The Oxford Code by Ray Christie
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 2.8 MB
Special Air Service operator Jack and his regiment brothers in arms had their black operations comprised with deadly consequences, the Secret Intelligence Service led them to the wolves.
Rogue elements from the British, French and Russian agencies deploy their assets to track and eliminate the unit before their government secrets are exposed. Military techniques, clandestine wetwork and tradecraft are exposed as the body count rises throughout the streets of Europe.
Evading death they scramble through the dead to find a lead. The operators with nowhere to run and innocent lives lost forces them back towards the dangers to search for the puppet master in this wilderness of mirrors.
No witnesses, no survivors, the mission is set, these gentlemen of death will stop at nothing to protect their honour, and fight for justice.
Jack’s heart never pumps this fast in situations previously, he supposes it is compensating for the blood loss which has made a spotted trail over the past few kilometres, or the fact that he was rumbled. Distance and time were the last details he viewed on google maps before unceremoniously dispatching his iPhone into the river Thames. Will the dew be strong enough to dilute that trail! He will have to hope so, the choice for Jack not to undress, clean himself and find new clothes can be delayed for now. Making such changes take time and he cannot afford sloppiness, not now.
The milk rounds should be due soon, looking up Jack observes the blackness of the sky, buildings faintly illuminated with the weak glow of streetlights. Someone will be without their milk this morning as they will have undecidedly shouted Jack’s breakfast. Getting liquids into his body should improve his cognitive state, also removing the partially dissolved Italian coffee granules which linger with every breath. The remaining single serve coffee sachets, that Jack carries with him, can be mixed in the milk soon, a more sophisticated method of staying alert. Swallowing contents of a coffee sachet is an old tactic that Jack discovered when laying for hours behind a sniper scope. This will keep himself focused and awake for the next few hours, giving enough time to get answers and to get out of the country.
A sitrep shows a complex maze of quiet inner-city streets, occasional blurry eyed shift workers coming and going and an unconcerned fox going about its early morning raids. Bunkered down behind a low wall on a soggy garden in a row of terrace houses is Jacks cover for now. Crimsworth Road, is within a stone’s throw of Vauxhall where he began his covert operation two days ago, doubling back via Westminster to give those in the transit van the slip. The occupants of such were an unwelcomed addition to the team, plan A, B and C all went up in smoke once that team arrived. Their identities are yet to be established. Although all that could be said of them is that they are well trained and operated with great speed.
A high number of first responders’ vehicles trawling the streets looking for work would take too much of an interest in Jacks current state. ‘People are just too caring nowadays, bleeding men moving with speed through a city should be left to their own devices’ thought Jack. ‘Darwin’s law of natural selection should be allowed to flourish in certain circumstances.’
A quick personal physical assessment shows a penetration of the Gluteus Maximus. Stabbed deeply in the ass makes him feel stupid, deciding to call it his upper thigh he considers it quite problematic. The blood flow has at least stopped unless he keeps rubbing and squeezing it too much. He decides to leave it alone for now as he realises the extend of the damage. From experience Jack knows it will take about five days for new tissue re-growth to commence, however this is not a worry for him at this point, for now and most importantly the blood platelets have gathered to plug the hole.