EIGHTEEN
They put him in handcuffs and shackles. He began to wriggle almost immediately once he came around. At first in panic but later, it turned into defiance. Dragging him along by his feet, his body scrapped along the tarmac towards the large concrete warehouse. They were dragging him as you would drag a heavy bag of potatoes. Too heavy to carry easier to drag.
The men knew from their training that the more you kept your distance from your captive the easier it was to control them. Each of the guards had been grilled over and over again about the Stockholm syndrome.
Bill Tender was one of the men dragging Stuart across the tarmac. He could remember one of the training sessions as though it was yesterday. He remembered how the ‘Stockholm Syndrome’, or to give it is proper title ‘capture-bonding’ was described. This is a psychological phenomenon in which captors express empathy and feelings towards their hostages. There were even cases in which they would defend the hostages themselves.
Everyone knew that these feelings were considered completely irrational in light of the danger or risk, which essentially created a situation in which the captor is no longer able to abuse their hostage and begin to turn from violence to irrational acts of kindness and compassion.
He could even remember the case studies. In one example Mary McElroy was kidnapped and held for ransom in 1933 and released by her captors unharmed. One of her four captors were apprehended and given maximum sentences. However the guilt he experienced and rational for letting her free resulted in him suffering from feelings of guilt concerning the case which compromised his mental and physical health resulting in him taking his own life in 1942.
So treating him as badly as possible and remaining unattached to him was their goal. This allowed Bill and one of the other guards to feel fine about throwing him on the ground that resulted in his face arms and legs shattering upon impact on the concrete floor.
They picked him up letting his blood spat onto to the ground as if it was sweat. The two large men then lifted him up and placed him inside a box. A large and heavy wooden box with a large black cross on the top. However, it felt tiny inside. So tiny that Stuart was unable to move his body at all. The shackles were very tight and the pain was overwhelming.
All this did not matter much as he was out cold and would soon need to be taken to the nearest A&E ward if he was to survive the day.
A few hours later Stuart was pulled out of the box. By now, he had lost all feelings in his arms and legs and could barely breathe under the weight of his pain. He was dragged across to a single metal chair that stood in the middle of a large majestic storage facility.
‘Right let us begin and get this out of the way’ Bill said.
The other man, whose name was Fred Williams pulled off Stuart’s dark coloured blind exposing him to the light.
Stuart had no idea where he was or what was going to happen next.
‘OK the time is now 4.15 on June 5th 2012. My name is Williams. I am attached to the Joint Counter Terrorism team MI5, I have with me Stuart Page and this interview is being conducted in Army Communication Office Highland Region at the bequest of MI6. Stuart just for the purpose of this tape and for voice identification could you state your full name please.
‘Stuart Page’
He spat out a mouth full of blood that splattered onto the floor, a last act of defiance.
A few seconds later a powerful blow caught him squarely in the jaw sending him reeling into his chair. Stuart had barely enough time to brace his body before a second blow hit him that buried itself into his stomach forcing Stuart to vomit up the remains of his breakfast onto the blood stained floor making him breathless and gagging for air.
Stuart looked up through his bloodied and watering eyes. He looked up at a William’s who was a huge gigantic man. In another world, he could have been your stereotypical bouncer or parade Sergeant Major.
Williams wore a black suit and a black shirt with no tie. His face was covered in stubble and from his expression, he took neither pity nor compassion for Stuart. On one side of his arm was a red scar that looked like a stamp you would put on a cow or pig.
‘Where is this man?’
He handed over a picture of Simon to Stuart.
Stuart began to laugh.
Another smash of the man fist ended the laugh.
That was enough for Stuart. He passed out having been knocked out by the force of William’s punch.
‘Try not to kill him, we have been told to keep him alive remember!’ said Bill
‘Where do they get these animals from’ thought Bill
Bill felt that there was an art to interrogation. He had at least read a few books including the quote from the Roman jurist Ulpian ‘anyone will tell you what you want to hear eventually as they would rather lie than suffer’. But he guessed that William’s had missed that class.
Bill picked up a bucket of water and threw it over Stuart. The cold icy water did the job required bringing him back around.
Coughing Stuart started to explain that he was dead and how he had found him on the floor of his flat that fateful evening. He then went onto explain how he had fled his flat and was going to work out how the attack on the Chinese president was going to take place and stop it.
‘Tell me what he told you before he died’.
‘I have told you already’
Stuarts attempt at denying anything turned into a grunt of pain as William’s lifted up his right arm and began to twist it around by his thumb
‘Stop lying’
He hit him again, causing Stuart to pass out. The pain of the attacks and being cramped in a small box for several hours proving too much.
Williams, another guard called Smith and Bill picked him up of his chair and dragged Stuart back to his cell placing him again in the box where he would be left to recover.
The men then sat down to play a round of cards. Bill was quickly kicked out losing in the first round and with his exit went £20 pounds.
Leaving the table, he decided to phone Susan to give her an update.
Susan who was travelling as quickly as she could heard her phone ring. She ordered her driver to continue. She let it ring for a few more seconds. She answered it.
‘We have interviewed him. He does not know anything. He thinks Simon is dead’
‘What do you want us to do with him?’
‘Dump him in the cairngorms!’
‘Great’ thought Bill Williams and his meathead colleague Smith would enjoy this. Such a waste of everyone’s time.
A few minutes later Bills Phone rang again, it was Susan
‘Bill, are you sure he knows nothing.’
‘Yes he was simply the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time’.
‘Carry on interrogating him, but keep him alive’.
Susan began to wonder if Simon was dead, perhaps he had been killed in the bomb explosion in Edinburgh or perhaps Stuart had killed him.
Susan driver continued to drive the vehicle north. Drifting away, she noticed some of the trees turning brown in the sun light.
As the vehicle drove north towards her team, she could not help but notice the first rain of the day coming down from the great glens like a tsunami rushing down towards the road that lay ahead.
The large vehicle drove through the rain storm, which lashed her vehicle, and the road around her as it weaved around the curves and bends of the highland roads.
She surveyed the shambles of the road ahead.
‘Driver, slow down!’
‘Stuart will still be there even if it takes another hour to get there.’
She then took her eyes of the road and looking up through the great grey weather beaten skyline she spotted two RAF Tornado aircraft that seemed to almost collide into the glen as they swopped across the mountain range.
‘That was close’, she whispered
Bringing her attention back to her driver she watched as he carried on driving North towards the army base where the now battered and bruised Stuart lay passed out.
She looked at her GPS and could see that she would be there in just over 1 hour.
‘Excellent, in just over one hour I will have my answers’, she whispered to herself.
She would know one way or another if Stuart was saying the truth and then they would dump his body in some desolate mountain range and make it look like he had been lost on one of the moors and died from hyperthermia.
A few minutes later the three men prepared to pick up Stuart from his now blood stained box. His tomb was covered in urine and excrement from the previous attack.
As they prepared to move his almost dead body across to his death chamber Smith spotted something in his bloodied clothes.
He reached over to prize out a small black book no more than a few inches long.
It was the black book that Simon had hidden in the cornflake packet and had been previously translated by Stuart using the code on the West Highland Way.
‘What is this’ said one of the men
‘Give it me let me take a look’ ordered Bill in a strong voice, which told the others not to fuck around with him.
‘It nothing, it’s just full of numbers and meaningless jargon’.
Smith threw it over his shoulder and it landed amongst a file of rubble and dirt.
The three men lifted up Stuart’s almost dead body.
In the background, a man watched as they lifted up his body. He stood motionless watching the three continue their work. Unobserved her slowly approached from the corner of the warehouse.
A smile came over his face as he picked up the back book.
‘So you did manage to hold onto it Stuart’, he said under his breath.
‘Really guys you should appreciate books a lot better’ he said.
The other men all laughed in quick succession as they turned to see who was cracking the joke.
None saw Simon lift up a small pistol.
He picked up his 9mm Browning high powered semi-automatic pistol from the inside of his jacket. In quick succession, he rattled off 9mm bullets. One by one each of the guards were struck as volley after volley of bullets rained through the air. His arm moving from left to right as he picked each of the interrogators off. No remorse or regret. Each round of bullets was fired of in quick succession.
One guard had his chest ripped open as two bullets punctured his lungs and heart killing him instantly.
Another guard was brought crashing to the ground. His body spinning him around bringing him hurtling to the floor with his legs blown off the ground and thrown into the air. Finally, the last guard Bill who was faced with his back to Simon had his stomach ripped open and his brain blown off as bullets shattered away from Simon’s gun.
Simon watched as one by one each men fell. His revenge satisfied.
Checking that no one else was in the large warehouse, he stood motionless and listened for the tell-tale sounds of movement. All remained silent as the smoke from the gun settled.
He dropped his gun and walked over to Stuart.
‘I am sorry old friend that I had to do this’
Simon walked over to Stuart’s trunk. He tried to open the door but realised it was locked. Before the gun battle broke out, one of the men must have somehow locked his cage. He walked over to the guards. Checking the first man’s pockets, he found a set of cell keys, car keys and a swipe card of some sort. He also took his wallet that contained some cash and several credit cards. Walking back over to Stuart’s trunk, he unlocked the door with the swipe card.
As he Pulled Stuart out the box, he could smell the stench of death rolling into his nostrils. Realising his comrade was dead; he lifted his dead body off his coffin of death. Carrying his body, he lay it down on the ground.
He quickly checked his pulse confirming what he feared Stuart was dead. Not knowing why he started to cry. Another life wasted and for what. He could feel the venom and anger inside him build up. He sat down on the floor and let the tears flow. Great sobs came out as he mourned and wept for poor Stuart. At the end, he rubbed his eyes scrapping away his tears to the left and right of his eyes. He rubbed his nose and sat there motionless.
He remembered a poem he had learned at school in Northern Ireland. It was a poem by Laurence Binyon.
At first he felt a silly regurgitating the poem but then it realised it was a fitting epitaph to his friend, who had simply fallen into this battle he had begun.
Simon began to read the poem from his memory.
‘They shall grow not old,
As we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them,
Nor do the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning we will remember them.’
Simon paused. There was silence. No sound, no voices, just silence. The silence seemed to last forever and it was his way of not just remembering Stuart but those who had lost their lives defending what they believed in. It gave him time for reflection, and also created a sense of solidarity. Boundaries of age, sex, class, and religion, are set aside for us all when we think of the dead helping us feel bonded to each other in remembrance. He also mourned for the death of the interrogators who he knew were only acting on their orders. He felt mixed emotions. He was glad they were dead, as they had conducted cruel acts on Stuart. He was also sorry for their death. Needless and wasted lives.
‘I am sorry old friend that I could not save you, but your death will not be wasted’.
With a sigh, he turned away and began to walk to the bodies of the dead guards.
He quickly searched the bodies of the two other guards prizing out several hundred pounds of cash, two credit cards, car keys and a swipe card.
He then remembered seeing a laptop in one of the break off rooms. He walked over to the laptop. He turned on the laptop and it asked for finger identification. Therefore, he walked over to one of the guards that had been using the laptop. Cutting the dead man’s finger off with his Swiss army knife, he placed the top of the dead finger on the laptop.
The laptop sprang into action. He quickly moved the mouse to the Start logo and then opening up the drop down screen set the mouse above the recent items logo. A few seconds later a series of documents flashed up. Searching through a series of transport orders Simon quickly identified that Norman Brook and Tony Eden had authorised and counter signed the movement of L72A9 Light Anti-Structure Missiles, 81mm Mortars, and Sharpshooter Rifles from this base to a series of addresses in Birmingham, Edinburgh, Manchester, Bradford, and London.
‘Got you!’ said Simon. He then e-mailed the evidence to a few contacts and then picked up the laptop in his arms.
***
Outside Susan pulled up to the front of the deserted army base. As with most Army bases in mainland Britain security was managed through an IT consortium that only allowed access upon production of a swipe card. This had saved millions of pounds over the last few years as soldiers had been made redundant leaving security to automated systems.
She drove her car towards the main warehouse that stood to the east of the barracks. She passed building after building that was deserted of men and was now full of mothballed equipment no longer required. She wondered how much money had been wasted building up these vast armouries only to find them replaced with drone aircraft and 24 hours surveillance.
Finally, she got to the building where her team was holding Stuart. She jumped out of her vehicle and keeping herself in check walked over to the entrance. She felt like young teenage girl getting ready to rush off to the shops during the January sales with her Christmas money.
She opened the door and entered the building. She called out to her team expecting them to come immediately to her. She was stunned to hear only silence. She called out again, but there was still silence.
This immediately sparked off her defences and she immediately drew her weapon.
She stepped out of the building to check she was in the right building. Seeing it was, she cocked her gun and stepped back into the building. A few feet behind her, the driver followed.
Simon heard her call. He took one last look around him to see if there was nothing else to incriminate all parties. He then walked with the laptop in his arms out of the room.
To anyone looking in he looked like he was casually walking away. But in reality, he was in a panic. His training had kicked in and he knew he had to prevent any attention being drawn towards him. He noticed a fire extinguisher on the wall. He carefully picked it up. He then set it off and threw it in the opposite direction. A great mist erupted in the air as CO2 gas was set off. Two bullets were fired at the extinguisher and Susan and her guards attention was drawn away. This allowed him to leave the building and enter into a large green Pinzgauer 6x6 All-Terrain Vehicle. Unobserved he got into his vehicle closing the door quietly avoiding detection. He then prepared to drive away. He placed the laptop on one of the passenger seats. Using the keys from one of the dead guards, he turned the ignition on. The vehicle started first time.
‘Great’ he said.
Very slowly, the vehicle pulled away.
As the vehicle left the compound, Susan came out of the building leaving the death and mayhem behind her.
She looked up taking in the face of the man driving the vehicle away.
She ran over to the Black Range Rover, she radioed her driver to get back in the vehicle. Both ran with great speed towards the vehicle. The Driver leapt in and started the vehicle up. Once Susan was in the vehicle and her door was shut, he accelerated away. The vehicle now headed in the direction of the green army vehicle which had left a few minutes before.