Legacy of Sorrows (31 page)

Jack Bradshaw sat in his office at 85 Albert Embankment off Vauxhall Bridge in London, with his Personal Operational Staff around him. He was one of the new breed of M16 Directors.' His background was state school and Durham University and not the Eton educated Oxbridge graduates who had run the service in the past. He was a small, fit looking dapper man, who spent his lunch hour practising Kata in his private office in the building.

Ever since his Army days in Hong Kong, he had practised Goju Ryu Karate for his mental and physical health. He enjoyed the feeling of confidence it gave him and the knowledge that if it got rough, he could give a good account of himself. He was known as a fair man to deal with and was well liked by his staff. This was one of the situations he felt he should take a sounding from them.

He had explained the situation as he had received it from the SISI Director and the permission for the Op he had received from the Home Secretary. He missed out the bad tempered reaction from the minister regarding the unorthodox channel the Italians had used this time. Jack had kept his frustration with the protocol brigade hidden. He was used to politicians sounding off about procedures. He usually just shrugged it off: he was more of an operations type. The Home Secretary had erupted about the Italians, and how he would have preferred it if they had contacted MI5. His reaction to this was to stick up his two fingers at the phone whilst saying ‘yes sir.'

‘How do we take this forward, and who do we use? ‘Bradshaw asked the assembled group. His Depute Director stood up and with a world-weary kind of voice said, ‘Sir, with the time factor we have and the distance involved to Glasgow I don't think we have a lot of choice. I've made some enquiries and have perhaps found an answer. We have a reserve squadron of SAS – 23 SAS - based in Glasgow. It just takes the authority of the Director Special Forces to activate the on duty CTT {Counter Terrorism Team} and we could resolve this in a few hours. We have eight hours left and I think this is our best and perhaps only credible play.'

The Director turned to a staff member sitting near the back of the room. Frank, you're Special Forces, what's your take on this? Frank stood up to answer. He was conscious that every eye in the room was on him. Frank had been one of the SAS involved in the Iranian Embassy siege in 1980 and had since left the active side of the business through an injury to his leg sustained during a night jump in Columbia. It was a drug-busting op against the Mendellin Cartel and he had landed quite awkwardly causing his tibia to break and poke through his skin. Ever since then he had walked with a limp.

His knowledge of this type of operation was invaluable, as it came with the insight of practical experience learned on the job and was not just theoretical.

‘Sir, the reserve squadrons are trained to the same standard as the regular SAS squadrons. I think with the time we have we would be wise to activate their CTT as soon as possible. They have men right now on standby, trained for this type of emergency and only stationed about two miles from the hostage scene. Even so, it will still take a few hours for them to sort out their kit and weapons and for their team leader to come up with a reasonable plan. I don't believe we have any other viable options.

The Director looked round the room, ‘any other suggestions? He asked. He was met by silence from his team.

The Director thought for a few moments before reaching for the phone on his desk. ‘Get me the Director Special Forces and buzz me when he's on line.'

Eventually his phone buzzed three times.

‘Hello Tony, Jack Bradshaw here.'

‘Seems we have a job for your boys in Glasgow. Here's the down.'

Chapter 11

S
ergeant
Tommy (Jock) Wilson was a forty-year-old red haired Glaswegian. He was born and bred in Cumberland Street in the Gorbals and had joined the Army as a raw eighteen year old recruit rather than face unemployment. If truth be told, it had probably saved him from Jail. He had been a member of a street gang called ‘the young Cumbies' who, in his youth, had ruled the area around the Gorbals. Their main occupation was fighting other gangs in Glasgow using weapons like knives, hatchets, chains, and iron bars. Growing up in the Gorbals had toughened him to the point that he acquired a reputation as being a bit of a hard man, so the obvious choice for him was a military career. After his service experiences in Aden, Borneo and Malaya with the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders he volunteered for SAS selection and was badged in 1970 as an SAS trooper at their Hereford base.

His SAS service had seen him involved in many operations overseas and at home and now at his age and rank he had asked to be stationed with the Glasgow reserve squadron to assist in their training. Even so, he had never expected the duty CTT of a reserve Squadron to be activated at such short notice, and by no less a person than the Director Special Forces himself. He was full of anticipation at the chance once again of seeing some action. He realised that something very important must be going down. He looked around the duty room at the other three troopers there:

Mike Fraser a thirty five-year-old ex Para Sergeant was an Aberdonian married to a Glasgow girl, and currently working as a Postman in Scotstoun, a district of Glasgow. He had left the Paras six months previously and applied for an SAS Reserve selection course on demob. He was the most experienced of the CTT troopers and had served 20 years with the Parachute Regiment in all theatres including The Trucial Oman Scouts and the Gurkhas. By the Regiments strict rules he had lost his Sergeants rank when he was badged SAS. Jock considered him his right hand man and felt lucky to have such an experienced soldier by his side.

The other two troopers, Craig and Brian, were both 25 years old and had been in the SAS Reserve for three years. This was the first time they had been activated. They had joined the Regiment about the same time and had gone through selection together, now they sat nervously waiting on what was to unfold. Jock knew they were steady types and would come through this with no problem.

Captain Peter Bradley, the Duty Officer, came striding in with a stern look on his face. Jock could sense the tension in the air. Peter was ex regular SAS as well and knew Jock from past operations. He knew that Jock was the man to turn to in a tight spot.

The DO looked around the room to catch their attention. ‘Right lads, we've got a little problem to sort out, and we don't have a lot of time to prepare. Hence our CTT being activated. Seems like some Italian Red Brigade terrorists have taken two pensioners hostage in a nearby tenement and we have been tasked to enter the top story flat, take the players out and free them. We have just received some Polaroid snaps of the outside of the building, and we have a rough diagram of the lay out of the flat, faxed through to us a few minutes ago from the hostage's son.' He passed the snaps around the room. He then walked across to a blackboard and pinned up the diagram for all to see. ‘As you can see the flat has one lounge, two bedrooms, one kitchen and one bathroom. The bedrooms and bathroom are at the back of the building, and the three public rooms are at the front.' He stopped and looked across at Jock. You've been on similar ops before Jock. What do you think?'

Jock stood up, and walked up to the diagram. ‘How many players in there Peter?'

‘As far as we know only two, although some local boys may have joined the party. We also have intel that the two hostages are being held in their bedroom at the back here.' He pointed at the diagram with his finger. ‘They may be on their own in there so be careful on entry.'

Jock thought for a moment before saying, ‘why would Red brigades be interested in two pensioners in a Glasgow tenement?' ‘There's some business going down in Italy, 'Peter said, ‘and the two pensioners are the insurance end to make sure it comes off.'

Jock nodded in understanding before saying,' What's the time scale with this op?' ‘We need to be clear by six pm, which gives us a four hour time scale to plan, prepare, and perform.' ‘Shit Peter, we don't often get the opportunity for this type of operation, but when we do we don't have enough time to do it properly.' Peter agreed with Jock and once again looked around the assembled group. ‘This is what you've trained for, I know it's sudden but that's the nature of these things. Jock's done this a few times before, so with his experience and your training it should be a walk in the park.'

Jock turned to the group, ‘We won't waste any more time lads. We'll go down to the Armoury and draw our personal weapons and a few odd bits and pieces we may need.' Turning to one of the troopers he said,' Mike, you make sure we have enough PE (plastic explosive) det cord, and stun Grenades.' Mike nodded in agreement. Jock then turned to the other two troopers and gave them their instructions about getting rope, harnesses, and other equipment that may be needed for a forced entry.

Jock looked at his watch and synchronised all the CTT watch's together. ‘It's now two pm, so we should get kitted up and do our weapons check, including live firing, by three thirty, then meet back here for a final briefing. ‘Peter, will you have any more info for us by then?' Peter gave a shrug of his shoulders, ‘I don't know for sure Jock. I'm trying to get you a chopper from HMS Gannet at Prestwick to land you on the roof, rather than you going up the main staircase and frightening all the neighbours. So Jock I should know by then.' ‘Right lads, get your arses in gear,' said a beaming Jock.

At three thirty pm, the CTT assembled again in the briefing room. This time they were all dressed in the black SAS operations kit, ready for the off. Peter stood up and addressed the room. ‘We have a chopper waiting in the field outside. It will hover over the building, allowing time for you all to drop down onto the roof with your kit, before moving off again. Once you clear the house of bandits, MI5 will take the freed hostages to a safe house. Make the house safe before leaving, then head onto the roof again and await pickup from the chopper. Any questions? The room went quiet. Peter turned to Jock. ‘Right Jock, over to you now.' Jock stood up and looked round the room. ‘Mike, you and Brian go through the bedrooms at the back. Remember that the hostages may be on their own and frightened. We can't be sure, but be aware. I'll go with Craig through the front lounge and kitchen. We'll check our communications before entry. We'll use the Alpha call signs. ‘Peter back at HQ is Alpha Tango, I'll be Alpha one, Mike you're Alpha two. Craig and Brian you're three and four. Once we all have the PE in place on the windows, we'll detonate together. The blasts should confuse the bandits. At that point, use the stun grenades and wait for the order to enter before going in.

I want a co-ordinated entry for maximum effect. Take the bandits down on sight. Remember they may be wearing body armour so two taps to the head to make sure they're neutralised. One last thing lads, remember your training. We're going in from opposite ends of the house, so we don't want to fire on each other. Keep a cool head and don't use the coms unless you have something to say. Any questions?'

No one answered.

‘Right, said Peter, you'll leave now. It's three forty five pm, so you should be in position for around four pm. Remember my call sign here is Alpha Tango. Good luck and we'll debrief here on your return.

They loaded their kit into the chopper and then boarded. They knew the journey would only take minutes, so they immediately prepared the ropes and harness for their exit drop. They pulled on their balaclava headgear and goggles and waited. The chopper hovered over the building's roof for only a few minutes as the team quickly dropped down the ropes onto the roof, followed by their kit. Eventually when the chopper took off again, the unmistakable thud, thud of its blades went virtually unnoticed in the Corti house. If anyone outside on the street had noticed the activity on the roof, then they certainly gave no sign of it.

The team quickly split into two groups then lowered themselves down the building side to their appointed positions at the front and rear beside their designated windows. They set their PE with detonators on the window frames and then moved as far away as their ropes allowed, waiting on the order to detonate. Jock checked their status and when he was sure they were all ready and in position he gave the order.

Angelo and Elizabeth were sitting together in their bedroom with the door closed watching a programme on a small portable television, without really taking it in. They were holding hands and smiling reassuringly at each other, but were very concerned for Marco's safety and of course their own. The whole ordeal had proved to be very traumatic for them. Angelo had opened the door to the two men thinking they were new neighbours and when he was roughly brushed aside by them he had tried to defend his home. However, the sight of drawn weapons had convinced him to co-operate. Elizabeth, who was made of sterner stuff, had kicked Bari a few times in the leg before the sight of a gun held to Angelo's head caused her to give in.