Read The First Chapter Of 'The Namibian Offensive (CodeName: Orcus Book 3)' by Thomas J Eyre

The Namibian Offensive 

(CodeName: Orcus Book 3) 

by Thomas J Eyre 

Chapter 1 

Patrick Regan’s phone vibrated quietly in his pocket as it received a message. He fished the phone out and unlocked the screen. We need to talk. Meet me tomorrow @ 10:00hrs Starbucks M3 Fleet Services Northbound. ‘How far are we off the M3, Dave?’ Dave glanced back over his shoulder from the driver’s seat. ‘About a hundred and fifty miles I think, why?’ ‘Just picked up a message from Pete Chapman. He wants a meet in the morning.’ ‘Has tonight’s op been scrubbed?’ ‘Nope. Tonight goes ahead as planned.’ ‘Cool.’ Dave sounded a little too keen to get back into action. He should be guarding his leg. But trying to get Dave to rest was a pointless op in itself. Not even Paddy’s kid sister could talk sense into the stubborn sniper. Paddy winced as Dave glanced back over his shoulder again while weaving their armoured RV and Rover-loaded trailer through the M1 traffic. ‘You’re not thinking of rolling in there for a meet ’n greet in Fugly, are you?’ ‘No, I’m hoping to take the Rover, provided you don’t smash it to hell and back. Keep your eyes front, will you?’ Once Dave had dropped back to the slow lane, Paddy took a calming breath and slapped the side of their armoured recreational vehicle affectionately. ‘We’re not introducing Chapman to this beast until I fully trust him. Nah, I reckon we drift on down the motorway a bit and hole up at that boozer we got shit-faced in when we were on that obbo job.’

‘Break it down a bit, Pads. We’ve been shit faced in pretty much every boozer between here and the black stump.’ Paddy clicked his fingers, trying to remember. We’d been in Newbury—’ ‘Oh! Greenham Common peace camp. Yeah, I remember. Ish.’ ‘We were with that Welsh twat… Sod it, what was his name?’ ‘Kelly, you mean? Kitbag Kelly?’ Paddy laughed. ‘Yeah, that was him—and his spotter, Chicken George. They were supposed to be relieving us so we could head down to HMS Fearless for transit over to Northern Ireland.’ ‘Dummer!’ Dave yelled. ‘That was the village. Still can’t remember the name of that boozer, though.’ ‘For God’s sake,’ Susie called from her cabin, ‘Just Google it, would you? I don’t know why you’re fixated on it anyway—it’s not like we can check in after eleven.’ Grinning at his sister’s grumpy outburst, Paddy fired up his iPad and did a quick search. 

A minute or so later, he had his answer. ‘It’s called The Sun Inn. I had to know, or it would’ve driven me nuts.’ Dave shrugged. ‘She’s right though—no getting a bed there at this hour.’ ‘Let’s see how the morning goes. I’ll shoot down to Fleet to meet up with Chapman, and you and Susie can decide whether to take a day, or truck on back to Haven.’ ‘Sounds like a plan. ’ Dave cleared his throat. ‘Do you think he’s organised our new identities?’ Paddy sighed. Their cold war bunker in Poole might be well-equipped and off the radar, but it was hardly a forever home. He could appreciate Dave’s itch to have something that felt like a normal life aboveground with some actual sunlight. The cabin fever was beginning to drive them all mental. ‘I don’t know, mate. I’ve told him the clock’s ticking, though. 

He’s had a while to get them sorted.’ ‘Meet who?’ Susie asked as she emerged from the cabin, yawning and stretching. ‘Chapman. He wants a chat in the morning. Did you sleep alright, Suze?’ ‘Yeah, the motion helped.’ Paddy smiled. ‘You were the same as a baby. Whenever I got left to babysit, the only way to get you to nod off was to take you out for a drive.’ She grinned, but still looked shaken and pale. ‘Shitty dreams?’ ‘Non-stop.’ She rubbed her neck. ‘It helps to know that Grantham’s dead, but I still can’t fight him off in my sleep, no matter how much we practice sparring during the day. I want to throat-punch the cocksucker, but I bloody can’t.’ She dropped down onto the couch alongside Paddy and leant up against him. He let her snuggle up for a minute or two, until her expression was slightly less bloodthirsty. ‘Have there been any updates from Five-HQ?’ ‘Hang on, I’ll have a look.’ Susie walked into the galley, hit the switch that lowered the comms screen, and waited as the display warmed up. Paddy met Dave’s eye in the rearview mirror and appreciated the nod of approval. Quite why the RV had a rear-view mirror with its solid, windowless rear, they hadn’t worked out, but it was there all the same. Keeping her busy seemed to help—as good a tactic as any until her referral for proper treatment for PTSD came through. ‘Bugger-all,’ Susie reported, stifling a yawn. ‘I could really do with going back to bed. Dunno what’s the matter with me.’ ‘The diving course took it out of me, too,’ Dave said. ‘And mine was years ago, before all the extra complicated shit was introduced to the test.’ Susie’s grin returned. ‘It was wicked, though. Thanks, Paddy. I still can’t believe it— two weeks ago I hadn’t even snorkelled, and now I’m an advanced open water diver. Go figure.’ ‘You’re welcome, I think we all needed that break.’ Staying out of the public eye for a fortnight hadn’t hurt his blood pressure either. Susie pulled away, stretching. ‘How much further? I need some scran.’ ‘About two minutes,’ Dave announced from the front, closing in on the exit ramp from the M1 almost as he spoke. He brought the Action Mobile Desert Challenger, —affectionately known as Fugly— up the off-ramp of the M1 motorway and into the coach parking area of Leicester Forest services. The moment they came to a halt, Susie made straight for the door. ‘Hang on a sec, don’t open that door yet,’ Paddy said, waving his hand across his face to indicate his lack of disguise. ‘I’m still public enemy number one, in case you’d forgotten that small detail. ‘No, I hadn’t forgotten, and don’t talk to me like I’m a little kid. It just slipped my mind.’ ‘Alright, calm down. I wasn’t trying to talk down to you, sweetheart—’ ‘So don’t call me “sweetheart”.’ ‘Suze, if we get identified, then it’ll be a right palaver for Chapman to make us disappear again. 

The Special Operations Executive gives us a job, a life and a wage. One of our jobs is to stay invisible in between ops. Got that?’ Susie nodded sullenly. Paddy eased his tone down a notch. ‘And we’re not safe till we’re done with the Russians.’ ‘This is bloody Leicester, Pads. We’re miles from Dorset.’ ‘Romanov has brothers and cousins all over the UK.’ Dave shrugged apologetically at her. ‘He’s right. Mess with one, mess with all.’ ‘Yeah, but as far as the world’s concerned, we’re all dead.’ ‘Last I heard, there’s still a contract out on me to the tune of two million quid. I don’t think everyone’s bought the story of us being rubbed out by the SAS.’ ‘How do you know about the bounty?’ Paddy shrugged. ‘Not every purchase for Fugly’s upgrade came with a legit invoice. You hear all sorts of things when you’re dealing with fences.’ Seeing her deflated expression, he reached over to give her ponytail a gentle tug. ‘I didn’t mean to get in your face, love. I just can’t take any chances. Need to get my face on before I go out there.’ ‘It’s fine. Just tell me when we’re good to go.’ Paddy hugged her, glad that she let him. ‘You can’t leave yet, anyway. You’ve still got your slippers on.’ ‘Shit!’ She dashed back to her cabin and changed into her new combat boots. When she returned, she seemed to have shaken off the fidgets. She took the lightweight Kevlar jacket handed to her without a murmur and strapped it on while Dave got himself ready in the lounge-diner area of the RV. ‘When are they timed to hit the place?’ Dave asked. ‘The last intel we got from Pete Chapman was for a 2am strike on the cash office. We’ve got a little over two hours.’ Paddy took a swig from his water bottle, his mouth suddenly dry. 

The idea was to give Suze a leg-stretch and return her to Fugly long before the action went down, but there were so many things that could go wrong. Like getting themselves killed while Susie was left ‘safely’ inside Fugly. Or Susie having a panic attack having been alone so long and coming to find them at just the wrong moment. Nope, best they kept her with them for now. Paddy was scared to let her out of his sight until he absolutely had to. ‘How does Chapman even know about this robbery?’ Susie asked Dave, slipping a loose jacket over her vest. ‘GCHQ probably picked it up through Prism, capturing a mobile phone conversation.’ ‘That’d be about the size of it, I reckon,’ Paddy said, pulling on his own vest. ‘Do me a favour—take Susie over to the cafeteria and I’ll join you in a minute.’ Dave moved stiffly to the door and Susie went on out first, offering a hand as he stepped down. Thanks to an Indian Summer heat wave, the heat from the tarmac blew into the RV with the breeze. 

Temperatures were still getting on for twenty-five degrees, even at the end of September. Paddy watched his mate and Susie head off, relieved they got along so well. Not even Pete Chapman had any foolproof suggestions for how they handled Susie’s needs over the coming years, so it was just as well that the three of them seemed basically compatible. Paddy opened one of the concealed gun safes and took out his Glock. He ejected the magazine, checked the load and safety, then slid it into the waist-holster secreted in the back of his jeans. A light bomber jacket went on over the top of his bullet-proof vest, effectively concealing both. He was becoming a master of speed where applying his disguise was concerned. For now, he kept the same alter-ego that he’d acquired to infiltrate and destroy Romanov’s outfit: that of Bill Arkwright, complete with brown contacts to disguise his ice blues, a scar running down his left cheek, and scruffy gingerish hair and beard. Nonetheless, he still felt wary in public. Dave’s ongoing “disguise” was as a white-collar alpha. All he had to do was maintain a fashionable beard and dress like a bloke who spent more time at the gym than in his office. It was annoyingly effective; if Lucas attracted any attention at all, it was in the form of blushes and goofy smiles, not suspicious glances. Thankfully, no photos of Susie had appeared in the media at all, but she’d done a good job of changing her image anyway, cutting and dyeing her hair in the bathroom of the redoubt. Paddy locked up Fugly, even more fuck-ugly than ever since Dave’s modifications to the shell of the air-con unit on the roof. Behind their beloved, scruffy RV stretched the trailer holding the Rover P5. Paddy was still annoyed about the short notice on this take-down operation. He’d have preferred to have stashed the car at Haven, out of sight, but they’d come here directly from a job in Cumbria where they’d needed both vehicles for separate exits. Paddy followed them to Burger King, remaining watchful for faces, exits and obstacles as he crossed the concourse. Dave would be doing the same, and he’d be glued to Susie’s side, ready to take a bullet for her if need be. Paddy couldn’t have chosen a better bodyguard for her. He saw Dave and Susie at the back of a small queue, waiting to get served. 

The place was almost deserted, just two or three tables occupied by long-distance truckers. After they’d eaten, Susie asked if she could go into the amusements arcade for a bit. Dave had finished his meal, so he led her off with a big grin on his face. ‘Susie,’ Paddy called, and waited for her to look back over her shoulder. ‘Don’t let him near the pub quiz machine or we’ll be here all night.’ ‘Okay,’ Susie called back, and giggled. Paddy shook his head, smiling ruefully. He should’ve guessed she’d be into the machines, too. His smile died quickly. Not that she had a choice, but his fifteen-year-old spitfire of a sister was growing up way too fast, and travelling around with them while they were on SOE ops was not going to help her hang onto any of the last shreds of her childhood. She still relived the abuse she’d suffered at Romanov’s and Grantham’s hands in her nightmares, sleep-walking and shouting. Chapman had suggested temporary fostering some weeks back, but there was no way they could part from Susie when her yelling threatened to reveal her true identity night after night. Nope, she was staying with them. End of. Paddy gave them twenty minutes to play, then wandered into the services phone shop. He bought three Apple iPhone watches, including a plum one for Susie. He had the sales girl set them up with an app linking all three, turning them into location finders. It was just gone half midnight. Time to get Susie back to Fugly before things kicked off, particularly since Dave had no inclination to leave the robbers alive. On their last raid, the bastards had murdered two employees at a betting shop, one of them working her last day before maternity leave. He located the gaming arcade, which was set into a little alcove a few doors down from the toilets. But there had been refurbishments. Just a few weeks ago, the arcade had opened out onto the wider concourse, like all the other little units. It was now sealed off with a stud wall between the pillars. Paddy headed for the windowed door, wondering if wondering if this change was due to some Nanny State rule about removing all life’s little pleasures from the public’s immediate eye. The government had tried doing that with cigarettes, as if hiding the fags in a cupboard made people mysteriously forget they usually smoked. He opened the arcade door, hackles already up, not liking this change of setup at all. On the one hand, a contained action made it easier for staff to evacuate the rest of the service station. On the other hand, fights in a confined space rarely ended well. As he walked over towards Susie and Dave, a feeling washed over him that something wasn’t right. The arcade was quiet... Too quiet. There were probably a half dozen people scattered around, but nobody was talking. Everyone seemed to be staring straight ahead and saying nothing. The only noise other than the bleeps and squawks of the gaming machines was the gurgle of a baby being held in the arms of a woman standing right next to Dave. Paddy walked up behind Susie, his senses on high alert. She was standing unnaturally still. His heart thumped in his chest and cold adrenaline flooded his system at the thought of her being trapped inside with them. It’s too early. Why the fuck is this happening so early? A masked man holding a pump-action 12-gauge shotgun stepped out from behind the partition separating the children’s and adult areas and stood in the gap between, covering everyone. Paddy heard a swish sound from behind as the window blind was released. A deadbolt clicked into place, locking them all in. ‘Don’t move,’ a voice shouted from behind. ‘Just stay put, and nobody gets hurt.’ Paddy picked up an East-London accent—Cockney— maybe—no hint of Russian. That didn’t mean squat, though. There had been plenty of local foot soldiers on Romanov’s payroll in Dorset. 


The man passed Paddy on the left and walked up to the change kiosk, where he pointed a pistol at the young girl behind the counter. He nodded towards the cash register. ‘Open it.’ The girl’s hands were shaking so badly it took her several attempts. ‘You,’ Cockney said to the lad by the other cash register. ‘Get that one open too.’ The boy, around twenty years old and about as jacked as a coathanger, seemed as nervous as the girl, struggling to get his register open. In the meantime, 12-gauge began emptying the young girl’s register into a hessian sack. When he was done, he laid her out with a punch, sending her crashing to the floor out in the open, away from the counter. She crashed down flat on her back with her skirt gathered around her waist. 12-gauge bent and tugged her skirt even further up, exposing her panties to all in the arcade. ‘Leave it,’ Cockney snapped. ‘Just get the money, and we can get out of here and do the pay office.’ Paddy took advantage of the brief moment both robbers were busy to turn and glance behind him. He stifled exasperation at seeing a third guy, taller and fatter than the other two, also cradling a pump-action 12-gauge. ‘You,’ the big guy barked, ‘You face to the front.’ Ah, so there’s the Russian of the crew. Paddy had barely locked eyes with the Russian when the big guy took two surprisingly spry paces forward and cracked the butt of the shotgun across Paddy’s head. His legs folded. White stars exploded and danced across his vision. Once he’d hit the floor, he blinked madly, swallowing his nausea. ‘This what happen when not do as told, now stand fuck still,’ Russian shouted at all the others. Faking a slide into unconsciousness, Paddy waited for the Russian fucker to stomp past him before slipping his hand behind and beneath his jacket. Russian turned his attention to Susie, bending to put his face close to hers. ‘Hello, beautiful.’ Recognising Susie’s pinched expression and death stare, Paddy held his breath. Not now, love. Leave this with me and Dave. Please. ‘What’s your name?’ ‘Leyla.’ She was brave enough to stay still as Russian put a hand on her breast, murmuring about her nice titties. He cradled the shotgun on his right arm, across his body, its muzzle pointing towards the counter. Paddy caught Dave’s eye the second his mate took a furtive look downwards. 

Obviously relieved to see him alert, Dave used his eyes, forefinger and thumb to indicate that he’d take care of Pistol and 12-gauge, still busy on the other side of the counter. That left Paddy to swallow his nausea, get to his feet, and handle the guy molesting Sus— A half-throttled cry made Paddy jump. Susie had streaked out her hand, going right for the Russian’s Adam’s Apple. While the perv clutched at his throat, Susie grabbed the shotgun and used it as leverage to haul the bigger man towards her so she could ram her kneecap up into his nuts. As the Russian went down, Susie snatched the gun out of his hands and fired it at 12- gauge, knocking him off his feet. The lady with the baby whimpered, turning away from the blood that had sprayed up the wall. Christ, Susie. Good girl, but just stay still now. Easy… Dead-eyed, Susie racked the shotgun, ejecting the empty case just as Cockney span around to face her. He found himself looking down the barrel of Paddy’s Glock. Cockney released his grip on his weapon, which clattered onto the floor, and raised his hands in surrender. Dave slipped behind Cockney in one sleek movement and dealt him a swift crack around the head with his gun. Cockney folded like a sodden napkin. ‘Well done, Suze,’ Dave said, making to take the shotgun from her hands. Noting she seemed to have frozen, he tugged gently. ‘Here, let me have that.’ ‘Don’t!’ Dave stepped back. ‘Girl, we need to move.’ Susie put the shotgun down on the counter and kneeled down by the gasping Russian, who was still writhing on the floor cradling his crushed nuts. ‘Just remember, sometimes girls fight back.’ She straightened up, the colour dropping out of her face. Dave got his arms around her waist just as she toppled sideways. Paddy heard sirens. 

He turned to the skinny lad, whose badge proclaimed him to be the duty manager. ‘Son, where’s the fire exit?’ The kid flicked a thumb behind him, indicating the kids’ area. ‘It’ll bring you out by the recycling bins.’ Paddy led Dave and Susie out of the building and they darted across the coach park, back to Fugly and the trailer housing the Rover P5. The sirens had stopped, but the distant car park was now awash with flashing blue lights. ‘Give me a minute,’ Paddy said, dropping the tailgate on the trailer. He fired up the Rover, reversed it clear, then put it into park before putting the tailgate back up. By the time he’d got back into the driver’s seat, Dave and Susie were already in the car. Paddy flicked the switch on the dash that rotated the diplomatic plates into place and then floored the throttle. ‘Why don’t we just take Fugly?’ Susie asked, cowering in the back. ‘Just doing a loop, love,’ Paddy said. ‘Staying out of eyeshot for a bit.’ ‘Right.’ She couldn’t sound less convinced. Paddy looked at her in the rear-view and spotted all the signs of an impending chuckup. ‘Can we stop? I feel sick.’ Thankfully, Dave was on top of things already, handing her a massive brown paper bag. He shuffled down to take the middle seat, rubbing her back as she retched until she brought up nothing but bile. 

Once she was done, Paddy saw Dave pull her to his chest, gently stroking her hair. ‘Oh don’t. I stink.’ ‘Do you want a bit of space? I can move.’ ‘You’re good,’ she groaned, leaning back into him. Paddy kept an anxious eye on her over the next few miles as he doubled back on the M1 and returned to the northbound side of the services. She was still shivering, long after the adrenaline should’ve subsided. Once he’d parked up in the darkness between two articulated lorries, he shut down the engine and turned in his seat to face them. ‘How are you feeling now, Suze?’ ‘I… I just killed someone.’ ‘If you hadn’t shot him, he could’ve panicked and shot the girl with the baby. Or— God forbid—the baby. You did really well back there.’ ‘Did I?’ She buried her head back in Dave’s chest, sobbing. Paddy turned back in his seat and left them to it. When the silence became too oppressive, he switched the radio on. They wound down with a few cheesy eighties rock anthems before the news came on with the headline story about three armed males being injured in a failed robbery attempt on the cash office at Leicester Forest Services. Armed police were on scene, and the situation was under control. He held his breath as Susie lifted her head, taking an interest. ‘Just injured?’ she asked quietly. Paddy nodded. ‘That’s what I heard, too.’ ‘Not dead. Right’. She sagged in her seat. ‘Can we go home now?’ 

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