Black Hand Gang by David Edwards - HTML preview

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Chapter 7

Somewhere near The Brecon Beacons

J had decided that Brett and Wolf should travel to Cheshire the following evening and meet

the parents and grandma of the top four British players. However, as the fifth player was in

the care of social workers because he had no parents, it was deemed satisfactory to tell him

what was going on once all the children had arrived at the SAS training camp near Brecon.

This was an ultra secret satellite to the main base in Hereford, located in the shadow of The

Black Mountains and The Brecon Beacons of South Wales. The general public thought

everything happened at Hereford further to the north, but the £200 million investment by the

last labour government, had allowed the SAS chiefs to secretly relocate to the new and more

sophisticated base. The core of any training remained the same – physical endurance and

mental strength in the wildest places on earth, man against nature. But the new establishment

had taken this three stages into the future, ensuring the SAS would remain the best in the

world.

Brett and Wolf pulled up outside of the Ponsonby-Smythe’s mansion in Wolf’s silver Range

Rover at precisely eleven pm. The local police had asked both sets of parents and grandma to

be available from 10 pm and to keep the appointment confidential. It also meant that all of

the children would be in bed and asleep, two policewomen were sat in The George’s and

grandma’s houses as babysitters. Therefore, the circumstances and unknown agenda of the

meeting meant that all of the parents were in a high state of anxiety. All they knew were that

representatives of Her Majesty’s government wanted to speak to them about the children.

Grandma was asleep in the corner, she wasn’t anxious at all, which was very surprising. She

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had also drunk a couple of sherries and now she was snoring loudly and oblivious to the

others who were arguing about nothing.

Maria was pontificating. ‘Eton is such a good school Jennifer. They sit the international

baccalaureate you know. It is so much harder than GCSE’s, much more of a test.’ The tone

and the subject made Jennifer seethe inside. The snobbishness of Roger’s mother was

particularly offending that evening, probably because she was so worried about why they had

all been pulled together. What could the four children have been up to now?

She bit her tongue as she politely responded. ‘I’m sorry Maria, any exams are only as good as

the child. They all have the same brain power but some choose not to use it.’ This response

was sufficient to keep Maria quiet and gave Rupert an opportunity to chide Jonathan about

their recent cricket match.

‘Shame about your six missed catches old boy. If you had managed a 33 per cent success

statistic we might have won the game.’

Jonathan had his arms crossed. ‘What is a success statistic Rupe?’ Rupert hated being called

that. ‘The flipping ball was wet for god sake’s; anyone with steamed-up glasses would have

found it hard to make those catches.’

Jennifer looked daggers at her husband to make him tone it down. As they stared at

everything in the room except each other, there was a welcome knock at the door and Rupert

quickly rose to answer it. He quickly let the visitors in and noted the two police constables

standing in the shadows of the garden.

Wolf and Brett walked into the lounge and shook hands with them all. They introduced

themselves as Edmunson and Halsall, briefly flicking open their false passes, which declared

them to be employees of The Ministry of Defence. Grandma studied Wolf’s ID card closely

and sniffed as she handed it back. She noted how athletic they both appeared and the smart

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cut of their dark blue suits. Once everyone was settled back in the chairs, it was Brett who

started to speak.

‘Our government have been monitoring an online gaming scam and unfortunately the four

children have all been caught up in it. However, there is absolutely nothing to worry about.’

Grandma wagged a finger at Brett. ‘You are spies aren’t you?’

He was relatively honest with his reply. ‘We represent the nation’s security services

Madame.’ His face was expressionless as she replied. ‘We were always taught that when

someone says “there is absolutely nothing to worry about” – we should worry.’ Grandma sat

back after delivering her words of wisdom. Wolf noted the word taught and wondered what

grandma was inferring.

Wolf decided to give them some more details. ‘We have selected your children to receive

special Facebook training as they are the best in Britain at a particular game called “world

domination”. This is where the potential scams may occur.’

Jonathan was sceptical. ‘So not scams actual. Just scams potential? And what might be the

objective of these scams Mr Edmunson?’

Wolf opened his hands in supplication. ‘Simple manipulation of stocks and shares Mr

George. A financial scam, to be auctioned sometime in the future and utilising the players of

this Facebook game called “world domination”. That’s why we want to work closely with the

best players, ones who can be trusted and that is the four friends.’

It was Jonathan again who bluntly replied. ‘Come off it, you should tell us the truth and

maybe, just maybe we can understand why you are here. You do know that this is my area of

expertise in The City?’

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Brett took over from Wolf. ‘Mr Edmunson and I can’t tell you the whole truth sir as it is

covered by the official secrets act. In fact, the truth is totally bizarre sir. If we tell you

everything you become a security risk.’

Jonathan was annoyed too. ‘Tell us what our children will do over the next three weeks and

where they will be.’

Wolf answered. ‘We can’t tell you where. We can’t let you speak to them and the specialist

training might help one or more of them on their mission.’

Jonathan laughed loudly. It was a very strained atmosphere and he was nervous for his boys.

‘Mission? You make them sound like mini James Bonds.’

‘And Jane Bond’ said grandma.

Wolf continued. ‘We want them to understand all the threats they may experience whilst

playing the game for real and to develop a mindset to never give up. But! This will be done in

a fun way. As if they were on a PGL holiday.’

Jennifer added. ‘Jack will enjoy that,’ but Jonathan wanted nothing to do with the faceless

men’s vague plans.

‘Hold on Jennifer, just hold on. I want to know how safe they will be when training and I

definitely want to know what they will be doing if selected.’

Rupert and Maria held their heads up high. ‘Our Roger can come on the training Mr

Edmunson and Mr Halsall and we hope he is the one to go on the mission. We know our son

would do anything for God and The Queen.’

Jonathan was on his feet. His wife was pulling at his trouser leg to encourage him to sit

down. ‘It’s easy for you two to say that. We have both Jack and Timmo to consider and

Timmo is only 9 years old for god’s sake.’

‘Duty is duty Jonathan.’ Rupert was adamant.

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‘Duty or not, Rupe. We are talking about two children who represent our dreams and hopes

for the future.’ The rest listened to Jonathan and silently agreed. There was a pregnant pause

and the two agents remained quiet. They had been trained to leave a silence, it tempted others

to fill it and say more than they should. Two ears and one mouth was the maxim.

Grandma had also remained quiet, she was eyeing up the two officials. She decided the

messing about needed to stop. ‘Show me your gun Mr Halsall. I know that is probably a false

name.’ He looked across at her and pulled out his Magnum. ‘Thank you, I just wanted to

know how serious you were.’

Brett asked quietly. ‘Do you have any questions m’am?’

‘No I don’t. You know why, don’t you?’

‘Yes m’am. You were an agent of the Secret Service in World War ІІ and served four years in

France as one of the greatest spies in history.’ Wolf was staring at Brett in disbelief, the yank

knew more about the Brits than the Brit. ‘Your records were exemplary and you received The

George Cross for bravery. It was for the action on the day your husband was shot by the

Gestapo. If I remember the files, you blew up the bridge at Meaux in order to stop the Nazi

advance.’

Grandma was nodding, the memories still made her very sad 68 years later. Her eyes were

watering as she replied. ‘Yes my boy. So I know what you are and therefore I also know that

what you are telling is true and necessarily vague.’ She sighed deeply, this was a difficult

decision. ‘I have no hesitation in saying my Kate can help you out. She is a brave girl and I

know she will come home safe.’ Everyone wondered how she could know that but there had

been rumours in the village about grandma’s predictions. ‘However, I want to know how

serious is this matter that takes our children away?’

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Wolf turned to them all. ‘I can only tell you all that it is a time when the whole world is under

threat and your children can save it.’ All of them were shocked, but now they realised why

they were being asked to allow the impossible. Allowing their children to be used by the

government’s Intelligence Services.

The George’s were in a predicament. How could they now refuse to allow Jack and Timmo to

be trained when both their friends had already been volunteered? The world was threatened...

Jonathan caved in. ‘Okay guys, but we need a liaison officer. Someone to come and chat

every couple of days, even if it is only for a cup of tea. We don’t need the detail, we just want

to know they are all safe or...’ he swallowed deeply. There were tears in his eyes. He couldn’t

say safe or not.

Wolf acknowledged the emotion. ‘You have my word Mr George. But now we must leave. At

5 am a bus will collect all the children from here. They don’t need to bring anything with

them, not even a toothbrush and we will provide suitable clothing at the training centre.’

There were nods all round. ‘Please help us by telling them three things before they leave.’ He

slowed his words to make them stick. ‘Firstly, their gaming skills might help the world avoid

a catastrophe. Secondly, they are going to a training camp like PGL. A place to have fun.

Thirdly, tell them you love them and that you are supporting this decision.’ Wolf and Brett

stood immediately. He walked behind Brett to the lounge door held open by Rupert.

Wolf turned back a final time. ‘Please trust my colleague and I. My personal experience of

life is without parents and it helps me to understand how you must feel. It also helps me

mentor the children over the next few weeks. I promise to do my best for them.’ He swivelled

on his heel and joined Brett in the Range Rover to head to their hotel in Chester and a

welcome four hours sleep. There was no further discussion to be had. The George’s and

grandma walked home in silence.

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At 3.45 am, Kate sat on grandma’s rocking chair in the kitchen. There was a single lamp on

top of the pine dresser and its light cast eerie shadows.

She spoke to the cat who was cradled in her arms. ‘Sometimes, I swear you can read my

mind Wispy. Please take care of grandma for me, she is all I have left.’ She ruffled the fur on

the cat’s furry belly as it squirmed on its back and then she placed her on the floor and turned

away with tears pouring down her red cheeks. Kate heard grandma coming down the creaky

stairs and hastily dried her eyes.

‘I see you’ve been crying Katey? Grandma cuddled her close.

‘It’s the fear of the unknown.’

‘You have nothing to fear my dear. There is no unknown. You and I have our paths which are

already set and there is nothing we can do about it.’

Kate thought about the wise words and hugged grandma closer. ‘You always know what is

going to happen, don’t you?’

‘Sometimes Kate. In fact most times, if the things are important to you or me. I know that

you are doing incredible good for our world and I know that you will return to Wispy and I.

That is sufficient knowledge.’ Kate picked up her small bag containing a reading book and

some make-up and then she and grandma left the cottage hand in hand to walk to Roger’s

house. There was a full moon and it momentarily emerged through a break in the clouds and

bathed everything to make it nearly as light as day. Then it went back behind the dark low

clouds that forebode rain.

At the mansion, Licko was sat next to Roger. Licko’s dark brown eyes looked extremely sad

to Kate as she walked into the lounge and sat beside them both.

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She touched Roger’s arm and then ruffled Licko’s head. ‘They say animals sense things.’

‘Urm,’ he wasn’t quite awake.

‘Are you Okay Roger?’

‘Urm.’ She gave up trying to have a conversation as Jack and Timmo waltzed in.

‘Hi, isn’t it fabtastic, that we are going on an adventure.’ Jack was full of excitement.

‘Urm,’ said Roger.

Jack continued. ‘Like on a PGL holiday and even better, training to be spies!’ Kate and Roger

hadn’t appreciated that.

‘Spies?’ Asked Roger as he suddenly woke up.

‘Yes, so we can go on a mission to save the world.’ Jack’s mum had told her children a lot

more than the other parents. As Jack walked animatedly around the room, Timmo curled up

on the sofa and closed his eyes, it was very early for a 9 year-old boy. Kate now had her

hands to her mouth, shocked by the enormity of it all, whilst Roger was trying to remember

the plot of the last James Bond movie he had watched on his IPad.

They heard a squeak of brakes outside and were soon ushered onto an old military bus to sit

uncomfortably on thin brown leather seats. The last hugs with their parents had been too

quick and the only words said were ‘be safe’.

* * *

Wolf had stood by the driver and shook hands with each child as they had climbed aboard. He

called them by their surnames alone. Timmo was deemed to be Little George and Jack was

just George. They sat quietly and obediently near the front of the bus and were surprised

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when Wolf introduced the fifth boy, who was hidden in the shadows on the bench seat at the

very rear.

‘My name is Wolf and that’s Hines. He’s also on your training course.’ No words were

exchanged between the children and they all lapsed into a reverie as the rickety old bus rolled

steadily through the early morning dawn as it started to rain lightly. Marshall Hines had

woken from a brief nap as the others had climbed quietly aboard. Since being collected from

the children’s home, he had used sleep to drive away his fears. His mother had failed to return

from work a month previously and when he had gone to the police all they could do was

involve the local Social Services team to ensure he was safe in shelter. No one had told him

why he was on the bus, he had guessed that he was being taken to another home.

All the children remained awake and chatted quietly, physically well away from Marshall

Hines. He felt left out of everything, shunned by the boys and on occasion stared at by the

girl; all he could think about was his mum. He missed her desperately and tears poured down

his face in the dark. He glanced down the poorly lit bus towards Kit Kat. She was such a girly

girl with a yellow and white checked dress and black pumps. He said ‘god knows’ under his

breath for the hundredth time and focussed on the never ending road in front of the driver. He

had memorised every road sign since leaving London in case he wanted to run back to his

home, but what was the point? By now the council would have re-housed someone into their

flat.

‘What does SAS stand for?’ said Timmo, ‘Is it an airline or something?’ Hines listened

closely for a clue about his new location.

Jack teased his brother. ‘You dimmo, Timmo. SAS means Sausages And Sauce, that’s the

only food you are allowed to eat in the training camp.’

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‘Urm! Yummy scrummy, I can’t wait to get there and have breakfast then.’ Replied Timmo

the complete dimmo. Jack delighted in misinforming his brother but now he had also

confused Marshall as well. Roger was looking out of the window and being serious compared

to The George brothers. It was pouring with rain by now as they headed southwards on the

M50 motorway but the sun occasionally glinted through gaps in the clouds. The spray from

passing lorries meant he could barely see the rolling green hills of Herefordshire through the

condensation running down the glass of the old army bus.

He corrected his best friend. ‘SAS stands for Special Air Service as you well know Jack. One

of the top anti-terrorist units in the world, renowned for their work in Afghanistan for

example, when they took out the Taliban HQ in Kandahar. Their motto of course is ‘who

dares wins.’

Wolf turned to face them all from his vantage point by the driver, by the door. A place to be

defended or a place to prevent escape. There were no other doors on the bus.

‘Heads down everyone! I don’t want any guards or passing soldiers catching site of you

inside the camp.’ The five children dutifully squatted behind the seats and stayed in position

until ordered to rise by Wolf as the bus pulled up ten minutes later. ‘Out! Shore, you go first.’

‘Why?’ She was feeling peeved by Wolf’s attitude, she didn’t like the use of surnames to

address colleagues and certainly not friends. ‘What’s your name then?’

‘Firstly you get out because I told you so, it was an order.’ He wavered slightly, it was a child

after all, ‘and secondly because you are a lady and lady’s should always go first.’ As an

afterthought he added, ‘My real name is unimportant, everyone just calls me Wolf.’

‘Thank you Mr Wolf’ and she flounced past him and walked down the metal steps. As Kate

stepped onto the pavement, she noticed Sergeant Sargent standing on the wet pavement,

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thankfully the rain had stopped. He was standing to attention with a large burnished stick in

his right hand. He cocked his left eye and stared at her before barking an order.

‘Line up next to me please Miss.’ She shuffled next to him and waited for the others to alight.

With the boys he was less polite. Each time he barked out an order, ‘come here boy’ or ‘not

that way George’, the commands made her jump each time. ‘Hoy! You!’ He stopped Hines

walking the wrong way. ‘Now then, now then,’ he prevented Roger from crossing the road as

a silver Range Rover pulled up. Eventually the five children were lined up alongside him and

the two adults joined them.

‘My name is Brett. This is Sergeant Sargent and we will be looking after you. You have

obviously met Wolf who is on the team.’ He gave them a moment to stare around at their

surroundings.

Jack was the first to comment. ‘This training camp looks more like a caravan park. A lovely

place, just like when we went on our “hols” in Wales last year.’ Wolf looked around sharply

and stopped himself asking the boy to remain quiet. He was struggling with the fact they

were children being asked to perform an adult’s job. Sergeant Sargent forced the line of

children to bundle closer to one another. He too had forgotten they were just kids and not

SAS recruits.

Wolf used a softer tone. ‘You are very much mistaken George. This is the holiday from hell.

Do you understand?’

Jack gulped. ‘Yes sir.’

Wolf’s reply was still quite hard and cold. ‘Yes Wolf.’ He demanded their respect in the most

insignificant of ways.

‘Yes Wolf.’ But Jack wasn’t afraid of him. He was being polite.

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Brett stepped in. ‘This is an SAS training facility where you will be taught many exciting

new skills. Each day you will receive specialist anti-terrorist training. For example, using

aerial ropeways, shooting machine guns, firing bazookas, driving tanks and fast boats etc.

Maybe learning to fly and to parachute but only in case of an emergency.’

‘Wow!’ Timmo had finally woken up. ‘Tanks! How fabtastic.’

‘Follow me!’ Wolf led the way into a large cream static caravan labelled St. Davids and

turned sharply right towards the rear double bedroom. They stopped again whilst he lifted the

foot of the double bed. Instead of stored duvets and sheets, they were astonished to see a wide

set of steps lit by a single fluorescent light. ‘Come!’ He was a man of few words as he

stepped down without looking back. Sergeant Sargent followed up the rear to ensure no on

“got lost”. ‘Sergeant, lower the bed behind you.’

‘Yes sir.’

At the foot of a dozen steps was a passageway. The walls and ceiling were painted with

white gloss and the floor was in a dark matt green. It was immaculate without a smudge of

dirt. After walking a few hundred metres they came to a metal blast door with a large round

handle that Wolf spun anti-clockwise to unlock. It swung open slowly and ponderously to

reveal a hive of activity.

He stood in front of the group. ‘You train here and sleep upstairs, okay?’

‘Okay’ came a mumbled reply in unison as the five children stared transfixed by the new

underground facilities of the SAS. To their right was a gym and beyond it a boxing ring

where two soldiers were sparring. To the left were more than 100 men and women sat in front

of a dazzling array of computer screens. Some displays showed aerial shots of Afghanistan

taken by the stealth drones circling high above the Taliban camps. The small aeroplanes were

controlled by the joysticks mounted in front of the operatives, at a distance of 6000

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kilometres from the drone. Other screens monitored SAS soldiers vital symptoms such as

heartbeat and brain activity as they mounted an attack against a terrorist base in Southern

Yemen. There was too much to take in, but at the centre of the facility was a training

operation that excited Jack and Timmo and made Roger and Kit Kat swoon with fright.

Soldiers were leaping off a 100 metre high tower with a bungee cord fastened to their ankles.

Free falling with their arms outstretched, they reached the limits of the rubber cord and

stopped within a few centimetres of the floor before bouncing back. This gave them time to

grab the blissfully unaware sheep that was bleating plaintively beneath them. As the soldier

jerked upwards, the sheep was clasped safely in his arms but was jerking about trying to free

itself from his strong arms.

Jack spoke first. ‘How cool is that! But why the woolly whiner?’

Wolf explained. ‘A large Welsh sheep, preferably four years old, gives the best feel for a real

human being. It struggles and shouts and so do our captives sometimes,’ he glanced at Kit

Kat who was deathly white, ‘and women must also learn “the snatch” as we call it.’

‘Because?’ she said.

‘Because whether from a helicopter or a bridge we may need to snatch back hostages or

snatch the baddies. Okay?’ She didn’t reply, the concept had made her stricken with fear.

‘Right, let’s get some breakfast. How about it Sergeant?’

‘Yes sir!’ The sergeant spoke in a loud bellow, he had no volume control. Ironically, the only

food left in the soldiers Mess were sausages and brown or tomato sauce as jokingly predicted

by Jack.

Marshall sat next to the other children for the first time and chatted. It was Kate who asked

him where he lived, did he like the “world domination” game and what did he think of the

training camp. He gave her short answers but at least he and they felt more of a group,

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especially when the ice was broken by Timmo. The dimmo squeezed the ketchup bottle