The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comthe arrival of the two VIPs, a considerable accomplishment because allthe incoming flights were supposedly only for humanitarian aid. Baz andTosh got the Discovery gleaming clean for the visitors, no mean featgiven the sparsity of running water at the airfield and its filthystate from the overland journey up from Split. They'd also got theiruniforms cleaned up and boots polished and I too had changed into aclean shirt and jacket and tie. I was in the French operations centreat the airfield, checking with the ops officer that there were no lastminute hitches on the route up to Pale, when Jon called me up on theMotorola. `Rich, if you've got a spare moment, could you come down tothe loading bay and give us a hand dealing with the Frogs? I want toget the damaged comms-wagon on the flight back to Split, but I can'tunderstand what they are saying.'Down at the loading bay, our sad-looking vehicle was waiting to beloaded on the next Hercules, and was in the custody of a Frenchloadmaster sergeant. `C'est quoi le problŠme?' I asked. The sergeantexplained that only vehicles that could move under their own power wereallowed on to the runway, to minimise the time that the aircraft werestationary and thus vulnerable to sniper fire.`OK, I'll see if the REME can get it running again,' Jon replied assoon as I had translated.Although the vehicle's bodywork was badly damaged, the running gear wasmostly untouched and, with some attention, it might be got movingagain. `It's piston locked,' announced the grubby REME mechanic after acursory inspection. `When she went over on her back, oil from the sumpleaked past the rings into the combustion chambers. I'll have to blowthe oil out.' He removed the gloplugs from each cylinder, then askedJon to crank the engine on the starter motor. But more oil had leakedpast than even the mechanic had imagined and as the starter-motorengaged an angry geyser of black oil shot out of the cylinder head,catching him square in the face. I was not quick enough to duck eitherand my jacket, tie and shirt were splattered. `Sorry about that, sir,'grinned the REME grease-monkey, wiping his face on an old rag. No doubthe would have a laugh with his mates over a beer that evening.There was only an hour and a half until the visitors arrived, and I wasfar from presentable. Baz dashed back to the PTT building in theDiscovery to try to find me a change of clothing, but a frantic searchyielded nothing. The worst of the oil scrubbed out of my shirt withswarfega and tissue paper, but my silk tie was beyond redemption. Laterthat morning I was forced to meet the VIPs with my shirt open at theneck. It was not appropriate dress for a diplomatic meeting but themore important objective was to get the two VIPs to Pale safely andback for their return flight that evening.The meeting with Karadzic and his henchmen went smoothly enough, andthat evening with the VIPs dispatched back to Zagreb, I typed out atelegram to P4 on the portable PC. The KALEX HF radio had not yet beenswapped from the damaged comms-wagon into the replacement vehicle, soJohn manually encrypted the telegram and beamed it back to MI6'sPoundon communication centre using the satellite transmitter. An hourlater, String Vest, who must have been working at his desk late thatevening, sent me a return telegram. `Congratulations on setting up apage- 121 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com