The Wrath of Shakira Read online

  The OSC’s sphere of activity was quiet simple; any terrorist organisation that threatened the safety of the British Isles or its colonies would be hunted down and destroyed.

  No courts no juries, these operations were strictly covert.

  Strayker’s unit where necessary, would conduct short duration strikes and other small-scale offensive actions to inflict damage on designated personnel and materials.

  When enough evidence and facts had been gathered and collated on a terrorist threat, Everest would make the decision to send in Strayker’s unit, however the Prime minister always had the final say.

  The Everest group was for all intent and purposes the reins that held onto the Strayker’s OSC teams. They met on a monthly basis to share Intel and review the OSC’s Progress.

  The group was made up by the following men; Jonathan Troy head of MI5, Pierce Evans head of MI6, Sir Richard Evans head of the British army, Admiral Sir Robert Fox head of the Royal Navy and Sir Toby Percival Head of the Royal Air force.

  A face appearing on the screen interrupted the television image.

  Vince Edwards spoke, “what have you to report Charlton”?

  “Well it was certainly a bomb and not a natural incident”, replied Charlton.

  “Charlton this is Strayker, can you tell us anything about the device, its make-up etc.”

  “To early sir, however it was one mean son of a bitch”.

  “Right I want this given top priority; I want to know exactly what we are dealing with here”!

  “Give us four hours sir and we will have some data on the exact cause”, replied Charlton.

  “Charlton, this is Max Storm here, get someone onto London underground I want all the security video footage for the Bakerloo line for the last twenty-four hours here like yesterday”.

  “Consider it done; it will be with you within the hour”.

  “Thank you Charlton”.

  The image faded out and the screen lifted up into the ceiling.

  “Max as soon as the CCTV footage arrives I want you on it”.

  The other two men got up, “we will report to the Prime Minister.

  “I will keep her updated as we gather the evidence”, replied Strayker.

  Bethnal Green

  Bethnal Green

  Northeast London

  Lat = 51 degrees, 31.8 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 3.4 minutes West

  Having run up the escalator Abu Wael walked through the ticket barrier and climbed the stairs up into Praed Street, he then turned immediately left crossing London Street and walked the length of Praed Street towards the Edgware road, opposite the Great western public house he approached the taxi rank and climbed into a waiting taxi.

  “East London Mosque Whitechapel road.”

  Ten minutes later, he entered the Mosque and met Omar.

  “It is done.”

  Omar grinned. “Now go to the safe house in Bethnal green road I will come to you later this evening.”

  “Allah is everywhere,” replied Abu Wael.

  Omah walked from the mosque to a nearby phone box, he dialled a long distance number.

  A man’s voice answered. “Talk”.

  “Your package has been delivered, if you switch on the news you should be satisfied with the results.”

  “If what you say is true you have done well Omah.”

  African Continent

  African Continent

  Sumbe Luanda

  Lat = 11 degrees, 9.6 minutes South

  Long = 13 degrees, 52.7 minutes East

  The man replaced the receiver; and walked over to the nearby radio and turned it on tuning to the BBC world news service. The incident at Paddington underground station was being reported giving casualties and damage information.

  Shakira Umbobo’s face took on a big smile, “Now the infidels will begin to pay,” he muttered under his breath.

  Three months earlier during the raid by OSC on Shakira’s camp in Zimbabwe, Shakira’s woman had been killed, Shakira had managed to escape in a light aircraft piloted by Abdi Khanda to Harare; where he had received medical treatment for a flesh wound to his right side of his waist received in a knife fight with Max Storm.

  Shakira had then flown to his home country of Angola to plan his revenge.

  He had two priorities, firstly to identify the Special Forces unit that had raided his camp and secondly to track down his second in command Ali Hussein.

  Shakira had met Hussein in Somalia in nineteen Seventy-seven when they had both joined up as mercenaries when Major General Mahammed Siad Barre launched the Ogaden war against Ethiopia, the war officially finished in nineteen seventy-eight but low-level conflict continued with border raids and skirmishes for years afterwards.

  Prior to the raid on Shakira’s camp’ Max had caught up with Ali Hussein in Jalalabad Afghanistan.

  After interrogating Hussein, which had resulted in Max knee capping one Hussein’s knees, Max had extracted the information of the location Shakira’s camp.

  Hussein had been put into the care of Sami Ramadin whom ran the local Red Cross in Jalalabad; and he had obtained treatment for the knee wound.

  Sami was given the task of keeping Hussein under wraps until Shakira had been dealt with.

  After Shakira, escaped Sami had been instructed to detain Hussein indefinitely.

  Six weeks into his recuperation, Hussein had managed to escape by rendering Sami Ramadin unconscious by using his crutch striking a blow to his head.

  Hussein had limped out into the streets of Jalalabad and escaped by hijacking a local’s vehicle.

  Three weeks later, he had cajoled his way back to Luanda meeting up with Shakira.

  Hussein had informed Shakira of the events in Jalalabad, Shakira had seen the English press reports reporting the raid on his camp and seizure of the bio-chemical weapons, including the remark from the Prime Minister quoted in the press; “this unit is Great Britain’s last line of offense”.

  Shakira’s parting words to Max Storm were. “You will pay dearly for this day.”

  That was Three months ago.

  Paddington Underground

  Paddington Underground Station

  Lat = 51 degrees, 30.9 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 10.6 minutes West

  Two hours after the explosion, eight Scenes of crime officers reached the scene, they were wearing protective suits to ensure evidence was not contaminated by their DNA, fingerprints or clothing fibres; they had latex gloves taped to the sleeves of the suits to be extra secure.

  They used masks over fears there could be toxic fumes left by the hydrogen peroxide explosives or even asbestos in the carriage, the final item was a hard hat to protect against falling debris.

  The power to the track had been switched off by London transport and electric overhead lights were being installed overhead to assist with illumination of the carriages.

  The tunnel vents had been shut down to stop tiny specks of evidence blowing away, sending temperatures to one hundred and forty degrees Fahrenheit.

  The SOCO’s worked painstakingly searching for clues in twenty-minute shifts initially due to the heat before returning to the surface to cool down Evidence was being photographed and collected then labelled and taken to the platform to be logged, each item having a unique number to preserve continuity and prove where it was found some are marked ‘potential health hazard.’

  White strips of paper with individual reference numbers were attached to parts of the carriage where bodies or body parts were found; amongst this, they could see the exposed beams the carriage was built on through the ripped flooring.

  The SOCO’s officers used sieves to sift through piles of glass, metal and ash searching for parts of the bomb. A magnet attached to the sieve s
eparated metal fragments from the others. Work stretched far outside the carriages that had been blown up, with SOCO’s checking the tracks for any fragments that could have been blown down the tunnel.

  This section of the Paddington line would be closed for two weeks whilst this work was being undertaken.

  OSC London

  OSC London

  Whitehall place

  Lat = 51 degrees, 30.4 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 7.5 minutes West

  Three hours after his conversation with Charlton, Max was viewing the CCTV footage from the Bakerloo line.

  He had started with the incident scene footage from Paddington underground station; his attention was now drawn to a figure running up the escalators and then walking up the stairs to street level.

  The figure was dressed in grey clothing and the face was clearly of Middle Eastern gender.

  Max rewound the footage to the platform where the scene showed this figure leaving the last carriage, turning back to it and then running away.

  Twenty minutes later Max had ascertained that the mystery figure had boarded the doomed tube train four minutes earlier at Edgware road carrying a rucksack.

  Max froze the picture and studied it there was something different.

  He run the footage forward to Paddington station and studied the figure leaving the carriage.

  “Bingo.” He exclaimed!

  The nearby phone rang, “Max here.”

  Strayker was on the other end. “Max meet me in my office in five minutes.”

  Max printed off the image of his suspect and walked up to Strayker’s office.

  Strayker was with Charlton. “Max we have a make-up of the device, Charlton you can proceed with your briefing. “Well gentlemen the device was approximately ten pounds in weight and consisted of a substance known as Amatol, Charlton paused for a moment.

  “Go on Strayker prompted.”

  “To put into simple terms, this substance is made up of Ammonium Nitrate that exists as colourless rhombohedral crystals at room temperature but changes to monoclinic crystals when heated above Thirty-two degrees Celsius.

  Max grinned. “That’s in simple terms!”

  Charlton smiled. “The Ammonium Nitrate was mixed with Trinitroluene or TNT to form Amatol; all which is needed is a simple detonation system.”

  Strayker interrupted. “And this was enough to cause the devastation at Paddington.”

  “Well almost, the persons who created this device added a little extra to give it a bigger kick!”

  “What little extra was that then?” replied Max.

  “Something very simple, petroleum; I calculate that one pint would have been enough to create the catalyst to increase the bombs effectiveness, producing the effect at Paddington.”

  “That’s one hell of a cocktail,” Strayker replied.

  Charlton turned and faced him. “One very simple cocktail sir, which in that confined area was enough to cause the initial fragmentation followed by a fireball affect.”

  “These items.” Max cut in. “Would appear to be simple to gain access to?”

  Charlton raised his hands in despondency. “That’s correct Max we have very little to go on in that direction.”

  Strayker looked at Max in expectation. “I hope you have something we can use Max.”

  “Well it’s funny you should ask that sir.” A big smile formed on Max’s face.

  Charlton looked at Max with astonishment. “You have something we can use.”

  Max produced the photo.” This gentleman I believe is our bomber.”

  Strayker reached out and Max handed him the print.

  “Are you sure of this Max.”

  Max explained the sequence of events with the man in the picture and the fact he had no rucksack when leaving the station.

  Strayker looked directly at Charlton. “Would a rucksack be big enough to accommodate the device?”

  “Conceivably; yes.”

  Strayker’s face showed relief. “What’s the game plan Max?”

  “With your permission sir, I would like to take a team and this picture down to Paddington tomorrow at around the same time of the explosion.”

  Charlton looked puzzled. “How will that help us?”

  Strayker’s face beamed with understanding. “Go on Max tell him.”

  “I have a feeling that our man left the scene using some sort of public transport, a bus or taxi.”

  “What if he had a getaway vehicle waiting?”

  “Too risky a vehicle hanging around that area at that time would draw attention, something he wouldn’t want.”

  “Right, I want you Charlton to make enquiries however remote, to trace where the materials for the bomb may have been sourced.”

  “Yes sir.” Charlton turned and exited the room.

  “Max, I have read your final report on Roy Smith’s induction training and have acted upon your recommendation, as of this morning he is now classified operational, code name Eagle six.

  Roy Smith had accompanied Max on the raid on Shakira’s base in Zimbabwe. It was his first encounter into the world of the OSC, both Max and he had been wounded in the ensuing battle.

  Roy had been with the SAS prior to this, when the previous Eagle six had been killed on an earlier mission; Max had earmarked Roy as a potential replacement.

  “One final point Max!” “No one has yet claimed responsibility for the bombing.”

  Max held up the photo. “I think we had better find this son of a bitch urgently.”

  “Okay Max, get some copies of the photo over to Vince at ICIS, maybe they can come up with some antecedents on him”.

  Max turned and left Strayker’s office; he turned right and walked the length of the corridor, took the end door on the left and descended two flights of metal rung stairs. He opened the door to his right and walked into the armourers and supplies section.

  A man in his fifties with short cropped grey hair and built like a tank was busy stripping down a weapon, as Max entered he looked up and smiled.

  “How are things in the real world Max?”

  “Believe me Johnson you don’t want to know.”

  The two men shook hands.”

  “You are going after the bastards who blew the Paddington tube station.”

  Max gave him a vacant look.

  “I know Max, it’s on a need to know basis, and even though no one has said anything my experience tells me it was a device and no accident.”

  Johnson was a former paratrooper his speciality weapons, munitions and explosives.

  “Right then Max what do you need?”

  Max lent over the desk, picked up a pen, note pad, and wrote down a list of names.

  “A dozen Metropolitan Police warrant identity cards with photos of these men.”

  “When for Max?”

  “O-five hundred hour’s tomorrow morning, together with covert two way radios”.

  Max handed the note pad over to Johnson.

  Johnson quickly scanned the names looked up at Max.

  “Everything will be ready for you Max”.

  Max left returning to Strayker’s office.

  He knocked and entered; Strayker was on the phone in the middle of a conversation, he gestured to Max to take a seat.

  “That’s correct I need to know current contingency plans for a reoccurrence of this type of incident”.

  “Are you expecting another incident?” Came the reply.

  “I believe this was not a one off”.

  There was a pause. “Well we um... Don’t have any contingency plans in place for this type of incident”.

  Strayker’s face took on a glower expression he could feel the anger welling up inside.


  However, he was too much of a professional to allow it to surface. “Well minister I would strongly suggest that someone make this a priority and I will mentioning this matter to the Prime Minister tomorrow morning”. He hung the phone up.

  “Damn bureaucrats”. He muttered.

  He looked over at Max. “One day this country will fully know of the deeds you and this department have performed”.

  Max put his hands in the air. “I never signed up for the notoriety I prefer to be a faceless entity”.

  Strayker stood up. “I know Max; I know”.

  “Anyway Max let’s do the job we are both competent in doing”.

  “Have you selected the team for tomorrow”?

  “Yes sir, we will be going in as plain cloths police officers, I have arranged the appropriate documents”.

  “Okay Max, I’m seeing the commissioner and I’ll advise him of your activities”.

  Max stood up. “I think I’ll pop over to Vince at ICIS

  and see how things are developing at his end”.

  “Take Roy Smith with you Max, you can bring him up to speed”.

  Max turned to leave. “Oh by the way Max some good news”.

  Max turned with a look of interest.

  “The rooftop helipad is now operational”.

  “That’s a month ahead of schedule sir”.

  “Why don’t I call a chopper up and you can collect Roy on the way to ICIS”.

  “Give me fifteen minutes to make the calls to Roy and the rest of the team”.

  “Fifteen minutes it is”.

  Bethnal Green

  Bethnal Green

  Northeast London

  Lat = 51 degrees, 31.8 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 3.4 minutes West

  Omar Al Bazzaz was thirty-nine years of age and had been born in Morocco; his parents had come to England when he was ten years of age.