Chapter 21
Friday, March 16th 18:00,
Moscow, Russia.
Akira crouched low into an attacking stance and slipped into San Shou, a deadly Chinese style of hand-to-hand combat. Decades before, he had learnt this rare form from one of its founders and with the passing of time he had mastered it to perfection. His eyes locked onto Patrice Marraud, and he told himself to focus only on his vision of the future rather than his opponent and any memories from the past.
A cold wind circled around him, and Akira moved in for the kill. He pulled out the same blade he had used just hours before and swung violently as he edged ever closer.
Marraud winced for a moment but still felt he had something in reserve. The first attack came, and he moved his head to one side with considerable ease and sidestepped away. Another swish of the knife came perilously close to his chest, but Marraud jerked his body to avoid it and rolled onto the floor. With each move, the stinging pain from his stomach threatened to take over but somehow, he defied the odds.
Akira saw his opponent on the floor and seized his chance. He leapt into the air and plunged the knife downwards. Like a flash, Marraud’s right leg came up and smashed into his chest. Akira flew backwards, lost the grip on his knife and knocked into the stack of air conditioning units that serviced the flats below. As he jumped up, he saw the Frenchman rush towards him, but Akira steadied himself and felt the hatred flow through him. With all his formidable power, he lashed out repeatedly at Marraud, who only managed to deflect one or two blows. Time after time he smashed his palms into his enemy’s face and then focussed on Marraud’s stomach wound.
Marraud felt the first attack on his stomach and almost collapsed there and then. His strength evaporated in seconds, and he cried out in pain as one attack after another plunged into his stomach. The last one caused his vision to spin out of control as he shuddered and dropped to his knees.
Beneath the black mask, Akira smiled in victory as he put his hands together and smashed down on Marraud who flipped backwards and ended in a heap at the side of the roof. Akira walked over to his fallen opponent, who was making a vain attempt to get to his feet. A well-placed upper cut caused Marraud to topple over the side of the roof. Akira reached out and caught him by his jacket collar.
Marraud’s vision was failing, and his body was giving out. He felt for the memory stick in his jacket pocket but realised that too had been broken and was in pieces. All he could hope for was that some of his report had been received by MI6. His lifeless blue eyes just managed to glance up to the masked man above. His beloved Martine filled his thoughts and Marraud took comfort in the fact that he would soon see her again. At the same time, all the other agents who would perish because he had failed to send crucial information back to Europe made him feel so guilty. Despite all his achievements, his last operation would prove to be a failure. Marraud wanted no pity and started to break the grip on his jacket himself. He would rather die with dignity than be beaten by the animal above him. ‘You’ll never know just what you are…’
Akira didn’t want to hear anything more from Marraud and relinquished his grip. As he watched his prey fall to the ground below, he expected to feel something. Anything. But there was nothing, nothing at all.
His mind overflowed with Madeline’s voice, which grew louder and louder all the time. He stepped onto the adjacent edge, jumped onto the roof of the next building and merged with the early morning light. The dream was still intact.
Ramsey could barely control himself. Just minutes earlier, he had gained access to the pathologist report on Bedford’s file and the discovery had shocked him to his core. The facts were bad enough, but there could be no doubt that Drake was going to do nothing about it. Ramsey was certain of one thing, the man had to go, although it seemed like the Chief of MI6 had everyone in power behind him, including the Prime Minister. He patted his jacket pocket and felt an important document inside, one that had been signed by several senior officials at MI6, in protest at Drake’s appointment and recent decisions. Ramsey prayed it would pave the way for a new dawn. He got into the nearest lift and heard the floors chime by as it took him to Drake’s office. His mind turned to Richard Elliott and wondered how things had gotten so bad in such a short space of time.
Drake heard the buzzer of his intercom and sighed as he was disturbed from his reading. He wasn’t expecting anyone. ‘Yes? I ordered no interruptions.’
The quiet voice of the assistant came over the intercom. ‘I know, I’m sorry, sir. Only, Mr. Ramsey is here, he says it’s urgent.’
The balding Chief of MI6 ground his teeth together and wondered what was so important this time. ‘Fine. Send him in.’
Ramsey gave the steel-plated door a firm push and confidently walked into the office. He stopped only a foot away from the large mahogany desk. Sunlight broke through the early morning shadows and streamed across the room which made his entrance seem even more impressive. Ramsey didn’t speak, just locked his eyes onto the man in front of him.
Drake’s tone was icy cold as he tried to maintain control. ‘Whatever this is, it can wait.’
Ramsey lingered for a second and then spoke with real passion. His findings from the pathologist’s report had made his stomach turn. ‘I can’t do it. I won’t stand by and have the best team we’ve ever had be crucified in that circus you call an inquiry. Whatever you have planned for today, Peter, you can change it.’
Drake got up from his chair, outraged. ‘Who the hell do you think y—’
Ramsey’s voice went deadly calm. ‘You’re the only one who could seal that file.’ He chose not to be specific, betting his superior would know exactly what he was talking about.
Drake replied straight away. ‘I see you’ve been looking in areas that don’t concern you, Kevin.’
Ramsey struggled to control himself. ‘I won’t play these games. You’re going to stop this inquiry, right now.’
‘I’m working under the orders of the Prime Minister and he—’
Ramsey cut his right hand through the air as he stepped closer still. ‘If he knew what was happening here, he wouldn’t agree!’
Drake craned his neck upwards to maintain eye level with his deputy and looked increasingly flustered. ‘He trusts me and would stand—’
‘This isn’t a question of trust! It’s a question of evidence.’ Ramsey tossed a screwed-up piece of paper onto the desk. ‘That’s just one copy. I have several more.’
Drake’s face lost some of its colour as he studied his deputy and tried to work out if he was bluffing. He slowly opened the piece of paper and saw, to his horror, that it was a copy of the pathologist’s report on Bedford. ‘Where did you get this? I locked the file myself!’
Ramsey repeatedly told himself not to throw the weasel of a man up against the wall. His voice powered through every corner of the room. ‘This is over! I don’t care about your deal. Have you seen the time on that report? Have you? Bedford was dead before it even got to us. In other words, the Kiprich brothers got to him. The whole operation was a set-up!’
Drake brushed past. ‘I don’t care. This has come down from the highest level, the PM wants radical changes here, and the defence minister agrees with him! Your personal crusade is useless.’ He moved behind his desk and reached for a folder from a tray. ‘How long have you been here, Kevin?’
‘What?’
Drake answered for him. ‘Almost twenty-five years, by my estimate.’ He made eye contact and spoke with real meaning. ‘For what it’s worth, I admire your tenacity, but this really isn’t the time.’ He leant over his desk and put more emphasis on his words. ‘I will not be challenged.’
Ramsey closed in. ‘I won’t back down; this agency, this country, is in grave danger and your foolish leadership is costing lives.’
Drake handed his deputy a letter that had been stamped with the insignia of the Prime Minister’s office. ‘You’d better read this.’ He lowered his eyes. ‘I am sorry.’
Ramsey’s eyes burned with fury as he took the letter. At the same time, several titles caught his eye, all of which referred to the mandate Drake had been given. As he looked up, he noticed for the first time that three security guards had entered the room and had surrounded him. Ramsey pulled out the letter he had wanted to present but was immediately restrained by the three men.
Drake stepped in. ‘I had anticipated this, Kevin, you haven’t changed.’ His voice changed to a more formal tone. ‘You’re in breach of the protocols laid out by the Prime Minister. I’m charging you with treason and you will be held in an interview room until this inquiry is over. After that we will review your future.’ He looked at one of the guards. ‘That’s all.’
Ramsey struggled to break free but knew when he was beaten. He was dragged out of the room towards the nearest lift. As he heard the door shut behind him, he wondered how he would be able to save his beloved MI6 with such a bleak future ahead of him.
The next day, Olsen glanced at his watch and noted it was five to eleven in the morning. Outside the gates to MI6, he held the hand of his fiancée tightly as they came to a stop. Olsen saw her look of concern and he put his arms around her. ‘You don’t have to worry, Rach, it’s not like I’m going to prison for twenty years,’ he said gently.
‘But you did say Drake has it in for you and the rest of your team. You don’t know what he has planned.’ Rachel’s blue eyes grew ever wider at the thought of her man being taken away from her. She wanted him to leave MI6, there was no point in denying it but having him imprisoned would be almost as bad as losing him completely.
Olsen led her away from the checkpoint. ‘It will be OK,’ he said confidently. ‘The way I’m feeling right now, I’ll most probably just tell Drake where to shove his job. We’re going to be OK, you hear me?’ He saw her nod in partial agreement. He leaned in and gently kissed her as he held her in his arms. As they parted, Olsen smiled back at her and for a moment watched her leave. From the other direction, he saw Carter pass through the checkpoint.
‘How’s she handling it all, Sam?’ asked Carter, whose dark skin seemed slightly paler than usual.
‘Not that great, I just keep telling her it’s going to be OK, you know?’
Carter looked taken aback. ‘You’re kidding, right? We’re deliberately being crucified, and it’s all on Drake’s say so, whether we’ve given good service or not.’
‘It’s all politics now, Dan, our records don’t matter.’
Carter nodded in agreement. ‘Don’t I know it. Do you remember when it just came down to your ability and the surrounding team?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course, it matters.’
Olsen entered the Perspex tube, swiped his ID card through the reader together with his security code and walked into the main lobby with Carter, who had done the same from an adjacent tube. ‘That’s not exactly what I meant, Dan. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these last few days and I’ve been asking myself, do I need to keep doing this? I mean, really?’
Carter frowned in confusion. ‘It’s what we do. What we’ve always done.’
‘Right. But with Drake back and his intentions abundantly clear, it doesn’t look like we’re going to be given the chance to do anything. So why wait until we’re pushed out?’
‘Look, don’t do anything hasty, there are always opportunities around here.’
‘And what about Rachel?’
‘What about her?’
‘We’re going to get married, Dan. I love my work, I won’t deny it, but it doesn’t appear to be the same anymore and I can’t keep treating her this way. Here one minute and gone the next. Things are definitely…changing.’ The thought of no more operations with his best friend saddened him deeply.
Carter shook his head slowly, but reluctantly agreed. His mind started to race, and his own future suddenly seemed worse with Olsen now seemingly set to leave. ‘I can see what you’re saying, I guess… I never saw you leaving this place. What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve no idea. If Rachel is with me though, I know I’ll be fine.’ Olsen found a smile. ‘Trust me.’ He looked away and tried to convince himself that was the case but the other side of him, the side that relished the danger and risk of the job, still wouldn’t fade away. With every step, Olsen never felt at ease and wondered how he would cope without the life of a government agent. It just didn’t seem possible.
Drake took a seat behind the large desk in the briefing room and looked out at the people in front of him. He fluffed his faded beige shirt and still felt the heat from his discussion with Ramsey. He stood up and waited for silence. ‘Thank you. This inquiry is now in session. Our next witness is Hal Burton, S.U.C.O. Commander.’
Burton got up from his seat in the front row and walked across to the centre seat. He had been at MI6 headquarters since seven that morning as he still searched for his wife and child. His hopes were fading by the day. Burton had used every legal method he could in finding them but there was still no sign. Tomorrow I’ll start on my contacts in other countries. I have to find them soon! His concentration returned to the present as he tried to listen to what the Chief of MI6 was saying.
Drake continued. ‘The whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?’
‘I do, sir.’
‘Agent Burton, you may consider yourself under oath. Please be seated. For the record, please state your name and occupation.’
‘I’m Hal Joseph Burton and I’ve been with MI6 since time began.’ Burton laughed to himself but quickly picked up on the silence. ‘Sorry, sir, I’ve been here for almost thirty years and for the last several I’ve been the S.U.C.O. Commander. I coordinate the operations, give the orders and briefings.’
Drake eyed up Burton and wondered how his predecessor had not fired him years ago. Every time Drake saw him, he felt surprised that it was the same man he had first met over seven years ago. Back then he was fit, slim, presentable and extremely dependable. A far cry from the loser I’m looking at now. ‘It’s the briefing you gave to the S.U.C.O. teams that is at the heart of this inquiry, Agent Burton. Tell us exactly what happened when you gave the briefing, please.’
‘Yes, sir.’ He picked up a coffee-stained sheet of paper and looked at the time stamp in the right-hand corner. ‘Monday February twelfth, in the afternoon. That’s when I gave my briefing. We covered all the operation pointers, including the locations of the storage bay and the house. I informed the team exactly what each one would be doing and basically covered all the details they needed to know.’
Drake worked hard not to let his annoyance show. Has the man forgotten everything we had talked about? ‘Details are important here. We’ve heard from Agent Jordan and his deputy that hostages were found in the house. Did you cover that possibility in your briefing?’
Burton answered straight away. ‘Yes, sir, I did.’
‘That’s a goddamn lie!’ screamed Jordan from the back of the room. ‘What are you talking about, Burton? You’re going to crucify us!’ Jordan raced to the front of the room but was held back by several security guards.
Drake cut in. ‘There will be no further outbursts from the floor! Otherwise, you will be removed.’ He watched Jordan be taken back to his seat. ‘Continue, Agent Burton. May I remind you that you are under oath.’
Burton shot a look at Jordan and tried to settle himself. ‘Well…as I said, sir. I covered the hostage possibility in my briefing. It could crop up in any operation. I have it here in my notes and I quote ‘any hostages should be verified and transported back to base’, so it was covered, sir.’ Burton felt the glares from the S.U.C.O. agents and shifted in his seat.
‘Thank you, Agent Burton. A very enlightening testimony. What is your opinion on why the teams failed to recover those hostages?’
Burton shrugged his shoulders. The tame feelings of guilt had already passed. ‘I don’t know, sir, this has never happened before. I wasn’t there though, so I really couldn’t say.’
Drake made some notes and gave a slight nod to the individual in front of him. ‘You may stand down, Burton. The committee recalls Agent Samuel Olsen to the stand please.’
Olsen shared a look with Carter. ‘Wait for it.’
Drake watched Olsen come forward and knew the inquiry had reached its crucial moment. For the first time, his mind switched to the bigger picture, the threat to the UK that was present with each new day. He recalled the mandate and conversation with the Prime Minister as he justified his actions. ‘May I remind you, Agent Olsen, that you are still under oath. Be seated. Now, following on from Agent Burton’s testimony, do you have anything you wish to say?’
Olsen locked his hands together and placed them on the table. ‘I’m under oath, sir, so I’ll speak my mind. I remember the briefing clearly. It was only a week ago. At no time was the possibility of hostages or any scenario linked with that factor ever mentioned. It was never touched upon.’
‘Are you saying Agent Burton just lied under oath?’ asked the female member of the committee.
‘Yes, ma’am, that’s exactly what I’m saying. His report sheets may be time stamped and look authentic, but they are incorrect.’
Drake scribbled down some notes and spoke quickly to the agent he despised with a passion. ‘So noted, Agent Olsen. However, those reports from Agent Burton have been submitted and verified, which begs my next question. Why did you and your team not return and rescue those hostages?’
What’s the point here? Olsen thought to himself. He couldn’t help himself but to do his best to salvage his career though. ‘Several reasons, sir. Firstly, we were outnumbered six to one and secondly, I didn’t know of the existence of the hostages. If you’ll remember, sir, our radios were unable to communicate with Bravo Team. I couldn’t retrieve what I wasn’t aware of.’
‘We have no evidence to prove that your radios malfunctioned, Olsen. The previous testimony from your S.U.C.O. commander states that hostages were a priority.’ He leaned forward and tried to push Olsen further. ‘Does it bother you, the loss of those hostages?’
Olsen felt his blood boil. ‘I cannot worry about a situation I wasn’t—’
Drake overpowered him and read from the documents in front of him. ‘Tomasz Waldoch, thirty-seven years old, leaves behind a wife and two children.’ He found another sheet. ‘Andre Zerj, twenty-three years old, was engaged to marry his girlfriend in April of this year.’ He slammed the paper down on his desk. ‘You abandoned them, Olsen! Both you and Agent Jordan are accountable for the deaths of these innocents! The blood is on the hands of you and your fellow team leader.’ His lifeless dark blue eyes glared at the agent ahead of him. ‘Have you anything to say at this point?’
Olsen merely stared at the wall and knew he was innocent of the atrocities he was being charged with. Part of him was already thinking of his future. ‘No, sir,’ he said calmly. ‘You seem to know all the answers.’ His voice was slow and meaningful.
A long silence lingered until Drake rose from his seat and announced to the others. ‘The committee will now take a short recess to consider our recommendations.’ He led the other two members out of the briefing room and into the nearest side office. He caught sight of the female committee member who looked uncomfortable. ‘Don’t worry, my dear, you don’t have to do anything, you may as well get yourself a drink from the machine around the corner. I’ve already made up my mind on what to say.’
Olsen sat back down next to Carter and caught the glare coming his way from Jordan, who sat in the row in front of them. Despite his new life waiting for him away from MI6, he couldn’t hide a sense of real disappointment at the impending loss of his career. Like it or not, Sam, you were good at this job. ‘You should have told me about those hostages, Alex.’
Jordan merely shrugged his shoulders. ‘It hardly matters now, does it? They were probably moneymen of the Kiprich brothers that didn’t pay up or something. We have to stick together, Sam, otherwise we’ll be up the creek without a p—’
Olsen shook his head in disgust. ‘You’re on your own, Alex, as far as I’m concerned you crucified all of us!’
Jordan turned around and reached for Olsen. ‘Cocky little shit!’
Carter stepped in and restrained Jordan. ‘Get a hold of yourself!’
The commotion instantly died down as the Chief of MI6 walked back into the room and saw the ending of a scuffle. ‘Be seated, please,’ he said to the attendees. ‘Following our short recess, the Inquiry Committee for Operation Reprisal has now reached our final recommendations. All of us have been shocked at the lack of discipline showed by several of our most experienced agents when on assignment. At times, we have felt that they are legalised criminals, instead of the elite strike teams they should be. With these changing times, it is the recommendation of this committee that all S.U.C.O. teams be deactivated immediately. All agents will be reassigned pending another review, with the exception of Agent Jordan and Agent Olsen. As team leaders, it is this committee’s view that the responsibility rests solely with these agents. Both are to be suspended for three months and then reassigned. All committee members feel this is a reasonable recommendation as it still offers these agents the chance to redeem themselves in the future.’ Drake said the words but didn’t mean them. He looked out at the stunned faces and saw that Olsen had got up and was walking to the exit door. ‘That concludes the inquiry. Thank you.’
Drake exchanged a look with the other committee members and left the room. At the lift lobby, he pressed the button and smiled to himself with satisfaction.
Olsen watched from the shadows at the corner of the corridor. The thought of Rachel waiting for him soothed one half of his body but the other half, the man of skill that had dodged death and been trained to perfection, refused to let it go. It’s all been a sick joke. ‘Happy with yourself?’
Drake jumped slightly in surprise and turned around. ‘Olsen.’ He looked irritated and turned around to check where the lift was. ‘Don’t make this any worse for yourself. The decision of the inquiry is final.’
The demons swirled around inside Olsen’s mind as he stepped forward. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done today? You’re going to need the S.U.C.O. teams if you want to have any capability to carry out operations effectively!’
Drake laughed out aloud. ‘Effectively! Removing the likes of you from this service is my priority. You’re reckless and because of that innocent people are dead!’
‘I had no knowledge of those hostages, you know that!’
‘This conversation is over. Make sure you leave all your access cards with security before you leave the building for the last time.’ A smile spread across his face. ‘If you’d like I’d quite happily put in a word with the police or another organisation? I think we both know you’re not cut out for intelligence work.’
‘I’ve been doing that work for eight years. I think my record speaks for itself.’
‘Exactly right, that’s why you’re now out of work. I only wish it had happened a long time ago. I hear you’re going to be getting married soon. Rachel, isn’t it? If I were you, I’d count myself lucky I got away with the murder of innocents and have a quiet life away from here?’ Drake smiled again and looked very pleased with himself.
Olsen couldn’t take any more. He stepped in closer and lifted Drake off from the floor and up against the wall. ‘There will come a day when you’ll need our help, and you’ll gladly get down on your knees and beg. I just hope I’m there to see it.’
Drake struggled but couldn’t free himself. ‘I’ll have you up on charges!’
Olsen’s voice became a deadly whisper. ‘If I had five minutes with a pathetic weasel like you that would be the last thing you’d say.’
A powerful deep voice pierced the moment. ‘Sam…’ There was a pause before the voice spoke again. ‘Let him go. He’s not the enemy and you know it.’
Olsen glanced behind him and saw Thomas Deane. Olsen had to blink twice to be certain, as he had assumed his former partner was still in Oman. Sure enough, the tall, powerful frame of his mentor stood there, wearing his usual dark blue jacket. ‘Do you know what he’s done?’ Olsen’s voice was angry, but it was tinged with sadness as if he knew he was making things worse, but he just couldn’t help himself.
Deane took a step forward and put a hand on the man he regarded as his son. ‘I heard every word. But we can’t control everything, not even here. There are other ways to make a difference. Drake has his own agenda and you have yours.’
‘Don’t defend him.’
‘Never.’ Deane’s eyes burned bright as he held his ground. ‘This isn’t going to achieve anything, you know that. Let him go and come back with me.’ To Oman, he wanted to say, but he forced himself not to.
‘My career, my team, who I am, this man has gone out of his way to take that away.’ Olsen’s eyes looked lost.
A faint smile came to his lips. ‘Unlike me…you’ve always been more than just the job. You’ve built a life away from the agency. The biggest mistake you could ever make would be to throw that away now. Don’t let someone like him take you away from what you were born to do.’
Drake glared at Deane ahead of him. He had never felt so helpless.
Deane placed a hand on Olsen’s arm and spoke in a delicate tone. ‘Let him go…Rachel is waiting for you. I can take you to her. Come on.’
Olsen slowly nodded in agreement and dropped Drake to the floor. He didn’t look back and followed Deane down the corridor.
Drake pushed himself up off the floor and wanted to say something, anything, to re-establish his authority but by the time he had recovered he was all alone in the lift lobby. He dusted down his suit jacket and felt thankful that he had got his way and S.U.C.O. was no more. At least that will cement my position here and I can shape MI6 further.
As Olsen walked along the corridor, a touch of sympathy welled up inside of him as he caught sight of Alex Jordan who sat all alone in briefing room three, with his head in his hands. There is no fiancée waiting for him. Olsen thought about saying something, but he still hadn’t forgiven Jordan for what had happened with the hostages.
Deane studied Olsen as they made their way out of MI6 headquarters. He struggled to decide what to say, with so many words to choose from. ‘Sam. Quitting is a drastic measure. There will always be a place for you in Oman with me.’ As they came to the security checkpoint, he saw a young woman in the distance. ‘For you and Rachel, if that’s what you want.’ He placed his right hand on Olsen’s shoulder. ‘I’d just hate to see you throw it all away and I don’t want to lose you.’
Despite the results of the inquiry, and Olsen’s fears about his future, he couldn’t repress a smile. Ahead of him was Rachel, who stood by the checkpoint, with the Thames nearby and a beautiful blue sky above her. Olsen was worried about his future, there was no doubt about it. The lost at sea feeling he had been expecting had yet to come though and, why would it? With Rachel beside him and Deane, as ever, always there, things could have been so much worse. He turned to face his mentor. ‘You know something, in the last three months I think we’ve learned more about each other than we have in the last twenty years. There’s never any chance you’ll lose me, I’ll always be here, no matter what job I do.’
Deane closed his eyes briefly and grasped Olsen by the scruff of the neck. ‘Contact me if you change your mind.’ He couldn’t deny it, there was a deep sadness within him, knowing that Olsen was leaving MI6 and there was no chance of another operation together. He felt a wave of failure inside of him and he couldn’t push it away.
Olsen gave Deane a hug and walked towards the love of his life. He felt better than he had expected but an uneasy feeling still lingered in the background. He used every ounce of energy inside of him to push it away as he tried to adapt to the future that awaited him.
Jozef heard his boots squelch underneath the sodden grass as he stood near his brother Gyorgy’s coffin in the bleak looking graveyard. The thick drizzle continued to fall as dark, deadly looking clouds loomed overhead. Jozef stood next to Ferec. His dark green lifeless eyes focussed