SAS Para-Ops: MEGA SET - SAS Para-Ops Books #1, #2, #3, #4, #5 & #6 Read online

  This time it’s the young red head that blushes. Making her look innocent and even more attractive.

  “Well mister perhaps I’ll see you around some time.” And she turns and walks to a customer who had been demanding her attention.

  Well, well, Mark thinks to himself. Life isn’t that bad after all.

  He looks at his beer in front of him and decides that he won’t have it. He doesn’t need it. He stands and puts his hand on his suit jacket ready to remove it from his chair. Just then he notices James, a friend of a friend he had met at a work do a couple of weeks earlier. He was a friendly fellow with a quick smile and a childish grin. He walks past Mark a few paces in front of him heading towards the Tube Station entrance. Mark calls out to him but to no avail.

  Mark’s mobile phone rings. It’s from an unknown number. He answers the call.

  “Hello?

  “Mark. It’s John, mate.”

  “John, ha-ha, how are you my friend? Everything all right? We’re still on for tonight aren’t we?”

  “We’ll see. Sit down won’t you?”

  “Sit down, why?

  “Just sit down my friend. Trust me. And do it now!”

  “What? But I was just going to say hello to a friend and then I’ve got to meet Amelia at the cinema..”

  “Sit down!! Now. Please Mark. Now sit down.”

  Almost without consciously thinking about it he sits. His jacket now on. He instinctively realises something is very unusual about this call – aside from the fact that his best friend is commanding him to sit down. John’s voice seems concerned, sad, troubled yet full of authority and sincerity. Mark hears his subconscious tell him:

  Listen to John.

  FIVE

  “Okay, I’m sitting.”

  “Good. Do you have your blue tooth head set with you?”

  “Yes, of course, I always do, I use it at work.. John what’s this all..”

  “Put it in. Now. Quickly. We don’t have much time” commands John, cutting across Mark mid-sentence.

  Mark does what he is told and within moments he has reached into his jacket pocket and removed his trusty ear piece and inserted and activated it. He places his Blackberry into his hip side phone holder.

  “It’s in. Now please tell me what the hell is going..”

  CRACK!

  CRACK!

  “Can you still hear me Mark?”

  “Yeah.. yes but what is that noise, what’s...”

  “Please Mark be quiet now and just listen and do exactly what I say. Trust me my friend. I cannot explain right now what is happening but in time things will become clearer. Now finish that beer, drink all of it!”

  “What? No? You’ve gone mad John…”

  CRACK!

  Then Mark sees something. But it can’t be can it, really be? He sees figures, small figures dressed all in black and they are shooting guns. They are shooting people with machine guns. He sees his friend, James, again, but why is he on his knees and what’s he holding?

  CRACK!

  CRACK!

  Then he sees that James has a little girl in his arms, she’s limp, she’s dead. Then he notices James put the little girl next to the body of a woman and another two little kids.

  CRACK!

  Time starts to slow down. Mark thinks he is going deaf. He sees James get up now. He sees him turn and charge the small figure all in black who had been firing a machine gun. He must have been the one that killed them. Mark looks at the small figure now and sees he’s holding a video camera. Pointing it at James. Then with his other hand he raises his machine gun once more and fires. But Mark doesn’t see what happens next as it’s chaos now. People are running everywhere. Running and falling and dying.

  CRACK!

  “Mark. Mark. Marcus, Hear me.”

  “Yes, yes I can hear you but who is this? What’s going on?”

  “You know who it is. It’s John. Your friend. You are in shock… Because London is under attack by terrorists.”

  “The little boys dressed in black with the machine guns, are .. terrorists? but it can’t be I have to go watch a movie with my Amelia and then I’m meeting John at the Boisdale..” said Mark.

  “They are not little boys. They are highly trained men. And they are not carrying machine guns - they are carrying AK47 assault rifles. And your job today is not to watch a movie with Amelia but to save Amelia’s, and many other people’s, lives. And the only way you are going to do that is if you listen to exactly what I say! Now be silent, be very still for the moment and listen to me. Or let Amelia and many others die.”

  SIX

  Charlie Whisky Three. That’s Charlie Whisky Three of the Charlie Whisky attack element – Four men in total per element. Three elements in total. Charlie Whisky is code for Canary Wharf. And Charlie Whisky’s job is to drive back, kettle and cut down and kill as many bankers within the Canary Wharf district as possible.

  Charlie Whisky Three keeps replaying his orders over and over again in his mind in the vehicle on the way to Charlie Whisky’s drop off point where they will commence their attack.

  The DOP is Bank Street as it becomes Heron Quays. It’s perfect for their designs as it’s right alongside the entrance to the Canary Wharf Jubilee Line Tube Station. Their attack will force the bankers back into the underground and back into the shopping centre. Where they can be killed like rabbits in a hat.

  “Open fire, shoot in small bursts and kill everything and everyone in sight. Drive them Underground and into the shopping centre and our comrades will do the rest” were the words of Charlie Whisky Three’s Team Leader Charlie Whisky One. None of the Charlie Whisky Element Members had ever met before or even knew each other’s names. They are simply Charlie Whisky One, Two, Three and Four. They came together for the first time only one hour earlier in an abandoned warehouse in the Docklands of the East End. And already had their full face mask balaclavas on, covered by thick winter jackets and hoodies – not out of place in the freezing December temperatures and in the current yob climate. They had no idea what each other physically looked like. The only characteristic that could betray their collective identity was their diminutive size. They were all under 5.5 foot tall and were slightly built. And as per their training only Charlie Whisky One said anything at all.

  Charlie Whisky Three did not like his Team Leader. In the short time he was in his presence he came to realise that his commander was a madman, a psychopath. But then what was Charlie Whisky Three? He was about to gun down innocent, unarmed civilians. And why? This was not what he had joined the army for. But he was here. Now. And if he did not play his part he would be killed. And as promised by Charlie Whisky One his family would also be killed. Raped, tortured and murdered.

  “Open fire, shoot in small bursts and kill everything and everyone in sight. Drive them Underground and into the shopping centre and our comrades will do the rest.”

  He looked to the front seat and noticed Charlie Whisky One pull out a video camera from his satchel. “With this my brothers we will show the world how the brotherhood deals with infidels and capitalists! Today the world will change and we will be the cause of that change- at the end of this day there will be Many Dead Bankers.”

  The driver of the vehicle, Charlie Whisky Two laughed. He laughed long, loud and hard.

  Moments later Charlie Whisky One spoke once more.

  “We arrive in less than a minute and our mission has already been successful my brothers. We have fooled their intelligence agencies and bypassed their border controls. We have smuggled weapons into their weapon-free country and we have driven through their streets with complete freedom while being armed and war ready. Now is the easy part. We will meet no resistance – their police don’t even carry guns. And we will be victorious. Now load your weapons and prepare to kill and remember your initial orders, after that just shoot.”

  Charlie Whisky Three did what he was told and loaded his 30 round magazine into his AK47 assault rifle and cocked it. He glance
d across the back seat and saw Charlie Whisky Four do the same thing. Then he checked his webbing – it contained nine more magazines – giving him and each of his comrades 300 rounds of ammunition to slaughter with. They each had a small bag on their hip and in each container were five grenades. Each man wore heavy kevlar armour – on their legs, arms, torso and neck. The only parts of their bodies exposed and easily vulnerable to gun fire were their faces and skulls.

  Seconds later and their people carrier stopped on Heron Quays. In the middle of the road and across it diagonally. Blocking traffic from both directions as per instruction. Charlie Whisky Three’s first order of business was to kill the driver of the vehicle on his side of the street to further ensure a road block with the dead person’s car.

  He exited the people carrier and looked on in shock as a London Black Cab failed to stop in time and crashed into the driver’s side of their vehicle. He saw that the hood of the people carrier had come clean off and had been pushed forward through the windshield and had decapitated Charlie Whisky Two.

  But before he could even properly register what had just happened his two comrades opened fire. Unleashing death and mayhem in the busy street. Charlie Whisky One killed the London Cabbie, spraying his AK through the airbag that had cushioned the taxi driver’s impact, sending blood and brains into the vehicle, staining the life saving device. Charlie Whisky Four on the opposite side of the vehicle had done his job and had killed an elderly driver of a station wagon vehicle.

  Charlie Whisky One had done Charlie Whisky Three’s job for him. And Charlie Whisky Three was relieved. No way for a terrorist to think or feel, he thought to himself. But he was scared. In fact, he was shitting himself. Not because he was afraid of dying but because he was afraid of killing. Now Charlie Whisky One glared at him. Angry. And Charlie Whisky Three swore to himself that his terrifying commander had just read his thoughts.

  “Now move forward brother comrades. And kill. Kill, Kill!” said Charlie Whisky One.

  With that Charlie Whisky One and Charlie Whisky Four moved, firing their weapons. He was rooted to the spot and couldn’t move. His rifle lay at his side harmless. He noticed the bankers and the civilians. He was astonished that the majority of them hadn’t seemed to have noticed the car accident or the firing of the guns. The people who evidently had noticed stood still and looked at them with their mouths open. Most continued to walk on as usual, either talking on their phones or listening to music on their headphones. Are these people so cut off from the rest of the world that cars can collide and people can die mere metres away from them and they don’t even notice? Charlie Whisky Three thought to himself.

  Slowly though, people started to realise what was happening. Charlie Whisky Three looked at One and noticed his actions - after the initial burst of fire and a dozen people lay dead on the floor before them and in front of the busy tube station. He saw that One lowered his weapon and raised his camera. But what was he focusing on? He looked where One was pointing the camera and saw a man. A suited man, a banker, kneeling on the floor. A child, a dead little girl, in his arms. The banker then placed the child on top of a woman who lay lifeless in front of him with a child on either side.

  But had they just done this? In mere moments? And how long had they been here for, how long had they been killing for? Charlie Whisky Three thought to himself. He had lost track of time and thought he was starting to lose his mind. But had he fired his weapon? He looked at his rifle and he saw that it was raised. He looked at the barrel and saw that it was smoking. Then his heart stopped and he noticed that his rifle was aiming at the dead family. He looked down and saw bullet casings scattered around his feet. Had he killed them? He looked down at his weapon once more and turned it to remove the magazine, he looked at it – and saw that it was empty. He had fired every one of the 30 rounds it housed. He had murdered that man’s wife and daughters.

  He was brought out of his trance by the man whose family he had just killed. At first he slumped as though he was dead but seconds later he rose to his feet and turned. But he didn’t see Charlie Whisky Three. He did see One though. And he saw that he was filming him. He heard the man hiss something at One but could not understand what he had said as he didn’t understand English. The man charged at One.

  What a fool Charlie Whisky Three thought as he watched One casually raise his rifle and cut the running family banking man to shreds. Then One looked at Three and walked closer while calmly still firing his weapon into the crowd of people running towards the shopping centre and Underground, some of them fell as he fired.

  He came close enough to communicate and then smiled at Three and said in their native tong:

  “Well done brother. I am proud of you. You have killed well. But this is only the beginning. See, they run like cowards and rats, exactly how we knew they would. Now you go towards that bar and kill everyone there and then move into the shopping centre.” One patted Three on the back and instructed Four, who had been firing his weapon nonstop, to follow him. And they moved off towards the station and the escalators moving deep Underground.

  Charlie Whisky Three looked up at his next target, the bar, and noticed only one man still sitting at an outside table of the venue. He had a headset on and it looked as though he was talking to someone. Charlie Whisky Three snorted and said out loud to himself.

  “The fool hasn’t even realised what’s going on. Idiot. I will kill him! I will kill that fat banker next!”

  SEVEN

  “John. One of them is walking towards me” said Mark.

  “Good. Has he seen you?” asked John.

  “Yes. And why is that good?”

  “Because you need his weapon.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t know how to use a machine bloody gun!...”

  “Calm down Mark and get up and walk to the first door of the bar, enter and wait behind and to the left of it, quickly. And make sure our guy sees you do it.”

  Without a word Mark did what he was told. The terrorist was about 20 metres away and closing. By Mark’s reckoning and own experience it would take him just under 10 seconds to reach the entrance where he now waited, maybe longer within all the chaos and death.

  “Okay, I’m here, now what?”

  “Did he see you move into that entrance?”

  “Yes, and what the bloody hell am I going to do when he comes after me?”

  “You are going to kill him. Now don’t respond or answer back Mark, just listen. When he comes through that door the odds are his weapon is going to be lowered and in the firing position. Perfect for you in your location to grab it and take it from him..”

  “Are you bloody well insane and then what am …”

  “And then you are going to raise him off his feet and head butt..”

  As John’s words trailed off from head butt Mark saw the muzzle of an AK47 Assault Rifle appear in the entrance to the All Bar One. But he froze. He froze in fear. He was a deer in headlights and he was failing. Fail.

  “Act! Act Mark. Act now!” He could hear John saying the words over the phone. But he could not, he was paralysed with fear and self-doubt.

  A moment later and the weapon which was now fully within the doorway started to spit hot lead from its venomous mouth. The muzzle flash searing into Mark’s face. For a split second he thought he was dead. Until he realised the weapon was still facing across him and not at him. He looked in the direction the weapon was aimed and saw the target of the terrorist. It was the red head who had so sweetly flirted with him only moments earlier. She was standing behind the counter with her hands in the air. He saw a bullet rip into her face and through the back of her head, mushrooming as it did so, sending brain and blood all over the wall behind her. She dropped to the floor dead.

  Mark looked forward once more and saw that the terrorist was now looking at him. There was a deranged twinkle in the man’s eyes and Mark could see under his mask that he was grinning broadly in delight.

  Without conscious th
ought or plan he finally grabbed the killer’s weapon from the top of its barrel with his left hand and raised it high into the air. With his right hand he grabbed the back of the terrorist’s neck and brought him up and sent his own skull crashing into the smaller man’s face. He was twice the size of the little terrorist and he could hear the man’s face and neck break and splinter upon impact with his own head. But he didn’t stop after the first strike. He head butted the terrorist four more times before letting the unconscious body slump to the floor like a discarded old cloak.

  Then he stood there, still. Tears swelling in his eyes.

  “Mark, Mark, are you there buddy? I need you to come back. There is more work to be done. Listen to me buddy, you can still save more lives. Come back to me.”

  “I let her die, the girl, the waitress, I could have saved her but I froze. And now she’s dead and I… Ah shit.” Suddenly Mark felt a blistering pain surge through him emanating from his left hand and he released his grip on the weapon. It fell to the ground and a round discharged hitting the ceiling harmlessly above him.

  “It’s the barrel of the rifle. It’s extremely hot right now. That’s your third lesson of the day. Don’t touch the barrel of an in-action weapon!” said John over the phone.

  “Shit it’s bloody painful. And how the hell would you know? And, well what the hell was lesson one and two?”

  “Okay, we have a few seconds to go over a few points and then you must move quickly. The other two Tango’s, Terrorists, will come back out of the station entrance in front of you and that is where you must kill them. So listen. I know you are bursting to speak but listen! Lesson One was The Will to Act. You must always be ready to act in an instant. If you had acted immediately that girl would still be alive. So now every time you hesitate or question me I want you to think of the girl. Now lesson Two was the mistake the terrorist made: Always, and I mean always point you weapon in the direction that you are looking? Understand?”