I looked at Hans
“Did you know about this?”
“I knew a little, but until now I did not know that it was them who had taken your father, nor did I know that Marcus Brown junior, existed or that he was involved in it.”
I looked at ‘The Suit’.
“When did you know, they were behind my father’s Kidnapping?”
“About ten minutes ago when you brought these men here. But that is a positive thing.”
“How in the name of fuck is that a positive thing?” I was really starting to get pissed off with SIS.
“Because we know who has him, and we know where he is. We also now have a fairly good idea where they are holding their other hostages. Until now we had no idea of this. They are all probably being held on that container ship. We have tracked it back using satellite imaging and it is being used as a mobile jail for their hostages.”
“Hans, you oversee Iceland’s Defence Force. Can you not just get your version of the SAS to go and raid it?”
“Andy, it would be nice if it were that simple. But apart from political backlash I suspect that at the first sign of a raid they would simply blow up the ship with everybody on board.”
“Mr McPhee this is a delicate matter and as such we have to handle it with kid gloves. I doubt that the GRH, know that you that are holding Marcus Brown junior and his bodyguard yet, or that he has even been captured. This plays into our favour. We can put the blame on another Neo-Nazi group and start some infighting. I am open to ideas on how we can release all the hostages. Remember that they will have moles within most agencies. The FBI and CIA have found them inside their ranks. We should keep this to ourselves for now.”
“Let me Guess SIS wants it to be compartmentalised?”
“In a word Mr McPhee Yes”
“What are we to do with the men we snatched?”
“Mr McPhee, I will find a location to for you to keep them and I will send you one of my own men to help with their debriefing.”
Abdalla who had said nothing up to this point spoke up
“By debriefing you mean torture?”
“Mr Mohamed the British Government, do not torture anyone.”
“Mr Suit, so what does debriefing mean?”
“As I have said I will be sending a specialist to assist you”
I looked at all the others and they all shook their heads.
“If it’s all right with you? We will conduct our own debriefing and then report back to you. You can have the grunt, who destroyed our homes and we will take Marcus and his bodyguard”
“Very well”
“We also require some more transport”
“Yes, Yes, of course. I understand you can’t all fit into my BMW. I have arranged transport for you. They are in the car park. Please be careful with them, as they are on loan from the Royal Protection Squad. You can take the two black Range Rovers in the car park. I had them sent here. after you borrowed my BMW” He pressed a button on the desk and a young woman came in.
“Can you get Mr McPhee the keys to the Range Rovers please?”
She left and returned a few moments later, then gave me two sets of keys and then she left.
“OK so now what?”
“Now you get your father back and anyone else you can. Your official passports have all been cancelled and you no longer exist on paper again. Because if things go wrong we need the ability to deny that you are British or that you work for any agency. However I am aware that you have already equipped yourself with other identities.”
“Really and how do you know that?”
“Because Mr McPhee if I had done and been involved in the things that you have and also had your financial resources, then it is what I would have done.”
“You bastard you sucked us back in again, to do your dirty work.” Lachie said as he stood up.
“We did not do that Mr Henderson. Yes, it was because of things that have happened previously. But it was you who contacted me, for help on this occasion.” ‘The Suit’ replied
“Come on Let’s go Andy. We will sort it.”
“What about our prisoners?”
The suit slid the folder across the desk to me
“Take that and your prisoners with you when you leave. I will be in touch soon. By the way can I have my car keys back?”
“No” Lachie said
“No? What? I don’t understand.”
“You asked for your keys back, I said no, which part is causing you trouble?” I loved it when Lachie was on a roll. ‘The Suit’ gave a quizzical look to Lachie.
“You can’t have your keys back because the police have them”
“Why?”
“Because the Manchester Police, probably have your car in a pound.”
“Why do they have my car?”
“Because it was used in criminal activity”
“By whom?”
“Classified and Compartmentalised” Lachie really knew how to turn the screw He turned and walked out of the room.
‘The Suit’ did not look happy as we left.
ACT 17
We left all left Brora, complete with our two prisoners. We had the two black Range Rovers, along with the UPS Parcel Van, which held the prisoners in the back all trussed up. The drive back to Old Kinbrace was uneventful. I had tuned it to Moray Firth Radio. They were playing music of the Inverness Fiddle Society. The music reminded me of my time as a boy going to the dances. For the greater part dances were held in ‘Dry’ Village halls and church halls. Most of these did not have a license to sell alcohol. The lads and some of the young lassies would carry what was known locally as a ‘Flattie’ or a ‘Hippie’. This would be carried in a man’s inside jacket pocket, or even the hip pocket of their trousers. The ladies would carry it in their handbags. A ‘Flattie’ was what a Half bottle of spirits was referred too, and a ‘Hippie’ referred to a Hip Flask. These would be drunk from either in the toilets of the hall, or outside the halls, so as not to cause problems with the village councils. I tapped my fingers on the wheel of the Range Rover I was driving. None of us had any trust in the SIS. They in my opinion, were just using us as an unofficial private army. We never wanted the fight that we found ourselves in. The only thing that I cared about was getting my father back. I didn’t give a shit about politics of any country let alone who would have jurisdiction. In my own mind these Neo-Nazi groups were mindless morons most of who were just folks that had lost their way in society. It was the people that ran the groups that were preying on mostly disaffected and for the greater part unemployed youth. They were told, that all the evils of the world, was the fault of immigrants or for that matter any person who did not fit into the White Anglo Saxon Peoples or WASPS as they were also known. Previously it had meant White Anglo Saxon Protestants. Though now very few of these Neo-Nazis ever went to a Protestant church, or any other religious order. The foot-soldiers were the sheep that would simply follow whatever propaganda was indoctrinated into them. They would be the canon-fodder in any of the conflicts. These people would never become rich and have all the fancy trappings of life that their leaders would possess. The Marcus Browns of this world and their equivalents in just about every country of the world. Crime and criminality is where their finances came from and it was that very thing that I intended to be their downfall. I already had a plan formulating in my mind. We arrived back and drove to the back of my studio. The two prisoners that we had were still naked but were now blindfolded.
“Hans, you hacked into the OSMA website before and got a list of their major customers. Can you cross refer that to anyone who seems to have any links to these GRH Neo-Nazis. Jane if you could help him with that please?”
“I’m on it” Hans replied, and Jane sat down at another keyboard next to him.
“I would ask that all our civilians would just be patient with us. Please just relax in the lounge area.” Sandy, Dusty, Rosemary, Stuart and Mr Henderson left us in what was now our operations room.
“Lachie and Abdalla, I think we should go and empty the Van and bring in the cash and weapons, then ‘Debrief’ our guests”
This is what we did, we tied them up with the other man we already had in the shower block.
We went down the narrow corridor to the shower rooms where the three naked men stood against the cold brushed steel wall. The tall athletic man, who we took with Marcus, stood without shivering, in an almost defiant pose.
I turned all the showers on to cold and let them run for a good five minutes. First reason was our previous long-term guest had once again soiled my floor and secondly, I wanted to lower their body temperatures. A cold man will stand up less well to interrogation than someone who is warm.
“I should tell all of you that normally I don’t hold with torture. I have seen it used in the recent past to great effect. But you have taken my father and I want him back, so I will do whatever it takes, to make that happen. My friends here are experts at getting information out of people. You can save yourselves a lot of pain and anguish by answering my questions honestly now, or you can answer them honestly later when you are suffering. Marcus, you and your friend are here because Mr Watts talked. He may get to go back to his family in one piece albeit slightly scared. The question you should be asking now, is do you want to go home in one piece?”
Lachie started to soften the big man up with a few big punches to the man’s kidneys followed by some serious blows to his solar plexus. The man took the beating without even so much as a groan or a scream.
Abdalla joined us in the shower room
“What has he said Mr Andy?”
“Not a word” I replied
“Do you want me to start asking him questions Mr Andy?”
“Lachie Abdalla wants to offer his help.”
“You got it Abdalla. He’s all yours.”
“Mr Lachie can you fetch the fat man and sit him opposite this big man?”
Lachie went and got Marcus and put a chair down for him and then sat Marcus Brown junior, down facing his friend.
“Hello again gentlemen just in case you have forgotten who I am, my name is Abdalla Mohamed. We met briefly at my shooting range at CDE Porton. I am going to ask you questions and depending on how you answer those questions will depend on how much pain the other one will suffer. I do not enjoy hurting any person, but I have learned that sometimes it is the only way. Mr Marcus what is your friend’s name?”
Marcus said nothing and just stared at the floor in front of him. Abdalla backhanded the other man in the mouth and blood trickled down his lips. Abdalla then he turned to the man he had just struck and then asked him
“What is your name?” he got no reply so backhanded Marcus in the face breaking his nose and knocking him to the floor. Lachie and I righted him and his chair.
When Abdalla spoke next, it was with sincerity and menace. I had never seen Abdalla like this, his normal way was to act in a caring manner. Yes, he had killed people in fire fights or battle. What he did next was to shock me even more than his action of slicing up the man from Manchester. Abdalla took out his KaBar knife. Then he went back to the big man and spoke to him.
“Many faiths of the world believe in circumcising males at various ages. I can see that neither of you is of Jewish or Islamic faith, as I am sure both of you know, that all young men must be circumcised, before being fully accepted into their faith. In Africa this is done not so much as part of any faith but as a ritual of entering manhood. This is completed at ages ranging between 8 years old and 20 years old. The surgery if you can call it that is carried out by a shaman or witch doctor. Or by a Rabbi or the Imam obviously depending on the religious belief. He will have a knife, that he has used for hundreds and sometimes thousands of these operations. It will not be a sterile knife and it is not always sharp, in fact some Shaman have been known to use their thumbnail. I let you know this because you are both now men and are both uncircumcised. I told you at the start that I would hurt the other person if the one I asked a question of lied to me, or refused to answer my questions. Once more time I will ask you your name and if you fail to answer I will turn Mr Marcus into a Jewish boy. Mr Andy do you have some surgical gloves in your medical kit?”
“Yes, I do Abdalla” I replied as I passed a pair to him. And he put them on. Then he took hold of Marcus’s penis and placed the blade of the KaBar knife against it causing a tiny drop of blood to appear..
“One last time I will ask you your name? If you do not answer, I perform surgery on your boss, Marcus Brown.”
“For fucks sake tell him John” screamed Marcus
“My name is John Wilder and I am an employee of Mr Brown” the big man replied.
“There you go that was easy Marcus, now what is this mark on your neck?” I asked while I pointed to the three-legged tattoo under his Adam’s apple.
“If you had any form of education then you would know it’s a Triskelion. You probably need me to translate the tattoos around my neck you cretin.”
“Actually, Marcus my Latin is quite good. Sanguis et Honor is Blood and Honour. Potentia Albus I believe translates as White Power. Neque Deditionem means No Surrender. But are you not a bit old for the 18 tattoo which I assume refers to, Combat 18 the militia wing to the BNP. What I don’t get is why would a Neo-Nazi group wage war here in the UK?”
“My father would have used the bacteriological agent that you destroyed, to cleanse the world of Liberal people like you who would allow our Saxon bloodline to be watered down by the blood of apes.”
“Marcus, you are not as smart as your father nor do I believe that he was involved in some Neo-Nazi plot. He was in it for the money. So, my next question to you is, who are you working for?”
“I work for the future of the white man.”
“I watched the house where you sold guns from, and when we raided your homes I found drugs in both. So, you sell drugs to all races.”
That reply seemed to have confused Marcus. I continued the same line
“You sell to Blacks?”
“So, what it does not matter if they die from a drugs overdose? It is just one less nigger to live off the back of the white man.”
“I see, but you also sell the same drugs to White Anglo Saxon People.”
“What about it?”
“Well don’t you want to protect all the whites?”
“We need clean white blood not drug addicts.”
“You make no sense Marcus. You kill black and white and, yet you claim to love white and hate black. Which is it?”
“Abdalla can you go with Hans and tie these two up to a tree in the forest. Keep them Isolated from each other please”
Abdalla and Hans took the two prisoners away.
“Lachie, it makes no sense. If it was just about Neo-Nazi, then why target us. Why kill whites? Why sell to blacks? I suspect that Mr Marcus Brown junior, is just a very small cog in something much, much bigger. Why else would SIS take a step back and allow us to run with it?”
“You know me Andy I am just a Rock Ape from the Highlands of Scotland. I just do as I am told and don’t ask questions.”
“Helpful Lachie”
“What if SIS just wants to keep their hands clean?” Jane asked
“Go on?”
“I have just read this file that ‘The Suit’ gave to you. Well there are several new countries from the ex-soviet bloc. Some of these have very nationalistic opinions. These countries are being supported by the USA. Well when I say the USA, I actually mean the CIA. It would not be the first time that they have got their hands dirty with drugs and guns. If this did turn out to be the case, then SIS would not want the UK to be seen to be involved in any way shape or form. They would never want it to come back and bite them on the arse. So none of their funding and equipment could be seen to flow towards it, also they could never publicly challenge the CIA, because that would be seen as the UK attacking the US Government.”
“OK but how would Marcus, know about us? I know we killed his dad. But it was officially declared as an accident. The only people that knew that we did it was The Suit and of course ourselves. We need to have a chat with the suit. Jane can you get hold of him?”
“OK Andy I am on it now.”
I turned to Lachie
“What do we do with those two guys we have? We can’t keep them here and we can’t let them go.”
“Andy, you are asking the wrong guy here. Try asking Hans when he gets back.”
“Lachie it’s just like what happened to us six months ago.”
“I am not sure I follow you Andy?”
“What I mean is that it’s like we are being given a false trail of breadcrumbs. I just can’t get my head around, Neo-Nazis in the UK having the sort of money that these guys seem to have. Also looking at Marcus Brown junior he just does not strike me as the sort of person who has the balls to be a KKK Grand Master or whatever they call themselves when they put the duvet cover on without the stuffing. Just too many what ifs, and could be scenarios and I don’t fucking like any of it. From what I have seen the only guy that is triple K material is the one Abdalla had a chat with in Manchester.”
Hans joined us in the bunker and we sat around, as the file that SIS had given to me, was passed around for each of us to read independently. When it arrived back to me, I closed it and looked at my fellow teammates.
ACT 18
“So, what is the consensus of opinion then?”
“Mr Andy from the way it reads to me, I would say that the CIA are trying to cover way too many things by pointing the finger at small fish in the big ocean.”
“Go on Abdalla?”
“Well they talk about the KKK and the Arian Nation. These are groups that we have all heard about. And they name some of the people who are leaders or in some cases ex leaders of them. But always lay the blame for failures at other organisations doors.”
“I agree Abdalla. Anyone else got anything they wish to throw into the mixing pot?”
“Andy. The FBI file enclosed in this bundle is the only document that seems to be connecting the dots within the USA. The FBI though, cannot work outside the USA which is where the CIA is supposed to work. On a more global basis, it seems to show very little. SIS has information linking funds coming from Russian Oligarchs, but they can’t say where the funds went.”
“What do they have on Marcus Brown junior? Is he really the son of The Marcus Brown?”
“All the files to do with SIS personnel has be redacted, so it is just a series of blacked out text.”
“We need “The Suit” to join the dots”
“OK Jane I am going to let you run with that. In the meantime, Hans is there any way that you could access the files of the CIA and the FBI. You, I know have a special working relationship with some of the CIA people based in your Country.”
“I will try Andy, but they tend to be very tight lipped about their own projects and missions. The FBI files will be a lot easier than you would imagine. I know a young man in Iceland who we have used before. We caught him when he was hacking into my own server. Previously he was part of a hacking group called Anonymous. I will trade him some ex-CIA toys and he will get any info they have. Then he will send it to an encrypted server that we can have access to.”
“Thanks Hans. Lachie can you come with me I need to talk with Stuart and see if he will let us use his fishing boat.”
“What about Marcus and John?”
“They will be OK where they are for now”
Lachie and I went to join our families and friends in the lounge area of the bunker. They all stood up as we entered and fired questions at us about my father and our current situation.
“If you will all just bear with me I will outline what is happening.
We have once again been sucked into something that is not entirely of our own making. SIS is somehow mixed up in this. But it has more to do with the son of Marcus Brown. He has had my father kidnapped, probably for personal reasons. That said there is a much bigger problem with more insidious reasons behind it. We believe that a Neo-Nazi group has been kidnapping relatives of either influential or rich people. They seem to be a multinational organisation. We know that my father was taken from here. Then he was then put on a trawler, in Scrabster and then after that, he was transferred to a container ship, near the coast of the Island of Unst. After this, the ship sailed to Iceland. This is where it is currently anchored. We have reason to believe that these people who have taken my father, are using this ship as some form of floating prison. So now you know pretty much everything that I know.”
“How can we help you?” Rosemary asked while holding her husband’s hand.
“You know my boat is there any time you wish to use it” Stuart added.
Stuart had grown up a lot over the last few months, from being a cheeky deck hand on the original Catherine May to now being the skipper of the newer and much bigger replacement vessel. He still liked a bit of a joke, but he had come to realise that we had to live a life that was not just fun but fulfilling. He had responsibilities now Rosemary was his wife now and they were planning children.
“I was hoping you would say that Stu, I have a feeling a lot of what we will be doing will require your help.”
“Wherever he goes I go too” Sandy said and continued “It might be Stu’s boat, but it’s still registered in my name so technically you will need me on board if we leave the UK’s waters.
“Where my daughter Jane goes, then I go too” Dusty said.
“Andy your dad and I grew old together and I will be dammed if I will stand by idly” said Mr Henderson
“Thank you all for your support. But like we did before, I may need to split us up into teams for us to cover a greater area. It means a lot to me, that you still want to stand and fight with us for what is right and not to mention that for me it’s personal. How soon before you can be fully fuelled and ready to sail Stu?”
“Depends on how long a sea trip you have in mind?”
“Let’s suppose most of us on board and for up to four weeks Stu.”
“The fuel is not a problem Andy, getting the food and loading it I suppose an afternoon should do it. What equipment would you be wanting to take on board?”
“Most of it Stu, I am sure you remember how much that was last time?”
“OK so you might be wanting, one of the boats holds. Do you have an RIB?”
“Not yet Sandy.”
“Not a problem Andy I think I might have something a bit better than an RIB, So I will load them up. When do you want me to go?”
“Stu, you don’t go from here without at least TWO of us and by two of us, I mean armed. Things are that dangerous. We have transport that can get all of us out of here and up to Scrabster. Get some food from the Kitchen while Lachie and I sort things out.”
Lachie and walked back through to the communications room where Hans and Jane were both typing away on keyboards. Abdalla had just come back inside after walking the dogs, as well as checking on the two prisoners.
“Jane, can you get ‘The Suit’ on the secure Sat Phone and when you get him, can you put it on loud speaker?”
“Will do” she replied and smiled.
I think Jane still liked the idea of all this spy shit. Personally, I fucking hated it. I just wanted a nice quiet life. Making music in the studio and walking the hills. I would be quite happy for others to go out and save the world. We had all known, that once you were involved with SIS, you never really were out of SIS. The SIS or Secret Intelligence Service of the UK, were the umbrella for MI5 and MI6 along with quite a few other sections that did not officially exist including the Black Door Ops section. I had often dreamed about would Jane and I have children and they could grow up in the wilds of the Scottish countryside as I had done. Or would I be placing children in danger by just being a parent to them. Jane and I had not talked babies yet. We had sex, hell we had lots of sex. Sometimes it was romantic lovemaking other times it was like a throwback to the first time we had fucked. My thoughts were interrupted
“Andy “The Suit” is holding for you”
“Hello”
“Mr McPhee, what is it that is so important, that it can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”
“Everything we do for you, falls into that category. I want the two men that we have, placed into your care sent to a secure location. By the way you are on speaker with all of Team Seven. We have no secrets between us. We find that is the best way to stay alive.”
“By Team Seven are you referring to those of you who were military or are you including the civilians that you travel with?”
“At the moment the only people in this room are Military or Ex Military. Not that it would make any difference to us, as we all know how to keep secrets at this end.”
“When you are finished point scoring Mr McPhee. What exactly do you want?”
“I told you. I want the two Neo-Nazis that we have debriefed, returned to your holding.”
“Mr McPhee, I told you before we do not have the facilities here at Brora. Would Lossiemouth do instead?”
“Not remote enough and far too many people who may ask questions. What about one of your remote Island bases?”
“Where do you have in mind?”
“Saxa Vord, the disused R10 building.
“How do you know about the R10 bunker at Saxa Vord.”
“If you had bothered to read my military records before you threw them in the bin. RAF Saxa Vord was where I first was given my Red Seal security clearance.”
“Then you will know that it is being run by a smaller staff since going digital.”
“Perfect so I will arrange for these two men to be taken to Saxa Vord and you will arrange for their custody there but that if I require access to them that can also be arranged.”
“Very well Mr McPhee is there anything else?”
“I also require a Helicopter”
“Really? Why does this not surprise me? What sort and where do you want it?”
“Well something big enough for at least 12 people and something that would not stand out in the Ex-Soviet block, countries.” I looked at Hans and he wrote down on a piece of paper which he handed to me
“We would like a Russian HIND Mi24”
“Mr McPhee, I think you overestimate my abilities to obtain military hardware.”
“Sir if you want Team Seven, to fix this thing, then you must realise it’s going to not only be expensive but difficult. I am sure using some shell corporation or other, that you will be able to do this easily enough. We are not asking for cash we have relieved Mr Brown junior of his. We do require extra ammunition for our one AS50 that I still have. And we will require whatever military hardware that the Mi24 uses.”
“Are you sure you don’t want my blood Mr McPhee?”
“You are welcome to come along”
Hans waved at me and wrote something on a piece of paper then passed it to me
“We would also like a pair of AS VAL rifles complete with mags and ammunition”
“We don’t have any of those”
Hans spoke up
“Sir Phillip, I know that several, AS VAL’s. They were recovered by a SAS Team working in the Helmand province of Afghanistan and are still held at their Hereford Armoury. Iceland and the IDF would be grateful for your co-operation”
“Very well Mr Colonel Gunnerson I will supply the items you have requested. Mr McPhee, you know there can be no inference that the SIS, are in any way involved.”
I looked around the room and no one spoke. So, I guessed that that would do for now.
“That’s all from now, we will be in contact.”
“Very well I will make the arrangements.”
Jane disconnected the Sat Phone. RAF Saxa Vord was a small but important radar spy station, located on the Island of Unst. It was at the Northern end of the Shetland Isles. I remembered its motto being ‘Praemoneo de Periculis’ or in English ‘Forewarn of Danger’. Quite an apt motto as th