Underground Murmurs (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 2)

by Tim Jopling

  The loyal follower was dressed in the same blue uniform of a London Underground staff member. ‘I have laid several of the cascade charges, Jozef, it’s going well so far.’

  Jozef flashed his torch onto the remains of the track and could just make out one of the devices under the metal. Images of the carnage they would cause came into his mind, filling every cell of his body with delight. ‘Well done. Keep going. I will help you now.’ Before he could reach for one of the nearby tools, a noise broke through the surrounding silence, emanating from the shadows further down the track. ‘Stay here.’ The terrorist leader found his pistol and slowly stalked down the remainder of the platform. The noise could be heard again as he screwed on the silencer attachment. His look became a fixated stare as he reached the end of the platform and found the source of the disturbance. Just feet away, several rats were scurrying around, knocking tiles off the unstable walls as they went about their business. Jozef grabbed one of them by the neck and watched the small rodent struggle in his grip. He smiled to himself and slowly crushed the life out of the animal as he closed his eyes and pictured all the innocents who would perish when the cascade charges detonated.

  Olsen gathered the team around the conference table in Operations Command. The team leader rubbed his eyes and didn’t mind admitting he had yet to adjust to the non-stop work the operation called for. His attempts to get back in touch with Rachel had not surprisingly fallen on deaf ears. He hadn’t intentionally wanted to make her feel second best but Olsen knew that was how she felt. Despite his efforts to focus on the operation and be as obsessed as he had been in the past, he felt as guilty as hell. Despite his guilt he forced himself back to the present and looked again at the screen in front of Jordan. ‘Let’s go over what you have on the main display, Alex.’

  Jordan worked the computer as all the S.U.C.O. agents gathered around the table. Lorna Reed joined them, at Olsen’s request.

  ‘This is everything I could recover from the damaged hard disk we recovered from Baldon House.’ Another screen flashed up, displaying several files. ‘Firstly, there are several documents on Cascade Charges. I found partial sectors containing elements of a spreadsheet detailing financial supporters and one picture file, which is most intriguing. This is it.’ Gibbs loaded the picture and within seconds, it appeared on the screen.

  ‘Looks like a map of the London Underground, though I’ve never seen one like that before.’ observed Olsen.

  Lorna Reed saw the display and was surprised at what she saw. ‘Oh my god.’ She looked at Olsen straight away. ‘Sam…I think you may have been right with your theory on these abandoned stations being a target.’

  Olsen’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t follow.’

  Reed pointed at the map as all the S.U.C.O. agents gave her their undivided attention. ‘This isn’t just any tube map, it’s the first one that was ever designed. This map was created by Harry Beck and was the first to be produced that was simple and easy to read. It was used as the template for transport maps all over the world. Harry Beck created this map in 1933. The only reason I can think of as to why the terrorists would have it is because back in 1933 pretty much all of the stations that are abandoned and closed now were still in use back then. This map would detail the locations of these stations and work as a link to finding out more.’ Reed looked back to Olsen again as several strands of her flame coloured hair dropped down to the side of her face. ‘Sam, this has to be it! It’s a clear link to what they’re doing!’

  ‘I agree. As I said to Lorna just moments ago, these abandoned stations provide an access point to the entire London Underground network, security is non-existent and once they have access god only knows what they will do.’

  Carter chipped in, ‘That would certainly explain what the attacker was doing in Down Street station. Alex, was there anything else indicating which stations they would go for?’

  ‘Nothing else, no. It’s possible there was more information on the damaged sectors of the hard disk but those are so far gone it’s highly unlikely we’ll retrieve anything from them.’

  Olsen shook his head. ‘I doubt someone like Jozef Kiprich would store everything on a laptop anyway. No, we’re going to have to do this ourselves.’ He turned to Lorna Reed once more, now realising more than ever that the likeable girl from London Underground was going to prove crucial in stopping the forthcoming attacks. ‘Lorna, can you tell us everything you know about these abandoned stations?’

  Lorna Reed walked to the head of the table and switched on the large display screen that showed a map of the tube network. ‘Looking at this morning’s event, Down Street is more of a one off. It has a rich history and is mainly still intact. The fact that it is used as an emergency exit option for the Piccadilly Line also means it’s in fairly good condition.’ She glanced at Carter as she fiddled with strands of her hair. She pressed several keys on the keyboard linked to the display where pointers appeared on the map. ‘There are around 40 abandoned stations on the Underground network along its 255 miles of track way. Some of them are below ground, some on the surface.’

  Olsen knew enough about the tube network to be aware that any stations closed in the central London area would be underground and not above the surface. ‘Let’s stick with the below ground stations for now and those more in the centre and east of London.’

  ‘Makes sense to me,’ agreed Carter.

  Reed pointed to the first marker on the map. ‘On the Piccadilly Line we have Aldywch station which has been restored for TV filming and such like. It closed in 1994 and is situated just here, past Holborn station. Down Street is not far away from that one, incidentally.’ She pointed. ‘Also on the same line is Brompton Road which was closed in 1934, its last usage was during World War II when it was refurbished as an anti-aircraft control centre. The last station on this line is York Road, which is not far from Kings Cross St Pancras station. This was closed in 1932. The surface building is still there today and is completely intact, together with the platforms.’

  Carter leaned forward in his chair. ‘What about the other stations you just mentioned Lorna? Are they all still intact?’

  ‘Aldwych is a one off, more of a time capsule really. All the others vary from being close to complete or just half a platform. It depends. Obviously, they are closed off from the public but the platforms and sub surface structures are all intact. You can still see most of them if you look carefully when travelling on the underground. On the Northern line, we have King William Street that was closed in 1900. Again, this was used during the war as an air raid shelter. The surface buildings have completely gone now and the only access is through the basement of Regis House, which is the home of some IT companies. Also on the same line is City Road although, according to reports, the sub surface station has now flooded. Finally we have Stockwell, which was the original station that closed in 1923. The Stockwell station of today opened in 1924. The original has all been demolished, several tunnels still remain but the actual platforms have now gone.’

  Olsen leaned forward. ‘The Olympics will be held in Stratford, is there anything on the Central line that stands out?’

  Reed pressed another key and the map changed. ‘Only one, Sam; the British Museum station. It was closed in 1933 but used as an air raid shelter through the war. The station building was demolished in 1989 although it is still possible to gain access to the remains of the platforms through the basement of the building in its place. It was replaced by Holborn station but that’s nearer St. Paul’s rather than out towards East London.’ She pressed another key, which showed a station nearer that part of London. ‘There is St. Marys station though, it’s not on the Central line but does have access to it from its position on the District line. It’s located here near Aldgate East, which eventually replaced it. The surface building of St. Marys was destroyed by a World War II bomb in 1940 but the deep level platforms and corridors are still intact. Interestingly, this station is owned by the Military and has been since the war. London
Underground doesn’t have any access to it, or any right of way.’

  Olsen cut in. ‘No access at all?’ He thought over the possibilities and turned to an aide. ‘Contact the Military. I want them to grant access so we can check it out.’

  Reed pressed several keys and the display changed listing all the stations mentioned with key details alongside. ‘That’s the full listing of what you asked for Sam, let me know if you need more.’ She left the table and stood back.

  Olsen got up and addressed the team once more. ‘Excellent work, Lorna. Ok, so that’s what we’re up against. As you can see, there are several stations that could be possible targets. Carter is handing out assignment sheets now. We have to be thorough on this and that means visiting each of these stations in the time we have left and doing as thorough a check as possible.’

  Jordan looked at the list of stations and could see it was a daunting task. ‘If we take one each, we could cover them all in double the time.’

  Olsen didn’t agree. ‘Going to these stations alone is too risky, believe me.’ He looked out at his team once more. ‘Jordan and Gibbs will go to Brompton Road and then King William Street. Jarvis will lead Ballard and Wilson to York Road and then the British Museum, whilst Carter and I will check out Aldwych station and St. Mary’s but for now, we’ll wait for clearance from the military. Any questions?’

  Lorna Reed gave Olsen a smile. ‘Hold on, remember Aldwych station is completely restored and TV companies film there regularly. I don’t think anyone would look at that station as an option.’ She handed official looking documents to Olsen. ‘See for yourself.’

  Olsen raised a hand in the air, not disbelieving the woman. ‘I know what you said Lorna, I just don’t want to dismiss anything; it’s the first mistake we can make. It’s worth checking all the angles.’

  ‘Can we have Lorna issue us all with information on the stations we are going to? What if we encounter the targets?’ asked Carter.

  ‘Lorna will provide you all with detailed maps and information. If you find any unusual activity or any targets you get out of there and call me. Under no circumstances do you engage them alone.’ Olsen addressed Jordan. ‘Make sure every team member is equipped with torches and their chosen weapons, together with a flare. We’ll be leaving within the hour and I want everyone to be ready.’

  A powerful voice emanated from behind. ‘Excellent work S.U.C.O. However, before you depart, I have something else that might be of use.’ Ramsey, Chief of MI6 dropped several photos onto the table and pointed out one individual. ‘This man right here.’ He pointed. ‘Is a real threat. I urge all of you to get a good look at him and be on the lookout. I admit the photos are not of the best quality or resolution but it’s enough to identify him. I’m personally issuing a direct order to shoot to kill if you see him. I’ve run this image through every agency and every database I can but I’ve found virtually nothing. I don’t have a name or any background but I’m certain this is the man who killed Hal Burton.’

  A wave of anger spread through the S.U.C.O. agents at the mention of their former commander, who had betrayed them all.

  ‘Now, I’m no fan of Burton, I never was. But I’m convinced this man is somehow linked to Jozef Kiprich. It can’t be a coincidence and of course I can’t be 100% certain but we need to start finding the links and I’m sure this man is playing a large part. You can see from the photos they are all time stamped, this one in particular,’ Ramsey held up one photo which showed Burton being led away by the mysterious attacker. ‘Shows Burton being led off to his death.’ He made a point of looking at every team member as he continued. ‘This is the first picture we have of this man, the first proof that he exists. If you find him, I want him dead.’

  Olsen made a mental note of the grainy image ahead of him and turned around to one of the S.U.C.O. agents holding a phone.

  ‘We have a problem with the Military, Sam. They won’t allow us access to St. Marys at all. They say it’s off limits and is a level one classified area.’

  Olsen took the phone and felt a stab of anger that red tape was starting to block his way. ‘This is Agent Olsen, a senior member of MI6.’ He said quickly.

  A posh sounding voice replied on the other end. ‘This is Major Owen of the Military. Look, as I said to your other man, that area is under our jurisdiction and is therefore our property only. I won’t allow anyone to walk around the area at all. It’s off limits, do you understand?’

  Olsen rubbed the side of his temples. Like I really need this! ‘I understand that sir but we’re working on a threat that could have major repercussions on the opening ceremony of the Olympics and national security. I’d hate to think something happened because you refused to allow my team to-’

  ‘Do not threaten me, young man! You can try to railroad me all you like but I’m telling you, only Military personnel can access the area and it is cordoned off. I think that’s the end of it, don’t you?’

  ‘Wait! I apologise sir, really I do. Would it be possible to send a team there yourself and get back to me when you have the word? I only wish to dismiss the area from our investigations. That’s all I ask.’

  A pause came, until the stuffy sounding Major spoke again, sounding irritated. ‘Oh very well! I’ll have a man take a look and then we will contact you. Agent Olsen, is that correct?’

  ‘That’s me, sir. Thank you; I do appreciate it.’ Olsen put down the receiver and frowned at nobody in particular. If they don’t do a proper job, I’ll go there myself and sod the procedures! He looked back at part of the display and wondered whether they were hours away from stopping the threat or just falling into a well-devised trap. Lingering in his heart was the guilt he still felt regarding his wife but he forced it away again, making a deal with himself to stay selfish if only to save the women he loved with all his heart.

  Deane had wanted to move from the post minutes ago but just couldn’t find the strength to do it. He couldn’t deny it any longer. The glandular fever was getting worse and his energy levels were dropping by the hour. His eyes darted back to the Lada, at least half a mile away, where Hawk would be waiting. Deane thought about calling Hawk over to help but discarded the thought immediately. Can’t bring the boy into this, no matter what Ramsey thinks. Have to handle this without his help, find a way through one more time.

  Slowly, he pushed himself away from the post and staggered off, away from the rally. Each step felt like lifting heavy ton weights, his muscles ached so badly but eventually, he cleared away from the crowds. Keeping his head down and not making eye contact with anyone, he turned onto Bolshaya Street and then onto Nevskiy Prospekt. Slowly, as the buildings seemed to part ahead of him, he saw the impressive landmark he wanted to see.

  The Hermitage museum was a magnificent sight, at any time of day or year. Dating back to 1754, the first building was commissioned by Empress Catherine the second. Occupying six buildings along the embankment of the River Neva, in the very heart of St. Petersburg, it simply blew away all competition. In 2005, it was celebrating the return of Kasimir Malevich’s Black Square painting, which had caused a flurry of activity amongst locals and avid followers around the world who wanted to see it again.

  Deane had seen many, if not all the famous landmarks from around the world but had to admit, the sight of the Hermitage in the distance certainly had the edge. Looking like a former Royal palace, possibly even more impressive than Buckingham Palace thought Deane. It caught the eye and captivated you in awe, immediately.

  As he walked along the side of the first building, his mindset changed to the operation and he saw his ally ahead of him, waiting around the corner in the shadows.

  C.I.A. Agent Ron Hanley, who had worked with Deane in the past, stood alone and surveyed his surroundings. Dressed in a dark brown jacket and black trousers, his patchy black hair was thinning and his pockmarked skin looked like it had been stretched across his face that very morning. ‘Glad you could make it!’ he snapped.

  The sight of Hanley had b
een a welcome boost of positivity to Deane and all of a sudden, the thought of having an experienced ally at his side made him believe he could complete the operation after all. ‘You’ve seen him?’ he referred to Salenko straight away.

  ‘I’ve seen him. I don’t appreciate all this planning and waiting around, either. I say we just pop him there and then at his next rally. We both have the same agenda, we both want the same result.’

  ‘Fortunately for you, I already have a plan worked up, ready to be executed and it doesn’t involve messy assassinations.’ Deane reached into his dark blue jacket and showed a vial of liquid to his ally. ‘One drop of this, he’ll be dead within the hour and all signs will point to a massive heart attack.’

  ‘A heart attack! I want this guy splattered all over the papers looking as dead as they come – that’s my agenda.’

  Deane stepped closer and towered over his tough friend. His aching muscles, swollen lymph nodes in his neck and the cataclysmic headache that was forming were enough to make him snap at people. ‘We’ll do it my way. If he becomes a martyr, our problems will spiral out of control. One drop of this on his skin will be enough for this operation and the C.I.A.’

  ‘And just how do you propose to do that, when he’s surrounded by armed guards?’

  ‘I’ll explain nearer the time.’ He replaced the vial back in his jacket pocket. ‘It won’t be a problem.’ Not for one moment did he believe his own self-confidence.

  Hanley didn’t shift his weight or back off. ‘We’ll see. Just don’t forget, policing the world is our job, not yours.’

  Deane didn’t touch on that ridiculous remark, just held a stare and then backed away to leave. ‘You’ve made contact with Dieter?’

  ‘Yeah. Talkative guy too, can barely get a word out of him. But then, GSG9 agents are always like that. He’s clued up on Salenko’s home, his security, the whole whoopla. Want me to take you to him?’