by Conrad Jones
The second wave of Typhoon fighters were armed with AGM-84 Sidewinder missiles and Storm Shadow cluster bombs. The Sidewinders were designed to explode one hundred feet above the target showering the area with shaped metal charges, which could penetrate armoured vehicles and brick buildings. This devastating weapon was capable of destroying troops and armoured personnel carriers over a wide target area. The Storm Shadow cluster bombs were a very controversial choice of weapon. They were contained within a hollow rocket, which was filled with a mixture of airborne incendiary bombs and fragmentation anti-personnel grenades. They were designed to wipe out any enemy troops that had somehow managed to survive the initial airstrikes. The controversial part was that they also showered a wide area with anti-personnel mines. The ordinance was designed from a non-corroding plastic material, which left the mined area inaccessible for decades. The idea was stop the enemy from ever returning to the site again. The truth was that innocent civilians would become casualties for generations to come.
The first Typhoon unleashed hell in the form of four, MBDA Meteor missiles. The insurgents that were working or resting in the hanger areas never even heard the aircraft before they were incinerated by the burning liquid. The intense fires stripped flesh from bone in seconds, few men had chance to scream before their lungs seared as they inhaled the scorching air. When the young terrorists, who were in their dormitories, heard the initial explosions they picked up the nearest weapons to them, and rushed outside. It was the worst place to be. They were shredded and burned to cinders in minutes by the shaped metal charges and incendiary devices that were descending to earth slowly on tiny little parachutes. The charges were set to detonate at different times to maximise the killing zones of the bombs to devastating effect. The two small aircraft that were used to ferry supplies to the camp, were turned into pieces of tin foil confetti blowing across the desert in the second wave of the attack. The final Typhoon approached the smoking devastation at Mach speed. Using the heat from the fires on the ground as the target it launched a five hundred pound Brimstone bomb. The shockwave was felt three hundred miles away in Damascus. There were no bodies to count and no DNA to identify. No one could confirm or deny that that the camp ever existed or if it was sponsored by Yasser Ahmed. No one could say that it was training a new generation of terrorists. There was simply nothing left.
CHAPTER 6
THE RUSSIAN EMBASSY/ LONDON
Roman Kordinski was born in Poland to Jewish parents in 1968. Jews were in the minority in both Poland and the Soviet Union, so his father drifted from one dead end job to another. His mother had died from pneumonia when he was four years old, soon after his alcoholic father left him with his grandparents and disappeared. The rumour mill said that he was the victim of Muslim gangsters when he couldn’t afford the repayments to a loan shark. His grandparents spent their meagre savings on what education they could afford for Roman. It soon became obvious that the young Kordinski was incredibly bright. He was selected for state sponsored grammar school and was taken to Moscow to complete his studies. Even at school his skills as an entrepreneur began to surface. He would split packets of cigarettes into smaller more affordable bundles, and sell them to his fellow students at a huge profit. Roman also ventured into the money lending business, loaning small amounts of cash at extortionate rates. One semester an older boy borrowed money from Roman but reneged on his repayments, embarrassing him in front of a group of his closest friends in the process. Roman had walked away very calmly from the boy and then doubled back on him. The older boy was discovered a short time later with his hands pinned to his wooden desk by his geometry compass. He had refused to identify his attacker stating only that he was a stranger with a beard and glasses. No one believed the boy, but there was no proof against the young Kordinski. The incident was brushed under the carpet and there were no late payments ever made again.
At nineteen he started a degree in business studies before graduating from the Russian Law School three years later. Roman Kordinski and five of his university colleagues started a small company, which bought and sold crude oil and petroleum products from Iran and the USSR state run oil companies. By 1991 after a bumper year, and the collapse of the Soviet Union, they were in a position to float their company on the stock markets worldwide. The company was massively undervalued at just over 1-million dollars and the five friends bought their own stock at a huge discount between them. Roman and his best friend Yuki owned fifty percent of the stock. Roman had threatened a local bank manager to loan them the funds to facilitate the deal, however the bank manager refused to co-operate. Roman followed the banker’s wife to the local school where she was taking her son the next morning. As they crossed the road to the school gates Roman mowed the mother and child down in his grey Lada. The wife suffered multiple fractures, which kept her in hospital for six months. She was too ill to attend her son’s funeral. The bank manager had four other children to consider, and the next day the funds were made available for Roman to purchase the lion’s share of his own stock.
Seventeen years on he was riding in the back of a bulletproof limousine accompanied by nine armed bodyguards, on his way to the Russian embassy in Admiralty Square, London. Roman was summoned by the Russian Ambassador to a crisis meeting regarding his Russian businesses. The Russian government had always known that Roman had grossly undervalued the stock when it was floated. They also knew that he was responsible for the suspicious deaths and disappearances of the five other major shareholders. His close friend Yuki had died in a fire at his home four years ago. Despite the fact that the post mortem discovered the presence of cyanide in his charred remains a verdict of accidental death was recorded. Two other shareholders died together in an assassination attack, which was made to look as if it was conducted by Chechen Mafia men. The Chechen Mafia had denied all knowledge of any such operation and the finger of suspicion pointed back to Roman Kordinski. The last of the five oil pioneers had received a short prison sentence for tax evasion in Russia. The offence was minor but the Russian courts were making an example of a rich businessman flouting the tax laws. He was found in his cell beaten to death with his tongue cut out. The removal of the tongue is a traditional mafia tactic to identify a snitch. This unfortunate series of events left Roman Kordinski in the fortunate position of being one of the world’s richest oil tycoons.
Roman had embraced the opening up of the Soviet Union in 1991. He had used his wealth and influence to build one of the most ruthless, diverse criminal organisations ever known. Legitimate multi-million pound companies masked the more profitable drugs and people trafficking trade. He specifically advertised for, sourced and recruited ex-KGB and Spetsnaz (Russian Special Forces) personnel to operate his illegal operations. Between 1991 and 1998 the Russian Mafia gangs targeted commercially strong businesses for their protection and extortion rackets. The fragile Russian banking system was initially used to launder vast sums of dirty money. The natural next step was to control the banks themselves. 1993 saw the kidnap and murder of ten local Russian bankers, 1993 to 1998 saw a total of ninety-five more bank employees killed for refusing to co-operate with the Mafia gangs. Gang warfare was commonplace as battles for territory and lucrative protection contracts raged across Moscow and the fragmented Soviet satellite countries. Religion split the gangs further as Roman hired only Jewish personnel and the Chechen gangs were predominantly Muslims.
In November 1996 Paul Tatum was assassinated. He was an American millionaire hotel owner. He purchased the Radisson-Slavanskaya Hotel in Moscow with a Chechen business partner. Several threats to the American’s life were made when he refused to sell his half share in the hotel. He tightened his security, took to wearing a bulletproof vest beneath his business suit and surrounded himself with armed bodyguards. When his assassin struck his bodyguards did nothing to protect him as he was shot eleven times in the head and neck, the shooter obviously knew he was wearing a vest. Roman Kordinski was now a multi-billionaire. The problem was that the Chechen Mafia
was now stronger in Moscow than his Russian organisation. The Chechen gangs were pouring their profits into buying arms and munitions to supply the Chechen rebels in their fight for independence against Russia. To them the business was part of a Jihad, a religious war against Russian invaders. It made them more determined and brutal than Kordinski’s men, making Moscow a dangerous place for him to live. He had survived several assassination attempts and managed to avoid lengthy prison sentences by a mixture of bribery and intimidation.
Roman moved his operational base to the UK in an attempt to raise his profile as an international celebrity. It would be far more difficult for him to be assassinated in the West if he were in the public eye. In 2002 he purchased an ailing football club, and with his millions he attracted the brightest young talent available to play for them. He became a household name quickly across Europe and the West by donating publicly to popular charities. He made himself untouchable but he still maintained a heavy security presence wherever he went. Now he was arriving at the Russian embassy for a meeting he was anticipating since the day he moved west. The Russian President had bullied the Kremlin into constitutional changes, which outlawed the ownership or control of Russian assets from outside of Russia itself. Roman Kordinski was Polish by birth and could not return to Russia without fearing for his life or his liberty. The Kremlin had served him with a termination notice, which effectively returned all his stock options to the state. His business interests in Russia, which were worth billions, would not be worth a penny. He had ninety days to comply and handover the running of the companies to the Russian government. His oil company pumped twenty-five thousand barrels of crude oil per day, with ninety days left that equalled 2250000 barrels. He had to force OPEC (Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) to increase the cost of a barrel of crude oil significantly, to enable him to maximise his profits over the ninety days that he had left. That is the reason why he had arranged for the kidnapping of Jeannie Kellesh. The Saudis thought that she was dead, although no body was found. They would soon find out that she was in fact alive, however if they didn’t cooperate with Roman Kordinski then she wouldn’t live much longer.
Chapter 7
Matt Halt/ Bradford
Matt Halt sat in the driver’s seat of a stolen Mitsubishi Shogun, and considered his decision to defect from the 18th Brigade. He had the window open half way so that he could blow his cigarette smoke out of the vehicle. Matt was waiting for his new Russian boss Alexis, who hated the smell of stale smoke and always made a fuss about it. He was sweating and felt incredibly nervous as if he wanted to cry or laugh aloud like a lunatic. Matt Halt had joined the 18th Brigade after a short spell in Strangeway Prison for football hooliganism. He was just nineteen years old when he became involved in the culture of football violence, being tall and lean for his age he appeared older than his years. Most of the violence, which occurs at football, is arranged by rival gangs or ‘firms’ contacting each other and arranging a battle at a designated venue away from the prying eyes of the police and genuine football fans. The adrenalin rush Matt experienced every time he went into battle was unlike anything he had ever experienced before; it also gave him a sense of belonging, a family. He was unhappy as a young boy and eventually given into the care of his grandmother for safekeeping. Matt didn’t really fit in anywhere until he joined the 18th Brigade. He met two brigade members inside prison who also enjoyed football violence. They took him under their wing and protected him from older inmates, then upon release introduced him to their leader Pete Dodge. Six years on Matt had climbed the ranks of the Brigade and grown into a steroid mass. He worked as head doorman for several of the Brigade’s biggest clients, his intimidating size and penchant for violence had given him a fearful reputation. Matt’s problems had started when his ego became as large as his reputation was. His position in the Brigade brought him into contact with their Russian drug suppliers. During one meeting he was acting as a minder for Dodge when dealings became a little heated. No weapons were allowed into such meetings for obvious reasons; however a Russian bodyguard who was protecting Alexis produced a box cutter blade, which was hidden inside a fake credit card. Matt was impressed by the covert weapon, but he had no fear. He had snapped the Russians forearm like a twig, stepped on his head and carved the numerals 18 into the Soviet’s forehead with the man’s own blade. Matt always carried a hidden weapon after that day, usually in the form of a neck knife, which looked like an innocent pendant but concealed a blade within. Once the situation was controlled Alexis had taken Matt to one side and complemented him on his skills. Alexis told him that a man of his talents should be much further up the organisation than he currently was, earning a lot more money too. Matt had succumbed to his ego being stroked and started feeding Alexis with vital information from within the Brigade, culminating in the kidnapping of the Saudi girl, being party to the bombing of two hundred students, and murdering his friend and colleague.
Matt felt physically sick as he sat waiting for Alexis. His stomach was churning with nervous tension because he knew that he had crossed the point of no return. He had betrayed his friends in the 18th Brigade for the promise of power and money. There was no way back for him and he knew that when the Brigade realised that he had known about the bomb they would look for him. Dodge had told them to disappear for a couple of days after the kidnapping, but he would soon realise that they were not going to return. He had betrayed them and killed Ivan in the process; they wouldn’t rest until he was found. Now only Alexis and his Organizatsiya (organisation) could protect him from prosecution and the 18th Brigade. He lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply trying to gain some comfort from the warm smoke in his lungs, none came.
Matt sat up quickly when he saw a small Asian man leaving a terraced house opposite him. He recognised the man as Imran Patel, his target. Patel was a Pakistani immigrant who had entered the UK two years previously to marry a British Asian woman in an arranged marriage. He had become disillusioned with life in the West and started to travel around Britain to attend meetings with extremist Muslim groups. Some Mosques were more militant than others, but his activities had brought him to the attention of MI5. He was now on a watch list of 2000 possible terrorists. Alexis had informers within Britain’s intelligence services so acquiring the name and address of someone on the watch list was no problem. It was Imran Patel’s transit van that Matt had stolen one month before, the same van that Ivan had burned to death in. Alexis wanted the security services to assume the riverboat bomb was an act of Islamic extremism. Local uniformed police divisions had spoken to Patel regarding his stolen van, but they were not aware that he was on any MI5 watch lists, because the different agencies rarely swapped information effectively. Now it was time to cement the theory that Patel was indeed responsible for the bombing of the riverboat on the River Dee.
Matt jumped in fright when Alexis knocked loudly on the passenger window. He leaned over and unlocked the door allowing the Russian to climb in beside him. Alexis said nothing and nodded toward the Asian man waving with a gloved hand. Matt started the engine of the Shogun and slowly followed Patel along the road. Patel walked to the end of the street and turned left, a man stepped out of a doorway as he passed and followed at a distance. Imran Patel stepped from the pavement and crossed the road heading toward a newsagent. Alexis banged on the dashboard with his leather gloves, making Matt jump again.
“Now quickly hit him with the car, quickly,” Alexis growled his instructions to Matt, and Matt stepped on the accelerator. Patel heard the screeching of tyres but by the time he had realised they were heading in his direction it was too late. The Shogun hit Patel with enough force to knock him over the bonnet. The Russian who was tailing him moved quickly and grabbed Imran off the road. Alexis jumped out of the vehicle and assisted in shoving him into the back seat of the Mitsubishi.
“What are you doing? Let go of me,” Imran moaned confused. He was shaken by the impact but he was not seriously hurt. He looked around him and could
not fathom what was going on, two men were sat either side of him in the back seat of a strange vehicle. Alexis had sat to the Asian man’s right hand side and he punched him hard in the stomach knocking the breath from his lungs. Matt watched in the rear view mirror as the colour drained from Imran’s face. He looked small and very frightened. Alexi punched him again this time in the side of his head. The sickening blow made a dull slapping noise and the Asian man tried to curl up in a ball to protect his head from further blows.
“Who are you, why are you hitting me? What have I done?” Imran whined, starting to cry. He thought that these men were either racists carrying out a random attack or government agents trying to intimidate him because of his attendance at certain mosques. He had heard that MI5 were watching certain groups of Muslims, but he had never imagined that they would just snatch him off the street and assault him.
“Well my little Pakistani friend I have been told that you would like to become more politically active to help your oppressed Muslim brothers. I am going to give you that opportunity. You are going to become a famous martyr in the Islamic struggle just as you have always wanted,” Alexis sneered. He lifted his elbow above the Asians skull and drove it down with brutal force, Imran’s body went limp as he lost consciousness. Matt glanced in the mirror and saw the look of glee on his new employers face, he was not sure that he wanted to be on Alexis’ team anymore, but he was sure that he had no option. He had an idea what Alexis was planning to do with Imran Patel; it would make the riverboat bomb pale into insignificance.