Mudada

by M G Leslie

  There was a further pause before he said, “Yeah, they’re about to head up – get out Price.”

  Price meanwhile, was trying to copy data from the computer hard drive. He had inserted a USB stick in to the PC that would automatically collect all the data – but it was taking time. So when he heard the words, “Get out Price,” he threw caution to the wind and jammed a plumber’s wrench in to the PC case, ripping it open.

  Then with equal violence he inserted it between the casing and the computer hard disk and levered it out – breaking the screws that had been keeping it securely attached.

  His colleague spoke again, “Five seconds Price – they’ll turn the corner and see you in the office.”

  Price immediately dropped the computer case that was now a broken mess, and ran back in to the bathroom – stowing the disk in a tool bag they had brought with them.

  “Let’s go,” said Price in a low voice, so that only the four men, and Pete further down the road, could hear.

  The men walked calmly out of the bathroom, just as the security guard that he been walking up the stairs arrived and shouted at them, “What are you doing? Why is there still water everywhere?”

  Price started to explain, whilst the other men walked down the stairs – buying them time to get out of the house with the computer disk. “We need to turn the water off from the main connection point in the road.”

  “Why?”

  “All the connections and taps in here are broken,” he continued to explain. “There’s nothing we can do here – we’ve tried to reconnect the taps, but I think you can see – the pipes have been blown out.”

  The security guard, fearful of his boss, continued to question Price, “Why? What did you do?”

  “We’ll need to look in to that. The team were maintaining a valve down the road – I guess it must have released water at pressure.” Then pointing down the stairs, he said, “Let me go and ensure they get the water turned off – then we can figure out what happened.”

  The security guard didn’t speak, but nodded his agreement – so Price started to make his way down the stairs. However, just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, Mancilla, who was still busy shouting orders, turned around and looked at him.

  One look was all it took – he turned to his security guards and shouted, “Hold him – don’t let him move.”

  Price’s four accomplices heard this from outside the front door and immediately ran in to the road as fast as they could.

  Price, meanwhile, recognised the ‘knowing’ expression on Mancilla’s face, and thought, “Aarón must have talked.”

  Then as two men approached and tried to grab him he ducked to one side – kicking one man in the abdomen with full force – causing the man to drop to the floor in agony.

  The other man lunged forward as well – but Price side-stepped his attack as well – and using the man’s own momentum, pulled his arm and swiftly executed a judo move – throwing the man over his shoulder and across the room.

  Price was about to turn and follow the four men back out of the door when he felt a gun in the small of his back – so he stopped. Then, before he could speak, a sharp hit to the back of his neck caused his eyes to roll upwards and he passed out.

  Further down the road, Pete could not believe his eyes as the four men came running down the hill as fast as they could – closely followed by a group of security guards, who had now started to un-holster their guns and fire warning shots in to the air.

  Pete jumped in to the 4x4 and as soon as the men arrived, stamped on the accelerator and screeched away from the scene. Then, as they rounded the next bend he shouted, “Where’s Price?”

  “Mancilla recognised him,” one of the men replied. “As soon he saw him. He got his security to grab him.”

  Pete didn’t reply, but started to consider his options. That meant Aarón was either a double agent or he was dead – probably the latter. Either way, he had to do something. So, pulling over to the side of the road, he turned to the men. “Get changed and get back up there – I want round the clock coverage on that house in case they move Price. I’m betting they’ll want to question him and when they start to realise where he’s from, they will probably want to do that somewhere other than in that house.”

  “He’s probably dead by now,” said one of the men.

  “I don’t think so. Price is an imposing character – they’ll want to question him.”

  “Then he’ll give us all up,” said the man – almost in a state of panic.

  “No!” said Pete. “Not Price – that’s not an option. He’s tougher than you can possibly imagine. They’ll get nothing from him except abuse. Now get going!”

  The men still hesitated, so Pete shouted this time, “Move!”

  13. The Beginnings of Justice

  As he started to wake from a deep sleep, Price blinked his eyes, slowly acclimatising to the light – his brain registering consciousness and then an element of surprise that he was waking up at all.

  Once his eyes had fully focused, Price started to look at his surroundings – the beautifully soft cream leather chair, the low ceiling, the elliptically shaped windows, the sound of air rushing past, the faint drone of a jet engine in the background and then, “Oh hello – legs!”

  Price looked up to see the blonde stewardess smiling down at him. Then she spoke, “Coffee? And some breakfast?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you. Where are we by the way? Besides, in the air – obviously.”

  “I’ll let your friend explain.” Then she started to walk to the rear of the plane as Pete stood up and came in to view.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Bruised and beaten – but I’ll survive,” said Price as he took a sip of coffee. “How did I get here?”

  “What do you remember?”

  “I remember walking in to the house in Merida. We went upstairs, I grabbed the computer disk and we tried to make our way out as planned. I think the team made it out as they had a head start, whilst I kept the security guard chatting. Then as soon as I went downstairs I was stopped.”

  Price hesitated for a moment – then, in suspicious tone of voice said, “I was recognised you know.”

  He hesitated again to let the message sink in before continuing, “So anyway, they stopped me and tried to restrain me. There was a brief fight – which I won by the way. But I was heavily outnumbered and out-gunned – then someone hit me on the back of the neck.

  The next thing I remember is waking up hanging by my arms and vomiting everywhere. I was being questioned and smacked around a bit, then I guess I must have passed out again – and here we are.”

  Pete sat down across the aisle as Price tucked in to his breakfast. Then he started to speak. “As you say – you went in to the house and according to the men with you – who fled immediately they saw you in trouble by the way – I’m not proud of that – bunch of cowards. But anyway – they ran out followed by security – down the hill and we escaped in my 4x4.

  They reported that you’d been captured, so I put watchers on the place. My theory was – once they figured out you were British Intelligence, they might get nervous about keeping you in the house for fear of reprisals and decide to move you for questioning. And sure enough, a little while later, a convoy of four cars headed out the gates – our infrared cameras registering two bodies hidden the trunks of two of the cars – one alive and one probably dead, but still warm.”

  “The other one was Aarón I presume then?”

  “Yes. We found his body at the bottom of a precipice – he’d been tortured and shot in the head – I’m guessing, after giving you up.”

  Price was briefly tempted to say, “I’m sorry to hear that,” but decided not to – it was the job – he knew that and Aarón would have known that. That didn’t make it nice – but when he’d taken the job he’d accepted that it was a risk you take.

  After a brief pause, where both men seemed to have been reflecting on Aarón
’s death, Pete continued, “So we followed them obviously. They took you up in to the mountains of the Sierra Nevada where you were revived.

  I’m afraid we couldn’t get close, because they had a huge amount of security surrounding them – but we managed to see you from a distance. As you say, they strung you up by your wrists and injected you with something – we presumed adrenalin or something similar – to kick your body in to action.

  Then they swung you out over a precipice and started beating you with what looked like a cane of some kind. I think they had some electrical gear as well.”

  “Yeah, I vaguely remember being electrocuted. I think that’s what made me throw up,” said Price in between mouthfuls of toast.

  “I presume they were asking you who you were and what you were doing?”

  “Yeah, now you mention it, I remember that. It was nothing you wouldn’t expect. I think I told them I was a monk and God would strike them down for abusing me. It didn’t go down very well – no sense of humour, some people. But please, do go on.”

  “I had a couple of snipers aimed at the man torturing you. There was no way we could get you out, because they would have seen us approaching and could easily have cut us off. But the way I figured it, if they were going to kill you, we’d take them out as well.”

  “Thank you,” Price interrupted.

  “The snipers were waiting for me to give them approval to fire, when we saw you pass out – at least we saw your head fall forward. We weren’t sure if they had just knocked you out from the electrical charge, or killed you and were going to cut the rope and drop you down with Aarón. But to our surprise, an argument broke out with quite a bit of pushing and shoving.

  Mancilla appeared to be shouting at the men – certainly he was waving his arms around a lot. Anyway, two of the cars full of security guards, including the man that had been beating you, drove off. Then a short while later, you were thrown back in to the trunk of one of the remaining two cars, at which point they started to make their way back down the mountain.

  We hastily put a plan together and found a spot overlooking the road where we had a good view from above and access from the side. As the two cars appeared we hit the first one with three RPG’s – totally destroying it.

  Then we hit the second car, with you in the trunk and Mancilla in the back, with another RPG. It was aimed to explode under the front bumper – or as close as we could get it anyway – and if I say so myself, it wasn’t a bad shot. It literally picked up the front of the car and almost flipped it over backwards – although in the end you actually landed on your side.”

  Expecting Price to ask why they had used RPG’s, Pete added, “We’d expected the cars to be armoured, so that’s why we went in heavy.”

  Price didn’t comment – he’d already assumed the same himself and wasn’t in the least bit surprised. So Pete continued, “A couple of guards got out of the car and managed to get Mancilla over to the side of the road where they took cover as we sent in two guys to retrieve you from the trunk.

  I have to admit – they were well trained and well armed. We could have launched more RPG’s at them, but that would have just killed him and we really wanted him alive. But we couldn’t get close – any hint of movement in their direction and they were all over us. Then we heard on the radio that a dozen more cars were on their way, so we hit the road, fast.”

  Price finished his breakfast – took another sip of coffee and then said, “And here we are.”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you for saving my life and for a lovely breakfast. This is very nice coffee by the way,” said Price with a smile.

  “You’re most welcome.”

  Price gave the tray, with what remained of his breakfast on it, to the stewardess, and said, “So where are we going? And where, or should I say, whom, did you get this stunning aircraft from?”

  “The stunning plane as you put it, is a Bombardier Global Express 6000 which I borrowed from the US’s DEA. It is rather nice isn’t it?”

  “Very.”

  “We’re heading for Miami. They agreed that it wouldn’t be safe for you to stay in Merida and they owed me a favour.”

  “Tell them I owe them a favour. The only pity is, I didn’t get a chance to see that cable car – another time perhaps.”

  Pete was astonished and said as much, “I can’t believe you. You were pretty much dead a few hours ago – strung up by your arms – and now you’re wondering about a bloody cable car!”

  “Oh sorry,” said Price, “I didn’t mean to pretend it never happened – but I’ve moved on – that was something that happened. Obviously, I’ll look back on it when I write my report and see if I made any mistakes I should learn from. But for now, it’s just something that happened – it’s over – it’s done – it’s a piece of history.”

  “How can you be quite so cold?”

  “Either that or I go nuts mate – did you find anything on the computer disk?”

  Pete just stared at Price in amazement, so Price, almost laughing, said, “The disk? The one the men had in their bag? Anything on it?”

  Pete picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to Price. “Yes of course, here’s a summary of the useful information. There’s a name on there that was a bit of a surprise – nobody else has seen this except you and me.”

  Price took the paper, read the name and said, “Keep it that way – this stays with you and me.”

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I thought it was him all along – I just needed more proof.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you later. How long have we got until we land?”

  “Couple of hours.”

  “Good. Have we got any Comms kit on here?”

  “Sure what are you after?”

  “Internet access really – just wanted to book my flight home mate.”

  “I’m sure we can do that. Any preference?”

  “Virgin.”

  “The airline or your desired companion?”

  Price laughed, “Both preferably. But I’ll settle for my favourite airline.”

  A couple of hours later they arrived in Miami where Pete met the local DEA officers who helped them both avoid the formalities of US immigration – courtesy of hastily arranged, diplomatic passports. Then after an overnight stay in an airport hotel, they met again the next morning at the Virgin Atlantic Check-in desk.

  Price checked himself in and turned to Pete, “I need a favour.”

  "Mate, I think you've used up your favour quota for the decade – I'm in debt with the DEA and very soon I’m going to have SIS in London asking me to file a report explaining what the hell happened in Merida, and how I messed up a long term operation to track and control drugs trafficking to the UK."

  Price just smiled, "it's far worse than that. I'm not only asking you to do something that hasn't been approved – I'm asking you to do it in a region outside of your jurisdiction. If you're caught, you'll most likely be shot as a traitor by your own side – never mind the opposition who, we already know, have killed one of our colleagues already and nearly killed me."

  "Oh well, if you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse. Please do continue – this sounds like fun."

  "I need you to go to Mozambique – a friend of mine will be arriving any day now."

  "Why don't you ask Doug – I know you two are pretty tight?"

  "My friend doesn't know Doug and will get nervous with a strange face."

  Pete looked surprised, "And I know you friend?"

  "Yes. You met many years ago – although you only know his codename.”

  “Which is?”

  “First Class."

  Pete just managed to stop himself shouting with surprise, "First Class? But..."

  "Yes," said Price interrupting. "I know what you're thinking – it's a very long story – and I won’t go in to all the details now. But I need you to collect First Class and take him to London
– discreetly – I don't want the border agencies alerted."

  "Ok. I’m confused – obviously. But sure – no problem – consider it done.”

  “Once you get to London, tell First Class to go to The Town of Ramsgate – I’ll be there at 7am for 30 minutes on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s.”

  “Ramsgate? That’s a town on the coast.”

  “This isn’t – he’ll know what I mean. Just pass on the message exactly as I said it please – and be sure to call it The Town of Ramsgate OK?”

  “Fair enough mate. What are you going to do?"

  "Me? Enjoy Virgin Upper Class and a few Bloody Mary's of course – it’s the only way to travel."

  "Whilst I fly half way around the world and back again in order to deliver someone to what I presume is a strip-joint of some kind!”

  Price laughed, “It isn’t a strip-joint – you’re not even close. In fact it’s actually very nice. But yes – something like that. Think of the air miles."

  Pete held out his hand and they shook hands, "Take care my friend."

  "And you – oh and, thanks again for saving my life."

  "Any time."

  As the sun rose over London, the Chief of Staff walked in to the Chief's office, "Morning Sir."

  "Good morning," replied the Chief, as he picked up a mug of coffee from his desk. "Give me the headlines."

  The Chief of Staff sat down and started to provide a very brief update on major MI6 operations around the world – focusing on things that had changed from the previous day. Then, as he was about to finish, he said, "News from the DEA in Miami – Price boarded a Virgin Atlantic flight to London a few hours ago."

  The Chief looked up from his coffee, "And?"

  "Looks a bit worse for wear apparently. Looks like he's had thorough going over – but it's ok – word is, it was one our guys that put him on the flight – our man in Caracas, Pete – who has since vanished off the face of the earth himself, I might add."