Out of the Shadows (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 1) (12 page)

Olsen raised
his eyes to the sky as he snapped back. ‘Your excuse, not
mine.’

An awkward silence lingered
between them for several seconds until Deane spoke again. ‘This is
hard for both of us. We still have a job to do. The British Royal
party will be leaving the Sultan’s palace soon. Get yourself ready.
The visit to the harbour in Matrah will be within the hour. We’ll
both be accompanying them.’ He gave the binoculars to his partner
and climbed down the ladder to the flat below.

Olsen shook his
head and realised for the first time how hopeless his mentor was
when it came to anything personal. With a casual air, he looked
through the binoculars and surveyed the surrounding area. As he
heard his partner climb down the ladder behind him, Olsen studied
the UK Embassy, the nearby market, and the beautiful sky above. He
was just about to look away when he caught sight of a road name.
Olsen’s heart sank when he saw which one it was. As much as he
wanted to look away and focus on the job in hand, he was unable to
do so. Through the binoculars, the shiny road sign read ‘Al-Mina
Street’, the location his father had perished. A shiver ran through
his body and sweat trickled down his face.
I have to go there, I have to.

Below, Deane
sat at a desk in his small and humid office, with the nearby fan
working overtime to cope with the heat. The experienced agent was
reading several reports and weeding out any useful information. He
folded some papers from his desk and placed them in his pocket,
noticing his partner climbing down the ladder. ‘I hope you scanned
the Embassy and noted the security procedures.’

Olsen heard the question but
had only one thing in his mind; going to the street where his
father had died all those years ago.

Deane read the
report he was holding again and waited for an answer from his
partner. To his surprise, none came as he heard the door to his
flat slam shut. He got out of his chair and watched Olsen hail a
taxi, which drove away at speed. Deane closed his eyes and dropped
the document, knowing exactly where his young charge was
heading.

Olsen sat back
in the taxi and tried to clear his head. Closing his eyes didn’t
help as he attempted to stop the nightmare from starting up again.
His heart was calling for Rachel but she was miles away and he was
on his own.

A call came
from the taxi driver and the steep hill of Al-Mina Street presented
itself. Olsen tossed a couple of thousand baiza in the driver’s
direction and got out of the car. With dark thoughts swirling
around his mind, he had been expecting the street to give off a
scent of danger, possibly even look threatening in some way.
Instead, the road was quiet, peaceful and positively gleaming under
the intense sunlight and clear blue sky. Feeling himself shaking
all over, he walked slowly down the hill before coming to the
alleyway where Geoff Olsen had perished. Gradually, he entered the
narrow walkway and studied every part of the alley, in an attempt
to picture the scene that had changed his life. A flurry of
emotions overcame him as Olsen stood in the middle of the alleyway,
almost feeling his father call out to him in some way. Noises from
behind made him turn around.

Deane lingered at the entrance
to the alleyway, feeling guilty and uncomfortable all at once. He
had no idea of what to say or how to say it.

Olsen saw the vulnerable
expression on his partners face and for a moment felt like he had
intruded on his private moment. He looked away and continued to
study his surroundings.

Deane thought about leaving but
suddenly felt concern for Operation Safeguard and the timetable of
events, feeling that talking about the current operation would push
away his own dark feelings about what had happened in the alleyway,
an area he had never returned to since that fateful day. ‘The
operation we’re on right now is the key here. We should go.’

Olsen ignored him.

Deane continued
with his approach. ‘Prince David will need our help. We cannot
afford to miss it. Too much is at stake.’ A frown spread across his
features as he realised he wasn’t getting through. Deane
reluctantly turned to leave without his partner.

Olsen looked back and tried to
control the emotion in his voice. ‘Where?’ He gestured with his
hands, desperate to know exactly where his father had died.

Deane knew what his partner
meant but didn’t want to touch on the subject. ‘Are you
coming?’

‘Where did it
happen, Tom…the exact spot, just tell me where.’ Olsen’s eyes
locked onto his partner’s. ‘I need to know. I have to
know.’

One…two…three…Damn it!
Ahead, Deane
saw an image of his younger self desperately giving CPR to Geoff
Olsen and meticulously counting the compressions. He closed his
eyes and held back the tears.
So many
mistakes…
‘There.’ Deane pointed to an area
that was now stacked high with boxes.

Olsen nodded solemnly. ‘I guess
I should take heart from the fact that Oscar Moas won’t be a threat
to anyone else.’

Deane’s mouth went dry as he
heard the name of Geoff Olsen’s killer. Oscar Moas had been dead
for many years, killed by a C.I.A. operative in Iran just months
after Operation ESPY. The very thought of Moas made Deane feel
unsettled, it brought a pain to his heart and a sick feeling to his
stomach.

Olsen continued to stare at the
spot his partner had indicated.

The memories
were traumatic and hurtful to Deane, who almost never allowed
himself to be vulnerable to emotional pain. Tears welled up in his
eyes. ‘I did everything I……….’ Without finishing, he turned around
and headed back to the Land Rover parked just metres
away.

Olsen watched
his partner go.
You came so close to
opening up, Tom, why won’t you let me in?
He turned his attention to the area where his father had died,
got down on his knees and said a silent prayer.

Deane sat in the Land Rover and
stared blankly at the dashboard, feeling a failure in every sense
of the word. Before he could sink any further, he snapped himself
out of it and started the engine. To his surprise, the passenger
door opened and Olsen got in the car.

Olsen said
nothing at first, wound down the window and then looked at his
partner, feeling slightly more together. ‘On that day.’ He paused
for a moment before continuing. ‘I’m sure you did all you could,
but I need to hear your account of what happened.’ He looked across
at his partner.

For several
moments, Deane was silent and continued to stare ahead at nothing.
Then he spoke, in a subdued tone. ‘For years I’ve blamed myself for
what happened.’ He reluctantly searched through buried feelings
that felt like they were from another lifetime. Early morning
sunlight spread across his face, highlighting several lines on his
forehead. Each one could have represented the lives he had failed
to protect in years gone by. ‘But I did do all that I could for
your father. He was my partner. I respected him and trusted him
more than any other man.’ His voice almost broke under the
emotional strain as he continued. ‘I can’t change what happened, no
matter how much I want to. I reasoned with him that we should have
stayed together.’ He looked at his young partner with genuine
sorrow in his eyes. ‘We were both to blame. Oscar Moas was already
well aware of our presence.’

Olsen listened
intently as the words began to sink in. It was the first time the
subject had really been discussed and as was Olsen armed with the
facts, the truth was slowly coming out. He could feel the lump in
his throat and the pain in his heart as he wished his father could
still be with him. Nevertheless, he needed to hear more. ‘Tom…I
know how hard this is. Jesus, this is impossible for both of us but
what I need is for you to take me through that day, step by step. I
need it Tom. I have to know and you’re the only man who can do
that.’

Deane was a
stubborn man. In his heart and mind, he knew Olsen was right and it
took a lot for him to admit that to himself, let alone another
human being. Nevertheless, there was an operation in progress,
lives and world events were under threat at that very moment. His
professional side surged to the surface and resumed control.
‘You’re right. I should take you through that day.’ He faced his
partner and focussed his dark blue eyes with affection on the
younger man. ‘We should have done this years ago and for that I’m
truly sorry. I give you my word, I will tell you everything about
that day.’ He placed a hand on Olsen’s shoulder. ‘When this
operation is over. You have to trust me.’

Olsen studied
the look from his mentor and could hear the meaning and emotion in
Deane’s voice. His focus turned back slightly towards the operation
at hand and managed a smile of sorts. ‘We’re heading to the
harbour, right?’

Deane nodded
and started the engine. He wanted to think about how he would go
through that fateful day with Olsen but had no idea of how to
start. The lives of the British Royal Party were the priority. He
pulled the Land Rover out onto the main street and pushed the fear
and guilt away.
I don’t care what the
circumstances are; it feels good to have Sam by my side
again.
His tone returned to the usual
businesslike approach. ‘I’ll need you to follow my lead when we get
there.’

Olsen raised his dark eyebrows.
‘I’ll be ready, you can count on that.’ As the scenery passed by
the window, he continued his efforts to absorb the events of the
last hour and attempted to focus on the present.

Chapter 9

Sunday, March 4
^th
11:30,

Matrah harbour, Oman.

Twenty minutes later, Olsen could just
make out the edge of the harbour some distance away. Even from his
restricted view, it was an impressive sight. He put on his light
brown jacket, which covered his Beretta pistol and noticed a quick
sideways glance from Deane. ‘How far to Matrah?’ He asked.

Deane was now
completely focussed on the work ahead. ‘Not far; we’ll make it
before the British Royal party does. By the way, I don’t want you
using that unless it’s absolutely necessary.’ Pointing to the
location of the younger man’s pistol, now concealed by the jacket.
‘We protect the Prince at all costs. With our own bodies if needs
be. I see you still haven’t changed your mind about your choice of
weapon?’

Olsen sighed
and rubbed the left temple of his forehead. ‘Let’s not go over that
again, ok? I’m used to the Beretta and it’s time to
focus.’

Deane pointed to the area
ahead. ‘The harbour is over there. By the way, I have some bottled
water on the back seat if you need it.’

Olsen grabbed one and unscrewed
the cap. He drank heavily and knew that feeling thirsty was never a
good sign in such hot weather.

The Land Rover
passed several gleaming white buildings and some office blocks. The
harbour was just beyond some family units. Sunshine appeared to be
almost bouncing off the calm waters. Deane slowly brought the car
to a stop, turned off the ignition and looked at his non-descript
silver watch. ‘They’ll be here soon. When the Royal party arrives,
we’ll flank one side each. Understood?’ He looked over with a
determined face.

Olsen noted his partner’s stern
look. ‘Got it.’

‘It’s my understanding that
Prince David will chat to some of the fishermen, take an interest
in the site and then return back to the Sultan’s palace. Turn your
radio on, I want us to be in constant communication.’ Deane glanced
up from his partner at the sight of the British Royal party
approaching.

Olsen flicked a
switch on the radio, which was connected from his waist to his left
ear, stepped out of the car and looked around. The setting was one
of beauty that appeared to be lost on Deane, who never took his
eyes off the approaching vehicles.

The harbour
extended into the distance, with an uneven looking walkway covering
most parts. On both sides, pebbles covered the surface that led
into the nearby sea. Several young boys of no more than twelve
years of age stood bare foot in the sea looking at Olsen and Deane
inquisitively. After seconds of intrigue, they returned to pulling
in an incoming fisherman’s boat. Buckets were taken from the
pebbled shore as they all began to transfer the contents from the
boats.

Olsen watched
this and mapped out the area in his mind; he took a few steps onto
the harbour and noted the locations and directions of the
footpaths. Before leaving London, he had read up on Matrah harbour.
It had now become one of the leading ports in the Middle East and
was adjacent to the capital city of Muscat. Not a single cloud was
in the sky and he felt he was gradually adjusting to the heat of
Oman. Despite the high temperature, far lower than the average
summer temperature of 40C, the humidity was relatively low. He
exchanged a look with Deane as both men waited for the Royal party
to disembark the cars.

Deane gave a nod to the leading
agent who was part of the British Royal Party security contingent
and looked over at Olsen. ‘Stay alert!’ He said over the radio.

Olsen gave a
discreet nod of the head and flanked the party from the left side,
his partner taking the right. He watched the Prince carefully, saw
him interact with some of the boys working at the harbour and
wondered how much of it was an act, rather than genuine interest.
Taking his attention away from the visiting, Prince David he gave a
sweeping look around the harbour. Unsurprisingly, large groups of
Omanis had gathered in the area, taking a close look at what was
probably the first Prince they had ever seen. One by one, Olsen
studied each of the men, women, and children carefully; fully aware
a security risk could come in any shape or form. A small child of
around six or seven years of age attempted to pass him to get
closer to the Royal but Olsen placed his large hands in front of
him. The child returned to its mother straight away.