Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  She understood perfectly enough. The Americans had handed her over to what appeared to be Moroccan mercenaries. This scenario concerned her. She couldn’t work out why they’d done this to her. A bag was emptied out onto the table next to her, a black burka being the only item to fall out of it.

  “Shoes, in there,” she was told. She took her shoes and then socks off and placed them into the bag.

  “Now clothes.”

  She went to grab the burka, intending on pulling that on first before undressing any more.

  “No, clothes off first. We check no wires.”

  She paused for a moment, a grin appearing on the third man’s face, some smartphone in his hand, now also raised. He was filming this little episode.

  “Quickly,” the frontman nearest her said again. “Clothes into the bag.”

  She saw no point in resisting and took off her jeans and t-shirt she was wearing, the only things to hand that morning when she was forced to get dressed by the Americans. She dropped them into the bag that sat on the table, standing there in only her underwear.

  “Everything!” he barked at her again. “Check you no wires. Okay?”

  It was far from okay, but she’d insisted on worse herself, through the years. She quickly stepped out of her underwear and threw that too into the bag, before spinning around on the spot, as if to prove the fact there was nothing hidden on her. Her spin seemed to please the man holding the camera phone more than anything.

  She ignored him and reached for the burka, and with no visible issue with her doing that, she pulled it over her head in one go and let it fall to the floor around her, now covering her up. Only her eyes were visible. Everything was placed into the bag, which was collected by the man nearest her and carried to the van, as she too was led to it. She was put in a seat, and the bag dropped next to her as two men climbed into the back with her, the two other men taking the front seats. The garage door then opened up, sunlight filling the space. Aside from the other car that she’d heard pull up, a smaller vehicle with four men inside, there were no other signs of life around for as far as she could see.

  The video of Elizabeth undressing and then standing there naked before them all was sent on to others connected to Boko Haram, with the simple message:

  “Look what we’ve got and we are heading for you. Have the money ready.”

  The Americans, who’d handed Elizabeth over, returned to their command centre, one hundred kilometres further north along the coast. Once back, they merely typed out a message for their superiors:

  Target handed over as planned, everything has gone smoothly. Tracker is still showing active and on the move. With any luck, he’ll come for her again.

  The following day Elizabeth had been taken as far as Western Sahara, where she was to be flown out from a small, mainly unused, airfield controlled by the local militia. To have driven her south would have required many hours, days in fact, and the roads were few in the area, meaning they would have had to use the limited number of routes there actually were, which therefore carried more traffic.

  There was nothing unusual in their journey, though if they were stopped at the borders, it might lead to too many questions. The flight from the airfield would take them as far as eastern Burkina Faso. From there cars would take them to a river where a boat would take them across into Benin. It would take the best part of two days to get that far, but once into Benin, a convoy would be waiting for them. From there it was not far to the Nigerian border, but they would then have to travel right across Nigeria from the west to the far northeast.

  In London that same day, MI6 had received information from the Americans about the capture of Elizabeth. They’d also reported what they had then done with her.

  “Outrageous!” had been the first thing the head of the Security Service had said once he’d heard the news, but the Americans had gone on to explain their reasons.

  “Look, we have no idea where this ‘coming together’ is taking place in Nigeria, and she’s probably our best chance of finding out. Plus she offers the bonus of flushing out this Chinese agent who up to now has given us all the runaround. I would think you’d be glad to get him out in the open once more, on our terms, and taken out of the picture. It was your office that came to us in the first place asking that we take military action in this situation, don’t you forget. And this is what we are proposing to do. Everyone is converging on the same area, everyone coming together at some set location. We don’t know where that will be, but we do know this Shadow Man was tracking Elizabeth. We found the device he must have left in her shoe. We don’t know if she was aware of it, but we didn’t bother to place our own. There was no need. We just connected that device’s frequency to our receivers and now have a fully functioning tracking device. He can only have placed it there to find her at some point, but we are certain he’ll be keeping a close eye on her. As soon as he sees her apparently entering Nigeria, he’ll know something is up. And we’re sure he’ll make a move for her. She’s due to enter into western Nigeria in about three days. The convoy is making their way south as we speak, flying into Burkina Faso this evening I believe before continuing by car.”

  “Haven’t you thought about what they’ll do to someone like Elizabeth once they get their hands on her?”

  “More than what we’d do, you mean?”

  “Come on, you know that’s not the same. A Western white woman looking the way she does, a known British spy, for all they know. It’s inhumane to have handed her over, especially when she has so much information that we still need from her.”

  “Do you think she would have told us anything?”

  “Well, I suppose not. But what if she does now?”

  “More than they currently have on us? Look, we aren’t the ones who gave them so much information.”

  “Nor are we! It was stolen from us by the Chinese and then traded on to these terrorists in exchange for a prisoner, as far as we can tell.”

  “Well, now you do have a chance to do something about it. Or more to the point, let us do something about it. We’re about to witness one of the biggest coming together in the history of known terrorist groups. Added to that is all this leaked information that risks both our nations. We know they have this information. Plus, they kidnapped the Chinese official to obtain the blueprints for the power station, and since there is no obvious sign yet that he’s been released, we can only assume it’s still their main agenda. Thrown in for good measure, we now have the biggest traitor your Security Service has known since you were formed. As the icing on the cake, it’s assumed this Chinese agent, their Shadow Man that for too long has embarrassed both our nations right under our noses, is most probably coming to save his girl. It’s a power play to end all power plays. We’ve managed to position everyone in the same place at the same time. She’ll give us the precise location, and after that, we’ll let our jets do the rest.”

  “You’re going to send in the air force?”

  “We have aircraft carriers in the South Atlantic moving into position as we speak. We’ll use our planes to blow up the entire gathering and do something right for everyone’s sake.”

  “You aren’t ever going to be able to destroy these groups in one airstrike, and you must know that. They’ll just fill the spaces with more people.”

  “Of course we know that, but it’ll set them back a long way, and if we are to believe the reports of who is coming, they’ll lose significant personnel, not to mention the information we can’t afford them to obtain.”

  “And you’ll take out the Chinese.”

  “Yes, that is, shall we say, an inevitable side effect and one you’ll have to admit is a very agreeable one.”

  Both men could see the value in that.

  “It’s risky. What do the Nigerians say about it?”

  “What isn’t risky? Besides, we’re not informing the Nigerians about the operation yet. We’ll do so when the planes are already in the air. We can’t risk word getting out, anythin
g to suggest what we have in mind; if the terrorists don’t hear it, the Chinese might. Nothing can get in the way of this operation now. We expect the same from you, too.”

  He wasn’t happy being told so late, but what was now being proposed did fit with what they had, in fact, asked the Americans to do just weeks before. Though they wouldn’t have willingly involved Elizabeth in it all, they could see that their objectives would be met by just leaving the Americans to it, if of course, they could do everything they were suggesting.

  “You have my word. I’ll have to file a report, just a paper trail, you know how it goes, stating that we were aware of the operation before the news gets announced but were required to keep it quiet until after the air strikes were made. Then we’ll inform the Prime Minister. It’ll, of course, become big news and there’ll be a storm to ride from our part, but some sections will agree with our actions, especially if you are successful. You can’t mess this one up. We can’t be known to have been involved in some operation that ends up killing hundreds of innocent people, letting the terrorists escape and firing them up even more for revenge.”

  “Look, you know how these things go. We are working within precise parameters. It all depends on us being able to track her location to a specific place. Once we have a fix, we’ll take a flyover with the satellite and confirm what there is on the ground. It’s unlikely to be anywhere near civilian populations, but knowing how these guys work, we can’t rule it out. Still, the fact that so many outsiders are coming, and they’ve been holding this Chinese man for a month already, suggests it’s a remote location where they can do what they please.”

  “But if it’s not? You are suggesting you’ll take action regardless?”

  “I didn’t say anything like that; only we don’t yet know. But if that were the case, would you refuse to take the shot just because there might be some civilian casualties? I’m afraid we certainly wouldn’t see it like that.”

  “My God, you’re leading us to a massacre, aren’t you?”

  “I certainly hope not. You have to hear this. But we can’t let them get away this time. Do you know how long we hunted for Bin Laden? Do you know the resources, the battles we fought, to get him? The men we lost?”

  “And yet al-Qaeda continue to operate to this very day, and dare I say, bigger than ever before.”

  “That is because when we killed him, he was a fugitive, he’d long since handed over all control to others. He remained just a figurehead.”

  “Who in his death you made a martyr.”

  “That’s not a word I would use for someone like him now, is it?”

  “Well, maybe not in our world.”

  “Anyway, the point is, Bin Laden was payment for 9/11. It was never going to have an actual impact on his terrorist organisation because he was in hiding, others had taken over the reins and had been doing it for some time. This is different. The men who are now on their way to Nigeria are the current command structures of all these latest groups, not only the splintered remains of al-Qaeda but the Taliban too, not to mention those monsters from Daesh. They couldn’t risk sending anyone else to this meeting, because of the presence of the other groups. They all want to be number one, they all want to be seen for who they are, which is why I firmly believe we’ll see them all come, all key personnel. It’s a show of power more than anything. They all want what Boko Haram has to offer, and none of them wants to miss out. It’s the fear of missing out that will bring them to Nigeria. And that is why this offers us a unique opportunity.”

  “I still don’t know why Elizabeth needed to be handed over to them.”

  “Just something to sweeten the deal. They’ll be so fixed on her, on the thought that they have a British agent in custody, that they won’t see anything else coming. It’ll make them feel invincible, feel powerful. It’ll make them drop their guard. Plus she’ll lead us right to them.”

  “If the tracking device is still active. What if they discover it?”

  “It’s still active so far, so I think that’s a good sign. She’s in Burkina Faso as we speak, moving towards the border.”

  “It’s the handover I was meaning. When she gets handed to the actual militants in Nigeria, surely they’ll suspect something.”

  “Not necessarily. They know the people bringing her down, they would just assume they captured her. There is no way her captors will let them know the truth. It gives them certain powers to be known as a group able to capture foreign spies.”

  “Still, there are a lot of things that could go wrong.”

  “Only in your pessimistic British head, my friend.”

  “Well, we can’t all be naive Americans now, can we?”

  There was a silence, but both saw the humour of their latest exchange.

  “Look, I think we’ve covered every base here, so I’ll leave you to put something on paper as you suggested, but please assure me, nothing gets said until after we’ve reported the airstrike.”

  “You have my word. Look, we are in agreement with you on this one. I won’t make any reference to Elizabeth, either now or later. Assuming you get everything done correctly, she’ll soon disappear, and I’ll just have to be content with the knowledge that she had what was coming to her, even if some will never know she’s not still on the run.”

  “Well, good luck with all that. I’ll keep you informed.”

  The line went dead.

  25

  Ghana, West Africa

  Gudu broke cover after just three days in the forests of southern Ghana. His satellite phone showed that Elizabeth was on the move. And nothing about her movements suggested she was doing it voluntarily. Elizabeth was north of him, in Burkina Faso, albeit over seven hundred kilometres north. And she was still moving, east, towards the border with Benin, and beyond that, Nigeria. Her speed of movement suggested she was in a land convoy. She’d apparently flown into Burkina Faso, however.

  He knew she had no plans, and no reason to travel to Nigeria if that was in fact where she was heading. It was possible she’d heard about the Chinese captive, but highly unlikely. Firstly, she’d never really known him personally, never having worked with him, as far as he knew. She was also off the grid, and she’d left the employment of the Chinese, intending, and indeed needed, to hide from those that would undoubtedly come looking. Had they already found her, therefore, so soon into her new life? Of course in the first few weeks, she was probably the most vulnerable, as time brought more significant opportunity to conceal herself. Maybe Morocco had been the wrong choice for her, perhaps she stuck out too much, her pure white skin just drawing too much attention? That was the last thing she wanted.

  Maybe he should have stopped her from heading there, but it had only been one of a few options they discussed on the crossing to the Netherlands, and they had been clear not to tell the other where they were heading anyway. She had known even then, given the opportunity, he would come and find her, not knowing that he’d already planted the device to make that possible.

  It was that same device, hidden in her shoe that lay in a bag in the van beside her captors, that had alerted him to the irrational behaviour. It worried him.

  He was less than fifty kilometres from the Togolese border and Lomé, the capital city and critical trading port immediately across the national divide. Gudu had been to Togo several times before, and it was the one local passport he held in his name for the region, which usually made travel in neighbouring countries more accessible, though he’d never had a problem also using it in Togo. Hitching a ride with a truck driver heading east along the N1, Gudu was at the border within an hour and thanked the driver. He’d offered to take Gudu further as he was entering Lomé, carrying supplies to the port for sale and shipping later that day. Instead, Gudu trusted his instincts and went about on foot. He would find a truck to hire once in Lomé and would take it north. Something with local licence plates on it was also far less conspicuous, though it was true many vehicles from the various neighbouring countries, both n
ear and far, were commonplace there, especially in the busy capital. Lomé was home to a little under one million people.

  As Gudu expected, he had no problems entering the country, on what was mainly an open border and being a walk-through, his documents were not even checked. Less than five minutes later, he was already in Lomé City limits, the open-air markets giving off a rich aroma of the products on offer.

  Next to where the long stretch of sandy beach started, he found somewhere to eat. Taking thirty minutes, he formed a plan for the afternoon, without bringing any attention to himself. It was a popular tourist destination and having outsiders in this part of the city, as well as Lomé itself, was nothing unusual. Just around the corner from where he was eating, he found the rental firm for which he was looking. All they offered were large 4x4 vehicles, the very type of mini truck you’d need to navigate some of the harsher terrain further north, even if they did look somewhat out of place in a flat port city like Lomé. Still, many people drove them, the vast gaps between rich and poor very evident everywhere he’d been so far.

  His information got checked, twice, but he was paying a significant amount of cash, plus a large deposit. The trucks were over-insured, anyway, so the manager had no real fears in hiring out another of his vehicles to yet another foreigner no doubt looking for some adventure. Only a few ever really found it, sometimes adventure finding them. Not every customer lived to return the vehicle, however. Maybe this simple looking Chinese man would fall into that category, perhaps not?

  Just twenty minutes after first walking into the rental office, Gudu was driving out his newly leased Land Rover, a vehicle that couldn’t have been less than twenty years old, the mileage no doubt on its second, or third time around, but it ran well. That’s why they were so popular in the area. It would suit him for what he needed it for, and that was to get moving. He’d use the main routes as much as possible, mainly because they offered the paved roads, and while he had the vehicle to handle the alternatives, taking too many of the dirt mountain tracks would eat away at the time. He was hoping to intercept Elizabeth and whoever she was with somewhere en route. It would remain to be seen whether that was possible, and depended mostly on what course they took, and where exactly they were heading.