Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2) (30 page)

BOOK: Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2)
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breach even the more heavily fortified complex and besides keeping
the common criminal
element
out, his
efforts would not stand up to
any real show of strength. But in many respects the common criminal
element was the real threat—no side in any civil war would risk the
wrath
of the British government
by attacking its sovereign territory,
especially as many
of the factions believed that the European powers
were just waiting for an excuse to invade their country and solidify
white rule for another generation.
Against that complex political and
social backdrop, Jack did his best.

It was watertight. Or as far as all the reports that he filed, it was
watertight. There was one small crack in the impenetrability that Jack
had left exposed on purpose. It was a vulnerability that he shared with
the
Ambassador at the time. He only
mentioned it in passing and he
gave the impression that it was not really a problem. That was intentional. If the diplomat
ever found himself in the situation where the
embassy was under attack and there was no possibility
of rescue, then
he,
his family, and his staff, would all have to fight for themselves.
With
only
minor weaponry located in the complex that fight would
have to be waged at an intellectual level. With all the normal escape
routes
closed to them Jack
situation the
Ambassador’s
tion he had with Jack. It was a long shot but Jack knew
only too well
that any
building that was intruder
proof could also be turned into
an escape proof prison—American diplomats all
over the Middle East
went through that very scenario far too frequently, and even the British
enjoyed the
odd spot
of siege warfare in countries like Iran and
Sudan. Yet curiously, preparations for a siege was not something that
Jack and his team were tasked with preparing for. It was probably the
case that
once the situation reached that level then there was very
little that could be done,
either
on the ground,
or from the centres of
power back in Europe—threats of sanctions had little effect
on people
who were desperate and penniless. Going from a
position
of nothing
to
one
of
having less than nothing is an abstract
who are
already
starving.
He
wanted
to
give
concept to people

everyone
in
the

fighting
chance,
should the country
go to hell, and if a
the wall was the best that he could do, then so be it. He
had been in
many tight situations where a hole under a wall would
have been

building a
hole under
hoped that
somehow in the heat
of the
mind would think back to the conversa

130
a welcomed sight.

There was a second more personal reason why he had
opted to
leave
a
gap
in
the security
of
the complex.
For
several
years the
embassy
had
suspected
that
one
of
their
own
staff
had
been
smuggling classified information out of the building. This situation did
not alarm the staff
in the Embassy at the upper levels as
much as
Jack thought it
ought
to have alarmed them. But theirs was a very
different world to Jack’s
world.
governments
down
or
lead
to
terrorist
acts;
the
kind
of
secrets
that
made it as far as
British
Embassies across the world were assumed to
be in the hands
of the
foreign countries from the
moment they
left the UK. The Embassies
may
have been swept for listening
devices
on a
daily
basis
but
in
most instances the security staff carrying out
the sweeps simply left
the bugs where they were—it was simpler that way—no one had to
beak back into the buildings to install new devices. When devices were
being installed that is when there was real danger to the staff—that is
when security guards got shot
or when some innocent secretary
had
her throat
cut.
Such an attitude
had alarmed Jack when
he first
encountered it,
but as
he spent
more time in the
Embassy talking
with
the
diplomats
he
began
to
see
that
it
did
make
a
kind
of
pragmatic sense,
even if he
didn’t
entirely agree with their
methods.
Still, as a
matter
of
professional
pride Jack was
determined
to stop
the leak. With the heightened security in place that job had
become
almost impossible. The flow of information may have stopped
but Jack
wanted to find the guilty
person
one way
or another—if
he
did a
good job in South
Africa then
his
masters
back in Whitehall
may
have sent him to a few
more exotic locations. Jack planned to let the
staff
know about the
escape route
one
by
one in the hope that
the
traitor would one day be tempted into using it. It would be much
easier
for Jack to keep a constant watch on one exit. Unfortunately he
never
did get a chance to put his
plan into action. He was called back
to
London and then sent on a mission to Canada ahead of a State visit
by
the
Queen—not
quite as
easy an assignment as it
might
have appeared
on the surface—if a diplomat got killed because Jack screwed
up then that would have been unfortunate, but if the Queen got killed
because Jack screwed up then it would have been the end of his career,
and possibly the end of his life.
Secrets in Jack’s world
could
bring
mass
loss
of
civilian
life
through

As he crouched down beside the wall next to the Embassy Jack
hoped that the security teams that followed him were a lot less professional than him.
As he walked around the outside wall of the complex
searching for the way
out, and his way in from all those years before
he struggled to match the landscape from then to that
of the present.
Near the corner next to the main road grew a large oak—it was a landmark that had changed little since the last time Jack saw it. It had been
planted in the last
century
by
one
of the first
homesick
diplomats
sent to secure Britain’s rights in that
part
of the world. The climate
suited the tree well and it thrived, with its thick branches and heavy
foliage embracing the hot
African sun. The rocky ground beneath the
embassy complex was a bit less kind to the great tree and the condition
of the soil
meant that the larger grounding roots had to crawl along
the surface rather than penetrating deep into the ground—the large
buildings had served as effective windbreaks
over the years and that
made up for the inadequacy
of the tree’s root system.
One large root
made its way under the wall to the other side, where it had perished
in some previous decade. The small gap left by the decaying root was
not large,
but it was certainly
big
enough to allow a
determined intruder into the complex, or a desperate diplomat with an escape route.
Although time had rotted the root a lot since the last time Jack had
been there, the hole was still nowhere near as large as what he had remembered—it was another case of wishful thinking on the part
of his
brain. Had there been any
other way in then that hole under the wall
would have remained undisturbed for many years to come.

As Jack spread his jacket next to the gap a large black snake that had
been laying in wait for its evening meal of mice and rats hissed loudly
before slithering
off at
high
speed. Jack recoiled.
He
hated snakes.
There was something
that
either they
didn’t
prehistoric about the creatures that told him
belong in his
modern world,
or that he
didn’t

belong in their world. He would happily face down an angry armed
Russian any day of the week. Jack hesitated as he dropped to his knees.
One of the few things that his experience had taught him about snakes
was that where there was one, there were always others. The gap left
by the rotting root was an ideal place for insects, then larger animals
feeding on the insects, then the snakes feeding on those creatures. Jack
did not fit into that food chain anywhere, but he knew only too well
that snakes were bite first, ask questions later kind of creatures and
some of the buggers that crawled around on their bellies on South
African soil were absolutely
deadly. Fear gripped him for a few moments
longer and it
didn’t shift until he brought to mind a different though
much more likely possibility—namely a bullet to the back of the head
from a
trigger-happy
security
guard. Like the
snakes
the
guards
may
not have been anywhere to be seen, but just like the snakes Jack
was
certain they were
out there,
bring his little adventure to an end.

He tried not to look as he forced himself into the hole. The rotting
wood gave way with ease and all
manner
of insect life fell from the
crumbling wood.
For the

more than
most
part
he imagined that the creatures

rotting wood and
dislodged
soil;
but
he
were
nothing

couldn’t
trick
scampered up
shirt. The hole smelled
of damp and decay, like an
old library
or an
ancient wood in the autumn. For a few
moments after his legs went
in after the rest
lights
from the
of his body the opening went completely black as the

street
outside were completely
obscured.
He felt a
million tiny
eyes
on
him as
everything went
black. Jack
began to
breathe a little freer when the lights from the Embassy on the other side
of the short tunnel came into view, and in his mind he imagined those
same
million tiny
eyes
turning their attention to something
else—
their
chance to bite Jack
had now
passed and it was time to get
on
with the rest
of their lives.
Once his head was up through the ground
on the
other side he pushed
frantically
to
clamber
out
of
the
hole
completely. With one last push the hole spat him out and he rolled to
a
stop at
the
base
of
the
oak.
Jack looked
up at the tree and
he
grinned in muted appreciation for what the old girl had done for him.
The cumulative tiny
probabilities
that
led to that
tree
being there
were breathtaking,
but such mathematical wonderings would have to
wait for another time—sitting
by
a roaring fire in the depths
of the
Highlands when he was an old man. Like some old guru from a Dark
Age time,
only visited infrequently
by
young
men and women from
London as they sought
out his wisdom. That no such grand old man
had ever existed in Jack’s time as a spy told
him how grand old spies
were a very rare breed indeed, if they existed at all.
somewhere, ready
to attack and

his
brain
when
some
of
that
soil
and
dead
wood
his face, round to the back
of
his neck, then into his

The moment
of triumph was short lived as Jack almost immediately heard footsteps in the near distance crunching their way through
the woodland. The carpet
of
dry
leaves and dead vegetation was a
useful
early warning system, but it would have made things a lot less
complicated if no sounds were coming towards him. He scanned the
area for a hiding place and as he did so he noticed just how much of a
mess he
had
made when he forced himself through the hole. What
was once
nothing
more than an unnoticeable quirk
of the landscape
was
now
telling
of a
major security
breech. Jack rushed over to the
opening and he began to push soil back into the hole. Twigs and dead
leaves were hastily
employed as makeshift camouflage. Even the most
dim-witted
right—Jack
guard from
security guard would notice that something was not quite

prayed that low pay and complete apathy would stop the
prying too much.
After all, the mess could have been made
by an animal and the leftover
luxury
food that
made it
into the
Embassy
bins
would
have
been a
prominent
invitation to all
the
wild dogs in the area, of which there were many. When he had visited
the Embassy the first time he overheard a meeting between the British
and Russian ambassadors. The Russian had been bitten by a wild dog
near a shopping
centre. He was in hospital for more than a day as the
doctors tested for rabies and pumped his body full of antibiotics. In the
days following
the attack several dozen wild dogs were shot around
the Russian Embassy—the incident was somewhat
of a joke in the
British
Embassy
with
the
British ambassador
remarking
that
he
wouldn’t want to get
on the wrong side
of
his Russian counterpart.
From what Jack later
found
out about the Russian, to get
on
his
wrong side was not only
deadly to wild dogs.

As the footsteps drew closer Jack dashed towards some bushes next
to the
oak. The
mighty tree was a thirsty
beast and it
didn’t leave
much
moisture in the soil
surrounding it for
other
plants to flourish, which left the bushes where he sought refuge somewhat thinning
and
emaciated.
He crouched
down and waited. The
moonlit
night
provided him with a good view
of where the hole was located but it
wasn’t clear enough for him to judge with any degree of certainty if he
had done a good enough job in trying to conceal it.
As the moonlight
provided him with a
good view
of the clearing in front
of
him,
he
knew that in turn the moonlight would also betray him to whoever

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