WINDSONG: March 2012

Friday, March 23, 2012

SAECULUM ( A Novel: Part 29) – MATUTINUM XII, XII & XIV

SOL OCCAXUS (Sunset) Monday, 19 September, 2011

CREPUSCULUM (Evening Twilight)

I. Friday, 23 September, 2011
II. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
III. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
IV. Sunday, 16 October, 2011

VESPER (Evening Dusk)

I. Sunday, 23 October, 2011
II. Sunday, 30 October, 2011
III. Wednesday, 9 November, 2011
IV. Monday, 14 November, 2011
V. Monday, 14 November, 2011

CONCUBIUM (First Sleep – Coitus – Rest)

I. Thursday, 17 November 2011
II. Sunday, 20 November, 2011
III. Friday, 25 November, 2011
IV. Thursday, 1 December, 2011
V. Thursday, 1 December, 2011
VI. Thursday, 8 December, 2011
VII. Sunday, 11 December, 2011

INTEMPESTIUM (Midnight)

I. Sunday, 1 January, 2012
II. Thursday, 5 January, 2012
III. Saturday, 7 January, 2012
IV. Monday, 16 January, 2012
V. Sunday, 29 January, 2012
VI. Sunday, 29 January, 2012
VII. Friday, 3 February, 2012
VIII. Friday, 3 February, 2012

GALLICINIUM (Cock Crow)

I. Sunday, 12 February, 2012
II. Saturday, 18 February, 2012
III. Wednesday, 22 February, 2012

MATUTINUM (Dawn Goddess)

I. Monday, 27 February, 2012
II. Sunday, 4 March, 2012
III. Sunday, 4 March, 2012
IV. Friday, 9 March, 2012
V. Friday, 16 March, 2012
VI. Friday, 16 March, 2012
VII. Friday, 16 March, 2012
VIII. Friday, 16 March, 2012
IX. Wednesday, 21 March, 2012
X. Wednesday, 21 March, 2012
XI. Wednesday, 21 March, 2012
XII. Friday, 23 March, 2012
XIII. Friday, 23 March, 2012
XIV. Friday, 23 March, 2012

DILUCULUM (Dawn Twilight)
I.
II.
III.
IV.

SOLI ORTUS (Sunrise)

MATUTINUM

DAWN GODDESS

XII

Michael Mara drifted quietly away from the downstairs room where General Bob Arnold and the other agents were huddled around the console. He felt that he was in the way and so climbed back up the stairs to the balcony bedroom. The telescopes and audio-mikes remained on automatic and whirred and focused in response to commands from below. He stepped out onto the observation deck, having found a pair of binoculars. Across the narrow valley Alexander’s villa was lit up like a baseball game. Occasionally, in the dark shadows, bursts of orange flame could be seen and the noise from the alarms and the shots intermingled. It felt very real and very immediate and he knelt down, afraid of attracting a stray bullet. Through the binoculars he saw that there were figures on the balcony surrounding the villa. He recognised them as Alexander and Rod Mallory.

As he watched Michael had the sensation that the whole scene was being played out for him in cinematic slow motion. He saw Rod Mallory reaching over the balcony for the gun that he had hidden and then pointing it at Alexander’s back. He watched Alexander half-turn and then fall backwards out of view. He saw Rod then turn and point his gun at somebody else. He saw the figure crouch and recognised immediately that it was Isabella. He heard the shots and then watched as another figure ran onto the balcony. He soon realised it was another woman, Isabella’s athletic cousin, Zoë, with her wild eyes and wild red hair. There were more shots as she discharged a gun as she ran. She then stopped suddenly and slumped against the wall. He could not make out where Rod was and thought that he must be on the ground behind the balcony wall.

Isabella . . . he saw Isabella crawl forward toward Zoe. Thank God! He thought. “Look over here, Isabella. I’m here,” he whispered. There were more shots. She should get away from the villa as fast as possible, he realised. “Isabella. Get away. Run Isabella. Isabellllla . . .” he screamed out across the valley as loud as he could. Michael saw her suddenly look up and around somewhat confused. “She must have heard me,” he said aloud as he watched her disappear back into the shadows. Suddenly there was a noise there was a noise behind me and turning in fright, lifted the binoculars to swing them in his defense. It was Bob Arnold.

“Steady on Michael! It’s me! What’s happening up here?” the General grunted. “I heard shouting. I thought something had happened to you.”

“No. Nothing physical anyway,” Michael replied tersely as he turned back to look at the villa.

“Our teams nearly have control. Both al-Sa’igh and the man Sancho are down,” Arnold explained.

“Dead?” he asked.

“Unsure.”

“And the others?”

“Withdrawn to . . . Oh fuck! What’s that?”

Arnold rushed past Michael to the balcony. Ahead of them a bright blinding flash burst through the windows of the villa followed by a thunderclap that rolled across the valley. He thought he felt something pass close to his ear as he was thrown to the ground by the force of air. Arnold fell on top of him. “What’s happened?” Michael asked as he stared up into Arnold’s frightened face.

“Alexander’s place has blown. Stay down, Michael.”

Over the next ten minutes Michael heard the crackling death rattle of glass and masonry and occasionally another thunderclap sounded and debris bounced off the observation deck. He pulled out from under Arnold and lifted his head to the level of the rail. He needed to see what had happened. “Isabella! Oh no! Not you too, Isabella,” he cried out loud. Turning slowly away, he began to crawl back towards the bedroom across the glass-strewn deck.

“Where are you going, Michael? Come back!”

“I’ve got to go over there. Don’t stop me, Bob.” He stood up and began to race towards the door. He heard Arnold behind him barking orders into his radio-mike. Dave met him at the foot of the stairs. Michael pretended to stop and as the agent relaxed he ducked under his arm and out the main door.

Skirting the villa perimeter Michael opted for a direct route and a headlong run down the steep valley towards the villa on the other slope. He soon fell and tumbled out of control down through the groves of chestnut and oak. Down and down he tumbled. He could feel the low-level juniper bushes tear at his legs but did not care. Hitting a dry riverbed he got unsteadily to his feet. He heard somebody behind him but began to climb again. A piece of burning wood landed close to his head and sparks and smoke filled the air as they cascaded down on him from above. Suddenly his legs were held and he lashed out.

“Stop it, Michael, or I will shoot you to prevent you going any further.”

Michael stopped struggling. The tone and intent of Dave’s voice told him he meant it. “Dave! Please let me go. I must . . . I must . . .” He started to cry and searing uncontrollable tears coursed down his face. “Isabella’s in there. I must try to help her.”

“I know, but it’s not possible, Michael. It’s too fucken dangerous this way.”

XIII

Sa’id Alkahiri’s apartment on the New Jersey shoreline gave him an uninterrupted view across the Hudson River of the Manhattan skyline and the Statue of Liberty. It was a clear day with late summer sunshine glistening off the windows of the skyscrapers. The cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate and he took note of the caller identification number as he opened its flap.

“As-salamu aahalaykum, my brother!” a voice said.

“And peace, God’s mercy and His blessings be upon you too, my brother!”

“How does it go with you?”

“I leave tomorrow to perform my duty. The demon Massoud will take his leave of us soon.”

“You will be remembered as a true martyr of the Bayt Kathir. How will it be achieved?”

“I am posing as a journalist. Musallam al Bahr travels with me.”

“It is good to have friends at this time. God’s blessings be upon you both!”

“What of you, my brother.”

“It is very near, Hasan. We are prepared and the fatwa of our glorious leader will soon be achieved. We will punish the unbelievers for their defilement of the Holy Places.”

“Are Radiyyah and the children with you?”

“Yes, but they leave tomorrow for Doha. Tonight we will feast on the habshah and chew the tambul. Even now there the hawjiri frankincense is making the foul air of this putrid place smell of the mountains of the Jabal Samhan.”

“That is good, Sa’id. I will pray for them on their journey.”

“Thank you, Hasan.”

“I must go now, my brother. Goodbye.”

“We will meet each other on the ezirit road into paradise, my brother. May God wrap you in a bisht cloak of golden thread to help you on that journey. Farewell!”

XIV

As Michael Mara and the agent Dave re-entered the house after a climb back up the hill the echoes from explosions in Alexander’s villa still reverberated around the room.

“Michael,” a voice called from the living-room.

“Yes, Bob,” Michael said defeated and weary as he entered the room.

“Come with me, Michael, I need to talk to you.” Arnold’s said. “You can wash up later.”

Arnold’s tone was tautly serious and Michael saw so was the General’s facial expression. “What is it, Bob?” he asked.

“Let’s go in here.” Arnold directed as he pushed open the door of one of the other bedrooms and after a quick inspection invited him in. His features were ashen as he spoke, “I’ve some very bad news, Michael.”

“What is it Bob? Have they found Isabella?”

“No. It’s not about Isabella Sanjil, It concerns . . .” He began to shake his head. “. . . I don’t know how to say this.”

At that exact moment Michael knew what Arnold was going to tell him. Something had happened to Caroline. “Caroline?” him whispered.

“Caroline . . .” He looked away. “Has been found dead.”

“Jesus!” Michael felt the air around him evaporate.

“I’m so sorry.”

Michael hardly heard him. There had often been times in the past where, in lonely moments, he had played out this scenario in his head, particularly when his wife’s increasing Agency fieldwork appeared to become more and more dangerous. Sometimes he had wondered whether it was his concern for her or a concern for his work in Hoxygene that drove the abstract game of irrational anticipation. In his waking state the concerns were dismissed as responses of reasonable paranoia but sometimes in his sleep the nightmares of guilt were much more vivid. He had dreamt a coffin, draped with a confused top-spread of Union Jack crosses and Stars and Stripes, being lowered into a snow-blanket-covered ground of an English West Country church’s chestnut-pocked graveyard. He had dreamy seeing her face smile up at the sombre and grey-faced mourners as their handfuls of frozen earth hailed down to bounce off the varnished oak of the casket lid. Michael’s legs weakened, and he staggered to the edge of the room’s small bed and sat down. He stared wide-eyed at Arnold, wanting to disbelieve him. “What . . . What happened? When? Where?” he stuttered."Are you certain?"

“Mexico. Caroline was found. . .” Arnold stopped unable to look directly at Michael.

“Tell me, Bob. Fuck you! Don’t mess with me. Not with Caroline.” Michael stood up and pulled at Arnold’s jacket.

The soldier jerked away. “She was found with somebody else, Michael. A Mexican drugs enforcement officer. It looks like they were the victims of a cartel assassination.”

“Found where, Bob?”

“I . . . I don’t have all the details yet, Michael.”

Michael realised an evasion. “The fuck you don’t. Tell me, Bob!”

“I’m so sorry, Michael. It’s . . . it’s just that Caroline was found . . . They were found in his bedroom, in his bed, naked. Both killed with single shots to the head. She didn’t suffer, Michael.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shouted.

“Keep your voice down, Michael. We do not want to draw attention.”

“Fuck the attention, Bob. Who was the Mexican?”

“A man called Diego Rios. He is . . . he was a commander in the Federal Preventive Police and apparently part of the combined task-force she was briefing.”

Somehow, knowing his name made it worse for Michael. This man Rios suddenly had an identity, a life, and a past… a reality. He breathed, he lived, and he made love. Had he made love to Caroline? What was she doing with him? Why did she do it? She must have been drugged or threatened? He then thought of his own recent behaviour and the tone of their last conversation. Both of them were at risk, both of them had succumbed to that wanting. Caroline was dead, he was alive. He felt the guilt, she could feel nothing, he realised as he slid off the edge of the bed and slumped to the floor. He stared at the space between his feet, and began to open and close the gap between them like shutters. He needed to contact Caroline’s brother. He needed to make arrangements. He finally looked up at Arnold, who hovered, embarrassed and silent, above him. “Bob, ask Dave to drive me back to Ajaccio. I need to get back home.”

“Michael, nothing can happen tonight. Our plane will bring you to London in the morning. There is a flight to Mexico at mid-day. I have you booked.”

“Mexico?”

“Yes. Caroline’s body is in the morgue in La Paz. You have to go there to give a formal identification before an autopsy can occur.”

“An autopsy. No way.”

“Michael I’m really sorry but this goes all the way to the top. Both the American and Mexican Presidents have been informed. Caroline was part of a high priority joint federal task force.”

“I know.”

“A forensic autopsy will be automatic.”

“Shit. Not to Caroline it won’t!” Michael’s medical training had convinced him of the necessity of autopsies but this was personal and difficult to rationalize. He wanted to know everything and nothing about the circumstances of Caroline’s death.

“The coroner’s court will be in camera and all reports secret.”

It was as if Arnold had read Michael’s thoughts. “Will I have access, Bob?”

“Yes. You have top-level security clearance.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” he whispered. “Who would do this to Caroline, to us?”

The room was suddenly quiet but Bob Arnold continued to hover like a waiting vulture of sympathy. He moved closer and hunkered down onto his knees beside Michael. “Michael, there is something else I need to tell you about.”

“What else could there be Bob?” Michael said wearily, not listening and not caring. “What the fuck else could there be?”

“We think we know who might have been responsible for the kill . . . for shooting, Caroline.”

Michael’s head shot up. “What? Who?”

“How well did you know –”

At that moment the bedroom door swung open with a loud bang. Karl, clearly agitated, burst into the room. “General. Come back to base. Stat!”

“What is it, Karl?” Bob Arnold stood up.

“The French Security Minister and our Ambassador in Paris are on the lines. They are demanding your instant attention and are not happy campers.”

“Shit! Just what I need,” the senior officer groaned.

Karl and Arnold hurried out of the room. Michael shouted after them, “Bob, what were you going to tell me? Bob! Don’t leave me alone, please. ”

Arnold stopped and looked back down at him. “Michael, I really am very sorry. I wish there was more I could do to make it easier. Throw some water on your face and come after us. I’ll continue what I was saying there. I must go.”

Arnold was gone, and Michael Mara couldn’t move. As he rocked back and forward against the bed, he began to cry again: for Caroline, for them; for what they had had …once.

And he wished for hope and thought of Isabella.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

SAECULUM ( A Novel: Part 28) – MATUTINUM IX, X & XI

SOL OCCAXUS (Sunset) Monday, 19 September, 2011

CREPUSCULUM (Evening Twilight)

I. Friday, 23 September, 2011
II. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
III. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
IV. Sunday, 16 October, 2011

VESPER (Evening Dusk)

I. Sunday, 23 October, 2011
II. Sunday, 30 October, 2011
III. Wednesday, 9 November, 2011
IV. Monday, 14 November, 2011
V. Monday, 14 November, 2011

CONCUBIUM (First Sleep – Coitus – Rest)

INTEMPESTIUM (Midnight)

GALLICINIUM (Cock Crow)

I. Sunday, 12 February, 2012
II. Saturday, 18 February, 2012
III. Wednesday, 22 February, 2012

MATUTINUM (Dawn Goddess)

DILUCULUM (Dawn Twilight)
I.
II.
III.
IV.

SOLI ORTUS (Sunrise)

MATUTINUM

DAWN GODDESS

Charles Alexander stepped out of the shadows and expressed surprise when he did not find Rod Mallory waiting in the doorway. He barked into his mike, “Security. What’s happening?”

“Your visitor is on the balcony to the side of house. Looking over the valley.”

“Shit. Leave doorway scanner on. I’ll go out,” Alexander rasped as he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a small shoulder-holstered gun. He handed it to Isabella. “Solis, go back to the others and put the case for the Voices back in the safe. I’ll join you in a few minutes. Tell Sancho and al-Sa’igh to withdraw.”

“Ok,” she replied.

Alexander walked towards the balcony. Below him, in the courtyard, he saw Zoë talk to the driver of the Land Rover while Jena inspected the rear of the vehicle. Turning left he saw Mallory’s back. “Rod how are you? Why did you not come in?”

The Australian turned. He had a warm smile on his face. He held his hand out to take Alexander’s and shook it strongly. “Charles. I’m sorry. I was just taking a look over the valley. It’s a fair dinkum place you have here. Really beaut.”

“Thank you, Rod. Come inside.”

Alexander linked arms with Mallory and led him into the house. He relaxed a little when the doorway sensors did not detect a concealed weapon on the Australian. Isabella came to greet them. Alexander introduced her, “Rod. You will have heard me mention my personal assistant, Isabella Sanjil. Isabella this is Rod Mallory, finance director of Hoxygene.”

Isabella held out her hand. She was used to being instantly appraised by the men she met, but this one was different. He did not appear particularly interested. His handshake was cool, professional. “You are welcome, Mr Mallory. May I get you a drink?”

“Hi. Sure. A tinny please.”

“Sorry!”

“A beer thanks.”

Isabella turned and moved behind the counter bar. Alexander showed Mallory to a seat. “What happened in the car Rod? You took a long time to get out. My security staff, were concerned.”

“I noticed. I had to make a telephone call. Sorry.”

“Is there a problem?”

“What . . . Oh. . . Oh no. I was trying to speak to Michael Mara before you and I met.”

“Any luck? I too would like to arrange a meeting with him soon,” Alexander added.

“No. He is in the South of Spain somewhere. I could not track him down. I left a long message on his mobile phone though. That’s what delayed me.”

“I see.” Alexander said, disappointed.

“Don’t worry, cobber. Our arrangement is a fait accompli. I have the backing of both the institutional shareholders and his wife’s family to proceed with the deal. I just want to use this opportunity to thrash out our personal arrangement. My facilitator’s fee… as it were.”

“You do not beat around the bush. Do you, Rod?”

“No, Charles. Kill the snakes where they lie. Check out whether they are poisonous afterwards. That’s my approach.”

“I do not understand.” Alexander was genuinely puzzled.

“Sorry, mate. An Austalian aphorism. What I mean is that I prefer direct action. Tell it as it is. No misunderstandings. Comprenez vous?”

“Parlez-vous Francais?” Alexander asked, intrigued by Mallory's perfect accent.

“Oui. Bien sur mon ami. Español, Japanois et Italien aussi.”

“Surprising.”

“I’m a man of surprises, Charles. Do not underestimate me,” Mallory said coldly.

“Thank you for the warning, Rod. I’ll try not to. Ah good, here’s your beer. I hope it is cold enough. Thank you, Isabella.”

“Thank you.” Rod took the beer from Isabella and quickly downed a large draught.

Alexander sat opposite him. “Perhaps you would –” An urgent voice spoke into Alexander’s earpiece interrupting him. He stood up suddenly. “Excuse me a moment, Rod. There is a small matter I need to attend to.”

“Sure Charles. Take your time,” Mallory said with a smile.

Across the valley a radio cackled into life. The voice that spoke did so in a garbled and hurried way. “Base, this is Bravo Two. Come in. Urgent.”

“Go ahead Bravo Two.”

“A two man team near the entrance has just taken out the house security patrol.”

“Repeat, Bravo Two.” Karl looked up at General Arnold.

“House security patrol down. Both dead. Intruder team on driveway.”

“Copy Bravo Two. Wait.”

Arnold was circling the console station. Michael Mara felt he was in the way and moved to one side where he could still see the screens. Arnold eventually stopped and whispered something into Karl’s ear. The agent nodded and then relayed the instructions, “Bravo Two. Follow them in. If confronted you have permission to engage otherwise wait for orders.”

“Copy. Over and out.”

“Bravo One. Come in... Bravo One. Come in,” Karl repeated. “Bravo One. Please acknowledge.”

There was no response from the Bravo One team. Suddenly Dave rushed down the stairs down the stairs and shouted, “Switch to infra-red Karl. Valley in front of house! Bravo One’s sector.”

Karl threw a switch and a ghostly green-yellow colour came up on the screen. Occasionally there was a bright flash of white that exploded across the screen’s pixels. Arnold leaned forward and put the antenna mike on audio. The pflaaat sounds of muzzle-silenced shots were mixed with shouts. It suddenly went quiet. “Bravo One. Do you copy?” Karl shouted.

“Base, this is Bravo One. Leader down. Dead.”

General Bob Arnold grabbed the mike. “What the fuck happened?”

“Intruder team surprised us from behind. No warning.”

“Where are they now.”

“One down, other making for the house.”

“Stay with fallen leader. Bravo Three back-up team dispatched. Bravo Two. Come in.”

“Bravo Two,” the voice whispered.

“Take out intruder team in driveway.” Karl looked at Arnold who nodded.

“Repeat.”

“Take out intruder team!”

“Copy. Two minutes.”

The audio speakers started wailing. A shrill noise reverberated throughout the room. “What’s that?” Michael Mara asked as he tried shouting over the din.

Hank Sommers leaned forward to turn down the sensitivity. “House alarm. It’s gone active.”

Charles Alexander rushed back into the room. Sancho and al-Sa’igh with were with him. They were all armed. The house alarm was sounding with a piercing high-pitched screech. It did not stop.

Rod Mallory stood up. “What’s going on, Charles?”

“I don’t know. There are intruders in the grounds and one of my security patrols has gone silent. I must go out.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“It’s too dangerous. Stay here Mallory.”

“In for a penny, in for a pound. I’m well able to take care of myself and insist on coming with you.” Rod Mallory stood up. He was angry but did not want to show it. Had his team been detected? he wondered to himself. He had not given the signal and he needed to be sure. It might however be the opportunity he wanted.

Isabella noted Mallory’s agitation but admired his apparent coolness. Alexander hesitated for a moment, appraising the Australian before agreeing. “Very well, but stay close to me. These two gentlemen are Sancho and al-Sa’igh, friends of mine.”

“You bet cobber!” Mallory nodded in the direction of the two men.

Alexander led them out the doorway and while al-Sa’igh and Sancho fanned to the right, he and Mallory spun to the left. They saw a single figure darting across the ground beneath the overhanging balcony. He stopped and turned. There was a flash of orange. A bullet ricocheted off the wall beside them, gouging out a piece of masonry that whizzed past Mallory’s ear. He smiled. Alexander cursed then started firing. Wildly.

More shots were returned from below. A voice bellowed out, “Mictlan!” Mallory smiled again. It was their team’s code word; the Aztec for the ‘Abode of the Dead’. His thoughts raced. One of his men was below him. His team must have been detected, but it was still an opportunity. He pretended to take cover by dropping to the ground and rolling up against the balcony wall. Happy that Alexander was sufficiently distracted further down the balcony he reached over and retrieved the gun he had secreted earlier. In one movement he released the safety catch and had it pointed at the back of Alexander.

“Charles, look out!” Isabella screamed a warning but she was too late. She watched as Alexander half-turned only to be catapulted backwards, as the spray of bullets from Mallory’s gun ripped into his chest and shoulder. There was an immediate splattering of the whitewashed walls and windows with a spray of blood. Alexander fell heavily against the balcony rail and seemed to balance there for a moment before the force of the impact caused his body to topple over and crash into the valley below. Isabella looked around. Mallory had turned and from his crouched position was now aiming up at her. She pulled back behind the corner of the doorway as bullets tore into the masonry. There was a wild shout from behind her as Zoë ran up the steps and onto the balcony. Her face was wild, agitated, excited. Isabella put out her hand, instinctively, to stop her. She brushed past it and, firing from her hip as she went, rounded the corner where Isabella sheltered. Shots were exchanged and just as suddenly it all went quiet. Isabella bent down to her knees and cautiously took a quick look around the corner. She saw that Zoë was slumped against the house wall, groaning, holding her stomach. Between her and the balcony railing, Mallory lay stretched out. His body twitched, his eyes stared upwards into space. Blood poured from a large entrance wound in his forehead. It pooled like a halo about his neck. Isabella crawled forward.

Zoë cried-out as she approached, “I feel so cold, Isabella. Help me.”

“Hold on, Zoë. Hold on!” Isabella reached out her hand.

Zoë took it, her head lolled from side to side. She groaned, “Where’s Charles? Tell Charles I need him. Tell him I loved him. Oh God, Isabella! I’m so cold.”

“I will Zoe. Hold on. Please hold on,” Isabella cried. The athlete’s mouth suddenly began to fill with blood with blood. Almost immediately her body started to jerk and just as suddenly her grip on Isabella relaxed and the groans stopped. In the background there was still the staccato noise of shots being fired. Isabella slipped her hand from Zoë’s and cautiously stood up. She moved forward to the railing and peered down into the darkness. Suddenly, from far away, she could hear a familiar voice screaming her name.

“Isabella! Get away. Run Isabella! Isabelllllla!”

Friday, March 16, 2012

SAECULUM ( A Novel: Part 27) – MATUTINUM V, VI, VII & VIII

SOL OCCAXUS (Sunset) Monday, 19 September, 2011

CREPUSCULUM (Evening Twilight)

I. Friday, 23 September, 2011
II. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
III. Thursday, 29 September, 2011
IV. Sunday, 16 October, 2011

VESPER (Evening Dusk)

I. Sunday, 23 October, 2011
II. Sunday, 30 October, 2011
III. Wednesday, 9 November, 2011
IV. Monday, 14 November, 2011
V. Monday, 14 November, 2011

CONCUBIUM (First Sleep – Coitus – Rest)

INTEMPESTIUM (Midnight)

GALLICINIUM (Cock Crow)

I. Sunday, 12 February, 2012
II. Saturday, 18 February, 2012
III. Wednesday, 22 February, 2012

MATUTINUM (Dawn Goddess)

DILUCULUM (Dawn Twilight)
I.
II.
III.
IV.

SOLI ORTUS (Sunrise)

MATUTINUM

DAWN GODDESS

After General Arnold and the agents Karl and Sommers left to go downstairs the bedroom became very quiet apart from the noise of Dave’s breathing. It came in short bursts as he listened intently through the earmuffs of a radio direction mike. Moving closer, Michael Mara saw that one of the cables coursing across the floor had become detached from the mike’s receiver unit. He tapped Dave on the shoulder and whispered, “Dave.”

The agent startled. “What?”

“One of the cables has come loose.” Michael pointed towards the ground.

“What? Oh thanks.”

Michael watched as the previously cool agent flustered while reattaching the cable. “Are you picking up anything? May I listen?”

“What? Oh no. It’s very garbled. There was a mention of your stealth virus however and Alexander was wondering where you might be.”

“If only he knew!”

“Yeah,” the agent agreed as he replaced the earmuffs.

From where Alexander, Isabella, al-Sa’igh and Sancho sat they could see the groaning Israeli Hertzog being dragged through the front door. His legs trailed behind him and he had one hand clasped over the weeping eye. Zoë looked back briefly at Alexander before she descended the steps. Isabella saw him give a slight but unmistakable nod of his head.

“What is the agenda now, Sahib al-Zuhur?” the Afghan, al-Sa’igh asked as he pulled a tin of tobacco from his pocket and began to roll a cigarette. Expertly he soon finished and offered the tin to Sancho. The smell of hashish wafted through the room.

Alexander waited for them to finish. He declined to smoke. “Mara’s business partner, the Australian Rod Mallory, will be here shortly under the pretense of finalizing my take-over plans for Hoxygene. I’ll use him to flush Mara out. You, and Sancho are to make yourselves scarce.”

“I did not mean your commercial activities, Overlord, though I wish them well. May Allah watch over you,” Hasan al-Sa’igh said in an irritated manner. Isabella saw Alexander bristle as the Nuristani continued, “I need to know how we are going to tackle the Taliban. You have the Voice as requested as well as access to the opium. My people will question my wisdom in these matters unless I can bring back a workable plan as well as funding.”

“I understand your concerns, Sahib al-Sa’igh and that is why I have asked Sancho to be here.”

“What do you mean Overlord?”

“Sancho and his fellow members of the Khannakiya have agreed, for a considerable consideration it must be said, to undertake the task of assassinating all of the Taliban leadership. This will - ”

“Is that true Sancho? Are you a member of the Khannakiya? Tell me!” Isabella looked shocked as she shot out the words.

“It is true, Solis, my sister.”

“I was saying, if you would allow me continue,” Alexander said with an amused sarcastic tone in his voice. He enjoyed revealing the unexpected. Nobody could relax. “They will be ready to begin their onerous duty in the New Year. Training camps are at operational status near Khorsud in Tajikistan. Targeting and information gathering is taking place as we speak. At that point, al-Sa’igh, you and your people had better be prepared to move. We will get one opportunity and one only. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Overlord. Forgive my doubts. May Allah bless you. We will hang and gut the dogs on their goalposts in Kabul. It will be a splendid victory. ”

“And profitable. You and Sancho will return together to Zurich. Some time will need to be taken to co-ordinate your operations. My chalet in Flims is at your disposal.”

“Thank you again, Overlord.”

In the background they all suddenly heard the sounds of muffled shots. Alexander stood up to getter a better view through the open doorway and Isabella joined him. He put an arm around her waist. She did not move away. “No loose ends, Solis. No loose ends!” he said. Suddenly the forecourt lights came on and both Zoë and the shaven-headed girl, who were standing near the rear of the car, startled and instantly stopped what they were doing. Alexander laughed as he spoke into a small microphone attached to his shirt, “Security. That must be Mallory. Confirm.”

“One Range Rover. Blacked-out windows. Moving very slowly. Two occupants,” a voice replied.

“Any other activity.”

“No. Vibration sensors and infra-red beams functioning at optimal status.”

“Good,” Alexander said as watch as the large jeep draw up. Zoë and the shaven-headed girl rushed up the steps. Zoë reached him first. “You and Jena were like rabbits out there. You seem very nervous Zoë. Why?”

“I have a strange sensation that we are being watched. I cannot pinpoint it,” the athlete assassin shrugged.

“When Mallory arrives you and Jena check out the car. Go outside and wait on the steps.” Alexander activated his mike again. “Security! Turn on weapons scan in doorway!”

“Copy that. Are you armed, Overlord?” The woman’s tone was polite.

“Yes.”

“Step away a little bit more please. You will activate the machine.”

Alexander stepped back into the shadows to where Isabella had waited and they watched as the large vehicle pulled up. The engine was cut and the car’s headlights turned off but there was no movement to open the doors. He waited. “Security. What the fuck is happening?” he rasped with an edge in his voice.

“Sensors indicate an opened telecommunications link from the car. Probably making a telephone call. Cannot be more specific than that,” the female security officer explained.

“Shit.” Alexander pulled away from Isabella. “Security. Zoë and Jena are going outside and will check the car. Order full perimeter check, section by section. Night vision equipment. Now!”

“Permission to shut down vibration and infra-red sensors.”

“Section by section only. Stay ahead of them. Understand!”

“Understood.”

VII

The two men in the car inhaled deeply. “It’s some set up. Our sensors and cameras confirm vibration mikes and infra-red. What should we do?” Luis Gonzalez asked.

Rod Mallory could see two women waiting near the top of the steps that led up to the house. “They look nervous," he observed. "I suspect that they will check us out and then the car. We’ll wait here for a while. Let them stew a bit. Force them to act.” Mallory pressed a console button to activate an open line to his teams. “This will get them going,” he laughed.

Eventually the two women outside the doorway of the house began to descend the steps. They made no secret of the fact that they carried guns. A small jeep exited from a side entrance and with screeching wheels accelerated down the driveway.

“Bingo, you beauts, a textbook response,” Rod Mallory said sarcastically as he watched. He lifted the console handset and spoke in a low voice. “Sierra One. Patrol coming, two lizards. Await opportunity to take them out. Once in, use the driveway. Frontal take out. Sierra Two. Probably another patrol dispatched to a different sector. Move to valley side of house. Wait for my signal. Over and out.” The connection severed, Mallory pushed the door open and exited the car. He bounded, with a big grin on his face past the two women on the steps, towards the doorway.

VIII

General Bob Arnold sat down in the chair beside the agent who was operating the console of monitors in the downstairs lounge. “What’s going on?”

“Put on this ear piece, General. We’ve lost the signal from inside the house but I’m getting good reception from the courtyard and doorway area. The villa is going hot.” The agent did not divert his eyes from the screens as he pushed the radio headset towards Arnold.

“What do you mean?” Arnold picked up the headset and put it on.

“Listen and look at that monitor sir. Alexander has started issuing lots of orders and something is happening on the steps.” The agent pointed to one of the screens. Two shadowy figures could be seen dragging a third person down the steps towards one of the parked cars. Reaching a large Mercedes sedan the bigger of two helpers leant the slumping third over the shinning silver bonnet while the other pulled out a set of keys and deactivated the cars central locking.

“Who’s that over the hood?” Arnold moved in close to the screen.

“The Israeli Hertzog, I think,” the agent answered.

“Drunk?” Arnold offered.

There was a brief silence. “Perhaps. They are being very rough with him though. Jesus!”

“What?” It was Hank Summers voice. He stood behind Arnold and the agent at the console. “Its very dark but the smaller of the two figures is opening the trunk. They are shoving Hertzog into the fucken’ trunk.”

“What should we do?” Arnold looked up at Sommers.

“Radio the field team to try and get closer. Hold it . . . Shit!” They watched as one of the women drew a gun and pointed it into the trunk. They couldn’t see Hertzog’s body but two distinct ppfaaaft sounds were picked up on the mikes.

“Jesus, they’ve murdered him.” Arnold stood up. “We’re fucken useless over here.”

Just at that moment the vibration and audio mikes lit up their signals. “Car coming.” The console agent said as he flicked a switch. “Bravo team. Car coming. Confirm previous instruction on movement. This is opportunity to move within perimeter. Copy?”

“Copy base. Moving in.” The response was a metallic echo.

The forecourt lights came on again. The monitor pictures were no longer hazy. The scene was lit up like a night hunt. “They must be activated by the roadway sensors. It’s caught those two who have just shot Hertzog out. Who are they?” Arnold asked.

“Taller shaven-headed woman unidentified but Alexander called her Jena. House security staff probably. Codename assigned Amazon One. Smaller red-headed woman recognized, codename Zoë,” Hank Sommers answered.

“That’s Zoë, Isabella Sanjil’s cousin, the girl who left me back to the café,” Michael suddenly said quietly from behind them as he and Dave arrived down from the upper floor.

They then all watched silently as the trunk was closed and the two women ran back up the steps and into the house. After a few minutes they came back out again and took up a position near the top of the steps. The incoming jeep soon drew up into the forecourt and stopped. Nothing happened for the next five minutes and the lack of activity irritated them all. “What gives?” Arnold asked.

At that precise moment the passenger door opened and a tall man unwound himself from the seat and stepped out. “Rod Mallory. What the fuck is he doing here?”

Arnold, Sommers and the console agent all turned simultaneously to see Michael Mara staring, his face flushed, at the monitor screens.

“Mallory identity confirmed,” Karl shouted from the far side of the room and a smaller bank of screens.

They then watched as the Australian bounded up the steps past the descending women. They seemed to hesitate for a moment, glaring at him as they unslung their weapons. Ignoring them, Mallory reached the patio in front of the doorway where he stopped abruptly and turned to walk towards the side of the house that overlooked the valley. There was a small low balcony wall and he leant against it.

“What’s he doing?” Arnold spoke again.

“Pretending to take in the view. He’s . . . he’s planting something on the outside wall, just under the balcony. It’s. . . camera three, zoom in. . . there, see!” Karl pointed to the enlarged and rapidly enhancing screen image. “It looks like a gun. Confirm Bravo One.”

“Confirmed. Automatic pistol. Beretta probably.”

“What the hell is happening here guys? Would somebody please fucken tell me,” Arnold said angrily.