ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold (64 page)

‘That was the deputy Prime Minister on the phone, none of the teams he’s put together has managed to find a treaty with the Geneva Convention attached.  So far, we are in the clear.  It was so obvious I just don’t understand how we could have missed it.’

‘I wouldn't beat yourself to death over it Sir; it was something we’ve all been brought up to believe in.  It’s always been there in one form or another or included in one or all of the peacekeeping treaties.’

‘How did you discover it?’

‘When the unit was first formed I asked Mr. D’Ord if it was contrary to the rules of the Geneva Convention.’

‘That’s right Sir and I found nothing to stop us.’

I nodded.  ‘When I arrived home I decided to get a copy for myself just to make sure, sorry.’

Mr. D’Ord shook his head, ‘no, no don’t be I would have done the same.’

‘Well anyway, I also wanted to find out where we’d signed up to it and when, but I couldn’t find anything and that intrigued me.  So I put on a search programme and scanned every database in the country and especially the political archives in Edinburgh.  When I still couldn’t find anything, I searched the political libraries in England.  The only connection I could find to the Geneva Convention was the United Kingdom Defence Force Treaty.  So I checked that and found all our obligations to the Geneva Convention ended with it.’

‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’  Mr Grey asked.

‘What for, it was my fight.’

‘If you had said something a fortnight ago, I could have prevented all this.’

‘Nah, that would just have given them time to find something else to get us with.  Besides, I just wanted to see the looks on their faces when I slapped them between the eyes with it.  Anyway there’s always the chance they’ll still find something I missed.’

However, they didn’t, a week later, I was having dinner with Mr. Grey once more, and he was still going on about it.  ‘I mean if it was so obvious, how on earth we never saw it, I’ll never know, it’s put most of the European Community in quite a tizz.’  I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.  ‘By the way I had a look at those reports you sent across with Mr. D’Ord do you think you could do both tasks?’

‘I would think so.’

‘Obviously the casualty evacuation side shall take precedence.  Are you ready for your big day tomorrow?’

‘Aye and wee any luck I’ll get out ó this gilded cage.’

‘Umm, I was wondering if you could try and stretch it out a little, another week say.’

‘Och, why?’  I groaned.

‘Call it a small contribution to the war effort.’

‘Alright, I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.’

‘Trying is good enough.  Oh, by the way I did like the way you gave each member of the Committee a single question each.’

‘Ye liked that did ye?’

‘Yes you seemed to have them firmly under control.’

*

I insisted on hearing the questions first.  Thank God. 

I turned to the German member of the Committee.  ‘To answer your question sir, the decision to go into the area was taken in part by myself, General Morris, Colonel Tom Hall- Commander of the Osprey, the pilots and our surgeon David Whitton.  I would like to point out however I planned our incursion into the area.  The reason the decision was taken to enter the area is simple men were dying.  By the time we reached Osprey, three had already died needlessly from their wounds.  One of them an American.’

‘Are you sure they would not have died?’

‘As sure as we can be.  Our surgeon is one of the best our country has to offer.  He assured me in no uncertain terms all three could have survived had we not been delayed with our equipment.’

‘Do you trust this man?’

‘With my life Sir.’

‘Thank you.’

There was a long silence.  ‘Aren’t you going to answer any more questions lieutenant?’

‘No.’

‘Do you now refuse to answer questions put to you by this committee?’

‘Not at all, I will answer any questions I don’t regard as stupid or inspired by American propaganda.’

‘Do you think the American Government is trying to deceive everyone?’

‘I believe the American Government has concealed itself behind a bodyguard of lies and that many Europeans, maybe, wisely so, are frightened to question them.  Take the question by, I think it was the gentleman in the red tie there.’

The man I pointed out shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  ‘I believe you asked if our news reports were all falsified and stage-managed and that there had been no communications with the USS Rockwell at all and we had attacked without provocation.  If you had bothered to talk to your own military and Governmental intelligence agencies, instead of listening to CNN news, you would never have needed to ask that question.  I am quite sure they will have all the evidence to prove our claims that you will ever need.  I can also make available the medical records of the wounded and dead for inspection by any medical examiner of this committee’s choice.’

‘We would be grateful for any such assistance Lt Murison, thank you.  I hereby adjourn this meeting until further notice.’  The leader banged a gavel.

It took them a fortnight to reconvene, much to Mr. Grey’s delight, but by that time the hearing had taken a completely different bent.  The questions were perfunctory to say the least.  I learnt why later when I was invited to join them for tea and sandwiches.  It seemed many of their own armed forces were keen on forming their own version of the ACV’s and a formal request had been put forward from the committee on behalf of all of the countries belonging to the Geneva Convention except America.

So for the next fortnight I found myself giving lectures to selected Members of their armed forces and surgeons, but at least I wasn’t alone.  Davie Whitton, Buff, Abie and Gigs were flown over to help and we had a whale of a time.  A couple of Americans even sat in on one of our lectures as guests of the Belgians.  One of them was a top army surgeon who’d come to investigate claims made by some of his men who were on Osprey.

He had a list as long as your arm of things he wanted to see done with the X-Ray machine.  Then of course came the inevitable question, where could he purchase some.  I ended up in a room alone with Davie Whitton and for over an hour where we proceeded to shout and bawl at one another.  In the end, Davie won the argument, which wasn’t unusual considering he knew exactly what strings to pull and was an expert at fucking with my head.

At the end of the fortnight, we were challenged to a race.  I was asked to choose the course and distance.  I chose a ten-mile course over hilly terrain which caused more than a few objections until I pointed out I only had half my men and all our operational equipment to carry, while they only had a stretcher and a full team to carry it.

There were twelve teams arrayed against us and I’m sure more than one American Special Forces man secreted throughout their ranks.  I had insisted on a mile run up to collect the patient to give every ones muscles a chance to warm up properly.

The other teams all raced off and we were last to the pickup point, but within a mile of the race proper, we had picked off the back markers.  Our patient crowed delightedly in French as we passed each team.  Three miles out, we had passed the lot finishing the race a good hour before our nearest rivals.  That they were able to complete the course at all was testament to their fitness and stamina, but they were all minced.  Davie suddenly found himself with a load of patients with a list of ailments ranging from blisters to torn ligaments to exhaustion and dehydration.  I believe we won a lot of respect from the European nations, from the military to their civilian population.

It was good to get home again, even if it was raining.  Both Samantha and Reginald were waiting to pick us up and both were supporting badges on both arms.  I congratulated both warmly.  Samantha seemed to have lost weight while Reginald had put it on.  Pride in themselves shone from their faces.

‘Any of you pair good at shooting?’  I asked as we hauled our gear across the airport car park.

‘I don’t like the sound of that at all Miss Samantha.’

‘Nor I Reginald.’

CHAPTER 71

We spent the next two months training bloody hard for our new role.  Which consisted mainly of crawling about the hills in the dark, locating and shooting targets with moderated sniper rifles and infiltrating enemy positions with wall-to-wall technology.  We had already started on this but now we were getting it down to a fine art.  Our enemies of course were the SAS.

For the first couple of weeks they picked us off time and time again.  Then General Morris loaned us one of his men who had been a gamekeeper, George McIntosh, who promptly called in his father.  Within a fortnight, we began to get through, a fortnight after that they couldn’t stop us.  They would counter our moves and we would adapt on the Spot.  Samantha and Reginald really came into their own here, setting up a fire base they would cover us in with their silenced snipers rifles, taking out sentries and roving patrols, both were given the coveted marksman’s badges at the end of it.

The medical company I was a major shareholder in was going from strength to strength.  Having two years of back orders, they were already building a new factory down in England.  An American Consortium tried to buy them out but I threatened to take back my programme and that stopped them dead in their tracks.

Politically things were in turmoil, pressure was slowly mounting against American aggression and they were going to have to move fast or drop it.  Scotland became a member of the Geneva Convention and ACV’S units deemed legal.  The only country to boycott the decision was America who stated they would treat any ACV’S unit in the same manner as they would treat any other combat unit.

The blockade at sea was smashed, lanes were kept open between the rigs, the mainland fighters would sweep them clean, then helicopters would go in and re-supply the rigs.  The moral of the American fleet had been smashed to but there was already another larger fleet on its way across.  Osprey hadn’t been attacked since, although some of the other command rigs had; one had gone up in flames with thirty men losing their lives.  Another had a serious fire due to lack of maintenance and now special civilian maintenance teams were allowed through.  The men who performed these tasks were the best-paid workers in the country.  Three more unmanned rigs had been boarded and sank.  The third had taken out a detachment of navy seals as they tried to defuse the explosive changes on its legs.

It was at this time we received an unexpected visitor.  We were just sitting about one evening when a Chinook with American markings came into land outside the compound.  Everyone flew into a panic literally falling over themselves to grab a weapon but we need not have worried it was only Mike and Bruce.  Gordon arrived moments later to pick them up.

They laughed at the panic they had caused.  ‘What’s going on?’  I asked as they peeled off gas masks.

‘Give you a fright did we?’

‘A fright, Christ I thought it was the second coming.’

‘It’s funny you should say that, in a way it is.’

‘How’s that Mike?’

‘That’s the Chinook from Osprey.’

‘Why have you brought it here?’

He shrugged.  ‘We’ve nowhere else to put it.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘No-one wants it.’

‘Why not?  It’s still in good nick.’

‘Try going near it without a gas mask and you’ll see.’

I did and retreated hastily it was ripe.  ‘Christ it stinks, didn’t anybody clean it out?’

‘Nope.’

‘Couldn’t they have just dropped it into the sea?’

‘Too dangerous.’

‘Burn it!’

‘The fire crews refused to go near it.’

‘So it stank the place up and your boss told you to dump it?’

‘More or less.’

‘So why us?’

‘Well you captured it, spoils of war Jim, have fun.’

They fucked off laughing.  It sat there for two days before I was faced with a delegation.  They told me it was my fault so I could clean it.  So I spent the next few days covered from head to toe in protective clothing and a gas mask, with a steam cleaner in my hands and a shit load of chemicals.  It still seemed to stink though, it was a couple of weeks before the smell finally dissipated, and anyone would go near it.  I phoned Mike but they didn’t want it back, so I tried the army air corps.  Then the RAF, but everyone seemed to know its story and didn’t want it.  So we were stuck with it.

I found myself awake at four that morning unable to sleep further.  Summer had finally arrived so I sat on the steps and smoked.  Boy kept me company as we watched the dawn arrive together, I would occasionally stroke him and his purring would soothe me.

There was stillness about that dawn.  There was no great blaze of light across the heavens; it just grew lighter warmer and stiller.

A car raced in past the guard box, they jumped out but relaxed when they recognised the half-dressed Kenny scramble from the car.  It was the first time I had seen him breathless.  ‘Have you heard the news?’

I lit another cigarette.  ‘Nope, where did they hit?’

‘The Outer Hebrides and the Shetlands first, a task force is now heading down the Irish Sea, where is everybody?’

‘In their beds it’s only six o’clock.’

‘Will I wake them up?’

I shrugged.

‘What the fucks going on?’  Buff had woken at the sound of Kenny’s car arriving, noticed I was gone and got up to investigate.

‘It’s started,’ I told him.

‘Uh!  What has?’

Kenny squeezed past us.  ‘The Yanks have invaded the islands.’

‘Oh whit!’

The day came to life.  ‘Jim, Jim come and see this.’  Gigs yelled.  My soul felt heavy as I dragged myself inside to the TV.  I carried the cat in for comfort, he seemed to realise my distress and never struggled to get down.

‘Look Jim its Tina,’ Nommy pointed out, they were all sitting round the telly in their underwear.

She was in a news helicopter, ‘we are being forced to land now, oh my god.  There are soldiers and helicopters everywhere.  I think, yes, there’s a bulldozer over there, I think they’re extending the runway.  Don’t land George stay a few feet above the ground turn her round.  That’s it, what’s that there?  Are they setting up anti-aircraft batteries?’  There were some popping noises, ‘Oh shit they’re shooting at us.’

‘Oh, Christ, I’m going to have to put her down, they’ve hit the engine,’ screamed the pilot.  There were more popping noises and Tina dived away from a row of holes that appeared high on the fuselage behind her, smoke blew in.  She screamed as the helicopter hit the ground and tilted, but the pilot caught it and it settled back.

Tina and the cameraman were now lying on the floor face to face.  She blew away a rebellious lock of hair.  ‘I wish Jim and the boys were here.’  The camera nodded a reply.  The door was ripped open and a hand reached in and grabbed her by the ankles.  She screamed as a Marine pulled and just managed to grab a leg of the pilot’s seat.  The Marine lost his grip and she rolled onto her back lashing out as he tried to grab her again, a heel caught him on the bridge of his nose.

‘We are unarmed you bastards,’ she screamed at the retreating Marine.  A roar of approval shook the room, but our glee was short lived.  This time two men took an ankle each and launched her out of the smouldering helicopter.  A foot appeared on screen as the cameraman began lashing out at his assailant’s.  He managed to focus on Tina as a Marine picked her up by her hair.  The look of surprise on the Marine’s face was novel as she pulled herself free leaving him with a hand full of extensions.

A furious Tina turned and kicked him in the balls, as he went down she kneed him in the chin then turned on others closing in around her.  We lost the picture as they caught the cameraman and he too was launched into the air.  The camera came to rest facing Tina.  She was in obvious agony.  A big Marine was kneeling on her back trying to secure the wriggling woman; she lay next to a pile of human debris.  It seemed the tilting rotor blades had executed a little revenge of their own.  The last thing we saw was a rifle butt as it smashed the camera lens.

‘Bastards,’ Abie screamed, into the stunned silence.  Davie McAlister was just able to pluck him off his feet before he stuck a boot of his own into the large TV screen.  He held him off the floor until he stopped struggling. 

A very confused looking newscaster filled the TV screen.  He was white faced and shaken by the loss of their best reporter.  ‘I’m sorry about that everyone; I think we’re, sorry, yes OK.’  He was talking to someone, speaking into his earphone.  ‘Yes OK, I am sorry about that, as you can see we have lost our report so were going back to Hamish McLean with the latest developments.’

A map of Scotland appeared.  The American fleet had split; the smaller fleet had taken out the Orkneys and Shetlands with the larger fleet now sailing down the West Coast.  I knew the Islands were undefended so they would soon have one line of staging posts all the way down the Western Isles.

I stood, ‘all right everybody let’s get dressed, they’ll be coming in soon.  Buff, break out the anti-aircraft missiles.’

‘What will they hit first Jim?’  Ali asked.

‘The normal probably, power supplies, airfields, barracks, TV, radio, á that kind ó shit.’  We got dressed rapidly and Buff handed out ammo.  ‘Nommy, Grizz, grab Sam and Reginald’s rifles in case this place is hit to.’

‘I want to grab the scanner Jim.’

‘Take everything Davie.’  We had all grabbed part of our operational equipment when Boy jumped up onto my bed and started hissing.  A moment later a siren started wailing far away.  ‘OK everybody outside spread out and take cover, Grizz get the guard out of that damned box, move.’  They rushed past.

I was about to follow when the President of the USA appeared on screen.  I turned the volume up loud and opened the windows so I would be able to hear it outside.

The American President was a handsome man; quite young with a glint in his eye that appealed to the voters, I thought it was madness.  He had broken into one of his mindless speeches beginning to explain the actions of his armed forces.  His grey monotone began to grate on my nerves and for a moment, I considered kicking it in.

‘Jim, Jim.’

The sirens were beginning to sound closer to home and Buff was getting worried.  Peter Grey replaced the American President and his voice kept me on the threshold.  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen fellow Scots, forgive me for interrupting the speech of the American President but he’s been practicing it on me for the last two hours and has only just finished.  By that time, his troops had already invaded Scottish soil.  The outer and inner Hebrides has already fallen as has the Orkney and Shetlands.  His invasion fleet is as I speak, heading towards the Clyde.  Bombers have already begun to hit strategic targets within the country and cruise missiles and bombers are already heading for Edinburgh.

The President claims these actions are necessary to protect the peaceful passage of his fleet’s around Scotland’s hostile waters.  The statement was probably made to stop me taking decisive action against his invasion forces and it worked, but never again.  He also neglected to declare war before he invaded our sacred soil and try’s to pass off his aggressiveness as a step to peace, well I’m sorry Mr. President but the only one who believes your helpless lies is yourself.

Before I go, I want to rectify one of your mistakes, as of this minute the Sovereign State of Scotland is now at war with the USA.  May the good Lord stand on the side of the righteous.’  The screen blinked off and I rushed outside to join my friends shouting the news, the weight on my soul gone.

The End