Everything to Lose (28 page)

43

Gudge
Heath
Lane
,
Fareham

Scott had traced Ivan's history through the Security Service and Secret Service databases. It was now two a.m. and Zoe was ready to begin. She removed the headphones, the black hood and gaffer tape from his mouth.

"Ivan
Fillipovar, Bulgarian national, Bulgarian army until 1992 when the end of the cold war put you out of a job. Now freelance muscle," Zoe read out loud.

He
raised his head to stare at the ceiling.

"Pain
is my first love. We waltz together like young lovers, we sing together, we die together," Ivan announced proudly.

"Freelance
security ever since ..."

"Let
your dogs loose. I die happy I say nothing."

"Who
is Yordan?"

"Nothing
I give up nothing."

"Looking
at these call logs I think he's your boyfriend. Does Yordan have Gavin Shawlens and Oliver Mansole?"

Ivan
laughed out loud. His expression told her he knew something she didn't know.

"Good.
You know nothing. Is very good news."

"No
wife or children. One sister Zlatka, a nurse with two daughters, husband deceased. One brother Tidor married to Eva, one son. Father, Andon aged 66 lives alone in a high rise flat, outside Sofia. Nice family group," Zoe read out loud.

"You
know nothing. Bulgarian family reprisals are way of life for hundreds of years. Yordan knows you come. He already moved my family to safety. Tiss automatic thing we do. Too late for you."

"I
don't think so Ivan," Zoe said as she pondered over the screen on Scott's laptop.

"I
have no breaking point. I am iron man. I am iron man FOUR!" he laughed.

"I
believe you Ivan."

"Beat
me now. Let your dogs tear my flesh. I spit in their ugly faces."

"You
spoke to Yordan three hours ago. I'm sure if he doesn't hear from you in the next couple of hours then he'll leap into action to protect your family. They'll run to the hills, back to the village."

"I
love you Yordan," he shouted.

"I'm
sure you can hold out for a couple of hours. Send Yordan a text," Zoe said to Scott.

Scott
saw from the translation of his texts that every four hours they exchanged short texts to confirm everything was okay. The last text had been sent from Yordan to Ivan so Scott copied one of Ivan's earlier texts and sent it to Yordan.

As
soon as they had Ivan Fillipovar's name and address from his passport the Security and Secret Services began to backfill all of his personal details. Zoe knew he would not respond to torture in the short time available. She contacted Secret Services at the British Embassy, Sofia, Bulgaria. Authorisations were quickly sorted and she instructed them to make their way to Ivan's family. Two teams were deployed, one to his father's flat and one to his sister's flat.

Two
hours passed before Scott reported that he had live feeds from both Secret Service teams. The screen was split into two and the left screen showed the front door of Andon Fillipovar's flat. It was on the twelfth floor of a grey concrete tower block in a poor district of Sofia dense with drab high-rise flats. The second screen showed the front door of Zlatka's flat. Scott turned his laptop around so Ivan could see the screen.

Ivan
watched as one man wearing a shoulder video camera fed a thin telescopic wire through the letterbox of his father's front door while the other man picked the lock.

"Alpha
team report," Scott said into his headset.

"Alpha
team in position. Someone shuffling about inside. Ready to go."

"What's
your father doing up this early in the morning Ivan? Does your father suffer from insomnia?" Zoe asked.

"Bravo
team report," Scott said.

"Bravo
team in position. All quiet. We have breathing in the nearest bedroom, two, congested, sounds like heavy colds. Door is free. Ready to go."

"Do
your nieces share a room Ivan, near the door? Sounds like your nieces have a heavy cold," Zoe said and patted Ivan on the shoulder.

Ivan
and Zoe stared intensely at each other, testing each other’s nerve. She averted her eyes first and he smirked.

"Where
is Dr Shawlens?"

"Walking
with dinosaurs," Ivan replied and sniggered.

"I
don't have time for this," Zoe said as she nodded to Scott.

"Alpha
team take the old man to the balcony and throw him over," Scott announced.

Ivan
watched his father's front door fly open and the two men rushed forward to the terrified old man standing in his living room.

He
wore a brown dressing gown over faded blue striped pyjamas and old leather slippers. Ivan watched as his father shouted, arms flailing, at the two men in his home. One of the intruders punched him unconscious to shut him up.

"Aahhgg!"
Ivan screamed and strained against the tapes binding him to the chair.

The
old man weighed more than 150 kg. The two men cleared a path through to the balcony. They struggled to get his dead weight up onto his floppy legs. With a mighty heave they rushed him to the rail around his balcony.

"STOP,"
Ivan shouted.

"Alpha
team stand …," Scott started but it was too late.

Ivan
waited too long. He thought they would stop at the balcony then give him one last chance to give up Shawlens. The two men decided to run the old man to the balcony and prop him up on the metal rail around the balcony before they flipped him over.

The
metal rail around the balcony was rusted. One side pulled off the wall by the force of his body and he fell when the two men couldn't hold on to him. The man wearing the shoulder camera looked over the edge of the balcony for the video feed to show the body, twelve levels below, splattered on the concrete ground.

"Alpha
team clear out. Move to the third target," Scott ordered.

The
video stream showed the two men hurrying out of the flat. They closed the door behind them then the video feed went blank. Scott handed a piece of notepaper to Zoe.

"Ivan,
don't force me to kill Elena and Penka. Give me Gavin Shawlens and Oliver Mansole."

"Aahhgg!
Dolna kuchka."

"You
know I'm not police. I'm not interested in family business. I am not here to deal with that. I want Gavin Shawlens. Give him up. I get on with my business. You get on with your business."

Ivan
shook his head from side to side in desperation.

"Ne.
Ebi se."

"Bravo
team," Scott started.

"Mansole
still hides. I do not find," Ivan blurted out.

"Where
is Shawlens?"

"Ne."

Zoe nodded to Scott.

"Bravo
team, arrest the family. Take them to safe house eight, await instructions. Alpha team proceed to the second family. Arrest all of them, rendezvous with Bravo team at safe house eight," Scott ordered.

Ivan
looked agitated. Bravado disappeared and desperation filled his face. Finally Zoe saw a chink in his armour.

"Ivan
listen to me. If I get Shawlens I will let your family go free. Refuse me once more and I will burn your entire family. I will force you to watch the video stream. You will suffer their terrifying screams. Then I will move on Yordan and his family. Someone will give me what I want. It's only a matter of how many have to die in pain before I get Shawlens."

"Prague,
Vysehrad district, BRTKPharma factory on Svobodova."

Two
minutes later an elated Scott said.

"I've
got an address."

"How
did you transport Shawlens?"

"In
company van. Folkestone, Eurotunnel shuttle Calais, drive to Prague. I came back same route by car," Ivan said.

"Where
is Yordan?"

"Stayed
to guard Shawlens."

"Scott,
check that timescale," Zoe said.

Zoe
watched Scott as he calculated rough travel times. It would have taken Yordan and Ivan three hours to reach Folkestone then an hour to get through the Eurotunnel shuttle and on to Calais. They would have landed in Calais at around midnight on Monday night.

Scott's
laptop showed the distance between Calais and Prague to be five hundred and fifty miles. It's a good twelve-hour drive. Probably arrived in Prague before lunchtime on Tuesday sooner if they knew the road. Two full days round trip so it would fit for Ivan to return on Wednesday night. He told Zoe the timing checked out.

Zoe
called Alan Cairn to organise approvals, helicopter transport and an SAS support team in civilian clothes for a street operation in Prague. The helicopter crew had stepped down from fifteen-minute readiness to forty-five minute readiness but Toni and Zoe were well known, so the pilot accepted the scramble.

When
Alan Cairn returned Zoe's call he told her the Czech's had given clearance and offered full backup. He said the flying time to Prague would be two hours. He told her wheels up in forty minutes at 07.45 a.m. from a private airfield ten miles west of her current position.

Zoe
told Scott to babysit Ivan and stay in contact with the Secret Service teams in Bulgaria until further instructions. Zoe and Toni prepared to leave.

"Why
did BRTKPharma take Shawlens?" Zoe asked Ivan.

"I
am muscle not brain."

"Ivan
I'm military like you once were. If you've told me the truth I'll release your family. If you're sending me on a wild goose chase. I'll allow one act of compassion. I'll spare my men the task of burning your family alive. I'll do it myself and I'll be thinking only one thing when I light the fire. Will Yordan be as stupid a man as Ivan?"

"My
family cannot have eternal rest until my father's death has been avenged. My beloved family will kill you, your family and your family's family."

"I
believe you Ivan. My great regimental family in Herefordshire believe you. That's why details are being gathered for every member of you extended family. If just one of them moves against my family. They all die. Tiss automatic thing we do very well," she threatened with even more menace.

44

Prague
,
Czech
Republic

At 9.50 a.m. local time Zoe Tampin led her team off a Special Forces flight Eurocopter AS332M Super Puma tactical transport helicopter in a disserted airfield outside Prague. Zoe led Toni and four troopers over to a black van. A HARC 7 (heavily armed response and communications) vehicle, number seven of twenty such vehicles, located at strategic military installations around Europe.

Inside
she met two Czech Special Forces men, one liaison and one driver. She introduced her group to the Czech men. They welcomed Zoe, Toni, Bazzer, Biffo, Haggis and Seasy. All dressed in civilian clothes to blend into the streets of Prague. Zoe briefed all of them on the operation they were about to execute while they organised communications and weapons check.

Zoe
handed out photos of Gavin Shawlens and told them Shawlens was more than just friendly, he was family. She warned them she wanted no mistakes. They studied his face to avoid a friendly fire hit. Together they examined a layout of the building and tried to anticipate outcomes so they could plan their response.

The
Czech liaison officer briefed Zoe on the intelligence he'd gathered on the target building. He told her that in addition to Shawlens the latest thermal image update showed five others in the building. He offered additional boots on the ground to increase the odds. She declined the extra people, thanked him for the offer then told him how she wanted Czech Special Forces to support her operation. She feared that too many boots on the ground greatly increased the risk of Shawlens being hit by friendly fire.

Seventy
minutes after picking up Zoe's group in the Czech Republic the Czech Special Forces driver parked the HARC 7 fifty metres down the street on the opposite side so Zoe in the front of the van could eyeball the entrance to BRTKPharma's factory.

Zoe
deployed her group to cover all the exits and entrances to the building. One by one the group took up their assigned positions and reported back to Zoe when in position. The building was wrapped tight like a drum. Everyone reported they were ready to go.

Zoe
issued instructions and received video feeds from her group. She had five video feeds showing the streets around the BRTKPharma factory on a split twenty-four inch flat screen in the van. She prepared them for simultaneous multiple incursion, followed by rapid convergence on Shawlens position. She ordered them to take down any armed hostile who persisted in blocking their way.

Suddenly
the back door of the HARC van sprang open flooding the van with bright sunlight. Zoe saw the figure of a man climb into the van. She couldn't see his face at first as sunlight behind him blinded her. As the door closed Zoe saw his handgun pointing at her head. The man flapped his fingers back and forth to the Czech driver and he climbed backward to sit beside Zoe.

"Vindanson.
What the fuck?" Zoe exclaimed.

"STAND
your group down Zoe," Vindanson ordered.

"STAND
DOWN," he shouted.

Zoe
stared into the face of Herman Vindanson. He was a South African mercenary although these days he called himself a privatised peacekeeper. She first met him in the southern African continent when she was on SAS deployment to train friendly forces. The SAS trainers were recalled back to the UK and she supervised the handover of training to a freelance outfit commanded by Herman Vindanson.

"I've
got house clearance to do on this pitch," Vindanson said.

"I
don't give a shit. I'm in the middle of an op," Zoe fired back.

"GIVE
the order to stand down and re-group to this van."

"Get
lost."

"You
want a firefight in the centre of Prague? Okay Zoe your call," Vindanson said.

He
raised a handset to his mouth and clicked transmit.

"Oscar.
Execute the man covering the rear door."

"Wait!"

"Oscar. Standby."

"Alpha
team, Bravo team stand down. Regroup to the HARC van. Now!" Zoe ordered.

"Wise
call Zoe. Oscar, return to position one," Vindanson said in a more sedate voice.

Herman
Vindanson was a professional warrior talented in violence. He was a man prepared to risk his life for the adrenaline of danger and wealth. Disciplined, experienced, a practical 'will do' guy who became a hero among certain sections of UN aid workers for getting the job done.

In
war zones UN aid workers are often prevented from doing their jobs because UN peacekeeping troops have to stand back while rebels and government troops fight it out. Vindanson and his men don't stand back. Instead they crack skulls together and disappear a few troublesome fighters to pause the hostilities so aid workers can get in to feed the starving and tend the dying.

Vindanson
watched the video streams as Zoe's group moved back to the van. Using the butt of his gun he smashed the HARC's communications equipment. He opened the door to allow Zoe's team members inside. As team members entered Vindanson pushed a compact Uzi in their face and ordered them to put their weapons into an empty locker. He took their radio headsets and crushed them under the heal of his boot.

Vindanson
pointed out a man standing on a corner twelve metres behind the HARC with his left hand concealed in a green carrier bag. Vindanson told Zoe he had an Uzi submachine gun in the green carrier bag and that if anyone stepped out of the van he would cut them down before one boot reached the ground. She nodded to confirm she understood the situation.

When
Vindanson closed the back door of the van, the group broke into the locker to recover their weapons. Zoe moved to the front seat of the van. The Czech van driver opened a glove compartment, retrieved a radio handset and handed it to her. She watched Vindanson walk briskly to the BRTKPharma building. She spotted another man hurrying along the street to meet up with him.
You
must
be
Oscar
she thought.

"Angel
One report position, over," she called into the radio.

"HARC,
six hundred metres north. Holding pattern alpha above the botanic gardens, over," Pavel replied.

"Angel
One. Quickly locate new target. IC3 male, five eight, ninety kilos, head shaven, brown jacket, grey trousers, black shoes, green carrier bag. Corner of Vinarickeho and Svobodova. He has me pinned down, over," Zoe said.

The
pilot circled south and manoeuvred the helicopter so that the open door faced north overlooking Svobodova while Pavel Slodovan shifted his body from sitting on his backside to looking through the sight of his CZW 127 semi-automatic sniper rifle in a firing position with the rifle stock pressed hard into his shoulder.

"HARC,
target acquired, over," Pavel said.

"Angel
One. Take out hostile target, rapid fire, over."

Pavel
was not a member of Zoe's team. Pavel Slodovan was her Czech liaison officer and waited for instructions. His call sign Angel One was not included in Zoe's recall order. He had taken position in a helicopter ready to follow any vehicle escaping from the factory.

Pavel
Slodovan was a captain in the 601st Special Forces Group (SFG) a company of the Czech Army. Zoe had first met Pavel in Kosovo in 1999 and again in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan in 2004.

Pavel
and his men supported the Operation for seven months and completed all of their missions successfully despite an extremely aggressive climate. Zoe had no hesitation in contacting Pavel for support when she knew she was heading for the Czech Republic.

A
single high powered shot shattered the man's head and he flopped to the ground. His brains and blood splattered over the wall behind him. A bright red pool flowed on the ground near his head. Pedestrians and some car drivers ran to his aid and a few screamed at the sight of his shattered head.

"HARC,
target down, over," Pavel reported.

"
Go! Go! Go!" Zoe shouted to her group.

The
group burst out of the van as a crowd gather around the dead man. Zoe sent the Czech driver to deal with the crowd and secure the Uzi. Zoe, Toni, Haggis, Bazzer, Biffo and Seasy sprinted over to the BRTKPharma building entrance. They hid their weapons in their coats and jackets. The main door was open. They waited outside.

Zoe
asked Angel One for an update on thermal. Pavel reported two new images in the building moving erratically, searching. Just inside the building Zoe saw a reception secretary dead in a pool of blood around her head.

Pavel
confirmed Shawlens hadn't moved. He was the only person in the building confined to one small room at the back of the building. His thermal signal was unchanged, he was still alive. Zoe pulled her group to her for final instructions. The original plan was scrapped and she gave them a new search pattern in the building. Then she led the way through the entrance door.

Tension
soared and hearts pounded as they thought about what to expect. In addition to BRTKPharma people there were now a group of experienced well armed mercs to deal with. Probably not many but lethal none the less. The crucial element of surprise had gone. No-one likes it when a plan is massively changed. Zoe told them the new plan; embrace the unexpected.

When
operations look to be going south the mind starts to worry if this will be the last. If death or invalidity is waiting just around the corner. Confidence begins to weaken. Training will kick-in when the shooting starts and the sooner it starts the better.