by Andy Farman
“They all have got at least one Everest climb under their belts, without oxygen, and have hiked to one of the poles. When they are not on expeditions such as those they are instructing other marines in mountain and arctic warfare.”
“What can go wrong?”
“The aircraft may have to turn back through technical difficulties, they could crash if the weather is bad down low. They cannot fly over the weather, they would be seen and maybe shot down, either way the gig would be up.” The general glanced around the room.
“Once they are down, they have some of the most inhospitable terrain on the planet to cross. They have to avoid detection and prevent the alarm being raised on the mainland when they take the place. If they can do all that, then there is the big what if,” pausing for a moment to take a sip of water.
“What if the satellite that receives the codes is not the transmitter, what if it is just a relay station or just the first of several relays passing the arming codes to the one satellite we need to neutralise?”
“Jesus Henry…next time I ask you what the difficulties are, just tell me Mr President, you really don’t want to know…ok?”
“Yes sir.”
“Is there anything else about this I should know?”
“Mr President, you really don’t want to know.”
Northeast of Moscow: 0121hrs, 29th March
There was a touch of frost in the air of the forest. The chill wind from Siberia that moaned through the conifers was helping to bring the temperature down and whip away the smoke issuing from the chimney of the smart stone and log dacha.
The only illumination in the main room came in the form of flickering light from the log fire. Its resulting shifting of light and shadow leant a romantic atmosphere to the room and emphasised the good looks and curves of the blonde who sat naked astride Peridenko. Sweat dampened her skin and it shone as if oiled. Beads of sweat ran down her pale skin as she panted and rode him. Her golden hair was only visible where it emerged from under the nun’s headdress that she wore. Her breath had begun to come as sobs as she came near to her climax.
“Not yet!” Peridenko snapped, and rolled her off him. Kneeling up, he moved in order that she could occupy the lambskin rug before the fire. She knelt on elbows and knees facing away from him, presenting him with two choices.
“You do not come before I do!” he ordered.
She was facing away from him so he took the opportunity to reach under the rug and removed an object that he draped it over his shoulders before putting his left hand on her hip as he lined up.
“Not a pretty sight at all.” A voice declared from the shadows. The blond let out a little yelp and pulled away from Peridenko to squat defensively on the floor facing toward the voice with her arms wrapped about herself.
Serge stepped out of the shadows; his face blacked with camouflage cream and clad in a one-piece camouflage coverall and paratroop jump boots. He wore a headset with its boom mike before his face. The AKM-74 assault rifle sat easily in his grip as weapons do in the hands of those practised and confident in their use.
Peridenko was knelt upright with his hands covering his manhood and his eyes darted about. He appeared to be considering calling for help but Serge saved him the bother.
“Bodyguards should be bodyguards, not gravediggers Anatoly Peridenko.” The assault rifle stayed unwaveringly on the naked man as Serge let go the stock to pick up a garment draped over a chair back. He regarded the Aeroflot uniform before looking at the girl and then to Peridenko.
“Ah yes,” he said as he recalled something said by the other on a flight to Beijing.
“I see that the curtains matched the carpet after all, Anatolly?”
“Did you come here to mock me or just to indulge in voyeurism Serge!” Peridenko snapped back.
“As it happens, I came here to kill you,” was the calm reply.
Peridenko stared.
“What…why?”
“Our Premier ordered it so; it seems he believes you will not be satisfied with being mere head of the KGB once more.” He smiled genially at the frightened man before adding.
“Actually I was going to kill you myself anyway. This way just adds some legitimacy to the affair.” He stepped sideways in order to check for possible weapons within Peridenko’s grasp.
“From here I go to take over my new command.” He said with a nod indicating his camouflage clothing.
“This was an addition written at the foot of my orders.”
Peridenko began to jabber and offer inducements but Serge ignored him, addressing the girl instead.
“Did he tell you the significance of the Christian nuns garment…no?” The girl merely shook her head.
“I imagine he offered you some inducement to overcome your reluctance at allowing a hairy slobbering pig to screw you?”
Peridenko snapped at him.
“Are you here to kill me or insult me?”
Serge regarded him for a moment before he answered.
“Unlike yourself Anatolly I do not kill for pleasure, I am not mocking you; I am justifying to myself the necessity of killing you in cold blood.” Again addressing the girl he said.
“I also imagine that he promised you a move to one of the runs with more potential, in the West?” He studied her for a moment. “Affluent money men, more generous of your favours than ours or the Chinese. Possibly even a posting on the ground in one of the airline offices in the West. There you would have the chance of escape from low wages and state built hovel with garbage on the landings and elevators that never work. Meet a nice wealthy man and become his mistress or his bride?” She looked at the floor in shame.
“Ah, I see, that was it…Anatolly is an exploiter of beautiful things by offering them their dreams, young lady.”
With quick steps he snatched the object from around Peridenko’s shoulders and retreated. Serge held up the length of cord with wooden toggle handles at both ends and the stranglers knot in the middle. “The lovely Miss O’Connor believed she had merely escaped a fate worse than death by refusing your offer, Anatolly.” Tossing the strangling cord into the flames he spoke briefly into the headset microphone in answer to some communication.
“Now where was I? ah yes, Miss O’Connor. Had she accepted I am afraid I would have killed you before your date had been kept. I rather liked her you know. The sort of girl you would hope your son would bring home to meet the parents, and far too nice a girl to partake of one of your special celebrations.”
Peridenko cursed at him.
The words had no effect.
“Your bodyguards are occupying the grave intended for this lovely young creature, Anatolly…how many others are buried out there in the trees?”
The girl at last realised what Peridenko had intended for her and scrabbled further away, open mouthed in shock and looking at her lover through horrified eyes.
Peridenko bared his teeth, glaring in hatred at the soldier but did not answer.
Serge was stood calmly watching him, the assault rifle held almost casually at the hip but the muzzle never leaving Peridenko. There was a tinge of sadness perhaps in his eyes. Not sadness for the man nor for the girl either, but for himself. Again he spoke, after a few seconds that had seemed far longer in the atmosphere of the room.
“No answer?…no matter.”
In the confined space the single shot was deafening thunder as he shot the crouching man in the face without raising the butt to his shoulder.
The girl screamed aloud and darted into a corner of the room. Tears and visible, mortal terror spoilt her looks as she huddled in the corner, attempting to make herself as small as possible as she pleaded for her life. One arm was outstretched toward the muzzle of the weapon he held, hand open, palm facing outwards as if she hoped to ward off the high velocity bullet’s that she knew would come.
Gathering her clothes from the chair with one hand, he applied the safety catch of the weapon with the other and let it hang, muzzle down by its harness.
Serge carried the clothing to the girl and knelt. Soothing her with his voice, the survivor of battles from Afghanistan to Chechnya stilled her tears if not her shaking, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
“Did you find anything?” he addressed the two troopers who stood in the corridor. They nodded toward the bedroom and he entered to see they had found and opened Peridenko’s safe. He ignored the substantial bundles of high denomination US Dollars and rolls of gold coins for the moment. After a few minutes reading the documents from the safe he stuffed several printed sheets into an inner pocket of his coveralls and zipped it back up.
The wardrobe revealed a number of women’s outfits; Peridenko had apparently retained some of the more expensive clothing of the unfortunates he invited here when he had a special event to celebrate. He selected the two sable coats that he supposed had belonged to two, probably exceptionally attractive call girls now buried somewhere in the forest.
Stuffing a bundle of dollars and a roll of gold coins into one pocket of a sable coat, he left the bedroom with both the coats.
“Gather up the money.” He told one, and to the other.
“Collect all the watches and jewellery you can find and distribute it to the men who took part tonight.” He knocked on the living room door and waited a moment before entering. The girl was dressed but still trembling and looked at him with worried, uncertain eyes as he entered. He regarded her thin but relatively smart uniform overcoat and draped one of the sables over her shoulders and pressed the other into her hands.
“Do you have everything you came with?” Frowning in puzzlement at him the girl nodded.
“Come with me,” he ordered and walked from the room. Both his men waited.
“Take this young lady in my vehicle, see that she gets home safely and then rejoin us at the aerodrome,” he told one. When that man had departed the dacha with the girl in tow, Serge looked around him at the walls and expensive furnishings. To the remaining trooper he said simply.
“Burn it,” and strode out into the night.
Northwest of Zemlya Georga: 0844hrs, same day
The constant buffeting from the turbulent air above the waves had reduced most of the forty-two strong team of Royal Marines to states of misery.
Having emptied their stomachs into the vomit bags, some still experienced dry heaving. In the close confines of the aircraft, the cold, discomfort and stench of vomit had overshadowed any concerns the Royal Marine Commando’s may have had regarding the dangers involved in their mission.
After refuelling at Bodø in Norway, the 47 Squadron C-130 Hercules had flown out to sea before losing altitude and turning toward North Cape.
Squadron Leader Stewart Dunn and Flight Lieutenant Michelle Braithwaite had held the troop carrying aircraft fifty feet above the waves for almost four hours’. Instead of the light of dawn they had entered the half dark of the arctic day for this time of year. Below them the waves had given way to snow and ice and they now approached their initial point.
Sorties of RAF Jaguars and Royal Norwegian Air Force RF-16s, the reconnaissance version of the F-16 Fighting Falcon, were keeping the Russian radars busy. The C-130 would climb to the minimum height necessary to drop its load of men and equipment before descending again. Once on the ice the Marines would be on their own until they had evaded clear enough for extraction.
Down in the hold the RAF loadmaster’s donned arctic clothing, even though they themselves would not be leaving the aircraft and this warned the Marines who mentally prepared themselves.
Each Marine wore ‘Arctic Whites’; white trousers and hooded smocks made of thin parachute material covering multiple layers of warm clothing. Once they were on the ice and moving they would stop whenever they began to feel warm and remove one or two layers of their clothing. Layers go on and off prior to the marines getting too hot or too cold; it is a basic operating drill. In sub-zero temperatures it can be fatal to work up a sweat, because the sweat will soak into the clothing and freeze once they had stopped exerting themselves so exposure and pneumonia would soon follow.
Major Richard Dewar, RM, was no different from each and every one of his Marines in wanting nothing more than to escape the purgatory of their journey and leave the aircraft.
Red on, the sound of the engines altered as the pilots throttled up in preparation for a rapid climb to a safe jumping altitude. The marines in their two sticks stood up and hooked up. The business of buddy checking and last minute strap tightening commenced, their Bergen’s hampered their legs as they shuffled along and waited. The red lighting came on and transformed the interior, allowing the troops and ‘Loadies’ to still see without providing a beacon for unfriendly eyes. The dispatchers opened the side doors and the rear cargo ramp lowered. The merely cold air within plunged to sub-zero and all commands had to be conveyed by hand signal.
The Hercules banked slightly and climbed steeply.
Green on, and led by Major Dewar both sticks went out of the side doors, heavier equipment out of the rear.
Twenty-seven seconds after completing its climb the C-130 descended and turned through 160’ onto its egress route.
North Pacific: 0925hrs, same day
Hokkaido, the northern most island of Japan had slipped over the horizon astern of the Prince of Wales group during the night. The eight surface combat and three support vessels were under EMCON, electronic emission control, radios and radars on standby.
HMS Prince of Wales FA/2 Sea Harriers and ASW Merlin’s were on deck alert, as were the other ships in the group. One of her dedicated AEW Merlin’s was aloft and the other on deck alert along with the rest.
Further north HMS Hood was still trailing the Kuznetsov group, with the Chinese covert picket’s also heading north but unaware their perimeter had been breached.
The Russian Oscar II, SSGN Admiral Dumlev and her St Petersburg class SSK diesel escort Irkutsk, that Hood had detected, had already turned about. The northbound heading of the Prince of Wales group had not gone unreported by Chinese agents in Japan.
The Mao had ceased her constant circling and was heading south, her original timetable scrapped and her air group at varying stages of ability with regards carrier flight operations. In four hours’ time the Kuznetsov would turn about and slow, allowing the Mao group to join with her and her group in the early evening. In southern China, marines were rehearsing for their role in the invasion of Taiwan as were the airborne troops assigned to that operation and the assault and capture of Singapore.
Duchess County, New York State: 1057hrs, same day.
Ben Dupre had a very personal interest in this particular operation, leaving his deputy in charge in Washington he had flown to New York State. Ben was not there to run the operation; he had a very able man in charge already. Once collected from the field where the Bureau helicopter had delivered him, a car dropped him in a small side road off the Route 84 near the Putnam County line. ATF, FBI and their SWAT command members were clustered around the vehicle employed as the mobile command post. Stood in the background was a USAF colonel, Ben shook hands all around and stood with the colonel to listen to the briefing.
The Fascists of America of had been infiltrated a year before by a young female agent who had moved up in the organisation hierarchy to close to the leadership. She had passed on to her handler a rumour she had heard that a foreign government had offered them assistance. The only stipulation, she had heard, was that in return for the FA attacking several targets of their choosing simultaneously with bombs they would supply, financial aid would be forthcoming. One such attack would be somewhere in New York City and she had learnt where the operation was to be staged from. The young woman had been requested to discover solid details, however, she had been found dead in a field instead. The circumstances of her death were not elaborated upon, at least two persons present at this briefing knew her personally and the agent in charge did not want this turning into a grudge match.
In nearby Wiccopie was a rented house c
ontaining five men, the plan was to enter and arrest the occupants. Authority had been obtained to block the landline telephone access and switch off the nearby cellular servers for the area whilst the operation was in progress. Surveillance on the premises and occupants had shown merely that they rarely ventured out and seemed to exist on a diet of pizza and fried chicken delivered to the door. A male and female agent, posing as a couple had rented the adjoining building and over the past thirty-six hours’ a SWAT team had moved in and removed a significant amount of the dividing wall. In addition they had inserted fibre optic lenses into minute holes to observe the activity in the main room. A laptop computer could be seen, it had been on permanently since the surveillance had begun. Messages were being passed in an innocuous fashion in a chat room, this occurred every four hours’ and the sender in the house referred to a copy of a school textbook before replying. Concluding that this was a security measure the agent in charge had decided not to interfere with the landline access as their subjects ‘leaving the room’ would sound alarm bells at the other end as their screen name disappeared from the list of those in the chat room. They obviously had a procedure for re-establishing contact in the event of being accidentally ‘knocked off’ the server, it had not happened whilst the surveillance had been in place so they had no idea what it would be. In all, fifty-two raids were taking place across mainland America, Alaska and Hawaii this morning. It was impossible to synchronise them, local conditions varied too much as they did here where the next security check was due in two hours’ twenty-two minutes, they would ‘go’ in two hours’ thirty.
“We don’t want the subjects to break the connection right after their next message, it would look too suspicious,” the agent explained. “Ideally we don’t want the connection broken at all.” The agent glanced briefly at the colonel before continuing.
“You are all aware that this operation is being mounted in response to a suspected terrorist bombing being planned and you are probably wondering why the hell I am repeating myself after your briefing last night?” Pointing to the rear he informed them.