Chapter 5 – The Valais Massacre

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“ETA in approximately nine minutes,” came a voice from the front of the small airplane. Alex was sitting in the back, his heart beating extremely fast, the roaring of the engine in his ears not enough to distract him from the thought that this idea was going to go horribly wrong.

Wolf was sitting next to him and had not said anything about their encounter in Tokyo – when Alex had accused him of being a double agent. Alex supposed his silence was a mixture of playing by the military rules he so strictly adhered to and from not wanting to upset Alex again.

“Wolf?” said Alex over the noise from the plane.

Wolf turned his head.

“I’m sorry about before ... I was just – confused, and I –”

“- You don’t have to explain, Alex. Mrs Jones filled me in later. I understand.”

The other officers and soldiers on the plane were ignoring them, or else feigning deafness to their conversation. Wolf was with the SAS, of which there were two others on board, there was one SOCA agent, who had the same stony expression as his superior, and four other MI6 operational officers; a team of nine to intercept the chip.

“I heard you’ve started to remember stuff?” said Wolf, leaning in a little closer to make absolutely sure they weren’t heard by the rest.

Alex nodded, but said nothing. He thought if he spoke he might betray the truth.

“That’s OK ... I know the drill, sensitive information and all that. But you’re here to help, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, if you recognise anything about the hanger, if you recognise any faces or names we see, you go tell Matheson,” and he pointed to a sharp nosed man sitting right by the jump-out exit. He was older than the rest and had many lines on his face.

“MI6 is in charge of the operation, whatever SOCA might think,” he added with an uncharacteristically ugly look towards the one SOCA representative, “He’s the team leader. So you make sure he knows what you know.”

“Right,” said Alex, keeping his eyes on Matheson.

“Exit jumps in thirty seconds,” said the disembodied pilot’s voice.

Everyone on the plane got to their feet and checked their parachutes. Alex tugged firmly on his release rope, checking it was in proper working order. His breathing quickened as he stepped towards the exit and the swirling wind. The sky over Valais was black, studded with the occasional stars, and below he could see the darkened runways of the disused airport below them and watched as the first soldier jumped.

One by one they disappeared out of the plane, and Alex was last. He hesitated for a moment before closing his eyes and plunging down, out of the plane, behind Wolf.

The wind whipped his face and he felt himself free-falling with the speed of a bullet, plunging like a heavy stone dropped into a deep lake. It would be very easy for one to panic at this stage and pull the parachute out, but Alex knew he had to wait a few more seconds, so he could navigate his way safely to the rest of the team.

Three ... two ... one...

He pulled the rope and the parachute inflated behind him. He was now able to steer the contraption with his left and right ropes, moving towards the silent team below him.

Alex landed without any trouble and stowed away his parachute in his backpack. Matheson indicated that all should gather around. He held a finder to his lips to initiate silence from all.

“Listen carefully ...” he began in little more than a whisper. “I know we’ve all been briefed on the objective, but I’ve faced Scorpia before, and they don’t take any prisoners. We all need to be together on this, and that means no tension between departments. Is that clear?”

SOCA, SAS and MI6 operatives all looked at each other, but said nothing.

“Is that clear?” repeated Matheson.

There were general nods of assent, and Alex clenched his fists as Matheson turned his attention to wards him.

“Rider, I’ve been informed that you are here solely for informative purposes. Given your age, I wouldn’t have given you a gun, but seeing as it would be like sending you in as a sitting duck without one ... here.”

And he handed Alex a Tokarev automatic pistol with a silencer on the end. It was the first time that MI6 had ever willingly supplied him with a weapon like this, and Alex felt the atmosphere change rapidly. He had kept a simple Wolfram PP gun from his last mission – or what was now a mission that occurred two years ago – how would he ever get used to this?

“Now I want you to alert me immediately if you remember anything about this place. I surely hope you can, because if I’m honest, I think this is a stupid mission.”

Silence followed this, and Alex gripped the gun in his hand.

Matheson made a motion with his fingers, to signal that they should follow him into the hanger. All pulled their black hoods over their heads to mask their appearance, and set off towards the darkness of the hanger.

“Base camp, we are on task to enter the hanger. Please advise on current layout,” Matheson’s voice carried back to Alex from the front as he spoke into his comms device back at MI6 HQ.

Alex heard the answer in his own ear.

“There appears to be two live bodies in the south back room.”

Alex assumed they were using satellite imagery to confirm this.

Matheson continued, and the team followed. The hanger was certainly disused; it smelt musty and old, with dated signs and peeling paint on the walls. They entered through the main door, and Matheson signalled they split into two groups, one on the left and one on the right, to take the two miscreants in the south room. The team had studied the schematics of the hanger on the plane, and so they knew where the corridors lead.

Alex separated from Wolf and followed an SAS soldier down the east corridor towards the room.

“Beta team, be advised, the live bodies in the south back room appeared to be unarmed and not moving.”

Alex thought this was odd; if they had moved the chip here, surely it would be guarded by more than two unarmed men? Perhaps not...

They moved slowly in the darkness, remembering turnings and passageways from the building plan, their eyes adjusting to the opaque blackness. It was so quiet Alex could hear the heavy breathing of the man in front.

Alex remembered that the corridor ought to fork left in order to reach the room where the two supposed Scorpian agents were, but it did not. Instead, there was a solid wall in front of them. It looked very new, as though it had only just been finished.

“Matheson ...” said the SAS soldier in front of him into the comm.. “We’ve hit a wall ... it looks new. I thought this place was disused?”

“The schematics were four years old,” came the reply, which Alex did not see as very helpful.

“Maybe there’s another way into the room?” he suggested.

“Do you remember any of this, kid?” asked the man behind him, peering at him with fear in his eyes. “We could do with an alternate route.”

Alex hesitated, feeling a little sick. “No ... no I don’t recognise it.”

“Cub ... anything familiar?” Alex heard Wolf’s voice at the end of the line.

“No,” replied Alex, ignoring the frustrated looks from his team. “I don’t think I was held in this bit.”

The comm in his ear began to crackle. He did not catch Wolf’s reply. Then, another channel came on the line – it was the base camp, and everyone heard it.

“Beta team – there’s an excess of hostile activity coming your way ... we count fifteen armed men on their way into the hanger. Get out of there now!”

Alex did not think there was any other way but back the way they came, straight into their attackers, and there was more disruption to the signal in his ear ... they couldn’t catch what the operator was saying.

“We need to split up,” Matheson said hurriedly, drawing out his gun and cocking it. “There are too many to take head on. Find somewhere and get the comm working again!”

They ran away from the newly built wall and Alex darted down a darkened corridor the team had bypassed earlier on, following the original blueprints, but they were useless now. Alex heard the rest of the team with him scarper like frantic mice down other corridors, into other rooms, anything to get a vantage point on their attackers.

Alex found the end of the corridor and pushed at a door; it was locked. He took the Tokarev out of its holster and flicked off the safety catch, breathing heavily.

Alex took the comm out of his ear and examined it. There were no loose wires; otherwise it would have been just his that was broken. There seemed to be something disrupting the entire system. It’s probably them, Alex said to himself, thinking about the attackers.

He jammed the comm back into his ear again.

“Wolf? Matheson?”

Nothing, but the line seemed clear, there was just nobody answering. Alex had expected to hear gunfire; the operator had said their attackers were armed and heading towards them ... that must mean they had known they would be there.

Alex peered through the window on the east side of the corridor. Again, nothing. No sign of moving bodies or rapid gunfire, no one crouching and moving stealthily through the retired aircrafts in the hanger ...

Alex gripped his weapon tightly and discarded the comm. He really needed someone at base camp to use the satellite and tell him the situation, but that was out of the question now. He would have to do it for himself.

The corridor seemed a lot longer walking back up it into the path of Scorpia killers who would doubtlessly show him no quarter, but still he saw no one. He reached the end of the corridor and felt beads of sweat slide down the back of his neck. His heart was beating a violent tattoo against the inside of his chest, feeling like a caged bird.

And then he saw the first body. It was the one and only SOCA agent.

Alex drew back immediately behind the wall, sure the killer was still there, but the corpse was quite alone. Alex dropped down next to the man and saw, with a jolt to his stomach, that his throat had been slit from ear to ear. Alex looked away and held the gun out in front of him, ready to shoot anything, but nothing came.

He moved on, reluctant to leave the body, but there was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do about the second one either, or Matheson, who he found a few feet down, again with his throat slit.

Alex began to feel sick. This was a complete ambush, and had been absolutely silent. They would surely find him in a matter of seconds and finish the job.

Alex tried the door handle to his left and tried it as quietly as he could – it opened silently.

There was Wolf, slumped against the back wall of the room bathed in a red light, coming from some operating system on the other side of the hanger. And there, in front of him, was an enormous man with nine-inch carving knife. He knelt down in front of Wolf and grabbed his face, pulling the helpless soldier back into consciousness.

Alex realised what was going to happen two seconds before it did, and he did the only thing he could think of.

“Hey!” he shouted, pointing his gun at Wolf’s would-be murderer.

The large man spun around and got to his feet incredibly quickly, considering his size, and dropped the knife. Alex saw his face; he was a brutal looking man with a prominent nose and deep blue eyes. Alex knew this was no time to show kindness, and he pulled the trigger.

The Tokarev jolted backwards in his hands with the force, and the bullet missed the Scorpian agent by centimetres, hitting the plaster wall behind him and exploding in a shower of white paint. The man stooped and picked up the knife on the floor as Alex tried to reload the gun –

The next moment the knife came slashing through the air towards Alex’s head and he ducked sharply, feeling the knife graze his hair. Alex straightened up swiftly and fired the gun again, this time ready for the recoil, but the man was already through the door and he missed again, but Alex caught the man’s gloating smile as he disappeared.

Alex did not run after him, but rushed towards Wolf, crouching down in front of him.

“Wolf ... are you OK?”

“Thanks to you ... God, that was close –”

“– where are the others?” Alex asked hurriedly, checking behind him as he said it.

“They’re dead.”

“What, all of them? I saw Matheson ...”

“They’re all dead. They knew we were coming, they’d changed the layout. We’ve got to get out of here now ...they’ve probably wired the whole place to blow.”

“Can you move?”

Haltingly, but with as much speed as they dared, Alex and Wolf staggered out of the hanger, Wolf leaning heavily on Alex. As they collapsed by the barbed wire fence, there was an enormous explosion from behind them; the hanger had exploded, no doubt from C4 planted by Scorpia who, as Wolf had pointed out, had known they were coming. A huge wave of heat shot over them and debris showered down. Alex could think of nothing but the charred bodies of the already dead men from inside.

“This was all my fault ...” Alex said heavily.

“No it’s not, Cub ... we probably never got to the part where you were held, and they knew we were coming –”

“But that’s just it! I was never held here! Or if I was, I don’t remember it!”

Wolf’s expression was one of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t remember anything, Wolf. My mind is completely blank. They only sanctioned this mission because they thought I’d know where to go when we got here – and I’ve never been here! I didn’t recognise any of their faces ... I don’t even know the name Weisman. And if I hadn’t lied, maybe they’d all still be alive ...”

Wolf was silent for a moment. It seemed to take him a while to digest this new information. He looked back at Alex, who was rubbing his eyes.

“Maybe they would ... maybe they wouldn’t. Look, Scorpia knew we were coming, no matter what. And that part has nothing to do with you.”

“But I –”

“No but’s. Yeah, OK, maybe you should have told me, if no one else. But I get why you didn’t. You’re trying to find out what happened to you, and odds are, whether you made it up or not, Scorpia are behind it. In the time you were gone, they’ve been causing some serious damage.”

Alex looked up, taking a deep breath.

“I can’t go back with you, Wolf.”

“What? Why?”

“Because they’ll know I lied. When I can’t tell them anything useful, they’ll see right through it. Or at least that bastard Shutter will, and my whole clearance will be pulled. I need my clearance to find out what happened to me!”

Wolf stared at him. “You’re really serious? Where are you going to go?”

“I have no idea ... I can take care of myself, but I need MI6 to trust me again, so I can figure this all out ... I need that chip so they’ll know they can count on me ...”

“Did you get a good look at that guy’s face?”

“Yes.”

“OK ... you’re not going to like what I’m going to say, but it could help you. You should go and see Yassen Gregorovitch.”

Alex raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Pardon?”

“Gregorovitch. He runs a prominent relief agency in Zurich –”

“-wait a minute, wait a minute ... Yassen Gregorovitch is dead. I watched him die on an aeroplane when that crazed singer shot him. I watched him die!” Alex repeated in disbelief.

“No, you didn’t. We thought he was dead too. After you and that girl got off that plane, it was infiltrated by god knows who, and they took him off and resuscitated him. Trust me, if I hadn’t seen him for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it to be true either, Alex, but it is. He’s alive, and he’s head of the Third World Programme.”

“But ... but how? He’s an international terrorist!”

Wolf gave an ironic smile. “He’s negotiated a pardon with the British government. MI6 weren’t happy about it at all, but with all his contact he agreed to be an intelligence consultant.”

“I don’t believe this ... I actually don’t ...”

“Alex, you don’t have a lot of time,” said Wolf. “My comm is up and working, HQ is asking what’s going on. What do you want me to tell them?”

Alex bit his lip and looked at the lightening morning sky over Valais.

“Tell them what happened with the others, and tell them that you never saw me. This conversation never happened.”

And with that, he stood up and holstered his gun.

“Alex ... be careful.”

Alex nodded. “I will. Thanks, Wolf. You’re a real friend.”

Wolf shrugged and made to speak into the comm. Alex understood this as a sign that he should get the hell out of there, and go and see Gregorovitch.

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