The People Traders (19 page)

Mark sat up and looked at Garry. "You could be right there. The idiots are more interested in lounging about rather than doing their jobs." Then he grabbed the paper he'd been reading from yesterday, opening it at the sports page. "Got it, I should have thought about it earlier," he said. "Tomorrow night's the semi-final with Argentina. What's the betting they'll all be watching it? That means drink and plenty of it. Many will be out for the count, the rest lax in their patrols. We get in during the day, hide until perhaps one or two in the morning, find the girl and, if her dad's right and she's really athletic, we'll be over the wall in minutes."

With that agreed, they settled for the night; each would do a four hour watch, then the other would take over through the night until daybreak.

CHAPTER 12

The following morning, before light, the two soldiers were again on the move. This time they skirted the track, making their way down to the road that led to Sirec's villa. By daylight they were at the side of the road in a position that would force vehicles, particularly lorries, to a virtual standstill to negotiate a ninety degree bend in the steep road.

It was three hours before a heavily laden lorry swung round the bend which was suitable for their plan. Waiting for it to pass, they burst out of the undergrowth to the edge of the road and ran behind, out of rear view mirror sight of both the driver and possible passenger. With ease they both leaped on the back, climbing quickly over the tailgate and dropping into the rear of the lorry. Around them were sacks of produce, in Garry's mind enough to feed many people. Bedding themselves deep in the sacks, they lay still, hardly daring to breathe. The lorry slowed at the gates and they could hear voices.

"You're late, that stuff should have been here yesterday. Sirec's due Saturday and today we've got ourselves a party," the gateman shouted.

"It's alright for you; this bleeding truck of Sirec's is shagged. I've been in Beriz for five hours while they changed the bleeding water pump this time. When he's back I'll be at him for a replacement. All this fucking money and we can't get a decent transport system," the driver retorted.

"Well you'd better get the stuff round the back. I'll radio ahead and get some help for unloading," the gateman replied.

With that, the truck moved inside and both soldiers sank lower as the lorry approached the inner wall. This time however, they didn't stop. A short time later they came to a halt and heard voices again.

"Want some help unloading?" a man's voice greeted the driver.

"You can start if you want. I've had four hours of bloody hard driving, so for me it's a drink and a sandwich before I'm unloading this lot," the driver said, as he climbed down the side of the truck and slammed the door.

"Suits me, my drink’s getting cold on the table," the man who'd greeted the driver replied.

With the conversation finished, silence fell around the lorry. Garry sighed with relief as he had resigned himself to a shoot-out. But this seemed now to have evaporated by the driver's insistence that he went for a drink first. Looking carefully out, the area was deserted, and within seconds they were on the ground, both holding sub-machine-guns with ammunition packs on their backs. They moved quickly, entering the building at the first open entrance, and then going silently down a long passage. They could hear the sound of the driver's voice in a room to one side but they carried on past until they met a small flight of stairs. At the top they opened a door gingerly and peeped through. Out of the servant's area the decor changed; floors tiled, walls decorated. Clearly this was the servant's entrance to the main rooms of the villa.

Turning, they came back down the stairs and started to try each door. Eventually they found one that led into a wine cellar. Garry decided this would probably be the least used room. The wines were expensive and would only be used by Sirec and his guests. Moving deep inside, they turned into one of the many corridors between the racking and settled down. It would be a long wait until nightfall.

"So far, so good. We'll set explosives all around this cellar. It's central to the villa; possibly we're under the main rooms. When this blows, apart from denying Sirec thousands of pounds worth of drink, the destruction should be staggering," Garry whispered, as he opened his backpack.

Mark nodded and took out a number of charges. He moved off, quickly placing them out of sight, pushing in the detonators and pressing the radio controlled switches of each one; they were ready for remote detonation.

"When I go to find the girl it'll be your job to find the generator. This place must have one, there's no power cable to the complex so it's around somewhere. I suspect it's in the inner wall because of safety and security. Set the radio charges and then move on to communications. I saw an aerial as we got out of the lorry. It's further round the villa and we need to disable that too. The odds are they would have battery back up of some sort and cutting power would not stop them calling for help," Garry said, as Mark returned.

Mark began removing the rest of his detonators and setting the radio numbers.

"I've set the wine room for one, the generator for two and the radio mast to three. If you want a full detonation, the override is zero. That will send all codes from one to ten," Mark whispered, after spending time doing his adjustments.

Garry opened his pack and handed a bar of chocolate to Mark, then took one for himself. Grasping a bottle from a shelf and pulling the cork with an adaptor on his penknife, he grinned at Mark. "We may as well use the man's drink; after all, they won't exist in a few hours. He's hardly likely to know we've taken one. Take care though, only one between us, this stuff's quite potent and we'll need our wits for later."

Mark grinned back, before taking a long swig of the wine. "God, what I'd do for a pint of beer rather than this shit. I don't know how they drink it, the bloody stuff's foul."

Garry eventually took the bottle from Mark and put it to his mouth. It tasted alright, agreeing with Mark though, a pint would be far more appreciated.

***

They had chosen well; it was close to one o'clock in the morning, and not a soul had come into the cellar. It was time to move and find Karen. Both of the soldiers had radio control buttons for the detonators. Mark was to detonate only if Garry hadn't by eight. They were to keep radio silence until Mark had set the explosives for the generator and aerial systems. Then he would send three call bleeps to indicate setting them, and that he was clear. They would then both meet in the car parking area on the other side of the villa. They'd seen a number of cars there all day, and surmised they were probably spare or belonged to people living in the villa. Either way, with at least four or five means of transport to get out of the villa in the confusion of the explosions, escape would be simple.

The two men checked each other’s gear. Both were dressed in black from head to foot; ammunition belts round their waist and radio headsets with earphones and mouth mikes and they were ready to go. Finally, shaking hands and wishing each other well, Mark left first. He slipped quietly out of the same door they'd used to enter the villa, then turned in the opposite direction they'd come in aboard the lorry, and worked his way slowly round. On more than one occasion he ducked out of sight as a security guard wandered by. He watched them carefully; the men were amateurs, obviously relaxed and confident that their outer wall comrades would give any warning of intrusion. Often they'd be in pairs talking loudly, warning him of their approach. He'd no difficulty avoiding these men.

Soon he heard the distinct sound of a thumping generator. It was set some way back from the villa in its own cleared area. The door was wide open with light blazing out. Mark approached with caution and peeped inside. Someone was bending over the generator trying to oil something. Mark shrank back into the protection of the shrubs and watched. Eventually, whatever was the problem, the man had finished and came out from the room, closing the door after him. Mark noticed he'd left the lights on. This was a problem for Mark, as to open the door would send a shaft of light streaming out. He moved round the building and scrambled among thick growth until he was at the back. Pushing the undergrowth back, he found three thick cables coming out from the building and down into the ground. He attached the explosives tightly around the cables and pushed in the radio detonator. No matter what, the explosion would blow out the back of the building, and the resulting damage to these cables would almost certainly cut the power to the villa and perimeter lights.

Working his way back, he took his field glasses from his bag and studied the roof of the villa. The radio links and satellite dish were at the rear of the building and in the corner. He decided it had been placed there more for aesthetic reasons rather than security. In that position, which was good for him, the array of aerials couldn't be seen at the front or pool side of the villa. Climbing the side of the building was no problem. The different levels and architecture gave many footholds and wide ledges to get up to the next height. Within minutes he was settled close to the radio aerials, quickly placing the explosives at the base of each aerial, including the satellite dish. This would also destroy the cable links, making communication virtually impossible until repairs were made. He also pulled a long thin trip wire across the length of the roof. It would serve to perhaps make life that little bit more difficult if a radio-man came up, to affect repairs. With both tasks completed, he pressed the radio call button three times and then started to make his way down from the roof.

Meanwhile Garry had given Mark forty minutes and then moved himself. Fitted with night vision glasses, he crept up the stairs and into the main part of the villa. Only the outside and porch lights were on and the villa was quiet. He quickly checked each of the downstairs rooms, machine-gun at the ready, fitted with silencer and set for single shot rather than multiple. Content that the rooms were empty, he went slowly up the stairs onto a wide balcony. There were many doors off this balcony, equally spaced along the hallway. Garry was disappointed; the place was so large that going through every room would be long and tedious.

"Alpha one, to alpha two, come in, over," he whispered into the mike.

"Alpha two receiving, over."

"I need help, there are too many rooms to search, I'm upstairs on the landing, over."

"I'll be with you in a few minutes, over."

Garry acknowledged then began the search, starting at the first room. With care he opened the door. The room was empty. Then he went into the next, which again was empty. In the third room he hesitated. Two people were in bed, one was partially covered in blankets, the other, a man, had one arm hanging off the side. Garry went closer, at the same time keeping the laser sight beam of the gun on the man's body. He moved to the other side and glanced down at the other person. It was a woman, but not Karen. Garry moved out of the room and pulled the door shut. He then took a spray can from his pocket and sprayed a mark on the door. Then he heard a noise from downstairs. Falling to the floor, he waited, gun directed at the top edge of the stairs, laser beam off. Mark appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Over here," Garry whispered.

Mark came over and nodded a greeting. "So what have you found?"

"First two were empty, the next is occupied, man and woman sleeping. We'll look in one more room, if there's no joy we go and get those two sleeping, and force it out of them," Garry said quietly.

They went to the next bedroom, opening the door silently. The gun swept the room, laser beam following. The room was empty.

"This is hopeless, let's go and wake the sleeping beauties," Mark sighed.

They entered the bedroom the two people were sleeping in. Mark closed the curtains securely. Then he moved to the side of the woman, Garry to the man. They glanced at each other and Garry poked the man in the ribs with the point of the gun. Mark did the same to the woman. The man stirred, opened his eyes and stared straight into the barrel of Garry's gun.

"Move a muscle and you're dead; if you understand, nod," he said quietly.

The man's eyes, wide with terror, nodded. Mark did the same to the woman. She was on the verge of screaming but, with the gun tip touching her mouth, she thought better of it.

"You understand English? Nod if you do," Mark asked quietly.

The woman nodded.

"You know where the English girl sleeps? Nod if you do."

Again she nodded.

"Show me; but before you get up, remember this gun will be at your head. One noise or try to run, in fact anything that you try to do without me telling you, and you're dead. Do you understand?"

She nodded again.

"Then get up and take me to her."

The woman, naked, climbed out of the bed. She tried to get a robe but Mark touched the side of her head gently with the tip of the gun. "Take me to the girl, don't touch a thing or you're dead."

The woman did as he asked after glancing at her partner watching her, Garry's gun at his head. They went down the passageway, up a flight of stairs and along another with a number of doors leading off. The woman stopped at one of the doors.

"She's in here?” Mark asked.

"Yes, but the door’s locked. I've not got the key," she replied.