by Ray Carole
He paused. Was going for broke and telling all of his followers his conclusion a bad idea?
Looking into the camera he quickly ran a new script through his mind. The red record button went still. He was on.
‘Hello Mohammed, I hope you are well and this reaches you. I don’t have much time and have to explain this fast. I know why you lost your faith and belief, why you decided to leave Iraq and live like us infidels.’
Decker smirked.
‘The Cell I believe was some sort of covert mind manipulation program. Not a new super cell as we thought.
‘I’m not talking brainwashing or inserting chips into us like we were robots. I am talking about a longer term Program that somehow conditioned our minds to think and behave differently. I know now why you and Larnaka were chosen for The Cell. It’s because the you are Arabic, and the current threat of terrorism is mainstream Arabic followers who follow Islam. It was a language, faith and mental resilience test.
Members of our Cell were systematically exposed to some kind of subliminal intrusions, to elicit a new behaviour, belief, attitude - call it whatever but look at the facts.
Andy turned against our Cell, became paranoid about all of us, then we all remember that night. The night he was supposed to be flying away for two weeks leave, we found him after kicking the door in. Hanging.’
He paused, he would never erase that image of Andy hanging there. His lifeless body slowly twisting back and forth.
‘He killed himself of course, but what led him to it? Manipulation I’m sure.’
He looked straight into the camera, wanting Mo to know that he was serious.
‘Johnny tried to kill Larnaka twice, succeeding the second time I believe. He was somehow made to think that he could get away with killing a member of our Cell innocently with an excuse to cover it all up. That’s two people’ He held two frozen fingers up to the camera.
‘The next part revolves around you. And this is critical to how this mind manipulation stuff will be used in the future.
‘You over time were manipulated to turn against your belief and religion. To rebel against what was going on, almost become neutral. Imagine how powerful this will be with extreme terrorism and the cells that implement it.
‘My only remaining questions for a while related to Larnaka and me.
‘One, why didn’t I do anything about it when I could see the alarm bells and pattern forming? And why did Larnaka show no overt signs?
‘The key piece is Larnaka was manipulated to befriend me and and extract certain things from me and she succeeded. We, or I fell in love with her and disclosed stuff I shouldn’t have.
‘And me?
Decker could kind of see the genius in what he was about to say next.
‘They manipulated me to not see any of it. As the leader they managed to prevent me questioning it, but just rationalising it like I did back then. Then after I got sent back they continued manipulating me so I would kill myself like Andy. Which I almost did but I invented a concept I called the FEAR in my mind. I thought I was clever inventing it to isolate and cure my depressive demise. The brutal and shocking truth I realise now is the opposite. The FEAR infiltrated me, infiltrated us years ago. This FEAR is real.
‘I don’t know what their real name is, or what the program name is but it’s a real organisation I am sure. I was a step away from these people making me commit suicide.
‘You Mo? Christ I hope you are alive but I don’t think they would have pursued you. You were the perfect working example. A living product that proved success and how you could transform the thought processes and beliefs of a Muslim.
‘Initially I thought my concept was inconceivable but the more I thought about you and Larnaka the more it made sense.
‘Imagine how this could be used to almost reverse brainwashed extremists, to de-radicalise them. Getting terrorist cell members to turn on each other, install paranoia, soften them up to become agents even…
‘The most powerful form of manipulation is what they have done to you, making you think you didn’t believe anymore.
‘I’m running out of time and we need to meet when I return. Look up Harry Decker South Pole expedition.com. If I make it you will hear from me again. If not then you need to make sure this goes public.
‘I have to go, give me the benefit of the doubt on this.
‘Gods speed.
‘Bye.’
Chapter 10
Silence ensued as the video played then ended. Sully had been staring hard at the bearded man whilst he ranted on. The eyes were familiar, he knew this man, he was sure of it.
‘Alex, who is this?’
‘This is P822—’
‘Not his codename, I want his file now. Drag it up, Beast,’ Sully ordered. Alex remained quiet. He expected Sully to piece it all together shortly so didn’t bother insulting his intelligence.
Beast played about with the computer frantically moving the mouse about, entering certain passwords before dragging up a file, then hitting the photo knowing Sully would want to see his face.
The screen was full with P822’s image, a head-size photo that could have jumped out at Sully and hit him hard.
Which Sully looked at and sighed inwardly as he remembered the last time he saw this man. On part of him wanted to smile, another contained his rage. Sully never made mistakes. Maybe he had overlooked something.
How ironic he thought as he turned to face Alex who was clearly expecting a first-class bollocking from his red-faced, breath-holding expression.
Times like these Sully wanted to scratch his head and even shout an expletive but now was the time for tactical thinking, not an outburst of frustration.
‘Is this what you call us “never hearing from him again” Alex?’ Sully barked out.
‘When I saw him standing on the edge of Old Harry Rocks thinking that this Phase of the Program was complete he turned and walked away. Remember?’
‘Yes I remember -‘
‘And do you remember what I said?’
Alex knew Sully was in flow and interrupting would only infuriate him.
‘I said let’s take him out, no loose ends but you said, and I fucking quote “Leave it to me Sully, I will get this all sorted so he won’t recall any of it, and he can live without anymore trauma”.’
An uncomfortable silence ensued. Beast was on the fence wondering who would pipe up next.
‘Let me explain Sully, this is all-‘
‘Shut up Alex, I’m not interested in what you tried doing. What I have now is an intercepted video call to Mohammed dispensing his theory about The Cell back then. And we now have a Memory Card in Antarctica with all of it on it. And... the person it’s attached to is no idiot.’
Alex took his glasses off. Always his symptom of huge stress. As he pulled his hanky out to rub them Beast noticed he was shaking.
Sully let out a sigh ‘Well this changes things a little doesn’t it guys. Our quiet get together tonight to formally invite Bob and Gerry into The Clinic and a few beers after, has just escalated into a manhunt.’
‘Right Beast get to it’
‘Yes Boss’ Beast took his seat again.
Alex followed Sully out of the door.
Stopping after a few metres Sully turned to Alex whispering ‘One, you ever lie to me again about some bloke on a solo expedition I will destroy you, and two, get the hell out of here for two weeks while we clean up this mess.’
Alex replaced his glasses and opened his mouth to speak. Sully silenced him by placing his index finger over his own lips. Alex took the hint.
Sully walked down the corridor aware that Alex was probably close to tears behind him.
‘What was on the dictaphone?’ Alex asked.
Sully didn’t even flinch or break
his stride.
Alex needed to understand that he was a geek and not one of the big boys who would end up getting their hands dirty.
‘Sully listen to me. What I have to say might change your view on things.’
Sully ignored him.
As Alex replaced his glasses he thought ‘Sod him, the arrogant prick’.
In a few moments Sully knew he would be telling Gerry and Bob that they had a problem, but he wouldn’t divulge exactly how big it was. Still slightly off balance by the video he also realised this would be a brilliant run out for the Clinic’s first live operation. His boss had assured him they wouldn’t pry into his modus operandi, or trace his transactions around the globe. They wanted results and if they were delivered without recourse, then no questions asked. This was a great opportunity to give that trust element the acid test.
Striding up and down the corridor he was already looking at solutions to this possible problem. That was crap. He never did problems. They were blatant opportunities to show off his lateral thinking that was lightning fast, detailed and always credible.
A few more strikes to suck up the smell of fresh paint interspersed with an odour of wood shavings, he headed back to the briefing room.
Punching hard through the doors Sully cut to the chase.
‘That black dot Gerry?’
Knowing an answer wasn’t expected. It’s a memory card and that huge white screen it’s marked on is Antarctica. To finish, it’s in the possession of a man who is now the biggest threat I believe we have to National Security. We ain’t rolling anything out revolutionary until we have that card, camera and him’.
‘So this guy has beaten the program Sully?’ Gerry though modest, smiled a little smug smile which Sully was quick to wipe away.
‘It’s not a test candidate malfunctioning, it’s a former member of my team who helped implement the project. He’s managed to screw his own mind up, and worse still, about to expose the existence of this outfit.’
Sully paused as he knew that everything would be flying around Gerry and Bob’s heads. Thirty minutes ago they were being introduced to a organisation called The Clinic that was going to revolutionise psychological warfare. After a few interruptions they were now facing a dangerous loose end that needed eliminating. With their experience they would both know exactly what this meant for that black dot on the board.
Erase.
Sully slapped his hands together and piped back up.
‘This is our immediate problem, nothing else matters so no more questions on this project’s inception or delivery systems. Everyone understand this?’
This was barked out more like an order and pretty damn arrogant on Sully’s part, as both men hadn’t even signed up to this yet. Sod that, Sully thought. He needed to move rapidly on this.
‘Who here has heard of Harry Decker?’
Chapter 11
With zero response to his question about the knowledge of Harry Decker, he turned once again to the whiteboard and rubbed out the black dot. Always the showman, Sully remained silent for a few more seconds.
He started writing, the board squeaking under the pressure of the pen. Finishing with a massive circle around his work, he stepped away, placed the lid on the pen and faced the guys.
No surprises really.
‘Harry Decker = CODENAME ‘WHITEOUT.’ Block capitals, plain to see. WHITEOUT – the name given to a target and Decker had just made himself one whether he realised it or not. A man on his own in Antarctica battling the elements, his physical endurance and sanity had just almost compromised The Clinic.
Luckily the intercepted and now destroyed video diary that Mohammed or the public would never see was the last risk that Sully could take. If the public had seen this video they would have viewed a delirious man rant about a covert mind-manipulation programme. The public and government people wouldn’t take into account he had walked 500 miles over 30 days, mostly in zero visibility on his own. The fact he was exhausted, paranoid and acting deliriously due to these factors would not bother them. It was an accusation about a conspiracy, and when a former Sergeant in Her Majesty’s SAS rants, people would look in and listen, in their thousands.
‘An hour ago we had the initial brief on what it is we’re doing here and who we are.’
He was met with curt nods.
‘What is going to happen now is simple, you can either leave now or get on board. In the last thirty minutes something I had not planned for has happened, but luckily we were monitoring this particular guy. And make no bones about it, you join us today and subsequently fuck about like this guy, it’s your name on the board.’
Bob was the first to speak up. ‘WHITEOUT it is Boss, I don’t give a flying fuck who Harry Decker is, if people like him overstep the mark, we take him down period.’
‘I concur Bob,’ Sully said unsurprised by Bob’s reply. Just Gerry now.
‘What has made this guy so fucked up if he was just monitoring the Project? I understand you don’t want to talk about the past candidates in this programme losing it big time, but why has he done this?’
‘Oversight on my part, after Beast has given you a full download on him shortly, you will see he was an ideal person to assist in this Project, but conversely was someone who may have let the past catch up with him. His knowledge of this project is creating a volatile cocktail in Antarctica driven by his exhaustion that is fuelling his PTSD.’
‘Did you say Antarctica?’
‘Yes South Pole type Antarctica Gerry, he has walked 500 miles on his own for the last month or so and has 117,000 followers.’
‘Wow, wow, okay rewind, so you think his PTSD has lain dormant for years? He then works with you so knows the whole process of this project, and is now so fucked up he’s not sure if he’s a victim of the project, and hence a target, or has he simply lost the plot?’
‘In all honesty I don’t know, but we have to close him down and do it in the next 10-12 days before he goes public. Look Gerry this is a fastball for sure, unexpected. We need to move, so yes or no?’
Gerry nodded at him slowly. ‘Okay Sully I am in, but expect more questions from me later.’
‘Of course Gerry, I know that was ambiguous but we are going to receive a brief by the Beast who like myself has had the drop on this potential situation a few days back. He will let you know exactly where we’re at with WHITEOUT, again guys WHITEOUT. That’s our target’s name and must be referred to always as that from now on, facts not emotions.’ Sully had to hammer this home, no one likes to kill what could be regarded as an extended family member, but given the choice, they had no choice.
‘Due to the time sensitivity, that walk down the corridor has already given me a few options that I think are viable but will run them by you in a bit.’
‘Once we go firm on our preferred option I will then allocate your specific phases of responsibility for the OPERATIONAL PLANNING SEQUENCE (OPS) that I will give the Asset tomorrow morning at 0900 hours. We’ve literally got 8-10 hours guys to bang this out.’
It was a war-gaming process, essentially the who, what, where, when, and critically the how, for the Asset to take down WHITEOUT. Each person around the table had spent years of their lives perfecting every strategy from every angle.
Sully’s eyes were gleaming now. He thrived on the OPS; it was the strategic art of killing your unsuspecting enemy and getting the hell out normally without being caught in the crossfire. Predicting the unpredictable, controlling the controllable bound together with psychology, intelligence reports, and external factors like weather, time zones as well as equipment and assets available. After everything was considered and thrown into the melting pot, it was down to him to decide the plan of action to be executed. This had always been where Sully had ruthlessly excelled.
In the hours to come the whole team would be imagining the
whole operation, literally lived out moment by moment, infiltration till the extraction. Every single action to be taken with all its possible consequences, thrashed out in order to anticipate contingencies. Any unpredicted behaviour of WHITEOUT, as well as possible individual errors of the team executing the task. This was a part amateurs skipped over. Anticipating the human factor or more bluntly the fuck-ups from your own men. War-gaming was the full package with no shortcuts, shortcuts were for the cuff merchants and cost too many lives, with too many excuses.
Sully started his brief.
‘As you know the OPS can be a highly complicated process trying to create a work or plan of genius. In reality guys, the core elements of the plan will be simple. Simplicity always withstands pressure, that’s an undisputed fact of high intensity warfare, and a fact I live by.
‘However the attention to detail required goes up a notch with this deniable luxury we have. Only the sharpest minds in the business can possibly execute it, and that’s why we’re all here.’ This was the first compliment Sully had given his team. He looked as uncomfortable giving it as the team felt receiving it, he twitched and moved on.
‘The plan at large I have decided, and it’s driven by the strict timeline of 10-12 days, as well as location. I am already thinking of preferred options so there’s no point fucking about with your input, no offence guys but you know the score.’
Sully didn’t mind the notion of a Chinese parliament of everyone putting in their two pennies worth, but Chinese parliaments could quickly lead to an Irish one with each member thinking he has the master plan. When extreme timelines were involved authoritarian leadership was required.
About to carry on, one of the double doors silently opened and Beast entered, taking a seat on his left. Not interrupting his flow Sully showed no acknowledgement and pressed on.
‘We know WHITEOUT is in Antarctica, we also know that you don’t just book a flight to a blue ice runway there, get on a few snowmobiles with a shit load of weapons, drive up to WHITEOUT and put a few holes in his head before pissing off back home. Your latest Ridley Scott Hollywood blockbuster wouldn’t find this a problem, but that’s what differentiates reality against true events based on a fictitious novel by an armchair fanatic.’ Sully paused for breath.