Johno had been at the far end of the camp, sat in a hut with Burke and his men, plus the ex-SAS ‘old dogs’.
‘Should have seen the look on their faces when I checked their vehicles,’ Johno laughed, can of beer in his hand.
‘What’s he got planned?’ Burke asked, sipping a beer.
‘Going to snuggle up to the Serbs, open a bank branch over there. Today he’s going to give them everything they want.’
‘He is?’ Burke queried, his eyes widening.
‘We’re going to open up hotels over there, buy shares in banks and travel agencies and TV and the media, all using Swiss neutrality so that no fucker will suspect anything. We’ll have first hand intel’ on a large chunk of their country; financial transactions, movements on planes, hotels, you name it.’
Burke smiled and nodded. ‘Told me he was going to derail these talks.’
Johno grinned. ‘Got you here, didn’t he? Listen, mate, learn something now: what he says, and what he does, two different things. And never play poker or chess with Beesely, he’ll clean you out every time. Just when you figure you know what he’s up to, that’s the time to throw your notes out the window and start again. He’s always three steps ahead of everyone!’
Johno’s phone chirped. ‘Yeah?’ He stood and tucked away the phone, grabbing his whistle and winking at Burke as he headed for the door, giving four loud blasts when outside.
Burke stood and faced his team. ‘Let’s roll, boys. Or should I say ... pawns.’
Hundreds of men began to run to a side entrance of the camp, through dense woods and away from the lake, following a precisely engineered plan of action. White and orange police BMW motorcycles sped off. In little under five minutes the camp was cleared, just a handful of guards left on the gates, smartly dressed and with no weapons visible.
A promise of a further meeting had been made and agreed to by all sides, to be held in Bern in a month’s time. Following that, a Swiss delegation would fly to Serbia and the new Serbian President would be involved. Their Ambassador happily signed a ‘statement of intent’ with his Swiss counterpart and accepted a lift back to Bern, taking the scenic route. The remaining Serbs were driven back to the airfield through the empty camp.
‘He is making a point, I think,’ the Serb Foreign Minister began as they drove off. ‘That he has the firepower if he needs to use it. And he has the friends in England and America if he needs them.’
‘Do you trust him?’ the Intelligence Chief asked.
‘Yes. I think he is more interested in money than anything political. Also, I think that the Swiss Government has put pressure on him to resolve this. He needs to find a solution, so do we.’
The Intelligence Chief nodded, taking in the beautiful scenery.