Spy Shadows

by Freddie P Peters

  A voice he recognised was asking for him. His name was mentioned a few times until a shadow appeared in the mirror Henry was facing. He turned around hesitantly, looking embarrassed. “Very sorry… couldn’t hold it…” The two other men that were with Hamza nodded, happy to leave the stinking place. Hamza waited for a short moment. Henry splashed his face again and Hamza vanished without a word.

  Wasim was at the door. It seemed that today they had decided to wear the same army fatigues and black shirt. The reason perhaps it had been easy for him to replace Henry in the prayer room without anyone noticing until the end. “I told you to stay away from that kebab…” Wasim’s face still sore, managed a smile… They had what they had come to get.

  Henry grinned back… “I know bro… I should always listen to you.”

  “Where’s The Treasurer?” They were both walking out of the building.

  “Gone for the night.”

  Henry nodded. “We’ve gained another day.”

  “Perhaps…”

  Time to accelerate to phase 2 of Plan B.

  * * *

  “We need to get Henry and Wasim to Al-Hasakah.” Harris, Amina and James had gathered around the large digital map that was projected onto the wall of RED HAWK’s control room.

  “Aren’t they better off deciding on the best extraction route themselves?” James’s eyebrows had formed a straight line, concentrating. “Henry’s a good lateral thinker.”

  “That was the plan, but I would rather have options when we communicate. Wasim will soon see we have activated the emergency protocol. He knows what that means.” Amina was zooming in on Al-Hasakah.

  “We can have one more comms that passes on info only… so that they know we’re closing the website… but I can’t give them a location until they can call us from a phone that’s not tapped.” Harris was playing with his cigarette pack.

  James grabbed a chair and sat next to Amina, his mind already working on possible options.

  “Kurdish territory is a good idea… but they need to get there…” James was thinking out loud and Amina was about to tell him that stating the obvious was not why he had been recruited. Harris squeezed her shoulder. She kept quiet.

  “And in that instance a straight line might not be the best line… I wouldn’t go through Syria from Raqqa but through Iraq.”

  This was indeed lateral thinking.

  “But that means…” Harris wavered.

  “I know…” James pointed to one city on the map…

  Chapter Thirty

  The hotel’s restaurant had been turned into a vast canteen. Once the sun had set most occupants descended upon it, famished after a day of fasting. It was tough to spend a day without food or water and still go about your business… even more so when your business was war.

  Henry’s mouth watered as he walked past. The food he had hidden in his room was nothing to compare; still, it did keep him going during the day.

  Henry did not bother to return to his bedroom and started queuing with the others. Wasim had disappeared once more. Henry knew what he was after; he hoped it would not once more throw him back into Raqqa Stadium.

  The food was plentiful and very good too. A successful army was meant to work well on a full belly. IS was certainly doing that for its fighters. Henry scanned the room for Ali and the three men who had attacked him, but no one was around. He filled his plate to the brim, balanced a large piece of khoubz on top and made his way to the fifth floor. The terrace would have been in the shade for some time and the sunset had brought a pleasant breeze.

  He moved to the far side where he had arranged a couple of loungers and a table.

  Henry had almost finished his plate when Wasim appeared in the frame of his bedroom’s sliding doors. Wasim had gone down to fetch a plate too. He was balancing it over a laptop like a waiter using a tray.

  The long-forgotten image of a plastic tray, a plate less well garnished and a mug of tea materialised out of nowhere.

  The cell is small, but Henry has learned to see it in another light. Apart from a bed, it has a little bookshelf, a table and a chair. A wash basin and toilet have been squeezed into a corner too. Taking back food to eat in one’s cell is allowed at HSU Belmarsh. Henry uses it a lot. He has been told by an ex-con who had become his trusted limo driver that there are three things he needs to do to stay alive in prison… keep a low profile, never trust the screws, keep active.

  His plate wobbles a bit on his knees, and he puts it on the table. Memories of past menus seem unreal, veggies cooked so much they’re akin to puree, eggs swimming in fat, fruit that only consists of apples or bananas. Henry inhales. He is out now. He has made a choice. Redemption might come if he puts his life in the balance. And what better choice than to have come here to Raqqa… a life for a life.

  Wasim put down the plate and laptop on the coffee table at which Henry was eating. He had already started on the khoubz, a half-moon missing from its side. Then he dragged a chair close to Henry’s and began tucking in.

  “It’s taken you time.”

  “Some idiots started arguing about the last piece of meat on a dish… shouting at the cooks because they weren’t bringing food out quickly enough.”

  Henry was mopping up the last of the meat juices with his bread. “I’m not talking about the food…”

  Wasim held the laptop as he would a book, in one hand, fork in the other. “I’ve had my eyes on this one for a while… it was just a question of opportunity.”

  “And if you’re caught with it?”

  “I’m dead…”

  Henry shook his head. “That’s no longer a good joke, Was.”

  “We’ll be out in less than 24 hours now… I need a laptop to communicate and orient us, otherwise we’re leaving Raqqa blind. It’s worth the risk.”

  Henry finished the last of his bread. They would not be leaving until he knew Mattie was safe. That might take longer than 24 hours. Challenging Wasim on this would not bring anything good. He changed the subject.

  “Do you think they bought the egg trick?”

  “Difficult to say.” Wasim took a small mouthful and grunted. This was so good. “The smell was really convincing though…”

  They both chuckled. A schoolboy bad joke that seemed to have paid off.

  Wasim opened up the laptop and started to inspect it.

  “Didn’t you call MOTHER?”

  “Not a chance… I can’t use the tearoom next to the hotel anymore and I half suspect my name has been circulating in other places.”

  Henry nodded. “Until your name comes to The Treasurer’s ears.”

  “Almost certainly… a few things are going to start looking odd in any case… The speed at which the UK government is agreeing things. You’ve pushed, even if subtly, for the exchange of two hostages, your phone spends a lot of time stuffed into your rucksack. I have been asking a few questions, getting people to talk and gossip…”

  “And I didn’t manage to lock The Treasurer’s office before I got out.”

  Wasim shrugged. “Don’t beat yourself up. You did good. I’ll download the images you took from your phone as soon as I’ve cracked that baby. You can then erase them. Whoever is monitoring you won’t have noticed you took them.”

  “I still need a good day to finalise the exchange… and you’re right. If Baghdadi has made the decision to ask for one hostage, he has sensed the UK is willing to give in.”

  Wasim ignored Henry’s remark. He too did not want to argue about timing it seemed. “Perhaps Baghdadi is not that keen on seeing Maeraka back in Raqqa now that he has been made caliph.” Wasim keyed in a couple of instructions. He nodded, satisfied.

  “Perhaps… but at least we know the UK is going to agree.” Henry did not wait for Wasim to reply. He did not want to contemplate any other outcome. “Do you think the rest of the building was oc
cupied?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure the women were transferred with the men.”

  Wasim frowned. This did not entirely make sense.

  “Mattie hasn’t called me. I managed to slip the hotel number to her when I saw her last.”

  Wasim shook his head. What was he thinking of? This could put her in even more danger.

  “Or she did not have the time… these people are not going to warn the hostages. They will simply move them as they please.”

  “Not according to The Treasurer.”

  “That’s a point… Haddawi is not happy with the exchange, but if Baghdadi has decided, he will not interfere.”

  “Shall we talk about what comes next?” Henry braced himself. “I’ve been poring over the maps of Syria and Iraq… We need to go against the flow… to reach the Kurdish Territory… in Iraq.”

  “That means moving inland and away from Turkey.”

  Henry nodded. “The obvious route is Aleppo… combined with an extraction through to the Turkish border. But if we go that way IS will be looking for us, the minute they realise we have gone. They have too many checkpoints along the way… equipped with RPGs, it makes a helicopter extraction difficult.”

  “Not if we put enough distance between us…”

  “Was, the only way we are going to make it out of Raqqa unnoticed is at night and by going through checkpoints less likely to stop us.”

  Wasim pushed his plate. “OK, what’s your escape route?”

  “Mosul.” Henry almost held his breath. Wasim shook his head with a grin. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

  “Not at all. Think about it. No one will look for us that way. There are very few checkpoints to cross and if we do this with the new vehicle…”

  “No… it’s not happening.”

  “What else do you suggest then?” Henry did not argue with Wasim. It was a risky plan, he agreed.

  “I contact MOTHER with my new toy, agree a drop zone near the Euphrates river and get out from there… I’m not crossing into Iraq…”

  “It takes a long flight over Syria to reach the banks of the river. Even if the helicopters come from the Turkish border. And if we try to get close to that border we also have to go through territory where IS, the Syrian army and anti-Assad rebels all operate. Mosul isn’t yet organised… IS is sending a lot of their people there to pick up armament, assets… we could be one of that lot.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Everyone at the Treasury is focused on this… looting and stripping Mosul of all its possessions.”

  “Still not happy… and…”

  Henry’s mobile buzzed. He lifted it and frowned at the message from a caller he did not recognise. “Who the…” He blinked a few times and handed the phone to Wasim.

  “MOTHER has been taken to hospital.”

  Henry’s mind was still a blank. He had forgotten the meaning of the coded sentence.

  Wasim sat back in his chair, still staring at Henry’s mobile. “They’ve triggered the emergency protocol.”

  It took a while for them to gather their thoughts.

  “Have we been busted?” Henry finally asked.

  “We’re getting there fast. If we had been, MOTHER would have called directly. But we need to interrupt comms. They’re probably cleaning all sites as we speak to avoid leaving a trace.”

  “How long have we got?”

  Wasim ran a solid hand through his hair. “If we could we’d leave tonight…” Henry was about to interrupt him. “But we can’t… We need to think things through. I need to crack this laptop and find some ammo for the guns we picked up from the guards… We leave right after that.”

  Henry slumped into his chair as well. There would be no communication with MOTHER about a helicopter extraction on time.

  “Take me through your Mosul plan again.” Wasim picked himself up. Henry cleared his throat and resumed his explanation. It did not feel like a win.

  * * *

  The rumble of feet along the corridors, voices shooting and knocks on doors still sounded distant. Henry wasn’t certain whether this was a dream or reality. He rolled out of bed, put a pair of trousers on and listened. Vehicles were departing, beams of light criss-crossing each other in the darkness of night. Wasim knocked at the sliding doors.

  “What’s happening?” Henry had stepped out.

  “There’s an alert… or an attack… I’m not sure.”

  “Here… in Raqqa?”

  “I know… but it’s what I’ve heard. They’re all desperate to get themselves shot.”

  Henry looked at his watch, 1.30am. “Let’s ask Ali.”

  Wasim hesitated.

  Henry picked up a shirt. “I’m going.” He walked out of his bedroom and ran down the four flights of stairs to the first floor.

  Ali was awake, standing at the entrance of his small room. “Not going?”

  “Nope…”

  The corridor was empty. “Did you say the SUV you’ve picked up for me is ready?”

  Ali nodded. “It’s here.” He hobbled to his bed, bent awkwardly to reach underneath the frame. “You need this.” He handed a set of keys to Henry.

  “Well done.” Henry was about to turn around.

  “And this too.” Ali held a spark plug between thumb and index finger.

  Henry grinned. “Good lad. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back soon.”

  Wasim had appeared on the landing. “We have a radio.”

  They moved to the now empty car park. The SUV had been parked in a remote parking bay, out of the way of daily traffic.

  Wasim tuned the radio as soon as they had settled in. Static came on first, but he managed to pick up voices as he tried new frequencies. “They are moving towards Makef Street.”

  The crackle cut across voices. Wasim strained to listen. “There has been an attack…”

  “Where?”

  Wasim shushed Henry, eyes fixed on the radio, willing the sound to become clearer.

  “Fuck.” Wasim slammed the dashboard. “It’s happening in the old oil factory.”

  “What… what’s happening?” Henry almost choked.

  “The bloody idiots… they sent an extraction team.”

  “British, US?”

  “Don’t know…” Wasim kept tuning in and out to lessen the static. “US, I think.”

  “We didn’t send them enough details…”

  “They’ve just stormed the place.”

  “Casualties?”

  “Yes, IS is asking for reinforcements.”

  The beam of car headlights swept across the car park and Wasim turned the radio’s volume down. A person disappeared into the hotel and then the car was gone.

  “Let’s go back, we won’t find out anymore by staying here.”

  “Surely they’ll talk about the hostages.”

  Wasim shook his head. “It’s all about the fight. Let’s hope the SEAL team succeeds in its extraction, otherwise…”

  They got out of the SUV. Henry removed the spark plug and they made their way back to their rooms. “We need to accelerate the plan.” Henry had summoned the lift.

  “There weren’t that many people who knew where the hostages were.”

  “And you were one of these people… I know.”

  * * *

  Mattie drifted into sleep. She turned over to find a comfortable position, woke up, memories of the afternoon still lingering. The new location was uncomfortable… hot during the day. Not cool enough at night. The bottled water was just enough to keep her hydrated. Gretta had fallen asleep and there had been no sign of Jean since she had left for Mosul.

  Steps that came down the corridor told her several people were coming. Mattie kept her eyes shut. The door opened, two men entered, followed
by two women in niqab. The women shook both of them awake, throwing cloths over their faces and pushing them hurriedly down the corridor.

  Mattie wanted to ask where they were being taken but there was no point. She slowed down to negotiate the stairs and felt the push in her back, almost tripping on her large robes.

  In the old factory yard, cars and trucks were waiting, engines running. Men in orange jumpsuits were being shown into the trucks. Mattie slowed down to check whether she could make out their faces. Another hard push in the back. The door opened. She was being bundled into a car, on her own. She fought back, arching her back to resist. A fist slammed into her kidneys, winding her. Her hands grabbed the metal frame in a final effort. The second blow threw her face first into the back of the car. A woman moved swiftly next to her. Mattie craned her neck to see who was taking Gretta. Her screams unbearable. Mattie muffled a choked cry.

  Mattie woke and sat up in a different bed, confused as to where she was. This new room was cool. Water and food had been left for her when she had arrived. She was on her own and the bathroom was almost luxurious. But the upgrade chilled her. She moved to the window and looked at the view… peaceful gardens of a house that seemed so far away from any war zone. She took a small piece of paper from within her bra and unfolded it. She had thought it pointless when Henry had given it to her. How could she ever manage to get to a phone? But she had decided she would find a way.

  Tomorrow… tomorrow she would call his number.

  * * *

  He woke up instantly. The buzz of his phone loud enough to break his sleep. He rolled on his side and picked up.

  “Harris.”

  “The US has dispatched one of its SEAL teams… It’s happening now.” Sir John sounded fully awake. He had not bothered to go to bed.

  “Without prior consultation?”

  “Not with MI6, no… it seems Colmore did not think it was necessary.” The Chief’s voice tightened. “I’ll see you at the Cross in an hour.”

  Harris slid from underneath the bed sheets and moved around the room silently, picking up his clothes with hesitant hands. Sarah was fast asleep, and he wanted to keep it that way.