Golden Eights

by Nigel Seed

  “Deal with what? I think my parishioners and I have a right to know what you are taking from under our church.”

  “In a fair world that would be true, but I am very afraid that I can’t allow that.”

  Jim turned to the young SAS lieutenant and indicated the vicar with a movement of his head. The young man with the cold eyes and the camouflage uniform stepped towards the country vicar and taking him by the arm, steered him towards the vestry. The vicar tried to break free of the grip on his upper arm, but to no avail.

  “Never you mind, sir, there’s nothing there that will hurt the village and I hear you make a fine mug of tea. Perhaps you would like to show me?”

  Jim turned back to the hole in the floor in time to see Geordie drop down through it. A second or two later there was a grunt as Geordie passed up the first box. The men formed an impromptu chain and started passing the boxes to the doorway. The pile slowly grew. As Geordie worked his way down the pile in the cellar, he came to the boxes that had rotted and started to pass up individual bars.

  There was a pause. Jim looked down onto his sweating sergeant.

  “What’s up, Geordie?”

  “Just looking at these broken boxes. They are made differently and marked in a language I don’t recognize.”

  He handed up one of the box lids from those that had broken apart. Jim did not recognize the writing either.

  One of the SAS men looked over his shoulder and grunted. “Norwegian,” he said, “I recognize it from my time doing mountain survival training in the Norwegian winter. Bloody freezing, that was.”

  “Thanks,” said Jim. “I wonder how that got into a hole in the ground in Wiltshire? No matter. You’ve had your break, Geordie, let’s get this finished.”

  The work continued for another hour and even with their level of physical fitness, they were feeling the strain in their shoulders and backs. Geordie climbed slowly out of the hole in the church floor and stretched to ease his muscles.

  “Nice job, Geordie. No doubt your reward will be in heaven.”

  “If it’s OK with you, boss, I’d like to go and get a pint of reward at the Rose and Crown. With all the dust, in the cellar I’ve got a mouth like the bottom of a parrot’s cage.”

  “I think you’ve earned that. Ivan brought the truck round while you were caving, so the rest of us can load that while you get a wet.”

  ”Cheers boss, much appreciated” said Geordie, as he slipped quickly out of the church before anybody could object. He walked to the pub quickly and didn’t notice the dirty Ford parked across the road from the cemetery.

  Chapter 50

  With the borrowed truck loaded and the Special Forces soldiers positioned in the back on guard, they set off for London. As they pulled out of the churchyard Jim saw the vicar, standing in the doorway of his church and gave him a cheery wave before opening up his mobile phone to let Sir Richard know they were coming and to get the Bank of England work party ready to receive them.

  The weather was miserable as they drove along the trunk road, then on to the Motorway towards London. Despite the heavy canvas cover, the rain and the blustery wind made the conditions in the rear of the truck deeply unpleasant for the four men in there. Jim and Ivan were reasonably comfortable in the cab of the vehicle, but Jim was very conscious of the men behind him. He checked the map in his lap and looked out through yet another burst of pouring rain.

  “Ivan, there is a service area on the motorway just before we get to Farnborough. Pull in there and we’ll let these drowned rats get a hot coffee, before the final run into London.”

  “I think they would appreciate that, boss. Plus, the roads might be a bit quieter if we arrive a little later.”

  The blue and white signs for the service area appeared on their left and Ivan started to slow down. As they came alongside the slip road he changed down a gear and allowed the heavy truck to drift left towards the welcoming signs of the service area. He drove past the car park and around the circuit to the truck parking area. Seeing a gap between two large cargo vehicles, he slipped the Army truck into a place where it would be less obvious to the casual observer. Jim opened the door, jumped down and walked around to the tailgate.

  “Alright, gents, a fifteen minute break for you. Get inside, get a coffee, get a bit warm and then we are back on the road again.”

  The young team leader was the first out of the back of the vehicle. He walked across to where Jim stood watching the remaining Special Forces men climb down and stretch. Geordie joined them, having parked the hire car nearby.

  “What about you and Ivan, boss? Are you going to get something?”

  “No, we’ll stay here with the cargo. If you could bring a couple of takeout coffees back with you, that would be appreciated.”

  “Will do,” said Geordie, setting off after the other four soldiers towards the buildings where they could get a coffee and a break from the damp, cold truck.

  Jim took a look round the heavy green truck before climbing up into the back to get out of the rain. With large cargo vehicles either side of them and with Ivan looking forwards he felt they were sufficiently secure. He heard the air brakes of another vehicle pulling into the parking area, but thought nothing of it until a hand appeared on the tailgate of the truck he was sitting in, rapidly followed by a face and the other hand holding a Sterling submachine gun.

  “I guess you must be the Major?” said the newcomer. “You sit very still and you might just get out of this with a whole skin.”

  Jim said nothing. The empty feeling in his stomach said it all for him. How the hell could he have been so stupid? The ease of the first two recoveries had lulled him into a false sense of security and now he was paying for it.

  A second man climbed over the tailgate and sat on the side board of the truck. He too carried a Sterling and Jim noted uneasily that the cocking handle was pulled back. The weapon was ready to fire. At a range of less than eight feet, an automatic weapon firing 9mm bullets could make an awful mess of him.

  He felt the vehicle rock slightly as a third man climbed into the cab alongside Ivan. The first man dropped down from the tailgate, pulled out the locking pins and allowed it to fall open. Jim could now see five men behind the truck. With another in the cab there were at least six of them. A medium sized cargo truck backed up, guided by yet another man. That made at least eight of them. The back doors of the smaller truck were swung open from inside. Nine.

  Jim’s mind raced but he could see no way out of this. He watched as two of the armed men took up position to watch for the return of his people. They would be walking across a wide open tarmac parking lot and would have no chance no matter how well trained they were.

  The first man spoke again, “Now, Major, I guess you are trying desperately to work out how to leap from the truck and overpower us all, or something equally heroic. Not a good idea, I promise you. Any of us would be delighted to have an excuse to blow you into the middle of next week, so you stay quiet and do as you’re told like good little soldiers should.”

  Jim said nothing. It would be at least ten minutes before his men came back and he needed to find a way to warn them before that.

  Chapter 51

  Geordie stood in the small queue at the coffee bar and contemplated the menu options. Three of the SAS men were sitting close to the radiator in the corner of the café while the fourth picked up the order for all of them. The truck driver waiting in the queue behind him cleared his throat.

  “I know you guys are trying to avoid the cross loading, but I’m in a bit of a rush here, mate.”

  Geordie turned and looked at him. “What cross loading?”

  “The cross loading from your truck into that smaller one.”

  Geordie blinked. “Best you take my place in the queue, mate. I need a leak anyway.”

  Geordie turned away from the coffee bar and walked into the corner of the café, careful not to rush and draw attention. He reached the table and sat down.

  “I think
we’ve got trouble, guys.”

  “How so?” said the team leader.

  “The trucker at the bar thinks we are spinning out our time in here until the cross loading from our vehicle has finished. I think we might want to go now, eh?”

  The four other men at the table looked at each other and then stood. The team leader gestured for them all to leave the café and they followed him into the large open entry hall where they would not be overheard.

  “Right, gents, nice open truck park between us and the problem would make a wonderful killing ground. We need to go out the other side of the building and circle around, out of sight, but quickly. We should carry out a recon, but I think we need to get out before they expect us. Agreed?”

  They all nodded and looked around for another exit. “We’ll use that fire door over there on the motorway side of the building. John and Paul go left, use the embankment alongside the motorway for cover. Mike, you are with me going right. We circle around into firing positions and if necessary open fire together. A cross fire should ruin their day rather nicely, I expect. But if possible get in close; we don’t want any civilians getting involved”

  “What about me?” said Geordie.

  “That pistol of yours is pretty useless for this job, so stay inside the building and don’t let any civilians come out towards the trucks. The last thing we need is for these bastards to take hostages.”

  “But …..”

  “No buts. We don’t have time. Digging big holes is your thing, this is ours. Guard the door.”

  Geordie moved to the main exit doors and took a position to ensure nobody could get past him. He watched the four Special Forces soldiers disappear through the fire exit and move rapidly left and right.

  Geordie turned to look through the sliding glass doors to the vehicles standing in the truck park. He could see the radiator grill of the smaller vehicle that had backed up to their army vehicle, in between the two large articulated trucks. Even knowing they were there he could see no sign of the attackers. He could see no sign of the four soldiers either. The temptation to pull his pistol and run to the aid of his friends was strong, but military discipline held him in place.

  Out of the truck now, Jim watched the hijackers moving the boxes of gold across into their own vehicle. They were working hard and fast, paying him no attention. The man guarding him, with an automatic weapon, from less than ten feet away gave him no chance to act. His frustration with himself was intense, but he tried to calm down and gain as much information as possible, to pass on to the police, to try and catch this group once they moved off.

  “So, how had you planned this robbery if I hadn’t been stupid enough to stop here?”

  The man guarding him grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, we had it all set up. You had about three more miles to run before we pushed you off the road with our other truck. She’s a thirty eight ton Volvo, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. At least this way, you lot get to live. Provided you don’t do anything stupid, of course.”

  “You can’t hope to get away with this. Every copper in the country will be looking for you.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Major. We have a really nice plan all sorted out and it’s going to work a treat.”

  “Not sure you’re right about that son,” said Jim, as the SAS Trooper, known as John, rose silently behind the guard from under the truck they were next to. The soldier grabbed the robber’s neck in a nerve pinch and reached around to grab his submachine gun as he passed out. He eased the inert body of the guard to the ground and handed the Sterling to Jim.

  “There you go, sir, something for you to play with. Follow me under the truck.”

  He slipped quietly under the Army vehicle and waited until Jim joined him. He held his finger to his lips and then showed Jim five fingers, then four, then three in a silent countdown. As he reached zero the three remaining Special Forces men stepped out of their hiding places in front and behind the two screening trucks and moved swiftly to cover the sweating robbers laboring to move the gold. They had all put down their weapons to allow them to work except for the two men who had been watching the buildings and waiting for the soldiers to return from their coffee break. These two spun round with their weapons raised as soon as they realized what was going on behind them.

  It was a foolish mistake. The two troopers on that side of the work detail fired two shots each, in a classic double tap and the two guards dropped to the ground. By now Jim and his rescuer had emerged from under the truck and the remaining members of the gang had no option but to surrender. Jim walked to the passenger door of his own vehicle and tapped gently on the side window. The attacker guarding Ivan turned and looked down into the barrel of the submachine gun that Jim held steadily pointing between his eyes. Without a word, he handed his own weapon to Ivan and then turned away from the window to be met by a very effective Welsh fist, powered by hard muscle and anger. Jim reached up and opened the door, to allow the limp body of the unconscious man to slither to the ground.

  Ivan looked at Jim. “Our turn for coffee then, is it?”

  Chapter 52

  With submachine guns all around them, the would be robbers transferred the gold, they had already moved, back into the Army vehicle. Once that was finished, the two dead men were picked up and loaded into the smaller truck along with the two unconscious ones. The remaining robbers had their hands secured behind them and they too were loaded into the same truck and the doors closed behind them.

  Ivan walked across to the buildings to allow Geordie to stop blocking the doorway to the increasingly irate group of truck drivers who wanted to complete their journeys. His story about a military exercise happening in the truck park had worn thin and he was seriously contemplating drawing his pistol to keep the truckers inside and safe. He thanked them all profusely for their cooperation and walked back with Ivan to find Jim on his mobile phone.

  Jim closed the phone as they approached. “Hampshire Constabulary are on their way and I have asked that they bring their Special Branch people with them. If they treat these people as terrorists we will have more control over them. Plus, they can be interrogated for longer.”

  “So how did they know to attack us? They must have been tipped off by somebody. Do you reckon it could have been the vicar?”

  Jim shook his head. “Not likely. They would not have had time to organize this between us leaving Tilshead and now. No, it took time to set this up and to get the people and arms together. The vicar never had chance to call anyone while we were shifting the gold.”

  “Well,” said Ivan, “if not him then who the hell was it tipped these buggers off?”

  “Good question and well phrased. I don’t know, but we need to find out quickly. Hopefully, our friends in blue can persuade them to tell. And speaking of which, here they are.”

  The three of them turned to watch four police cars swing into the truck park at high speed with the blue lights flashing, but no sirens. They skidded to a halt and police officers boiled out.

  The senior officer looked around then said, “Is one of you Major Wilson?”

  “That’s me,” said Jim, stepping forward. “I’m afraid I am dumping you with a pile of paperwork as we have to get going.”

  “You can’t leave the scene of a crime without making statements and satisfying me about what went on here. You said, on the phone, there had been some fatalities so you are certainly not leaving.”

  “We certainly are,” said Jim, pulling the Prime Minister’s authority letter from his pocket. “Read this and get your Chief Constable to phone that number if you need to.”

  The Police Inspector looked up from the letter and then towards the panel truck that held the prisoners. He turned and followed the two trails of blood from where the guards had been shot and noticed the blood dripping from the bottom of the truck’s doors.

  “Bloody hell! What’s been happening here?”

  “As far as you are concerned it’s a terrorist attack on an Army vehicle
. There are other things going on that will not appear in your report or in the press, at least not yet. You need to make sure those prisoners do not get any messages out to anyone. Their mobile phones and their weapons are in the cab of their truck for you.”

  “OK, Major, let me check with my Chief Constable before you rush away. While I’m doing that you can explain to my sergeant just what the hell went on here.”

  “Will do. Sergeant, would you like to come over to the van and we can start dealing with your prisoners?”

  Jim and the police sergeant walked to the rear doors of the attackers’ truck. The soldiers moved to cover them with their weapons at the ready. The police officer looked around a little uncomfortably.

  “Do we really need all the artillery, sir? We are quite used to handling criminals.”

  “Ah, Sergeant, these are terrorists rather than ordinary criminals and my people are taking no chances with them.”

  Jim swung open the back door of the truck. As he had expected, the men inside were on their feet and ready to make a concerted break for freedom even though their hands were bound. As they tensed to jump they saw five loaded and cocked submachine guns pointed at them and decided against an escape.

  “See my point yet, Sergeant?” Jim said, smiling slightly.

  “I do, sir. OK, all of you people already on your feet, get out one at a time and form a line over there. Sir, if your men could keep them covered while my officers get them out of your bondage gear and into proper handcuffs, then into our vehicles, that would really help.”

  The prisoners stepped down obediently and walked to the area the sergeant had indicated. The police officers waiting there quickly handcuffed them and stood them facing the large truck next to them. One of the prisoners dropped to the ground and rolled under the truck. As he stood up on the other side, ready to run he found himself facing Geordie, who was now armed with one of the Sterlings.

  “Now, bonny lad, did you really think we were that stupid? Get back under there and join your mates before I get cross with you.”