Treasonable Intent

by C Shaw Hilton

  The Diplomat had worked through all his explanations on the overnight flight as the news was relayed to him. “I am afraid they have proven untrustworthy and unpredictable. Benning’s claim of a loyal cadre ready to assist us; seemed too good to be true. I am beginning to think it is.”

  The General looked at the Diplomat, studying his face for signs he might be holding something back. Nothing. Nevertheless, what he was reporting sounded like a prequel to failure. Alarmingly he had hinted that their operation might have been compromised. Perhaps they were being used as part of a wider plot they were not party to.

  Fu continued reading: “Benning expedited the interception of Haller in Amsterdam, which was admittedly at short notice, but he failed to give a plausible explanation to the UK government. He has been listed as missing. MI5 and MI6 have put out a search for him. Since that time we believe he has made a call to the NSA in the United States. They in turn have told the British what he is up to. Has he called you?”

  The Diplomat shifted uneasily in his chair. “Yes he contacted me this morning on my way here. He offered to trade Haller in return for our continuing involvement with the attack on Rose Garden.”

  The General paused. Only the hum of the air conditioning could be heard in the room. It was an eerie silence and the Diplomat began to feel as though the meeting was at a pivotal point. Eventually he looked up from the paperwork: “You believe Benning?”

  The Diplomat spoke slowly, reflecting the caution he felt. “It is hard to say. He may hand him over but I suspect he intends to use the Doctor directly in the effort to expose and destroy Rose Garden. If he succeeds we may find ourselves in a strange auction with the Americans. He may even use him to support his own position with the British although I think he doesn’t stand a chance given what he has done. He has committed treason. I have, however, persuaded him to give us the laptop Haller was taking to the USA. Something on account as they say. ”

  The General closed the folder and stood up. The Diplomat followed suit. “I want hourly updates and analysis. Our two teams must continue as planned. We are in too deep to extract ourselves now and if we have been set up by Benning, then we have to anticipate and adapt. I take it we don’t know of any communications between Williams and Benning?”

  The Diplomat shook his head. “I’m afraid not. What are your orders in the event the two of them have compromised our operation and it collapses?”

  The General gestured towards the door, signalling the end of the meeting. “Extract those team members we can, disown any we can’t. We will worry about retribution later.” He opened the door. The two men gave a polite bow to each other.

  The Diplomat turned as he left, “Don’t worry General, I shall not let this operation fail,” and with that, he was on his way.

  The General returned to his seat and glanced again at the folder before pressing an intercom button and asking his assistant to come in. The young man in the dark suit returned. “Was our colleague helpful, General?” he asked politely.

  Fu looked disconcerted. “I think he believes we have been foolish to become embroiled in this and that we are about to fall into a trap. He also recognises that the whole operation was sanctioned by the Ministry. Ultimately responsibility for the success of operational delivery rests with them. If he can deliver our objective then he will. To that extent he was helpful.”

  The young man pursed his lips. “He operates under diplomatic cover and he is very talented. He put those teams together from some of our deepest embedded agents and specialists in short order. He is very highly regarded. If anyone can deliver it is him.”

  Fu was pleased with the assurance but in his mind, the doubts would not dissipate. He smiled at the young man: “You are ever the optimist,” he said kindly. “Maybe you are right and fortune will smile on us.” He paused momentarily. “Now let us go through the motions of another inspection tour. I expect the managers from TwoBitz are nervously hovering in the foyer waiting to show me their latest technological wonders.” They left the office together.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Air B and B let in Bristol had the advantage of a large garage unit underneath the three storey town house. Ahmed Hassan Ali was sitting at the dining room table cleaning an Uzi. In the garage the white truck had its roller shutter open. Inside the men known as Li and Keller were working together on what looked like a large engine block surrounded by several steel cylinders. Their fourth team member was a young West African known as Cyrus. He was making his way up the street to the house carrying a large holdall. It contained various tools and equipment bought at the local hardware store. The bag was heavy. When he reached the doorstep he rolled his eyes in exasperation. A large 150 cm tall box sat on the doorstep covered in Amazon delivery stickers. He knew he would have to lift that and the tools into the house. He pulled his key from the pocket and gave three rings on the doorbell as the agreed code to avoid being shot.

  Ali put his weapon down and went to the top of the stairs to watch him come in. Despite the doorbell code he kept a 9mm pistol in his hand until he recognised Cyrus lugging the box and holdall in through the entrance. Ali smiled to himself. The young lad had proven an adept operative, driving the truck in the switch outside Gloucester and then going by bus to Kidderminster to pick up Keller and return him to the team via a rather tortuous route. He was, however, inexperienced and at times tried too hard rather than asking for help. “Need a hand?” he said in almost fluent English with just a hint of an Egyptian accent.

  Cyrus looked up. “I’m ok, fine, just need a hand up the stairs.” Ali put his pistol in his belt holster and went down to help him. The box was heavy and awkward but they pulled it up the stairs into the lounge together and Cyrus went back for the holdall. “This is it?” asked Cyrus. Ali nodded. They both then pulled Stanley knives from their pockets and opened up the box, throwing the cut cardboard sections on the floor. Ali then unpacked the holdall onto the table next to his Uzi. When they had finished both men stood back. It looked like the contents of an electronics workshop. “How long?” said Cyrus.

  Ali scanned the various pieces of hardware. “Another four hours should do it. We need to put the units together up here and then feed them downstairs. They should be ready for the first one in about an hour. Cyrus nodded, picked up a pair of electrical pliers and a screwdriver and began work reading from the large schematic diagrams pinned to the walls with blu-tack. Ali went down to the garage. Keller was perspiring heavily having just moved two huge capacitors into the vehicle. In his New England accent he complained: “Should have bought a tail lift version, Ali.”

  The Egyptian smiled “Can’t make this too easy.” He climbed into the back of the Truck. “How is it going Captain?”

  Li looked up from a small notebook plugged into one of the steel cylinders. “So far so good. The main kit Cyrus picked up from the freight terminal at Heathrow is all in good order. The rest just needs care in building. Is he back yet?” Ali nodded. “Good. We need to be out of here and on our way by ten pm.”

  Ali put his hand on his shoulder. “This will work, won’t it?”

  It was Keller who answered. Jumping into the back of the truck he looked tired and flustered but his eyes were cold steel. “Yes it will work because we simply cannot afford for this to fail.” The conversation was evidently over. With general nods of agreement they all resumed their work.

  Seventy five miles away the second team were going through their preparations in the holiday cottage in Exmoor. A two storey stone building, at the end of a long gravel track, it had been chosen for its isolation and relative proximity to Plymouth. If things went wrong with her husband’s team, then Fatima had orders to launch a direct attack on the Cube.

  There were a few scattered farm buildings in the vicinity but the nearest household was over two kilometres away. Unfortunately the cottage lacked a garage. Once they had unloaded all their kit into the yard, the most junior of them drove the Mazda CX5 back down the lane and parked it out
of sight in a small area of woodland. By the time she had walked back she found Fatima Ali sat in the lounge with the other two. They then gathered around the small coffee table. Major Wilkins kit bag and is contents were laid out before them. Each nursed a mug of coffee.

  Fatima spoke. Her accent was more pronounced than her husband’s but with a slightly Syrian inflection. “The tablet is locked by retina scan. She wouldn’t even have needed to be alive to activate it. This idiot Major doesn’t even understand the power she holds. Why she woke up and got out of the car I don’t know, but in any event, we failed to capture her. So now we have a problem.”

  The three others shifted uneasily in their chairs. The Irish brothers, Daniel and Padraig Walsh and the wild looking gothic Kirstin Stamm had driven the grey van into the back of the Jaguar on the service slip road. They expected to find Fawzia Wilkins stunned and to have captured her and her tablet intact. Despite the frenzied efforts trying to gun her down and recover her body the fog had made it a hopeless task from the start. When Fatima arrived in the CX5 to pick them up, they were out of ammunition and only had the bag. The journey to Exmoor had been conducted in silence but now Fatima verbally lashed all three of them for failing to secure the Major. By the time she finished they all looked frightened.

  “Options please” continued Fatima. He eyes scanned each face intently. Silence would not be tolerated.

  It was Padraig who spoke first: “Can we get her palm print and retina registry out of one of the security banks for JCW or GCHQ? Nia Williams might still be able to access it for us?”

  Fatima nodded. “Good. Now you are thinking.” She turned to Kirstin, “and your suggestion?”

  “We can use Nia Williams to lure her somewhere like the safe house and capture her.” Kirstin spoke with a heavy Danish accent and looked vaguely pleased with herself for coming up with something. Despite her youthful wild appearance she was now in her early thirties. An experienced agent for the Ministry of State Security, she was recruited in university in Copenhagen and subsequently infiltrated into the United Kingdom as a translator for the Ministry of Defence. Her local knowledge derived from years of holidaying in Devon and Cornwall.

  Daniel Walsh didn’t wait to be asked. He had spent the last five weeks preparing for this operation and had gone through every scenario and option in forensic detail. “Both those options have merit and nothing should be exclusive. I think the tablet could be hacked. We anticipated this and have the equipment here to break the encryption. We should link it up via our transmitter to the TwoBitz office in Shanghai and ask them to assist by-passing the security software. After all they are pretty much the best in the business.”

  Fatima nodded. “Excellent. We will pursue all three approaches and each of you can lead on your own suggestion. We have until 10pm here. Then we must relocate for the final phase,”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Benning was glad to be off the ferry but his face reflected his growing concern. The conversation with Sidowski had been brief and to the point. The Americans were not going to do any kind of trade for Haller. He sighed, as much because the outcome met his low expectations of the NSA as anything else. Having access to their interface technology might have made things easier in the short term. It was not, however, critical to his plan, as long as he had the Doctor and his laptop. His conversation with the Chinese had seemed more fruitful. They clearly wanted the doctor and felt committed to the plan. He had been smart to hand over the second laptop that Haller intended to take to the USA whilst retaining the main one. A courier had delivered it to their Netherlands Embassy before they boarded the ferry. However it meant the doctor and the main laptop were his only asset to trade. He might have to give them to the British in return for an amnesty deal, if he pulled off his plan. That would leave him with a bad enemy in the form of the Ministry of State Security. It was not ideal.

  He glanced in the mirror. His false passport had required him to sport a pair of horn rimmed glasses and a dark wig. It wasn’t an attractive image. He looked away quickly and focussed at the scene outside the Mercedes window, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinised the terminal building. The Port of Hull was never pretty but today the weather made it dull and grey. The rain was sweeping across the concrete causeway and under the shelter of the canopy he could see his two paramedics pushing a wheelchair containing Haller out of the building. The Doctor presented as a stroke victim thanks to the various drugs that George had administered and the paperwork passed through Border Force scrutiny without a second glance. He turned and nodded at George who put the car into gear and cruised slowly over to the pick -up point. The rest of his team had dispersed in Rotterdam and once their wheelchair stint was over, the paramedics would return there, job done. Haller was quickly loaded into the rear seat and the two paramedics disappeared into the rain. With just the three of them left in the Mercedes they headed west to join the M62. Haller remained semi-conscious, strapped in with his seat belt and under his blanket he was further immobilised with ties around his ankles and wrists.

  As the Humber Bridge disappeared behind them, Benning broke what had been a lengthy silence. “How long before the drugs wear off and the Doctor is back to his usual self?”

  George glanced at his watch “Fifty to Sixty minutes.”

  Benning exhaled audibly. “I’d rather we didn’t have to shoot him full of another dose. Can we make it to Castleford in time?”

  George nodded “Barring any delays for road works or accidents we should be ok.”

  Benning checked his own watch. The Mercedes would be left outside of the leisure complex and snow dome in Castleford. They would transfer to a waiting recreational vehicle hired through one of his private accounts and driven by his younger sister Susanne. It had been a reluctant decision to involve her and the forty eight year old dental nurse was oblivious to what he had done and was planning to do. He had little choice, however, as virtually all his trusted confidents were either engaged elsewhere or could only operate outside of the UK.

  When they turned off the motorway an hour later, George parked at the near end of the car park. Haller was able to walk with support, if a little wobbly over steps and kerbs. They made their way to the main entrance of the snow dome and arrived just in time to see the RV pull up in a disability bay outside.

  Suzanne lent out of the window and shouted: “OK Chaps let’s get a move on before I get a fine for parking here.” Almost dragging the doctor, they hurried across and entered through the side door. As soon as it slammed shut she put the vehicle in gear and began to drive off. “Well this is an unexpected treat Neville. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

  Benning had rehearsed his script on the way from Hull. “This is Dr.Haller a scientific colleague from Switzerland. He has come over to work with me on a lecture tour. The RV is cheaper for us than hotels. This is George who is the tour organiser. We managed to get transportation this far but you are a welcome sight. Thanks for picking it up. Once we get to Manchester we can drop you so that you can get the train home to Stafford.”

  Suzanne stepped in immediately: “Nice to meet you all. Actually I’d love to hear one of your lectures. I know so little about your work and I want to be as supportive as possible. I’ve asked for a few days leave so I can afford the time.” She smiled.

  “Fine, fine” said Benning. His eyes were fixed on Haller. He should have been coming round by now but still looked groggy. “I’m afraid Dr Haller felt seasick on the way over and is still struggling a bit.”

  “Do you want me to pull over or head towards a hospital?” asked Suzanne innocently.

  Benning paused: “I think it will be ok but I’ll let you know. George has a bit of medical experience if needed.” He looked across at George who wore a worried frown. He was trying to get the Doctor to sip a cup of water and making sure he was neither too hot nor cold.

  As the RV hurtled past the turning for Dewsbury, Haller seemed to revive. His eyes suddenly had a sharp focus and his rouge
complexion returned. His breathing became deeper and more regular. He suddenly looked animated by the sight of George sitting next to him in jeans and a grey T -Shirt. “Where are we?” he asked Benning.

  Benning relaxed a little. “In England dear friend, exactly as I said.”

  Haller didn’t look reassured. “I am supposed to be in New England not England. My American backers will be very upset. Why is this thug here?”

  “It's the only way I could get your release. The Chinese have insisted on a chaperone for us.”

  Haller looked disconcerted: “That wasn’t what we agreed. I don’t want them following me around. I need to be free. Have you contacted my American backers?”

  Benning tried to sound reasonable as the doctor became more agitated. “I can assure you that they wanted you in New England. I believe they are doing a test run of their interface and you were to help manage that and advise them. Unfortunately they were not prepared to trade access to it for your presence. My offer, therefore, seems to be the only one on your table. Do a small piece of work for me and I will guarantee your security and freedom. It is that or a one way ticket to Shanghai.” Haller looked crestfallen. It was not what he wanted to hear. He looked out of the side window at the passing urban retail units and began to think through how to escape.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ray Singh was propped against the wall, still tethered to the broken remains of the chair. Nia sat bolt upright but her face was flecked with blood and a large bruise had appeared around her left eye. The thin, hard face of Olsson stared down from his perch on the arm of the sofa. He hadn’t done anything to help either of them but sat quietly cradling the HK machine pistol. His mind seemed to be working in overdrive, assessing the implications of what had transpired at the safe house.