Ranulph Fiennes - Killer Elite

Spike responded with a sigh. “If you are thinking of taking any items with you, as per Cyprus, forget it.”

“No item, no Muscat, I’m afraid, Spike. I have great respect for your maxim in the UK but I have risked life and limb for two long years in Oman and the reason I am alive today is my maxim of self-preservation.”

Spike never wasted time in pointless repartee. “I have told you to travel legally. If you have other intentions, I know nothing about them.”

“Good,” said Mason. “The other matter is my expenses. Travel, accommodation, two thousand Deutschmarks for a gift to my RMP friend, and all incidental expenses.”

“No problem,” said Spike. “I will use your second passport to process your No Objection Certificate through Kendall’s and have it ready for you at Heathrow along with a photograph of the Welshman.”

Mason placed a further reverse-charge call to a close friend, Patrick Tanner, at his London flat. He apologized for the late hour but he urgently needed Patrick’s help along much the same lines as the previous year and involving more or less the same equipment. After some good-natured banter, Tanner copied down a complex shopping list. Most of the gear was to be had from Mason’s own safe room on his parents’ Oxfordshire estate. Mason’s father was a touch old-fashioned and did not take kindly to strange civilian friends of his son turning up to stay overnight unless, of course, David was with them at the time. On the other hand he was immensely proud of his son’s service record and any brother Guards officer was always welcome. For this reason, the previous year David had ensured a friendly welcome for Patrick Tanner by having him stand in for an actual Guards officer named Douglas Erskine-Crum, whom his father had heard of but never met. Tanner agreed that he would again present himself as Erskine-Crum, and Mason called his parents to warn them of his arrival the following evening. He would be needing a bed but no breakfast, as he must leave in the small hours for Scotland.

Patrick Tanner’s alarm sounded at 4 a.m. He left a thank-you note to the Masons on his bedside table and descended to the study for the safe-room key. David had told him exactly where to find it. Quietly, lest David’s father should be a poor sleeper, he unlocked the heavy safe-room door, disabled the inner alarms and, with admiration and a touch of envy, surveyed the guns that lined the walls. He was thankful for the checklist David had given him the previous year. On that occasion he had retrieved the Colt Python. 357 Magnum revolver.

There were a number of shotguns-. 410s, 20-bore and 16-bore-but the prize items were a pair of 12-bore Purdeys with thirty-inch barrels and made in the 1920s, the best period for English game guns.

Patrick smiled as he read through the checklist. David was a connoisseur. The list was almost a homily: S amp;W. 45 ACP Auto, 9 shot. Good auto, quick firing, etc., but like all autos is more prone to jamming than a revolver. Walther PP. 32 caliber. Excellent small auto, but needs very accurate shot (or 2 to 3 rounds) to stop quarry. Any pistol with a smaller caliber than this is frankly of no use for anything other than firing into one’s mouth if one needs a new tooth filling. Walther. 22LR Semiauto rifle with sound moderator (silencer) for vermin (ideal for rabbits). Colt Python. 357 Magnum Revolver. Heavy and deadly accurate. I get four-inch groups at 100 yards. The best revolver made. Fires heavy 160-grain slug. Stephen Grant. 22 Hornet For slightly larger vermin. Deadly accurate up to 120-150 yards, then trajectory falls off quickly. Converted by J. Rigby amp; Co., from the original. 250 “rook rifle” caliber. Parker-Hale. 243 Rifle. Cheap but accurate. Good flat trajectory for vermin out of range of. 22 Hornet. Rigby. 275 Mauser action rifles. I have three of these, one with an extra-long barrel and two with standard barrels. Superb rifles, ideal for deer-stalking. One has a Zeiss 4? 40mm scope, one a Pecar 4? 30mm, and the long-barreled one has open sights only. Daniel Frazer. 303 Double rifle. Collector’s item. Very accurate. Rigby. 350 Magnum Mauser action rifle. Oldish (1920s). Very reliable. Open sights. For big game. Rigby. 375 H amp;H Magnum Rifle. Converted from. 350 special (an obsolete caliber). Marvelous rifle-will stop just about anything. Kick like a mule. 1.5-6? 40 Zeiss scope. Pair of Purdey. 450 Double rifles. Collector’s items (turn of the century). Rigby. 470 Nitro Express Double rifle. Fantastic weapon. Beautifully made (c. 1930). Mint condition-very valuable. Will stop anything. Makes a noise like a nuclear explosion when fired (500-grain bullet @ 2,150 fps). You will notice from the above that most of my rifles are made by John Rigby amp; Co. For a century now they have in my opinion been the best riflemakers of all (they still are) although in terms purely of accuracy rather than quality of workmanship there are quite a few other good names. Those are the rifles and handguns I have at the moment. As far as military weapons are concerned, my favorite is the Russian AKM assault rifle (brilliantly simple, no-nonsense design, never jams, small and maneuverable, lightweight ammo, etc.), and my least favorite is anything that has been issued to the British Army since they replaced the. 303 Lee Enfield rifle and Bren LMG, with the honorable exception of the L42 sniper’s rifle and to some extent the GPMG, although both would be better if they used. 303 ammunition modified to rimless, instead of. 308 Winchester (7.62mm NATO). The SLR, the Sterling SMG and the Browning 9mm “Hi-Power” auto pistol are all badly designed, fault prone, bloody awful weapons, although the silenced version of the Sterling has its uses…

Patrick folded away Mason’s note, unclipped the. 22 Hornet from its rack and removed sufficient materials and tools to make up ten rounds of. 22 ammunition from a box in the drawer immediately below. He selected a hardened-plastic rifle case from the relevant rack and spent the better part of an hour centralizing the smaller items on David’s ancillaries list. Finally he removed a battered brown suitcase containing clothing. Not all the gear Mason had requested was in evidence but Patrick had put together a shopping list to attend to later in the day. He replaced the keys, let himself out of the house and drove his VW camper as quietly as the gravel allowed down the driveway of Eynsham Park.

At 5 p.m. on March 4, having handed over his duties as early as was feasible, David Mason left Wavell Barracks in a hurry. He was technically seven hours AWOL since his two weeks’ leave did not officially begin until midnight. Fifteen minutes later he arrived at Checkpoint Bravo, entry point to the Berlin Corridor, and frowned with irritation at the line of cars awaiting document checks. He jumped the queue and flashed his ID card at a queuing burgermeister type who showed signs of indignation. The RMP duty warrant officer was immediately on hand and Mason passed him the two-thousand-Deutschmark traveler’s check to which he had previously agreed in return for keeping a space for 4:30 p.m. for Mason’s green Porsche 911, British Forces Germany registration number EZ 242 B. The warrant officer took details of Mason’s BFG license, his ID, and Green Card insurance cover. The Berlin Corridor system was rigidly controlled to ensure that no driver had time to spare, after leaving the checkpoint at either end of the corridor, to leave the road for nefarious purposes, such as smuggling locals to the West.

The regulations also ensured that no speeding could take place by stipulating a minimum time limit of two hours for the hundred-mile drive. Mason left the checkpoint at 5:30 p.m., not at 4:30 as stamped on his pass by the warrant officer. He was therefore able to average a hundred miles an hour along the potholed corridor and still arrive at the “correct time” of 6:30 p.m. at the Helmstedt Volkspolizei checkpoint out of East Germany.