Mad dog, p.24
Mad Dog, page 24
Martxelo´s hand instinctively drifted towards his right hand jacket pocket and the gun he kept there as he nodded before turning and heading back towards the house.
Hari called Mustafa back having reached his decision. Kill them before they can raise the alarm!
Mustafa opened the door to greet them as they returned. Extending his hand in the direction of Txabi he allowed Martxelo to pass him and enter the house.
-I’m sorry, I owe you an explanation, -started Mustafa placing Txabi off guard.
As Martxelo stepped through the door way Abu fired, the bullet tore through the muscles of his right forearm, Martxelo´s nervous reaction of letting his hand drift towards his right pocket every time they had a dispute had not gone unnoticed by Abu. The second shot went straight through his forehead and Martxelo slumped to the ground without having made the minimal attempt to defend himself. Txabi didn’t have the chance to react to the sound of the gunshot as Mustafa grasped his extended hand and dragged him sharply towards the waiting blade of the large kitchen knife that he held in his left hand, burying it deep under his rib cage. The second shot hardly registered in the swirl of data that rushed through his brain as he tried to convince himself that there was an escape available to him. As he slumped onto Mustafa’s chest, wheezing as his lungs slowly started to fill drowning him in his own blood, Mustafa whispered into his ear.
-I’m sorry but we can’t allow you to tell anyone our little secret. Martxelo was right, on Tuesday we are going to kill thousands, hundreds of thousands possibly and they are going to die a slow, painful and agonising death. They are going to die for having what they refuse to provide to millions, the millions that die each year from lack of water whilst your countries strip them of their natural resources. Thank you for your help, we couldn’t have done it without you. –
They had been fortunate; their only neighbours at the foot of the hill were finishing their lunch at El Picachuelo Restaurant in El Berrueco well beyond hearing distance of the shots.
-Put them in their bedroom, -instructed Mustafa, -they’ve still got work to do.-
-Right, - said Harvey, -lets concentrate on 3 Dean Street, cut off the electricity supply. –
-We can’t Sir, the block uses solar energy and the plaques form part of the attic roof. –
-Okay, then cut off the water, or is that supplied by a retention tank on the roof as well?! –
-No Sir. –
- Don’t let Thames Water attend the house until tomorrow lunchtime at the earliest; he’ll be sufficiently desperate to let anyone in to the flat by then. -
It wasn’t until ten thirty that evening that Mr Hamid Al Sami made the first polite call to Thames Water advising them of the problem. At one o’clock in the morning he made his third call, still remaining remarkably polite, before going to bed. He was promised that the problem would be resolved by the time he woke. It wasn’t and he therefore made a weary and slightly irritated call at eight thirty.
-I’m sorry Sir, but we’ve revised the supply to your property and there is no problem. –
-What! Well I can tell you young woman, that there most definitely is a problem, I HAVE NO WATER SUPPLY! So can you please get someone out here once again and get the problem fixed. –
On his third call of the morning a highly irritated Mr Hamid Al Sami was informed that the problem had to be in the interior of the property as they had once again confirmed that both the pressure and the supply of water were correct and that water was in fact being used within the property.
-Have you checked with your neighbours, because they appear to have a supply? We can, if you require it, send you a technician but the service will be charged to your bill and there is a standard ₤150 call out charge on Sundays. –
-Listen to me Miss, I don’t give a damn about your call out charge and I don’t give a damn about whether my neighbours have or don’t have a water supply. I only give a damn about the fact that I don’t have one. IS THAT CLEAR! –
-Yes Mr Sami, very clear. So do I send you a technician then Mr Sami?-
-YES! -Screeched Hamid slamming shut his mobile phone.
Ten minutes later he received a call on the video intercom system.
-YES!? – He barked at the dark green overall clad Thames Water worker, in the form of both a question and a recrimination.
-Thames Water Sir. –
-Come in. –
His front door bell hadn’t even stopped vibrating when he pulled the door opening in an attempt to demonstrate his frustration.
-I’m told you have a problem with your water supply, -said the technician calmly as he removed his right hand from inside his overalls where it had been gripping his gun.
-NO! I have a problem with the lack of a water supply to be precise. –
-Right Sir, then can you show me the main stop cock? –
-No idea, never heard of one. –
-Okay Sir just lead me to the kitchen and I think I can sort this out for you in a jiffy. –
Hamid led him to the kitchen and left him there before going to the lounge to sulk on the sofa. Agent Wiggins took the occasion to call base.
-It’s not our man, repeat not our man, turn the water back on please. –
Within seconds the water started to flow with full pressure from the taps that Hamid had left open.
-Right Sir, that’s sorted, stop cock blocked causing valvular pressure, -shouted Agent Wiggins making it up as he went along, -I’ll show myself out, no need for you to bother. –
Hamid didn’t even bother answering as he rushed to the kitchen to try out the taps. He was opening the tap for the third time when he heard the front door closing behind Agent Wiggins.
-Right –said Charlie, -then it looks like it’s 16 Rupert Street after all. Get the power cut off there as soon as possible, I take it it’s not solar powered! –
-No Sir. –answered Agent Bradley
Being on the shaded side of the street and having the blinds drawn Hari had the lights on almost permanently, he realised immediately therefore when at three thirty the power was cut. His first reaction was to partially open the blinds and wait for the power to return. Unfortunately he didn’t open them sufficiently for him to be identified and so the watching agents were condemned to wait along with him. By eight o’clock when the light became far too dim for his comfort he finally lost patience and called the Embassy informing them of his problem. Naturally, their first question was whether or not the problem appeared to be affecting his neighbours. In order to check it out Hari opened the blinds completely, straining to see if any of the neighbouring flats were illuminated. He spotted at least three of the flats in front yet what most called his attention was the movement of the blinds from the attic flat in front, a movement that couldn’t be put down to wind movement as the windows were all clearly closed. “They’re watching me!” was his first thought. He stood still, watching the window and waited for the inevitable movement that would indicate that they were checking whether he was still watching.
Agents Cawley and Martin had been taken completely by surprise when Hari suddenly opened the blinds, so much so that they sprang backwards and in doing so disturbed the blinds on their windows. It had been an accident but one that could cost them dear. They needed to do something and quickly.
-Jan, strip off. – whispered Agent Martin as if Hari could hear him.
-Jan trust me, go to the bathroom, strip off and put a towel around yourself as though you’ve just showered. –
Agent Jan Cawley didn’t reply she simply dashed for the bathroom. Agent Martin removed his shirt and lay on the couch under the window.
As Agent Cawley entered the room Agent Martin gasped, twenty five years old, five foot nine, slim, athletic and with magnificent breasts that he had never imagined beneath her formal clothing and that barely moved as she turned towards him, she was a sight that any man would have gasped at.
-I thought you would put th
As she neared the couch he rose deliberately moving the blinds and twisting the cord so that they stayed slightly open. In plain view of Hari he took her in his arms and kissed her neck.
-Like what you see? –whispered Jan in his ear.
-What do you think? –replied Martin moving to her neck.
-It wasn’t a question, -giggled Agent Cawley, -or you’ve got a Mars bar in your pocket or you like the view! –
-Yeah well or the air conditioning is too low or you’re glad to see me, at least judging by what I’ve got sticking into my chest. -
Slowly Agent Martin lowered her onto the couch and they disappeared from view.
Hari turned from the window and picked up his mobile. “God I need sex” he thought.
-Yes the neighbours have electricity. –
-You took your time. –
-Something cropped up, -he said rubbing his crotch, -get someone over here and let me know who they are before they arrive.
After twenty minutes on the couch Agents Cawley and Martin reluctantly decided that it was time to once more draw the blinds and turn off the lights.
-Check the camera, did we get a good shot of him? –instructed Agent Martin.
-Please darling, would have been nice, -she responded laughing as she scrolled back through the photos. –Oh yes, excellent. It’s him alright. –
-It’s Hari, we’ve got some good shots of him, I’ll send them over now -confirmed agent Martin to Agent Bradley, -we’ll wait you’re instructions. –
-Sirs, -started Agent Bradley grinning as he interrupted Charlie and Harvey, -we’ve got a positive identification of Hari at 16 Rupert Street. What do you want us to do? –
They had three clear options, to keep him under vigilance (do nothing); to try to get access to the flat and bug it or to raid the flat and arrest him. Both Harvey and Charlie were of the opinion that the second option was the best at that moment because they still had a little time before the deadline, there existed the possibly that they would overhear the details of their plans and finally they could always arrest him whenever they desired.
At nine o’clock it was Hari´s turn to receive a call on his video intercom. There standing in front of the camera was a dark blue boiler suited man in his late thirties as best Hari could guess.
-EDF Energy sir, I believe you have a problem. –
-Yes, can you give me your identification code please? –
-Yes sir, 250856 AMBER –
-Okay enter, -said Hari pressing the latch release button. –
The Embassy had advised him that they had requested the coded security service that EDF Energy offered to clients who were concerned about bogus callers. The computer generated code matching that used by Agent Lionside who had interrupted Ronnie Burns, the EDF Energy technician, who was only too willing to be of assistance to MI5. After all he was going to be telling everyone about his official secret the very next morning.
Hari opened the door to the darkened flat and Agent Lionside immediately presented the identification badge that they had copied five minutes earlier.
-Good evening sir, could you show me the main fuse box please?-
Hari shrugged his shoulders in the light of Agent Lionside´s torch. Agent Lionside ran the torch the length of the hall before settling it on what appeared to be a small cupboard half way up the wall by the entrance to what appeared to be the kitchen. He picked up his walkie talkie and feigned to request that the external supply be cut off.
-Never be too careful sir. –
After removing the main fuse and placing it in his pocket he proceeded to check individual plug sockets inserting a screwdriver into the earth socket of each one, a screwdriver that left a micro microphone in each socket. He then checked behind the TV placing a micro camera underneath the book shelf directly above it. Once he had been informed via his earpiece that both the camera and the hearing devices were functioning he returned to the main fuse box, re inserted the main fuse and requested via his walkie talkie that the electricity supply be resumed. Miraculously the lights in the entire apartment burst into life.
-Thank you Mr Brown, -said Hari offering his hand.
-It’s Burns sir, Ronnie Burns, - said Agent Lionside shaking his hand firmly without removing his glove aware that his delicate skinned hand would have given him away immediately.
Hari now had his electricity supply back and closed the blinds once more, not without glancing in the direction of the neighbouring attic apartment. One last glimpse of those magnificent breasts would have given him plenty to think about that evening as he polished his leaning prayer tower.
Agents Cawley and Martin now had something to watch and listen to other than the non moving blinds of the window in front of them.
It wasn’t until three o’clock on the Monday afternoon that Hari received his first call.
-Good afternoon Mustafa how did everything go? Did they put up much of a struggle? –
Mustafa explained to him how smoothly the killing of Txabi and Martxelo had gone and what they planned to do with the bodies.
-Excellent, good idea, that’ll certainly cause a distraction. Everything still set for twelve thirty your time? –
Mustafa confirmed the time and asked if it would cause any inconveniences for him.
-No eleven thirty is fine here. Well organize the transmission to coincide with you and Jiriyis. Abdul says that they can’t wait to get the job done, baby sitting isn’t his thing. It’ll all be over well before twelve and they’ll have plenty of time to get it on the mid day news channels over here. –
“Who’s going to do it?” asked Mustafa.
-They haven’t decided yet but it looks like Mustafa, Abdul and Jamil. -
“Subhan'Allah” said Mustafa (Glory to Allah).
- Subhan'Allah. –responded Hari.
It was precisely the type of conversation they were hoping to hear and couldn’t have come at a better time, all other leads apparently going nowhere. George Beasley was nowhere to be seen as yet, none of the drivers that they interviewed raised the slightest suspicions, the hundreds of so called sightings had clearly come to nothing and time was running out.
The conclusions that Harvey, Charlie and their team drew from the conversation were clear; Mustafa and whoever was with him had either killed or disposed of someone or someones; that they were planning their attack at twelve thirty local time and that they were in Europe; that they were planning some sort of diversionary strike first and that their main strike was to coincide with a similar strike in the UK and that finally, the fate of the hostages was to be sealed before twelve o’clock.
Without any clear idea of what the main targets were Harvey had enough information to go to the Prime Minister with. Shortly before four o’clock, just as he was about to leave for his meeting with the PM he received his cryptic message from Harris.
-Send him a message, -instructed Harvey- Why the hell is he in the house and where are the others. -
Harvey was about to ask the PM to repeat an action that some thirty years earlier on 5th May 1980 had thrust the Counter Revolutionary Warfare (CRW) wing of the SAS to worldwide fame when they successfully sieged the Iranian Embassy.
-Sir, we know that they are in there and we know that they are going to be killed before twelve o’clock tomorrow, –stated Harvey, - we still have the detailed plans for the building from 1980. What I suggest is that we enter Nºs14 and 18 during the night and use our sonic equipment to determine where exactly the hostages are being held, once we establish their location we can enter through the walls, we have the explosives for that nowadays, there will be little risk and from outside the Embassy there will be little sign of what we have done, it’ll then be up to you and the Iranian Government to decide whether or not you advise the world at large of the events. –<
-What do you think the chances of success are? –
-High Sir, once we locate them with our sonic imagery equipment, very high Sir, but what are the options, we can’t go and knock on the door and ask them to let them come out to play and it’s too late to expel them, besides that would be far riskier if you ask me. –
-Before midday tomorrow, how much before will depend on how quickly we dismantle their other plot. Do I have your permission Sir? –
Prime Minister James Oakes´ skin tingled with a mixture of the immensity of what he was about to approve and the political deja vu of what Margaret Thatcher decided all those years earlier. He sincerely hoped his decision would prove to be as successful as hers had been.
-Yes Harvey, this is now a military matter! Good luck. –
Alan burst through the door relieved to get out of the storm, he quickly removed his raincoat, hanging it on the back of the door, turned the lights on, then untied and kicked off his boots, tired but above all grateful to be home he felt strangely anxious, something wasn’t right, something didn’t fit. He suddenly understood what it was; it was the smell, the smell or rather the lack of it. The farm didn’t smell as though it had been closed for almost a fortnight, the air was too fresh, SOMEONE HAD BEEN IN THERE!
NO! There was more, it wasn’t just the lack of mustiness there was something else something that brought back memories, memories of the twins. MEDERMA! He could smell Mederma, the cream he had used to treat the twins burns. His mind spun in a swirl of images of the twins, their smiles as he and Josie gently rubbed the clear gel into their poor scarred faces, how happy they had been to feel the caressing touch of Josie’s hands, he swallowed hard choking back the tears that started to burn his eyes then suddenly returned to the reality of his situation. IT WASN´T THAT SOMEONE HAD BEEN THERE, SOMEONE WAS THERE!
-Good afternoon, -he said slowly turning in the direction of the lounge.
-Good afternoon, -said Harris rising from his seat gun in hand.
by William Fegan have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes