Passcodes to Peril

By Ron McCarthy

Len Gorski’s new assignment has taken him to Sydney’s heartland to coach the UNSW football team in the State League. On the eve of the grand final, he is embroiled in the aftermath of theft of world-first technology from the team captain, a post-graduate research student.

The search to recover a prototype device and learn the identity of the thieves leads to violence and life-changing adventures for the team captain, his girlfriend, and her former high school sports teacher. Survival skills learned in Len’s earlier life are stretched.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Oct 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398415126

Ron McCarthy

Ron played state grade soccer before a career leading to chief engineer of Australia’s top telco. His work took him to the Silk Route in Asia and to Ma Bell companies in America where his accent scored. He spoke to the Pacific Forum and played a golf match against the Fijian coup leader, Brigadier General Sitiveni Rabuka. Writing fiction is his new passion.

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About the Author

Ron played state grade soccer before a career leading to chief engineer of Australia’s top telco. His work took him to the Silk Route in Asia and to Ma Bell companies in America where his accent scored.

He spoke to the Pacific Forum and played a golf match against the Fijian coup leader, Brigadier General Sitiveni Rabuka. Writing fiction is his new passion.

Dedication

To Robyn

Copyright Information ©

Ron McCarthy 2022

The right of Ron McCarthy to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398415119 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398415126 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

UNSW Alumni for research information.

The Institution of Engineers, Australia, for the Journals CREATE.

Chapter One

The crowd is queuing up at the turnstiles for entry to the final of the NSW State Football competition between Olympic, the locals, and UNSW, the younger team of the two from a large Sydney University. With turnstiles understaffed as usual, the crowd is overflowing from the nature strip outside the stadium onto the roadway and there is some anger building up. Cars trying to go past are hooting horns and collecting colourful abuse in response.

Inside most patrons are hurrying to get to seats in the undercover grandstand or to open air ringside seats outside the picket fence surrounding the playing surface. Those in no hurry are moving to mouth-watering aromas coming from the barbecue area and to soft-drink stalls under cover along the side of the grandstand. Alcohol sale is banned here because of spectator troubles in the past.

As people flow across the concourse, four men are in a huddle and in close conversation dominated by one in particular, not conscious of blocking other spectator movements past them. All four have close-cropped hair and non-characteristic attire, and the speaker has their undivided attention.

‘Grigor met my plane yesterday and gave me the latest guts for this. I’m pissed off with his plan for today though. It’s shit-risky for us while he sits out in the clear. But I’ve gone along with it for now; he’s been here long enough to get the local stuff sorted.’

‘You’re spot on, Carlos,’ says a giant man standing next to him, ‘that prick is a syndicate man and thinks he sits above us. But he’s only a little shit in this. Do you really trust the info he gave you?’

‘Yeah, for now anyhow, Oybek. I think he’s been here five months. Enough to case the joint. The syndicate’s got him a local studio somewhere around here, and he’s right into it.’

‘If we’re going to snatch this bird today, he reckons the best time is when the ref blows the final whistle and the spectators rush to get away,’ says Carlos. ‘Looking around though, we can’t go out this main access area. You can see they’ve got surveillance cameras.’

‘Rashid, you heard Carlos,’ says Oybek. ‘There’s cameras here. You’ve got to find a better way out. Be quick about it.’ Rashid nods his assent. There’s a subservient manner and no words, as if there may be some sort of military connection.

Oybek is a giant, over two metres tall, a fearful sight with close shaven head, broad shoulders, bulging chest muscles straining the buttons of his sports coat and white collared shirt, both of which look out of character. Both he and Carlos wear tailored trousers and sports coats. Not right for this event.

‘You’ve done good, Carlos,’ says Oybek, ‘this bitch’ll give us the leverage we need now. If Rashid comes good, we can move in as soon as the ref blows the final whistle. Just like planned. Did Grigor have the security code you needed for last night?’

‘Yeah. I got in and got what I needed. That idiot Boris must have given Grigor the entry code as well as describe the layout. And I’ve got a house lined up just a few streets from here to hide this bird when we get away.’ Just then, Rashid comes back with his report.

‘I found a gate back of the dressing sheds. It’s where trucks come in with dirt and stuff for the ground staff. It’s got a high wood fence next to the road, but the gate’s locked. The fence’ll block the view from outside.’

‘Good,’ says Oybek, ‘take this security vest, shoo spectators away and pick the lock. Then go out, park the car on the nature strip close to the gate, stick this federal police sign on the dash, then come back in and cover the gate area. Keep everyone right away. This’s dangerous stuff coming up. If this goes wrong, we’re all in deep shit both here and at home. So be ready and stick to the plan!’

‘We only have Grigor’s word for it that this bird will show up for the match,’ says Carlos. ‘You better hold off till we’re sure our target’s here, Rashid. He said she will come with her sports teacher, and we’ve only got these photos to be sure it’s them.’

‘Everyone! Come and have a good look at these photos. And keep your eyes peeled for when they arrive.’

Chapter Two

‘Hurry up, Alicia, shake a leg!’ calls Emma, after beeping her horn and now shouting from the nature strip. ‘If we don’t get going soon, we’ll miss the kick-off.’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ shouts Alicia from her front door. ‘When I saw you had a jacket on, I went back in to get mine too in case it gets chilly later.’

‘How far’s it to Memorial Oval?’ asks Emma, when Alicia has come through the front gate to join her. ‘We haven’t got much time. Do we need to hurry on foot, or should we take my car?’

‘We’ll have to walk. There’s no way you’d find parking near the field now. Come on, it’s only three blocks so we’ll make it in time.’

They set off at a brisk pace. Emma sees that Alicia is struggling to slip into her jacket as they hurry. She helps by dropping behind a little and pulling up the shoulder and collar for her.

‘I suppose you’re proud of your brother,’ she says. ’This’ll be his first grand final, won’t it?

‘Yeah, they’ve never got this far before, and Manny’s really worked up. Naturally, he’s been trying to look cool and not show it. Problem is, if things aren’t working out for him, he tries too hard, gets frustrated and then gets injured. I’ve seen it happen!’

At school Alicia has excelled academically and with gymnastics. Manny, on the other hand, is the star striker in the football team. They are both very talented and they often watch each other compete in their respective sports. With these thoughts springing to mind, Emma experiences a sudden shiver up her spine recalling a nasty incident the previous day. She had invited Liana, the coach’s niece, to join five of her students at her home for a gymnastics lesson followed by a swim in her in-ground swimming pool. The session was interrupted when four late-teenage boys arrived to chauffer the five students’ home.

Emma had been terribly shocked by an incident soon after they arrived, when she happened to spot the oldest boy elbow his nearest mate, then suggestively move his index finger in and out of the finger and thumb loop on his other hand, grinning, just as he was turning away from her. Emma saw this peripherally, and feigned ignorance, but clenched her teeth tightly. Not thinking, she too had been wearing a brief bikini costume to make the best of the afternoon sun. She remembers snatching a towel from the pool ladder to wrap around herself. Running through her thoughts now, she visions Manny behaving much better when he goes to watch Alicia’s gymnastics, with all the girls in tight lycra bodysuits! She realises she is very sensitive to the notion that innocent girls are susceptible to predators.

The two are now approaching the venue, and people are still moving slowly through the turnstiles to enter the stadium. Some young guys whistle and catcall as the two walk past towards the officials’ entry, showing the passes given to them by Len, the team coach. The two girls are attractive, and being unaccompanied, they are given a speculative ogle by the males in other queues. The girls seem to show no response. Just the same, Emma notices the slight tilt of Alicia’s chin and her grin as she stares ahead but takes the occasional quick sideways flicker with her eyes.

‘That’s got to be them,’ says Carlos, ‘get things set up Rashid and make sure it’s clear in time.’

Chapter Three

The girls move to the hill behind a group of UNSW supporters on seats at the picket fence. Both girls are popular within the group. Emma, being older, is more conservatively dressed than Alicia, wearing classy sports shoes, fashion blue jeans and complementary blue denim jacket. Her dark, glossy hair is smooth and shoulder length, highlighting her broad strong shoulders tapering to very attractive waist and lower body, a product of her fitness. The blouse she has under the jacket has the two top buttons unfastened and shows just enough flesh to tempt a better view of the physical attractions beneath.

Alicia, on the other hand, though very similar in height and structure to Emma, is dressed more like most other 18-year-old girls in tight shorts showing off her shapely legs and backside. She wears a halter-neck top exposing her midriff, and above that, she wears a blue denim jacket similar to Emma for when the game finishes. Her hair is like Emma’s, dark and flowing, but not quite as silky or well groomed. Although dressed and groomed differently, neither wears head cover and both look very much alike from the back and could be mistaken for sisters. In a crowd, they would be hard to separate.

‘I’m looking forward to this,’ says Emma. ‘I want to see Len’s influence on the way they play now. I especially like his ability to pick the best way to encourage the players. I’ve seen him match the individual’s temperament with how he speaks to them, and the role he gives them. He expects them to take the responsibility though once they take the field. I’m learning more practical things I can use myself as a sports teacher.’

‘Don’t under rate yourself, Emma. You’ve been my high school teacher for years, and a lot of the credit for the medals I’ve collected goes to you.’

‘Well, now you’ve finished school, I hope you keep on with your sport. I believe that’s had a lot to do with your academic success as well and the overseas scholarship you’ve just won.’

‘I’ll miss your company when I leave,’ says Alicia, ‘I enjoyed training with you after school in the gym, and now I might be overseas for a couple of years.’

‘Our friendship shouldn’t suffer, Alicia, and I expect you to keep in touch.’

Emma likes Alicia’s attitude. She knows she comes from middle-class parents of limited education, yet she has blossomed into leader potential because of her intelligence coupled with her will to succeed. Those attributes have given Alicia acclaim in her final year. Her achievements have won her an overseas scholarship at UWS (University of Western Sydney), partly sponsored by her high school Danbala, a school that endeavours to produce young women with leadership potential. A scholarship brings prestige to the school. Danbala is proud of Alicia. Now with her finishing high school, these two are able to behave openly as close friends, which was difficult for their former teacher student relationship.

While they chat, the UNSW team is dominating the first half, and suddenly Manny shows a glimpse of his brilliance. He receives a well-directed pass, pivots, takes on two defenders, then cleverly slots a goal past the outstretched keeper. The crowd is on their feet. Alicia and Emma shriek with delight and join into a frenzy of backslaps and hugs with their friends.

After the half-time recess, it’s the Olympic players who come out inspired, and the balance of possession changes. They’re now quicker onto the ball, more aggressive and making overlapping runs with enthusiasm. The longer the game progresses, the more dominant they become. As the end draws close, Alicia drags Emma towards the gate from the playing surface where she is anxious to embrace the players leaving the field. This opportunity is exciting for Alicia in particular, so she can arouse the attention of the captain, Steve, rather than her sibling.

Suddenly, the Olympic number nine equalises with an excellent goal, and minutes later he is threatening to score a second. Boris, the UNSW centre-back attempts a tackle, and number nine crashes to the turf. The Olympic supporters erupt. ‘Off – off – off – bloody hacker – send him off Ref!’ And the rage continues as the referee runs in to separate players and then signal to the St John’s ambos to attend to the striker. The referee raises a red card to Boris and points to the exit gate.

‘It was a fucking dive, ref – I didn’t touch the bastard,’ argues Boris.

The referee has now awarded a penalty kick and points to the spot.

But a new excitement occurs as Boris passes through the gate into the crowd.

‘You should be fucking banned,’ screams someone in the mob. ‘You’re a bloody animal. You’re a lousy hacker!’

As Boris tries to push through, several more jostle him. Then a spectator rushes him from behind and punches him hard in the back of the head. A coward punch. More rush in to join the mêlée, and as Boris regains balance from his stumble, he spins quickly around, and decks his attacker with a mighty right cross. Two security guards rush through the gate, forcing a path through the spectators.

The decked spectator is bleeding from the mouth and looks badly hurt. The two Saint John’s Ambulance men have finished attending the Olympic number nine and they are waved over by the security guards.

The predators watching the girls suddenly see a new opportunity has opened for them as Boris comes through the gate with the crowd pushing, shoving and shouting abuse. Their plan is urgently brought forward as Alicia and Emma are caught up and separated in the commotion. Emma is suddenly grabbed from behind. She is held in a bear hug with her head pushed down and another arm across her face.

The adrenaline is flooding her veins, blood rushes to her face and neck, her stomach clenches, her heart pumps faster. What’s happening? Look at those feet. He’s huge! I can’t breathe. I can’t scream. I can’t move my arms. Where are they pushing me? She squirms and kicks at their legs and struggles to free her arms.

But she is held too tightly and bundled through the gate and pushed into the back seat of the car with a heavy on each side as it accelerates away. Nothing has ever happened like this in her whole life!

Emma’s mind is buzzing as she struggles. Why me? How brazen they are to do this in broad daylight with thousands of people around. There’s four of them. Do they want to rape me? What can I do? How long will it be before I’m missed? I’m not going to give up without a fight. These goons might think I look like an easy target. They’ll see.

Meanwhile, Boris is bungled by the security men, one on each side, through irate spectators, and they push him towards the change rooms.

Chapter Four

Back on the field, players from both sides surround the penalty area as the number nine moves up to take the spot kick. The fact that he has recovered and prepares to take the kick adds weight to Boris’s claim that there was no real injury but a fake dive. There’s a long silence as the ball is placed for the kick. Crowd focus is back on the game.

The ball canons into the back of the net. ‘Goooaaal,’ scream the spectators, as now whistling and ranting celebrations erupt in the Olympic crowd. The referee immediately gives a long burst of his whistle and stretches his arm out pointing to the side-line to signal completion of the game.

Outside the gate, it’s still crowded, but the win suddenly takes precedence over the former anger. Olympic supporters now flood to the area to congratulate their players as they walk through from the field.

The UNSW players form line inside the gate and shake hands with their opposite Olympic numbers as they move off. Then they drift through, heads down, some in tears, some consoling others. In their despair at the result of the game, UNSW players fail to see or hear how anguished Alicia is. She’s been screaming out to Manny through the throng, but he thinks it’s about the game and doesn’t respond. But it’s Emma she’s screaming about. Something is desperately wrong!

As players enter the change room the mood is solemn. The match was so close. Some players sit on the wooden benches around the walls of their visitor’s room, bowed over with their faces resting in their open palms. A few with tears.

Some have shown their anger by cursing and kicking seats. Others are just mouthing off, some stripping off their playing shirts and throwing them into a pile in another corner of the room. Boris is seated at the end of one bench and has the two security officials standing above him, still in serious conversation. They’ve been here for the last five minutes or so, the time taken for the game to finish, making sure of his safety from the fury of the spectators.

As Manny enters the room, he blurts out. ‘You’re a bastard, Boris – you fucked up bigtime and cost us the cup.’ He is frustrated, angry, gritting his teeth, while Alicia’s pleas from outside still go unheeded.

‘Cool it, you two,’ Len interrupts, ‘shit happens and no one’s to blame. The game’s history now. You all played well and we’re unlucky to lose. There’s lessons to learn, but leave it for now.’ And then, he walks over to the security men.

‘So, what now? You must’ve seen our player was attacked first!’

‘The ambos have already told me the injured spectator is okay and realises what he did was wrong in the first place. That doesn’t give your player the right to cause serious injury to a spectator just the same.’ He gives Len a hard stare, but then he continues. ‘But we didn’t see the incident first-hand. That makes it hard for us. I’ll tell the ref I can make out an independent report if he wants one,’ he says, ‘the Federation may want to take matters up