Out of the Shadows (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 1) (16 page)

Jozef shouted
in frustration as he knocked his head on the dashboard following
another collision. He grabbed his rifle and turned around in his
seat. The bullets blasted out of the weapon in a high-pitched
scream as Jozef tried again to neutralize the attacker. ‘I’ll kill
you!’ he hissed.

Olsen saw the
attack quickly this time and lowered himself down once again, to
avoid it. In one last desperate move, he pushed his right foot down
on the accelerator as hard as he could and felt the car surge
forwards.
One last try!
The rifle attack ceased, Olsen looked up as his
car hit the back of the Mercedes again. This time, he had no time
to react as he caught sight of the rifle as it sprayed his
tires.

Jozef smiled to
himself as he continued to fire, seeing the rubber tires blown to
pieces as the police car swerved around and lost
control.

Olsen struggled
at the wheel but couldn’t control the car. The sound of squealing
tires and scraping metal could be heard all around him as the car
swerved again and smashed into the side of the nearby Maydan Al
Fath Stadium. Olsen heard the shouts from several Omani people who
were trying to help. ‘Get away from here, move, move!’ Olsen knew
what was to come and locked his fiery glare onto the white Mercedes
that had stopped just ahead of him. He counted in his mind as he
struggled to escape the wrecked car.

Three…

Olsen smashed
his right foot into the door that wouldn’t budge. ‘COME…ON!’ Again,
he kicked the door hard and could hear it begin to give
way.

Two…

Jozef snapped
another magazine into his rifle, took aim and fired several shots
at the petrol tank of the police car, the bullets screaming out of
the chamber as they surged towards its target.

One…

Olsen heard the
unmistakable sound of gunfire and threw himself out of the vehicle
as best he could. The bullets pierced the petrol tank of the
wrecked Toyota and the resultant sparks caused the explosion that
erupted just inches away from him. Olsen smashed into the pavement
and several other Omanis. Amid the frightened screams and burning
wreckage, he looked up and saw the damaged Mercedes speed away from
the scene.

Chapter 12

Sunday, March 4
^th
21:15,

Muscat, Oman.

Three hours later, Deane unlocked the
door to his flat and heard several footsteps from the floor above.
He walked upstairs, knowing all too well who it was. ‘I thought you
would be long gone by now.’ A long silence lingered between the two
men as the evening shadows streamed across the cramped room.

Olsen picked up
his hand luggage and placed the bag on his shoulder. He locked eyes
with his mentor and felt on edge. ‘I’m booked on the next flight
out of here. I’ll be accompanying the Royal party back to London. I
just didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye…or having our
discussion.’ A shiver of fear slowly made its way down Olsen’s
spine, for a moment he wondered whether Deane would break his
promise because of his actions.

Deane sat down
in the nearest chair and pushed aside what he was about to say
about the car chase and other events outside the Embassy. For the
first time in over a decade, he allowed himself to drift back to
that fateful day in Oman but his heart resisted somewhat, knowing
what an ordeal it would be. ‘Sit down, Sam, and I’ll tell you
everything.’

Olsen did as he
was told, waiting patiently.

Deane fiddled
with a scar on his right hand as he tried to begin. The memories
bubbled away in his mind. Old feelings resurfaced, together with
the pain of losing his partner and mentor. His voice was shaky at
first. ‘As you know, Geoff and I were here for Operation ESPY. It
was a messy affair but one we thought we were on top
of…’

June 26th thirteen years ago, Muscat,
Oman.

Calm sea breezes blew through Deane’s
fine, black hair as he turned a corner and rejoined the pavement in
central Muscat.

On first
impression, he appeared to be a quiet and relaxed visitor to the
country who wore a white disdasha. Other Omanis passed him by,
without so much as a second look. The reality was somewhat
different. Having been an MI6 agent for many years, he had
experienced more at 30 years of age than most would in a lifetime.
His official file at MI6 headquarters read;
‘A highly skilled and capable agent with expertise in
undercover work, hand to hand combat, surveillance and
reconnaissance.’
Truth be told, Deane
thought of himself as an expert in every field. In his mind, aside
from his partner Geoff Olsen, he had no equal.

Deane was
acutely aware of his surroundings. His memory was sharp and despite
walking along the relatively quiet Al-Bahri Road with his head down
most of the time, he could inform a stranger of any parked cars
nearby, together with useful descriptions of the nearest people.
His walking pace quickened at the sight of the run down car in a
side street ahead. As he turned a corner, a small child called out
in Arabic whilst grinning innocently. Deane was fluent in Arabic
and understood the question, but was focussed on the job in hand
and continued towards the vehicle. As he reached the passenger
door, Deane gave an innocent looking sweep of the area with his
cold and emotionless eyes, making sure nothing was out of place.
Feeling at ease, he got in and exchanged a look with his
friend.

Geoff Olsen looked to his left
and read the expression on his partner’s face so well. Straight
away, he turned the ignition key and the ageing Toyota car roared
into life. ‘Don’t tell me you lost him?’

Deane shifted in his seat as he
wound down the window. A faint smile spread across his features.
‘Don’t worry; our targets are still at the Al-Nahda Hotel. Are we
all set?’

Geoff turned
the car onto the main road, passing several Omanis on pushbikes.
The older agent was dressed more traditionally, looking more like a
genuine visitor with his light blue shirt and sand coloured
trousers. Geoff had always been happy to leave the undercover work
to his partner of 10 years. ‘Did you see them?’

‘They entered
the hotel together after hiring a private taxi. They must be making
the drop sometime today.’ He said sternly.

Operation ESPY
had been a long, drawn out process. Tracking intelligence leaks was
never easy. The experienced partnership of Olsen and Deane had once
again proved their worth. After locating a former agency ally in
Stratford, London as the initial suspect, the two men had tracked
down the buyers of the intelligence data to Muscat, Oman. It was
likely the two men would sell the data to another faction for a
large sum of money.

Geoff Olsen
slotted the car into third gear and focussed his mind on the events
that would soon be upon him. At 45 years old, he had seen the
world, served his country and more importantly, lived through it.
Despite his love of the job, Geoff felt confident that his partner
was more than capable of taking on the role of OMA1, the MI6
codename for their agent stationed in Oman. He ran his hand through
his thick, greying hair and felt the adrenaline rush reach every
corner of his body.
I’m going to miss this
feeling,
he told himself.
Still, he was well aware that his wife and teenage
son back home in London needed his presence more than Deane or MI6
did. That alone assured him that it was time to move on.

The car drove
through the quiet streets and moved onto the slightly busier Mutrah
Corniche. Several Omanis could be seen casually walking along the
road that was set close to the water’s edge. The evening sunshine
streamed across the walkers and the beautiful Portuguese-influenced
whitewashed houses. Decorative balconies and facades could not be
missed. The sight of the bare, rugged hills in the background made
the houses stand out like lightning on a stormy night.

Geoff steered
the car through the stunning sight as the hazy evening sunshine
flowed through the windscreen. The beautiful surroundings didn’t
distract him as he continued to focus on the journey and his
mindset. He glanced over to his partner, who was looking blankly
out of the window. The silence didn’t bother Geoff, who had always
pegged Deane as the quiet, moody type. Several times, he had
trusted the young man with his life and would do so again without
hesitation.

The car weaved
in and out of the taxis parked at the stand, passing a small
souvenir shop before stopping in a side street, not far from the
Al-Nahda Hotel.

Geoff switched
off the ignition and looked out. ‘Strange how this hotel is cut off
from the rest; perfect location for them.’ He reached for a file
and glanced at the information, reading all about Oscar Moas, the
Syrian national who would be all set to sell his acquired
intelligence reports.

‘Here we go.’
said Deane quietly, leaning forward in the passenger
seat.

The run-down hotel sat alone on
the corner of the street, several hundred yards from the busier
areas. Two men appeared at the entrance, both holding a
package.

Geoff watched carefully from
behind the wheel of the car. ‘There he is again. That must be his
partner. Did we get a rundown on him?’

Deane fumbled
through some papers and read through the accomplice’s vital
details. He looked up and watched the two targets talking to each
other, taking note of the body language between the pair. ‘You can
tell Moas is the one in charge. Wait…they’re splitting up.’ Deane
looked over sharply to his partner, the senior agent.

Geoff ran a hand through his
hair and thought for a moment. ‘We don’t have a choice. They could
both have some of the data we need to recover.’ He locked eyes with
his partner. ‘You take the accomplice. I’ll take Moas.’

Deane looked at
the targets that were moving off in opposite directions and then
back to his partner. ‘Moas is the key. We get him and the data is
ours. I say we both stay on Moas.’

Geoff took the
car keys from the ignition and opened the car door. ‘This is my
call. Protocol dictates that we split up if it’s necessary.’ He saw
his partner begin to object again, speaking with a more forceful
tone of voice. ‘Don’t take any risks. We’ll meet back here in one
hour.’ With that, Geoff set off after Oscar Moas.

Deane watched
him go and looked away in disagreement. Slowly, he gave a sweeping
look at his surroundings and set off in the direction of the
accomplice. Several minutes passed as he kept the small individual
in sight; passing numerous houses. Deane stopped and saw his target
walk down a crowded alleyway, which led to the fish market. He
followed, keeping a respectable distance and watched the target
merge with the crowds. The strong smell of all types of fish swept
over him, as the hustle and bustle of the market came into view.
For an instant, Deane lost sight of his target. Despite the
development, he didn’t panic but continued his slow movement
through the market. His steely looking eyes locked onto the suspect
who was standing by the side of a fish stall at the far end. Relief
came over him, though it quickly changed to dread as the target
stepped out from the stall and looked straight at him. Deane didn’t
flinch as he held a casual stare for a second before looking away.
When his gaze returned to the location, the target could be seen
jogging down the road to a waiting car. Deane cursed himself in
Arabic for not spotting the vehicle before and set off at a sprint,
in pursuit. He tried desperately to make his way through the busy
crowds in time but watched in vain as the car sped off. Looking
around frantically for a taxi, the street appeared to quieten down
almost immediately. Deane closed his eyes, angry with himself at
the failure then focussed his mind on his partner.
Did they want to split us up?
Without wasting another second on the accomplice, he turned on
his heels and began to sprint back towards the Al-Nahda Hotel,
convinced his partner was in serious danger.

Geoff Olsen
watched Oscar Moas linger on the corner of Al-Mina Street from his
position outside the Mina Hotel.
If this
guy’s on his way to a meeting, he’s not in any hurry.
He gave the surrounding area another check before
setting off in the same direction. On the corner of Al-Mina Street,
he just caught sight of his target move off down an alleyway.
Warning signals went off in his mind as he sensed Moas was now
aware of his presence. Despite the alarm, he still felt in control
as he walked slowly down the steep road before coming to the corner
of the alleyway. He studied every part of the quiet street before
peering around the edge of the wall. The alleyway was narrow and
deserted, serving as the back entrances of the souvenir shops and
Post Office.
No witnesses,
he thought to himself. Geoff summed up the risks
and thought about waiting for Deane, but he decided to make his
move.
We need this intelligence data. I
can’t let him go.
Confident in his
decision, he set off down the narrow side street and quickly caught
up Oscar Moas, who now appeared to be deliberately walking at a
slower pace. Geoff felt for the Fairbarn Sykes knife, his lucky
charm, which was strapped to his back. Attracting attention was the
last thing he needed; the recovery of the intelligence data was all
that mattered.