Underground Murmurs (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 2)

by Tim Jopling

  ‘Sir, its Olsen; back at Ops. To give you an update on tonight’s events, we’ve secured Baldon House. Three attackers were found; all K.I.A. We have found a blueprint that I’m running through the databases, together with a damaged laptop. I’m going to need Jordan back here ASAP to make a start on retrieving data from the hard drive. Any luck your end, sir?’

  ‘Possibly. I’m having everything analysed; there’s a chance something might come up. I’m sorry to say Burton’s betrayal ran deeper than we all thought. Even I wasn’t expecting it.’ Ramsey started to feel more confident about the threats. ‘This blueprint…have we found a match or…’

  ‘Nothing yet sir, but I’m sure we will. This is a massive breakthrough.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll be back soon.’ Ramsey put away his mobile and looked back for the last time at Burton’s flat. His feelings of sympathy had now all but disappeared; in their place were anger and dismay. How could one man so thoughtlessly sell his soul? He thought. It just didn’t make any sense.

  Chapter 8

  Thursday, July 26th 10:00,

  Bordon, Hampshire.

  With its hushed silence and each house hugged by a beautiful group of trees, the small cul-de-sac in Bordon, Hampshire, certainly looked quiet. With only eight houses, a handful of parked cars and no traffic, it didn’t seem to warrant having two Government agents from MI6 in close proximity.

  To the experienced S.U.C.O. agent Don Sampson, there didn’t appear to be any threat. Experience had taught him never to relax and become complacent so, Sampson looked out from his parked grey Audi A4 and surveyed the street again. He felt a surge of adrenaline as the headlights of a light blue Ford Escort appeared in the rear view mirror but he watched it pass by and turn off onto the main road. He took a note of the registration plate just in case but didn’t regard it as anything significant.

  Sampson’s thoughts turned to his fellow S.U.C.O. agents and couldn’t help but feel he would be of more use in London fighting the threat. If it had been anyone else that had requested his presence in Hampshire, he would have made sure of doing just that. It hadn’t been just anyone asking, though; Sam Olsen had personally requested they protect his wife and her family. Sampson had known Olsen for many years and knew how hard it was for him to trust people. His request was not one to turn down, as only the privileged would be asked.

  Sampson, a stocky dark skinned man of around 6’, pulled out his radio and spoke into the receiver. ‘Jas, talk to me.’

  From the first floor bedroom window, in the detached 4-bedroom semi of Rachel Olsen’s sister, Agent Jason Miller adjusted his brown suede jacket and looked out at the end fence of the garden with his binoculars. With nothing of interest to see, he took his radio from his belt and replied, his eyes scanned the garden, which was immaculate and currently bathing in sunshine. ‘All quiet here Don, anything happening your end?’

  Sampson shook his head as he spoke. ‘Nothing so far. Stay focussed though. We’ll change over at…11:00 hours.’

  ‘Copy that. 11:00.’ He placed the radio back on his belt and took out his ringing mobile phone. ‘Miller.’

  Olsen sat in Operations Command at MI6 and heard the familiar voice of his trusted colleague. A wave of relief spread through him; his wife and her sister’s family were still safe. ‘Jas it’s me. Everything ok there?’

  Miller smiled faintly at the sound of his team leader. ‘All ok here Sam. Don is outside keeping watch and I’m in the house. Don’t worry, everything’s under control.’

  Olsen tried to maintain his concentration but found it hard going with the continued hustle and bustle of Operations Command. Technicians were all around him, analysing the map team S.U.C.O. had recovered from Baldon House. ‘That’s all I want to hear. Is Rachel there?’

  ‘Sure, hold on a sec.’ Miller walked through to the next room and found Rachel Olsen sitting alone at the dining table with a cold mug of tea in front of her. The young woman looked miles away. ‘Excuse me, Mrs. Olsen, I have your husband on the phone for you.’

  Rachel came back to reality instantly and took the phone from the bearded man in front of her. ‘Thank you. Sam, are you ok?’

  Olsen closed his eyes and smiled; just the sound of his wife’s voice filled him with joy. It was only at that moment he realised how much he had missed her and without knowing, had forced himself to shut away his feelings of love. Olsen cursed the job for it but still felt conflicted inside. He loved his wife with all his heart but did he love his job more? No, no, that wasn’t possible but there was no doubt he had enjoyed being back in the role he had walked away from.

  ‘Sam, are you there?’

  ‘Rach…you’ve no idea how good it is to hear your voice. Are you doing ok, baby? I hope Sampson and Miller are looking after you and your sister.’

  Rachel looked out at the back garden. ‘They are, it’s nice to have them here but I’d rather have you by my side. What’s going on in London? The attack was all on the news.’

  ‘I’ll be home soon Rach, I promise. Things are going well here. We have a lead and things are looking good.’

  ‘But the attack, Sam…’

  Olsen’s tone hardened, not wanting to talk about a time where the terrorists had gotten the better of MI6. ‘Was a tragedy Rach but since S.U.C.O. has been reactivated we have the upper hand; believe me. Just stay where you are and all this will blow over in a matter of days.’

  ‘You sound like you’ve got back into the swing of things.’ An image of her husband with a gun in his hand came to the forefront of Rachel’s thoughts and sent a shiver down her spine.

  Olsen’s voice softened slightly. ‘It’s the same old thing Rach, just don’t worry, we’re going to stop them and then I’ll be home. You believe me don’t you?’

  Rachel closed her eyes for a moment. More than anything, she wanted to believe the man she loved but from the tone of his voice, Rachel could tell instantly he was enjoying doing his old job again and getting in over his head. There was no denying it, she knew her husband too well. Rather than argue on the phone, Rachel just wanted to be on her own. ‘I believe you, just come back to me as soon as you can. Bye.’

  ‘I love you, I’ll talk to you soon.’ Olsen put down the receiver and watched the technicians scurry around, hoping a breakthrough was coming very soon.

  Rachel put the phone down on the table and looked out at the soft lighting in the garden. A feeling of helplessness hit hard. She wanted to travel to London and drag her husband away from everything but in her heart, she knew that even if she did go he wouldn’t go willingly. Where did that leave their marriage?

  ‘Sam, over here!’ Carter was hunched over one of the main analysis computers that had been running the extensive search for a match of the blueprint.

  Olsen rushed over. ‘Anything?’

  Carter continued to study the information in front of him. Over time, he had calmed down as to how Olsen had obtained the lead but was now determined to keep a closer eye on his friend. ‘We have a match. The results are just coming out now.’ They both walked over to the nearby laser printer and Carter took the results page from the tray and studied it for a second. ‘Ok, according to this; that half of the blueprint matches one of four London Underground stations.’

  Olsen raised his thick black eyebrows and felt surprise at the news. ‘Underground stations?’

  ‘The very same. The blueprint matches Tufnell Park, Down Street, Parsons Green and Kilburn Park. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Carter said with a smile.

  ‘A disruption to the London Underground network, causing havoc for the thousands that will be flooding into London to attend the opening ceremony to the Olympics?’ Olsen questioned.

  ‘Sounds about right to me.’

  Olsen walked over to the large display near the conference table and rounded up his team of elite agents, together with Jordan who walked through the double doors of Operations Command. ‘You doing ok, Alex? We all heard about Burton.’

  Jordan lo
oked a little down but otherwise ok. ‘I’m ok Sam, regardless of what Burton did to us all it was still sad to see what happened to him.’

  ‘Well, we’re all glad you’re back with us.’ He called up a map of the tube network from the main database and attempted to search for the stations revealed on the analysis results. The computer highlighted all four stations on the map. Speaking in a commanding tone, he addressed his team. ‘Listen up everyone. The blueprint we recovered from Baldon House has come through and matches one of these four London Underground stations.’

  Carter spoke. ‘Parsons Green and Kilburn Park are some way from central London. If they’re going to target the Olympics we should discount those.’

  Everyone agreed.

  Jordan cut in, ‘you said there were four matches? Only three are displayed.’

  Olsen made an adjustment. ‘The fourth is called Down Street. It was closed decades ago. It’s located between Hyde Park Corner and Green Park station.’ A symbol appeared on screen. ‘Right about there.’

  Carter came closer to look. ‘They might be able to access the Central line from there, which leads to Stratford. If it’s closed, is it still accessible?’ Nobody made a comment.

  Olsen looked up from the display. ‘I think we need to get someone here who knows what they’re talking about. It sounds good in theory, you may well be right. Dan, get in touch with London Underground. We’re going to need an expert on this matter for Down Street station in particular. I want the resource from London Underground to meet us there. Understood?’

  Carter complied and made his way to the nearest phone.

  ‘The rest of you, stay here and do what you can to investigate this further. Call GCHQ and get some more info. Jordan keep working on the damaged hard drive, you’ll be in charge until we get back. What’s the progress so far?’

  ‘The laptop itself was badly damaged, so that got binned. The hard drive is a wreck too. I’ve hooked it up to a decryption program and there’s a good chance I’ll be able to salvage fifty percent of the contents. The data stream was so badly damaged I have to rebuild it from scratch. What the result will be is anyone’s guess, although there will hopefully be something of use. It’s not going to be easy though. Not only is the data stream a wreck, which means it needs to be put into the correct order, `it’s encrypted as well.’ Jordan felt proud to be working on the most prominent lead in the investigation so far and felt more a part of S.U.C.O. than ever before.

  ‘Okay, just keep at it. What sort of encryption are we talking about here? Unbreakable codes?’

  Jordan shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. If I can sort the data back into its correct order, it’s my view that it’s an encryption that can be broken. It certainly appears that way on the surface.’

  ‘So how do we break that code?’

  ‘Well, that’s problem. We need the code-breaker or the decryption key, which is most likely embedded into the source code itself. Finding it will take time.’

  ‘Only with the code-breaker can we decipher the data? Nothing else?’

  ‘Without the code-breaker we’re talking weeks if not months. Maybe never. It’s possible there is more than one decryption key but it’s hard to say. If we find it, then we have the key and the data is ours in theory.’

  Olsen smiled faintly, trying to keep up with Jordan’s update. ‘Right. I want you on this as much as possible, I’m convinced whatever is on that disk is going to be the turning point.’ He made his way to the store to help Carter and remembered all the times the technical expert had proven himself in the past. He felt confident he would deliver once more. ‘All set, Dan?’

  Carter emerged carrying equipment and eyed up his friend. Walking into a dangerous area with a man who had already lost control once worried him greatly. Did he trust Olsen with his life? He was sure of it. Would he be able to stop Olsen if he lost control again? Seconds passed and the question continued to linger as he didn’t want to admit the truth to himself. ‘I’m set.’ He said quietly. ‘A Miss Lorna Reed from London Underground will be outside the location of Down Street station. What’s left of it, anyway. She’s supposed to be some sort of expert.’

  Deane got into the parked cream coloured Lada car and adjusted his dark blue jacket as he look out on his surroundings.

  A hot and muggy June day in St. Petersburg presented itself, as the Russian summer geared up to its usual sweltering climax. St Petersburg, Russia’s most elegant city, is located in northwest Russia on the delta of the River Neva. Founded in 1703, Russia’s second largest city and former capital has a population of just under five million and is known as ‘The Window on the West’. The city was built on marshy lands where the River Neva joins the Gulf of Finland. St Petersburg holds one of the country’s major seaports and rail junctions and is a tourist favourite for its glamorous city and many attractions.

  The two MI6 agents sent by Ramsey were located in the Southern bank of the River Neva, the Palace Embankment. Lined with glorious, stately palaces, it was simply the most captivating part of Russia and had so much to offer.

  With the golden dome of St Isaac’s Cathedral sparkling in the sunshine some distance ahead, Deane went over the operation in hand. He felt like he had been awake for weeks and just moving his hand to the steering wheel seemed to take half, if not all his energy. He glanced up to see St Isaac’s square some distance ahead with an impressive monument in the middle and St Isaac’s Cathedral standing tall in the distance. Deane saw through the beauty and forced away his fatigue to concentrate on one man; Salenko. He remembered Ramsey’s chilling words and it helped focus his determination. Do it. Kill them all.

  Agent William Hawk checked his seat belt was secure and ran a hand through his blonde hair. ‘This is where Salenko will be holding his next rally then?’ Several seconds went by until he glanced across and watched his newly appointed mentor looking totally focussed on the scene ahead. Not for the first time, Hawk felt uncomfortable. The plane journey had been uneventful and rather than being given much needed advice and guidance, he had endured a silent performance from his new partner.

  Deane heard the comment and forced himself to reply. He pointed to St Isaac’s Square. ‘The rally will be over there in just over an hour. It’ll be my first chance to get a look at Salenko and assess his security.’

  Hawk felt frustrated and couldn’t stop himself from cutting in. ‘You mean our first chance, right?’

  Deane started the engine and moved the car away from its parked position. ‘Absolutely not. I’ll be assessing his security, whilst you stay in the car, out of danger. Is that understood?’

  Hawk shook his head in defiance. ‘Not one bit. Look, I know you may think of me as some kid but I’m more than capable. Even Mr. Ramsey agrees with me. I want to be part of this operation.’

  ‘You will be but only when I say so and when I deem it necessary.’ He pulled the car over and opened the door. ‘Stay in the car, contact me on the radio if you run into any trouble.’

  ‘But I’m not going anywhere!’

  ‘Precisely.’ Deane shut the door and walked away from the car, immediately merging into the crowds that were gathering for the impending political rally. When he was safely out of sight, he rubbed his eyes and took a moment to gather some inner strength. The flight had drained him of his energies and at that very moment, he so wanted to drop to the floor and rest. Deane felt his glands on the side of his neck, cursed to himself and forced his legs to carry him further into the crowd.

  Olsen drove the grey Audi A4 down Grosvenor Place at a steady pace and came to a stand at the crossroads. He glanced to his right and straight ahead at the two parks that surrounded him.

  Ahead was Hyde Park, which was full of office workers and people catching as much sun as they could. With a rich Royal history, Hyde Park was originally part of the lands of Westminster Abbey seized by Henry VIII in 1536. Now, it was more likely to field a music concert, political demonstration or parade.

  Olsen moved the car ou
t onto Knightsbridge and passed Hyde Park Corner. To the right was the much smaller Green Park and Olsen caught a glimpse of Buckingham Palace, the home of the Royal family. He thought about the potential consequences of an attack on the Royal family as they attended the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games.

  Pulling his mind back to the present, Olsen turned left into Down Street and came to a stop. Switching off the ignition, he studied the location. ‘This looks like the place?’

  ‘According to the message received from London Underground, the entrance to Down Street Underground station is over there.’ Carter pointed. ‘This Lorna Reed should be around too.’ Carter looked out and saw a London Street, full of older looking office blocks. In the middle, at street level, a dark red brick building stood out. The structure looked similar to other stations, the design and colour looking familiar. Carter squinted at the image ahead. ‘All I’m seeing is a Newsagent. We are looking at the right building?’

  ‘I guess they sold that part off or something. Let’s go.’ The team leader went to the back of the car and pulled out the weapons kit, taking his Beretta 92F pistol and several extra magazines of ammunition. His colleague did the same and loaded his weapon of choice, a Heckler and Koch P7M8 pistol.

  ‘Better take a wrist torch as well, I can’t imagine the electricity will be on down there.’ Olsen waited for a car to pass and crossed the street, Carter following behind him. They made their way to the front of the station, which on closer inspection appeared faded, with several parts of the brickwork coming away.

  ‘Excuse me, but is your name Mr. Olsen?’ asked a woman approaching them.

  Olsen looked round to see a young woman in her mid to late twenties who appeared to be 5’7” or 5’8” tall with shoulder length flame coloured hair and hazel eyes. She was wearing a dark business suit and carried a small briefcase in one hand.

  ‘That’s right.’ He gestured to his side. ‘This is Dan Carter. We’re involved in security procedures for the Olympics opening ceremony. Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice. You must be Lorna Reed?’ Olsen smiled at the young woman to try and put her at ease.