Chapter 14
Thursday, March 8th 12:45,
Vauxhall, London.
Rachel fiddled with her dark brown hair and stepped off the number 36 bus, narrowly avoiding a group of school kids who were waiting with their teacher. A cold wind had come in and what had been a predominant blue sky had now turned heavily overcast. She wore a long-sleeved light blue top, black jeans and a long grey jacket. As she walked briskly along the street, she tried to find the umbrella in her bag. It was underneath her folded nurse’s uniform and had it open just in time as the first droplets began to fall from the dismal-looking sky. Just the sight of her uniform made her recall the last eight hours. It had been another difficult shift at Guy’s Hospital. But then again, working in the casualty unit of any hospital as a nurse was never routine. Of late though, she had struggled to treat the constant flow of patients without becoming emotionally involved in each case, and that constant drain of energy had left her feeling very tired.
Just the other day she had been talking with another nurse about why she had been reacting this way. Rachel had been a nurse for eight years now, and at twenty-nine years old she couldn’t remember the last time it had all become such a struggle. For weeks now she had been unable to put her finger on what was the cause and then a D.O.A. had come into the casualty unit and for the scariest moment she could have sworn it was her fiancé, Sam Olsen, and that had terrified her. She’d felt physically sick for hours and had been unable to shake the image of her future husband lying helpless on a trolley. After all, just how hard had she tried over the years to make him see the risks? Had she done enough? Did he know just how much she wanted him to leave MI6?
That was the problem, and she knew why. Only a few days before, she had found some paperwork at Olsen’s flat which had clarified what had happened on his previous operation. Not that the paperwork gave much away, it was so formal, and it could be read in so many ways, but it was obvious the jargon and general innuendo was hiding something dangerous. Information they didn’t want people to know. That was her future husband’s job, not nine to five, or pushing paper around, he worked for the government on the most dangerous form of work there was.
Truth be told, she didn’t exactly know what he did, and that didn’t help. Not that he could tell her, the Official Secrets Act put paid to that. He was a government agent, which was bad enough, but what exactly did he do? Protect people? Work in the background or on the front line? Every time, or had things changed?
They had talked about it, but each time he had visibly clammed up and though she had found out some details important to her, it had never been enough, and she had learnt to push it away. Until now. Maybe it was the passing of time, it was hard to say, but she knew one thing, living with the knowledge that her husband may never return time and time again would be too much for her in the long run. Despite being besotted with Olsen, she found it was getting harder and harder. With every goodbye at the airport, the painful moment when he disappeared seemed to hurt her more each time, and all she longed for was a normal life. Not necessarily nine to five but knowing at least that she wasn’t going to lose the man she loved years before their time.
As she came around the corner, she saw Sam waiting dutifully outside a Café Uno restaurant. Even from a distance it looked like he was guarding the building rather than waiting for her. My Sam, always the protector.
Rachel saw her man visually brighten as she came into view. They hugged each other and then kissed softly. She searched his dark brown eyes and his features. He was happy to see her, that was obvious, but straight away she knew he had bad news, she had seen it many times before and even though she tried not to look, it was all helpless. It could only mean one thing.
He was going away again.
Rachel’s heart fluttered as they went inside, and her appetite vanished in a flash. She was already preparing herself for that heart-wrenching goodbye where they would both kid themselves it was going to be OK, when in reality it was all out of their control and for Rachel, there was nothing worse.
Burton leant forward and placed his elbows on the desk in his office. A radiant smile spread across his face, and his eyes suddenly filled with life at the sight of his wife and child walking towards him. All the pain and darkness he had experienced faded away as he got up and walked towards the love of his life. Before he could hold her, a noise emanated from behind, one that wouldn’t go away. Burton tried to dismiss it and took another step forward, but something pulled him back. To his dismay, the image of his family dissolved, and he awoke with a grunt and the sight of his assistant shaking him, as he sat back in his chair fast asleep.
‘Sir, wake up, please!!’
Burton rubbed his temples and leant forward. His head was spinning, and his whole body felt like a ten-ton weight. ‘OK, I’m here!’ He caught sight of a look from his assistant, which was full of pity. ‘I’m not as bad as I look, OK?’
The young assistant raised her eyes to the ceiling and walked out of the room, silently talking to herself as she went. ‘If you say so.’
Burton opened his bloodshot eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning. He took a deep breath and struggled out of the chair. Only in the last few hours had the realisation that his family had left him sunk in. Sleep had been impossible, eating had been out of the question. Burton was convinced that if he could just talk to Kate one more time, they could patch things up. Finding her had proven to be the problem. During the early hours of the morning, Burton had driven to his wife’s sister’s and forced his way inside the house. His family were nowhere to be seen. All of his wife’s friends had not heard from her, and there appeared to be no trail. I won’t give up, I’ll find them eventually, and then we’ll be together again.
The view from his office window held his concentration as a single boat passed under Vauxhall Bridge along the River Thames. Once again, his mind began to float away as the hypnotic waves took him away to a place where his family was with him again. He gave a shake of the head and opening the large filling cabinet, removed a folder, but winced hard as the words on the pages failed to come into focus. In the cabinet he caught sight of several important satellite images and silently cursed to himself. Before he pushed the cabinet closed, he caught sight of a bottle and glass hidden at the far end. A memory came to him from months before when he had placed it there. His mouth suddenly felt dry and within seconds, he reached for the whisky and poured himself a double.
Bedford’s head snapped up sharply as his senses registered a noise from above. As he slowly moved along the corridor, his prisoner shuffled along in front of him. At the office he had originally entered several minutes before, he pushed the pistol of his weapon firmly against the head of his prisoner and looked around. The door was pushed back to the wall, and there was no one in the room. Bedford quickly did a 180-degree sweep. The corridor was empty, and there was no sign of the man he had knocked unconscious on the ground level where several tourists still lingered. His hostage began to shake his head. Bedford was growing tired of the man’s arrogance. ‘You got something to say, then say it!’ he shouted.
Arrogance boiled up inside of Ferec, knowing it would not be long before he would have the government agent’s life in his hands. He spoke in a calm voice. ‘Give yourself up, my friend. This will all end in your death either way.’
Bedford composed himself and drew on the years of experience he had gained in the field, mostly based in Poland as POL1. Throughout that time, he had never encountered anyone as arrogant or startling as the man at the end of his pistol. He put on his most confident tone. ‘Don’t bet on it, the only way you’ll be leaving this country is in a box.’ He felt a sense of accomplishment as his hostage fell silent, but within moments, the laughter had returned. His feelings merged with the adrenalin that flowed around his body and he slammed down the butt of his Browning pistol with all his might. The laughter stopped instantly as the body fell limp. Bedford caught hold of him and dragged him along the corridor to the staircase. Several of the overhead lights didn’t work and the dark shadows overcame them. Bedford pulled the prisoner to his feet and gave another sweeping glance to the silent corners of the church.
Jozef moved for the first time in almost half an hour and put on a priest’s robe that sat on the shelf. The door of the wardrobe in the office opened as Jozef stepped out and reached the doorframe. His senses had registered that the attacker and his friend had passed the room and were no doubt heading to the church exit. As he looked out, he saw the agent drag Ferec to his feet. For a moment he felt concern for Ferec but he ignored it and screwed on the silencer attachment to his pistol. The longer this goes on the greater chance he has of escaping! His eyes lit up as he stepped out and pumped his legs as hard as he could down the corridor. His right hand held his pistol as he took aim.
Bedford pulled the hostage to his feet again and started down the stairs. Straight away his whole body jumped as a noise came from behind. A silent alarm went off in his head as he instinctively threw away his hostage and swivelled as fast as he could in the opposite direction. There, the darkness fell away at the sight of a priest sprinting towards him. The face of the priest forced his eyes to grow ever wider at the realisation that it was in fact the second attacker. Bedford lifted his weapon to fire, but his logical brain knew it was too late. Searing pain came from his right shoulder as the cold steel of the bullet impacted his body. The force of it pushed him off balance and the floor and the ceiling switched places, until finally, everything turned black.
Jozef came to a halt and rushed down the stairs to the small crowd that had gathered around the fallen agent. With the pistol concealed beneath his robe, Jozef was thankful he was wearing the robes of a priest as the crowd instantly made way for him. The agent was bleeding which worried the gathering locals, but Jozef could see he was still breathing. In an attempt to defuse the crowd, he placed his hands wide in the air and reassured them. His robes fooled everyone around. ‘Do not worry, I’ve already called an ambulance.’
Jozef picked up the legs of the fallen agent as Ferec, who looked woozy, appeared and grabbed the head. Several of the crowd spoke of their concern at moving him but the two men quickly moved towards the exit and caught sight of the waiting grey Mercedes car on the edge of the market square. There were shouts of alarm, but Jozef ignored them as they left the church at a rapid pace and dropped the body on the back seat of the car. The crowd of people that had gathered were confused as to what had actually happened.
The car sped through the surrounding roads until Jozef told the driver to pull over on a nearby grass verge. He looked back from the front seat and saw his close friend and ally, Ferec, point a pistol at the head of their hostage. ‘Now, my young friend. What is your name and where are you staying in this godforsaken country?’
Again, Bedford said nothing. The shoulder wound he had sustained had now been stabilised, but the pain was still written across his face.
Jozef took pleasure in recognising that and smiled. ‘You’re outnumbered, you have no means of escape, and you have no backup. You could, however, help yourself and answer my questions.’
Bedford weighed up his options and looked around the car from the back seat. Including the driver and the two men from the church, he was outnumbered three to one, but that didn’t mean there was no way to escape. His training and experience had taught him one thing; never give up.
In one swift motion he slammed his right elbow into Ferec’s face and kicked out at Jozef with his feet. It was enough to give him the seconds he needed as he opened the car door.
Ferec tried to grab hold of his prey, but it was too late.
Bedford was free but for how long remained to be seen. From the car he slipped down a grass bank but got himself to his feet and ducked behind an electricity box on the side of the road. With no weapon there was no way he could fight back but Bedford knew he had to try to send a message back to MI6. He allowed himself one look back to the terrorists and saw the car doors open as they started to search for him.
‘We need him alive!’ Jozef loaded his weapon and got out of the car to join Ferec who had already started the search.
Bedford couldn’t stay where he was and moved as fast as he could down the road, leaving the terrorists at the top of the slip road above. As he ran, a green Ford drove by, and he tried to get the attention of the driver.
From the top of the slip road Ferec saw the movement and set off in pursuit.
To Bedford’s relief, the green Ford slowed down, and the window lowered on the driver’s side. He stopped and leaned against the door. ‘I need your help, can I—’
Ferec was metres away and dropped to his knees and fired.
There were several shots, but Bedford only remembered the one that blew out his right knee and some of the car door. The force of the blast flipped him over. On the ground, he tried to reach for the car but the driver screamed in panic and accelerated away.
Ferec was onto his prey in seconds and aimed his weapon at the woman driving the green Ford.
Jozef restrained his friend. ‘No! We don’t need any more attention. Get into the car!’
Their car pulled up and Jozef opened the door.
Bedford tried to crawl away but didn’t have the energy.
Ferec grabbed hold of his prey and shoved him onto the back seat.
Bedford cried out in pain as blood poured out from where his right knee once was. The determination he had felt to escape had gone.
Jozef got into the car and looked back. ‘Here we are again, my friend. I’m afraid you cannot escape us. Now tell me your name!’
Ferec smashed the butt of his weapon into the remains of Bedford’s knee.
His reserves of mental strength had gone. There was nothing more Bedford could do, but try to find other means of survival and that meant co-operating with terrorists. ‘Bedford…. that’s my name.’
Jozef smiled at Ferec. This is where the fun begins, he thought to himself. ‘I see. Now, Bedford, who do you work for, and where do you live?’
‘I live in…in the flats near the Czartoryski Museum.’
Jozef gave directions to the driver, and the car began to move. He then looked back at the hostage. ‘Who do you work for? Your other knee will be the next target if you don’t answer me.’
Bedford swallowed, tried again to block out the pain, but submitted to it once more. He looked at the attacker in the front seat but found no mercy in his eyes. The man next to him slowly moved the gun across to his other knee. Bedford closed his eyes and tried to find what little resistance remained...
Olsen tasted the first mouthful of his lasagne and grimaced slightly at the heat.
Amidst the calm setting within Café Uno, waiters buzzed around. Other couples and businessmen and women discussed the day’s events, and the rain continued to hit the windows, at times catching a few gasps of surprise from the nearest customers.
For Rachel the rain was just background noise. All she could think about was where Sam was going, why, and whether she had the strength to go through it again. She questioned herself constantly but knew that, as ever, she would find the strength and come through. She loved Olsen with all her heart, but did he really know how she felt?
‘How was your shift?’
Rachel picked at her salmon fish cakes. ‘Not great. I don’t know, of late it’s all been tough going, I haven’t been coping well.’
‘I know. I’ve been thinking about you. Is it the level of work? Or maybe we just need a break? Maybe we should sit down and plan—’
Rachel couldn’t take a moment more. ‘Where are you going? Please tell me, Sam…I just need to know.’
Olsen put down his fork and raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘What makes you think I’m going anywhere? Rach, I can understand—’
‘I know you…I know us. Whenever I see that look in your eyes I know you’re going to sit there and say you’ve got to go away again, and I just…..’ She placed a hand over her forehead and looked away. ‘I just hate the fact that we don’t have a normal life.’
‘I have been meaning to talk to you about this. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I hate this side of it. I feel so guilty, and truth be told, you deserve so much better.’
Rachel reached out and took hold of his hands. ‘No! Don’t say that. I’m so lucky to have you, and I can’t lose you, I just can’t.’
A warm smile came to Olsen’s face. ‘But you wish I did something else for a living?’
‘I can’t deny it. We’ve been together for almost nine years now, and I know in my heart I can’t live without you, but the thought of losing you terrifies me. Even more so because I know I am going to lose you before I was meant to.’
Olsen stroked her hands softly. Just hearing the words made him feel awful. He was causing this pain, but still he would hold on to his career, purely because he wanted to make a difference and could feel the fire burning within that told him he always could. ‘Rachel…’
‘When you proposed in France, I guess I just assumed that things would change and you would start to think of changing direction in your work but now that you have this promotion and your own team, whatever it is they do, that seems even further away. Do you know how it feels to see you go at the airport, or kiss you goodbye at home knowing there is a big chance you won’t come back to me?’
Olsen stared at his lasagne. ‘No….I guess I’ve just been so preoccupied of late I haven’t been seeing a lot of things. What happened in Oman has affected me more than I realised.’
Rachel remembered the talks they’d had over Oman, the first time where he had really opened up about not only issues with his father, but his work as well. ‘I know, I understand that, and I want to help you through this. Don’t ever think I’m not here for you, or I love you any less, I just want you to look at other jobs. Or at least think about them.’
A mass of questions circled in his mind. Could he do something else? Did he have to be at MI6? What about the police or something entirely different? Training perhaps? A huge wave of awareness came over him and he realised just how selfish he had become. He reached again for her hands and spoke with real purpose. ‘Rach, I know I’m not the easiest person to be with and maybe I’ve been doing this for so long, I just never considered there were other options. But the last thing I want is for the job to become between us, or heaven forbid take you away from me.’ He leant over the table and stroked her brown hair with his right hand. ‘I just can’t let that happen. I’ll start to look at other options. I give you my word I will.’
Rachel almost started to cry, but held off, not wanting to attract any more attention than they already had. ‘Really? I don’t want you to resent me over this, I just want us to be together.’
‘I’ll never resent you for anything. I want to be with you. Nothing will ever change that.’
‘I just don’t want to change you, but your job as it stands right now is so dangerous, I don’t think any woman could deal with it. I really don’t. Your determination to help people and make a difference is one of the reasons I love you so much, but you know, you could do so much, you’re so talented!’ Her voice sounded soft and vulnerable, and she knew it was obvious, but she didn’t care, it was everything to her to make sure Sam knew how she felt.
‘Well then I’ll start to look at the other options. I promise you.’
Rachel smiled back at him and hoped the change would happen. Whatever happened, she had to trust the man she loved. Though she felt stressed after bringing up such a delicate issue, she certain there was some optimism that things would change, and those painful goodbyes would become a thing of the past.
Olsen went back to his lasagne and felt a surge of guilt consume him. How had he become so wrapped up in the job? How could he hurt Rachel this way? More than anything he wanted to make a decision there and then to break the cycle and leave the service, but something held him back and he so desperately wanted to know what that was.
Burton emerged from Cartography Analysis clutching several satellite images of Cracow, Poland. The shot of whisky he had downed some minutes before had helped to calm him as he took a quick look at the fuzzy images that had been downloaded from a CIA satellite. His usual efficiency and interest in his work was disappearing, as his mind struggled to think of anything other than Kate and Oscar. Toppling world leaders or protecting national security now came a distant second if that. Burton opened the door which revealed the Chief of MI6, Elliott, waiting by the desk.
‘Preparations for Operation Reprisal?’ asked the chief of the service. Elliott looked better than he did, much to Burton’s disgust. Doesn’t this guy ever get tired? he thought to himself. ‘Yes, sir, I have the satellite images of Cracow. All looks good. Team S.U.C.O. are just finishing up their preparation and will be reassembling soon. Has POL1’s report come over yet?’
‘Not yet,’ he replied sharply. ‘By the end of the morning, we shall have it. That was the scheduled time. Our profiles suggest the Kiprich brothers will linkup with a Libyan group in the next couple of days. I’ve just finished a conference call with the PM and the Defence Minister. The termination order has been given. I’ll be in Operations Command. Make sure the teams are dispatched quickly. I want you there in one hour.’ Elliott moved away but then lingered near the door. ‘One more thing, Ramsey reported some financial problems you’ve been having of late or something of that ilk. Sorted now, I hope?’
Burton replied quickly. ‘Oh that. Yes, sir, everything’s fine now. My family…are just fine.’
Elliott smiled faintly and thought of his wife Corina for the tenth time that day. ‘That is good, you can’t put a price on your family. And your son? How is he?’
Burton could feel himself welling up, but he pushed it away. ‘Just fine, sir, just fine.’ As he watched his boss leave, an air of pressure was left in the office. Burton rubbed his head and sank in his chair, trying to focus and think straight. From the other side of the office, the whisky bottle called to him again.
Bedford felt the tears run down his face as his captors opened the door to his flat and dropped him by the far corner in the living room. Throughout the car journey he had failed to control the pain and with it his duty to his country. His mind continued to spin out of control as the men approached him. What choice do I have...
Jozef walked into the main living room and looked around. It consisted of a large open spaced room, with an en-suite bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen. It was small and cold, with light streaming in from a solitary window. Jozef knelt down to face his hostage. ‘Now that we’ve established you work for MI6, I think it’s time we finished this, don’t you?’ He raised his left hand and pointed to Bedford’s laptop on the nearby table. ‘Your clearance codes.’ His eyes locked onto the fallen protector. ‘Give them to me,’ he said in a deadly tone.
Bedford tried to move but couldn’t. It had been some time since he had felt anything in his legs. He spoke faintly to his captors. ‘For what…purpose?’
Jozef screwed up his face in a fit of rage and lashed out, kicking the government agent violently on the left knee. ‘That is my business and not yours, now give me the codes!’ He grabbed the laptop and dragged it down onto the floor. Displayed on the screen was the locked screensaver, which required three-character codes and a ten-digit identity code. Jozef knew all too well, they could manipulate MI6 with the data he so desperately wanted. There was no time for more resistance. ‘Do you think this was all a coincidence? We just happened to have this encounter, and it’s been worked out as we go along? I am no fool. For the past week, we’ve been well aware of your presence. We expected it after Oman.’
Bedford raised his head slowly. ‘What are you saying?’
Jozef continued his attempt to bluff. ‘Your family in London. One of my men is with them. They will die tonight if a phone call isn’t made by me.’ A ruthless smile came over his features. ‘Your destiny may be sealed my friend, but your family can still live on.’
Bedford closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to draw strength from somewhere. He opened them to see both men close to him, waiting for his answer. ‘You’re lying. I don’t believe you,’ he said weakly.
‘Are you willing to take that chance? It would be such a waste, now wouldn’t it? Giving your life for your country is one thing, but sacrificing others? Come now.’ Jozef saw the expression change on the face of their prey and leaned in closer. ‘I am a man of my word. Whatever else I may be, if you give me your clearance codes, I swear to you your family will not be harmed.’
Bedford tried to swallow but the pain wouldn’t allow it. His whole body began to feel heavier by the second, well aware of the serious injuries he had sustained. His thoughts reached out to his family in London. I can’t take a chance on my family, they never asked for any of this…
Jozef flipped open his mobile phone and exchanged a look with Ferec who was sitting at the desk. ‘The codes. Give them to me.’
Bedford stayed silent and closed his eyes, desperate for something, someone to give him a chance to get away. What never went away were the thoughts of his family, suffering, because of who he was.
Ferec stepped forward once more and stamped his right foot on Bedford’s head as he swore repeatedly in the face of such defiance. Again, and again, Ferec lashed out until finally he lifted his hostage from the ground and threw him across the wall.
Bedford crashed to the floor and felt every bone in his body ache. The pain was on a totally different level to what he had ever felt before, but it seemed secondary to the welfare of his loved ones. His body was broken, but his mind was still active and consumed with the choices ahead of him. Yes, he could die here and hope that his family would be spared or take the only chance he had available and trust the word of a madman. Anything to save those he held so dear. But what of his other family, his MI6 family, was he not devoted to them too? A dizzying wave came over him as time ran out. As much as he hated himself, he would have to break his oath to MI6.
Ferec whipped out his gun and closed in.
Jozef spoke slowly as his comrade came closer. ‘The codes. I won’t ask again.’
Bedford sent out a silent prayer of forgiveness to Richard Elliott and slowly opened his mouth. ‘P….O…L…126…722…3411.’
Jozef listened to the magic he had obtained and slowly began to smile back at his hostage. Akira will be most pleased when I inform him of this development! He won’t see me as a nobody for much longer! He looked to the table where Ferec had entered the data and was now staring at the official MI6 linkup screens.
Nearby, he heard the hostage mumble some words. Jozef placed a hand on Ferec’s shoulder and spoke calmly, despite struggling to contain himself with the achievement they had managed with the clearance codes. ‘Our friend is getting tired, Zoltan. Take him to the bedroom for a sleep, will you?’
Ferec dragged his prey into the bedroom. He tapped the pistol on Bedford’s head and spoke in a flippant tone. ‘Last requests?’ A sick joy spread through Ferec, knowing that his next kill was going to come very soon. The cold steel of his pistol was pressed against the head of his hostage as a toothy grin spread across Ferec’s face. He savoured the moment and smiled uncontrollably as the bullets put Bedford out of his misery.