ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold (51 page)

He turned to General Lamb.  ‘Well spit it out, everyone else has had a say.’

‘I think what you did was despicable sir.’

‘Despicable, why?’

‘Because of the effort they’ve put in to this project sir, not to mention the colossal amount of their own resources they’ve put in too.’

‘What are you talking about man?’

‘Ah!  You don’t know the full story yet do you?’

‘I don’t think I do, enlighten me.’

‘Most of the medical equipment they have, they developed or supplied themselves with.’

‘Rubbish man, didn’t you supply it?’

‘Ehm, no, I only supplied them with what I considered was reasonable.  So they went ahead with their own schemes without consulting anybody, I only found out myself this week.’

‘Have you submitted a report on the matter?’

‘Yes sir, sir, these men have taken existing technology and developed it far beyond most people’s imagination.  They have sir, a portable X-Ray machine that is far more advanced than anything I have in my own hospitals and it’s only in its earliest stages of development.  I was scheduled to spend the whole of next week with Mr. Murison helping him develop it.  Sir this machine could save hundreds, no thousands of lives in the coming conflict.’  The note of desperation in the General’s voice wasn’t lost on the Prime Minister.

‘Oh dear, how much did they spend?’

‘A little over two million I think.’

‘Two million that’s incredible.’

‘Well -.’ sobbed Samantha, ‘I keep the records of their transactions with private enterprise.  It was just over three million the last time I checked.  Although after General Pearson’s interest in the X-Ray machine I think, they’re considering going into full production.  Jim said if they did we might make a little back, he owns the copyright on the software.’

‘Why wasn’t I told about this - Andrew?’

‘I didn’t know sir.’

‘Mr. D’Ord?’

‘It’s all new to me I’m afraid, I thought Mr. Lamb was supplying the money.’

‘They didn’t think anyone cared and were sure no-one would want to put two million up for the development fees, so they didn’t bother to ask, they just went ahead and did it themselves,’ hiccupped Samantha.

‘Oh my poor dear, what have I done?’  Peter Grey sank slowly onto one of the seats.  ‘No wonder they flew off the deep end, come and sit with me Samantha.’  He handed her an old-fashioned handkerchief to dry her tears with.

‘Any advice for an old fool?’

A glimmer of hope rekindled in her eyes.  ‘You could ask him to come back.’

‘Are you frightened I might be too prideful to ask him back?’

‘Yes.’

‘Pride and politics are bad fellows my dear.  Mr. Ritchie, do you think you could catch your friends?’

‘Uh!  What for?’

‘To come back and do the job you’ve been training for.’

‘Yes taé.’  He paused at the door, ‘this isna some fancy plot to bang us á away is it?’

‘No you have my word as a Highland gentleman on that.’

Abie nodded, ‘that’ll do it,’ he dashed off.

‘Do you think he’ll come back?’

‘Why shouldn’t he?’

‘Pride, ego,’ he shrugged.

‘No he says he had them kicked out of him years ago.’  She smiled.

‘He isn’t interested in politics is he?’

‘Well he likes to know what’s happening, but doesn’t want to be a politician if that’s what you mean.’

‘Thank goodness for that.’  It brought a small smile to her face.  ‘Why don’t you go and freshen up.’  She dashed off, taking his handkerchief with her.

*

We were discussing the problem of how to transport a herd of Highland cattle to the Bahamas when Abie skidded up with the good news.  So the Bahamas were shelved for the moment but never forgotten and the billet slowly filled with brochures.  In quiet moments when talk of sex and sport had paled, we would turn to making plans for an island paradise.

We spent the rest of the afternoon standing quietly at the back of the Royal box while the Prime Minister enjoyed his football; we were relieved at five as promised. 

‘Mr. Murison, tomorrow evening at nine o’clock, my weekend residence.’  He shouted before I could disappear.

‘I’ll find it.’

‘Why aren’t ye going home?’  Buff asked outside.

‘Stuff that, the minute I’m spotted some bastard will start chapping my door down to drive taxis for a week.’

‘Don’t go into Elgin then, do some shopping here or Inverness on the way through.’

‘Nah.’ I’ve too much to do here.’

‘Then come through to Buckie for the weekend, Marie winna mind.’

‘I know she won’t but you need time with your family on your own.’

‘Jim, ye damn near are family.’

‘A right, a right, if I can get shot ó this cunt Lamb by Friday I’ll come up for the weekend.’

He cracked a big grin.  ‘Great, hey fit are ye sniffing at now?’

*

Gail’s eyes widened, he could smell her.  She had been waiting for him, but her nerves failed at the last moment.

‘You’re no wearing woman’s perfume are you?’  At the sound of a punch, she came round from behind the Frontera.  ‘Ah Miss Summers, I thought I recognised the smell.’

‘How’s that throat’, the big sergeant asked.

She was surprised he knew, but even more surprised there was no sarcasm in their voices.  Their eyes were flat and emotionless.  Somehow she felt encouraged by it.  ‘It’s getting better, thank you,’ she even managed a weak smile and took a deep breath.  ‘May I have an interview with you for my magazine?’

‘No.’

‘How about one for the daily?’

‘No.’

‘OK, fair enough, what about a loose statement then, telling the country what you’re actually doing, official spokesman say.’

He paused momentarily considering the request.  He looked at the sergeant who just shrugged.  ‘What exactly would you want to know?’

‘Why for starters?’

‘Why, I don’t really know why.  I suppose the army’s always had weird and wonderful schemes stashed away somewhere.  The thing they don’t normally have is the manpower to try them out.’

‘Now they do?’

‘That’s right and why not, it still costs the same to feed us.’

‘So what specifically is your job?’

‘Task.’

‘Sorry task.’

‘Our task has been to find out if it’s feasible to take a highly trained surgeon into a forward battle area or FBA as it is generally called in the army.  Every unit has its own doctor but they can only do so much and in wartime, they often have to do so much more.  Many men die before they reach him and sometimes after.  A doctor will often have to sacrifice the life of a more seriously wounded man to save the life of two others; we’re trying to save that extra life.’

‘So why are you armed?’

‘Because we’d be working on the front line.  Once the surgeon starts to operate on a patient neither can be moved, we need to be armed to protect both from enemy action.  We also carry in all the equipment the surgeon requires.  Then carry the patient out to safety.’

‘Any other tasks?’

‘A few one has been to see if it would be feasible to rescue badly wounded pilots from enemy territory.  Another has been to evaluate new equipment under operational conditions.  Things like the new stretcher and lightweight surgical instruments.’

‘Do you think it’s been worth it?’

‘The work we’ve been doing isn’t for us to evaluate that’s for the next generation of soldiers to decide.  I am quite sure the results we have achieved will be absorbed into the army of the future, the good will be enhanced and built upon, the bad discarded.’

‘It is well known that you have driven yourselves exceptionally hard to achieve these results.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes it is, tell me, how do you justify to yourselves the amount of training and effort you’ve put into this project for it to finish in a few weeks’ time and maybe never to be done again?’

‘I’m not really sure I understand the question Miss Summers, is there any other way of doing something.’

Buff butted in, ‘listen, one day when we were training we came across a bad accident, bit I’m sure you already ken á about it, saving those people’s lives gave each and every one of us all the justification we’ll ever need.’

‘Yes of course, thank you Sergeant George.  Do you feel the same way Lt Murison?’

‘He did say each and every one of us, or is my hearing defective?’

‘No it isn’t, yes he did, I’m sorry.’

‘No need to be sorry Miss Summers, good day.’

‘Yes thank you.’

‘Oh, before you print it, submit a copy to the war office, we are supposed to be a secret unit.’

It was a short interview but she didn’t care, she had a scoop.  ‘God I wish I could put his name to it,’ she told herself as she got into her car.  She changed discs, labelling the old and replacing it with a new one.  ‘Now where the hell is Elgin.’  She started the car and drove off.

*

‘Murison, ye canna half blether some shite.’

‘I know good aren’t I?’

‘Aye, ye almost hid me believing ye.  Fit did ye tell her á that for anyway?’

‘What’s spoken about is, what isn’t, isn’t.’

‘Eh.’

‘Politics old boy, just trying to make it a wee bit harder for the next one that comes along and try’s to disband us.’

‘Aye right, got ye.’

CHAPTER 53

By Sunday night, it was all over.  For some reason beyond me, everyone had a great time.  Abie had announced his retirement, then fucked off before anyone could grab him.  Samantha arrived; she came in and grabbed some folders from a shelf.  ‘You’ll need these,’ she stated.

‘Whit for?’

‘The Prime Minister wants to see the books.’

‘A for f-----.’

I was shown into a plush library; they were all there, Mr. D’Ord, Mr. Lamb, Andrew, plus a few others I didn’t know.  The Prime Minister looked over an old-fashioned pair of spectacles at me and held his hand out for the books, which I handed over.  ‘Take a seat; I’ll be with you in a minute.’  He opened the folders pulled out the bound books and flicked through the pages scribbling down notes.

‘Will you look at this for me Jim?’  Harry opened a briefcase and revealed a stack of binary print outs I was intrigued.

I plucked out the top sheet.  ‘Is this a programme of some type I don’t recognise the language.’  I flicked through sheet after sheet putting it back into the lid.  About five minutes later, something caught my eye.  ‘That’s funny.’

‘What is?’

‘This sequence is all wrong.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Well look at it, it’s all garbled.’  I flicked back through a few pages.  ‘It’s the right length though, but it’s all wrong.’

‘May I?’

‘Help yourself.’

I handed it back.  He checked a reference number in a notebook.  ‘You found it, congratulations.’

‘Found what?’

‘Do you know what this is?’

‘No.’

‘Venture a guess.’

I put my mind to it.  ‘Well it’s some kind of code or programme, but it isn’t in any language I know or understand.  Highly complex but with a certain simplicity, it seems to follow a natural progressive order.  Aye that’s it, a natural order.  Is it, the binary print out of a genetic code a DNA strand?’

‘Yes.’  He sat back.  ‘That’s correct.  The piece you picked out we believe to be responsible for a rare type of cancer.  Only it’s taken teams of scientists years to find it.’

‘That’s quite amazing Mr. Murison could you check these figures for me.’  Mr. Grey handed me his notebook with the figures he’d written down.  One look at the long list of figures was all it took.  My brain froze instantly.

’I shook my head to unlock it.  ‘I’m sorry; if you want that lot counted up you’ll have to do it yourself.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I can’t OK.’

‘Do I detect a flaw in your genius?’

‘I’ll tell you what!  I’ll have a go at counting that up; you see if you can find that genetic code and we’ll see who’s finished first.’

‘Point taken.’

‘Thank you.’  He worked out the sum that had made me go cockeyed in seconds.  ‘Impressive.’

‘Touché, it seems the Government owes you nearly three and a half million pounds.’

‘What for?’

‘For all of this.’

‘Forget it.’

‘Forget three and a half million pounds!’

‘Aye, why not, call it my contribution to mankind.’

He seemed a bit taken aback.  ‘That’s very generous of you, are you sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Sorted.’

‘Let’s move on then, from now on you’ll be funded completely from Mr. Lambs office, agreed?’

‘Don’t know, what happens if I think I need something and he doesn’t?’

‘I am sure he will look into everything thoroughly first before he makes that kind of decision.’

‘Not good enough, I’ll tell you what, if I’ve got the time, I’ll do that if not, I’ll get it myself.  If it works and he approves, he can reimburse me, if it flops, I’ll take the fall myself.  How’s that?’

‘Mr. Lamb?’

‘I can live with that sir.’

‘Good, now is there anything else we can help you with?’

‘Would you be able to replace our carrying containers with that new plastic you’ve got, it is bullet proof, isn’t it?’

‘Yes it is, but why do you want it?’

‘If you consider that when we do come into contact with the enemy and we’re carrying a patient then nine times out of ten we’re going to be running away, it would afford us a little extra protection.’

‘Yes that makes sense anything else?’

‘Aye weapons.’  I told them the weapons I wanted access to and found I had to justify everything with an explanation, which needless to say began to irritate me.

It was noticed.  ‘Patience Mr. Murison, patience, we’ll soon be finished,’ Mr. Grey warned.

Refreshments were brought in and I was grateful for the break.

‘Is there anything else?’

‘Only one, so far in training we’ve only been offered the services of unarmed or medical helicopters, I want reassurance that will change with commencement of hostilities.’

‘Why?’  I bit my tongue and launched into another detailed explanation.  ‘Well Mr. Murison I find all your requests perfectly reasonable, apart from your containers, there’s nothing we can’t supply you with from existing stock.  Mr. Ross I want those containers on priority.’

A big friendly man half stood.  ‘Yes sir.’  Then sat again.

‘Now what are we going to do about you?’

‘I presume you mean if I fall into enemy hands?’

‘Yes if you’re dead, then you’re dead and no threat to anyone are you?’

‘Point taken, I’ll tell you what; I’ll make it easy for you.  You’re bound to have a stockpile of big fancy rockets somewhere?’

‘One or two.’

‘Fine, then it won’t be hard to plant some kind of homing device under my skin somewhere.  If I’m captured and they find out who I am I’ll activate it.’

He searched my face with those eyes of steel, but found no guile.  ‘I think we could manage that.’

‘One thing though, I will inform the rest of my team about this.’

‘Why?’

‘Because one or more might be with me, I don’t mind killing myself, but I don’t see why I should take any of them with me without their knowledge or consent.’  I don’t think he liked it, but I wasn’t going to argue about this and it must have been fairly obvious.

‘I don’t like that idea at all,’ Mr. D’Ord voiced his concern.  The two Generals backed him.

‘I don’t think we have any choice in the matter do you Mr. Murison?’

‘None.’

‘Sorted.’

He folded up his papers and packed away our accounts books.  ‘Now on a lighter note, we commissioned these for your unit, I hope you like them.’  He handed me a piece of cloth that almost filled my hand, it was a shield with a coat of arms.  The shield was black bisected by a red cross.  In the top left quadrant were a set of crossed rifles embroidered in red, on the right a helicopter, the bottom right an assault boat, bottom left bore a Special Forces dagger.  Across the centre embroidered in black was the legend ACV’s.

‘It’s well smart.’

‘You like it, I designed it myself.’

‘Yes I do.  What the hell does ACV’S stand for?’

He laughed.  ‘Armed Casualty Evacuation.  I used the V rather than the E in evacuation; that would have spelt ACE, a little too…’

‘Aye, the RAF boys might have got a little miffed if we army bods nicked some of their lingo.’

‘Exactly.  Now give it back that one’s mine yours will be delivered soon.’

‘Most excellent what arm?’

‘Please yourselves, now how are you at air and sea ops?’

‘Well, we’ve all served in an airmobile role; we’ve also done a fair bit of river patrolling in assault craft, though a little revision wouldn’t go amiss.’

He nodded to one of the nameless men, then handed me my books.  ‘Thank you for your time Mr. Murison, Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight sir.’

‘Wait for me Murison.’  Mr. D’Ord asked as I left.

‘OK, I’ll be at the motor.’

*

‘So gentlemen, what do you think of our Mr. Murison?’

General Morris of the Royal Marines managed to get his pitch in first.  ‘I could certainly do with his help on the first phase sir.  It wouldn’t do any harm for my men to know there was a good Neurosurgeon only a phone call away.’

Mr. Ross cleared his throat, ‘That was a serious display of genius Mr. Lamb put on for us; it would be a damn waste to lose him on operations.’

‘I already tried to pull him off operations and faced a mutiny, the details of which I have no intentions of relating here.  You are correct, although there does seem to be some serious flaws in his intellect.’

‘That isn’t unusual for persons with forms of dyslexia sir, you’ll often find their lack of ability in some areas is often tripled in others, it’s almost like some kind of payoff and shouldn’t be considered as a flaw,’ the army’s top physiatrist countered.

‘I’ll have to admit it isn’t something I’m too familiar with James, but what I want to know from you is will he take his own life if he has to?’

‘I can answer that question for you sir.’

‘No you won’t Mr. D’Ord.  James.’

‘To answer that question properly I would have to study him for years, but from what you’ve given me and now after meeting him, I’d say yes, yes.’

‘Mr. D’Ord, have you anything to add to that?’

‘Yes sir, I know Murison, there’s a high likelihood he would wait until he was with someone worth killing before triggering the device.’

‘James?’

‘Mr. D’Ord’s made a good point sir, I would concur with that.’

‘So we trust him, no backup plan?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Good, you’re a big boy now Mr. D’Ord don’t look so shocked.’

‘I’m sorry sir.’

‘David have you any comments?’

‘No sir, my men are already well acquainted with the new unit.’

‘Yeah I heard they got the pants thrashed off them.’

The commander of the SAS glowered at the commander of the Royal Marines.  ‘I’d like to see your lot try and handle them.’

‘Gentlemen please.’

*

It took half an hour for Mr. D’Ord to appear.  He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh nothing.  Could you drop me off at home, fancy a coffee?’

The magic words, I met his wife again; she was as beautiful and graceful as I’d remembered.  We talked into the wee hours, the presence of a lady keeping the conversation clean.  It seemed the idea of immigrating to the Bahamas had caught on

A bigger surprise awaited me when I got home; Samantha was still there. She had curled up on a sofa with Boy to watch telly and had fallen fast asleep.  I placed a blanket over them.  Boy seemed well content to stay where he was.