Chris Ryan - Killing for the Company

Luke raised a hand.

‘What is it, Luke?’

‘You said the bombers were well equipped, boss. Do we think Hamas actually supplied them, or were they working on their own?’

O’Donoghue looked over towards the SIS guys. One of them leaned forward slightly in his chair. ‘At the moment,’ he said, ‘it’s hard to say. We found the remains of a weapon in the wreckage of the UK train, an’ — he consulted some notes on his lap — ‘an AKS-74U. We checked its serial number and it seems consistent with a consignment of weapons handed in as part of an amnesty at the end of the Balkan conflict. The company given the contract to collect and destroy the weapons is a subsidiary of an American multinational, the Grosvenor Group. Looks like they fulfilled one half of the contract and not the other. We’ve passed this information on to the CIA. But it seems unlikely that the Grosvenor Group would have direct dealings with Hamas, so our working theory is that the bombers were acting independently.’ The spook settled back in his chair and looked back towards the ops officer.

‘It’s not yet public knowledge,’ O’Donoghue continued, ‘but the decision has been made to commit four British Army battalions to the region. The Yanks are going in heavy, and the government wants to be seen to be supporting them.’

‘Sounds familiar,’ someone murmured.

O’Donoghue’s eyes flickered towards the Foreign Office representative, and although he said nothing, it was clear Duncan felt as negative about tagging along with the Americans as everyone else in the room. They’d done that once before, and everyone there had mates who’d died in Iraq.

The FO man clearly realised that the mood in the room had changed, so he stood up and inclined his head towards the ops officer, as if to ask if he might say a few words. O’Donoghue nodded, and the suit cleared his throat. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said in a reedy voice, ‘let us not mince our words. If it transpires that Hamas are indeed behind the needless slaughter of innocent British citizens, it will be the obligation of this government to strike back. I can assure you that our allies in America and elsewhere feel the same. It is likely, of course, that a strike against Gaza will be viewed as an act of aggression by other Muslim nations in the region — I’m thinking principally of Iran, who have voiced support for Hamas before now — and I don’t believe you need to be instructed in the implications of that.’

He looked around the room, scanning each man in turn. The members of B Squadron stared at him stony-faced.

‘So,’ he continued briskly, ‘if any of you feel at all uncomfortable about operating in that part of the world, I would advise you to start getting used to it. History tells us that events such as this follow a critical path. Unless something is done to bring about a swift resolution, we could be on the brink.’

He turned back to O’Donoghue, nodded and retook his seat.

The ops officer looked slightly taken aback by the FO man’s interruption, but he continued in the same matter-of-fact voice as before.

‘Alistair Stratton,’ he announced, ‘is to travel to Gaza in his capacity as Middle East peace envoy.’

Muttering around the room. Stratton had been popular once, even among those members of the squadron who didn’t give a shit about politics. But you don’t need to see many dead soldiers on the battlefield of an illegal war before you learn to detest its architects.

‘All right,’ O’Donoghue warned, ‘all right. Obviously now’s a high-risk time for anyone to be venturing into the Gaza Strip. The Jewish festival of Hanukkah starts on the tenth. That’s three days from now.’

A voice from the back. ‘What the fuck’s Hanukkah, boss?’

‘Festival of Lights. Their version of Christmas. One of the most provocative times for the Palestinians to make a statement. Stratton needs close protection, and the Israelis aren’t prepared to send anyone into the strip, so we’ve got the gig.’

‘Oh right,’ said the same voice. ‘’Cos Hamas fucking love the Brits, yeah?’

‘Shut up. Stratton might be a peace envoy, but he’s controversial among the Arabs for obvious reasons. In addition to the CAT team, Whitehall wants a QRF on standby in Israeli territory while the talks are in progress.’

O’Donoghue looked over towards Dawson and nodded. The OC got to his feet and took over the briefing. ‘We’ll be stationed at an Israeli military base about twenty miles from the strip. I’ve selected a four-man team to accompany Stratton.’ He looked around the room. ‘Finn Jacobs, Nigel Foster, Russ Barker, Luke Mercer. Luke, you’ll lead the unit. We’ll brief you separately and take you through the imagery.’

Luke looked over his shoulder at the others. Finn, Fozzie and Russ. As units went, it was one of the most experienced. No Flash Harrys, just good professionals. Each man looked serious as O’Donoghue took the floor. ‘You’ve got forty-eight hours till departure,’ he continued. ‘Buses leave here for Brize Norton 14.00 hrs Wednesday. Everyone to remain in camp in the interim. Squadron weapons checked, kit squared away. Each man report to your troop sergeant now. There’ll be further briefings over the next couple of days. Let’s get moving, gentlemen. Holiday’s over.’

There was a scraping of chairs and a sudden hum of noises, like a classroom at bell time. ‘Luke,’ the ops officer called, ‘get your guys together. Briefing in ten, my office.’

Ten minutes later there were six of them crowded into O’Donoghue’s office. Spread out on the table was a large satellite map. ‘The FO have requested up-to-date imagery from GCHQ,’ O’Donoghue explained, ‘and we’ll have detailed mapping for you to study in the next twenty-four hours. But this’ll give you the lie of the land.’ Luke examined the map. A long western coastline met the azure blue of the Mediterranean, and where land met sea was a strip of golden beach. From this distance, it looked look like a holiday brochure, but Luke knew that a closer look at this tiny piece of land would reveal a war-torn territory of brutal destruction. Ordnance had been hurled into the Gaza Strip for decades, destroying buildings and infrastructure beyond all hope of repair.

‘Hamas are refusing to cooperate,’ O’Donoghue told them. Now that he wasn’t addressing the whole squadron he seemed a bit more relaxed. ‘They’ve stated that they’ll fire on any aircraft violating their airspace, and that includes Stratton. You’ll have to take him in by road, but they’ll only allow a single vehicle on to their territory.’ He pointed at a spot on the Israeli border. ‘This is the Karni crossing. It’s the checkpoint closest to Gaza City, so you’ll cross over there. Tension is high on the streets. The Firm have eyes inside the city reporting that militants are out in the open, and that since the train bombings, half the young men of fighting age have joined them. There’s already been some mortar fire over the border into Israel, so these kids are armed with more than just rifles. Stratton’s visit won’t be a secret. They’ll know you’re on your way. But don’t expect anyone to welcome you with open arms.’

‘Last time someone welcomed Luke with open arms,’ Finn murmured, ‘she was charging by the hour.’

‘I like to keep your mum in business, buddy.’ But Luke’s was a half-hearted response and no one laughed. They were all absorbing everything O’Donoghue was saying. It sounded like they were going to be driving into a war zone.

The ops officer continued: ‘The RV between Stratton and the Hamas representatives is to take place in an administrative building in the centre of Gaza City. We’ll forewarn them of your route and hopefully they’ll do what they can to keep it clear.’ He looked up at the four men in the unit. ‘But what Hamas say and what they do aren’t always the same thing. You’ll need to go in heavy, lads. Very heavy. Stratton might be a cunt, but if anything happens to him, the fucking mushroom cloud goes up.’