Killeen as we left the carriage and along the platform towards the exit. We both took the stairs to the top floor.
“Well, I suppose this is goodbye, my friend! Thanks for the company – it was nice to meet you.” I needed to think fucking fast. Pulling out my phone from my jacket pocket, I exaggerated a further phone call to my wife. I made sure I was very vocal and that Killeen could hear me. It worked. I fucking knew it would. Killeen stopped and turned around.
“Uuh, if you’re in the shit, mate, I know a little hotel around the block that I always use, if you fancy it? It’s better than sleeping rough, mate, ‘cause I don’t think you’re going back home tonight?”
It took some thinking about! “Yeah, go on then, mate! Fuck her!” The plan had worked.
“I’m very thankful for this, Ryan. It’s very kind of you mate.”
“No worries, Michael.”
“What’s the hotel called, mate? Is it nice, or a fucking shit hole? Ha-ha!” I used a bit of humour to settle myself: I was getting in deep now.
“It’s average. Very cheap for around here, mate, anyway. They take the piss in London.”
“Yeah, tell me about it, buddy, tell me about it!”
When the taxi pulled up outside the hotel I grabbed my bag and looked at the name. The Paddington: it looked alright from the outside.
“Come on! Grab your stuff and let’s get inside for last orders.” Killeen dragged me inside. The hotel carpet was bright red; it was rather grand actually, and very swish as my mother would say.