“Max, keep them covered at least I can trust you. Now then Jack, tell your bosses to hold off….now!”
“Are you sure?” Replied Grey. Turning round, Bruenstein suddenly found himself staring at his partner who for no reason at all, turned his weapon onto him,
“What the hell?!…You’re one of them!!”
“No I’m not. I’m not one of MI5.”
The event puzzled West and Hudson as much as it did Bruenstein. With the commotion in the background, the penthouse suite and conference space was about to be infiltrated at any moment, but the situation was more confusing as ever,
“Who the hell are you then?” Demanded Jack,
“Bruenstein knows.” He replied, but the terrorist was in the dark. Vigorously pointing his gun, first at West, then at Grey he wanted answers,
“Know what?”
“Did you really think we would just give up on you? Even with this plot going on? We always pursue rogue agents in the National Clandestine Service.”
Suddenly the penny dropped, and it hit Bruenstein like a train,
“The National-…. You’re CIA!….you’re a CIA agent!!!”
“Specialising in covert operations. Both the CIA and the FBI want to interrogate you if captured alive. This was the only way to trap you sir, now lover your weapon.”
“What the hell is going on!!” Asked John,
“I assure you I knew nothing of this.” Said Jack, “Look I don’t know what’s going on here, but if he’s interrogated, then he’s in our custody.”
Without taking his eyes off his target, Grey responded,
“I appreciate that, but we have been tracking him for a lot longer, I’m authorised to take down the target by any means sir.”
But Victor Bruenstein was not going to have any of it,
“What you think I’m just going to give up like that?” He raised the mobile, immediately frightening Jack,
“PUT THE PHONE DOWN!” He shouted,
“See you in hell.”
The computers were working overtime in Thames House as Harvey presided over the operation,
“Come on we’re out of time!!” He shouted to the operatives,
“I’ve hacked into the network. I’m sending a remote text, ‘8878’, that’ll block the app functions.”
“Do it.”
“Sending now.” A few well timed clicks on the keyboard sent the text to the device that Bruenstein was holding. Now all they could do was wait.
Chapter 27:
With all four men on the top floor of River View pointing guns at each other, the plan had lost all clarity. Only one thing was clear, Bruenstein had control over the impending destruction of the building,
“Wait!!” Jack said trying to buy some time, a few desperate moments as he wondered where the SAS were. With Grey looking on, Bruenstein was not going to give up; he pressed the button on the phone. It beeped but did nothing, the code signal to detonation blocked from an outside source; Victor Bruenstein’s last gamble had failed,
“You’ve got nothing left.” Said Jack,
“Fuck you!!” Bruenstein raised his gun to fire as John lunged to his side in a split second reaction. Grabbing his partner, his arms wrapping around his chest, he pulled Jack to the ground with every inch of strength assisted by gravity. The high calibre pistol shot out an almighty bang as the terrorist fired, the bullet missing the two intelligence men by just centimetres to spare.
Hearing the shot at Thames House froze everyone. Had West or Hudson been hit? Harvey wanted to ascertain for sure,
“Alphas 1 and 2, report! Alphas come in!! If you can hear me, get rid of Bruenstein, take him out! Kill him!!”
Grey reacted himself, not by firing; his orders did not permit that. Forcing himself forward he lunged at the big man grabbing his arm vainly trying to wrench the pistol out of his hand. Recovering from their heap, both West and Hudson looked on as Grey and Bruenstein fought hand to hand in a vicious struggle, they both wanted to do something but what? The sounds of the SAS storming upwards to their location was now louder than ever, they must be on the same floor by now,
“Alphas 1 and 2, status?” Harvey barked across the airwaves desperate to find out what was going on. Attempting a response West tried to shout a reply,
“Control, Alpha 1 here, we-‘
He didn’t have time to finish, the SAS burst in, guns pointing at everyone,
“DON’T SHOOT!!!!” John shouted, putting his hands high in the air as the men stormed in guns pointed, itching to fire. Only the crucial training prevented the reflex from pulling the trigger.
With Grey on top of him, Bruenstein pointed his pistol at the SAS men as they came into the room instantly attracting a response. It was clear he was trying to fire as Grey grabbed his arm in a vain attempt to deter him from firing but the risk was too great, was his firearm still loaded? Nobody wanted to find out,
“CONTACT!!!!” One of the squad members shouted as at least three of them fired at close range into the two men. Bullets rattled out and spent cartridges clinked on the cold hard floor one after the other as the shooting persisted, both bodies flinching and shuddered under the impact of each entry wound. Blood spattered out and flew like spray in the massacre, only ceasing once the SAS had emptied their magazines.
The silence deafened everyone and for a second nobody dared flinch until John slowly got up to make the first move. Steadily walking over to the two men, each covered in blood, it was clear both Maxwell Grey and Victor Bruenstein were dead. The criminal’s eyes, still open stared out in a hypnotic lifeless gaze off to the left hand side, no longer a threat to anyone. Grey beside him, lay face down soaked in large pooling of blood and completely motionless,
“Alphas report, we’ve heard gunfire. What’s your status?” Asked Harvey
“Control this is Alpha 2. We’re fine; Bruenstein and Grey are both dead.”
Listening on in relief, Harvey and everyone else knew that thankfully the threat was now at last, finally over,
“Acknowledged Alpha 2. We’ve just had word the police and army are diffusing the remaining bombs now. Congratulations, and well done everybody.” Turning to the Home Secretary who had been here throughout the drama, he issued his final instruction,
“You can tell the Prime Minister to instruct the Palace. Evacuation Plan Teresa no longer needs to be implemented. Instruct them to stand down.”
Back in River View, John was still knelt over the two dead bodies. Turning partially to the lead SAS squad member, and no longer caring about confidentiality he revealed the truth,
“Congratulations, Grey wasn’t who he said he was. We’ve just killed an American agent.”
Epilogue
Victoria Park, Central London 19:00pm the next day seemed quiet on the small grassy hill overlooking the capital. Standing still in the orange glow of the evening light, Jack was the most immobile object there. Looking south the skyscrapers of the city, the financial hub of London stood tall, reflecting the last rays of a glimmering, but defiant sunset bursting low through the clouds on the horizon. He watched as they lit up, ready to define the night skyline as beacons of a capitalist Western world; at least that was how it seemed to him. He wasn’t concentrating, just staring into the middle distance as he soaked up the peacefulness; a welcome turnaround from the events of the last few days. Failing to notice a black car approaching, pulling up gently approximately one hundred yards away, Jack never turned round to see the black coated figure get out and walk toward him finally stopping side by side to admire the view,
“It’s always quiet up here.” He said, causing Jack to turn his head,
“Yes Harvey.”
“You OK?”
Jack wasn’t sure, “I was wondering. Why do we do this job?”
Harvey thought on philosophically, “It’s a thankless task I’m afraid. The public don’t know we exist, yet we save their lives more often than we care to mention.”
Jack agreed as Harvey continued, “The gov
ernment have issued a statement acknowledging an incident, but they’re not going into details as well as refusing to link it to the Kings Cross bombing. They are saying they don’t comment on security matters.”
“A typical politician’s response.” Jack replied, Harvey continued,
“Look regarding Maxwell Grey-‘
“I thought you’d get to that.”
“Well….on Maxwell Grey, I want to assure you that I knew nothing of his true identity. Although I must admit I found out he was the source of most of the intelligence we received regarding this case. Part of our relationship with the Americans you see.”
“Grey? He was the source of everything?” West asked confusingly,
“Well most of it, apart from a few well-placed bugs and phone taps here and there….but essentially yes. Things we discussed in that meeting with John did come from Grey.”
Jack suddenly felt like it all made sense at last, although it was hard to be believed,
“I can’t believe Grey was one of us…. Maxwell Grey, a CIA agent!! But how the hell did he come to be in Bellmarsh?”
“Apparently he was a penetration agent.”
“What?!”
“Deep cover planted into a situation and then takes on the role as if they were living it.”
“But that’s all Cold War stuff.” Replied Jack,
“Doesn’t mean to say it still doesn’t happen. Do you think we don’t have a home or foreign network either?”
Jack saw it made sense, “What will the Americans do next now that we have killed one of their own?”
“Nothing. What can they do? Acknowledging his existence means compromising their own network. I don’t think even the Americans will risk doing that.”
Jack then tried to probe further, “There’s something I don’t still understand.”
“What?”
“Who were Bruenstein’s men? Who was it that I tracked in the underground tunnels and who we fought in the docklands?”
“We’re still verifying that.” Replied Harvey, “We think they were home grown terrorists, recruited from the criminal underworld gangs that permeate this city. Operation Moonlight and Sunshine before it will be closed and declared a success.”
Staring out across the city landscape, the street lights began to glow, the buildings twinkling in the evening twilight,
“Can anyone ever really be trusted? I know now how John felt in the earlier stages of the investigation.”
“Look that is the intelligence community all over. Everything is connected to everything else; it’s not safe, nor necessary to know who our contacts or handlers are. Just do the job, follow your instructions, that’s all.”
Jack shrugged. He understood, but Harvey could clearly see that he didn’t agree. A slight pause ensued before Harvey came closer to reveal one last piece of information,
“Jack, I’m going to share something with you. What I’m about to say is classified, bound by the Official Secrets Act do you understand?”
Looking his superior in the eye, he nodded, Harvey carried on,
“You mentioned Cold War stuff. Well back in the 1970’s the USA and the Soviet Union signed a number of treaties named SALT, there were two, SALT I and SALT II, the second one signed between President Carter and Leonid Brezhnev in 1979.”
“Yes I’ve heard of them.” Replied Jack, Harvey continued on,
“By 1987, the two nations established a further treaty, the INF or Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty signed between President Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev in December of that year, ratified the following May. It was designed to control and reduce each other’s nuclear arms stockpiles, prevent any potential escalation to World War III. The last thing anyone wanted at that time was the Warsaw Pact and NATO hurling nuclear bombs at each other.”
“Yes I remember the INF treaty. What’s this got to do with anything?” West replied as Harvey continued straight to the point,
“When the USSR collapsed in December 1991 following on from the failure of the Soviet Coup in August that year, the entire Russian stockpile of nuclear weapons was placed under strict control by the International Atomic Energy Agency, the IAEA. They registered and oversaw the decommissioning of the Soviet arsenal, which was still substantially bigger even after all the treaties. All of these nuclear warheads were taken out….except four.”
Jack turned fully toward Harvey, he knew what he was about to say,
“What?!!”
“That’s right. The IAEA are aware of the whereabouts of all but four. These were not registered, and subsequently disappeared. Three of them plutonium and one uranium; each with an explosive yield of around 150,000 tonnes of TNT, about the same as the atomic bomb the Americans dropped on Nagasaki in 1945. So somewhere in the world there are four old nuclear warheads, and to this day nobody knows where. Call it bad management if you like-‘
“That’s an understatement.” Jack cut in again,
“Can you imagine what would happen if one of those things ever got in the wrong hands? Any legitimate target could be taken out, thousands, even millions wiped out in an instant, thousands more infected with radiation burns and poisoning. Just because the Cold War never descended into the Third World War it doesn’t mean it could never happen.”
The revelation was stark to Jack, he could see now that the threats never really had gone away. Harvey spoke on,
“You see that’s why we are so vital in this business. We are the thin line between those who want to kill us and those who we swore to protect. As I said it really is a thankless task, nobody knows we are here, yet the public absolutely relies on us. We vow to protect the innocent and it is a mandate we have to stick through whatever the cost, even if it is our lives.”
Jack looked at Harvey and smiled,
“Look Jack, The conversation we’ve just had, everything I’ve just told you is secret. You are never to repeat it understand?”
“Yes, perfectly. What conversation?”
“Good, then I’ll leave you. I trust you are still fit for active service, so I’ll see you in Thames House tomorrow.”
“You will.” Assured Jack as Harvey walked away to his car leaving Jack to return to his thoughts. The city lit up causing a faint glow throughout the skyline,
“What was that all about?” He heard a voice behind him say. Turning round just as John arrived to join him, “Anything I should know about?”
“Nothing important, just a few words of encouragement.”
The two men spent a few moments looking out over the capital,
“Close run thing at one point.” Remarked John,
“Yes. But we got there in the end.” Said Jack,
“King’s Cross will be refurbished and reopened in a few weeks. I think they were looking for an excuse to renovate.”
Jack smiled, “Yes I suppose so.”
“How about a drink? I know a fabulous little all-night bar.” Asked John,
“We have work in the morning.”
“Oh come on. I’ll buy you a brandy.”
Jack was tempted, “Actually I’ll have a beer or two. I think the people are safe for a few hours don’t you think John?”
They began walking down the hill toward the main road, “Yes…I think they’ll be alright.”
For now everything was safe and secure once more. It was a great relief.
Three Faces of West (2013) Page 33