Reprisal in Black Read online

  ‘Okay, let’s have a look around then’, so he steered Rani to the huge Wall Plan of the base with the Catering Corps buildings and perimeter clearly marked. It was big but then the Air Base covered seven square miles and the shed was only a small part of it. Each section of the base that was serviced by the Catering Corps was clearly marked with a red circle. There must have been ten or twelve points and the base was big, very big. You could easily do a hundred miles a day in one of their trucks but it gave you a lot of time to yourself, a lot of time to look and examine. Anything you noticed might come in handy at some later point. Terry then moved onto a more detailed plan of the Catering Corps own facility which was marked out in departments and functions.

  Terry said ‘We’ll start the tour with the maintenance bay, move onto the chiller and freezer operations, then to the provisions and then double back to the office where you’ll see where to punch in.’ Rani shrugged inside and thought I can’t believe he doesn’t realise I’ve see all of this and more over the last few years. Still, it would be wise not to let on. Just concentrate and play the game.

  ‘It’s most impressive, Sir’, said Rani.

  ‘Cut the ‘Sir’ crap, everybody calls me Terry. That’s what I like, okay?’ Rani nodded thinking he might laugh if he said anything.

  When Rani left the base that afternoon, he was a nervous wreck, felt faint and could hardly breathe. Having travelled only about a mile, he pulled off the road, stopped the van, rolled down the window, and vomited out of it. There was so much stress he thought he’d pass out. Wait until he told his brother the good news. It had been a long ten years since they arrived in the United States but everything was coming together. His family would be very pleased at his continued progress in the United States.

  Chapter 7

  Virginia, USA, Spring 2012

  ‘This is an easy par three hole’, said the tall and well-built guy with the movie star smile. He oozed charisma and wore good, designer golfing gear like a professional and was obviously a regular player with a high single figure handicap. He lined up his tee shot, aiming a hundred and thirty yards to the raised green across a small burbling stream. Effortlessly the ball sailed high into the sky and descended in an arc to land about ten feet from the pin.

  The course was the most impressive that Steve Black, the special ops team leader, had ever seen. Beautifully contoured through woods in a special part of Virginia with water hazards in abundance, this golf course was something very special.

  ‘Easy for you to say’, said a smiling Steve Black who’d been invited to play this twosome. However bad at golf you were, you just didn’t refuse this kind of offer. Steve was a pretty poor golfer and his golfing attire ran to a nice pink golf shirt with the Ping logo, his own light fawn Chinos, and a pair of brown, borrowed golf shoes with tassels. He was quite embarrassed by his appearance and inability.

  Steve’s first shot landed straight in the water ditch and sunk without trace. His second shot landed about five yards short of the stream, and miraculously to him, his next shot landed only feet from the pin. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried for a month.

  His golf partner laughed out loud, ‘You’re improving’ and laughed even louder. Steve was not too embarrassed now because he could always rely on the other skills he had on offer which made golf his least priority.

  Steve eventually three putted to finish the hole and as they marked each other’s card, his golf partner said, ‘you know Steve, this nation would be indebted to you if they even had a clue about the nasty, secret and unfortunately very necessary jobs you do for us. I mean you and your very special team, we can’t forget them can we?’ he smiled. The two men had known each other for a few years now. Steve had got to know his golf partner when they became embroiled in a terrorist potential hostage situation in New Orleans not too long after the big bad hurricane had almost drowned the city.

  Steve’s more recent background was clandestine black ops. Completely off the books and funded by the blackest of black budgets. He’d learned his trade as a US Navy Seal and then with a cooperative stint with Britain’s SAS. He’d made many good friends in the UK and still kept in touch. His acknowledged speciality was small team, in and out fast, no prisoners, no fuss, and no discernible trail, only bodies of the bad guys.

  ‘That little job in Iraq you did for us a few years ago was sensational. We got reams of data from that German chemical guy. What was his name again?

  ‘Smerkel’ said Steve.

  ‘Oh yes that’s it. You know we were right all along. We just couldn’t find the damn stuff. United Nations investigators my ass, they were a complete waste of space.’ He took on a faraway look for a fleeting moment. ‘I asked you here to say thanks, not from just me but from us all, not just for that one operation but for all the jobs you’ve done over the last few years. Perhaps when I have a little more time you can take me through some of them. I’d like to understand where we help and where we hinder. It could make a difference one day. Having said that if you ever have a problem at any time you use my special mobile number, okay? Not even my wife has that one’, he laughed again.

  ‘Now let’s have a quick bite to eat, unfortunately I have other things I must do today.’ They ambled silently to the dining room which was about two minutes away and sat down to eat. Both drank mineral water and chose fresh salmon, salad and new potatoes followed by apple pie and cream. The salmon was terrific. Steve hadn’t eaten this well for a while. It was a long time since he’d had the chance to relax for even a few minutes and he was grateful for this rare opportunity to spend a little time with a man he regarded as one of the best and a true friend.

  ‘Thank you for your confidence in us, we believe in what we do and we try to do the right thing’, said Steve. He wished it had sounded a less political response. Perhaps those machinations in Washington DC and area were rubbing off on him. He desperately hoped not.

  ‘I wish I could parade you on TV and bathe you and your team in medals. You are what America needs and if only those old farts on the hill would wake up…’ he paused for a few moments, ‘…still what we have is what we have, and we have to live with it.’

  Steve remained silent for a few seconds but he was burning to make a number of points, ‘I mean no disrespect but that is unacceptable. We have to change their understanding and their attitude. Our great nation has been built by the supreme efforts of all our people over the last few hundred years. Those are the people who worked hard to construct our democracy and protect our nation’, Steve thought hard for a few more moments about how far he dare push this.

  ‘The vast majority of our people work hard, pay their taxes, put their children through school and strive hard to be moral and decent. Through their efforts they generate wealth which helps them live better lives, but some of that wealth is shared around the world and helps other people too. That is ‘The American Way.’ It is enshrined in our Constitution. It is why we are the most powerful and fair nation on earth. We don’t always do the right thing, but we always try to do the right thing. Yeh, sure we’ve screwed up a few times but we’ve tried to stop persecution and the spread of communism and countless American lives have been lost in that struggle. We have to continue the fight or all those brave souls will have died in vain.’

  Steve paused again not wishing to anger or insult his golf partner, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t get many opportunities to speak like this, so on he went, on with a vengeance.

  ‘Your job, and mine, is to protect our people from the lunacy that pervades big areas of the world. We have to protect our people from those who want to destroy democracy; who don’t believe in the freedom of the individual; who kill at will in order to force their evil and despicable ways on everyone else believing by some unhinged doctrine that they are right and everyone else is wrong.

  These are not moral people. They have no right to destroy what we have been building for centuries. You can’t sit round a table and have a rational discuss
ion with them. They want you, me and everyone else in our great nation dead, and they don’t care how they achieve it. They want to impose their inhuman ways on everyone on the planet.’

  Steve looked hard into his golf partner’s eyes which registered surprise if not yet shock and then continued his tirade.

  ‘If we are not more careful, more vigilant and more aggressive, they will succeed and put the world back a thousand years. Think about it, would you like your wife to be kept indoors and only let out in certain circumstances providing she is covered from head to foot? Would you like it if your daughter could not go to school, listen to music, go dancing and even more than that how would you like it if she was forcibly circumcised?

  That is what could happen to countless millions of women around the world, and it will happen if we let it happen. Every person on earth deserves their own national version of ‘The American Way.’ Don’t you think it’s about time the old farts on the hill as you call them were given a wake-up call? Don’t you think it’s time they were asked some pretty direct questions about what they think is acceptable and how far we as a nation should go in protecting the basic human rights of our own people and the rest of the world and take the focus off the methods we’re forced to use because of the ‘old farts’ holier than thou attitude?

  How about you ‘invite’ a few of them to savour the delights of Afghanistan and Pakistan? Let them wander the streets and talk to these eminently reasonable people. Get them to argue that women should be treated as equals and not be robed from head to foot. Get them to argue that girls should go to school and that female circumcision is abhorrent. Christ, they wouldn’t last five minutes and if they did they’d be screaming for someone like me to rescue them and save their sorry asses.’

  Steve paused again, but this time only for a sip of water. He was on a roll.

  ‘Think about it. What happened in Germany less than a hundred years ago, in the 1930s? The unsuspecting and desperate people suffering in a mighty economic depression were conned and hoodwinked by a bunch of Nazi extremists and when they realised what was happening it was too late. The lunatics were in power, wanting to fight the world and push their own agenda of ethnic cleansing. How many Americans died in the resulting conflict? How many Jews died in the resulting Holocaust? Did you know that over sixty-three million people died in that conflict worldwide with nearly a million Americans and Brits in that total. How many times do we have to suffer the same lesson?’

  Steve paused for a moment again, concerned that he may have gone a little too far, but then hardened his resolve and went on the attack again, this time with no holds barred.

  ‘We make it too easy for people to ignore the plain truth about what’s happening today. It is not the ordinary peoples of the world who cause the problems, it is the extremists that push and force their will on the weakness of others and we need to stop them, dead, preferably.

  You need to stop pussyfooting around and help this great country of ours and all of our people understand and appreciate that our very way of life is under serious threat from these lunatics. It’s time you told our people the truth. It’s time you told them that their cosy way of life is under immense threat. It’s time you stopped lying to them about how secure we are. We need every true American to be more vigilant, keep their eyes and ears open and for them to realise that their security is as much their responsibility as it is ours.

  In the meantime I’ll just carry on killing as many of the bastards as I can.’

  Steve paused for a few seconds staring into the somewhat shocked and speechless face of his golf partner.

  ‘I’m sorry if what I’ve said has offended you but I’ve been there and bought the tee shirt. I know what I’m talking about and I know just how real the threat is.

  Would you like to consider your own position at the moment? How safe are you? How real do you think the threat against you is at this very moment? How many terrorist cells are operating here in the US just waiting for an opportunity to hit you?

  I absolutely guarantee you that there are serious plots in action at this very moment and it would take only one slip up by our vast network of security forces to let one of them succeed. Think about that as you go to sleep tonight.’

  The shocked look on Steve’s golf partner’s face remained for a few seconds longer then he leaned over the table and shook Steve by the hand, ‘Thanks Steve, thanks for your honesty and directness. You have given me a lot to think about and I promise you that is what I will do’, and was about to say something else when he was approached by one of his staff who said, ‘Mr President we have to go, you are already late for your meeting with the Russian delegation.

  President Walker rose from the table, smiled and shrugged at Steve and walked from the dining room towards Marine One which was ready and waiting. On his way out he turned back to Steve and said, ‘Thanks again, there are not many people who’d dare to speak to me like that but you believe every word you’ve spoken and I really do appreciate your directness. Some of what you’ve said is very hard to swallow but I promise you I will think hard on it.

  The boys will get you back to DC or wherever you want to go. Whatever resources you need are always at your disposal, and I’ll call you shortly about your concerns’, and with that he was gone.

  Steve felt very proud. Not many people got invited to Camp David to play golf, particularly when they played as badly as he did. He smiled to himself. He would enjoy telling the rest of the team about this particular experience. He also felt a little guilty that he’d been so blunt but it was time something was said. The president was basically one of the good guys and Steve was sure he’d got the unpleasant message across.

  Now it was time he got organised and made his way to Chicago where he had a private job to do. After that he would be on his way back to Spain to the team’s special operations base.

  The president was as good as his word. The Lear jet he’d commandeered for Steve was soon approaching Chicago O’Hare airport with about twenty minutes to go before landing on a secondary runway. No point mixing it with a herd of Jumbo’s.

  The Lear jet touched down at Chicago O’Hare Airport and taxied to the secure area at the northern end. No customs, no immigration, no security. Steve went down the steps and got straight into an older mid-range, grey and innocuous SUV already packed with the equipment he required. You didn’t go where he was going in a big black wagon with the CIA logo emblazoned on it. He’d return it when he’d done.

  Before he set off he made a quick call to Janice Nicholls who lived on the west side of Chicago in a small rented apartment in a not too pleasant neighbourhood. She was the partner of one of his navy buddies, Chuck McQuiggan, who had been killed in a fire-fight in Angola where he was working as a mercenary after being sacked by the United States Navy. It would have been a political decision and not a military one to sack Chuck. Steve thought it was one of the items he’d raise with the president if that chance ever arose.

  It was never really clear what had really happened to discharge Chuck, but it was more than likely a case of prisoner abuse on one of his tours. Steve appreciated more than most how difficult it was to control your temper when you had to deal with the aftermath of some of the atrocities committed by the bad guys.

  Unfortunately despite Chuck and Janice living together for several years they had never married and she’d had a really hard time bringing up their two small children as there were no special benefits she was entitled to. The money that Chuck should have been paid for his mercenary duties never materialised which made matters that much worse.

  In a fit of desperation she had borrowed money from the wrong people who then made it their business to harass her and the kids. Eventually they threatened to kill her and the kids if she couldn’t raise the money. The five hundred dollars she originally borrowed was now five thousand and that was in six months. She had no way of paying the five hundred never mind the rest. She’d contacted Steve as a last resort having had a real st
ruggle to swallow that much pride.

  He was most concerned when she briefly explained the situation and felt quite guilty for not keeping in touch particularly as he was godfather to the oldest child, Chuck Jnr. He could have simply wired the money. It would have been a trifling amount to take from his share of the team’s stash. But Steve was angry. Angry that decent hard working people could easily fall prey to this kind of loan shark scum. He was angry that the system had let down the ‘widow’ of a decorated war hero just because she didn’t get a piece of paper. No, he needed to set the record straight. Better to sort them out once and for all and then give Janice five thousand dollars to ease her way into the future. That might make him feel a little better. It would certainly help her and the kids more that way.

  Chapter 8

  Chicago, Spring 2012

  Steve and Janice had a brief phone chat with Steve saying he’d meet her the following morning at ten o’clock. He’d call her a few minutes before then to establish a specific location after he’d surveyed the area. He needed to make sure she was not being followed or him for that matter. With that he drove to the Hotel Lima in Humboldt Park in Chicago and checked in under a false name with credit card to match. It was typical of the European style two star places he’d stayed in a dozen times. Nothing matched, even the lounge furniture. The shower head would be hanging by a thread and the bed would be lumpy. But it was cheap, innocuous and invisible. The only Passport required was enough cash for the room.

  He’d asked for an end of corridor room overlooking the main street above the hotel entrance. Steve liked to check the comings and goings outside, and if anyone came as far down the corridor as his room was, he knew it was either room service or trouble.