The Sniper and The Spy: Nyanga Crossroad - book one - part one

By Peter Court

The Sniper and The Spy - book one part one Nyanga Crossroad

The two brothers Wallace; elder brother David is an agent and spy for British Intelligence
Counter Terrorism MI6 whilst younger brother John Wallace is a freelance assassin who enjoys the act of creative misfortune and death; other people's misfortune and death.

David Wallace, agent and spy of MI6 is becoming increasingly cynical about the direction his career is evolving. Before he embarks upon a covert mission to a US Military facility there came an introduction to a middle-aged South African Xhosa and a promise of untold wealth in $ US dollars and uncut blood diamonds; "For exchange of information, any type of sensitive or classified information. In particular, a specific formula stored on multi-colored flash drives, yes?" At the behest of the Mandarins of British Government and his employers at MI6, the spy David Wallace is tasked to obtain the formulae the South African had alluded to. David Wallace began to consider his future; "my life in the real world!" By acquiring the much coveted flash drives he may at last; "find himself?"

Book one - part one "Nyanga Crossroad." The primary action is in Edinburgh Scotland and London England. Then a meeting in the ethnic townships of Cape Town South Africa between the spy David Wallace, the "Agent Provocateur" South African gangster Winston and the Sri Lankan drugs and arms dealer Alohivira Rajapakse. Someone must win. Of the protagonists' involved in this espionage thriller, 'who'll survive the dramatic rendezvous at; "Nyanga Crossroad."'

Book two - part two "The Grimalkin Screamed." - The action continues across the Atlantic Ocean to South America where with unrequited attention the assassin Genesis is resolute in his quest to eliminate his elder step-brother the spy David Wallace and the Banjara sniper Remus Barr. The chase is on to recover the stolen formulae by agents of British Intelligence MI6, American CIA and other government agencies. During this prolonged pursuit Genesis without remorse or for-thought of malice, ensures "The Grimalkin Screamed."

Consider a used potato chip bag forever being crumpled and then released and you have an intriguing and sometime amusing story which like the crumpled chip bag unfolds with haunting purpose; much to the chagrin of one brother Wallace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Court
• Release date: Jun 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005595647

Peter Court

Indie Author - Published on Smashwords EditionOwner - Peter Court Media Services – Photographic and video servicesJanuary 2010/Present - Market Harborough - Leicester - UK

Book preview

A Synopsis Perhaps 'Wallace, no–one likes to be told of their limitations'

In the Beginning Forebears, Siblings Other Things

01–The Journey Begins: Some Years Later

02–Captured Opération Pas si 'faux pas

Chapters: 2–a through 2–o: Surreal Dreams

Dreams of Cognitive Preconscious

2 a–Winston the Agent Provocateur

2 b–The Maryland Operations Briefing

2 c–The Maryland Operation

2 d–The Maryland Operation Phase 1

2 e–The Maryland Operation Phase 2

2 f–Back to Blighty Job Done

2 g–The Maryland Operation Debriefing

2 h–The Suit and a Formula

2 i–The Comfort of Home

2 j–Familiarity Though the Looking Glass

2 k–A Bizarre Surreal Dream

2 l–Harbinger of a New Era

2 m–Final Briefing

2 n–Opération Pas si Faux Pas

2 o–Mardochée

Table of Contents 2

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Acknowledgements

Back to the Real World

03–It Was Only a Dream

04–Genesis–The Boy–The Man

05–A_Plan–Fulfil a Contract Ω 24

06–Execution of a Contract–Ω 24

07–Primeval Hell–The Corpse Exposed

08–Alohivira Rajapakse Is Coming

09–Blues and Two's

10–London and York

11–Unrequited Perfidy Perhaps–Remus Barr

12–Collaboration–Perfidious Intent

13–Unlucky for Some

14–Eden or Armageddon

15–Mr Pockmark–Modus Operandi

16–Eliminate a Witness–Bill Johnson

17–Eliminate an Assassin–Genesis Johnny

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Acknowledgements

18–The Long Road to Interrogation

19–Genesis–Red Herring

20–Cadfael Albert

21–Shaw Mills–The Ides of March

22–Early Morning–07.25am.

23–Eliminate a Witness–Tomasz Dabrowski

24–Eliminate a Witness–Jock and Charlie Calder

25–Run for Home

26–Frazier Monroe

27–Indecent Proposal

28–Confrontation

29–Home and Dry

30–Genesis–Settled and Safe

31–A Journey into the Night

32–Chama–lie

33–The Heist

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Acknowledgements

34–How to Win Friends and Influence People

35–Bloody Doctor Death

36–Alana Nicholson–Miss Honeytrap

37–L S Lowry–Make Nice for Uncle Sam

38–A Right Song and Dance

39–Piano Bar at 'The Ivy'

40–Honeytrap Alana–Late Evening or Early Morning

41–Making Nice

42–Naïve Alana–Ex Post Facto

43–Interview Room Three

44–The Interview–After Edinburgh

45–Time to Decide–Somebody I Used to Know

46–Jack Rabbit

47–Cape Town South Africa–Nyanga Crossroad

48–The Agent Provocateur

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Acknowledgements

49–After Sunset

50–The Rendezvous

51–Nyanga Crossroad–Makhandlela Crescent

52–Nyanga Crossroad–The Fracas

53–Nyanga Crossroad–Saviour

Plus Two bonus chapters from Book 2–The Grimalkin Screamed

Chapter 2–Not for The Sniper Not for The Spy

Chapter 17–The Smell of Blood

Acknowledgement

Inclusion for perceived ambiance of scene only –Music reference and composer and or performer –

Copy and paste to view and listen on youtube

The Armed Man – Benedictus by Karl Jenkins

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JyfIB6wUFnw

The Soldiers of the Queen by Leslie Stuart

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx7y4RjgiBc

Captain Kelly's Kitchen by Dropkick Murpheys

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agro9miL3bA

Loyal to No–one by Dropkick Murpheys

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdMf5lEVd24

Another One Bites the Dust by Queen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rY0WxgSXdEE

Vaya Con Dios by Les Paul/Mary Ford

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvE9jvnwWC0

Chattanooga Choo–Choo by Mack Gordon and Harry Warren

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysdRwxtx5pM

The Sweetest Embrace by Barry Adamson and Nick Cave

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PidN7lPr4F0

Somebody I Used to Know by Gotye

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7DtJJSVPsk

The Scatterlings of Africa by Johnny Clegg and Savuka

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Y5VBf5_h8A

Marabi Jazz - African Jazz Pioneers - African Vukani

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeGJp1QgI5U

Cover photograph Nyanga Crossroad by COURT and courtesy Derek Murphy

Cover photograph The Grimalkin Screamed COURT and courtesy Derek Murphy

For the support and patience of J Cameron a big thank you

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The Sniper and The Spy

book one – part one

Nyanga Crossroad

A Synopsis Perhaps

'Wallace, no–one likes to be told of their limitations'

He switched on the tape recording machine used to record patients' vocal feedback and then with purpose of intent placed a twelve inch vinyl record onto the turntable of the Thorens TD 1601 gramophone record player. After switching the machine on and selecting play, the psychiatrist gave a wry smile of contentment before turning around to face his latest patient.

'I thought this music appropriate, you know, whilst we have our little chat David; – The Armed Man; Benedictus. – Hypnotic, this version don't you think; helps the mind to focus on the matters in hand, hmm?'

'Azrael; he shouted the name Azrael at me most vehement Doctor Greengrass and I suppose this was the catalyst from when it all started, this obsession I have with him and my family; I do call you Doctor Greengrass do I? Or shall I refer to you as Mr Greengrass?'

'Mr Greengrass is fine David, Mr Philip Greengrass. Philip if you prefer. It's entirely up to you. However, may I remind you this psychosis you talk about, the reasoning behind a metamorphosis surreal dream or entity emanating from somewhere within your cognitive preconscious is something for me your psychiatrist to determine once I've evaluated your mental state. So David, can you tell me the whole story leading up to the incident at Nyanga Crossroad and furthermore, your adventure to South America and finally about this, oh, ermm? I nearly forgot?' A brief pause whilst psychiatrist Philip Greengrass consulted the many handwritten notes he'd previously transcribed on several pages of his spiral bound notebook before continuing; 'Ah yes, this shocking incident and demise of The Armed Twitcher at Kinloch Rannoch. And,' he continued, 'Not forgetting the ambiguity of a seagull screeching something about an albatross like a cross hanging around its neck? Tell me about whom why and when David so you and I and the reader may understand fully the whys and wherefores' of the why we're here mmm?'

Former spy of MI6 DCIT David Wallace lay on the couch and settled himself as comfortable as he could knowing there was a long, long, tale to be told of many events before any conclusion might be forthcoming from Mr Philip Greengrass. He proceeded with his story…

'As I was about to leave home and start my university education my father gave me a stern lecture, well not so much a lecture but more of a stern tried and tested way of conveying his advice. I remember my father saying things like…

'Wallace personne n'aime être informé de ses limites, Wallace, no-one likes to be told of their limitations. Just remember Wallace. You're about to become a risk taker, a pioneer, a visionary, someone who pushes past all boundaries to redefine the word ordinary. You're at a crossroad in your life so grab the opportunity with both hands! Go on my boy, get out there and make your way in this sad, bad, world. Trust no one. Trust only your gut feelings. Never apologise and never explain. Do not say please and do not say thank you. Do not use these words for if you do people will usurp your authority, take you for granted; you will not have their respect my boy. Do not become the seagull metaphor I spoke of earlier in your life. Do you understand what I am saying…?"'

'After my father had spoken these words there was an altercation of sorts between myself and my step-brother John, that's when he threatened me, my weirdo brother John. He shouted a threat about being ruled in my forthcoming afterlife by Azrael; The Lord of the Dead. Not I might add meant as a wanton wish for the future, not for the tomorrow, but for the as soon as possible, the now, the today, the present?'

'Azrael you say, this he threatened you with; Azrael; your step-brother eh? Mmm, very interesting if not disturbing the way his mind works, your step–brother eh? Such a twisted…? So David, tell me about your family and what you think your father was trying to impart upon you with talk of this ermm, other thing, the metaphorical seagull and we'll take it from there shall we? So please continue...?'

'When I was merely a child bordering upon adolescence and in a time sometime long before this threat of death incident from my sibling half-brother John, I can remember my father saying;

Remember this David; remember the seven ages of man. You have progressed from being a helpless infant and a whining schoolboy to face further challenges in this sad bad world in which we live. You are growing into your third stage of manhood David and I want you to remember what I am about to say with due reverence. I want you to read and digest The Seagull written by Anton Chekhov. Read Chekhov and remember David; you are about to leave behind a life of carefree security and dependence and enter a world of destruction at the hands of others. Your life will become as a morphing metaphor, a character within a world of many characters, a character within a play within a play David my boy; regardent la cause du mal! Do not be like Konstantin Treplev" and put a gun to your head son. When the time comes you will understand the ambiguity of this sad bad world into which you are about to enter...'

'This my father, the diplomat Alexander Mathew Wallace said to me, David Mathew Wallace, his eldest son.'

'Well David, this will be where we start your story then, this play within a play of which you talk about. I suggest you begin by considering these things will you? Start with In the Beginning, Forebears Siblings and Other Things; such as your fathers' history, your family and employment at MI6, any other relationship you’ve enjoyed and we'll proceed further with your doubts because Wallace, no one likes to be told of their limitations.'

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In the Beginning

Forebears, Siblings and other Things

'One Two Three Four Five

Once I caught a fish alive

Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Then I let him go again,

Why did you let him go?

Because he bit my finger so

Which finger did he bite?

The little finger on the right!'

Forebears, Siblings and other Things, and M. Alexander Mathew Wallace was a secular Jew by religion and diplomat by profession. Long before his eldest son was conceived, M. Alexander Wallace enjoyed the privileges thus afforded by his senior diplomatic status in the French capital city of Paris on behalf of the British government. He was ‘Le diplomat de La Couronne et représentant de Sa Majesté la Reine Elizabeth' and as ambassador of The Crown he enjoyed an enduring relationship with the hierarchy of European society, especially the daughters of such. There's the rub.

The birth mother of David Wallace, the Anglo French model Giselle had walked the catwalks of Haute Couture during her teenage years of beauty and weight control. During these formative years of Haute Couture, Giselle had embarked upon a passionate affair with the aforementioned married diplomat M. Alexander Mathew Wallace and after some time into the affair Giselle had fallen pregnant.

'With a certain degree of inevitability' the blathering scuttlebutts had whispered behind hands held to a gossip lip; 'It was bound to happen, she made pregnant by that elderly English diplomat! Why, he's almost twice her age, and married too! And it is said she, Giselle, is not the only Haute Couture catwalk model he's having an affair with or the only young girl he's impregnated! I hear there's been one or two!' Oh yes, these were the words whispered behind many a crooked hand held to many a blathering scuttlebutts whispering lip.

*

'You are nothing but a Pilegesh for this Jew, this diplomat!' the father of Giselle shouted at her when he found out about her pregnancy. 'Nothing more than the concubine of a married man,' he berated. 'People see you as a whore, a woman of the street! May I ask a question of you? What happens now, uhh? Will he get a divorce from his wife, and bring up your child, Giselle? Will he be there for the child’s future welfare and yours, Giselle? Will he ever do that Giselle? Well, I do not believe so!'

Due to the demands of Haute Couture and the catwalk needs of weight control, Giselle did not carry her pregnancy well and the resultant premature birth of twins, a boy and a girl. The boy was stillborn whilst the girl, albeit underweight undernourished and fragile, survived. Once Giselle stopped breastfeeding the infant her father insisted the baby girl be sent to a doting aunt to be cared for and educated; 'As a normal child of The Family should be.' This, Giselle’s father had decreed, was because of the utmost shame a child born out of wedlock had brought upon Her Family, His Family, and last but not least, 'The Family!'

'So, I have decided' he told her. 'The child will go to my sister, your aunt Violet James where she will be cared for and educated as though she was her own child. I shall finance all of her needs and neither the bastard Wallace, nor you for that matter Giselle, will have any further contact with the child for as long as I live! I have no intention others shall ever think of the girl as a bastard illegitimate child, Giselle. Not my granddaughter and not in my lifetime either!'

'Père, personne n'aime être informé de ses limites!' Giselle pleaded with her father; but to no avail. Her plea's fell onto deaf ears.'

'I know Giselle,' said her unforgiving father. 'Tu es si corrects personne n'aime être informé de ses limites. Nobody likes to be told of their limitations Giselle, but my decision is made and final. Must I repeat myself?' he shouted. 'No one shall think of the girl as a bastard illegitimate child, Giselle. Not my granddaughter and not in my lifetime either!' Giselle’s father was to live for many years to come.

*

Ten years later and now married to the diplomat Monsieur Alexander Wallace, Giselle once again fell pregnant. After another complicated pregnancy she gave birth to a son. Eight days later at his brit milah, the baby boy's given name was David Mathew Wallace. Giselle Wallace passed away soon after and the young David was destined to live alone with his father and father’s housekeeper. At the age of seven his father told David he'd fallen in love with a younger woman.

*

From the very beginning the young David’s relationship with his new stepmother was a very strange one. A disaster for the marriage, the gossips had said for his stepmother had not taken to him and he, bless his cotton socks, had not taken to her. His stepmother had a dislike for young boys. Noisy, loud, brash and uncouth were boys, she thought, and frequently said so aloud for others to hear. She wanted a girl in her life, a child she could cosset love and care for in a feminine kind of way. From the very beginning the young David was not prepared to compromise his boyhood years and become a girl substitute for his stepmothers weird mind games. His stepmother eventually became pregnant and to her utmost disappointment she gave birth to a boy. Christened John Wallace, she cosseted loved and cared for her son throughout the child’s formative years in a feminine kind of way, much to the amusement of the young boys' peers and elder sibling half–brother David.

*

Reaching the pseudo–maturity of his later teenage years the time came for the young David Wallace to leave the family home and pursue a University education. He managed to conceal the separation anxiety he felt and once again his father was guilty of repeating himself...'Wallace personne n'aime être informé de ses limites, Wallace, no–one likes to be told of their limitations. Just remember Wallace. You are a risk taker, a pioneer, a visionary, someone who pushes past all boundaries to redefine the word ordinary. You're at a crossroad in your life so grab the opportunity with both hands! Go on my boy, get out there and make your way in this sad, bad, world. Trust no one. Trust only your gut feelings. Never apologise and never explain. Do not say please and do not say thank you. Do not use these words for if you do people will usurp your authority, take you for granted; you will not have their respect my boy. Do not become the metaphor I spoke of earlier. Do you understand what I am saying?'

'No!' He'd read Chekhov and still didn't understand anything about seagulls, still didn't understand what his father was trying to say. Was his father having a sudden Cassandra moment of moral conscience perhaps? Predicting ill to come and warning of punishment and grief to follow him in life? His confidence was shattered once again as he attempted to grasp the true meaning of the words his father had spoken about sometime in the past; about him leaving behind a life of carefree security and dependence only to enter into a world of destruction at the hands of others. He looked deep into his father’s eyes and saw eyes that were sharp and clear. Greyish blue eyes the color of hardened steel and his father had a cold unwelcoming sentiment to go with them. Not wishing to offend his father, the young David Wallace tried to blink the tears away from his own eyes. Not because his father was scolding him, his tears were for the fear of the greater, unknown.

'Yes Sir, I think I do, Sir.'

His half–brother John sitting at the dining table sniggered in contempt at this show of emotion and began to recite a nursery rhyme:

'One Two Three Four Five

Once I caught a fish alive,

Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Then I let him go again,

Why did you let him go?

Because he bit my finger so,

Which finger did he bite?

The little finger on the right!'

From the open book which lay before him the young John Wallace then read aloud;

'Genesis, the first book of The Old Testament; Genesis 1:14–16.And God said, Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth. And, it was so. God made two great lights; the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night.'

John Wallace closed the book with a thump. Staring with those wide Mark of Cain heterochromatic eyes he asked his elder brother a question, no, not a question, it was more of a biblical challenge; 'Which one of the lights are you David, the greater light to govern the day, or perhaps the lesser light to govern the night, eh, which?'

The answer was as near bizarre as the question, even though in part it held a truth; 'Quid pro quo Genesis Johnny, did you piss dribble in your pants last night Johnny boy? You know, when I found you very drunk on fathers Chianti Classico DI Montemaggio, his special fine wine hey bro? Do you believe your heterochromatic Mark of Cain eyes absolve you of all sin and allow you a God given right to get everything you want from life hey, Genesis Johnny boy?'

His younger brother fell silent but continued to glare at David with those wide strange eyes. He hated the nickname Genesis Johnny boy, a nickname acquired because of his biblical preoccupations and anyone addressing him thus would in the passage of time suffer due retribution. After a tense pause was his quietly spoken and unequivocal reply; 'I’m innocent.'

'You’re innocent? Ha! No one but no one in this bloody world is "Innocent," Genesis Johnny boy! So tell me, you're innocent of what? Drinking the Chianti or pissing your pants?'

John Wallace screamed at his elder step–brother, 'Guess which, go on! Guess which one I'm innocent of, I dare you!'

As he stomped out of the room the younger Wallace suddenly stopped. Turning around and with a threatening tone of voice somewhere between a whisper and a shout he repeated part of a sentence their father had spoken not five minutes before, but this time augmented the words with a not too veiled threat. 'Wallace, no–one likes to be told of their limitations and I’ll get you for what you have just said. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, but I will get you one day. Get my own back for all the treachery and lies you have said and done to me Wallace. You are nought but a Judas Iscariot, telling lies about me to our elders and all for gaining their favors; telling false lies for the likes and price of silver coins. Just you wait and see Wallace. One day this I promise for all to hear; for your treachery you shall have such Judas Shekel silver coins laid upon your eyes and in your mouth. Laid there as Charon's obol for such treachery as payment to the Styx and Acheron ferryman who'll take you to "your afterlife" Wallace! Take you to a place where you'll be ruled for the rest of your afterlife by the Lord of the Dead! This I promise! Mark my words!'

'Oh yeah, well you keep well away from me Genesis Johnny boy or else I’ll kick your bloody teeth out, down your bloody throat you prick!'

'That’s enough bickering from you two,' came the stern warning from their father. 'And you David stop your swearing. Just be very, very careful what you say to him. You know what he's like, unpredictable in the very least.'

The warning came too late though. David’s gut had turned over at this veiled threat from his half–brother. He knew John was suffering from some sort of narcissistic personality and was metaphysically disturbed by ascribing the cause of his evil doings as the will of God; the way his stepmother manipulated John being one reason for this malaise. It was something his parents had often argued about, the way his stepmother cosseted her Johnny as a girl. As John grew older, there was the whispered talk about long–term psychiatric treatment for a verging psychotic disorder; Such as a schizophrenia malady or maybe some other psychosis, perhaps? they had said. David knew the life and world of John Wallace was the doing of evil and unnatural things; a world in which his young half–brothers mentality inhabited and it was an evil place in which his stepbrother excelled.

'One Two Three Four Five

Once I caught a fish alive,

Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Then I let him go again…

Because he bit my finger so…

The little finger on the right!'

'Yes. Do be careful David,' he thought nervously to himself. ‘Genesis Johnny’ is more than capable of doing things any normal person would perceive as being evil and unnatural.' Now he understood the warning his father had given him and he would reflect upon those words many times in the not too distant future; Trust no one. Trust only your gut feelings. Welcome David Wallace to a bad sad world surrounding you and your very strange sibling half–Brother John who keeps repeating under his breath; '"Wallace, no–one likes to be told of their limitations; Wallace, no–one likes to be told of their limitations! So a warning; beware the name Azrael!'

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01

The Journey Begins

Some Years Later

Collaboration 11.07.2011

Collaboration: It is said; 'is the act of working together with one or more people in order to achieve something of mutual benefit.'

Collaboration: He, being employed by the Mandarins of British Government was contracted to collaborate with The Director of Counter Intelligence and Terrorism MI6.

Status: Spy.

His interpretation of collaboration was to achieve something with one or more people; albeit not for mutual benefit but to augment his own advantage. The British spy David Wallace was known to be cavalier of character and it suited him to be treated thus. Tonight, his collaboration with the Banjara Remus Barr he evaluated as a success; even though with some kind of respite and nepenthe of memories from the past.

There lies the rub.

Collaboration: She was supposedly a freelance assassin for hire. She was also required to collaborate with her employer of the day whomsoever her employer might be; a Mr Anybody, a Mr Nobody or a Mr Somebody. Wasn't she? She, the Banjara Remus Barr was this very day contracted to a powerful Ms Somebody, The Director of British Counter Intelligence and Terrorism MI6.

Status: Sniper.

Her interpretation of collaboration was the betrayal of others by working with the enemy; not for mutual benefit but to augment those of her true employer who sat in a comfortable chair in a warm office on Bd. Libertãții nr. 14D sector 5 Bucharest Romania. Remus Barr was calculating in what she did. Her persona suited the word calculating; suited every synonym associated with the word calculating; devious: shrewd: manipulative: cunning: scheming: conniving. She was also a woman of passion when it suited and tonight's collaborative liaison with the MI6 spy David Wallace albeit with some kind of respite and nepenthe of memories from the past; suited.

There lies the rub.

He watched as she dressed; her slim female form lambent in the half–light of the bedroom, a luminous silhouette of sorts. Yes, tonight's liaison with her had been an unexpected pleasure

She, the sniper, turned to face him the spy and smiled as though reading his mind. 'Donnot say anything Babushka Wallace. Doughnut says a single word for any collaborative pleasure endured between us tonight was mine and mine alone. The mission tomorrow will also be of collaboration, not mine alone but between us, you and me. You point finger and trigger I pulls.'

He just loved her malapropisms. He was about to reply in the manner of a man amour–propre but too late; she was gone. Tomorrow's collaborative mission to which she referred would require a more professional approach by both if they were to succeed their task of taking out hierarchy members of a recently formed terrorist group known as Boko Haram. This recently formed faction had infiltrated the African countries of Chad and the Central African Republic with purpose to intimidate the populaces' by acts of profound terrorism and in consequence destabilize the legitimate governments of those African states. The success of the mission they, the Sniper and The Spy, were about to embark upon would severely weaken the organization of the man who controlled these factions of terrorist insurgents aligned to Al Qaeda, the Sri Lanka drugs and arms dealer Alohivira Rajapakse, however, neither sniper nor spy would visualize the inexorable significance pursuant to the outcome of this collaborative mission; code name Opération Pas si 'faux pas.'

He lay on his bed long after she had gone; he lay there contemplating his life, his world. Of late his mind had become a muddle of opposing thoughts; what my future life might be and what my past life has been? His past life through no fault of his own it might be argued, had been somewhat unstable? His future life would be what; reliant upon either an early grave or with luck, if you can call it luck, a meagre pension from the state?

Thereby lay the rub.

David Wallace was becoming progressively cynical about the direction his career was evolving. Becoming contemptuous about being treated as yet another insensitive dogsbody agent, come spy, come goffer of British Intelligence MI6. He needed more in his life other than an unattractive end of service retirement package with vague promises of a comfortable few years before death. Death in his profession had the habit of knocking upon the door just after life's lunch and just before life's tea had been served, let alone after life's evening supper. Not many agents lived to enjoy either evening supper or a back end of service retirement package which meant the mandarins of government were able to offer generous inducements to a goffer spy such as him;

'"Become a soldier of the Empire and serve your Empires interest my boy! It's your duty! Come–along! A toast! Raise your glass and sing with unreserved gusto about your life's duty; laddie!

♫ It's the Soldiers of the Queen, my lads: The Queen, my lads: The Queen, my lads: In the fight for England's glory, lads...♫"'

This was the cadence about Empire, the cadence of Mandarins enjoying their fruits of Empire; not his. He wasn't invited to that party. He'd seen it all. He'd seen the good; he'd seen the bad and he'd seen the ugly. When he looked in the mirror at night he saw all of these things within himself; the good; the bad; the ugly. Now he wanted more than the mundane commitment to the Mandarins of Whitehall and his superiors at The River House MI6 to keep the lifeblood of excitement flowing through his veins. He'd sooner sing–along with the 'Dropkick Murphy's;''

♫ Toora, toora la toora toora laddie! ♫ than bend to the Whitehall Mandarins acuity of; "Your duty to Queen and Country, 'laddie!'" He was known throughout the service as being cavalier in attitude but now he wanted more from life than brief encounters of one night stands or the prospect of an early death before retirement. For David Wallace life seemed to revolve around mandarins' greed not their need; so where was he to place his faith, his loyalties and political allegiance? With those conspiratorial mandarins of government whether they are of political persuasion Left Centre of Right or Right Centre of Left or, God forbid, the resurgence of a Communist or Fascist State? A 1984 dystopia social community even, a society bereft of reason; but were we not there already per se? The Dropkick Murphy's came to mind once again and their sing–along song Loyal to No–one;

♫ Tis hard to have faith in something so new. When you're loyal to no one; No one but you! ♫

Decisions, decisions, greed or need and with clarity he remembered the muddle of opposing thoughts racing through his mind during a private party at a colleague's house. A decisive moment during a supposed chance or a perchance contrived introduction maybe? to a South African Xhosa named Winston whence came the promise of countless $ US dollars and uncut blood diamonds! 'For the exchange of information, any sensitive or classified information; specific formulae perhaps which may be stored on one or two or three different colored computer flash drives; yes?'

After such a proposal he couldn't disguise the truths hidden amongst the muddle of his discontent anymore. The gain of untold wealth borne from some form of betrayal of The Whitehall Mandarins had excited him. The thought of an early cash rich retirement had excited him; had appealed to his narcissistic self. He was to wonder later how the South African provocateur knew about his enterprises into the unknown. How Winston knew about the existence of formulae and USB flash drives kept under guard at an American Naval research facility in Matapeake Maryland USA; a foray into the unknown which became a mission of greed; his greed and his acquisitions. He was now hooked upon the realisation of wealth and the betrayal of his masters. He'd seen how allegiances and loyal reciprocations would change purely on a whim of political policy; be motivated purely by self–interest from those who employed his services. He was just a Mr nothing Mr nobody to the Mandarins of Whitehall. No, he concurred with an unrequited conscience; 'greed, yes, it gets to them all in the end and, as from now, I'm contemplating becoming a self–elected member of this revered club of cronyism and self–interest!' The die was cast. By acquiring the flash drives and SD chips his life's destiny would change forever. A pay package of early retirement in the form of $ US Dollars and blood diamonds was there for the taking if only he held his nerve? By acquiring the flash drives of which Winston the agent provocateur had alluded, he would be cast free from MI6, free from mandarin authoritarian control, his destiny assured.

*

London Calling and a meeting with the DCIT MI6 with explicit instructions from those very people he was beginning to despise. He was to embark upon a covert mission with the Banjara Remus Barr; an assignment to Africa. Not to procure flash drives or formulae though, not a mission of greed; but one of kidnap, elimination and assassination. He thought again about the Banjara snipers words before she'd left him earlier that evening; You point finger, I pulls trigger! He prepared for the mission rendezvous with her; 02.00 hours at RAF Brize Norton Oxfordshire little knowing this assignment would be a catastrophic disaster. Become one of pain; his pain, one of loneliness; his loneliness and one of misery; his misery; become one of untold surreal dreams borne from somewhere within his cognitive preconscious.

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02

Captured

Opération Pas si 'faux pas

concomitant; 11.12.2011

'Captured; and Opération Pas si 'faux pas had turned into Mission Catastrophic.' David Wallace, spy and agent of MI6 stood well away from the entrance door of the