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Scavenger Hunt

Barry Buckingham




  For my children.

  You fill me with me great joy and bring me immense happiness.

  Dad XXX

  Published 2014

  Re-edited in March 2016.

  Copyright ©

  Barry Buckingham has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover, other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of total fiction.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Dave Arden (www.onlinebookservices.com)

  Cover artwork created by Fayefayedesigns

  Table of contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Other books by Barry Buckingham

  Author’s website

  About the author

  Sneak preview of Man Hunt

  Military thrillers

  Scavenger Hunt

  Man Hunt

  Hunted

  Adventure thrillers

  Barracuda Jewel

  Supernatural thrillers

  The MW series:

  Manhattan Wolf

  2. Solar Eclipse

  3. Red Dawn

  The Scalpturio series:

  1. The Beginning

  2. The Pack

  scavenger

  HUNT

  Prologue

  The moon was full and bright, there wasn’t a cloud in the night sky as the aircraft taxied to the end of the runway. The captain carried out his final take-off checks and spoke to the tower. He then looked at his co-pilot, nodded, took a deep breath and put his hand on the throttles. The co-pilot returned the nod and placed his hand behind the captains, ready to shadow his movements. A final scan of the instruments and the captain moved the throttles forward.

  The heavy aircraft, its props chewing at the air, lurched forward against its brakes as it eagerly waited to start its mission. Its passengers felt the airframe vibrate through their seats as the power came on.

  The captain looked at his co-pilot, “Ready?”

  "Ready," he nodded back.

  The captain looked forward at the runway lights as they glowed in the dark, then released the brakes.

  Barely clear of the ground, the hydraulics groaned as the undercarriage came up, clunking into place. The captain climbed the aircraft steeply to avoid the mountain range in front of them then turned the nose towards their first waypoint. After a few minutes, he settled the aircraft at its cruise height and sat back.

  The four-man team, sat inside the darkened cargo hold, patiently waited for the green jump light to illuminate as they chatted about the beers they were owed by their Commanding Officer back at base. The air loadmaster sat waiting for the ready signal and smiled at their calmness.

  The contact they were meeting was already in position, he was squeezed in-between two rocks at the bottom of a shallow gully. Once the team were on the ground it would be his job to transport them to the rendezvous.

  As he sat listening for the aircraft he rubbed his hands together to fight off the cold and thought about the fire lit in his home. “I wish they would hurry,” he cursed.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Although he couldn’t see it in the darkness, he could hear it. With its low whistling rumble coming from its four Rolls-Royce engines, the Hercules was right on time.

  As instructed, he went forward and lit his flare, then retreated quickly back to his little hole and waited for the first man to land.

  The captain spotted the flare first, pointing it out to his co-pilot. He nodded at the switch above him, the co-Pilot flicked it on, changing the colour of the warning light in the cargo bay. The Air Load Master had already moved over to the control panel that operated the huge loading ramp doors at the rear when he felt the aircraft start to slow. He watched as the signal light changed, then checked his safety line before opening up the back of the aircraft–it was a long way down without a chute–and watched as the doors opened. Once they had clunked into position he turned and beckoned the four jumpers forward. He smiled to himself as they waddled over like oversized ducks.

  The four men held on to each other to steady themselves as they stood in silence looking out into the dark. They watched the desert floor–three kilometres below them–pass slowly by, only just being able to make out the ghostly grey shapes of the dunes below.

  With their final equipment checks completed, they waited patiently for the jump signal to start their part of the mission.

  One of the soldiers checked the bag attached to the front of his jumpsuit, again. This was the payment for the exchange, and to leave it on the aircraft now would just be unprofessional.

  When the captain was happy with the position of the aircraft, he looked at his co-pilot and nodded, the co-pilot reached up and flicked the switch that told the men in the back to jump.

  In the cargo bay, the air loadmaster tapped the man closest to him on the shoulder and gave him the thumbs up. The front two stepped off into the dark void, a fraction of a second later, the second pair followed.

  Once they had controlled the initial tumble from the slipstream, they took a last look at the aircraft as it started its turn and headed back home, then scanning the ground, they eye-balled the landing flare, adjusted their flight path, and waited for their chutes to open automatically.

  Reaching terminal velocity, they were still over ten kilometres from where the exchange would take place, but with the night sky being so clear and the land so flat, and now free from the restriction of the cabin fuselage, they could see the lights and the outlines of the Mosques which defined the skyline of Baghdad so clearly in the distance.

  The contact watched as the first canopy opened, and marvelled as the soldier landed within a metre of the flare. The other three touching down within thirty seconds of him. They bundled
their chutes up and disappeared into the darkness.

  “About time,” the contact grumbled to himself, as he watched them disappear into the rocks. He pulled himself out from his hiding place and approached the dying flare.

  He stood for a moment, nervously looking around, before one of the soldiers approached him, and said, “The sand is hot here.”

  “Not in England,” he replied.

  There was a pause, then they nodded.

  “Follow me, we don’t have much time,” the contact ordered.

  The soldier watched him scurry away to a waiting car, he then put his hand up and signalled to his men.

  Once in, the contact sped off, driving them towards the city’s lights the soldiers had seen on their free-fall through space.

  After a few minutes, the contact asked, “Do you have the goods?”

  “That's no concern of yours,” one of the soldiers replied. “Your job is to drive us to meet with the other contact.”

  “I am the contact. The other man was not to be trusted, so I took care of him!”

  The soldier turned and looked at his team, the one in the middle nodded. He turned back to the contact, “Yes! Do you have the case?”

  “It's in my house.”

  As he drove through the streets, the contact noticed the soldiers were shuffling around in their seats. To try and calm them down, he said, “A lull in the fighting for a change.”

  The four soldiers nodded and looked around–the silence, the empty streets, and now the death of the other contact, making them nervous.

  Arriving at the house, two of the soldiers followed the contact inside whilst the other two took up positions outside–stepping back into the shadows they melted into the dark.

  As the two soldiers walked through the little house they could smell something cooking. The contact noticed them sniffing the air, “Dinner, for when you're gone,” he smiled.

  He went over to the far side of the room and shifted a wall unit aside, revealing a door. Opening it, he motioned for them to follow. The two soldiers watched him disappear, they looked at each other, scanned the room, and then followed him in.

  Stooping to go through the undersized door, they had to stay stooped as the ceiling was at the same height. They crouched down behind a small table and looked at the contact as he watched them.

  The contact motioned towards a safe up against the far wall, and said, “The case is in the safe.”

  One of the soldiers removed the package that was attached to his jumpsuit and placed it on the table, setting it squarely in the centre. The contact looked at it and smiled. He went to pick it up but the soldier took his handgun out and pushed it into his face. “First the case!” he demanded.

  The contact, his eyes widening, swallowed and looked at the handgun, “You English are so untrusting!” he said, taking a pace back.

  The soldier flicked his weapon at the safe, and ordered, “Case first!”

  The contact, starting to sweat from the heat in the confined space, took a small piece of cloth out of his coat pocket and wiped his face, he then removed his coat and went over to the safe and laid it on the floor to kneel on.

  As he knelt, he breathed in the sweet smell of the lamb cooking in the other room, his mouth started to water with the anticipation of the meal to come. He used the cloth to wipe the saliva out of his beard whilst nodding at the two soldiers. When he'd done, he turned back to the safe.

  Once it was open, he removed a small metal box from the space inside and placed it on the ground behind him, in full view of the two soldiers, he then turned back to the safe and lifted the floor the small box had been sitting on.

  Earlier that day he had positioned a small mirror inside the safe for the sole purpose of being able to see what the soldiers were doing while he was turned away from them.

  Pausing for a second to say a quick prayer, he leant in and put his hand on a revolver. He took another look in the mirror, on seeing the two soldiers were talking and pointing out the door, he turned and shot them. They fell back against the wall, one of them toppling over, the other staying crouched.

  As they stared blankly, the contact smiled, he hadn’t worried about the noise as he wanted to draw the other two soldiers inside.

  Outside, the two soldiers hearing the shots cautiously approached the house. They waited a few moments, to see if their comrades emerged. When they didn’t, one of them called their names. When there was no answer they looked at each other and nodded, and went in. The contact was already waiting in the dark, he allowed them to get into the small entrance hall before opening fire.

  The first part of his plan had worked smoothly, the second part would be easier - to leave with the fee.

  He stripped off their weapons and placed them in the safe, then pulled the bodies into the small room, covering them with an old tarpaulin.

  Putting the fee into four pouches, binding each with a leather lace and placing them in his box, he put it back in the safe. Once finished, he pulled the wall cabinet back, ensuring the entrance to the room was invisible again.

  The contact, having been educated in America, missed the freedom and openness and friendliness shown to him whilst living there, also, he liked the women, especially the one who’d shown him a kindness and closeness that he would never find in his home country.

  He had put his plan into action, killing the second contact two weeks prior and informing the British that the safe house had been compromised. Now he had the money to retire and buy the beach house in California that he would share with the woman who he had fallen in love with. What he hadn’t planned for, was the fifth member of the team.

  The lone soldier had parachuted down after the first group. The now slaughtered soldiers didn’t even know about him. He wasn’t there because they couldn’t be trusted, he was there as a back-up in case things went wrong. He had hidden out on the flight deck, sitting in the engineer’s seat, the captain, the co-pilot and the air loadmaster had all known about him. As soon as the four soldiers had jumped, he had been called to the back of the aircraft and stood on the edge, ready. He’d watched as they completed their freefall and their chutes had opened before judging it was safe.

  His jump had been delayed though. He had hoped for a cloudy night so he could have jumped sooner–an overcast sky would have given him the cover he needed instead, he had to wait until the soldier’s chutes had deployed, they would then be concentrating on the landing spot, not watching their aircraft moving off into the distance.

  The captain had to take the aircraft around to line up for the jump again, delaying him by over two minutes.

  Once he landed, using the dying flare as a guide, he hid his chute and opened his backpack. Inside was a small two stroke fold-up motorcycle he would use to follow the soldiers. It took him less than three minutes to assemble and get it running, he then set off in pursuit.

  Following them had been made easier because he had slipped a locating beacon into one of the soldier’s backpacks before they’d boarded the aircraft, but by the time he was mobile he was already eight minutes behind the team.

  Riding into the city he adjusted his direction left or right if the receiver made a buzz or a beep. What worried him though, was that it only had a range of fifteen kilometres, so he was relieved when he’d picked up the signal so quickly.

  He made his way through the narrow alleys, trying to stay hidden, but as soon as his locator showed he was within half a kilometre from their position he ditched the bike and set off on foot. He pushed the bike up against a tree, checked the signal, and headed off.

  When he was within one-hundred metres, he heard two shots fired in close succession. He dropped behind a wall and waited a few moments to see if anyone responded. When there was no movement he set off, this time at a faster pace, then he heard another two shots.

  He’d had a bad feeling about the mission from the start. With the weather being against him, delaying his jump, his anxiety had started to rise.

 
As he got closer to the team’s position, he stopped and scanned the area to see if he could spot them. Not being able to see them warned him that something had gone catastrophically wrong! He waited a few minutes and then went forward to the house the signal showed them to be in.

  Peering through one of the windows, he saw a man he recognised as the second contact putting a handgun in a drawer. He scanned the room for his team but couldn’t see them.

  He decided he had to get the man out of the house. “Out in the open would be easier, and safer,” he thought.

  He made a noise to draw him outside, it worked. The contact removed his weapon from the drawer and went to investigate. Nervous, he opened his door slightly and peered into the darkness. The soldier blinked as a torch flicked on, the beam catching his eyes as the man scanned his front yard. On seeing nothing, he came out of his house and walked towards the wall the soldier was crouched behind, to a gap that was used as an entrance.

  When he was halfway down the path, the soldier stood and raised his handgun. “Halt,” he ordered, quietly.

  The contact hesitated for a second, then raised his weapon. The soldier fired one aimed round at his shoulder, intending to wound him so he could question him inside, but he twisted and the bullet hit him in the chest. The soldier tutted at the contact’s stupidity.

  He looked around quickly as he went forward, checking no one had decided to see what all the noise was about.

  He felt for a pulse, it was slight. “Good,” he thought, as he stood and kicked his weapon away.

  He went inside to see if he could find his team, but the place was empty.

  Going back to drag the contact inside so he could question him properly, he shook his head at his stupidity for not pulling him in with him in the first place. When he got outside, the contact, who he thought was unconscious, was now standing up and leaning against the building. He’d found his weapon and fired, emptying it into the soldier.

  The contact staggered back into his house and collapsed, he slipped into unconsciousness, never waking to see his villa in Spain.

  1

  Present day.

  “You can’t beat a hot Sunday afternoon in the middle of August, especially when you’re sitting in a rowing boat with the girl of your dreams looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. Bliss. All I need now is a pint and the footy on the telly,” Dave thought to himself, smiling.