by Ray Carole
‘Look, hands up Harry? Things went wrong, but I think you need to understand what The Clinic is, what exactly we had to do, to launch a hit into Antarctica. I had to throw the dice but I always allowed for two outcomes and I gave you a fighting chance.’
‘How?’
‘The Clinic had not been operational and Antarctica gave me the perfect operational run out for us. The Clinic has a revolutionary MO and is an asset deniable like no other, I was assured by my two paymasters that they would not interfere. For me I could launch this whole operation without over-watch. We could re-enter all the murky waters and back-channel dealings, bribery, sourcing of weapons, outside surveillance teams, even the assassination teams, the whole lot, with a shit load of money.’
‘And? Has there been any interference?’
‘No, thus far they don’t even know we’re here.’
‘The plan to rescue me?’
‘I made sure the assassination team were second-rate, and the two guys on your tail only had pistols so they would have to get up close to capture you, not take a cheap shot hundreds of metres away. Then they would phone me and I would have the conversation were having now…’
‘Yes, but you would be the one giving me the ultimatum, not me giving you one now?’
Sully sighed. ‘Exactly. You’ve done us all Harry.’ Sully clapped his hands. ‘In all honesty I thought you would kill them both then see how you reacted. I expected a call on their satellite phone, or Gerry would have got one from you asking questions when you scrolled the names in the phone.’
‘I would have and…’
‘I would have told you what I have told you now, or Gerry and Sean would have closed the back door and taken you out the game. But after killing a few people I thought it would snap you back into it. A little insurance policy for us but essentially the result I wanted – you on board.’
Decker was deliberating knowing full well the deviant master-plays Sully could pull out of his ass.
‘Time was my enemy. The risk of you causing rumours that would upset my bosses, causing people at Whitehall and Vauxhall to start digging around. In fact, everyone would ask questions and that meant shutting this all down. We were lucky we intercepted the video diary before it went viral.
‘Containing you was my objective and killing you wasn’t my first choice but a real possibility after we caught you and I spoke to you. With no power down there it was both a perfect window to get you before you spouted off again and a perfect opportunity to stress-test us all. Ironically it was to rescue our future commander if you take your head out of your ass for a second.’
Decker looked at Sully again wondering whether his psy-ops was still in full flow.
‘No video call Harry and we could have had this conversation at Starbucks.’
Smirking Decker felt amused by Sully’s attempt to try and regain control.
‘Tell me exactly how you fucked it all up, and what about our Russian friends? What’s the contingency to stop the Kremlin rattling the cage. Four Russians dead?’ Sully didn’t respond, Decker carried on: ‘The Russians? They intercepted it all didn’t they? Missed that Sully, slacking?’
Sully paused before talking, ‘When did you know we were here tracking you down? How did you know?’
‘South Africans Sully? Probably best trackers in the world, but not on fucking ice. Minus 40, limited visibility 70 mph winds. They got lazy.’
‘Oversight on two counts then. I certainly didn’t anticipate a Russian outstation clocking us,’ Sully said.
‘No shit, I saw them execute the other guy. Not the one I had to kill.’
‘You killed Robby…’
‘You killed Robby, you killed everyone Sully, even yourself maybe. When did you know the Russians had me prisoner?’
‘When I couldn’t contact Sean and I found out that you had called Andrew. I knew you must have got a battery from somewhere. Our guys have a different model Sat-Phone, not compatible. I saw Vostok on the map and it clicked, Russians must have deployed to try and rescue you.’
‘Fuck me, wanted dead and alive. You couldn’t make this shit up.’
‘So Plan B. Our documentary team to the rescue—’
‘And in the process murdering all of Trans-Ant team? You fucking sick bastards.’ He looked at Sully and pointed at Gerry.
‘I knew that didn’t add up when I spoke to Steve about two documentary-makers wanting to meet me. That’s when I realised for sure you were killers after me as the Russians made me arrange the RV.’
Sully carried on talking, ‘I knew you wouldn’t tell the Russians anything initially and thought you were lost to them, flown straight out to the FSB in Moscow.’
‘No just a few smashes around the face. I’ll live,’ Decker pointed to his bruised cheekbone.
‘But they got greedy…’ Sully added.
‘You both got greedy,’ Decker snapped back.
‘They worked out we’re called The Clinic when I told Mick, he’s the second guy who you killed.’
Decker stayed quiet not mentioning he was caught by the Russians.
‘They knew we had men with Trans-Ant. So I changed my mind, and the mission.’
‘Oh yeah I remember. Those were probably Andrew’s last words, “they are here to save you, not kill you”. Familiar?’
‘I realised at that point that the original plan could still work. You alive, and us to move on and forget about this fuck-up. And that’s true, no traps. I always wanted you to get through this. You gave me no choice, that video message—’
‘Who exactly do you think you are? Choice over life and death? We have four innocent guys dead, three South African mercenaries and four fucking Russians? I would be worried about that one. This isn’t a fucking game you psychopathic egocentric maniac.’
Slamming both his fists down this time Sully was enraged.
‘That’s where you’re wrong Harry. This is a game. It’s no different to the game we all played in the SAS. It’s a game that you were born for. I’m blown away that you have won this one. You have to see the potential of where we’re going with all this.’
‘So what’s the plan then Sully? How do you get me to say I’m in and not blow your fucking heads apart? I’m pretty sure after this, I can get my ass off this continent. How are you closing the back door on this?’
Sully looked at his watch.
Chapter 42
The loadmaster was doing his usual thirty-minute checks inside the Ilyushin airframe. Squeezing past the first truck he looked into a random control box to double-check everything was alright. Shining his torch deeper into the corners of the box, he confirmed that everything was OK.
Looking at the trucks he wondered what was actually going on but chose not to worry about it as he was under Roman’s specific orders to leave them well alone. Switching sides he checked the starboard side control box, again shining his torch to the depths confirming everything was good.
Walking to the tailgate to check that the hydraulics and fluid levels were good something caught his eye like a bolt out of the blue. Walking closer to the trucks again to double-check his vision.
Fluid? he thinks, noticing the rear truck is leaking fuel. A pool of it had run past the rear wheel with the aircraft’s movement.
Quickly grabbing a load of paper he scrunched it up, got on his knees and started to soak it up before looking up in confusion; the purple fluid was actually red, disguised by the low-level lighting.
Inspecting it again closely, the consistency of the fluid wasn’t that of diesel or brake fluid, it was sticky and definitely red as he shone his torch on it.
Still on his knees he stuck his head underneath the trailer to confirm a leak but saw nothing, moving his head back he felt a drop hit his neck.
Wiping it away he saw it was coming fr
om the bottom of the rear trailer door above him. Freezing for a second he witnessed a large amount of thick red fluid all along the rear bumper. Shitting himself he didn’t hang around trying to open doors, he headed straight to the cockpit.
Now sweating and conjuring up horrific thoughts he climbed up to the cockpit entrance and spoke through his headset to Roman.
Roman saw his expression and instantly knew something was up.
‘Blood, blood there’s loads of blood coming from the rear trailer,’ he gasped.
‘Where is Gerry?’
‘Don’t know?’
‘Did you knock on the doors?’
‘No I just came straight here.’
Roman, the co-pilot and the loadmaster all exchanged looks.
‘Okay, take over I’m going to speak to Gerry.’ Undoing his three-piece safety harness Roman stood up and moved out of the cockpit.
Following the loadmaster back to the truck he immediately noticed the pool of blood, he moved to the first wagon and started banging on the windows. Confused at the lack of response, he looked at the loadmaster who was turning a whiter shade of pale.
Roman continued banging shouting, ‘Gerry, Gerry you in there? You okay?’
The loadmaster started banging on the rear truck’s windows.
Nothing.
‘Get the fire extinguisher,’ Roman shouted to the loadmaster.
Removing the extinguisher from its holder he gave it to Roman who immediately rammed the butt-end into the window. After three strikes the window caved in. Looking inside Roman panicked to find it empty. ‘Fuck did we leave without them?’ Roman’s balls went cold at the thought, Gerry would kill him.
He moved straight to the rear truck.
Again nobody.
Panicking and racing to the rear trailer he shattered the glass, smashing through it. All he could see were large bags with a tent sheet over the top.
Ripping the tent sheet away he was met with the dead corpse of the guy he’d shipped out with Gerry, Sean staring back at him. Roman turned pale instantly and wretched, just managing to hold it back.
The loadmaster quickly took a look to see what had startled Roman so much. The lifeless eyes of Sean confirmd to the loadmaster that he had his blood all over his hands. He threw up instantly and looked back up to see Roman heading towards the cockpit. Bending over on his knees to propel another mouthful of puke onto the aircraft floor he realised that he was kneeling in blood which made him wretch even harder.
Back in the cockpit, Roman didn’t even bother to replace his headset, shouting at the co-pilot, ‘They’re gone, they’re not here and there are dead bodies in the trailer truck, blood everywhere. What the hell is going on?’
Studying Roman’s features the co-pilot was in no doubt he was telling the truth, Roman was literally white with fear.
Ripping his own headphones off he asked, ‘Say that again Roman, who is dead?’
Roman,in a muddle, kept his headset off and told his co-pilot to do the same to ensure nothing was recorded via the black box.
‘Dead bodies back there, and Gerry has gone, they have disappeared, something’s wrong, something’s terribly wrong.’
Shouting again into his co-pilot’s ear Romans started talking.
‘What shall we do? Still fly to Punta or turn back, pretend we have a problem? They were supposed to take care of things at Punta. If they discover these bodies it’s going to be a nightmare, especially if they search our rooms and find the money.’
‘I don’t know Roman,’ his co-pilot responded.
‘We either turn back or drop the trucks into the sea off the tailgate.’
‘We can’t they saw the trucks drive on, they have the details of what came on here at the South Pole. We have to land somewhere, I think we should turn back to Antarctica,’ his co-pilot suggested.
‘Yes, yes same here, let’s pretend we have a technical problem with the airspeed measurements suspecting the pitot tubes are obstructed with ice and turn back.’
‘Okay good, let’s do it, remember don’t mention the bodies, all we know is they got on, we took off and this is what happened. The first we know of the bodies is when we land, let’s put our headsets back on and continue as normal.’ His co-pilot nodded his head.
Getting into character, placing his headset back on trying to stay calm and fly the plane but flustered by the developing events, Roman started to play out the made-up scenarios about the speed sensor failure.
‘Punta Air Traffic control, this is Ilyushin 2031 check.’
‘Ilyushin 2031. Go ahead.’
‘Punta we are at 32000 feet but experiencing a technical problem with the airspeed measurements suspecting the pitot tubes are obstructed with ice and are heading back to South Pole over.’
‘Ilyushin copy, you have airspeed measurement problems suspecting the pitot tubes are obstructed with ice and are heading back to South Pole over.’
‘Punta correct, we are turning back to South Pole station in case we have difficulties landing, it will be a safer option over.’
‘Ilyushin copy, you are heading back to South Pole station.’
‘Punta correct. That’s us changing course now and returning. Our ETA is approximately 2 hours 45 minutes.’
Ilyushin copy I make that landing time approximately 2330 hours.’
‘Punta—’ He was cut off by a seemingly distant rumble that turned into an earth-shattering, eardrum-bleeding explosion.
Roman stopped, his entire body felt like it was red-raw with heat, and then everything went red. A huge fireball ripped through the Ilyushin reaching the cockpit within a second instantly incinerating his crew in 3000 degrees heat, created by the 2000 tonnes of onboard fuel.
Like a comet falling from space the Ilyushin nosedived from 32000 feet towards the hungrily waiting Antarctic Ocean.
Ironically the Ilyushin, known as a bombproof carrier proudly serving Antarctica for 27 years as the Trojan of all workhorses now fell towards its gravesite, decimated into millions of fragments by the sheer heat of the fireball, most of the airframe didn’t even make the ocean, what did would simply be the Ilyushin’s ashes spreading across the water and finally being laid to rest.
‘Ilyushin this is Punta over,’ the air traffic controller frantically trying to make contact.
Silence.
‘Ilyushin 2031 this is Punta over.’
‘Ilyushin 2031 this is Punta over.’
‘Ilyushin…’ Soberly taking his hand off the pressel switch the controller knew.
Ilyushin had a problem.
Chapter 43
Sully still glaring at his watch looked up at Decker. ‘That flight out of here has everyone on it. Gerry and you, Trans-Ant and most importantly the pilots we’ve been bribing. That flight will be at the bottom of the ocean soon. All traces gone.’
Decker sighs rolling his eyes back. ‘Of course Sully, since everything else has gone to plan so far, why should I doubt it? Decker sarcastically added.
‘We have to get moving Harry-
‘Press call,’ Decker shouted interrupting Sully’s sentence.
‘Why Harry? Alex can’t change things’ Sully shouted back.
‘I know, but I want to speak to the guy that manipulated my mind and fucked me over. I’ve had enough of speaking to the one who betrayed me, traitor.’
Sully reluctantly hit the call button. All three of them stared at the phone as the backlight flashed with Alex’s name.
‘Sully?’ Alex voice came down the phone momentarily breaking the tension in the room.
‘No it’s not’ Decker says.
Waiting for Alex to work it out. It didn’t take long and his quick response sounded like he wasn’t surprised either.
‘Ah Harry, how are things down
there?’ All of them were a little perplexed by the calmness in his voice.
Sully interjected ‘Alex we’re all here-’
‘Shut it Sully’ Decker snarled waving his pistol again. ‘Yeah Alex It’s Harry Decker or WHITEOUT, whatever you prefer. I have a pistol pointing at your Boss and Gerry, understand?’
Another pause. ‘Okay I see.’
Decker grabbed the phone and increased the volume to maximum.
‘Alex I thought I would take the opportunity for you to talk to the guy that has not only detected the undetectable, but defeated it too. You didn’t see that one coming hey? My crazy concept saved me just before I threw myself over the rocks, remember that day? I saw you didn’t I’
Everyone looked at the phone.
Silence, just a small hint of static.
‘Yes I do remember the sun was out ironically if my memory serves me correct’
‘Shame you didn’t follow me back and watch me piece together my strategy to kill off Project 8’s manipulations.’ Decker snarled.
‘I see you know now what this is all about?’
‘He knows everything Alex, the whole lot’ Sully said.
‘That’s not strictly true is it?’ Alex replied allowing Sully and the rest to stir for a second.
‘I didn’t need to follow you back Harry’ Alex said.
Sully faced Decker. ‘Alex hasn’t heard this Dictaphone recording Harry, he doesn’t know of your crazy FEAR concept that saved you, and made you discover our existence.’
‘Again, I don’t need to Sully,’ Alex raised his voice slightly which agitated Decker. God damn him for being so calm. Fucking boffins.
‘It all really started the day you left Sully’s office a broken man. Remember? Shortly after leaving the gates Sully called me and told me you were finished, 6 months I think was what you said Sully?’
Sully looked at Decker trying to hide his shameful admission.
‘So you spun off down the road then back to Corfe Castle, your spiritual home. As I remember, you went straight into the Greyhound Pub and carried on your death march into oblivion’