Red Mercury Read online

  Title Page

  RED MERCURY

  A Max Storm Novel

  by

  MW Fletcher

  Publisher Information

  Published in 2014 by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  The right of MW Fletcher to be identified as the Authors of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998

  Copyright © 2014 MW Fletcher

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  Quote

  “If you look too deeply into the abyss, the abyss will look into you.”

  Friedrich Nietzsche

  15 October 1844 – 25 August 1900

  1

  Secret WPF

  Fifteen miles south

  Chapayevsk

  &

  600 miles east by south east

  Moscow

  USSR

  Lat = 52 degrees, 52.6 minutes North

  Long = 49 degrees, 36.6 minutes East

  Thursday 3rd August 1989

  Twenty one sixteen hour’s local time.

  The Russian secret weapons production facility (WPF) was located a mile down an asphalt road just of route P226, south of Chapayevsk; the entrance was through a security gate with armed guards.

  As far as the outside world was concerned this was just another typical Soviet military base.

  There were twenty outer buildings; however, the main production facility was underground.

  The man in charge was a Russian scientist named Nikolay Demyanov, he was a short stocky man born in 1938 in Moscow.

  He had a balding head with wispy hair on the sides, along with a pair of oval style glasses and he had been working at the WPF for the past ten years.

  One of his colleagues knocked on his office door, Nikolay spoke in Russian, “enter”.

  A man opened the door and walked into his office and said, “sir; everything is ready to go!”

  Nikolay replied, “I will be with you in a few minutes, Alexey!”

  Several minutes later a container was being loaded onto a truck under the watchful eye of Nikolay, a man approached him known to Nikolay as Ivan Balagula.

  Balagula said, “Remember not a word or your family will suffer Nikolay!”

  Nikolay replied, “I have done my job; you assured me my family would be safe?

  Balagula replied, “Once I have this container on the plane, then you and your family are out of it.”

  Nikolay replied. “Just be very careful with the contents, if the Red Mercury falls into the wrong hands the world will pay a heavy price!

  Balagula gave him a smile and a cursory salute and then walked back to the truck.

  Ten minutes later the truck was heading north east on route P226 destination Moscow.

  2

  Air space thirty eight thousand feet

  Above the North Atlantic Ocean

  Lat = 38 degrees, 24.5 minutes North

  Long = 59 degrees, 18.9 minutes West

  Friday 4th August 1989 (The following day)

  Twenty three forty-nine hour’s Local time.

  The Boeing 747-244B flight number BA-323 is a combi- variant, of the aircraft that permits the mixing of passengers and airfreight on the main deck, the aircraft was carrying, six pallets of cargo along with the passenger’s baggage, that had been loaded on to the aircraft at Heathrow.

  Class B cargo compartment regulations mean; there is sufficient access in flight to enable a crewmember to effectively reach any part of the compartment with the contents of a hand fire extinguisher.

  When the access provisions are being used, no hazardous quantity of smoke, flames, or extinguishing agent, will enter any compartment occupied by the crew or passengers.

  There is also a separate approved smoke detector or fire detector system to give warning to the pilot or flight engineer station.

  The aircraft had a crew of nineteen along with one hundred and forty passengers and was now, five hours and ten minutes out from Heathrow airport, with a flight time of six hours twelve minutes.

  Destination Washington Dulles International Airport USA.

  The smoke alarm broke the calmness of the cockpit.

  The captain looked at the instrumentation, noticing that it was indicating smoke alarms from the cargo area, on the main deck had been activated.

  He jumped into full alert mode and cancelled the fire alarm.

  The co-pilot flicked a switch that operated the phone in the gallery area of the aircraft; a steward picked the phone up.

  The co-pilot said, “We have a fire alarm signalling smoke in the cargo area, take a look?”

  The steward replied, “I am on it.”

  Captain Roger Preston contacted Dulles airport, “Dulles; this is British Airways three two three.”

  The air traffic control at Dulles replied, “Three two three, good evening go ahead.”

  The Captain replied, “Good evening, we have, a smoke problem and we’re doing an emergency descent to level, one five zero, over.”

  “Confirm you wish to commence a descent to flight level one five zero?”

  “That is correct Dulles.”

  “Roger, you are clear to descend immediately to flight level one five zero.”

  “Roger, we will appreciate it if you can alert the fire services, over.”

  The air traffic controller replied, “Do you, eh, request a full emergency?”

  The Captain replied, “that’s affirmative, Dulles.”

  “Roger three two three, I will declare a full emergency.”

  Back in the cargo hold, area the steward had picked up a fire extinguisher, from the wall located by the cargo door.

  As he entered the room, it was already filling with smoke and he could see flames emitting from behind some of the pallets.

  The Steward operated the fire extinguisher, directing it at the flames, he emptied the fire extinguisher, however the flames continued to burn, he went back out and grabbed another one; repeating the process.

  By this time, the flames were filling the rear area and were reaching the ceiling.

  The steward retreated from the cargo room closing the door behind him.

  Some of the smoke had entered the passenger cabin area and some passengers were beginning to show signs of stress, which began to infect the other passengers.

  The steward phoned through to the cockpit, the interphone chimed and the co-pilot answered.

  “What’s the situation back there?”

  The steward replied, “I have emptied two extinguishers on it, but its continuing to burn.”

  The co-pilot thought for a moment and replied, “Try again with some more fire extinguishers.”

  The steward replied, “Okay, I’ll see what I can do; the passengers are beginning to see some smoke, from the rear of the plane.”

  “I’ll make an announcement and try and reassure them.”

  The steward replaced the phone, picked another extinguisher up, and headed for the cargo hold.

  The co-pilot spoke into the Comms, “This is your co-pilot, we have a smoke prob
lem in the cargo area, please follow the cabin attendants to the front of the plane.”

  The co-pilot relayed the information to the Pilot, who said, “read of the checklist.”

  Just at that moment, there were two pops from the breaker panel, followed by some of the electrical systems in the plane that began short-circuiting.

  The co-pilot began reading the checklist, “Duct insulation ventilation switches... open. Top valve switches... all open. Recirculating fan switches... on.”

  The checklist also advised the captain to begin an emergency descent, but this was not possible; as the plane was still too far out from Dulles airport.

  The captain checked the altimeter that showed they were at 25,000 feet.

  He took control of the aircraft and began a very deep descent to 15,000 feet.

  Captain Preston contacted Dulles air traffic control, “Dulles this is BA three, two, three, over.”

  “Go ahead BA three, two, three.”

  “We have a fire in the cargo hold Dulles; attempts to extinguish it have proved negative so far.”

  “Request your actual position please and your DME distance?”

  The captain replied, “We haven’t got the DME yet.”

  “Roger and your actual position please.”

  DME stands for Distance Measuring Equipment, which allowed the plane to calculate how far it was from the airport.

  “Captain Preston replied, “We have now lost a lot of electrics, we haven’t got anything on the aircraft now.”

  “BA three, two, three, do you have an Echo Tango Alfa to Dulles please?

  “ETA Forty-five minutes, Dulles.”

  The captain turned to the co-pilot and said, “Go to the back, take the fire extinguisher and give it to the steward and come back here!”

  Without question, the co-pilot popped the cockpit Halon 1211 extinguisher and bolted out the door.

  Because of the steepness of the planes angle, he found it difficult to walk, feeling like a walk up a steep hill.

  When he eventually reached the cargo area, he handed the extinguisher over to the steward and walked downhill back to the cabin.

  Inside the cargo area, the conditions were very hot and harsh as the steward approached the fire; he began to douse the flames.

  The hydrochloric acid was strangling him, the heat was burning him, and the one of the pallets was catapulting molten pieces of iron at him.

  He quickly abandoned the dousing and he exited the cabin area, coughing and sputtering.

  Smoke and acid had scorched his lungs, and he was now in no condition to do anything.

  After a demanding seven minutes and twelve seconds, the smoke had filled the aircraft, many passengers were falling unconscious as soot and acid began building in their tracheae.

  The captain was left with one last item on his checklist.

  Approaching the breathable altitude of 14,000 feet, the checklist suggested a very dangerous procedure that few pilots have ever performed

  The captain said, “We need to open the door!”

  At 14,000 feet, the difference in pressure on the outside and inside was enough to force the air out quickly, but not dangerously.

  The air outside would be chilly, but breathable.

  The captain looked down at his speed; it showed three hundred and twenty knots.

  To open the door the airspeed needed to be below two hundred knots; even then, this would be the equivalent of an F4 devastating tornado.

  The captain had a choice of which was the lesser of the two evils; the tornado was the lesser of the two.

  He immediately pulled back on the thrust, to lessen the aircrafts speed.

  As the airspeed reached two hundred knots, he ordered his co-pilot to leave the cockpit and open the door, on the upper deck.

  Captain Preston spoke into the interphone to the passengers, “this is the captain speaking, we are going to open an entry door to clear smoke from the cabin. Do not panic; you will be much more comfortable once we complete this procedure.”

  Captain Preston immediately strapped on his pilot’s oxygen mask.

  Upon reaching the door on the right side, the co-pilot turned the red handle to unlock the door, and pushed it open as slightly as possible.

  Immediately, there was a loud bang, and it seemed like all the wind in the world was blasting throughout the aircraft. Everybody’s ears popped, and the blinding smoke flushed out.

  The passengers still alive took their first breath of fresh air in what seemed like forever.

  Many of them were now coughing out the soot, immediately feeling more revitalised.

  They felt like they had the strength to survive, but they were still quite depleted of energy.

  The co-pilot rushed back to the cockpit, with the fresh icy air rushing in behind him.

  However back in the cargo hold, the rush of fresh oxygen was feeding the fire.

  The captain spoke into his Comms, “Dulles this is three, two, three, do you copy?”

  The Air traffic controller replied, “Affirmative, three, two, three.”

  “Dulles I estimate we are one hundred miles out, request clearance and weather, over.”

  “Roger three, two, three, I have you on radar and your cleared to level five zero, repeat five zero. The wind is two-one-zero degrees zero-five knots. The visibility above two-zero miles, with cloud base at one thousand feet, runway thirty, that’s three zero, is cleared for you, over.”

  The captain acknowledged the information and said he would radio again when they got to five thousand feet.

  Despite smoke building in the cabin again, it was actually breathable and would be until landing.

  The plane had endured a massive heated torment; the fire was unable to breach through the fuselage of the plane because, the cool outside air chilled the heated aluminium so much that it could not rip.

  The surviving passenger had inflamed throats and sore eyes.

  As the fire raged the fumes of hydrochloric acid were eating away at the skin, as a result a hole was created by this process and reached a critical point.

  The tail, without the support of enough aluminium, was too heavy to keep attached to the plane; suddenly cracks emitted around the tail and converged on the hole and the tail ripped apart.

  Without the stability of the tail, the rest of the plane shook itself apart, the nose, with most of the people in it, plunged like a bullet.

  A minute later, the three main pieces of BA-323 plummeted into the Atlantic Ocean; the force of the impact ensured no one survived.

  At Dulles airport, the air traffic controller had observed the disappearance on his radar of the BA-323.

  “Three, two, three, Dulles.”

  There was no reply.

  The air traffic controller repeated the transmission,

  “Three, two, three, Dulles”

  The airwaves remained silent.

  3

  Piccadilly Circus

  City of Westminster, London

  Lat = 51 degrees, 30.6 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 8.1 minutes West

  Saturday 5th August 1989 (The following day)

  Twenty-three thirty-nine hours BST

  Piccadilly Circus is a road junction and public space of London’s West End in the City of Westminster, built in 1819 to connect Regent Street with the major shopping street of Piccadilly.

  The evening’s weather had started pleasantly with some glorious sunshine; half an hour ago, a short sharp shower had hammered down for several minutes creating a humid atmosphere.

  Approaching the junction from Shaftsbury Avenue was a Black Ford Sierra Cosworth RS-500, being driven by Ruth Nelson with her passenger and lover Max Storm.

  Ruth was twenty-five
years of age with her twenty-sixth birthday coming up in October.

  She had been educated at The Raphael Independent School Hornchurch, and had left at seventeen years of age with nine ‘A’ levels.

  She had taken up a post-graduate journalism course with The National Council for the Training of Journalists.

  Ruth was tall for a female five foot eleven with red hair that denoted her fiery spirit. Her figure was slim with lively well-rounded breasts and a nice pert bum; she was not the sort of girl you failed to notice.

  Eighteen months previously, whilst working as a high profile reporter she had witnessed a gun battle in Bromley Kent, when two men had targeted Major General Strayker.

  This had resulted in an OSC unit intervening in a helicopter quickly followed by Police units resulting in a Mexican style standoff between the Police and OSC.

  This incident had resulted in a news blackout; however, Ruth decided to investigate this apparently new-armed military unit. Subsequently she had followed Strayker to Saltbox Hill near Biggin Hill, the secret location for ICIS Intelligence Collating Information Services.

  She had been tranquilized from a rifle shot; and when she had awoken, she found herself in a cell.

  Ruth had been offered a deal to quit her current position and join the OSC as their press envoy, a deal that she had accepted.

  A strong bond had grown between Max and Ruth over the coming months, with two occasions when Ruth had been abducted by groups targeted by the OSC.

  Max Storm was the operational leader of the OSC operational code name Eagle 3, a former Royal Marine commando and special boat service (SBS) soldier.

  He stood six feet tall, aged twenty-five with sweptback jet-black hair, his eyes were black an inheritance from his mother whom had been a native of Puerto Rico and he weighed in at one hundred and eighty-two pounds.

  The cars headlights picked up the famous statue of Eros that was centrally located at the junction and was the first in the world to be cast in aluminium and set on a bronze fountain.

  As Ruth brought the car into the junction, numerous illuminated Neon signs were displaying advertisements for a number of famous companies and their products.