Chapter 3
1 month later,
Thursday, March 1st 09:50,
MI6 Headquarters, London.
The headquarters of MI6 stood alone on the Albert Embankment. As Olsen approached on foot, he couldn’t miss the familiar cream and sea green colours of the building. With every step he felt that slight twinge of nerves, or was it excitement? Most of the time it felt to Olsen that the building had proved to be the bane of his life more than once.
Situated in Vauxhall, Southwest London, the headquarters of MI6 was in the very heart of London, the capital of the United Kingdom. A short boat trip down the river led to the most iconic parts of the capital such as Tower Bridge, and Big Ben. The beating heart of the country, the Houses of Parliament was just a stone’s throw away. Protecting it from any threat were MI6 and its sister in the Security Services, MI5.
Olsen was deep in thought. His fiancée Rachel came into his mind and the thought of her reminded him of the struggle he’d endured whilst trying to keep his work and personal life separate. Despite the recurring confusion, he knew what the bottom line was. When I’m here, it really feels like I can make a difference, every day brings a new chance of that. The twenty-eight-year-old government agent continued to reassure himself as he walked through the building entrance doors and into an empty Perspex tube. He placed his ID card into the reader and punched in his unique four-digit code. A green light lit up, and the tube swivelled and revealed the lobby. He headed for the lift across the black and white marbled floor.
As he made his way across the vast space, he passed other agents of all ages. Some he barely knew but still acknowledged, others he had practised with in the combat rooms of HQ where different forms of hand-to-hand combat were taught and mastered. His own form of Taekwondo and Sambo had been tirelessly learnt, day after day, in those same rooms all those years ago.
A young agent who had fast been gaining a talented reputation, William Hawk, passed him by. Hawk was a master of the Aikido form of attack and was popular in the ranks with everyone. Olsen smiled back at him and remembered their last training session where he had only just gained the upper hand. No matter who it was, there was always a feeling of togetherness and trust with everyone he saw, from the agents to the teachers and even the administrators, all of whom were vital to the cause. The lift doors hissed to a close and Olsen chose the floor for the Chief of MI6’s office.
His thoughts turned to Operation Concealment. Unfortunately, for the service, there had been no progress made on the identity of the escaped terrorist, despite joining forces with other Western Security Services such as the CIA and the German Security Services, GSG9. None of the captured men had revealed any details on the cell, despite the pressure that had been applied to them.
Olsen hadn’t spoken to Deane since he had been assigned to Oman. As the lift announced the designated floor Olsen started to walk down the corridor and hoped he would be given clarity on his next assignment.
Akira kept his head low as he walked out of Seeb Airport in the capital city of Muscat, Oman. The searing heat and beautiful skyline made him feel more at home than he had felt in dismal London. The last month had been a sequence of carefully planned journeys as he had passed through the borders of several European countries. Oman had been his destination, and he felt relieved to bring his journey to an end. Throughout his travelling he had kept up to date with the carefully planned bomb attacks that were taking place in Moscow, all to destabilise the government, which was crucial to his vision. At that same time his thoughts had turned to the West and its protectors as he wondered how they were handling the increasing danger. It was idle curiosity on Akira’s part. He knew only too well that the Security Services were unstable and on the back foot. It was only a matter of time before they would be wiped out forever.
Outside the airport he walked away from the crowds and turned left into a side alley. He caught sight of the Kiprich brothers in the distance. Two men from Hungary who in the past had proved themselves to be loyal followers and more than capable, if a little reckless at times. Despite their flaws, Akira knew they would be effective and more than competent at disrupting a British Royal visit to Oman. There was much work to be done. Not only for the upcoming attack, but to take his vision one step further and change the face of the world forever. That started with the death of Thomas Deane, and Akira couldn’t wait to see it happen.
Kevin Ramsey had been covering the job of Chief of MI6 for the legendary Richard Elliott for just a few hours. Since the latter’s sudden trip to Europe, the forty-five-year-old second in command had spent every available moment catching up on the latest developments. Ramsey stood up from his chair and ushered in the agent at the door. ‘Our superior is away for the next fortnight. Take a seat, Olsen.’
Sunlight broke through the semi-dark room as it streamed in from two nearby windows. Whereas the rest of the building was modern in its design, almost cold in places, the chief’s office seemed detached from time itself. A large grandfather clock ticked away slowly on one side, with the entire décor a heavy mahogany brown. Bookcases were on either side of the door, both stacked with dusty looking hardbacks. Unlike the rest of the building, no fluorescent lights were hanging from the ceiling. Instead, several quaint looking lamps were dotted around the room. A deep noise filtered through the room as the grandfather clock chimed ten o’clock.
Olsen remembered the low point of the last operation and felt on edge. He focussed his dark brown eyes on his superior and waited.
Ramsey clasped his large hands together and placed both elbows on the desk. ‘Something has come up. I’m assigning you to Operation Safeguard. You’ll be flying out to Oman on Wednesday, heading to Muscat, the nation’s capital.’
Olsen sat motionless in a state of shock. His heart sank like a stone. Oman. The very mention of the place sent a shiver down his spine and made his mouth feel dry. Oman had been the country where his father, Geoff Olsen, had died years before. He had never been there and had no interest in going. ‘Related to the British Royal visit then?’ Olsen had seen details in the press about the event.
‘That’s right. As I’m sure you’re aware, our own Prince David is going to Oman on a three-day goodwill tour, focussing mainly on the capital of Muscat. Naturally, the usual team of security agents will accompany the Prince. However, OMA1, Thomas Deane, will also play a part in offering additional covert support.’
MI6 had agents in virtually every country and were assigned a codename based on the location. OMA1 represented the MI6 agent in Oman.
‘Now Deane was adamant about working on his own, but I don’t agree. I’m sending you to partner him.’ The acting Chief of MI6 saw the furrowed brow of Olsen. ‘Now, obviously this is a sensitive issue. The last time there was a British Royal visit to Oman, we lost an agent. Not just any agent, Olsen, but your father.’ Ramsey shifted in his chair and looked uncomfortable. ‘I won’t force you to take this operation, Sam, but I don’t want to leave Deane alone to carry out the work either. If you decline, I’ll find someone else. It’s not a problem.’
‘I must admit, sir, I wasn’t expecting you to ask me to go to Oman. It’s a bit of a shock.’ Olsen paused and thought about the decision. There was no doubt in his heart, he didn’t want to go to Oman but turning down an operation was not his style. To do so would damage his career, no matter what the circumstance. At the same time, did he not have a duty, no matter what? He felt physically sick as he prepared to reply, knowing all too well what he was committing to. ‘I’ll do it, sir.’ How he was going to handle this operation he didn’t know, but he had a duty to his country, and he was going to carry it out regardless.
‘Very well, I’ll make Operation ESPY, the operation your father was on, available to you. Archives are expecting you. I want you to be professional about this.’ He raised his eyebrows and expected a positive reply.
Olsen had never been able to read the record of Operation ESPY and for a moment his mind drifted.
‘Did you hear me, Olsen?’
‘Yes, sir. This won’t be a problem.’
Ramsey continued. ‘Don’t forget that as a member of the British Royal family is visiting a Middle Eastern country, security will be at its highest.’ A large folder with ‘Operation Safeguard’ written across the front in heavy red type was passed across the desk. His tone changed as he issued direct orders. ‘I want you to work alongside Deane. Travel with the British Royal party and offer additional security. Shadow every move and make sure no threats are allowed to compromise the party. Deane is aware of the operation objective and will shortly be informed of your addition to the operation. Whatever the history, I know I can rely on you both to be professional and effective. Deane is based in Muscat. The details are in the folder.’
Olsen took the folder. ‘I can handle it, sir, you don’t need to concern yourself.’ He turned around to leave.
Ramsey spoke again. ‘There’s one more thing, Olsen. After this operation, I’m assigning you permanently to team S.U.C.O. I want you to lead the team from now on. We were very impressed with your leadership when we seconded you there twice last year. I’ve informed Deane. We feel your partnership has run its course, it has been eight years after all. Deane objected naturally but we’ve made our decision. Once this operation is over, report here and take on team leader duties.’ Ramsey straightened the jacket of his designer suit. ‘As for your current operation, do not deviate from the objective or allow your personal feelings to get in the way.’ The acting chief of the service watched Olsen go, and opened another file from the pile on the desk.
Olsen stumbled out the door and felt overwhelmed at the changes. Team S.U.C.O. was the most elite of its kind at MI6. It was an honour to be assigned its leadership but what of Thomas Deane, the man he regarded as the closest thing he had to a father? The thought of no more operations with Deane troubled him but he knew he was ready to step out of his mentor’s shadow. The feeling faded quickly though as the biggest change ahead of him broke through and lingered in his thoughts, the trip to Oman.
Coming to the end of the corridor, he entered the Archives department. There were two women on duty and the room was one of the largest in the building. Several computer terminals lined the walls, with thousands of old operation files stacked on bookshelves behind a man and a woman who worked as the administrators. He approached the desk and handed a slip of paper to the young woman who smiled at him, but Olsen didn’t notice. He was consumed with all the changes that lay ahead.
‘Agent Olsen?’ asked the other administrator.
‘Yes?’ Olsen replied, nonchalantly.
‘I have an urgent message from an Agent Deane. He has asked you to contact him after your meeting this morning. The message states it’s of utmost urgency that you talk to him as soon as possible. Is there anything I can do?’
Olsen took the large folder for Operation ESPY. ‘Thanks. I’ll deal with it.’ No doubt, Tom wants to convince me to stay on with him as his partner. It can wait. It can definitely wait. Olsen sat down at one of the tables and looked at the operation folder, which was thirteen years old. At first, he didn’t really want to know much of what each piece of paper said, it was such a painful experience. As he turned each page, it struck him that it might be the only time in his life he would ever be allowed to discover what had really happened to his father. Years ago, when Olsen was fifteen, his mother had told him what had happened. Deane had visited the family home to provide more details. Yet, there in the faded pages ahead of him, were the real facts, the gruesome details that led to the death of his father, Geoff Olsen. His eyes began to study each page with intense detail.
Akira sat in the back of an old white Mercedes car. Ahead of him were the Kiprich brothers, Jozef and Gyorgy, who had been watching the busy movement of cars and people in the marketplace. With the dazzling sun and array of people and treasures, the marketplace of Muscat was one of the friendliest and most beautiful in the Middle East, but it was all lost on the three men in the car.
‘I have the men you requested in place. When will we have the information on the Prince’s visit to Oman?’ asked Jozef.
Akira was used to Jozef’s attitude, but that didn’t make it any easier to tolerate. ‘In due course.’
‘You realise MI6 and local security forces will try to stop us?’
A smile spread across Akira’s face. ‘I’m counting on it.’
The car moved through the market but as it came onto the main road, the traffic intensified until it became a crawl.
‘I know a different route to the harbour, Akira,’ Jozef said from the driver’s seat.
Akira had been monitoring his surroundings and keeping a close eye on two individuals that stood behind a jewellery market store, both with mobile phones in their hands.
‘Akira?’
As the traffic eased, and the car moved more freely along the road, Akira saw a black Range Rover move from a side street and take up position behind them in the traffic.
‘The harbour can wait. We seem to have caught someone’s attention.’
Jozef glanced in the mirror and saw the black car. ‘Who would know we are here?’
‘Lose them.’ Akira looked back at the car. ‘Now.’
Jozef accelerated past several cars, but the Range Rover was equal to the task. He indicated right but then swerved left to take a slip road, but try as he might he couldn’t lose the shadow.
On a busy roundabout neither Akira nor the Kiprich brothers noticed a second car that pulled up alongside them and then forced them off the road and onto the pavement.
The Kiprich brothers found their weapons.
‘Do nothing until my say so.’ Akira opened the door and stepped out to the sight of four rifles trained on him. ‘I have no interest in any confrontation.’
One man stepped forward. ‘We have someone that wishes to speak to you. Come with us please.’
The Kiprich brothers stepped out and raised their weapons, but Akira raised his hand to stop them. ‘We will follow you in our car.’
It couldn’t be right, it just couldn’t be! Olsen sat back and stared again at the pages in front of him. His mind flashed back to the moment when his mother had sat him down and told him what had happened, together with his memories of when Deane had visited the family home and told them both that his father had died alone in Oman. Alone! Olsen looked at the operation report page and once again, it stated the unthinkable. Deane had been present at his father’s death and was with him throughout Operation ESPY. Olsen mapped out the operation papers in order and read the statements from Deane. His mentor had been there, but they had split up on his father’s insistence. He found another page that seemed to contradict that fact as Deane had given CPR to his father at the scene.
Olsen was shocked. To be told that Deane and his mother had lied to him for so long left a bad taste. What was already a sensitive issue had become even cloudier. The operation to Oman now seemed like the impossible.