The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.com`Oh I say, just a spot of fraud,' Craggs mimicked an upper-class accentfor his audience. `What did you get then?' he asked, still suspicious.`Eighteen months,' replied Michaels cautiously.`Only 18 months! That's a bleedin' touch that is, a shit and a shave,'Craggs jeered. `So how much did ya nick then?' he asked.`The judge said that it amounted to about œ600,000 in total, over aboutten years or so,' Michaels nervously replied.Craggs frowned, as his brain made a quick calculation. `Wot, youswagged six hundred bleedin' grand, and you only got 18 month?'Michaels looked at the floor and fidgeted uncomfortably with his watch.`I only swagged five bleedin' grand and got 15 years!' exclaimed Craggsindignantly.`Aye, but you did shoot the bank manager while you were at it,' Onionheadbutted in helpfully.But Craggs was unrepentant. `Six `undred bleedin' grand, and only 18bleedin' month,' he repeated wistfully. `Fuck me, that's what I'mgettin' into when I'm out o' here. I'll go into fraud. That's gotta bethe answer, heh,' he nudged Onion-head jubilantly in the ribs, pleasedwith his new idea. `Yeah, that's wot I'll do,' he repeatedoptimistically, pleased with his brainwave. But a frown slowly crumpledhis scarred face, as a dark cloud loomed. `Fuck, if only I could read`n' fuckin' write.'Most of the other prisoners on my spur and the neighbouring spur withwhom we shared our hour in the exercise yard knew me because of themedia coverage and it was not unusual for a complete stranger toapproach me to express his disgust that I was in prison for writing abook. They also sought my perceived expertise in case it might proveuseful in the future, erroneously assuming that I would be an expert onfirearms, have an insider's knowledge of the workings of every obscuredepartment of the police or customs service and a solid grounding incriminal law. My hour in the exercise yard, where it was possible totalk out of earshot of the screws, was dominated with questions like,`What's better, an Uzi or a Heckler & Koch?', `Can SMS messages betweenmobile phones be intercepted?' and `How do you spot policesurveillance?' The questions broke the ice, enabling me to quiz mycolleagues about their own crimes, and gradually the exercise hoursevolved into informal symposia on criminal tradecraft. They taught mehow to ring cars, where to buy false passports, how to slip out of theUK without documents and the best countries in which to evade recaptureand extradition.Another popular topic of conversation was the relative merits of oneprison over another. By universal consensus, Belmarsh was the worstprison anyone had experienced; the lack of freedom and associationirksome even to the career criminals. The acknowledged jail connoisseurwas Ronnie, a cockney who had been in so many foreign jails that hespoke fluent rhyming slang in several languages. His last stretch hadbeen in a Monaco jail. One afternoon, queuing for dinner with Dobsonand Onion-head, he told us how he ended up there. He had just come bypage- 181 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com