Chapter 11
Sunday, March 4th 18:30,
Muscat, Oman.
Olsen dropped to the ground and continued to fire at the remaining attackers at the far end of the street. Throughout the havoc, he had only just noticed that all the locals had fled the scene and three of the Royal party’s security contingent had been killed during the surprise attack. He carefully lifted the boot of the vehicle which revealed a complex display of wires leading to what was unmistakably a large amount of plastic explosive. In that moment Olsen knew the only reason he hadn’t been blown to pieces together with the Royal party was because of his gamble and the use of his phone. Despite his victory, he knew all too well that the car was still a massive target. Any reckless gunfire might trigger the detonation mechanism. He shut the boot and slowly moved round to the side of the truck. As he shuffled along, the rear window of the truck blew out from more gunfire. Two more agents further down the street dropped to the ground as Olsen screamed into his radio. ‘Tom! We have to protect this vehicle at all costs! I’m under heavy fire. Do you copy?’
Deane, who was behind the stone wall of the embassy for cover, changed the magazine of his Spitfire pistol and returned fire. The Prince was safe for now, back inside the Embassy, so Deane knew they had to take out the remaining attackers quickly before they could leave the area. At the sound of his partner’s voice over the radio, Deane ducked down as low as he could and tried to hear every word. He then looked to his left and saw Olsen in trouble beside a truck. ‘On my way! Just hold on!’ Deane fired again and then jumped over the wall and rushed to his partner’s aid, firing backwards as he went. As he reached the truck, they exchanged a look. Any differences of opinion were forgotten as the two stood shoulder to shoulder. United in their attack, both agents fired their weapons and engaged the remaining attackers. One by one the attackers fell until finally the last two started to retreat from the area. Deane watched the remaining agents from the Royal party give chase and took a moment to regain control of his breathing and his composure.
Twenty metres away from the truck, one of the attackers was on the ground in a pool of blood, it was unlikely he would survive the day. Olsen ran to him and had no control of his temper, which came surging to the surface. He dragged the attacker to the truck, despite his serious injuries, and lifted him up into the air. ‘Who sent you?! Answer me!’ He screamed.
The terrorist didn’t answer, he just smiled. As he gave his last breath, he murmured several words. ‘Trucial coast….trucial coast.’
Olsen dropped the body to the floor and looked from the truck to the bodies of the lost agents. He then looked at Deane with a confused look on his face. ‘What’s Trucial coast?’
Deane had seen everything and felt concern for his young partner’s temperament. I thought he would lose that temper with time… He put his concerns aside and looked at Olsen. ‘Trucial Coast is an old term for United Arab Emirates. We’ll deal with that later.’ His blue eyes locked onto his partner. ‘You want to tell me why this truck was so important to you?’
Olsen looked around one more time, put away his firearm and raised the bonnet of the boot which revealed the complex explosive device. ‘I didn’t really have a choice.’
Deane couldn’t hide his surprise but then remembered Olsen’s actions during the attack. ‘You didn’t know about that device when the attack came! You took a thoughtless gamble and left the Prince vulnerable. He could be dead now if it wasn’t for the other agents, some of whom paid with their lives, I might add!’
‘I didn’t know for sure Tom, but you always taught me to trust my instincts! From what I saw, I knew this truck was a danger, and I had no choice but to leave the party and check it. You would have done the same, don’t tell me-’
Deane raised his hands in protest. ‘No! The outcome would be the same but I wouldn’t have left the Prince vulnerable. You took a huge gamble. This truck could have been nothing and those agents would be dead, their blood would be on your hands.’ Deane stepped closer to his partner. ‘You’re lucky this device will cover your actions! You never learnt that from me!’
Jozef swore in Hungarian and tried to detonate the explosives in the truck one more time. Despite his efforts, the beautiful explosion he was so desperate to see didn’t come. The frustration boiled over inside him and he threw the device at the wall. Breathing hard, he looked at his brother. ‘Get everything together. We are leaving. Now!’
Gyorgy looked out the nearby window and saw the two surviving agents from their team on the run with agents from the Royal party in pursuit. ‘What about our men down there? We can’t just leave them, if we are to continue our work we will need-’
Jozef made his way to the door. ‘Forget about them! We don’t have time to wait, our car is downstairs.’
Gyorgy was still not convinced. ‘But Akira told us to-’
‘We leave this minute. I will deal with Akira!’
Both men picked up several bags and equipment and rushed down the stairs to the waiting car below. Jozef refused to allow himself time to think about their failure and tried to focus on their escape route through the United Arab Emirates. There was no time to waste if they were going to make it to the border in one piece.
Deane didn’t want to hear any more excuses from his partner and walked away from the truck. In the distance at the end of the street, he saw several police cars mount the pavement, disperse, and start to spread out. Behind them were several ambulances which parked up and the medics started to fan out with the Police. Deane thought about ordering Olsen to take control of the survivors inside the Embassy so he could deal with the local authorities. He turned back to make sure Olsen carried out his orders but instead of his partner, he only saw the truck. Olsen was nowhere in sight.
Olsen sprinted as fast as he could, willing himself on to reach the ringleaders in time. Just seconds ago, he had spotted two men leave a small block of flats some distance away from where the attack had taken place. The two leaders, they have to be! He jumped over several bodies and spotted Deane’s Land Rover parked up. Olsen started to run towards it but he saw the vehicle become surrounded by Police cars and become blocked in. As he neared closer, one Police car pulled over and a gaunt looking officer got out and spoke in fluent Arabic. Olsen summed up the situation quickly, tossed the officer out of his way and got into the car. With the engine still running, he floored the accelerator and spun 180 degrees as he spotted the lead men get into a vehicle not far ahead.
Deane saw his partner in the driver’s seat of the police car and started to run towards the vehicle. ‘Sam! What are you doing, get out of that car now!’
Olsen saw his partner run to the car in the rear-view mirror but he made his decision and mounted the pavement to avoid the final police car that was in his way. He fiddled with the cars siren controls and couldn’t suppress a smile as it came to life. The car was pushed to its limits as he swerved the car around a tight corner to keep up the chase.
Jozef Kiprich was in the car with his brother Gyorgy and looked back when he heard sirens coming from behind. To his amazement, a dented police car was in pursuit. Jozef screamed at his brother to push the ageing white Mercedes harder as he loaded his pistol in preparation to fire. He wound down the window and fired off six shots from his Heckler and Koch 9mm pistol.
Olsen adjusted his vision so not to look at the bullet holes in the windscreen and floored the accelerator. The two-litre engine cried out as he urged the vehicle on and caught up with the white Mercedes. In the small amount of spare time Olsen had for hobbies, he had become an expert on cars. He knew for certain the tank-like build of the 1960’s Mercedes car ahead would cut through the Police car he was driving like tin foil. I have to force it off the road! Olsen loosely fired off several shots from his Beretta and saw the back window of the Mercedes relent under fire and smash into tiny pieces.
Jozef raised his hands to his face as the glass sprayed the front seats. He looked around in time to see the driver of the police car take
aim with a silver pistol.
Olsen pulled the trigger twice but only one bullet fired from the chamber and that missed his target. He swore to himself and dropped the Beretta to the floor as he manoeuvred the police car to one side. Once in position, he smashed the car into the white Mercedes and did his best to force them off the road.
Jozef held onto what he could as the Mercedes struggled to stay on the road. He looked across at the Police car and realised that instead of an Omani Police officer, it was the MI6 agent he had seen from the harbour that was giving chase. An opening appeared ahead and Jozef screamed at his brother to make the turn.
Gyorgy turned the car violently, and the Mercedes smashed its way through the picnic area just off Al Qurm Heights Road. Several bodies flashed over the car bonnet and there were screams of panic from the innocent Omanis who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Olsen slowed down and followed the terrorists through the Picnic area. Smoke was billowing from the Police car’s engine but Olsen changed into fourth gear and hoped it wouldn’t give way.
Jozef looked back and screamed in frustration when he saw the police car still in pursuit. He grabbed the Heckler and Koch MP5 rifle from the backseat and without hesitation, fired off thirty shots and sprayed the police car’s windscreen with a flurry of bullets.
Olsen ducked down behind the steering wheel and dashboard and prayed for some luck. The noise was deafening. Bullets blasted the windscreen repeatedly. Most hit the dashboard or ripped into the front seats. When the attack ceased, he raised his head and found it impossible to see through the damaged glass. As he forced the car to accelerate one more time, he smashed his fist into the remains of the window and forced enough of it away so he could setup for one more collision.
Burton slowed down and pulled into the driveway of his house. Another day at MI6 was over. When opened the front door he called out to his wife, loud enough for her to hear but not enough for his son to be woken up. ‘Kate?’ All the lights in the house were off. Burton paused and waited to hear some noise from upstairs.
Silence.
Burton flicked the light switch and saw a letter that was stuck to the kitchen door. He felt puzzled initially and didn’t know what it could be about. ‘Maybe Kate’s gone off to see her sister…’ He mumbled. As he ripped open the envelope, something fell to the ground, but he chose to read the letter first. He read the words, but the information didn’t sink in completely, only patches. He started to repeat the words out aloud and felt numb with shock. ‘Oh god….oh god, no…no trust? Better for all of us?’ His eyes looked past the letter and there, on the wooden floor, was the wedding ring he had so carefully chosen all those years ago. Burton held it in his hand, and his eyes welled up as he realised what he had lost. One word came into his head straight away. OSCAR! Burton sprinted up the stairs faster than his frame would appear to allow and smashed into the young boy’s room. The cot was there but fifteen-month-old Oscar was nowhere to be seen. He cried out in pain as he slumped against the cot and dropped the letter and ring to the floor. His heart was reeling in shock but his mind processed the information, his wife and son were gone. Burton stared out into space and felt completely broken at the loss of his family. He closed his eyes and began to cry. Deep down he didn’t blame Kate but what else could he had done? He felt wracked with guilt, and a lasting urge to turn the clock back and redeem himself.
Olsen followed the Mercedes into Fahud Street and just missed a young Omani family on push bikes. By now, the car’s siren had long since been silenced by another rifle attack. The engine continuously cried out for relief, but Olsen was relentless and wasn’t going to give up until the terrorists were either dead or in custody. ‘Come on, come on!’ he shouted, as another warning light lit on the dashboard display. He floored the accelerator again and smashed the bonnet into the back of the Mercedes.
Jozef shouted in frustration as he knocked his head on the dashboard. 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.
Olsen saw the attack 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, but when he looked up again, he had no time to react as another rifle attack came but this time it was directed at his tyres.
Jozef smiled to himself as he continued to fire and saw the rubber tires blow out.
Olsen struggled at the wheel but couldn’t control the car. All he could hear was the sound of squealing tires and scraping metal as the car swerved again and smashed into the side of the nearby Maydan Al Fath Stadium. Olsen saw several locals come over to help. ‘Get away from here, move!’ He knew what was to come and locked his fiery glare onto the white Mercedes that had stopped further down the road. He counted in his mind as he struggled to tried to escape the 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 screamed 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 Police car and the resultant sparks caused the explosion that erupted just a few feet 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 drive away at speed.