Michael Parker: A Covert War

Susan and David sprinted like hell into the trees and kept running until they heard the whoosh! as the missile streaked in and blew the farmhouse apart. The blast wave knocked them off their feet even though they were now well in amongst the trees.

Tons of brick debris and dust enveloped everything, raining down on them like a storm. Susan clamped her hands over her ears and just kept screaming. David was close to her but couldn’t hear Susan because his ears were ringing from his own screams and epithets too.

They lay together for a long minute before daring to move. Then suddenly Susan sat up.

‘Marcus?’ she called. ‘Marcus, where are you.’ She stood up. ‘Marcus!’ Her voice became stronger, and began to fill with fear. ‘Marcus, where are you?’

She started to walk towards the remains of the farmhouse, stumbling over the shattered masonry that lay all over the ground, then her footsteps quickened until she was running towards the house and calling out Marcus’s name.

David and Susan reached the ruin together. It could no longer be called a house; it was nothing more than a pile of rubble. The blast fragmentation warhead of the missile had simply decimated the entire building.

Susan began stepping over the rubble, instinctively making her way towards that part of the house where she knew Abdul had been tied up. It was in one corner. There was nothing there.

David took hold of Susan’s elbow and tried pulling her away. He could see that no-one could have survived the terrible blast. If Marcus had been in that room when the missile struck, there would be nothing left of him. Nor Abdul for that matter.

Susan wouldn’t budge; she remained where she was, staring at what was left. David could see the tears beginning to fill her eyes. Ironically the wetness made her eyes glint and sparkle in the dust that covered her face.

Then he heard a sound. It was coming from well beyond the rubble. Susan looked over towards the sound too. Then they both saw him; Marcus! He was covered in dust and what looked like mud. He was on his knees and waving at them.

Susan screamed and ran as fast as she could. David ran as well, but he was laughing as he ran.

When they got to Marcus they could see where he had fallen into a ditch. There was a little water in there which accounted for the mud that covered him. Lying in the ditch, seemingly unconscious was Abdul.

Marcus pointed at him. ‘He didn’t want to come at first.’ He laughed. ‘Bet he’s glad he did now.’ He looked at what was left of the farmhouse. ‘Wow, what a fucking mess!’

Susan fell on him, covering him with kisses and mumbling something about how much she cared.

Marcus just took her in his arms and held her. He had a broad smile planted across his face.

‘How did you manage it?’ David asked him.

‘You left the window open,’ Marcus told him. ‘When you climbed out after I’d faced up to Maggot. Good thing too. I picked up Abdul and, well, we just bowled out of the window.’ He let go of Susan. ‘I got about ten yards from this ditch when the bloody missile struck. Goodness knows how I managed to cover that last ten yards so quickly.’

David nodded towards the ditch. ‘How’s Abdul?’ he asked.

Marcus turned round. ‘He took most of the blast, but he should be OK.’ He got to his feet with Susan reluctant to let go. ‘Time we were not here,’ he told them. ‘There will be people swarming all over this place soon.’

The three of them helped Abdul struggle out of the ditch. He was still tied but his legs were free. He didn’t look too good, but that meant he offered no serious threat to any of them.

‘So what do you propose we do?’ David asked.

Marcus held his hand out. He still had Susan’s mobile phone in it. ‘I never even let the bloody thing go,’ he said, and handed it to Susan. ‘Better call your boss,’ he suggested. ‘Tell him we need help and a taxi for four.’

They all laughed together and Susan flipped the phone open and dialled Cavendish’s number.

Cavendish looked around the table at his guests. They were in the Ambassador’s residence in Kabul enjoying British hospitality and knowing they were reasonably safe from rogue CIA agents, Taliban warlords and Hellfire missiles. Susan, David and Marcus were the reason Cavendish was celebrating a remarkable success in his covert war against The Chapter, otherwise known to him as the CIA.

Lieutenant McCain was there as well because of the part he played in helping Cavendish to maintain a secret link to London. Without that they knew that Hudson and his crooked CIA agents there would have eavesdropped on all Cavendish’s traffic.

‘I think we’ve just about sewn everything up,’ declared Cavendish. ‘And now I think it’s time I retired. To bed I mean,’ he added hastily. ‘I just want to thank you all for what you’ve done. David,’ he said, turning to Susan’s brother. ‘It really is so good to see you. We’ll have a great deal to discuss when you’re back in London.’

David reached over the table and shook his hand. ‘Thank you, Sir Giles. And it’s been good to see you too.’ David knew that he would have to spend a lot of time with Cavendish being debriefed. He said nothing to Marcus or Susan of the intelligence he had gathered during his time in Afghanistan

McCain stood up and told them he would be leaving. He wished them all bon voyage and wondered if he might ever see them again in the future. There was an understandable chorus of denial from them.

Susan said she would be returning to the bank. Cavendish had assured her that her job was still waiting there for her. She had also been sworn to secrecy by Cavendish.

Marcus asked him why they had been targeted by the CIA. ‘How on earth were we worth being blown up by a missile? They could have picked us off any time.’

‘It wasn’t you they were after,’ he told Marcus, ‘it was David.’

The expression on Marcus’s face told Cavendish that his statement wasn’t enough, so he went on. ‘You see, we knew the CIA was involved up to its neck out here, but we had no names and nothing cast iron to pin on them. I’m afraid the senior politicians in America and in UK were in no mood to listen to my intelligence.’ He arched his eyebrows. ‘Now we know why; so many of them were lining their pockets. David had picked up a great deal of information, which he had been feeding back to me, but unfortunately we were using a military satellite which had been compromised by the CIA. They knew what David was up to and set out to stop him.’

‘The attack on the mission?’

Cavendish nodded. ‘Quite. And when Abdul Khaliq lifted him from the hospital, for his own ends mark you, not the CIA, it left them in a quandary, particularly when I made it known that David was alive.’

Susan sat up suddenly, shocked at that last statement. ‘You made it known?’

Cavendish turned towards her. ‘That letter from David was an absolute gift. I was able to use it to let the CIA know he was alive. I knew they would go after him. It was the only way I could draw them out into the open, don’t you see?’

Susan looked aghast at the MI6 man, and then at Marcus. ‘You used us?’ she said angrily. ‘Why didn’t you just tell them David was alive?’

Cavendish shook his hand at her. ‘They would not have believed me.’ He made an apologetic gesture. ‘I know how it must look, Susan, but I needed a spark; something that would open up the investigation further. You and Marcus were like manna from heaven.’

‘It very near got us killed,’ Marcus said drily.

Cavendish agreed. ‘But it got David out and back with us. And now I can wrap the whole thing up; kill the operation stone dead.’