Whispers of a Lesser God Read online

  The last operation had been like a gift from heaven for Ray. A family had been taken hostage by a lone gunman in a house in a small town. When the team were sent in to lay siege to the house, Ray had been sent around the back to take up his allocated position. It had been too good to be true. From his position he could see the back door wide open, with the hostage taker facing the other way. The family, a single mother and two children, were being used as human shields. Bob had quietly radioed the other members of the team to cause a distraction and simply slipped through the back door and disarmed the gunman, while holding a Glock to the back of his head. Luckily nobody had been killed or injured. But this operation would be completely different, and everybody present knew it.

  The door opened and the chief walked briskly to the desk, clutching a handful of notes. He looked very serious and dour today, and this warned the whole team that he had come to do very serious business. The whole gathering went quiet as the chief looked around the room coldly.

  “Gentlemen. Please bear with me. Since our meeting two days ago, things have changed dramatically. We now have detailed and precise information on exactly who and what we are dealing with. I believe that the intel we have is very accurate and of extreme importance, due to an informer that has inside information on the people involved. We are dealing with probably three very dangerous and professional men. We even have accurate information on where they are hiding out, but that is a problem I will give you all an update on in a minute. The massive bank heist in Dayton, Ohio was almost definitely them. The bank heist in Springfield, Illinois two months ago was almost definitely them. I’m going to show you some camera footage from both robberies and then you will understand where I’m coming from.”

  He went over to a projector and switched it on. The face of the first suspect flashed up on the screen.

  “Suspect number one. Robert McCawber, alias ‘the Bear’; ex-US ranger. Six foot six, three hundred pounds of solid muscle, and extremely violent and dangerous. Suspect number two. Hirum Graves, alias ‘Digger’ Graves. Ex-Army Air Corps. Five foot ten, 190 pounds. Probably as, or even more dangerous than McCawber. Suspect number three. Frank Nash. Five foot eight, 180 pounds. Ex-army recon. Now this guy is possibly the brains of the crew. He has very detailed knowledge of radio equipment, maps and, more dangerously for us, he is well advanced on top-secret cyber technology. But, gentlemen, we have one helluva problem, and that is gettin’ at ’em.

  “But first let me go into some detail of how this crew got together. They are all that remains of two militia groups that got together. Graves was the head of a group from Montana, numbering eight. McCawber was the head of another crew from North Dakota, numbering seven. Nash was with Graves’ crew when they joined up. What the other members had not anticipated was that both McCawber and Graves believed in iron discipline, drill, and practising very hard and dangerous exercises in all weathers, in the most difficult and deadly terrain.”

  The chief then looked around the meeting to let everybody digest what he had said so far.

  “Endless drills, being rousted out of bed at four o’clock in the morning to go out on exercises in below-zero temperatures, in all weathers, was simply too much for the rest of the militia. So they all went back home. Apparently, playing at soldiers and actually being them was a lot more than they had bargained for.

  “But here’s the kicker: one did remain, and that is when these three gentlemen decided to expand into bank robbery. He had been the getaway driver for both stick-ups. But when Graves blew a bank clerk’s back wide open during the second robbery when he went for the alarm button, the driver lost his nerve. He is our informant. And the only reason he got nabbed was he got caught changing some of the stolen money into foreign currency, with the intention that the authorities would lose track of the money when it was changed back into dollars via various outlets. The only good thing is that they cannot know how much we know about them. Because we have set a trap for them, by putting out false information that the informer has cashed the money and run off with it and is now in hiding. Now here comes the hard part. And we cannot afford to make any mistakes with these guys. I’m sure that you all understand.”

  He then switched on another screen. The view was from the air, of a very heavily wooded area with rocky, mountainous terrain that was completely wild. The chief let them all digest the scene for a while before he carried on.

  “And this, gentlemen, this is the hard part. We gotta find them somewhere down there. All we have is a road that leads through this, a very bad road. And it stops a few miles in, with just a hidden path that leads deep into the forest. Then that stops as well. A big camouflaged military vehicle has been found hidden in a derelict building, just off the end of the road. That is theirs. Our informant has given us as much detail as possible, but until we find the exact location of our targets, we are flying blind. All we have is that they are holding out in an old trapper’s cabin with an adjoining storeroom, somewhere in the middle of a densely wooded area. A stream runs very close by and the cabin is situated in a depression. That could be the only thing in our favour, because we will be coming in from down and around.”

  He looked to the back of the room towards where Ray and his three teammates were sitting.

  “Team Tango, one, two, three and four, will be the recon team. They will find the targets and radio in for Team Echo, the main team, to move down together, surrounding the immediate area, to cut it off and reduce any chance of escape. Team Tango will be dropped off at the end of the main road and move out into the forest. Team Echo will follow in another vehicle shortly afterwards. There will be no helicopter support and radio traffic must be kept to the absolute bare minimum, due to Nash’s talents. You will all be kitted out and armed with AK-47s and four fully loaded magazines, with a hundred spare rounds. The element of surprise is absolutely essential on this one. You will all carry four stun grenades on your belts as well. Gentlemen, despite our recent successes, we cannot afford to bungle this one. Whether or not it’s a spectacular success or failure, it’s gonna make front-page news and it will be all over every TV station in the country. I’m sure that you all appreciate the sheer gravity of this and realise that our reputation is at stake. Gentlemen, this whole operation must be extremely well coordinated and executed. Thank you.”

  From a high rocky outcrop a figure in full combat attire looked down with his binoculars as the four figures in camouflage gear rapidly exited a camouflaged SUV and disappeared into the dense forest at the end of the road. He then turned and sighted with the binoculars the big camouflaged lorry with huge wheels slowly moving down the road in the far distance. He smiled to himself, because everything was going to plan. He switched on his radio and spoke into it quietly.

  “Yogi Bear two. Yogi Bear one. Target one has just entered the forest. Target two’s ETA approx. five minutes. Move fast now. Then join Yogi Bears three and four ASAP. Then head straight to zone two and radio Daddy Bear. Keep radio traffic to the absolute minimum. Out.”

  The lorry slowly moved down the broken road, with the driver carefully avoiding potholes and fallen rocks. It had been difficult for him not to rev the powerful engine, so he could reduce engine noise. But the sharp declines and inclines of the road had not been anticipated. Then he sighted in front a long, slanting stretch with no potholes or rocks visible. At least he could coast this stretch without revving the engine. And that is exactly what he did.

  But as he was about to slip into gear to climb the next incline, it happened in sequence. Four loud bangs. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! All four tyres had burst and the lorry literally dropped down and slid to a sharp stop. The driver had not seen the alloy tacks spread all over the road. The entire crew of twenty immediately jumped out of the back of the lorry, wondering what the hell had happened. This is when some of them started losing their nerve. Somebody was playing games with them already. But one of them, who was examining the burst tyres and shaking his head, was smiling wryly to himself. The head of Team Echo grabbed his radio. He had to make a decision very quickly, because something had gone horribly wrong.

  “Tangos one, two, three, four; Echo one. Do you all read me?”

  Immediately Team Tango replied. All four of them.

  “Team Tango, reading you loud and clear.”

  “Cannot give you details, but Team Echo is going to have to enter the forest about a mile down the road. Situ. has changed. Cannot stay where we are. Have to get off the road ASAP. Just hold your positions when you find targets as instructed, and stay in radio contact. Cannot give you our ETA now; whole plan has been thrown out of sync… Over.”

  “Team Tango, receiving you loud and clear. Will stay on frequency Bravo Golf. Over and out.”

  The head of Team Tango looked desperately around the woods and rocky outcrops and realised with great clarity that his team were now sitting ducks. Half expecting rifle fire, he barked out his instructions.

  “Right, boys, straight into the woods and we’ll rethink our plans from there. Let’s go, go, go!”

  Team Tango grabbed their rifles and kit and bundled headlong into the forest. No rifle fire, or any sound at all, followed them. Some of them started to lose their nerve. Indeed, somebody was playing games with them. However, one member of the team had great difficulty suppressing a grin, as he was trying to feign a look of fear and trepidation.

  Ray was wondering what could have happened to Team Echo, but he was not unduly alarmed, because he was very well versed in the art of combat. As he was pondering what might have delayed Team Echo he saw it, through the dense wood, in a gully: the target. Although the cabin and storeroom looked quite dilapidated, they had obviously been patched recently with new boar
ding and roof slats. But what really drew his attention and gave him a sudden rush of adrenaline was the huge, bear-like figure sitting between two much smaller figures, facing a small campfire. Ray picked his radio from his belt. He knew that Tangos two, three and four were close, but how close?

  “Tangos two, three, four. Have sighted target and waiting for you establish positions.”

  “Tango three. I am behind target, but cannot see any movement.”

  “Tango four. I am to the right of target, can see three figures sitting by campfire, facing cabin.”

  “Tango two, twenty yards to the right of Tango three. Should we make a move?”

  “Tango three, this is Tango two. No. They have not sighted us. We have to follow orders.”

  “Tango one, Tango two. Team Echo have been delayed. The fuckin’ targets are sitting ducks.”

  Just then another voice came through Ray’s radio and he knew that both teams were going to share in the glory unless anything went disastrously wrong. The targets were sitting ducks.

  “Team Tango. Team Echo is now in position. We’ve got you all on our GPS and we are moving in around you. Is the target in a centre point between you?”

  “Yes, and they are in full view. Will contact you if there is a change in movement, over.”

  “Team Tango. Team Echo. Should be right behind you in approx. ten minutes. Over and out.”

  Just as the head of Team Echo finished his radio message, he heard the rustle of foliage behind him. And then the whole team heard the rustle of foliage, the snapping of twigs and the lash of branches directly behind them. Now most of Team Echo began to lose their nerve.

  Suddenly and without any warning, Ray heard the loud crack of high-velocity rifles, then the roar of SMGs, and he knew immediately that something had gone horribly wrong. Then he heard the voice of Tango two over the radio; a voice that was trying to suppress panic.

  “Tangos one, three and four. I don’t know what’s going on, but moved down quickly on the targets!”

  Ray didn’t have to wait, and replied over his radio, as he burst out of the bushes, “Roger, Tango two, meet you all down there.”

  He went charging down through the bracken and undergrowth and then he nearly fell into it, before he saw how deep and wide it was. The stream was running fast and high with the melting snow that was coming down from the mountain. He thought that he could ford it from a narrow spot ten yards to his left. But as he bolted towards the spot, suddenly he was yanked high into the air. The wire trap was so thin he had not seen it in the underbrush. But that was the least of his problems. The wire was rigged with steel hooks, and as he flew upside down, his webbing, his magazines and his Glock were ripped clean off him by the hooks and dropped into the stream. As he dropped down again, the wire suddenly snapped and he dropped his AK-47 into the swirling water. He landed heavily in the bracken, not seriously hurt. But he had been rendered completely helpless and disarmed. Whoever planned this must have predicted exactly what Ray was going to do.

  The huge figure stood up between two shopfront mannequins that had been rigged out in camouflage gear and kicked them aside. He grabbed a double-barrelled twelve-bore shotgun and looked around. Just then, Tangos two, three and four burst out of the bushes. But they were not primed for combat; they were running for their lives. McCawber, the Bear, casually levelled the shotgun and blew a hole through Tango three’s abdomen, lifting him clean into the air. He then levelled it at Tango four and blew a massive hole in his chest. The force of the blast made Tango four do a magnificent pirouette, before he dropped heavily into the brush. Tango two’s legs had turned to jelly, as if he was trying to do an impersonation of Elvis Presley. But six high-velocity bullets burst through his back and a hail of SMG fire took his head clean off.

  Then, through the undergrowth and bushes, at least twelve figures dressed in full combat gear burst out into the open, brandishing rifles and SMGs. McCawber the Bear turned towards Ray, leaned on his shotgun and smiled serenely.

  Meanwhile, hidden in the forest, the only two surviving members of Team Echo were having a discussion. One of them was panicking; the other was calm and collected.

  “Larry, we gotta get outta here; we’ve been bushwhacked. Everybody’s dead apart from us. We musta’ had an enemy plant that infiltrated us. They couldn’t have known we were out here otherwise.”

  Larry smiled wryly, levelled his Glock and emptied it into his comrade’s chest and stomach.

  McCawber was eyeing Ray curiously from across the stream, as his A-team of fifteen heavily armed mercenaries gathered around him. He began to chuckle.

  “Well, boy, meet the new team. A lot betta’ than the last bunch. You’ve probably heard about those bums. Well, me and my pardners Nash and Graves have been doin’ a little recruiting, as you can see.”

  The whole team began to roar with laughter. With great clarity, Ray realised that he was the only one of both teams left alive. He was alive, disarmed, humiliated and completely devastated. This was going to make the national news all right, but for all the wrong reasons. He did not know what to do, but McCawber knew exactly what he wanted him to do.

  “We’ll be movin’ out soon, boy. Now you go back and tell all those fancy dudes in suits what we did to ya. Pity you’re on the wrong side, boy. Coulda’ used ya in my team.”

  Ray turned around and staggered back up through the decline in the gully, then disappeared into the bushes, with the sound of raucous laughter echoing in his ears. These guys were obviously combat veterans. Marines, army, US rangers – a whole miniature and well-equipped army.

  He had been walking through the forest for over an hour, lost, bewildered and thoroughly demoralised. How on earth could he ever explain this away? The only survivor of a crack SWAT team. Everybody, especially the press, would quite rightly think he had run away to save his own skin.

  His mind was swamped by a thousand ‘if this’ and ‘if that’s, that were completely dominating his thoughts. And as he walked out into a clearing, he saw a gigantic grizzly bear that had just come out of hibernation and was very hungry. When it saw him, it stood up on its hind legs to take a good look at him, just like McCawber the Bear had done. It was at least ten feet tall, standing erect, and Ray thought to himself that he didn’t know that grizzly bears grew so big. He had nothing to lose, so he walked out into the clearing and shouted at the bear. The bear’s ears twitched as if he could not believe what he was hearing.

  “Come on, boy. Put up ya dukes. I ain’t got nothing to lose. Let’s party, let’s boogie, boy!”

  The bear’s ears twitched again, and he looked at Ray as if he could not believe the audacity of what he was hearing. It then roared so loudly that it echoed around the surrounding mountains. Suddenly it came bounding towards Ray at incredible speed, then stood up on its hind legs again. Ray started to circle the bear like a prizefighter gearing up for a fight. Then, much to Ray’s horror, the bear eyed him suspiciously, twitched its nose and bounded back into the woods, with its gigantic hindquarters wobbling as it ran.

  Ray lifted his hands into the air and shouted loudly, “I can’t even walk into a bear trap without fucking it up!”

  Cause and Effect

  Henry Montgomery Smith was sitting in his favourite place, in a narrow side street that was part of a large cafeteria. As usual he had four piles of coins stacked on the table in silver and copper. Each stack added up to exactly seventy-nine pence. This was so that when the waitress brought him the bottle of Heineken he had ordered and took his money, she would not have to bring him any change. Cause and effect. Indeed, cause and effect had been Henry’s mantra for his entire life. It had served him well and his theory had always been that one had to be that way, just to survive. But he was also abnormally cruel, heartless and lacked any concept of compassion. His whole doctrine was that everything should be judged and viewed according to logic. And he was thoroughly delighted when he heard that his nickname around the office was Mr Spock. Cause and effect.