“I agree,” volunteered Laura, slightly hesitantly. She did not want to become embroiled in military tactics. “Giving them any form of warning means that key players could escape, or worse, they rig the place for destruction, risking the lives of everyone in the vicinity.”
The small group was silent for a while, the sounds of others moving about elsewhere in the command centre an acknowledgement that preparations continued apace.
“How about an aerial assault?” Nat suggested suddenly.
“That would be fast and not give any warning at all,” Laura added.
“From the photos, the roof is still the original and should be easy to get through. The one risk to my suggestion is that we do not know the internal layout. Falling debris could hit things we don’t want damaged.”
“Unless we go through the roof close to the sides of the building,” suggested the Lieutenant.
The General had regarded them carefully during the discussion, listening, weighing-up the comments and keeping his own counsel. His arms were folded with one hand rubbing his chin before he spoke decisively, “Helicopters will lead the charge with our ground troops following in our rapid response vehicles. Lieutenant, anticipating a strong perimeter, I want a dozen helicopters. The ground assault will be as planned, through the identified active entrances. I don’t want to go through the walls, nor the blocked-up entrances at risk of releasing the chemicals.”
Waiting a few seconds before continuing, the General watched his Lieutenant to ensure the man understood. “The ground troops are to provide the distraction and cover to allow the airborne teams to get inside as quickly as possible. They must focus on securing the chemical production and stores, preventing any release.”
“General,” Nat started, “given the nature of the facility, I would expect there to be a sizeable area between the entrance and the production area. People will be checked, have to change into suitable clothing, etcetera. Therefore, could I suggest that you can use extreme force to go through the front with minimal risk. We know that the storage area is round the side thanks to your cameras picking up the movement of the barrels.”
“Yes! Logical thinking. Lieutenant?”
“Sir?”
“Attend to the arrangements and briefings. Start with the airborne teams, then brief the control teams so they can link-up with the airborne. Finally, get your hands on suitable equipment to blast through the front doors. And Lieutenant, make sure the airborne understands that they will be going in through the roof which will be slippery because of the rain.”
“Yes Sir!” Immediately, the Lieutenant turned and left.
“Thank you all for this. I have greater confidence for an otherwise risky operation. I am sure you will want to join my men when they go in?”
“That would be good, yes please, General,” Nat replied quickly before any of the others could object.”
The General smiled at the enthusiasm. “Lieutenant Farcas will make the arrangements. You will bring up the rear and please remain with Cezar and try and avoid any conflict. We will provide some handguns for your protection, just in case, but I hope you won’t have to use them.”
“That is fully understood, General, and thank you,” Laura replied for the group. “Much appreciated.”
* * *
Gurning put the phone down and glanced at his watch – it was nearly eight o’clock in the evening and he was hungry. He pursed his lips as he thought about the series of conversations he had just had. Most of those arrested had no record. However, two were known as having links to international organised crime, including drugs. Not surprisingly, none were divulging anything – yet! It was essential to be optimistic; maybe someone would break and start informing on others in the hope of some leniency.
Forensics were still at work at the Leicester location, as well as in their laboratory trying to find important clues that could be followed up and provide links to others, potentially incriminating them in the process.
Conveniently, the cars they had been using were rentals and a line of investigation was progressing to follow the money. Always ‘follow the money’, a mantra that had proved successful so many times. It was slow, but they were making headway as calls to banks, in the UK and internationally, produced a useful trail for the investigators.
Gurning was feeling optimistic. I hope the SRI’s operation in Romania is a success, he thought. Out of everything, the threat of a chemical attack tops the list for giving me sleepless nights!
34
As ten o’clock approached and darkness took hold, Laura, Rob, Nat and Cezar sat at one of the holding points with the squads of soldiers waiting for the order to proceed.
General Muntean stood by himself in the middle of the command centre surrounded by seated operatives, all waiting for the helicopters to arrive. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased it was raining or not. The rain would create treacherous conditions on the production facility’s roof for the airborne forces but would also dampen down any release of chemicals, should one occur – essential given the light wind was blowing towards the city!
It wasn’t long before twelve Black Hawk helicopters radioed in – two minutes until their arrival. Eighty ground troops, plus Laura, Rob, Nat and Cezar immediately set off from their three holding points, two convoys of armoured vehicles and one team on foot, approaching across the perimeter fields.
The sense of anticipation was enhanced by the silence. Everyone was tense, knowing that they would hear the helicopters fly overhead at any moment and hoping that the coordination was perfectly timed. A muted thrumming very quickly turned into a racket as the tightly grouped helicopters careened over the command centre and moments later over the three raiding parties.
Arroz scowled as he looked out of a window at the approaching noise. “Bloody Airforce!” he muttered, irritated by the racket and consequent distraction. Like most people, he was automatically drawn to unexpected sounds, such as now. He was in the administration and residential building opposite the production plant catching-up on his emails.
When the tails of the helicopters suddenly dipped to come to a halt before levelling off once more to hover over the production facility, Arroz’s reaction immediately changed. “What the…!” He didn’t finish the expression as he turned from the window and ran from the room picking up a handheld radio as he went.
Arroz didn’t get the opportunity to speak because the radio burst into life. “Army vehicles approaching both gates at speed!” He recognised the voice of his head of security. Dozens of thoughts and questions crowded his mind, but he had no intention to hang around and try to answer any! Arroz ducked into a room off the corridor he and many others were running along. He stood in the doorway and sent a message to a small group of his loyal henchmen:
Arrange maximum resistance. Prepare the facility for destruction. Then leave. Meet you in three days at the agreed place.
He had no doubt that everyone had sufficient time to follow his orders – the place had been designed for defence, just in case this happened. They are too late! Most shipments have been despatched, Arroz thought smugly as he ran down various corridors and stairs to one of the secure and secret escape tunnels he had devised for himself and his select group. At least I won’t have to oversee the clear out so nothing is left for the police to find. I’ll enjoy taking dozens of soldiers out as well!
With that thought, Arroz quickly looked about him, unlocked what appeared to be a heavy, old, rusty, metal door, slipped inside and re-locked it. He then made his way along the rough-hewn passage to a house he had bought well away from the facility. Smiling, Arroz walked out of the front door and down the road to a bus stop.
* * *
Immediately upon receiving Arroz’s message, the head of security left his post saying to his men, “Keep me informed by radio on what’s happening across the campus. Our leader has asked that I lead the counter-attack to protect the main building.” Amazed that his men didn’t question his actions, the man closed the door to their internal room, walked down the short passage and opened the heavy door at the end. A door which he had every intention of locking behind him so, when the explosives detonated, his men would die and have no way of identifying him should they be captured.
All in the security office had been so fixed on watching the airborne troops abseil down from their helicopters and the armoured vehicles come crashing through the gates that they missed the special forces units cutting through the rear perimeter fence. Those forces had worked their way stealthily round some of the other buildings, easily getting in. Many of the workers, mostly illegal immigrants, had ignored instructions over the tannoy system to remain in the buildings and, desperate to escape the authorities, had opened external doors to leave.
The escaping illegal immigrants held no interest for the soldiers, but seeing the head of security locking his team into their room was a different matter.
“Halt!”
Whipping out a handgun, the head of security squeezed off two quick shots and ran down the corridor, diving through an open door as a hail of bullets slammed into the door frame with two hammering into his arm and side.
Rapid orders were issued and six soldiers took up positions on either side of the doorway. Moments later, they charged in, sending a short burst of gunfire through a sofa and some large comfy chairs. With multiple small red dots flickering about the room from the soldiers’ assault rifles, the head of security flung his handgun out from behind the sofa. Cautiously, he raised his hands above the edge of the cushions before standing up. He was quickly searched by one soldier while another kept an assault rifle targeted on his chest. Having removed everything from the man’s pockets, the solider handcuffed him to the bars over the window. “Don’t go anywhere!” the solider said before leaving the room.
