Everything to Lose Page 5

  8

  Ardwell Point, South-West Scotland

  Sir James Barscadden was once a respected prominent billionaire and greatly connected industry mogul. Then his evil empire and private army were exposed and he quickly fell from grace. Almost immediately he disappeared and caused shock waves in the London political and business circles. It seemed certain all his dirty secrets would become known.

  One person in Downing Street was particularly anxious about exposure of a close relationship with Barscadden. The Prime Minister felt intensely betrayed by his once personal and trusted friend and acutely worried about the confidence he shared with Barscadden and the personal favours he had done for Barscadden. In public the PM condemned Barscadden and assured the press and voters that James Barscadden would be found and brought to justice.

  Privately the PM met with Sir Milton Johhns, head of MI5 and ordered him to take charge of the operation to find Barscadden. The PM warned Johhns that if Barscadden survived to face a trial he could bring down the Government. Johhns consulted with his opposite number in MI6 and they agreed the SAS would need to deal with Barscadden's private bodyguard known as WRATH.

  MI6 regularly use the counter-revolutionary wing (CRW) of the SAS as an executive arm. Officially involved in training the CRW was formed in 1975 by the then PM Edward Heath to prepare for attacks similar to the massacre at the 1972 Summer Olympics.

  A high state of surveillance was ordered using spy satellites on permanent geo-station over the UK. Monitored by GCHQ they kept a rotating watch on potential points of extraction including private airstrips. They searched the country for suspicious activity or unusual movement.

  Intelligence suggested James Barscadden, Peter Bromlee, three members of Gige's Ring and eight of his WRATH bodyguards were on the run. It was too large a group for an easy skip off the British mainland.

  Satellite G19 scanning the west Scottish coastline yielded one object of interest. It was an exquisite 159 foot super-yacht off the south coast of Scotland. It dropped anchor eight miles south of Portpatrick. A picturesque harbour village but hardly on a par with the typical fleshpots of the Cote d' Azure, normally frequented by super-yachts.

  At 8:05 p.m. almost eighteen hours after the yacht dropped anchor, a removal van and two large MPV's arrived near the beach at Ardwell Bay. The sky was thick with slow moving dark cloud and the night was ink black. The satellite's thermal image feed provided a clear image of what was happening on the ground.

  Senior MI5 staff led by Alan M Cairn gathered to assess the fast moving situation. Cairn decided on a 'fastball' operation to hit Barscadden in the middle of his escape. Fastball ops are good for surprise but less good for people who like to plan and prepare.

  Twenty minutes after Alan Cairn issued the 'go' command, members of CRW on standby, sat in two rows of eight facing each other on a thundering Chinook HC3 helicopter from 7 Squadron Special Forces Flight. Meticulously they checked their equipment and comms as the Chinook transported them to Dumfries on the Scottish border.

  One troop was deployed consisting of two teams of eight, Alpha and Bravo, sixteen troopers in total. There were fourteen men and two women. In overall command Captain Zoe Tampin, leading Alpha team, would take the point.

  Zoe Tampin was well known for rapid thinking under extreme pressure. She first worked with CRW in Bosnia on covert operations to round up Bosnian war criminals. She earned massive respect as she used gender and guile to execute impressive arrests of unsuspecting criminals.

  The Chinook dropped Zoe and her troopers off in a farmer's field and they transferred to a waiting convoy of five black Land Rover Defender 110 hard top vehicles. The troopers and gear transferred quickly and the convoy raced west along the A75.

  They left the A75 at Whitecrook and onto the B7084 then they followed a series of minor roads to the west coast where the yacht was anchored off Ardwell Point. When they passed through Clachanmore they found a fork in the road at Low Ardwell. It was 11.14 p.m. They took the left-hand fork and when they passed through High Ardwell they went dark and silent. Zoe gave the order to 'go green' and night vision goggles were locked into place. They saw the target yacht anchored 700 metres off Ardwell Point.

  Close to the beach the road adopts an inland forward sloping S-shape. The convoy stopped at the top bend of the road and deployed like a family of mice. Zoe had split her force up into two teams for an attack from two sides.

  Zoe's team would follow the S-shaped road down to the beach at Ardwell Bay. A 400 metre trot along the road down to the south end of Ardwell Bay, four minutes easy-peasy. Their attack would approach the beach from the east.

  Bravo team would head southwest over fields to Base Hole then north up to Doon Hill. Their approach to the beach would be from the south. A 700-metre trot and Zoe allowed them eight minutes to get there. They would have the advantage of higher ground over-looking the beach. To ensure the troopers didn't fire on each other they wore 'high vis' patches that were seen brightly in night vision goggles.

  When Zoe's team arrived at Ardwell Bay they came across a removal van and two MPV's, all doors wide open. Inside the removal van they saw it was kitted out for living quarters. From live feed cameras on the helmets, the MI5 operation commander Alan Cairn saw where Barscadden had been hiding.

  The feed was relayed by GCHQ to an operations room in MI5 headquarters at Thames House, a Grade II listed building at the corner of Millbank and Horseferry Road in central London, which overlooks Lambeth Bridge, a few hundred yards south of the Houses of Parliament on the north bank of the Thames.

  A WRATH lookout spotted the SAS troopers at the removal van and engaged them before retreating back toward the beach. Barscadden's men on the beach took cover in the rocky outcrops known as Mary Wilson's Slunk at the south end of beach.

  An intense firefight on the Slunk lasted eleven minutes. Barscadden's men retreated through the Slunk towards the sea then south toward Doon Castle Broch where they met and were pinned down by the Bravo team approaching from Base Hole.

  The rocks were treacherous in the dark, many at chest height, jutting angles, slippery surfaces with large and small awkward gullies between them. Perfect for tripping and trapping anxiously moving boots.

  The forensics and the medics would find many cuts and bruises on the legs and feet of the bodies where the rocks had taken part in the fight. It wasn't the first time but it has been a long time since so much blood was spilled on Mary Wilson's Slunk. None of them knew that the large pile of stones they used for cover were the remains of Doon Castle Broch. An old Scottish castle dating back to 100 BC.

  Three of Barscadden's men were killed in the Slunk. Two were killed at Ardwell point and one was captured. The remaining two were killed at Doon Castle Broch. One SAS trooper was badly injured but stable and three were slightly injured including Zoe Tampin.

  Zoe's team had flushed Barscadden's men out of Mary Wilson's Skunk and caught up with three of them among the rocks at Ardwell Point. Zoe and her sergeant Antonia (Toni) Bornadetti crashed into their position from behind. One man was already dead. His right foot stuck between two rocks he couldn't move to cover and didn't surrender so he was an easy target.

  Toni got onto the nearest man and knocked him unconscious when she drove the retracted butt stock of her silenced MP5SD Heckler & Koch into the side of his head before he heard her.

  The other man was a bit further away and got off a round at Zoe from his handgun as he turned. She killed him with a headshot. His 9 mm round ripped three inches of flesh from her upper left arm. Toni and Zoe lay low while Toni applied a field dressing to stem Zoe's blood loss. At least they would have one captive to interrogate.

  When it kicked off, Zoe cried 'weapons hot' into the comm headsets and called for the IRC (inflatable raiding craft). The van towing it raced down to Ardwell Bay. Zoe and five troopers took the IRC out to the yacht. As the IRC approached the crew lined up with their hands in the air, captain, first officer, engineer, three deckhands, housekeeper, che
f and two stewards. When the fighting started the crew switched on all the deck lights so their surrender could be seen.

  On board the SAS troopers searched the yacht. Sitting in the lounge Zoe found three of Barscadden's inner circle executed by single headshots. Beside them lay two large 500 litre silver alloy trunks. No sign of Barscadden or Bromlee.

  When Zoe grabbed the captain by the throat he pointed his arm out to sea. Zoe ran around to the side of the yacht just in time to see the yacht's speedboat floating aimless in the wake of an old submarine moving rapidly forward into a dive.

  The crew confirmed Barscadden and Bromlee had taken seven trunks on board the submarine and had left the last two when the shooting started. Bromlee had executed the three people in the lounge before he left.

  "Control. You watching this?" Zoe asked.

  "Yes. We didn't spot that tub on the satellite image. Must have been hiding under the yacht," Alan Cairn replied.

  "How far can a small thing like that go?"

  "It's about sixty meters long so we think it's an old Soviet Quebec class coastal submarine. Range not more than 2000 nautical miles. It won't get him across the pond. Best guess he'll make landfall in Europe."

  "Unless he organised a refuel at sea."

  "Of course that's possible," Alan conceded.

  "Shit. Can we scramble air support to bomb the bastard?" Toni asked.

  "He's too close to fishing and ferry lanes."

  "Good planning. Smart decoy. Got to give him that," Zoe said.

  Zoe watched the submarine conning tower disappear into the sea through her night enhancement goggles. Sergeant Antonia (Toni) Bornadetti inspected the expanding bloodstain on Zoe's arm bandage.

  "Well done boss. It's still a good result," Toni said.

  "We're not done yet," Zoe turned and curled her lip at Toni.

  "What's next?"

  "Fancy a bit of R&R in Hampshire?"

  "Yeah that would be good. I've got mates in Portsmouth. So what's going down in Hampshire?"

  "We'll soon find out."

  9

  Home Office, Whitehall, London

  The Lambeth Group VC, Sir Christopher Aden-Brown sat with Alan Cairn Head of CPNI in the Aden-Brown's office. It was an old traditional office on the third floor of Peel Building at the Home Office in Marsham Street. They sat deeply in comfortable brown leather Queen Anne high back wing chairs facing each other.

  On the brown leather covered coffee table between them were spread the files of people they intended to pull together to form a team for a new investigation. It was late in the afternoon and they had spent the past three hours preparing a briefing for their team.

  Sir Christopher Aden-Brown was a retired Vice-Chancellor with a shock of short white hair befitting his seventy years of age. He was six foot tall, thin and gaunt-looking with pronounced jowls and sagging bags under his eyes. His hands were covered with liver spots and he wore glasses with thick lenses for severe myopia. He was the link between the Home Office and all the University Vice-Chancellors in the UK and Commonwealth.

  "I'm sorry but we have to go with Shawlens," Alan concluded.

  "As I've said he's walking and talking like normal but he's not all there in terms of full mental capacity."

  "Well he'll have to snap out of it," Alan said more harshly than he intended.

  "Are you sure Zoe's fit for this duty? I read the mission report on the Barscadden business at Ardwell Point. It was bloody impressive stuff taking out these WRATH people. Just a tad unlucky with Barscadden. I would have allowed more time for her wound to recover. Maybe we should consider another."

  "You were the one insisted we had to have someone from the top drawer to look after Shawlens. Well Sir Christopher she's the one!"

  "I see," he sounded unconvinced.

  "If Barscadden's people come after Shawlens. She'll spot them and take them out long before they spot her. Trust me Sir Christopher; Zoe is perfect for this covert close protection work. This type of babysitting is her speciality and she's the very best."

  Aden-Brown pressed the intercom and asked his PA Irene if the team had arrived. She confirmed everyone had arrived and they were waiting in briefing room A.

  "Okay Alan let's get this briefing done."

  Aden-Brown was not convinced Gavin and Zoe were fully fit for action but then the hard operational decisions were down to Alan Cairn.

  Cairn was 56 years old and overweight at 76 kg. His portly silhouette was instantly recognisable in the corridors of the Home Office. His gruff northern take-me-as-you find-me-manner put many people on edge. In a small room or a large hall it was always his voice that was loudest and grandest. His oval face was made pointy by a goatee beard that merged with a thick moustache and complimented a set of bushy eyebrows over his dark blue eyes. His hair was combed back from the hairline and it curled up over his collar. The brown hair on his face and head had started to turn grey at the edges.

  * * *

  Gavin Shawlens had attended briefings in HOBRA before so the smell was familiar. It was a room with no windows and ineffective air conditioning. The smell was a complex mixture of human odour, eau de toilette and dust in the air from a recent flick-over. He also noted an orange smell from the leather seats from the spray fluid used to clean leather.

  The room was bright with concealed ceiling lighting over a conference table in the centre with seating for sixteen. The table and matching wall panelling were built with distinctive hard rock maple similar to that used to floor bowling alleys.

  Gavin stared into the burls, leaf figures and bird's eye figures he could see in the grain. Around the table sat two men and two women.

  None of them knew each other so they sat in silence. They exchanged polite hellos and smiles but none of them had introduced themselves, which was understandable given the secrecy of the Lambeth Group.

  Gavin fought his mind to stay on focus. He didn't want to be there. He pleaded to deaf ears for more time to deal with his grief. He still felt suicidal. Thoughts of Emma Patersun ebbed and flowed during the day and flooded his mind at night.

  He had vivid images of her funeral and people reflecting on her life. Every part of it still raw in his thoughts. No-one knew what she meant to him. He spent endless days studying methods of euthanasia. He wanted to run after Emma to meet up with her. He wanted something fast and painless like flicking off a switch.

  He tortured himself analysing and evaluating doses and procedures trying to judge pain levels. He had taken a few chemicals from the lab that would do the job. He was still alive because he worried that if he took his own life there might be some divine rule that would prevent him from being reunited with Emma.

  Aden-Brown and Alan Cairn entered and immediately took command of the room.

  "Good afternoon and welcome back to the Home Office. Thank you for coming at such short notice. Now can we quickly go around the table please," Aden-Brown said as he looked at Gavin Shawlens.

  "Dr Gavin Shawlens, biochemist, University of Kinmalcolm. I manage an enzyme technology research group. This will be my eighth backfire," Gavin said then turned to the person on his left and nodded to indicate he was finished.

  His voice sounded distant, lacking purpose, making it obvious to others he didn't want to be there. Aden-Brown and Alan Cairn exchanged eye contact, as they knew Shawlens was feeling particularly low.

  "Zoe Tampin, Senior Field Officer with the Security Service. On temporary secondment to the Lambeth Group. Based here in London and this will be my second backfire investigation," she said confidently like a commander.

  "Hello everyone I'm Dr Rolley James Morgan. I'm a team leader at the Central Institute of Advanced Physics, Oxford. I'm a specialist in complex energy systems. I lead a team of four postdocs and six technicians. My team has published groundbreaking research in Nature and Scientific American. This is my first research project backfire."

  "Elaine J Hodderman. I'm a Head of Section with the Security Service. I'm based in this building.
I'm a specialist in rapid analysis and like Rolley I'm new to the Lambeth Group."

  "Welcome. Thank you all. Now would anyone like more tea or coffee before we begin?" Aden-Brown said.

  Shawlens joined Morgan at the coffee trolley and with their eyes and facial expressions they formed a tenuous academic clique as they refilled their coffee cups.

  Zoe watched Gavin and matched the person with the file she'd read. He was five eight, thirty-six years old and weighed 65 kg. A little cocky but unthreatening with soft-features and a warm beauty about his face. His deep blue eyes twinkled with mischief. He seemed more gentle and passive than rugged and macho. His thick hair had a dark straw colour but was not well groomed. His appearance was not his highest priority and not untypical of academics she's met before.

  He had not shaved for some time so a short and untidy beard covered his face. His accent was Scottish although all trace of Glasgow dialect had been smoothed out. She returned her gaze to the table and decided that although he was easy on the eyes, the untidy beard would have to go.

  "I've called you here today because we believe we have discovered a new research backfire. The expertise gathered around this table is best suited to deal with the particular issues that seem to be involved. The designation for this backfire is SLIPFIRE. Alan will you please introduce SLIPFIRE," Aden-Brown announced.

  Alan handed out buff coloured folders to each team member. The word confidential was emboldened on the front cover above the word 'SLIPFIRE'.

  Alan picked up a remote control unit as a large interactive computer screen flickered into life. He dimmed the room lights as the screen settled down. On a banner across the screen the heading was SLIPFIRE. He dragged a strip of photos from a side bar onto the screen.