Deception

By Dawson Howard

They had all the might and power of the USA at their fingertips. The intention was to control the world's supply of oil. The plan was going well but they needed to eliminate a small meddling group of ex-military operatives, led by Colonel Wine, and find the president's daughter, somewhere in central Africa.
The elimination attempt wasn't completely successful and Wade Ross (Wine's friend) became involved.
Not accepting his capabilities was their second mistake.
He incurred a trail of destruction across Sierra Leone, Guam, UK, Germany and on to the US.
The hunter became the hunted.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Sep 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685835224

Book preview

1.

The twilight of the day had arrived. Wade crested the steep, dusty overgrown track that served as a fire access road during the brutal fire danger season of the Australian summer. He had just crossed the sixteen kilometre mark of his run; the final part of his addictive daily fitness regime, which also included surf paddling, Krav Maga, and swimming.

Sweating profusely in the sinking hot summer sun, he stopped short of the heavily tinted SUV parked across the track. Towering gnarled Eucalyptus trees provided limited shade. The sea breeze was trying desperately to fight against the forces of the hot desert, no more than one hundred kilometres away. Three men in their black suits, ties, mirror sunglasses, large black peak caps, with hands behind their backs looked distinctively out of character to the surrounding environment.

His black and white Kelpie, Kiwi, at his heels, stood panting as he looked up at his master and across to the strange sight blocking their running track. The same track they had been running everyday for four years and this was the first time they had met anyone other than the occasional fire truck on patrol.

Smallest of the three, suited men, stepped forward, removed his hat and glasses. Hi Wade.

Joe! exclaimed Wade as they shook hands.

Special Agent Joe Plant, previously CIA Station Chief, Istanbul, Turkey, had been indirectly seconded, to Langley, to work with Wade and his team on their last mission, five years earlier.

What the hell are you doing out here? asked Wade looking across at Plant’s two linebacker-size companions, whose jackets were ready to burst against their pumped up muscles. He saw the bulge of a pistol under their left arms. Their fingers slightly twitched hanging beside their jackets. The car parked at the exact angle to enable a clear line of protection should a firefight eventuate. Feet shoulder width apart and right foot slightly ahead of the left. Ready for the pistol recoil. ‘So, right handed’ he thought.

Bending down and patting Kiwi, Plant whispered, I had to find you.

Well you could have used a phone. Anyway why … and why out here? he asked, between pants, gesturing towards the sunburnt, dried grasses and trees. The dusty, sharp, rocky exposed track. Thorn bushes and shrubs fighting for survival. The whole area ready to ignite at the mere hint of a spark.

A situation has arisen and we need your help.

My help! For gawd sakes … You know I’ve been out of that for nearly five years now?

I know, I know, he whispered still looking down, patting Kiwi. But we need to send an undercover team in to Guinea, to extradite a national, and you’re the best qualified to lead that team.

What! You can’t be serious, questioned Wade. You came all the way from the States, and more than likely Langley, to find me out here in the middle of ‘no-mans land’, to ask me that.

Wade please … I’m only the messenger, you know that, said Plant stepping back.

Maybe so. But the whole idea of you, or whoever sent you, turning up on my doorstep, and thinking I would suddenly rush back, is beyond stupid.

This is an important mission and national security could depend on it.

National security! responded Wade raising his voice as he stepped forward. Fuck Joe. I’m not even American, With his left hand he grabbed Plant by the front of his jacket and shirt, bringing them closer. What’s really going on here? he asked lowering his voice.

The two guards instantly reached into their jackets and ripped out their Glock 17 pistols. Kiwi leapt to his feet, growled and bared his teeth. Plant could feel Wade’s unbelievable strength as the grip on his jacket got tighter.

Tell your two meathead mates to drop their weapons and get on the ground, said Wade calmly over his dog’s growling.

Put down your weapons. Face first on the ground, yelled Plant unable to move from the vice like grip. Do it … now.

With the two linebackers on the ground, Kiwi stopped growling and wandered over to check them out, sniffing at their heads and hands. Wade released his hold. He stood studying the situation. Here was a friend who had been with him when everything had been at its worst. Even though Plant was CIA, and not military trained, he had travelled with the team to multiple locations across the world. They had witnessed friends and colleagues die, missions go haywire, opportunities come and go. Wade stood like a cobra, watching Plant’s eyes. Plant’s pupils remained rock solid, even with his eyelids flapping like a scarf in the wind.

Joe, we’ve been good friends, he said smoothing out Plant’s jacket. So no more bullshit, out with it.

Plant fumbled around. He looked at the sky and then to the trees. Desperately trying to avoid eye contact. Eventually he regained his composure. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but … it appears the Colonel, and some of the team, have been shot down in Sierra Leone.

Wade Ross had spent sixteen years as one of the most highly trained special forces operatives to have served with the SAS. Having consumed his youth studying and learning survival and tracking skills, from Aboriginal elders, he had then joined the Australian Army and rapidly progressed to Campbell Barracks, SAS headquarters, Perth, Western Australia.

He removed his tee shirt, wiped his face and looked out across the valley towards his home. Byron Bay, a beautiful country town on the north coast of New South Wales, Australia. A world renowned surf beach. Destination for backpackers, surfers and drifters through to the rich and famous; all seeking a bohemian and secluded holiday or lifestyle. Polar opposite to CIA headquarters Langley and all it stood for. This was a place Wade felt contented.

It had been five years since Wade, and his wife Crystal, had left Colonel Jacob Wine and the team. They had established a new life. Crystal teaching Yoga at her purpose built facility on their fifty acre beachside secluded property. Wade in the final year of his online psychology degree with his abstract paintings starting to attract interest.

Wade had often thought about the Colonel and all the ex-military friends he had left behind. He had wanted to contact them but was fearful the pull of the camaraderie would drag him back. He knew he couldn’t, nor wanted, to do that to the woman he loved.

When and where? he asked as the shock of the news subsided and he motioned to Plant’s assistants to get off the ground. Both men rose with their eyes glued to Kiwi.

Don’t worry he won’t bite unless you piss him off, said Wade.

Plant explained the information they had was sketchy. Reports showed the team were aboard a highly modified Sikorsky UH-60 deployed from the aircraft carrier USS George H. W. Bush that had been undergoing exercises in the southern Atlantic. The helicopter had crossed from Guinea into Sierra Leone when it was locked on to by a surface to air missile.

Surely the carrier was tracking the flight. Why can’t they just give you the coordinates? … Then you can send in a team, asked a bewildered Wade.

Plant looked into the eyes of his friend as the sweat cascaded down Wade’s dark olive skinned face and across his hard toned body. Standing, like a jungle cat ready to pounce, his muscles tensed and tried to relax with each breath. Ice blue eyes had frozen like stone. His face scrunched up as he fought with the pain of the news. Fists opened and closed.

It’s not that simple, paused Plant whispering even softer. They went in dark. No comms and when the black box signal was received on the carrier the data was apparently corrupted.

Corrupted?… That’s bullshit. You and I both know that’s impossible, he said pausing and trying to fight back the demons of pain. There’s more to this than you’re telling me, isn’t there?

Looking around, Plant removed his glasses and cap a second time. Heran his hand through his military cut hair as he stumbled to find the words.

We believe somebody at the top ordered the data destroyed.

Destroyed… why? asked a perplexed Wade. Who was on board?

Why we don’t know. We can only guess they wanted the mission to fail. Our limited intelligence points to whoever was responsible also ordered the SAM strike. Choking back his emotions he slowly continued, The Colonel, Jacko, Bart, Bassa, Stewie, Morrie, Throb and Chrissie were all on board.

My god, said Wade as he sank to his haunches. Hands on his head. Face to the ground.

Plant paused.

We are also led to believe President Markham’s illegitimate daughter, Rose, who is supposedly working with one of the remote hospital operators, somewhere in the same area, might be involved but that is unconfirmed.

Wade looked into the eyes of his constant companion. He ruffled his head. He tried to smile as Kiwi licked his chin.

The pain stretched across his face. He heard the elders from the Aboriginal spirit world talking to him. Having grown up and studied the ways of the Aboriginal, his belief in ‘The Dreaming’ was so strong that as he listened he was already feeling the pull of Africa.

2.

The stone bench top sprawled out towards the six large bifold doors that were stacked to each side. An afternoon sea breeze had arrived and was lightly blowing up from the beach, across the manicured lawns and into their Balinese style home. Palm trees swayed and rocked. The surface of the lap pool rippled. Crystal had just finished her last yoga class for the day. The participants had left and she was standing at the kitchen sink washing vegetables, listening to the waterfall music softly playing through the in-house speaker system.

Hi, said Wade startling her out of her dreamy thoughts. Sorry didn’t mean to frighten you, he said standing on the threshold that led to the large quartz covered patio.

Crystal instantly knew something was adrift. The tone of Wade’s voice sounded abrupt, forceful and approaching military; unlike his normal passive, acquiescent, controlled voice. They had been married for one month shy of five years and she could not remember once in that time that Wade had not kissed and hugged her every time he saw her. She thought of the times he would be away from her for one or two minutes and he would still kiss and hug her. Looking down she noticed how Kiwi was standing rock solid directly beside Wade. He would always run and greet her.

Honey, what’s up? she asked rounding the end of the bench.

Standing in only his running shorts and shoes, sweat glistening from all parts of his skin. Crystal knew she was not a pretentious person but she did love his good looks and rock hard body.

They came together. Wade wrapped his arms around her tightly. She placed her head on his chest. She felt the sweat against her face. Could hear his heartbeat.

I love you … I love you so much, he whispered still holding her as Kiwi tried desperately to get in on the action, jumping up against Wade’s back.

I love you too, she replied dumbfounded as to what was happening.

Finally releasing his grip, he kissed her and sat her down on their huge leather modular lounge. Still holding her hands, he looked into her eyes and explained what had happened to his old team.

Finished he nervously said with his head down, I know … I promised … I would never go back … but … I feel I need to do something.

Putting her hands under his chin and lifting his face until their eyes met. I know you do. I always expected this day to come and I want you to go. Changing her face from serious and concerned to smiling she said, I love you but I’m coming too.

But this is our home. Our life. All we’ve built together so far? Our dreams coming to fruition. I don’t want you to leave this. Not because of me.

It will still be here when we get back.

True … but are you sure you want to come?

Kiwi softly growled. Ears up, looking out across the pool.

Mister Ross don’t get any ideas of leaving here without me, she said smiling and lashing her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately.

I have some news, said Crystal.

Before Wade could answer, or she could continue, Kiwi starting barking and Plant stepped around the corner of their house, with his two bodyguards.

Joe! said Crystal surprised. What are you doing here? as they embraced.

I came to visit you guys, said Plant.

Right … as if, she said half smiling.I assume you’re the bearer of the news that Wade has just told me about?

Nice house, said Plant desperate to change the subject.

An affluent couple Wade and Crystal were known for not showing it off but they did have a beautiful house nestled on a white sandy surf beach. The seven bedroom home was large and served a dual purpose allowing multiple guests when Crystal was conducting a week long live in for her yoga and meditation classes. The house was secluded from all neighbours and only visible from the ocean. Wade had a separate purpose built bungalow he used for his studying, writing and training. More like a man-cave where Wade and Kiwi could forget time. Wade practicing martial arts moves or endlessly researching, on the internet, his studies and writing. Completing his papers or painting. Kiwi watching his master or sleeping. Hours would pass until Crystal would need to arouse them from their stupor.

After some quick small talk Plant said, I know I shouldn’t be saying this but Wade if you’re coming we need to go.

I’m coming too, said Crystal to a surprised Plant. Don’t say anything, we have already discussed it and it’s agreed.

Crystal, you need to think about this seriously, opposed Plant who had by now been ignored as he stood watching Wade and Crystal leave the room.

3.

The luxury Gulfstream G650 long range jet departed Brisbane International Airport private clientele hangar at 2100 hours. It had been a hasty departure. Crystal and Wade had quickly closed up their property, packed a bag, dropped Kiwi at a training mates and arranged for a friend to regularly check on their home.

Wade Ross, 6’2", 200 pounds, half Australian Aboriginal and half Italian, had been raised learning the ways and beliefs of the Aboriginal. He married Crystal Carters, a former US Navy helicopter pilot, five years earlier, after deciding to leave Colonel Wine and his freelance team of multi national ex Special Forces soldiers. He thought of his friends as his shoulders slumped and his piercing arctic blue eyes starred out the plane’s window into the soot black abyss.

Crystal glanced across to her husband. She brushed strands of her sun bleached, brunette wavy hair away from her gorgeous olive skinned face and bright emerald green eyes. Sitting back in the cream coloured luxurious leather sofa she pulled the black waist length leather jacket over her white logo free designer tee shirt. She dusted unseen fluff from her slashed, fashionable, worn, ankle height jeans. Admired by men and studied by women; whenever she walked past, heads would turn. Truly comfortable with herself she seemed oblivious to what others thought. She reflected on the last five years and how happy they had been. She remembered and shuddered at their battles with the Cooper family and the final confrontation with the then CIA boss, General Forest.

You’re not telling me the whole story, are you? asked Wade turning, from his seat directly opposite Crystal, to the person approaching from behind.

No, came the aristocratic English reply from the immaculately dressed, middle aged man. The three piece pin stripped suit with the Oxford University tie and the Tanino Crisci, Lillian black leather shoes accompanied by the Rolex watch and Jacob and Co. cufflinks, all pointed to either someone incredibly rich or very high up the chain of command.

Wade, Crystal let me introduce you to Sir Roger Dunstall, said Plant, sitting across the aisle. Sir Roger is the former head of MI6.

Pleased to meet you both, he said, shaking their hands as he took a seat beside Crystal. Now only two metres away and looking directly at someone he had heard so much about; he fought the urge to ask multiple questions.

MI6? … Why me? asked a sceptical Wade.

Sitting back in the luxury sofa, Dunstall crossed his legs and looked down at his hands in his lap. This has nothing to do with MI6. This is all my own doing. And you because apparently you’re the best.

Raising his head, he looked at everybody seated and then locked on to Wade’s eyes. Wade sat as solid as a rock.

Mister Ross, thank you for coming and on such short notice. I know the news you have received is tough but I believe between us we can set things straight. Paused. Please note I already know a lot about you but I think it’s important I explain myself first.

Wade gave the slightest of nods.

Jacob … is my brother.

Colonel Jacob Wine, ex British SAS and somebody Wade considered father like and a good friend. While attached to the British SAS and on a failed Kosovo deployment Wade saved the Colonel’s life and thus a strong bond had developed. It had always been the Colonel’s team. He had put it together and he was the ranking officer. For all intense and purpose everybody treated him as such. But when operational time arrived all eyes focused on Wade, the natural born leader.

He never told me he had a brother, said Wade determined to catch the tell tale signs of a lie. The shift of the body. The raising of the eyes or eyelids. The slightest movement as a liar dissects his response to ensure the lie continues unabated.

Half brother actually and he doesn’t know. He is twelve years my senior. By the time I learnt I had a brother I was quite high up in British Intelligence and I decided it was better for both our careers that we should not interact so as not to jeopardize the other. I had always intended to one day explain to him what I knew but as time went by it became more and more difficult. I made a point of following his career, and his life, and thus I know about you. He paused waiting for a response or a reaction. Silence abound. A Mexican standoff was happening with neither man moving or uttering a sound. Having been aware of Wade’s abilities Dunstall thought better than to try and outwit him. I am a very wealthy man, Mister Ross, but I have no family other than Jacob. So when I heard what happened I contacted Agent Plant, through my counterparts at the CIA, and here we are.

Well and good, said Wade still not convinced. Back to my original question. What about the rest of the story?

I’ve heard that about you; blunt and direct. I like that, said Dunstall smiling and slightly tilting his head.

Dunstall explained that at the time of General Forest’s demise (Wade’s previous foe, CIA chief and leader of a breakaway CIA unit) MI6 became increasingly cautious of dealings with the CIA. This caution resulted in them uncovering an outside party accessing CIA internal files and operating procedures. At first they believed it was the NSA keeping a close watch on the new CIA chief. This appeared unfounded and then all indications pointed to the US President or at least somebody very close to him.

"President Markham is now in his second term of office and only has one year left on his tenure. There are those of us at HQ who believe he is frantically trying to locate and connect with his illegitimate daughter before