Read Kidnap (The Billionaire Series) Online
Authors: Murray McDonald
He caught the early morning flight from Glasgow to Heathrow and
then boarded the 13.10 Middle East Airlines flight from London to Beirut
International. One of his identities was that of a retired Lebanese army
officer. He sailed through Customs and Immigration without so much as a second
glance. He had a Hummer waiting for him outside and made the
hour
long
journey into the mountains of
Faraya
, a
beautiful and tranquil spot where he could conduct his business in peace. He
checked into the Intercontinental Hotel and awaited the arrival of his team,
drinking a beer on the
terrace which
, to his surprise,
overlooked ski runs. It appeared to that
Faraya
was a
luxury ski resort, the last thing he expected to see in Lebanon.
Over the next twelve hours, the Lieutenants and Team Leaders
arrived and checked in for their supposed International Sales
Conference which
was scheduled to start the following
morning. The conference started at precisely 9.00 a.m. and the men masqueraded
as the International Sales Team for Deccan Ltd. They met in Conference Suite
One which
had been swept for bugs and declared clean by one
of the more technical members of the team.
His two lieutenants were to be his right-hand men, Pieter and
Leo. Pieter had been a Major in the South African Special Forces. He was known
for his brutality and support for the apartheid regime. He was instantly
relieved of his duties when Nelson Mandela was elected President. The only
reason he avoided prison for his crimes against South African citizens was due
to a tip-
off which
had given him an hour’s head-start.
He escaped to Europe, changed identity and became a hired gun, commanding
similar monies and status to Reaper. Although there was no doubt in either
man’s mind as to whom was best, a scar across Pieter’s face was a permanent
reminder. Reaper had recognised a kindred spirit on a previous mission and had
spared Pieter’s life. From then on, Pieter had the utmost respect for Reaper
and Reaper remained the only man whom he had ever feared.
The second lieutenant, Leo, was of significantly less physical
stature than Reaper and Pieter but just as deadly and even more brutal. He had
a passion for torture and slow, painful deaths. If a client wanted to exact
everlasting revenge or extract information, they would call on him. It was said
that a number of his victims were still alive and living in such pain that they
would rather have died. Leo’s intelligence bordered on genius and it was for
this that Reaper had called on his talents.
His Lieutenants had been picked because they were the best. The
eight Team Leaders were chosen because they too were among the best but also
because they had particular backgrounds. For example, Kevin and Erich were very
white, very blond, had shaven heads and numerous tattoos, including swastikas
and were both ex Special Forces. They were perfect for the Idaho camp housing
predominately white supremacists and Nazis.
The next two Team Leaders were Muhammad and
Fadi
and would be responsible for the camp in Syria. Again they had been chosen for
their backgrounds and characteristics and would command respect from the
terrorists in Syria. Both were ex-Special Forces, one from Saudi Arabia, the
other from Pakistan.
The Zimbabwe camp was to be looked after by the largest black man
Reaper had ever seen, named Leroy. He was seven feet tall, made of solid muscle
and commanded respect from his appearance alone.
He was
joined by Mark, a significantly smaller individual who had spent years fighting
in the Middle East
. Again, they were both ex-Special Forces and their
backgrounds would command respect from their group of terrorists.
The camp, in Colombia, was the most difficult with the largest
number of factions. For that camp, Reaper resorted to money and fear. They
would be paid significantly more for their services and would be commanded by
two of the scariest Team Leaders, in the same league as Leo and Pieter. Andrej
was Serbian and had avoided war trials through luck alone. He had been a key
member of the
Arkan
Tigers and was personally
responsible for thousands of
cold blooded
murders
during a period of ethnic cleansing. Reaper was not scared of him but he
certainly sent a shiver down his spine. Marco was Italian and fearless. He was
not the biggest man by any stretch but would happily fight somebody twice his
size. He was also the dirtiest
fighter which
, added to
his fiery temper, meant that he fought a lot and rarely lost.
Reaper started the conference with brief introductions and over
the course of the day introduced each of the Team Leaders to their objectives
and responsibilities. The training camps would be operational as of the next
day and the mission would begin five weeks later.
Once all the Team Leaders had left, Reaper turned to Pieter and
Leo.
“OK, now I’ll cut the bull. You guys need to know what is really
going on.”
“Yeah, I thought something was missing. You don’t spend $20
million dollars on what we’ve just covered,” replied Leo.
Reaper explained the plan in detail but left out various key
points. He trusted these two men more than
anyone which
was enough for most of the detail but not all of it.
“Bloody brilliant!” exclaimed Pieter.
“Genius,” said Leo.
Reaper had one more thing to do before he went to sleep. He took
out his coded mobile and made a call.
“Well, how was it?” barked the client.
“Very good.
Excellent, in fact.
Everything’s coming together nicely.”
“Good,” responded the client.
Reaper sensed the phone was about to hang up.
“Don’t hang up. I need to discuss one point with you.”
“What?”
“I’m having difficulty in one area and it’s costing significantly
more than I expected. The soldiers at the school are proving rather greedy and
costing me much more than I’d originally planned.”
“How many do you have now?”
“I have twelve on side, four of course are down to you but I need
at least twenty and would prefer twenty five.”
“How much?”
“$10 million.”
“Fine.” The phone went dead, discussion over, no pleasantries.
Chapter
25
One week later
Rachel burst into Tom’s room.
“What time is it?” came a drowsy and agitated voice.
“It’s 7.30,” answered Rachel.
“What? In the morning?”
“Of course! Now come on, we’ve got lots to do.”
“Please just let me sleep.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you start your new school today, now come
on…UP!” demanded Rachel.
Tom knew his mother well and when her tone changed to
the don’t
mess with me tone, he stopped arguing and got up.
The last four weeks had been a blur, Tom having spent almost
every waking hour in the simulator. Jacques had been delighted with his
progress and had jokingly mentioned to Donald that he was better than some of
his colleagues.
Rachel and Lela had spent the four weeks shopping, Rachel even
taking time off work to help. Tom had thanked God for the simulator otherwise
he would have been dragged along too. Saki, however, had not been so lucky. Tom
never thought he had seen Saki look so depressed. When Tom had asked him what
was wrong, he had expected him to say that he was upset at Lela and Tom going
away but he hadn’t. He just said ‘bloody shops I can’t stand them’.
Donald had been working so hard they had hardly seen him as he
worked through the detail of the IBC acquisition.
***
Over 6,000 miles away, the twins were making their final
preparations. Their targets would be arriving soon and their orders stated that
the targets should never be out of their sights. They had spent the last three
weeks planning for their arrival. They had dug out camouflaged
hidey holes
everywhere to ensure that their surveillance of
the targets would remain a secret.
***
Reaper sat in the cottage looking over his plan for the
thousandth time. That day would see the start of the next phase of the
operation. He had secured the services of the
twenty five
soldiers he wanted on the island.
This was in addition to the
four already recruited by his client
. Intelligence had already been
flowing in from the island and target surveillance would soon be received for
the first time.
***
Tom finished packing his hand luggage and made his way down to
what would be their last family breakfast for a while.
“Morning,” he said as he entered the kitchen and was met with a
half hearted
response. The mood was
subdued,
everyone was upset at the prospect of not seeing each other for some time. Tom
broke the silence, the 10.00 a.m. departure was playing on his mind.
“Dad, why are we leaving so late? We won’t land at the school
until after midnight local time, it doesn’t make any sense.”
“I agree, but Sam
Mitcham
was very
clear that these were the timings. He wouldn’t let us use our own plane, for
security reasons. So I’m afraid it will be a late arrival.”
“Well I just hope they know what they’re doing. I would’ve left
at 6.00 a.m. and been there for dinner but hey,” he had resigned himself to the
schedule but still thought it was strange.
“Come on Tom, it’ll be fun no matter what,” said Lela.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Can we travel in the helicopter with them?” asked Saki.
“I don’t see why not,” replied Donald.
The talk around the table was drowned out by the sound of
helicopter blades whirling on the lawn, whipping up the fallen autumn leaves.
“That’s weird,” said Tom.
“What’s weird?” asked Rachel.
“It’s a US helicopter,” he replied as he watched the monitor
display the helicopter landing on the helipad.
“It’ll just be because Sam
Mitcham
arranged it,” said Donald. “Come on, eat up and let’s go.”
They finished their breakfast and headed to the helipad. Their luggage
had been picked up the previous night and sent on ahead. They boarded the
helicopter, Tom explaining the type and key performance statistics as they
buckled into their seats.
What happened next surprised every one of them. Instead of
heading South East to the airport, they headed South West.
“This is not the normal route to the airport, where are we
going?” asked Donald as he tapped the pilot on the shoulder.
“I’m afraid that’s classified Sir,” came the response.
“Where are we going Dad?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know but don’t worry, I’m sure everything’s fine.”
Saki, overhearing the conversation, moved to the front of the
helicopter and asked the Pilot again where they were heading. The pilot sensed
that Saki was not an individual to be messed with and so added more detail to
his previously obtuse response.
Saki made his way back and informed the family.
“We’re heading to an airfield that used to be called RAF
Machrihanisch
. It’s now used during the week as an airport
for commercial flights. However, during the night and at weekends, it remains a
military base.”
“Why are we going there?” asked Tom.
“He says it’s because they need the long runway. It’s supposedly
one of the longest runways in the UK.”
“OK,” said Tom, confused. Glasgow could handle every type of
aircraft in production including the A380.
They landed next to a hangar in what appeared to be a deserted
airport. As soon as they got out of the helicopter, it took off immediately,
dipped its nose and raced off into the distance.
“Donald, what the hell’s going on?” asked Rachel, becoming
increasingly concerned.
“I’ve got no idea,” said Donald who looked across at Saki who was
poised and ready for whatever came at them.
Thirty seconds later, a Colonel appeared from the hangar.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning. What the hell’s going on here?” snapped Donald.
“A little treat, courtesy of our former president, Mr
Mitcham
, with the blessing of our current President of
course,” responded the Colonel.
Met with quizzical looks, he thought it best to move the group
inside.
“Perhaps it would be easier to explain inside,” he said as he
motioned them into the hangar.
As they walked into the hangar, none of them were ready for what
they were about to see. In the centre of the hangar, stood an airplane but it
was no ordinary airplane. They had seen nothing like it. Its wings were so
swept back that it looked like a rocket lying on its side. The fuselage was
made of a metal so shiny that it looked like a cylindrical mirror. There were
no windows and apparently no openings except for two tiny portholes at the
front.
“What is it?” asked Saki.
“I think I know,” said Tom hardly able to contain his excitement.
“If you make your way on board, you’ll see,” said the Colonel.
“How do we get aboard?” asked Donald.
Instead of answering, the Colonel nodded in the direction of the
aircraft and an invisible seal opened and a door and steps dropped to the
ground.
As they entered the plane, there were six seats to the right.
They did not look very comfortable. In fact, professional rally car seats
looked positively luxurious compared to the moulded contraptions in front of
them. To the left was a
door which they presumed
led
to the cockpit. The lack of windows seemed strange and quite disconcerting,
almost like being in the barrel of a huge gun.