Blood Money (12 page)

For over a decade, information on the location of such devices has been used by police and the intelligence services to solve crime and fight terrorism. The general public are only starting to become aware of cell phone forensics as more and more reports get publicised on how these devices are being used to capture criminals or to find lost children.

Detectives now routinely contact the mobile phone networks and obtain details of phone calls and phone movements. Most organised criminals are only too aware of the dangers of being tracked by their mobiles and prefer to buy pay-as-you-go phones to use a few days before they commit a crime, only to dispose of them immediately afterwards.

Eddie has already reconnoitred the bungalow some 100 yards away. Walking around it from window to window in the pitch black with a thermal imaging camera, he's been able to confirm that four slumbering occupants are indeed inside.

With no other buildings for half a mile, no prying neighbours and no fear of being overlooked it made for a good safe house. But their advantage becomes Eddie's advantage now. He shows his two colleagues a sketch of the layout as best he understands it. The position of the front and back doors, as well as the windows, soil-pipes, drains and chimneys have combined to help him pretty much determine exactly how the internals are laid out and he marks on the sketch which are the two rooms that are presently occupied.

Alexis stays quiet. He merely listens as Eddie finalises with his two mercenaries exactly how they'll storm the bungalow. After smashing-in the windows of the two bedrooms that contain their quarry they'll then throw inside a couple of G60 stun grenades known as ‘flash-bangs'. This will disorientate and distract the hostiles, buying them a few precious moments in which to enter though the front and back doors before neutralising the threat inside.

*

Eddie leads his fellow ex-servicemen around to the back of the Range Rover where he hands out the equipment they'll be using for tonight's job.

Kitted-out, the three men silently move forward, gradually getting adjusted to ‘depth of vision loss' caused by having to wear night vision goggles. As they get closer, they instinctively adopt crouched postures and slow down their movements. In a matter of minutes they're in position, with one holding station round by the back door whilst the other two each pick a bedroom window to stand beside. They wait momentarily, listening only to the intense silence until at last the fingers from Eddie's outstretched arm signal his countdown: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

With the two bedroom windows smashed-in, the flash-bangs get thrown inside. The Mk13 G60's utilise a delay fuse that detonates 1.5 seconds after the fly-off lever is released. Upon detonation the mercury and magnesium powder ignites to create a blinding flash. The 160 decibel sound produced not only shocks and stuns the occupants but is loud enough to disrupt their balance function as well as causing severe dizziness. Their chosen grenades also contain CS tear gas, and although they've each had some conditioning to its effects whilst serving in the British Army they prefer to protect their eyes by wearing air-tight goggles. Having uncovered their ears they immediately attend to breaching the rear and front doors with metal battering rams. Fired-up with adrenaline they hit them with such force that they're nearly smashed clean off their hinges. The three men rush in, handguns raised, intent on subduing the four hostiles.

Their night vision goggles transform the near total blackness inside the bungalow into an eerie monochromatic green. They already know which doorways will lead them to their quarry and there's no problem in locating the four half-naked figures who are blindly stumbling around. They throw the disorientated men to the floor and the slightest indication of resistance is quickly countered with a volley of indiscriminate kicks and punches.

Bleeding and bruised, the four Greeks have their wrists and ankles tightly bound with cable ties before being forcibly dragged into the front room where they are thrown to the floor against a bay window. The restrained men's eyes stream with tears and remain involuntarily shut-tight. Their nasal cavities have congested with thick mucus and their lungs wheeze and burn. These uncomfortable symptoms are short lived, and within ten minutes the effects of the stun grenades will begin to wear away.

Though their goggles provide a good degree of protection from the acrid air, Eddie's ability to breathe is now highly compromised, so with the captives now fully restrained they all step outside into the fresh air to recover. Glad that the first phase of the operation is complete they expel the noxious gas from their bodies by coughing hard and gulping in lungfuls of the cold night air. Having had a few minutes to recover, the bodyguard tramps back over to the Range Rover to give Alexis the all-clear to join them.

Before re-entering the building, Eddie details one of the men to keep sentry outside just in case some inquisitive neighbour who's within hearing distance decides to call by. The other is given a wholly separate task. “I need you to search the place for weapons, there should be at least two AK-47s and two Browning handguns in there, maybe more. If you come across a black holdall, grab that too. Then I want everything else of theirs gathered up in a pile: plans, maps, notebooks, clothes, possessions, the fucking lot. I don't want to leave so much as a trace that these goons ever stepped foot inside this building.”

Entering via the smashed-in front door aided by the modest beam from a flashlight Eddie leads Alexis into an the otherwise pitch-black front room. On seeing that one of the restrained men has shuffled half way across the carpet, the bodyguard takes a run-up and kicks him full force in the ribs before dragging him back into place with the others.

Having never experienced the effects of CS gas before, Alexis struggles at first to see through his tear-filled eyes. But his ability to focus slowly improves and glancing around, he's disgusted to find himself in a revolting hovel, barely fit for human habitation.

To begin with, Vasilakos tries shouting at them in English and with no time to waste he gets straight to the point. “Tell me who sent you!”

Flinching slightly, they all resolutely keep silent. Their worst fears are unfolding before them. Each is only too aware of what is happening and who it is who is speaking to them. Alexis shouts out twice more, demanding that they answer, but his bellowing fails to elicit a response.

Making the same demand in Greek also proves fruitless. The captives are exhibiting remarkably high levels of self-control considering their dire circumstances. Getting closer still, Alexis squats down right in front of them and shines a light at each of them in turn. This time his voice is quieter and calmer as he asks “I presume you do know who I am?”

He'd hoped to get his information quickly, believing they'd be compelled to respond to his authority. But Alexis's naive approach has backfired completely; their silence is making him feel powerless and impotent. This situation is going to require his bodyguard's wealth of experience.

Having sweated and strained to lift his bulk back up into a standing position, he kicks-out at the nearest captive out of sheer frustration. His victim finds the strength to clench his teeth and stifles the urge to cry out.

Making it sound like it's someone else's fault, Alexis impatiently instructs his bodyguard “For fucks sake Eddie! Do something to make them talk, I haven't got all night.”

But before they can proceed, a shout rings out from the back of the house “You're going to want to see this!” Leaving the front room, Eddie and Alexis enter the kitchen located at the back of the bungalow. At the bottom of an old fashioned sink cupboard there are two Kalashnikovs. Eddie nods his approval at the find, “That confirms it. We've definitely got the ‘terrorists' we're after. Keep searching for more guns whilst I rough them up a bit to get the answers we need.”

Eddie puts his hand on his boss's shoulder. “Look, I've done this before and it'll only take a couple of minutes. If I take one of them off on his own and make him scream a bit, the others will shit themselves. After that, they'll answer any questions you ask of them…”

“Ok Eddie, it's your gig. Do what you need to do.”

Re-entering the front room, Eddie shines his torch in the men's eyes. Whilst studying their faces to see who looks the most scared, he notices that two of them look very similar. He shrewdly figures that they're likely to be brothers. Knowing he can readily exploit such a weakness, Eddie picks out the younger of the two for ‘special treatment' and throwing some cordage around his victim's neck he drags him away into another room.

They've put up stoical resistance so far, but now the three remaining men in the bay window share the same frightened look, they've seen the weakest and youngest from their number dragged off by his neck, kicking-out as best he can in a futile attempt to resist. They can only imagine what pain and suffering will be meted out to him by the thug who's just hauled him away.

In the room across the hall, Eddie switches on the light and allows his victim to breathe once more. Blood streams profusely from the agonising cuts that have been burnt into his throat.

Needing to make this next bit as easy as possible, Eddie looks around and sees a radiator panel mounted on the far wall under a window sill. He kicks the kid in the guts, hard enough to immobilise him until he's been tied up. Lying incapacitated, winded and hurting, Eddie has little trouble in dragging the man over toward one end of the radiator where he secures the young man's ankles to the pipework with cable ties. But his victim is recovering too quickly, so the psychopath smashes his fist down into the side of his face to stun him yet again, buying him enough time to get his wrists lashed to the copper pipe at the far end of the radiator.

In full view of the prisoner's terrified eyes, Eddie pulls out his SIG Sauer P226 semi-automatic pistol and knowing his every move is being watched he moves the firearm around in his hands, appreciating its weight and admiring its proportions. Now he puts his hand on top of the gun's slide, pulling it back towards his chest and then releasing it so it springs forward. This action puts a round into the chamber and on seeing him do it the restrained man panics. Desperate to break free, he starts to buck and writhe against his bindings, ignoring the pain he's inflicting on himself as the nylon-ties cut deep into his soft flesh.

Terrified at the realisation that he can't get away he breaks his silence and desperately begins shouting in Greek to his comrades on the other side of the hall. Eddie can't understand a word of what he's saying, but the urgency of his pleading and the fear spread across his face needs little translation. Getting your man to start talking is half the battle with interrogation. It's just a matter of time now. Either the kid will break or the others will. All Eddie has to do now is to keep making the youngster scream out in pain until someone starts talking. His Zippo usually does the trick, maximum pain for minimum effort. Eddie tightly grips onto the man's hair so he can hold his head still, then he brings the dancing flame just under the kid's right ear. Excruciating screams of agony accompany a distinctive smell of singed flesh.

Back in the front room Alexis watches his three captives squirm and wince at the shrieks coming from the other side of the house.

Eddie takes a break and walks into the middle of the hallway so he can address all four men at the same time, “If you understand English, listen to what I'm about to say.” He pauses to light-up a smoke, “I'm not particularly interested in any of you. You did what you did because you're simply trying to make a living. All we want to know is who sent you? That's all. And so long as you promise never to come back to this country ever again, we'll let you go unharmed. You have our word.”

Having set out the deal in English he nods to Alexis, who now spells it out for them in Greek.

All four men remain silent, so Eddie returns to work on the young man across the hall. This time he pulls out a knife, and grabbing at the man's t-shirt, he half-cuts / half-rips a section out of it. The knife feels good in his hand. It speaks to him, begging to be thrust deep into the man's exposed stomach, begging to be drenched in warm, crimson blood. It takes a fair bit of will-power for the psychopath to ignore this urge. He concentrates instead on using the knife to cut the cotton material into thin strips and once it is sheathed he ties these strips around the extended toes of one of the kid's bare feet. All the time the young man's eyes are wide-open in an expression of abstract fear.

Getting out the Zippo again, with a simple straightening of his index finger Eddie flicks open its tin lid. Now he pulls his extended finger back down along the thumbwheel, igniting the fuel-soaked wick. The soft, warm flame dances slowly to and fro in its windshield. “
All set in here boss!”

Alexis has a pretty good idea of what's about to happen, “Proceed!” comes the reply.

Eddie holds the lighter in-front of the petrified man's face. The dancing yellow flame reflects in the glaze of his terrified eyes. The man starts to plead with Eddie, in English, “No!”, “Stop!”, “Don't!”

Back in the front room, illuminated only by Alexis's flashlight, the three men react by exchanging fearful glances as their comrade begins to scream.

It's a sound quite unlike anything they've ever heard before from a human being, an excruciating noise that conveys intense pain and suffering, a noise that continues incessantly except for momentary gaps where the victim pauses to gulp in sufficient air to allow him to continue the frightful din.

The man who Eddie suspected as being his young victim's elder brother can't bear it any longer and shouts out a Greek name, shouting it loud enough to be heard even over the young man's screams. Alexis nods in acknowledgment, he knows the name very well and knows it to be genuine. It's the name of a man who he's been feuding with for many years. Alexis lifts his head and mouths the word “Patéras”.