Mike Sixsmith - Exit Plan

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to my wife, Jo

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by

PEN & SWORD MILITARY

an imprint of

Pen and Sword Books Ltd

47 Church Street

Barnsley

South Yorkshire S70 2AS

Copyright Mike Sixsmith, 2012

ISBN 978 1 78159 097 3

eISBN 978 1 78337 845 6

The right of Mike Sixsmith to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any formor by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the Publisher in writing.

Printed and bound in England

by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

Typeset in Times New Roman by

CHIC GRAPHICS

Pen & Sword Books Ltd incorporates the imprints of

Pen & Sword Aviation, Pen & Sword Family history, Pen & Sword Maritime,

Pen & Sword Military, Pen & Sword Discovery, Wharncliffe Local history,

Wharncliffe True Crime, Wharncliffe Transport, Pen & Sword Select,

Pen & Sword Military Classics, Leo Cooper, Remember When,

The Praetorian Press, Seaforth Publishing and Frontline Publishing

For a complete list of Pen and Sword titles please contact

Pen and Sword Books Limited

47 Church Street, Barnsley, South Yorkshire, S70 2AS, England

E-mail: enquiries@pen-and-sword.co.uk

Website: www.pen-and-sword.co.uk

Contents

There are many people that I have to thank for assisting with the birth of this novel. Some remain unknown to me, several would have been unaware hitherto of their contribution, but I am as indebted to them all as to those others who helped knowingly.

Firstly, there is the team at Pen & Sword who have had sufficient confidence in the story to publish: Sir Nick Hewitt, Charles Hewitt, Laura Hirst, Laura Lawton and Pamela Covey, and the rest of the team.

Prior to writing: Hugh Robertson MP, Helen and Charles Smart, Philip Grant, Robin Eccles, Richard Linforth, Arish Turle, Wilf Charlesworth, Edmund Sixsmith, Simon Collis, Mike Bell and many members of my local community.

During writing: Peter Duffy and Dame Antonia Byatt, Nicholas McMahon Turner, Jason Elliot, Sam Edenborough, Robin Wade and Ian Swingland.

Many thanks to Mr Akbar Ahmed, author of Journey Into Islam , for kindly giving permission to quote from his work in .

Throughout the time, my wife, and children Liv, Rob and Ed, have been a source of inspiration and pride, sharing in, and helping me through, some of the experiences which led to the conception of the book.

Although inspired in parts by the authors personal experiences, this is a work of fiction it is not intended to portray real events.

He issued a few staccato words in guttural Arabic. Immediately his people began a thorough search of the office. It did not take them long to discover the trunk in the storeroom. A couple of young Arabs opened it and whistled in astonishment. Immediately they called over the leader. Looks of surprise, then disgust, quickly turning to a gleam of triumph followed each other across his face.

Sons of fuckers! Take these infidels and spies away! said the leader.

You know where to!

The Boeing BBJ circled round Dubai, turning back over the Hajjar mountains and banking over The Persian Gulf in the direction of the city as the plane lost altitude on its automated flight path. The passengers could see the citys rooftops rushing towards them. On the starboard side the Creek was in view and further away the Dubai World Trade Centre stood proudly silhouetted against the setting sun. The plane passed over the Al Muraqqabat area, along Al Rigga Road and crossed the Sharjah Road before touching down. As soon as the pilot had depressed the flaps and put the throttle on full reverse thrust, the plane quickly slowed to taxiing speed. It began to cross the airfield. However, it did not head in the direction of the airport buildings, with their recently completed state-of-the-art new terminal. Instead it taxied to the far north-west corner of the airfield where it came to a halt near the perimeter fence. The pilot cut the engines.

At the same time a white 500 series Mercedes-Benz could be seen moving fast, away from the terminal buildings, in the direction of the parked aircraft. It was accompanied to front and rear by several other vehicles, black Mercedes, driving, as if in a naval convoy, in line astern. On approaching the plane the black vehicles moved to either side, turning at speed to face outwards, away from the plane and coming to an abrupt halt. Immediately their doors swung open and the occupants jumped out and, fanning out, adopted an on-guard position. It could be seen that each had a weapon, which they held at the high port with fingers along the trigger guards. Most had pistols, the Heckler & Koch HK Mark 23 .45 ACP, one of the most thoroughly tested handguns in history, with a match grade accuracy equal to that of the finest custom-made handgun, but exceeding the most stringent operational requirements ever demanded of a combat handgun. One person in each group held an Ingram MAC Model 10 point 0.45 sub-machine gun, with a cyclic rate of 1,145 rounds per minute. It would have been clear to any professional observer, had there been one in this remote area of the airfield, that these were highly trained professionals, acting in accordance with well-practised drills, using specially selected weapons.

The white Merc parked at the bottom of the planes doorway, where some inboard steps had been lowered to await the visitors arrival. The driver, and one guard from the back, dismounted promptly and assumed the same posture as their colleagues.

A tall Arab wearing a purple dishdasha got out of the back of the Mercedes accompanied by a larger, rotund Arab in a white dishdasha. There was no doubt that the man in purple was in charge. He had a haughty look with strong, aquiline features and the quintessential hooked nose of a Bedouin tribesman. At the same time, there was movement at the top of the aircraft steps. A squat, strongly-muscled Indian, with full, black, wavy hair and the look of a Bollywood buccaneer, wearing black trousers and black T-shirt with a flashing golden leather jewelled belt, emerged from inside the fuselage. He was followed by a retinue of similar ostentatiously dressed Indians. He came briskly down the steps so that he and the Arab met at the lowest step.

Salaam alaikum, Sheikh Abdul, kafh il hal? said the Indian, beaming widely at the Arab.

Alaikum salaam, tamaam shokran, wa inta? responded the Sheikh, with only a brief softening of his face in response to the Indians effusiveness. The two embraced, kissing each other three times on the face from side to side.

The Indian beckoned to the new arrival and ushered him up the stairs past what looked like a guard of honour. The Indian retinue moved back on either side of the steps in order that the two principals could ascend, which they did arm-in-arm, until disappearing into the aircraft.