The Wrath of Shakira Read online

  She continued “ Okay I can tell you that the Metropolitan police are dealing with the investigation side of these acts, however I have been authorised to inform you that the recently formed Operational Strike Command are at the forefront of these enquiries and are leading the pursuit of the perpetrators, now I have time for a couple of questions.”

  This opened the floodgate that is always associated with these press gatherings.

  Ruth pointed to a male reporter from her old paper her ex-boss Mike Plimmer, “Ruth; the helicopter that came down in today’s explosion was that an OSC one and were there any injuries to the occupants?”

  Ruth had learned a lot about her trade from Mike and admired the double question, “Yes it was an OSC helicopter and there were no casualties.”

  Ruth then pointed to a female reporter that she did not know, “Miss Nelson; from what you have just stated it appears we are at war with an unknown and callous adversary; how are you going to stop them if you have no Clues?”

  “We have intelligence that is being processed as well as a live lead, make no mistake these people will be hunted down in this country and abroad if necessary and dealt with appropriately. Now ladies and gentlemen I must leave as I am giving the PM a full brief on the matter,” Ruth turned and walked to the side door as reporters stood up surging forward and shouting questions.

  ‘ICIS’ Saltbox Hill

  ‘ICIS’ Saltbox Hill Biggin Hill Kent

  Lat = 51 degrees, 19.7 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 1.2 minutes East

  Within thirty minutes following the explosion and downed helicopter on Benledi Street, Vince had received a request from his wondrous creation GAIL advising him of critical Intel just received, he was now looking at a holographic facial image, “who is he GAIL?“

  “Records identify him as one Ali Hussein.”

  Vince’s incredible mind raced... “Shakira’s man whom recently escaped from Sami in Afghanistan?”

  “Correct Vince,” replied GAIL.

  “Where was this image captured?”

  “Canning town station time; five minutes prior to the explosion half a mile away in Benledi Street.”

  “Excellent work GAIL we have hit pay dirt with this Intel.”

  “Why thank you Vince.”

  Vince was sure he detected an undercurrent of contentment from GAIL’s tone, it appeared that GAIL was becoming more and more human in her behaviour, he had a beam on his face she was becoming more than just a computer.

  GAIL observed Vince’s facial expression, “your facial expression; I detect you are delighted.”

  “Don’t mind me GAIL; connect me to Strayker.”

  “Vince it’s alright to be proud of your invention!”

  “GAIL you are more than just a machine to me, you represent a lifetimes work, and yes I am very proud of you.”

  Two minutes later Vince was speaking to Strayker, “sir GAIL’s come up trumps again, guess who’s in town?”

  Strayker thought for a few moments... “Okay I have no idea, but I’m hoping you have a good lead God knows we need it.”

  “Ali Hussein; GAIL captured him from a CCTV monitor at Canning town station; five minutes prior to the explosion half a mile away in Benledi Street.”

  “I should say are you sure Vince, but I know GAIL does not make these type of mistakes.”

  “We have a ninety-five percent match.”

  “So if this dirt bags in town we can trace this back to Shakira Umbobo, can you have GAIL track down and contact Eagle Five?”

  “One moment sir, I’ll have GAIL give us an update on Eagle Five’s progress.”

  GAIL had been monitoring the call, “Hello Major, my records show Eagle-Five reported in three days ago from Brazzaville the capital of the Congo, he’s been in deep for the last six months and next scheduled contact is two-day’s time.”

  “Thank you GAIL; when he resurfaces have him give us a full SITREP and if he is any nearer his target have him hold off and commence surveillance on the target, I then want him giving us a full update every twelve hours and by the way first-class job GAIL.”

  Strayker hung up.

  Hester’s Copse

  Hester’s Copse England

  Lat = 51 degrees, 12.8 minutes North

  Long = 0 degrees, 57.1 minutes West

  Abu Wael had been sedated prior to being transported to Hesters copse the operational home of the OSC two miles southwest of RAF Odiham Hampshire the base for joint helicopter command.

  Two hours later he was just coming out of the sedation, he felt the nausea coming over him, and managed to get up and wretched into the toilet, his muscular and nervous system was still twitching from the Taser’s fifty-thousand volt charge assault upon his body.

  He sat back on the bed and casual observed his surroundings.

  The room was approximately nine foot by six foot, grey painted drab walls, a blanked out window within the door, the toilet he had just been sick into the sink alongside it and the bare bed with mattress he was now on.

  He was wearing a yellow coloured all in one cotton boiler type suite his feet were bare.

  Just then, the lock on the door snapped as a key operated it the door was pushed open; he was facing two armed figures silhouetted against the backdrop of the lighted entrance, they walked in purposefully he noticed they were wearing military fatigues along with balaclava’s shielding their faces.

  The one shouted, “stand up now and face away from us”... As he stood up, they both grabbed him locking their arms under his armpits; a hood was roughly placed over his head shrouding him in darkness he felt himself being dragged out of the cell.

  Less than ten-seconds later he was slammed down into a chair his hands then being secured behind his back and legs tied to the chair legs; he heard the two guards footsteps as they left the room a door was closed, by the sound it was a heavy door.

  Wael’s state of mind was in turmoil the room was unusually cold and with just a thin boiler suit on, he was beginning to shake as the cold enveloped his body, it felt like he was in a fridge.

  Max Storm was observing the detained man from a two-way window built into the cell, he was looking at a photo print out of the Paddington bomber, “so you are Abu Wael the bastard who started all this,” Max muttered under his breath.

  Max looked at the intelligence document from ICIS

  Name Abu Wael age twenty five years old, born Mogadishu Somalia, first came to notice of the American CIA five years ago suspected of arms trafficking but they could not pin anything on him, he was arrested two years ago by the South African Police after a racial demonstration.”

  Escaped custody and in the process killed a white Police officer, he is on their most wanted list.

  Recent whereabouts’ have been sketchy and unconfirmed.

  Max recalled the recent visit to ICIS and GAIL’S task to recover erased data; he walked over to a wall-mounted phone and dialled the number for Vince at ICIS, the phone rang twice before being picked up, “Vince Edwards here.”

  “Vince it’s Max; I’m standing a few feet away from Abu Wael our bomber, did GAIL manage to recover the erased data on him?”

  “Wait one moment Max; I’ll ask her to join us.”

  Several seconds later a female voice spoke, “Hello Max; how can I help you?”

  “GAIL; I have Abu Wael in custody have you managed to discover the missing data on him?”

  “The programme is still running Max; however I can interrupt it and establish what has been recovered so far it should only take five minutes, I can see that you are calling from room four at Hesters Copse, can I call you back?”

  “I’ll be waiting GAIL.”

  Max returned to the two-way mirror watching his prisoner trembling, he looked at the temperature of the room on a nearby
display it showed twenty-eight degrees Fahrenheit, two degrees below freezing point Max turned the nearby dial down to minus four.

  The room had been retro fitted with an extreme ability to lower and increase its temperature from down to minus Twenty-five up to One-hundred and forty nine degrees Fahrenheit.

  An extremely powerful air-conditioning unit lowered the temperature with the extreme heat coming from a super-efficient boiler system.

  The temperature of the room could be lowered to the minimum in twelve minutes and increased from the minimum setting to maximum in nine minutes.

  The phone rang and Max picked it up, “hello Max; I have been able to recover some useful data from the deleted files.”

  “Fire away Gail,” Max responded.

  “Your man Abu Wael; has a number of associates one of which you know, Ali Hussein.”

  Max thought for a moment before responding, his thoughts took him back to the raid on Shakira’s camp and the parting words of Shakira when he escaped, “you will pay dearly for this day.”

  “Okay GAIL this is beginning to add up, we have a link between Abu Wael and Ali Hussein whom has a link with one Shakira Umbobo, have we heard anything from Eagle Five?”

  “We are expecting a SITREP from him within the next two days Vince interjected, also GAIL has in the last half-hour identified the suspect for the explosion at the house in East London that took out our chopper, it’s our friendly terrorist Ali Hussein.”

  “This all fits perfectly; that bastard Shakira is up to his hilt in this bloody affair,” replied Max.

  GAIL had been listening to the conversation and cut in, “Major Strayker has asked that when Eagle five makes contact we rescind the order to sanction him and for him to now observe and collate data on him.”

  “All the pieces of the jig-saw are now falling into place, good work Vince and to you GAIL.” Max replaced the phone.

  He looked at Abu Wael whom was shaking fiercely as the cold began taking its affect; he slipped on an artic combat jacket and gloves and left the observation room walking around to the cell, there the guard opened the door; Max strode in feeling the cold blast of air assaulting his face.

  Abu Wael had heard the door open and felt the presence of someone in the room his body stiffened; he was extremely cold and with his sense of sight denied him he was anxious.

  Max leaned close to Abu Wael’s right ear.

  “Are you willing to give me the information I want on Ali Hussein?”

  “Go to hell infidel!”

  Max stepped back to the two-way mirror.

  “Look, you’re in my fish bowl now, but if you resist, you’ll croak right here in this cell.”

  Abu Wael lifted his head as if in defiance, “you can’t harm or kill me, and there are rules for you English to follow.”

  Max strode over with immense purpose with outstretched arms; his hands grabbed the lapels of the boiler suit and with his immense strength, he picked Abu Wael up along with the chair.

  His momentum smashed Abu Wael’s back into the nearby wall, “now listen here you son of a bitch, no one knows where you are, you entered this country illegally so there is no record of you, for all intense and purposes you are already dead.

  As far as the rules go, I do not play by them, but I have my own; that means I can do anything I wish to your sorry arse, so you had better wise up and become cooperative because I will tell you now, you have no idea of the meaning of Pain.

  When I come back in you had better be ready to spill your guts,” with that Max let go of him the chair jolted to the floor, he strode from the room closing the door behind him.

  Abu Wael had lost control of his bladder and had wet himself, he was terrified with the physical and verbal response from his captor, the British were supposed to play by the rules, only terrorists broke them.

  The freezing cold environment was now viciously attacking his wet groin area followed by an increase in pain levels of cold in that region.

  Max was removing his winter combat jacket in the observation room, “now let’s turn the heat up on you”; Max turned the temperature control increasing the room’s temperature to one-hundred and thirteen degrees Fahrenheit, Max looked at his watch “five minutes should do it.”

  Abu Wael was squirming under the pain of the cold environment, however after a few minutes his body was registering a rapid change in the temperature it was becoming warmer; he felt the pain from the cold receding and felt more comfortable.

  He had worked out that the room was being controlled to be cold he heaved a sigh of relief and had a notion; “their temperature control system was broken”. He could not help but let out a laugh.

  Max heard Abu Wael’s laugh via the intercom, “I know What you’re thinking, that the system has broken,” Max looked at his watch; “three more minutes and you’ll be sweltering in that room and gagging for air, so laugh while you can!”

  Abu Wael could not believe the rapid change in temperature he was now sweating profusely along with his head covered; he began gagging for air.

  Max watched with amusement, he flicked a switch and spoke into the two-way intercom, “I can’t hear you laughing now, is it because you are having difficulty breathing?”

  Abu Wael was now thrashing his head from side to side in an effort to dislodge the hood but to no avail; he began to hyperventilate.

  “You ready to talk to me now.”

  Abu Wael began to nod his head in earnest.”

  Max reached over to the temperature control switch and turned it down to a more comfortable seventy degrees Fahrenheit.

  Abu Wael was nearly at the point of passing out and had not heard the door open; the hood was roughly pulled from his head and a cup of water thrown in his face.

  The sudden shock of the water in his face was energizing but took what little breath he had left he began coughing; at first his lungs burnt with lack of oxygen and he thought he was going to die after several seconds the oxygen began inflating his lungs and he felt a surge of relief flood through his body, his breathing became more controllable his senses also registered the drop in temperature, he know looked up at the hooded figure in military fatigues standing a few feet away from him and looking down at him.

  Max watched on as Abu Wael began his recovery from the assault on his body and senses.

  After a few minutes he spoke, “I hope you know now I mean business, if you want we can take this to the next level do you want that?”

  Abu Wael shook his head and managed a garbled reply, “No... No; you win, but I need water.”

  Max removed a bottle of water from a pocket and began to slowly pour it into Wael’s open mouth and he gulped it down copiously.

  Max then went to a system of switches nearby and flicked one of them, initiating a voice recording system.

  Max also removed a sheaf of paper from a pocket, unfolded it and looked at the contents, a picture of Wael along with the details from ICIS were printed on it, again reading it.

  Name Abu Wael age twenty five years old, born Mogadishu Somalia, first came to notice of the American CIA five years ago, suspected of arms trafficking but they could not pin anything on him, arrested two years ago by the South African Police after a racial demonstration.

  Escaped custody and in the process killed a white Police officer, on their most wanted list, present whereabouts unknown.

  He allowed a few minutes for his captor to recover. Interrogation techniques throughout the world vary,

  a military interrogation causes complete emotional collapse of a captive suspected of terrorism, who then reveals names, dates and targets.

  The process of interrogation is often constrained by law in some way; however, when the OSC was set up a new law had been forced through parliament the Military Special Operations Executive Powers Act 1987; this was di
rectly relevant to Strayker’s sphere of operations, giving him the power over life and death, incarceration or freedom.

  In order to ascertain information from suspects in any enquiry being pursued by Strayker and his unit, there had never before been an Act of Parliament giving this much power to anyone in the United Kingdom.

  There was never going to be a judicial process or court case in these spheres of operations.

  Max was going to conduct the interrogation firstly Using extreme tactics that had already began with the temperature-controlled room Secondly from a position of authority and power by playing on a person’s childhood lessons of conforming to parents and those with official authority such as police and teachers.

  This would be coupled with the wearing of a military uniform.

  Thirdly the dire consequences of non-collaboration by Pumping up the fear of what might happen.

  A very harsh and brutal way to interrogate that would often produce fast results; this was no time to be mister nice guy with a terrorist whom had committed the two bombing atrocities in the country.

  “Now then my cooperative friend I need some answers,

  “Let’s start with your name?”

  “Ali Qatar”, came the reply.

  Max picked up the hood replaced it and started walking to the door, “where you going?” stated Wael.

  “Max turned, “looks like you need another taste of cold and heat, so I’m going to fetch some water and soak that hood you have on?”

  “But I’m cooperating with you,” replied Wael.

  Max said, “Cooperating maybe; but you’re lying.”

  “Don’t put me through that again, my name is Abu Wael.”

  Max strode back over to Wael and yanked the hood of brusquely causing abrasions on Weal’s face, he leaned right into Wael’s face, “now listen here you piece of camel dung; this is your last chance to answer my questions truthfully otherwise I’ll show you no mercy and you’ll suffocate in this hood chocking on your own vomit gasping for your last ounce of air, do you understand me?”