The Sixteen

by John Urwin

  I’d brought the subject of security up only once before when Dynamo, in an unusual moment of seriousness for him, had let it slip that their security was the best there was, but then he quickly changed the subject and it was never mentioned again.

  The landscape began to look familiar as we neared the mountains and suddenly there it was, roughly four to five hundred yards in the distance, the old hangar. Well, that’s what I called it but it was really too small to have held anything other than perhaps a couple of light aircraft. We drove in through the gateway or what remained of a metal barred gate, which was now mainly broken and rusting. As usual, there were no obvious signs of security in place, just the feeling that someone was closely watching us as we pulled up outside the old tin hut.

  Chalky pushed the old creaky door open and following him in I saw my other teammates sitting around a dirty old table that was covered with bits of paper, maps and photographs. Dynamo turned towards me, smiling.

  ‘Here’s Geordie,’ he said. ‘I’ll bet he can help us to solve our little problem.’

  ‘You must joking,’ I said. ‘I thought I was here to learn off you lot.’

  Chalky nudged me. ‘That’s why you’re with us, young man. You were good at stuff like this during your training, so I’m sure you’ll be able to help us to come up with an answer now.’

  After my first operation, and my blunder with the rope that had almost resulted in my death, I’d wondered whether they might think I wasn’t up to it and reconsider my being part of the group. I really felt that I’d let them down badly, but they never referred to it, it just wasn’t important to them. Besides, going over past events simply wasn’t their way of doing things – they didn’t waste time: that was then and this was now. Their attitudes towards me hadn’t changed and, if anything, I now felt more a part of the team than ever before.

  ‘Well, what’s the problem?’ I asked.

  ‘Our problem is in Beirut,’ Chalky replied. ‘For the last two hours we’ve been trying to find a way to eliminate the target and get away without anybody knowing.’

  Spot shook his head. ‘Beirut, of all places! They couldn’t have picked a friendlier place if they’d tried!’

  ‘What’s the target and where’s Beirut?’ I’d heard of the place but wasn’t quite sure where it was.

  ‘The target is a man and Beirut is in Lebanon, Geordie,’ Spot explained.

  ‘Well, I’ve heard a lot about the place, but I never thought I’d be going. How are we going to get there?’

  Dynamo nudged me in the ribs. ‘Don’t worry about it, Geordie, it’s all been taken care of, a hack is picking us up before daylight tomorrow.’

  ‘A hack, what’s a hack?’ I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

  ‘You’ve heard of helicopters, haven’t you? Well, these helicopters are used for reconnaissance and search-and-rescue missions; they’re known as hacks by the guys who use them,’ he explained. ‘Short for hackney, you know, like the London taxis.’

  ‘A helicopter?’ I said, astounded. ‘I’ve seen pictures of them but that’s all.’

  ‘Well, you’ll be flying in one tomorrow,’ Chalky chipped in. ‘For obvious reasons, he can’t take us all the way, we’re going to have to be dropped into a small fishing boat and travel the rest of the way by sea. The trouble with that is we’ve only used the helicopter on two previous occasions and on the last one we had to abseil out of it, which gave us a few problems.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Spot nodded. ‘We hadn’t realised that we were going to have to do that, so we’d nothing rigged up inside the hack to make it possible to abseil out of it. We had to fasten our ropes to the floor and when we dropped out of the door the flaming thing was all over the place. They’re pretty unstable things – unless of course it’s just the way Ken flies them. Anyway, we found that the best way to do it was to leave from both sides at the same time.’

  Chalky interrupted him. ‘Don’t forget, Spot, Ken said that brackets have been fastened above the doors so we should be able to exit standing up, which will make it a hell of a lot easier. We’ll go through the procedure later on, Geordie, it isn’t difficult but you’ll need to familiarise yourself with it. We’ll fasten the abseil lines before we leave.’

  ‘The boat will put us ashore about nine miles north of Beirut, very near to a small village. Apparently, there are usually a lot of small fishing boats in the area around that time of day, so we won’t look out of place,’ Chalky continued.

  I was really excited at the thought of a helicopter trip. ‘How on earth did you manage to get hold of a helicopter, hack that is?’ I asked him.

  He put his finger to his lips, winked and smiled. ‘Ssshh!’ was all he said.

  ‘I know, I know. I shouldn’t ask!’

  ‘That’s right. You’re learning.’

  Spot was looking at some papers on the table. ‘We’ve been informed that our target operates from a government building, an office block, which is well guarded and there doesn’t appear to be an easy way to get him inside the building,’ he said. ‘We’ve looked at the whole set-up and the only alternative is to get him when he comes out for his lunch. We’ve been informed that he eats every day with some colleagues in a small café nearby, but there’s always a military escort of at least two accompanying him. So, we shouldn’t have any problems in recognising him. What we have to do is find a way of disposing of him without drawing any attention to ourselves.’

  ‘Our intelligence informs us that the target is to move out of the country very soon,’ Chalky explained. ‘We understand that there is something big going to take place in the area. We don’t know exactly what it is yet, but we must take him out before then. We aren’t entirely sure of exactly when he is moving but we do know that he is definitely going to be there for a few more days at least,’ he added.

  Dynamo handed out some photographs showing our target, the office block, street and café.

  ‘Apparently his sleeping quarters are changed at regular intervals, but the change follows no set pattern, so it’s difficult to pinpoint where he’ll be at night. The only thing he does consistently is to have his lunch between 1200 and 1400 hours with a military escort to the café and back,’ he said. ‘Of course, there are a hundred things that could prevent him from doing this. He could be in meetings, be too busy or even ill; he might not even go to his usual place but that’s a chance we’ll have to take. However, it seems to be one thing he does regularly, and he has to be taken out at some point.’

  ‘Well, we’ve got less than twenty hours to come up with something to solve the problem and only one chance to take him out,’ Chalky pointed out. ‘Believe me, guys, this isn’t going to be easy! This place is in the centre of the city, it’s going to be very crowded and crawling with armed troops, just getting to this building alone is going to be tricky. If we’re spotted these people will try to tear us to pieces; don’t forget that it’s not so long since our lot gave half of their country to the Israelis. So if we don’t get it right, we won’t be back in time for supper!’ he joked. ‘Now, if anybody has any bright ideas, we could do with them ASAP.’

  Spot nudged my arm. ‘Come on then, Geordie, fire away. We leave here at four in the morning and need to be in the vicinity of that building by 1100 hours so we have time to walk around and familiarise ourselves with the general area.’

  ‘Do you really think I’m up to doing a job like this so soon after the last one? It’s only been a few weeks! Has it got to be tomorrow?’

  ‘Don’t knock yourself, Geordie,’ Spot said, winking at me. ‘You’re not alone, you’re part of a four-man team and besides you’re the quickest learner I’ve come across.’

  ‘Anyway, we don’t have an option,’ Dynamo explained. ‘The trip from here to Lebanon is already set up because that’s when the helicopter is available and we’ve only got it for two or three hours tomorrow. Fancy a cuppa, Geordie?’

  For several hours we sat around the table drinking tea and eating
sandwiches, laughing and joking with good-natured banter as we discussed the various ideas each of us came up with, some totally serious, some deliberately daft. I really enjoyed being in their company; they involved me totally and listened to all of my opinions and ideas as we weighed up the viability of each suggestion and the possibility of taking the guy out without being detected.

  And for once in my life, someone was actually listening to me as if what I said counted, that it really mattered. It was a great feeling, even though I could hardly believe it, and, more importantly, it made me really feel part of the team. I felt inspired, despite having the definite impression that they’d already worked something out and were merely trying to encourage me to think, leading me in a certain direction, in order to see what I would come up with.

  ‘There’s got to be a way to do this without causing any commotion,’ Chalky said. ‘So to simply break his neck or knife him is out of the question really, and it’s going to be difficult to rig something up to blow him away as our information is that there are two cafés he uses regularly, one on either side of the street, plus several more in the area. Anyway, an explosion would simply alert the whole place and it would be all too easy for them to seal the area off and make it difficult for us to get back out.’

  ‘Besides that, we don’t want to be seen carrying anything which might draw attention to us. Don’t forget it’ll be broad daylight and we’ll need to blend in with the locals, so the less we carry the better,’ Spot added.

  ‘Yes that’s right.’ Chalky nodded. ‘Anyway, as you know, Geordie, we prefer to stay away from that sort of gung-ho operation if we can help it, it’s never that accurate and usually ends up with innocents, like kids, getting hit. And I do have a conscience,’ he continued. ‘Besides, we like the personal touch, it’s much neater and less hazardous. Carrying explosives can be rather uncomfortable and anyway the reason we are being sent in is because this kind of thing is what we do best – any idiot can do a “crash-bang-wallop” job.’

  As usual Dynamo was bursting with energy and raring to go. ‘This guy is proving to be a bloody nuisance, why don’t we just hijack a bus and run the bastard over,’ he joked. ‘Seriously though, what about trying to poison him? Drop something into his cup while he’s sitting having lunch in the café or rig something up to scratch or jab him on the skin?’

  This seemed to be the best solution so far and for some time we considered the options, the various poisons available that could be put on a needle or into a syringe.

  ‘The trouble with that, Dynamo, is his clothing, it could act as a barrier and wipe the poison off a needle, plus if it’s a delayed reaction, how will we know whether it’s worked or not? I don’t really think it’s feasible, do you?’ Chalky commented.

  For several hours, we continued to discuss the possibility of using poisoned needles or syringes, as we scrutinised a full-size chart of the human anatomy hanging on a nearby wall. During my training with them, I’d had to study the human structure in considerable depth and had learned how it worked, how its organs, muscles, arteries and nervous system interconnected. I’d had to know all of its vital points and weakest areas and how the skeleton formed the framework into which everything else interlinked. Now, looking at the wall chart, an idea began to form in my mind but the fact that it would have to be carried out with such incredible pinpoint accuracy made me reluctant to tell them. I didn’t think they would go for it.

  ‘What would happen if the needle was just long enough to puncture his heart?’ I said slowly. ‘If it was long enough and coated with poison, then even if the poison didn’t work I’m sure the needle entering his heart would do the trick.’

  Dynamo looked at me for a moment, then got up from the table and went over to the chart on the wall.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ I asked dubiously, as Chalky and Spot sat smiling at me for a moment longer, then walked over to join him.

  They stood talking quietly to one another for about five minutes then all three of them came back to the table, sat down and stared at me.

  Dynamo leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and said evenly.

  ‘Brilliant! How are you going to do it? How are you going to execute this?’

  For the first time in ages, I almost stammered. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. Does it have to be me?’

  ‘Why not, it’s your idea,’ he replied calmly.

  Spot was still grinning at me. ‘You’re a bit of a dark horse, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘You know exactly what will happen if you puncture the heart, you’ve been doing your homework, haven’t you?

  ‘This is brilliant, Geordie!’ Chalky said quietly. ‘But it’s got to work first time. The needle will need to pierce the sac around the heart, which will then fill up with blood. It takes a little time for the blood pressure to build up, but once it has done it will look just like a heart attack. There should be no visible signs or any marks on him apart perhaps from a small red dot on his chest where the needle has broken the skin.’ He paused for a moment before continuing. ‘And, more importantly, it might just give us the time we need to get clear.’

  ‘How would you propose to do it?’ Spot asked.

  ‘Well, I’ve given it a bit of thought and it’s obvious that the trick will be in getting close enough to him. If I can do it quickly enough, and providing I don’t hit his ribs, he shouldn’t feel a thing other than me bumping into him,’ I explained. ‘By the way, do we have any idea of the kind of thing he usually wears? We’ll need to know.’

  Spot rummaged around on the table and picked up a photograph of the target, which he handed to me. The man in the picture was a tall Caucasian, about forty to forty-five years old, dressed in a light coloured suit, shirt and Panama hat.

  ‘Our intelligence informs us that so far he’s been seen mainly wearing a white or sometimes a grey lightweight suit with white shirt underneath, but I’m afraid we won’t know that for definite until the day,’ Spot told me.

  ‘This guy looks white. Is he?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, he is. He hasn’t been in the country long enough to get very tanned, so it’ll make him stand out more. There’s no room for error.’

  I was pretty confident that I could do it, using the movements of The Machine. After all that was what The Machine was all about, the ability to repeat the same action and hit the same spot with deadly accuracy over and over again, specifically designed to ensure that we could inflict maximum damage with minimum risk of detection.

  ‘I’ll have to make sure I don’t hit one of his shirt buttons,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Or his ribs,’ Chalky added. ‘Otherwise he’ll be jumping around in agony.’

  ‘At what point do we do this? When he first leaves the building, when he’s at the café or when he’s returning?’ Dynamo asked, thoughtfully.

  ‘I don’t think we’ll know that until we get there, we’ll just have to play it by ear,’ Spot replied. ‘But if we try to get him before he gets to the café and for some reason it doesn’t come off and we can’t manage it, then we may have a second chance when he’s had his lunch and goes back to work. I think the best thing we can do now is to help Geordie practise and perfect the manoeuvre.’

  ‘I think it will have to be from the front just between the ribs, we can’t get him from the back or the side, I don’t think that it will be possible to take him from behind either. Besides, his shirt will be a lot thinner than his jacket,’ I said. ‘We’re going to need a needle about five or six inches long, made of hardened steel with a ‘T’ piece wooden handle on it and I’ll need a dummy to practise on.’

  Chalky laughed and pointed at Dynamo. ‘There’s the ideal specimen, he’ll make a jolly good dummy, he’s definitely the right man for the job!’

  Dynamo jumped to his feet laughing. ‘Watch it you! Men have died for less than that. Right then, Geordie, I’m the target. Chalky, Spot, you’re the guards.’

  ‘What happens if there are more than two guards, Dynamo? What happens if we
don’t get the chance, or it doesn’t work?’ I asked – I didn’t want to let them down and was naturally a bit apprehensive about the responsibility I was being given.

  ‘Our information is that he usually has two guys with him; if he has more than that we’ll just have to deal with it on the day and, more importantly, we’ll just have to make sure it does work!’ he replied emphatically.

  We began to practise the manoeuvre, putting the ‘guards’ into various positions around the target, in front, to either side, then at the rear. By using the movements of The Machine, I was able to ensure that I hit Dynamo in exactly the same spot each time, no matter what position he was in or where the guards were.

  Then we tried to come up with every possible scenario and, after several hours of practice, believed that we had covered every eventuality. The only way I was going to be able to manage it, would be to pretend to bump into the target; somehow I would just have to find a way of making it look accidental on the day. I spent a further couple of hours practising on a dummy, ensuring that I hit the exact same target area, over and over again, while the others tried to come up with alternatives.

  The main problem was that we didn’t readily have access to the types of poison we needed at such short notice. To my amazement, as the day wore on it seemed increasingly obvious that my idea was going to be the only viable possibility of being able to carry out the operation without having to fight our way out.

  ‘They’d think I was a right nutter if I told them about attempting this back at the camp, I’d probably be discharged for being mentally ill!’ I sniggered to Dynamo. ‘I can understand what you were saying to me about going back and telling them the truth about what I’ve been doing – who in their right minds would believe this?’