CHAPTER 22
‘Si vis pacem, para bellum’
Hannah picked up her Motorola MX-360 radio and surveillance kit and stepped out of the suite and onto the balcony, standing under a maroon awning as the rain gently came down. Looking over the Canale di San Marco, she placed her earpiece in and turned the radio and switched to channel four. ‘Alpha-One this is Zulu-Alpha, over.’
‘Alpha-One.’
‘In location, suite 501. Be advised we have some pretty dangerous-looking guys that have checked into room 410. I’ve spotted three already, but unsure if there is more. They are conceal-carrying – most likely pistols, from what I could establish. What’s your ETA, over?’ she asked.
There was a slight pause before Devereaux replied sotto voce, ‘Si vis pacem, para bellum, Hannah.’
‘My Latin is a little rusty,’ she answered.
‘If you want peace, prepare for war,’ he replied.
‘We’re 20 to 30 minutes out. The package is en route to your location, well at least that’s what we think will happen. Kozlov and crew are on a Riva speedboat heading along the Canal Grande. They’re about five minutes ahead of us. James has jumped into another boat and is following Kozlov’s movements, while Mick will remain on the top floor of the parking complex, tracking the cases. Once the cases are at your loc, he’ll close down and join us. I’m with Vince, Peter, Dave and Alex heading along the Rio Nuovo canal and will be at your location about ten minutes before Kozlov. I’ll call again when we’re about to arrive.’
‘Copy that,’ Hannah replied. Time to sit back, watch and wait.
Devereaux looked at his Breitling; it was already 0816hrs, and he and most of the team had managed to get intermittent parcels of sleep during the 3.5-hour drive to Venice.
James, Hannah and Mick were the exceptions, of course, as James had been on the Ducati the whole time, and Mick, well he had his face glued to the screen monitoring the cases. Hannah had proven invaluable and was a significant asset to Mantra-6.
Devereaux pondered the fluid situation unfolding, and the orders he had been given regarding the confirmation of the buyers. He could have had the U-235 by now, and taken care of Kozlov as well as Drozdov, but Canberra had other plans – what plans did Webb have up his sleeve?
Fuck, there’s no time for rest, and little time for intricate planning – Mantra-6 will have to push through and make it up as the situation dictates. Hell, Devereaux had done this type of planning time and time again; it was chaos, and that’s where he worked best.
As for the rest of Mantra-6, they were used to an ever-evolving operation, so clearly their heart rates hadn’t skipped a beat. Devereaux was pissed off that there had been changes to the mission, particularly at the most critical time. The ‘risk versus reward’ weighed heavy on him; if they had lost contact with the cases, they might never have been able to trace and recover them – and for what? The name of the buyers?
The only thing Devereaux could think of was that there was going to be some reciprocity somewhere down the track. Nevertheless, Devereaux planned to have a long, hard chat with Webb once he caught up with him.
The water taxi began to speed up as it entered the Canal Grande and headed towards the San Marco Vallaresso taxi port.
‘Vince, I want you and Peter to get off at the next stop and walk along the canal’s edge to the Venetian Palace Hotel and see if you can pick up any surveillance assets that may belong to the Russians or the Iranian buyers. We know there are three armed Iranians using room 410, but unsure if there are any others. I’ll get off at the San Zaccaria stop and head inside the hotel to RV with Hannah. Alex, take Dave and head further down the canal and get off at Arsenale and then recon the route back along the Riva Ca’ di Dio.’
Devereaux looked at both Vince and Alex and added, ‘Once you’ve done your sweep back towards the hotel, take up vantage points and maintain surveillance on approaches to and from the hotel. When James arrives, I’ll put him on the balcony above. James will keep overwatch onto the Riva degli Schiavoni and provide cut-off as required. Mick will continue the tracking the cases, so hopefully, we’ll have this wrapped up tonight. With any luck, this rain will persist or get heavier so that tourists will be out of our way. Let’s try and get this all done with the least amount of bloodshed.’
Vince glanced across at Devereaux. He looks young for 42, but those eyes, they seem to have lived for a hundred years. A man of such experience, yet so flawed in many ways, just like the rest of us, he thought.
He remembered Devereaux in the Regiment before he left for Swan Island; the man was not part of the ‘in crowd’ that the Regiment was renowned for, but rather, he was a loner in many ways – comfortable operating alone, yet equally adept at leading a team.
Over the years, Devereaux had acquired many skill sets not taught in the Regiment. A quiet undertone surfaced among the men in the unit, and the word about his exploits had gradually surfaced in the halls of the SAS – he had become somewhat of an enigma.
Vince remembered the first time he met Devereaux. Vince was a young, fresh volunteer on the SAS Selection Course. Almost instantly, he had the attention of every volunteer when he was in a navigation lesson on day one – first lesson: where a candidate forgot to bring a pencil to the class.
Much to the horror of all the students, Devereaux told the student to stand, collect his shit and fuck off back to the unit that he came from. He had every student looking down at their desk, double-checking that they had every piece of equipment they needed. Over the years, Devereaux had taught Vince much of what he knew about Special Ops, and it was the very reason why he had such respect for him.
Devereaux glanced up. ‘What’s up, Vin?’
‘I was just thinking how far we’ve come, from the early days of my selection course to sitting in this Riva playing a high-stake game of international intrigue,’ Vince responded with a grin. ‘You know we have a great crew, Dev, and I wouldn’t want to be doing this shit with anyone else but this team.’
Devereaux nodded and said, ‘Well, it’s up to you and me to get everyone home in one piece so we can chat about it over a beer.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Your stop is just up here on the left; when you and Pete are in position, let me know. Remember, this is a highly fluid op, so be ready to react to changes at a moment’s notice.’
The Riva came to a halt alongside a small wooden jetty that was fitted with two planks providing a narrow walkway up to the stone-paved Riva degli Schiavoni. Vince and Peter quickly disembarked and immediately went about their business as the boat reversed out and headed farther down the canal to drop off Devereaux.
As the boat passed the Piazza San Marco and the Palais des Doges, Devereaux prepared himself to disembark. The persistent rain had been a blessing in disguise, a fact that he was grateful for because it limited the number of tourists along the Schiavoni, making it easier to manoeuvre on foot and ensuring there were fewer people to deal with.
When Devereaux disembarked the Riva, he noticed a few boat pens over to the right, as well as a man in a blue tracksuit working inside a speedboat – Middle Eastern with a solid build and shaved head. He wore a thick black beard that cupped his jawline and finished abruptly level with the base of his ears. As the man leaned forward, Devereaux noticed a bulge in the centre of his back at waist level. He was most definitely carrying a firearm and looked as though he could handle himself when the time came.
Devereaux made a mental note of the man and dashed towards the hotel entrance to avoid the rain. As he entered the hotel foyer, a man wearing an old wet-weather coat passed him at the entry, their shoulders colliding softly, their hands exchanging a piece of paper.
‘Mi scusi, signore,’ said the man as he made his way out onto the Riva degli Schiavoni and walked briskly away towards the Piazza.
‘Va bene, signore,’ Devereaux replied and then turned his attention to the lobby. He glanced around and saw Hannah sitting at a small table, a cup of coffee in front of her.
She immediately stood and ran across to him and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the lips. ‘Happy anniversary, honey.’ She hugged him again, giving Devereaux enough time to scan the lobby and slide his right hand into his pocket, securing the piece of paper Connor had just given him in a Brush Contact.
‘Happy anniversary, baby.’ Devereaux kissed her once again, and then the pair moved across to the table and sat.
Hannah gestured to the waiter for another coffee. ‘So, how was your trip?’ Hannah asked.
Devereaux looked casually across the lobby to a small cluster of leather chairs positioned near the window. A man sat reading a newspaper, a cigarette placed on an ashtray in front of him; the burnt tobacco trail still intact indicated the man had not picked it up in some time. His focus was elsewhere, perhaps watching who came and went from the hotel. The man appeared tired; perhaps he was like Devereaux, deprived of sleep due to circumstances out of his control. ‘My trip was uneventful,’ he replied. ‘But this weather is not what I hoped for,’ he added with a shrug.
The waiter walked over towards Hannah’s table and placed a coffee down in front of Devereaux, turned to Hannah and asked if that would be all.
Hannah raised her hand, smiled and gestured ‘yes’, and the waiter turned and walked away. She leaned forward taking Devereaux’s hand in hers and gazed lovingly into his eyes, reprising her role of the loving partner. She glanced over at the reception desk and saw Camilla looking in her direction and smiled; Camilla raised her hand as if to congratulate her. Hannah turned back towards Devereaux and said in a soft voice, ‘Your 12 o’clock – man reading a newspaper; he is one of three men I’ve picked out so far. One of the men, the guy in a blue tracksuit, is outside in a white speedboat, and another man, I presume is in their room upstairs, as I haven’t seen him again.’
Devereaux looked over towards the hotel door. In the periphery of his vision, he studied the man sitting by the window, without staring at him.
‘He was sitting at that table next to us when I first checked in.
He has since moved over to the window. All three men look Middle Eastern, and I heard two of them speaking Farsi, so I presume they are Iranian. So far, I haven’t seen anyone else who looks vaguely like buyers in the hotel.’ Hannah stopped talking and smiled brightly at Devereaux, once again covering the type of conversation they were having.
Devereaux returned the smile to Hannah and then raised the coffee cup to his lips. He surveyed over the top of the cup the man reading the newspaper. On the table in front of the man, the cigarette that was perched on the ashtray had now burnt down to its filter. Devereaux placed his cup down and leaned forward. ‘The guy at the window is static surveillance. He’s waiting for something or someone, or both. Perhaps we should head up to the room and prep from there. I’ll call Alex to replace us in the lobby. Vince and Peter will be in position by now, and I expect Kozlov will be here in about five minutes, so we have no time to lose.’
From the balcony, Devereaux moved closer to the edge and peered over the small concrete balustrade and saw the man in the blue tracksuit still in the speedboat taking shelter from the persistent rain. He looked at the rear of the boat and noticed that the engines weren’t running, as there were no visible fumes in the cold air from the exhaust.
Looking back along the Riva degli Schiavoni towards the Piazza San Marco, he noted there were very few people out and about, as the rain had kept the tourists at bay. On the canal, he saw several water taxis and other vessels making their way to and from canal ports. In his coat pocket, he felt the gentle vibration of his phone. As he reached into his coat pocket, he stepped back from the balustrading and answered the phone.
‘There in two minutes,’ came James’ voice.
‘Looking forward to seeing you, come straight up to the suite – 501,’ Devereaux responded.
Hannah went back inside the room and placed a bag on the bed. She unzipped it to reveal several weapons. She reached in and took out two H&K MP5-SDs suppressed submachine guns and started assembling them and placed a 30-round magazine on each weapon. ‘Dev,’ Hannah said and threw him two 20-round magazines for his Glock 19.
‘Thanks. Silencer?’ he asked.
Hannah took out a silencer and passed it to him.
Devereaux placed the extra magazines inside his coat pocket and the silencer in the other.
Hannah passed Devereaux a white bathrobe and told him to put it on, and she did the same, and then she walked over towards him and gave him an empty coffee cup. Hannah took him by the arm and walked back out onto the terrace and watched as Kozlov’s speedboat pulled up outside the Venetian Palace Hotel.
‘Nice touch; two lovers sharing an early morning coffee overlooking Venice.’ Devereaux placed the coffee mug up to his lips and pretended to take a sip.
‘Well, we are in Venice, and we need to look the part,’ she replied, beaming up at him.
Devereaux slid his hand into his coat to remove the piece of paper Connor had passed him. It read:
Exfil Loc: Aeroporto Nicelli – Venice
Means: Self-Pilot / De Havilland Twin Otter – DHC-6-600/
Parked at the S.W. end of the airstrip
Handover Point: Sarnen Airport – Switzerland
END//
‘What the fuck,’ he said loudly.
Hannah glanced over at him with a questioning look.
‘Our means of extraction is via self-piloted Twin Otter – I’ve never flown that type of aircraft – what the hell were they thinking?’
‘I think that part of the message is for me. So, it’s lucky you have me, then,’ she replied.
‘Oh? How’s that?’
‘I can fly it, so we’re all good.’ Hannah gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
Devereaux glanced at her and couldn’t help thinking that this woman just kept getting better and better. She was full of surprises at every turn.
Devereaux began burning the message in an ashtray as Hannah continued to watch the play unfold below them.
Further up the Riva Schiavoni, James exited the boat and began walking towards the hotel, still clearly in visual of Kozlov.
Kozlov stood on the dock and started issuing commands to his men. Drozdov walked past Kozlov and positioned himself clearly to observe his surroundings.
He’s a professional, Devereaux thought as he looked down on them from the balcony, and out of all the Russian’s below, he seems the one to be most careful of.
As Drozdov moved, Devereaux noticed that he was still carrying injuries from the other night – a lucky escape.
By now, the Russian boss wouldn’t be a happy man. For the Vory V Zakone, the past 72 hours had seen a massive haemorrhage of cash, drugs, assets and future earnings. Even with the successful trade of the U-235, Kozlov would just about be breaking even after the loss of the Coco Cubano.
He was furious, and that was evident as Devereaux watched the Russian continue to bark orders to his men to hurry up.
Drozdov hobbled ahead and entered the lobby, walking across to the reception desk.
Alex looked over the top of his coffee mug as the tall Russian had passed by and then looked over at the Iranian sitting by the window.
The Iranian, dressed in a casual light-coloured suit, closed his newspaper and rested it on the table in front of him. He glanced across at Kozlov and then back to Drozdov, his attention giving away his cover, and Alex quickly picked up on it.
Kozlov looked around and then sat at a table next to Alex, his two bodyguards standing next to him. The Pelican cases containing the U-235 were almost in arms reach, yet so far away, as Alex was unable to do anything about it.
Drozdov walked over to the lift, a slight limp still evident from his recent injuries in Nice.
Kozlov stood and made his way across to the elevator and waited for the door to open.
As the lift doors closed, Alex stood up, folded his newspaper and walked across to the newsstand, replacing the paper, and then he perused through the rack of papers as if he was choosing another. However, his peripheral vision was focused on the floor indicator above the elevator doors: two … three … four, the lift went straight to level four and stopped.
Alex selected another newspaper and went back to his seat and ordered another coffee.
The Iranian by the window stood and placed some money on the table. He then walked briskly towards the lift just in time for the doors to open. A couple exited the elevator, and as they did so, the Iranian man, not waiting until they had fully exited, pushed his way passed them, bumping his shoulder into the elderly woman.
She looked back at the rude man in disgust and said, ‘Scusi!’
The Iranian man glared at her and leaned forward and pushed a button without saying a word. The doors closed, and the couple moved towards the café, shaking their heads.
Along the Riva degli Schiavoni, James made his way to the Venetian Palace. As he closed on the hotel, he walked past Vince, who was sitting at a café drinking coffee under a dark-green awning attached to the building next to the hotel.
He walked into the lobby and went directly over to the lift. When the doors opened, he entered, pushing the number five on the panel and looked back into the lobby before the doors fully closed; he saw Alex strategically positioned covering the lobby.
At suite 501, James tapped on the door and waited. Devereaux, his Glock-19 held firmly in his right hand, looked through the peephole on the door and then opened it to let James in.
‘Hey,’ James said to Devereaux when he opened the door. He then walked into the suite, saw Hannah and raised his eyebrows.
‘What’s happening?’
Devereaux walked over to the bed, picked up one of the H&K MP5-SDs and gave it to James. ‘Kozlov and crew have arrived. They’re in room 409, which adjoins the Iranian’s room, 410. There’s an Iranian in a speedboat outside directly in front of the hotel. He’s wearing a blue tracksuit and has remained in the boat since we arrived. I think that he’ll provide the means of extraction for the buyers. As yet, we haven’t ascertained what Kozlov’s extraction will be, but we know it won’t be to the rear of the hotel, as all access there is cut-off. We envision that he and his team will walk straight out the front door … to where, who knows, but they’ll be stopped before they get too far.’
James was soaking up all the info like a sponge.
‘Your task is to provide overwatch from the balcony and prevent the Iranians from leaving in that boat,’ Devereaux added.
‘What about the tourists? It’s broad daylight, and that could cause a problem.’ James felt cautious.
‘You’re right, mate, it’s a problem, but I think that risk will be minimised with all this rain. As you can see, the Riva degli Schiavoni is almost deserted. Let’s hope it stays this way. Whatever cards we’re dealt is what we must deal with. One thing is for sure, though, I think this will all be over very soon. Head out onto the terrace and take up your position.’
James nodded and proceeded to get himself ready.
‘Hannah, I want you to head over to the plane and get it ready. I don’t think we’ll have much time after we retrieve the cases, as we’ll need to be airborne as quickly as possible. Once you’ve landed at Sarnen, leave the plane there and head back to Paris by any other means as quickly as possible. I’ll contact you there,’ Devereaux said with some urgency.
James looked over to Devereaux and Hannah and knew that they were at the pointy end of the mission, and whatever was going to happen next was most likely going to be utter chaos.
‘Heading there now; stay in comms with me, okay,’ Hannah said as she grabbed her daypack and headed towards the door.
Devereaux stood motionless for a few seconds, clearly pondering the current situation. ‘Now that all players are in place, they won’t hang around; instead, they’ll get the task done, depart Venice and indeed Italy as quickly as possible.’ He looked across at the terrace and followed James out.
The Iranian had started the speedboat and seemed to be getting ready to depart.
Devereaux picked up his MX-360 radio and did a radio check to ensure all his men were listening. ‘All Alpha and Zulu call signs, be prepared to move at short notice, as all actors are onsite, and their task looks like it may conclude shortly. Vince, once the cases are placed on the speedboat, James will engage with an MP5-SD and neutralise all players on the boat. You, Peter and Alex are to take command of the boat and depart this location immediately and RV at the south-western end of the Aeroporto Nicelli, where you’ll marry up with Hannah for immediate departure. Don’t wait for anyone else; that cargo must be airborne without delay.
‘Alex, you’re to ensure you collect any and all documentation from those in the boat. Be sure to take facial photographs of each target. Before you go to the RV with Hannah, set the speedboat on a course out to sea and have a timer on the fuel tank – the boat needs to be destroyed, along with any remaining evidence on board. Vince, hand over the cases, documents and photos to the contact at the destination airfield. You’ll know the contact on sight.
‘James and Dave, you’re with me. Our task is to neutralise Kozlov and his crew. After our task is completed, disburse independently, dumping all weapons and equipment in the lagoon and depart Europe immediately.
‘Mick, close down your equipment on my command and destroy it, then depart the country immediately. We’ll RV back at the farm in two weeks from today. Acknowledge?’
Each team member acknowledged.
Devereaux reached into his coat pocket and took out his mobile phone. He dialled a number and then said, ‘We are a go.’