Out of the Shadows (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 1) (22 page)

Marraud hadn’t been in Russia
long but had already made significant progress and was sure the man
he saw with Salenko was playing a vital role, there was a feeling
inside of him that he couldn’t shake. He slowly got to his feet and
made sure of every inch of his surroundings before setting off
towards the safety of his flat. Taking his time, Marraud casually
made his way through the first public garden of Moscow and passed
under the ornate gates at the northern end. He glanced over to
notice the changing of the guard, and found himself several feet
away from the State History Museum. More snowfall made him look up
once more as he kept his head down and walked quickly north, seeing
the GUM Department Store ahead of him. Marraud split his attention
between a group of men lingering in Red Square, and wondering just
how Russian people could survive such winters on a yearly
basis.

Stepping onto Ulita Ilyinka
Street, the power and imposing structures of the Moscow Kremlin
began to fade. As he came to the end of a side street, he was now
some distance away from Red Square. Marraud turned a key in the
lock and rushed upstairs.

Over many years, he had seen
many colleagues’ come and go. Some had left the service by their
own accord, others had met grisly deaths, and some, in Marraud’s
mind, were most probably still alive and being tortured for
information in some god forsaken hole. Throughout it all, he had
learned to play the game, be overly cautious on the smallest of
details, and trust no one. The latter had become harder and harder
with each passing year, and the tragic ending of his relationship
with his beloved Martine had started to make him more aware of his
life and his lack of trust in the people who cared for him.

Pushing the distracting
emotions away, he slowly opened the door to his flat, and went
through his usual routine. For an instant he recognised he wasn’t
as sharp as he should be and cursed himself for growing complacent.
He made sure his senses were keenly alert to any movement or sound
as he stepped in and inspected the studio flat surroundings.
Satisfied that all was well for now, he booted up his laptop and
connected the digital camera to the device via a cable. Several
graphics appeared as the photos began to download. Marraud studied
the ten images closely and immediately loaded them all into an
editing suite but let out a heavy sigh when he realised he hadn’t
been able to obtain a clear shot of the individuals face. Despair
turned to hope as he zoomed in on another that showed Salenko
sitting down in the grotty flat and his colleague standing over
him, clearly leading the conversation. Marraud questioned whether
he was reading too much into the image ahead, but rated himself an
expert in body language and was becoming more and more convinced
the mystery man would prove to be the key to ending the threat from
Russia. As he sent his findings back to Paris for closer
inspection, Marraud studied the view from the dirty window ahead,
and planned out his next move, knowing it would be safer at night
to find out more.

Burton stood in
the kitchen and poured himself another black coffee. After
finishing off the whiskey bottle, he was attempting to sober up in
time to give his operation briefing. Despite all his hopes that the
drinking would numb the pain, it had failed to do so. As he downed
his drink and flicked the switch on the kettle to boil some more
water, Burton found his black diary in his jacket pocket and began
to turn pages, hoping to find someone he had yet to contact in his
bid to locate his family. With every passing name, his frustration
began to grow.
I work for the Government
for god’s sake; you think I would have found them by now!
He put the diary away at the sound of someone
approaching. His assistant appeared in the doorway. Burton rolled
his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Jesus Dawn, you following me around or
what? I’ve seen pigeons learn faster than you…’

The young assistant gave a
scything look to her boss and turned around to go. ‘Thought you
might like to know Mr. Elliott is in your office. He doesn’t like
to wait I hear.’

Burton raised his hands in
apology but his assistant had already left. ‘Right, I’m on it.’ As
he arrived at his office, his assistant was back at her desk. ‘I’ll
buy you some Quality Street at lunchtime or something Dawn, guess
I’ve been a bit cranky today huh?’ She said nothing and began to
sort through several stacks of paper. Burton sighed and walked into
his office. Despite his assistants mood he felt proud of himself
for shaking off the effects of the whiskey so soon. ‘Everything ok
sir?’

Elliott thrust a red folder in
the direction of the other agent. ‘POL1’s report. Makes for very
interesting reading I might add. Operation Reprisal is to go ahead
as planned.. Read it and make your way to briefing room one in
Operations Command. S.U.C.O. will be waiting for you very soon.’
Elliott paused as he moved past Burton. For the first time he
noticed the dishevelled look his colleague had and spoke in a
hardened tone. ‘Get it done.’

Olsen logged off his terminal
and lent back in his chair, still not able to focus. Ever since the
lunch with Rachel he hadn’t felt himself, and even coming back to
MI6 to carry on with his work had felt like a betrayal. He felt so
torn between the two things he loved most, Rachel who he simply
couldn’t live without, and MI6 a place where he had the opportunity
to make such a difference. What if he couldn’t leave the job? Olsen
couldn’t believe that was true, but he couldn’t imagine himself
doing anything else either.

Olsen rose from his chair and
pushed the thoughts away. The Team leader passed several
workstations and left the hustle and bustle of Operations Command
behind him as he entered briefing room one. The last few hours had
been spent researching the upcoming operation and preparing himself
for the dangers that would come. That had been the plan anyway.
Though he had got a lot done, he had never been able to focus
properly and Rachel came to him in his mind time and time
again.

He sighed to himself and
fingered his way through some sheets he had printed off. All of
them were about Poland, Cracow in particular. From his training
with Deane, he had made it a tradition before every operation he
had ever faced to research as much as possible. Whereas others
would rather work on specific skills, he felt more at ease to learn
every conceivable detail of the country and town he would be going
to. In addition, Olsen had delved through every ounce of data MI6
and other security agencies had on the Kiprich brothers. In his
hand, he carried several copies of photos and intelligence
profiles, all covering the wanted killers.

Upon entering briefing room
one; the large conference table had almost all of the team members
sitting around it, with some helping themselves to refreshments at
the far end.

Olsen noted Jordan, the
S.U.C.O. deputy team leader was one of them, and approached him.
‘Alex, have you been reading up on Cracow?’

Jordan continued stirring his
drink and looked round casually. ‘Sure I have. I know all there is
to know.’

Olsen handed him several
photos. ‘Here are a few more data sheets that may come in handy.
I’m distributing them to the team.’ He turned away and began to
walk over to Carter who had just taken a seat, but a voice called
him back.

‘What the hell is this one Sam?
The invisible man?’ Jordan held up one of the sheets that had very
little information on it. The picture displayed a standard face
covered with a balaclava, and the bare minimum of details.

Olsen caught sight of the sheet
and recognised it straight away. ‘It’s all I could find on him
Alex. We have good profiles of the Kiprich brothers and most of his
trusted allies but this one is a mystery to us and the other
agencies. We don’t have a picture, we don’t have a name either, but
we know he exists.’ Olsen tried to emphasise the last few
words.

Jordan screwed up the piece of
paper and threw it in the direction of the nearest bin. ‘You’re
imagining it. Next you’ll be telling me he has little green men
helping him out as well.’

‘Fine. Just don’t be surprised
when we run into this guy, ok?’ Olsen bit his tongue and took his
seat next to Carter, not wanting to drag up old differences between
himself and the arrogant Jordan.

That standard face, and known
killer, followed his close friend Jozef down the stairs and stepped
out onto the street. Since sending the report to MI6, London, Ferec
had noticed how happy his friend had become. He too felt encouraged
but knew it was never wise to underestimate any enemy. ‘You’re
certain this will work Jozef?’

Jozef turned round with an
irritated look on his face. ‘Of course it will work. Akira has
approved this plan personally.’

At the mention of their much
feared ally Ferec looked up. ‘Then why isn’t he here himself?’

Jozef spoke with his usual
disdain, whenever Akira was mentioned. ‘He wanted some distance
between us and said he had something more important to deal with
elsewhere. I’m sure we will find out in due course. If he needs our
help he will be in contact.’

‘Where are you off to now?’

‘I will return to the house and
inform the others. You will stay here and keep watch on this flat.
There may be other agents based in Cracow. I want you to deal with
them if they arrive is that understood?’

‘I will Jozef. Do not worry.
Give my best to your brother Gyorgy.’ He watched his friend leave
and turn into a nearby alleyway. Zoltan crossed the quiet street
and entered a small walkway surrounded by trees. He found a
secluded spot with a perfect view of Bedford’s block of flats.
Several angry looking dark clouds appeared as he took several steps
back, and disappeared into the falling darkness.

Burton stumbled
into briefing room one and noted all the team members had arrived.
He was carrying several papers and one DVD, which he handed to the
technician who sat at the back of the room. Eventually, the
S.U.C.O. commander made his way to the front, passing the large
conference style table in the process, and looked at the faces
staring back at him. In the past ten minutes, he had drunk two more
strong black coffees, and had attempted to read POL1’s report.
Burton found a copy and spread it out on the table as he tried his
best to find some professionalism. ‘Ok everyone; hope you’ve put
the last couple of hours to good use. Listen up please. I’m handing
out a copy of POL1’s report that has just come in. Operation
Reprisal is a go, after my briefing, you’ll be on your way so pay
attention.’ Burton’s trails of thought drifted at the sign of an
unwelcome visitor appear at the back of the room.

Ramsey lingered at the
doorframe, and took a seat at the far end of the conference table.
He exchanged a look with Burton and then tried to give a friendly
nod in his direction.

‘Ok…if you read POL1’s report,
you can see that he’s located the Kiprich brother’s base in the
area. Should have some images on that one.’ Burton looked at the
large display screen and waited for it to come alive. Seconds
passed but still nothing changed. An irritated Burton looked for
the technician at the back of the room. ‘Any time now would be
helpful techie!’ The screen slowly flicked on, with a detailed
satellite image displayed. ‘Ok, this is a satellite image of the
Cracow area. These two markers indicate the details mentioned in
POL1’s report. From what he says, the Kiprich brothers have a house
on the outskirts, which is here.’ Burton highlighted the area in
the red. ‘Together with a storage area, this is about two and a
half miles over to the South.’ This time the target highlighted in
blue. ‘Now, for this operation we’re going to continue to use both
Alpha and Bravo teams of S.U.C.O. Olsen, I want you to take your
Alpha team and tackle the storage area which we’re expecting to be
quite a challenge. A word to you, we want the storage bay
destroyed. Whatever he’s got in there, get rid of it. Understood?
The word has come down that there will be a 100% body count for
this operation. Jordan’s team will storm the house which should be
fairly routine for you guys, most of the key men will be asleep. As
ever, reconnaissance will come first. Make sure of your
surroundings before going in. These images are only about half an
hour old. The more detailed images…’ The display screen brought up
the same image in greater detail. ‘That’s the one. This shows about
eight men at the house and about four at the storage bay. Any
questions?’

Ramsey kept an eye on Burton
who was definitely sweating. Throughout the briefing, he had been
attempting to decipher why Burton looked so pale and unsteady on
his feet. Thoughts of stopping the briefing had entered his mind
but no mistakes had been made as yet.

Burton continued. ‘Ok, in terms
of your travel. You’ll be flown straight to Warsaw airport under
dark, and then from there a chopper will drop you off on the
outskirts of Silesia, which is the closest town to Cracow. An
armoured van will be waiting for you. It’s about 2 miles to the
target area.’ Burton looked at the two-team leaders with his last
detail. ‘Strike time is just after 0200 hours GMT. That
understood?’ No questions came to him, so Burton decided to wrap up
his briefing, feeling proud of himself to make it through. ‘That’s
pretty much it, get yourselves to the armoury and I’ll see you all
when you get back ok? Good luck.’

Ramsey gave encouraging words
to Olsen and Jordan, the team leaders, leaving himself and Burton
the only people left in the briefing room. ‘An average briefing
Burton, but it’ll do. Our mutual boss tells me your problems are
all behind you now?’

Burton switched off the display
and picked up his papers. ‘Yeah, all sorted out now sir. Cheers for
asking.’