The Clinic

by Ray Carole

  His reason for being in the thick of it even though this outcome was not expected, was actually looking less likely to be a coincidence now. That said, he trusted Sully to the death. Knowing he had to execute a mission-critical order, these were tragic orders as Gerry’s guts were churning. Once he briefed up Sean at the next stop, the next move would have to be made and he only hoped Sean would commit without question.

  ‘What’s the plan then Andrew?’ Gerry asked.

  ‘We’re about 60 miles away so roughly three or so hours to Harry’s location. We’ll head off for an hour or so before we refuel and try and make another call. I’m starving too so we’ll quickly boil up some rations, you hungry mate?’ Andrew asked Gerry.

  ‘Not just you then, I’m starving Si, sounds great.’

  Gerry was relieved. He and Sean needed a stop to action the orders Sully had quickly sent him. The fact he sent them via encrypted data let Gerry know how serious he was about the Russians being involved. They wouldn’t know a tracking beacon had this facility, as it was the newest beacon available so they wouldn’t have intercepted Sully’s last data message, or certainly not decrypted it.

  Gerry had always had that gut instinct that Sully was holding back at the beginning of this op. It gave him satisfaction knowing his instincts were right again, but his instincts were not so sure about Sully’s orders.

  Instead, what he had just learnt about his whole operation just smelt of Sully’s ambition and risk-averse attitude that always culminated in a flip of a coin. A smile crossed his face as he thought about Sully back in his command centre watching this all unfold. Such was his faith and trust in his operators on the ground, Sully knew things always tended to work out. Although Gerry would have put money on Sully being gutted to not be with them and closing in hard with the Russians if he was correct.

  All the pieces started to fall into place in this most bizarre scenario. He was a little shocked to think how Sully predicted they would end up with the Trans-Ant team at this point in the game.

  Genius maybe or just another well-thought-out contingency?

  Sully was a maverick. Orders were orders. To him it just reaffirmed his position in their close partnership of the past. If he wanted this partnership to continue, Gerry had to enter the fray again and get his hands dirtier than ever.

  Grabbing the phone off the dashboard Andrew tried it again with the same result.

  ‘Fucking shit,’ he proclaimed.

  ‘Okay John let’s pull up, refuel and get some hot food on.’

  ‘OK mate, I’ll set us down over there,’ John pointed to a flat area a few hundred metres away.

  Reaching for his two-way radio to inform the other team to stop he can hear the radio’s ominous static tone as he lifts the handset to his lips already telling him that it won’t work.

  ‘Polar, solar bloody hot spots,’ throwing the handset on the dashboard instead of replacing it on its bracket.

  The truck came to a halt. The other truck pulled up alongside.

  Each team knew what was happening so immediately got out of their wagons and began fixing up the hydraulic fuel pump to the barrel full of fuel.

  The rear wagon with the logistics trailer had a mini kitchen that comprised of a two-point stove and Burco boiler with a few electrical items running off the small generator.

  Mike got straight on it and placed a load of meals in the Burco and lined up six thermal mugs for a much-treasured brew, once the guys had finished the refuel and maintenance checks.

  Weather was clear and the temperature was actually mild. Mild enough for John to place a load of fold-up chairs out to sit on whilst they had their evening meal and a hot coffee.

  Sean showed willing and was helping the guys with the refuelling. Meanwhile Gerry paced around thinking about how the next hand was best played.

  Making out he was going for a piss he walked 30 metres away for his final deliberation.

  Confirming in his mind he had interpreted the data correctly his decision was clear-cut. Turning to walk back he saw John holding up a mug and orange ration bag, indicating to Gerry that his food and hot brew was ready.

  Everyone was sitting down as Gerry walked over to join them.

  As he approached John who was still standing, John held both his hands out offering the food and coffee.

  Gerry pulled his right hand out and before John could articulate what Gerry was holding, he had two bullets in his head.

  Dropping without a sound Gerry turned his immediate attention to Mike who was just about to climb out of his chair. Before his ass cheeks left the seat he sat back down. Dead.

  Two bullets to his forehead in quick succession just like John.

  A quick spray of red mist puffed into the air followed by the solid liquid blood with bone fragments and torn flesh exiting and staining the ice.

  This signature technique known as a double tap in the business was pure instinctive shooting. Professionals never fired a single shot, by the end of their training it would be the most unnatural action they could contemplate and it served its purpose.

  Two shots equalled maximum trauma to the victim with no time-lapse to evaluate if the shot has been fatal. Victims can be lucky with one headshot as weird flukes can occasionally happen. Two shots eradicates this variable.

  Gerry looked at Andrew’s face, it was obvious his fear was paralysed by the shock, time for him was standing still in a freeze-frame that gave him a perfect picture of his lifelong friends motionless splayed awkwardly on the floor and slumped in a chair.

  He shook uncontrollably and certainly hadn’t registered the urine free-flowing down the insides of his thighs.

  Dave and Sean remained seated in the same state of shock as Andrew facing Gerry. It was no good, they knew it was over, why run?

  Sean who was also paralysed with horror knowing that this wasn’t in the script and he wouldn’t be able to get his pistol out fast enough to retaliate. If he did he would be dead for sure as Gerry would see the threat and terminate it straight away.

  He knew his only option was to sit it out and hope he was still part of this operation that was evidently taking a new turn for the worst.

  Concluding quickly that Gerry would have killed him first if that was his fate made the decision to remain still and continue to shit himself like Dave next to him.

  Gerry turned to look at Dave wondering if his fight-or-flight mechanism would take over.

  Flight would mean staying the fuck still and hedging his bets.

  Fight… Slumped down in the foldable chair his ass almost touching the ice Dave obviously decided to get up. Pushing down hard with his arms to generate enough force to push himself up and out the chair he started the movement, Gerry registered it and finished him off in an instant with the exact same treatment as the previous two with a double tap just above the bridge of Dave’s nose, almost through the same hole.

  Gerry didn’t even watch to confirm his shots had been fatal, and instead the pistol was trained on Sean, knowing Andrew was zero threat being in a catatonic state with steam rising though his dampened trousers.

  Gerry knew Andrew would have physically shit himself too; one rarely comes without the other on these occasions.

  The orders Sully had given him in his last paragraph had just been carried out in the professional manner Gerry always subscribed to.

  Calm, calculated and causing as little distress to the victims as possible. It wasn’t personal. It was the last thing Gerry wanted to do, ever.

  This is why people like Gerry were and still are at the cutting edge of this ruthless business.

  ‘Don’t fucking move,’ Gerry says in a controlled voice, breaking Andrew out of his current state.

  ‘Sean the plan has changed. Sorry I couldn’t warn you, it was an ideal situation so I took the initiative. Get y
our weapon out and keep an eye on Andrew. We need him, and need him alive,’ Gerry casually dropped his weapon down to his side now the formalities were over.

  ‘No problem, thanks for that one,’ Sean replied with a lump in his throat and still a bit sheepishly shocked by Gerry’s behaviour.

  In the still of Antarctica three bodies were splayed out with blood running from the exit wounds at the rear of their heads.

  Andrew was clenching the foldable chair’s arms like he was on a white-knuckle ride. Relieved he wasn’t dead, Sean got busy telling him to remain seated but twist his chair around so he wasn’t facing them.

  Dignity was needed Sean thought, as he knew Gerry must have received a fast set of orders from Sully in order for this massacre to happen at such lightning speed, and in such a heartless fashion.

  Gerry stood next to the front wagon looking to the horizon, pistol still in his right hand hanging at his side, he could feel the minor tremors rushing through his hands shaking the pistol slightly. Not tempted to tense his hands to counteract the sensation, he knew all too well that to counter tension, you didn’t resist it, instead you embraced it with total relaxation.

  He looked at his watch. In three hours they were entering an ambush situation to meet WHITEOUT.

  The Russians knew they were coming.

  The Russians couldn’t know that he knew about them.

  The question running over and over in Gerry’s mind was how the hell is WHITEOUT playing this? He must know that he holds the strongest possible position for all of them even if he is captured, he mused.

  If The Clinic is to get out of the killing zone alive, with the Russians all dead WHITEOUT must surely know how to orchestrate this Gerry thought. WHITEOUT will set something up whether it’s stalling tactics, a diversion or maybe he has pretended to turn if somehow he now knows he has been the target of a failed assassination.

  Gerry actually contemplates this.

  Thinking that if he was WHITEOUT and had just evaded death from the British government would the Russians then become his safest option?

  No, Gerry knew that WHITEOUT would never trust the Russians even if he didn’t trust us anymore, but deep down Gerry knew it was a weak conclusion, only based on what he wanted to think WHITEOUT was thinking.

  In three hours Gerry knew that he would only have one chance to read the scenario perfectly without any of them showing their hand too early. Deciding what side WHITEOUT had chosen would dictate the outcome of Op Ignition.

  Three hours…

  Chapter 36

  All three bodies were placed in Bivvy bags, normally they were only used as body bags in times of war when the proper body bags ran out. It wasn’t a logistical predicament expected on the Antarctic plateau.

  Andrew wept as he was ordered to help Sean throw the lifeless bodies of his best friends into the back of the rear truck trailer. Visibly shaking and no doubt wondering if he would be next to go on the pile no dignity, no story to tell or questions answered.

  ‘Get your hands on the steering wheel Andrew,’ Gerry commanded.

  Throughout this episode there was one thing that managed to penetrate deep down inside Andrew, cutting through the layers of raw emotion and stabilising his current shock state.

  Who is Harry Decker really?

  Has he played us? What the fuck is actually happening here?

  Another guy they trusted looked after and adopted as one of their own in Punta. He knew in some way this was his fault, or certainly the result of something he was caught up in somehow, it had to be.

  Using 4 doubled-up zip ties to attach his hands to the steering wheel of the first wagon, Andrew was now officially a prisoner.

  Following Sully’s hunch, Gerry and Sean now had to plan a counter-ambush. Limited equipment and possibly outnumbered, it was another scenario where the odds were stacked against The Clinic.

  They had enough weaponry to give the Russians a really bad day; it was just how they employed them initially without giving the game away, they needed to get the upper hand. Surprise was needed, but all the surprises had come from them at the moment, the balance needed addressing.

  Walking to the back of the truck Gerry turned to Sean to get him up to speed. ‘This isn’t ideal mate but we’re about to enter an ambush. Sully is certain WHITEOUT has been captured due to him calling in unexpectedly with his random excuse for us to pick him up.’

  ‘What the fuck, when did this happen?’ Sean replied, clearly still a little shaken after Gerry’s murder rampage 30 minutes previously and probably feeling completely out of the loop.

  ‘What about Mick? Is he dead, with the Russians or still out there?’

  ‘There is no beacon activity so we must assume he is dead, still out there or captured with them,’ Gerry replied. ‘Let’s just look at what we have got to go with on this Sean, I’m under the pump too here just following Sully’s orders.’ Gerry calmly started talking already forgetting about the whys, the whats, the what ifs, even momentarily forgetting about the three calculated head shots he’d just dished out.

  ‘Well the Russians are expecting us to roll up in two trucks with six people if they have done their research. And for us to turn up in three hours or so. They know we want WHITEOUT, and if Sully is right about the Russians, they won’t be handing the fucker over for the spare cash we’ve got left with us.’ Looking at Sean and sighing he lightly scratched his chin his go-to movement when the odds were complex.

  ‘How do we know the Russians know we are with the Trans-Ant Team?’ Sean asked. ‘I mean does Sully know this for sure or is it just another wild swing of the bat Gerry?’

  ‘Could be an assumption but his assumptions normally have some beef to them. We have to plan as if they know we are here to collect, but also play it out as if they don’t.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘I reckon the Russians have intercepted our transmissions. Vostok is only 400-500 miles away, they must have launched from there if Sully is right. When we start to plan this next part we do it so it looks like Trans-Ant do not have us with them. It’s a little more risky and will mean getting up close without weapons on show. Maybe you holding back and hitting them from a longer range may be possible, but again even more risky,’ Gerry stated.

  ‘Yeah it’s another shit deal. The Russians will also be wondering whether we have Trans-Ant under duress, or if we have remained covert to the last safe moment without them knowing that WHITEOUT is our target. Would the Russians know we’re playing the part of our documentary makers?’ Sean suggested.

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine Sean. In fact it doesn’t really change the price of fish mate what we’re pretending we are now.’

  ‘Yep so we will have to plan it from both perspectives. They’ll be looking for the initial telltale signs of Trans-Ant being under duress. Anything suspicious will spook them.’

  ‘Like three dead members of the team in the back of that trailer for example and Andrew strapped to the steering wheel?’ Causing Gerry to smile, it wasn’t often that Sean showed his dry sense of humour.

  ‘Yeah there is that I suppose,’ Gerry chuckled, ‘we hide that small point, we have a fighting chance. Like I said a minute ago, if we get close enough without them knowing for sure what’s happening, we might just get our window of opportunity.’

  ‘How do you see the Russians posturing themselves for our arrival? Full-scale ambush or more of a blaze reception party, safety in numbers and all that?’

  ‘I reckon a tent inner will be set up with WHITEOUT in it. They will be hidden close by with clear arcs of observation and fire, or he will be in the open. They will watch it all unfold to the part where we approach the tent or him. This is their only opportunity to gauge what the facts are. They will be trying to identify us for sure, and it will be hard for them if we’re not showing weapons.’

 
‘I agree mate. What are you thinking?’

  ‘They may have photos of Trans-Ant off the website but those will be of no use as we’ll be wearing goggles and jackets etc. They will have to make a decision to close us all down, and I reckon they will make it before any verbal contact is made with WHITEOUT—’

  ‘Otherwise WHITEOUT will blow it for them by shouting his head off.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Gerry felt good inwardly, his instincts giving him faith that he was thinking along the right lines. They would turn up as the Trans-Ant team and once they saw WHITEOUT on his own waving at the wagons they would approach him. Hiding behind cover the Russians would wait till they were close enough before initiating the ambush, but the Russians had some problems too.

  Killing Trans-Ant team was a must but they needed Gerry intact, even Sean too and they didn’t know what he looked like. How they differentiated this in a matter of seconds was their problem. They couldn’t shoot the wrong people – Gerry had all the answers and WHITEOUT was useless without him.

  It was obvious Gerry and Sean would be the ones that had pistols or high-calibre weapons, they needed to choose their time carefully to disclose these items to identify themselves clearly to the Russians watching.

  As Gerry weighed it up he aired his fears to Sean.

  ‘Let’s focus on what we do know to be fact and that starts with us two. Weapons? We have two Glocks plus the M4 rifle, a H&K G28 that will give us a stand-off of 500 metres plus and these two Arctic Trucks, that’s the tangibles covered. Importantly we have Andrew as the point of contact to meet WHITEOUT. We have communications but we can safely assume the Russians are intercepting the satellite phone but probably not the handheld radios as we close in, unless they have a frequency scanner with them.’

  Sean nodded not wanting to interrupt Gerry’s flow.

  ‘Now I think they must have been intercepting the sat phone calls. If I was the Russians, the only time I would have realised WHITEOUT was vitally important was when I gave Mick the pep talk after Robby was killed. I mentioned WHITEOUT was a lynchpin in the next phase of this revolutionary psychological warfare that we’re going to launch soon. My fuck-up, but if I was a Russian and heard that amidst WHITEOUT killing the men after him, I would want a part of the action, agree?