Any Means Necessary. Shane Britten

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СКАЧАТЬ worked for the government. It was evident Tuso already had some inside knowledge on the kid, whose poor tradecraft had put himself in the spotlight. Still, on the off chance the group posed a physical danger to him, I wanted to warn him off, if such a thing were possible. I thought it far more likely that he would attempt to arrest me or something equally foolish.

      It took some time for me to get back to my seat, with attendees wanting to talk to the man who got one-on-one time with the head WOLF. I dutifully paid attention for the next couple of hours, interspersed with plenty of breaks where attendees were broken into small groups and profiled by the WOLF members. It was an incredibly professional methodology, seamless and invisible to the untrained eye. I was left with the strong impression that whoever designed the conference had a background in one of the intelligence agencies, which used a similar method for talent spotting during routine recruitment exercises. The notes being taken on each attendee were detailed and grew even more so throughout the day. I couldn’t help but be curious as to what mine would say.

      There was still no sign of Morgan as the day progressed. I thought momentarily about calling Helen or even the ASIO switchboard, to give them a warning or suggestion that one of their officers may have been injured. Ultimately though, it was their responsibility and I assumed any help I attempted to offer Helen would be met with hostility. It would only be fair given how I’d treated her at our last meeting.

      Content remained light-on throughout the day, with a lot of political posturing and bold claims of success but little in the way of anything but anecdotal evidence. I noticed Tuso watching me more than once. On one occasion, he was joined by a remarkably muscled, broad-shouldered woman who perfectly fitted the term hawkish, all intensity and purpose. The Hawk, as I decided to name her, looked at me with all the suspicion of a trained counter-intelligence operator, her dark eyes narrowed as she fixed me with a steady gaze. She wore a man’s suit and it fit her well, her hair cropped short in a military fashion that suited her smooth, attractive features. She had olive skin that suggested Middle Eastern origin, which I found odd given the narrative of the group. I made a note to not take her too lightly. There was something vaguely familiar about her and I held back on the temptation to snap a photo, worried at just how provocative that move would be. Every now and then the Hawk would direct one of the suited security operators in the room, distinctive due to their earpieces and matching dark suits and ties. They seemed to be mostly selected for their size rather than intelligence. Good if I was going to play chess against them, bad if it ended in a physical encounter.

      Those present seemed largely on board with the event, with only a handful of the 100 or so attendees leaving before the conclusion. A lot of the final session encouraged contact with the local WOLF members, regular meetings and commitment. Forms were passed around and filled out with pledges of that commitment. I noted multiple people reaching for credit cards. Financial commitment too, then.

      The day concluded much later than advertised. It was 1600hrs by the time I walked out of the auditorium and I was exhausted. Many of the attendees loitered in the auditorium, talking in small groups or waiting for one of the WOLF members to join them to talk more about the group, its plans and where to from here. I thought about staying to see if I could draw any information from the members who seemed to ignore me altogether, but ultimately decided to leave.

      Movies often portrayed surveillance detection as a lot of looking over your shoulder, then breaking into a run to avoid surveillance operators. In truth, counter-surveillance was a sophisticated piece of tradecraft that was very difficult to master. The last thing I wanted to do was flag to the WOLF members that I was a trained intelligence operator.

      At the second choke point in my return surveillance detection route, three individuals appeared that had been present at the first. The third choke point, a quick turn located within the Myer Centre that was central to the Queen Street Mall, confirmed I was being followed as all three followers came through. They seemed to only number three, dressed in suits with earpieces that immediately made me assume they worked for the Hawk despite the black rather than white shirts. I hadn’t seen these individuals during the day but it was an otherwise almost identical outfit and they were all burly, muscled men who looked like security guards. This was no professional team too, as no surveillance operator would wear earpieces or the same clothes as each other. They certainly didn’t all pass-through choke points, heads pivoting from side to side like carrion birds seeking their next meal.

      That left me with a dilemma. Should I take them back to my hotel, showing them where I was staying? Or try to lose them, potentially showing I may be a threat, more trained and aware than they or their boss may have realised.

      I passed out of the Myer Centre and was walking up the Queen Street Mall when the choice was made for me. As I passed the exit from the underground bus exchange, a huge amount of kids emerged, talking, joking and laughing. They immediately and unintentionally separated me from my pursuers and it was so fast and so natural that even the most paranoid surveillance operator wouldn’t suspect I was attempting to lose them.

      I was gone before the crowd dispersed.

      CHAPTER 8

      A couple of hours later and I stepped back into the foyer of the Four Points Hotel, dressed in one of my finest Zegna suits and shirts. A dark tie and plain, dark cufflinks, together with my black Ecco boots. Appearance, dear boy … yeah, thanks Philip. I decided over-dressing would be better than under-dressing, showing I took the meeting with Tuso seriously.

      I debated long and hard whether I needed weapons, on the slim chance my targets were present and it became an evening of snatch and grab. I was confident with my hand-to-hand skills against most people, but the Hawk had shown she had a substantial number of security operators and I didn’t want to risk a confrontation, especially with uncooperative targets.

      In the end, I opted to change the case on my ghosted iPhone to one with an inbuilt taser. It was a marvellous tool I’d picked up in Hong Kong. It looked like a perfectly normal case, but flick a small switch and it sent 50,000 volts into whatever the top of the phone touched. Less reliable than my contact taser, it was nevertheless a tool that had saved me any number of times from situations that could have ended poorly.

      It wasn’t Tuso that met me in the lobby, but the Hawk, who looked as happy to see me as her team would have been to lose me. For a moment, she simply stood and stared at me, and I couldn’t help but notice she was an inch or two taller than me. ‘Pat down,’ she said with an accent that sounded Israeli. Her tall form reached out for a superficial review of my body. She felt my phone in my pocket and gestured at it, having me remove it to show her, followed by my wallet.

      ‘Phone off.’ She strode to the elevator on ridiculously strong-looking, long legs. A talker, then.

      We rode the elevator in the same sullen silence as my last accompanied elevator ride, arriving at the Sazerac Bar on the 30^th floor. I immediately liked it, and not just because Sazerac Rye was a fantastic whiskey. The bar was dark, with a spectacular view of the city and Brisbane River, soft jazz music playing. The bar was a series of small booths along the windows, more traditional tables in the middle and a large, rectangular bar along the wall opposite the view. The Hawk paused at one of the booths which my sharp eyes had picked out and struggled to contain the body language effect of what I saw. In the booth were Tuso and none other than Helen Newton. I gave her a blank stare and she was less able to contain her surprise at seeing me, Tuso and the Hawk both watching us closely. Tuso broke the silence, ‘We’re done here.’ A gesture of his hand dismissed Helen as if she were his subordinate.

      Helen attempted to retain her composure while rising and considering whether to say something before leaving. In the end, she refused to look at me and was escorted by the Hawk to the elevator. At least both of them were out of my immediate presence.

      Tuso gestured for СКАЧАТЬ