Soft Target 02 - Tank

by Conrad Jones

  “Pilgrim one, there should be a lift fifty yards down the corridor to your right,” Tanks voice crackled, “the only other stairwells are in the occupied sectors of the hospital.”

  “That leads us back to the reception area. The corridors there are full of gurneys carrying wounded rebels,” answered Chen, “that’s a negative Tank it’s too dangerous.” Chen tapped Faz and nodded his head back toward the way they came. They limped quickly back toward the deserted nurses station. Chen pointed to a newly built cleaner’s cupboard. The door was wedged open with a half used bag of cement, and inside leaning against the wall was a double step ladder. Within thirty seconds they were climbing up the empty shaft toward the first floor. Grace reached the next level first, and she reached behind her to pull Chen up into the empty first floor corridor. The corridor mimicked the one beneath it so they were just yards from a set of double doors containing the same round glass windows as the ground floor had. There was a ward along a corridor but it was completely empty. At the far end of the corridor stood a solitary guard next to a door, which looked like it led to a single room, or side ward. His gun was not a Russian made Kalashnikov. It was an Israeli made Uzi 9mm.

  “Bingo Pilgrim one, we’ve located our patient,” whispered Grace. “We’ll establish her condition.”

  “Roger that Pilgrim one, what’s the security like?” Tank answered anxiously. He was answered with two static clicks, which indicated that a verbal response wasn’t possible. Faz and Chen were already moving into the private sector of the hospital.

  Chapter 49

  Khava Bararayeva/ Animal Kingdom

  Khava stood patiently in line waiting for the security check at the gate to the largest Disney theme park in the world. She had a rubber new born baby doll strapped to her chest in a baby harness. The dummies are so realistic that it’s almost impossible to distinguish them from the real thing. The Disney security guard cooed at the rubber child and commented on how beautiful it looked, after distinguishing what sex it was. That always seems to be the first question. What is it, a boy or a girl? Then it becomes he or she, and they are always beautiful. Has anyone ever been told their baby is odd looking? Or does anyone say how come the baby is not the same colour as your husband? New born babies bring out the innocence within us all, and that was exactly what Yasser Ahmed was counting on. The security guard checked Khava’s bag, but found only baby milk and spare nappies amongst the usual necessaries carried by parents the world over.

  Khava breathed a sigh of relief as she passed through the gate into the park. A wooden sign post stood in the centre of a tarmac area. To the right hand side was a mobility station, which rented electric scooters to less able people, to help them navigate around the huge theme park. That was what the scooters were for in theory. In truth the majority of its customers were fat people, who really needed the exercise, but couldn’t be bothered, walking in the heat. It often left the real less able people waiting ages for scooters to be returned. Khava thought that the large number of overweight people was just another example of Western decadence, as she watched them queue for the electric carts. Straight ahead of her was a section of dense tropical trees dissected by a wide pathway. She headed up the path into the trees. To the left were beautiful grey Macaw parrots perched in the trees. Khava stopped and stared at them open mouthed. She read the sign again and couldn’t understand why anyone would call them grey, because they were the most stunning parrots she had ever seen. They were the only parrots she had ever seen more to the point. Someone stood close to her and asked her what sex the baby was, prompting her to move away quickly. Khava could see the exit out of the trees up ahead, when she was struck by a powerful odour. To her right hand side was a rock pool, which acted as a barrier to prevent four pot bellied pigs from escaping into the general population of Animal Kingdom. The four fat pigs snuffled around their enclosure in what looked like a six inch layer of their own excrement. The smell knocked her sick and she gagged at the thought of eating pork. Christians ate it every morning, she thought, some of them will not eat it tomorrow morning, that’s for sure.

  As she left the wooded area she crossed an ornately carved bridge that spanned a man made canal. A mock steamboat was passing beneath her, occupied by the whole Disney clan playing musical instruments, conducted by the famous Mouse himself. Children pointed excitedly at the costume band and stood in awe of their first sighting of Mickey and his pals. Khava saw the sign for a roller coaster ride called Expedition Everest, which towered above the theme park across an artificial lake. The colossal imitation mountain stood three hundred feet high, and could be seen from miles around. A long rollercoaster appeared from a dark aperture at the top of the mountain and then roared down a terrifyingly steep slope before disappearing into the mountain again. She could hear the terrified screams of the ride’s passengers echoing across the lake. It seemed the obvious place to explode her bomb.

  Khava walked into the ladies restrooms and opened the door to a baby change cubical. She pulled the baby unit from the wall and placed her bag on it. After unzipping her carrier bag she removed three bottles of prepared baby milk, and then twisted off the teats. The bottles did contain milk, but it was added to a water gel explosive called Tovex. The majority of commercial blasting agents used for mining or demolition are now saturated aqueous solutions. It is the rapid displacement of solid explosive substances such as Semtex or dynamite, which has led to the banning of liquids being taken onboard commercial airlines. Water gel explosives can simply be poured into the bomb casing, and hey presto, you have complete devastation.

  On August 11TH 2006, British counter terrorist agencies discovered the worst terrorist plot ever encountered in the United Kingdom. The suspected plot involved targeting multiple aeroplanes simultaneously, using water gel explosives. Had the plot not been discovered it would have led to the most catastrophic loss of innocent civilian lives since the 9/11 attacks in New York. It is believed that al-Qaeda operatives planned to smuggle water gel explosives onto passenger aircraft using sports drink bottles. The foiled plan involved the terrorists dyeing the liquid explosive red to match the sports drink inside, and then sealing the top half of the bottle, so that on close inspection the bottles would appear to be unopened. The bottom half of the bottle would have water gel explosives injected into them. A detonator could be made by something as innocent as a camera flash or a mobile phone. Their plan was to explode the bombs while the planes were airborne over densely populated areas. England was immediately placed on red alert and airport security became chaotic as hand luggage was banned from all passenger aircraft. The investigation led to the arrest of twenty-four suspected terrorists, but it also highlighted the global shift to the use of liquid gel explosives.

  Khava twisted the head from the rubber doll, which was still strapped to her chest in her harness. She poured the liquid explosive Tovex from the baby bottles into the body cavity of the doll, and then she placed the empty bottles back in her bag. Gently she placed the head back on the rubber baby. Khava crossed the cubicle to the toilet, where she lifted the lid from the cistern. Taped inside the cistern was a plastic bag, which she removed. The bag was left by an accomplice, who was probably an employee at the park. She dried it and then placed it back onto the baby change unit. She ripped open the bag and spread the contents out. There were six bags of twenty-five cents coins, or quarters, each bag containing twenty dollars worth of metal coins. That made a total of four-hundred and eighty shiny pieces of shrapnel, which she poured into the doll to mix with the liquid explosives. She caught her reflection in the mirror and froze. Khava was amazed how old her reflection had become since losing her husband. The fine laughter lines around her blue eyes that her husband had found so attractive were now deep wrinkles. Dark circles curved under her eyes, and her face looked gaunt and grey. Her forehead was creased with deep lines, which furrowed when she frowned. She frowned a lot and rarely laughed nowadays.

  “I look like a woman who is damned,” she whisper
ed quietly to her reflection in the mirror. Modern Islamic terrorists are shaped by the world around them. They are not born terrorists. A hopeless feeling of injustice seeps into them over a period of time. If you then add the introduction or reinforcement of an ideology into the process, then people can be groomed and moulded into suicide bombers. The individuals feel that they can then overcome any feelings of wrong doing. The taking of innocent lives becomes the righting of a wrong and nothing more. Poverty and deprivation, combined with constant military invasion and injustice create real life Chechen Black Widows like Khava every day. For Khava it was time to leave this world and its constant pain behind.

  ‘The bad things she had seen were carved into every line on her face’ she thought as she turned from the mirror and opened the door.

  As Khava left the restroom the heat of the Florida sun struck her, like walking into a brick wall. The rubber baby had become very heavy now that it was filled with its deadly cargo. She passed a theatre called Bug’s Life and walked toward Dinoland, on her way to Expedition Everest. Khava jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her arm and she froze.

  “Sorry if I startled you ma’am but you seem to have left your bag in the ladies room,” said a Mexican lady, who was pushing a stroller. She handed the bag that contained the empty milk bottles and diapers to Khava, but Khava was still a little shocked. She just looked at the Mexican lady blankly, and she started to shake.

  “Your bag, I think that this is your bag,” the lady repeated smiling, “how old is your baby? Is it a boy or a girl?”

  “Oh thank you,” Khava composed herself, “it’s a boy. I mean he is a boy.” Khava grabbed the bag smiling and tucked it under her arm. She nodded twice and walked off quickly into Dinoland.

  The Mexican woman pulled her husband’s arm to attract his attention.

  “Did you see that baby? Its head was twisted the wrong way, I don’t even think that was a baby. We need to tell the police,” she ranted as the scenario dawned on her. Why would anyone have an imitation baby? It looked real except its head was at an impossible angle. Her husband didn’t have a clue what she was ranting about as she stormed off pushing the stroller through the crowds, looking for a policeman.

  There were no policemen in Disney but she saw a female security guard and her heart sank. The woman was dressed in a green safari uniform, which included a khaki safari hat with corks dangling from it. Donald Duck was emblazoned on the front of her hat. The female officer looked like she ate the Grand Slam breakfast at Denny’s diner every day, followed by pancakes and syrup, then lunch. She was sweating as she waddled through the crowd holding a large coke.

  “Officer there is a suspicious lady in the park. She has a rubber baby. At least I think its rubber. It could have been plastic, but anyways the head is twisted. That’s how I know it wasn’t a genuine baby. Don’t you think that’s weird? I mean who has a rubber baby unless there’s going to be trouble? You have to stop her at least,” the Mexican woman blurted out. The officer took a long sip on her coke and looked at the woman.

  “Could you say all that again for me one more time, but real slow so that I can understand,” she said, knowing that today was going to be one of those days, rubber baby indeed.

  Khava crossed the bridge over the lake that took her to the entrance gate for Expedition Everest. There was a sign, which explained that no food or drink was allowed, and also no children. Khava stopped in her tracks. The rollercoaster thundered out of the mountain above her. Its arrival was announced by the screams of its passengers. What next? Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion on the bridge. Khava watched an overweight woman wearing a cork hat trying to run over the bridge. She was running alongside a Mexican woman who was pushing her stroller at thirty-miles an hour whilst pointing toward Khava. The woman in the cork hat looked like some kind of Disney policewoman. She had a themed uniform to blend in with the atmosphere, but Disney didn’t make guns and the policewoman had hers drawn. Khava turned to look for an escape, but she could see men in uniforms running through the crowds from the other direction toward her. They too had their guns drawn. Bystanders watched open mouthed as the scene developed. No one was sure whether or not this was real or just another Disney show time performed by actors.

  “Don’t move lady, put your hands up where I can see them,” the female officer shouted. She was out of breath and really wanted her coke back, but she had dropped it when she realised the potential gravity of the situation. Khava turned slowly in a circle and assessed her options. The crowds had now parted around her leaving her exposed and isolated. The majority of the tourists were now running away from the scene in a panic. Memories of the Down Town Disney bombings the year before were still raw in people’s minds. Khava put her hand into her right hand pocket and removed a disposable camera. There was a thin wire filament running form the flash bulb into the body of the rubber baby bomb. A voice came from behind her demanding that she remain still but she ignored, and she started to edge slowly toward a group of tourists who were trapped in the queuing system that fed the rollercoaster.

  “Drop it now, you have three seconds,” another group of officers had cleared their way through the crowds, and she was now surrounded. She edged closer to the panicking tourists and they began to climb the barriers that penned them in. Chaos broke out as normal everyday people started to panic. Self preservation took over, and men trampled on women and children to escape. One man pulled another from the railings to speed his own escape, and the fallen man was swallowed beneath the panicked crowds and crushed to death.

  Khava felt an explosion of pain and blinding white light as a high velocity bullet smashed through her skull, and liquefied her brain. The momentary pain was indescribable, and the shock stunned her body into inactivity. She knew that all she needed to do was press the flash button and her mission was completed. She could join her beloved husband in heaven, and never be hungry again. For a moment her motor neurons reconnected, and she felt a twitch in her fingers. It wasn’t enough to detonate her bomb though, and the second, third and fourth high velocity bullets ripped what was left of her head from her shoulders. Her headless body slumped to its knees on the ground and remained in a bizarre kneeling position, with her hands around the rubber baby. She was still there when the bomb squad arrived forty-minutes later.

  Chapter 50

  Kizlyar/Mujahideen ‘vs. Terrorist Task Force

  Grace and Chen limped down the corridor toward the mercenary soldier, who was guarding the room that they wanted to enter. The mercenary stood straight and lifted his Uzi 9mm machinegun as soon as the two Mujahideen entered the corridor. This part of the hospital was designated to predominantly Russian cliental, exuberant prices were paid to treat patients, mostly gangland shootings or the odd plastic surgery procedure. The Mujahideen and local Dagestan casualties were treated on the lower floors for a few shekels. The rebels came to the hospital to have their wounded treated and to eat and rest. The nearby village helped them to rearm and resupply.

  Many of them brewed a noxious substance, which they drank to relax. It was opiate based and could have a hallucinatory effect if drunk to excess. The mercenary thought these two men that were approaching him had had too much to drink, and had wandered into the private sector by mistake. He knew that a number of Mujahideen fighters had arrived earlier that day under the cover of darkness. They always brought trouble with them.

  Grace pushed Chen gently away from her, and leaned her weight against the wall as if she were resting her injury a moment. The mercenary walked toward them curious as to what they were doing. Suddenly she hurled the crutch like a javelin, which struck the guard in the middle of his forehead knocking him over backward. Chen pounced on him like a cat and dropped his knee across the man’s throat smashing his larynx. There was a brief gurgling sound from his throat then he was still. They picked him up by his legs, and dragged him into the first floor cleaner’s cupboard. They bundled him and closed the door to hide the body. Faz tucke
d the Uzi into her waistband. They rushed to the doorway and peered inside. The man in the bed had had facial surgery recently, and lay unconscious attached to a drip feed. There was no sign of Jeannie Kellesh. Faz nodded to Chen and they moved as one down the corridor to the next room, which was empty. There was a double doorway leading into the next sector and Chen peeped through it. Two more mercenaries stood guard either side of a door, on the right hand side of the passageway.

  Faz pointed her index finger at the man on the left and then ran it across her throat in a slow slashing motion. The covert military language for I’ll kill the one on the left, you kill the other. She counted her fingers down in front of Chen’s face, three, two, one and they moved swiftly and silently. They pushed through the doors with Special Forces Glock pistols drawn. They were fitted with a three inch noise suppressor to the business end of the barrel, which quelled the sound of a high velocity round being fired. Faz’s gun spat three times, chest, chest and head. It’s called triple tap shooting and absolutely guarantees that your target will not get up and shoot back at you. Chen’s target collapsed in a heap next to the other mercenary with identical bullet holes in him.

  A quick glance through the door revealed the Saudi Princess. She was sedated and attached to a methadone drip. They dragged the dead soldiers into her room and stuffed their bodies behind the bed curtain, out of sight. Chen grabbed a towel from a white porcelain sink and mopped up the smeared blood trail with it.