Adams Terror in Paradise

1. Auflage 2020
ISBN: 978-1-0983-2147-5
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 274 Seiten

Steve Wallace is ex SAS and one of the best, but this undercover job calls more for a James Bond or Jason Bourne. ISIS is funding evil plans to dominate the world by selling stolen artefacts- The CIA request Agent Wallace go undercover to collect Intelligence that will lead to the destruction of the terrorists smuggling and banking organisation. Reader Review Terror in Paradise A rollicking tale, I love a mystery to be solved and plenty of intrigue and drama along the way, complete with an Australian hero in the essence of James Bond. I really enjoyed being taken to exotic locations and interesting details about smuggling and ancient artefacts. Prudence Bessant

Autoren/Hrsg.

Adams, David

Leseproben

CHAPTER 1 CANBERRA
AUSTRALIAN CAPITAL TERRITORY
AUSTRALIA I arrived at Canberra Airport after two commercial flights and was picked up by a young Corporal who saluted me as I was now on duty, like an electric switch that made me Major Steve Wallace. At times, I found it a little hard to comprehend, living such a dual existence. One day I was happy, living in sleepy Roma Queensland with my girlfriend, Chris. A phone call and off I go to our nation’s capital, to be sent anywhere and whenever they needed my skill set. After a successful career in the Army, I knew when I had had enough. I was due to re-enlist but instead retired much to the shock of my Army mates and Superior Officers. I had bummed around for a while in holiday mode and then had found a secluded spot where my Border Collie Jake and I could hunt and fish and avoid people. Jake and I shared a basic camp, but we wanted for nothing and had settled into a simple subsistence life occasionally helping my cattle farmer friend when needed. Just over a year ago after a series of events near my camp tipped my world on its head. I came out of retirement to work as an operative with the National Security Centre (NSC), a combined anti-terrorist organisation answering only to the Prime Minister. How that all happened is a long story for another time. Taking my go-bag, and throwing it on the back seat, the Corporal said. “Welcome to sunny Canberra, Sir.” As he drove the well-designed streets of Canberra to HQ, I thought he was far too cheerful and Canberra, as usual, was cold, cloudy and grey. After a very brief welcome from Colonel Goodrich, the briefing began in proper. Colonel Goodrich looked up from his desk. “Steve, thanks for coming down so quickly. I hope you weren’t busy when I called.” Smiling to myself, I thought of how I was about to get busy when that damned phone rang. “No, Sir, not at all, to be honest. I was still in bed.” My mind wandered back to our sunny bedroom, was that this morning; I was lying next to Chris my beautiful girlfriend. The insistent drumming of my phone on the bedside table intruded on the warm sunny room. I grabbed the phone mumbling to myself. “I hate frigging mobile phones; it was better out in the bush where I didn’t have a frigging signal.” I remembered getting out of bed so as not to disturb Chris. I went into the lounge. Unimpressed, not attempting to hide my irritation, I answered. “Steve Wallace.” The Colonel, ignoring my sullen tone. “Steve, good to hear your voice, it’s Pete Goodrich, can you talk?” I smiled and adjusted my attitude; Colonel Goodrich was a Section Head at the National Security Centre (NSC) Canberra. He had been instrumental in forwarding and supporting my concerns about the military activity I had observed on the neighbouring cattle property and was now my boss. Never a big conversationalist, the Colonel got straight to it. “Mate, I need you wheels up ASAP; we have a job requiring your special skills.” “Roger that Sir, what’s the plan?” Goodrich answered. “Fly to Canberra, and I’ll brief you, and away you go, pack for hot. See you tonight, OK?”. “All good, Sir, see you ASAP.” I knew what all this meant; only the details were unknown. Once I had accepted the job offer from NSC’s Brigadier Dodds after the raid on the camp, I was theirs. The arrangement was straightforward; I was to be on call to carry out covert operations, assassinations, reconnaissance, or anything else they needed. Life was sitting tight in domestic bliss until they beckoned. I was living a strange mix of normalcy living with Chris in beautiful Roma Australia with some war zone a call away. As much as I enjoyed my new ‘civilian’ life, in the back of my mind I was always waiting for the call that could send me to the ends of the earth on another mission. I knew one way or another someone’s death would always be the outcome. I had also learned to avoid the thought that every mission could mean my end as well. That said, if I was honest, I had missed the ‘Rock and Roll,’ the adventure and danger that made for a great job. Colonel Goodrich’s raised voice brought my thoughts back to his office. “STEVE, are you with me?” I started thinking; it wasn’t like me to daydream, I wondered if domestic bliss was changing me. “Sorry, Sir, all good.” “OK, Steve, keep us informed of your loc as usual, use your credit card, and we’ll know where you are and hope that it was you who used it.” Picking up on the undertone of his statement, I responded. “Yes Sir, from what I can see in the briefing it looks pretty good, a quick in and out. If you see my card buying a massage, it’ll be me, and I’m better than OK.” Laughing, Goodrich moved on. “Hilarious Major Wallace, all good, the Corporal will take you to the Armoury, you choose the ‘cutlery’ and God willing, and if the creeks don’t rise, I’ll see you when you get back in a couple of days.” Smiling, I recognised the saying John Wayne quoted in many cowboy movies. It did seem to fit rather well to my impending mission. “Thanks, Sir, will do.” I stood and shook hands with the Colonel and turned to leave his office. Corporal Baldwin was waiting for me. As soldiers do, we fell into step with each other walking along the hospital white corridor past several unmarked doors. “Sir, as the Boss probably told you, we are off to the Armoury. He asked me to steer towards the knives for this one. There’s a nice collection of edged weapons down there for you to choose from.” We took the lift down to what the Corporal called the dungeon turning right after we exited. Arriving at a large steel door, Corporal Baldwin pressed a security pass to a wall-mounted digital reader. A metallic voice asked. “Good morning, Corporal Baldwin. What is the purpose of your visit?”Baldwin replied. “Major Wallace here to be kitted ASAP.” There was a loud click followed by a clunk, and the heavy Armoury door opened. “Lurch, you wouldn’t have met Major Wallace.” It was a statement, not a question. Turning to me, Corporal Baldwin smiled. “This is Sergeant Adams Sir; we don’t let him up into daylight very often. His nickname is Lurch.” Despite the informal introduction, Sergeant Adams saluted as he was wearing his beret. “Honour to meet you, Sir. Please have a look around. Any questions, ask.” I returned his salute. “Will do Sergeant thanks for the welcome. Can you show me your knife collection first?” We walked past walls covered in racks and display cabinets overflowing with weapons of every kind. To me, it was like Aladdin’s cave. Every conceivable killing tool from my favourite Barrett 50 Cal Sniper rifle, rocket launchers to several styles of Garrottes for an up-close and personal version of death. We got to the edged weapon section. I recognised bayonets from every part of the world, and the collection of civilian knives was impressive. It was from within this group I would make my choice. My mission was simple. Although, in my experience, it is often the ones that appear straightforward that blow up in your face. I was to fly to East Timor where a local Mayor of a city called Lospalos. He was backed by Indonesian Islamic Fundamentalists who were agitating against the hard-won independence. The Mayor was encouraging and equipping young zealots to carry out attacks on Australian tourist, local Christians and missionaries. So far, they had been responsible for several suicide bombings, violent muggings and rapes and the poisoning of copious large quantities of drugs and booze sold to tourist in Bali and Djakarta. I chose my weapon a plain yet functional knife, and we headed back upstairs. My flight left in just under four hours, so the Corporal and I retraced our steps back to the Canberra airport and boarded my flight to Sydney. Eventually, we took off from Kingsford-Smith International I was asleep before we lifted off. I awoke at some stage in the flight and pondered the more profound things of my life. I knew I loved Chris, and she was right for me in so many ways. But as much as that was true, I couldn’t help but see it as an unplanned complication now I was back on duty. I had seen my first marriage self-destruct, and many of my SAS mate’s marriages break up due to lengthy training and deployments away from home. My fly in fly out set up should solve that. However, I also knew it placed an unfair burden on Chris, waiting for a call to say I had been killed or was missing. If I was honest with myself, it was a new distraction to me when I was on operations; it was one I could do without. “Would you like something to drink Sir?” I looked up to see a steward asking me. “Jack on the rocks would be great, please.” EAST TIMOR Eight-and-a-half hours later, I woke as the landing gear was lowered. I figured it might be...