Chapter 1 The Protagonists

He knew he had been tied up for some hours in this cellar. It was cold and dark, but he could make

out rows of bottles in arched alcoves. He was trying to figure out how long he had been there,

when suddenly he heard voices and footsteps on the staircase. The lights were suddenly switched

on and he heard footsteps as a group of men approached him. At first Mike Sanders could not see

their faces clearly. However he knew who they were. “I guess this is the end”, he thought, “but it

probably won’t be immediately”. He counted five people, presumably all members of the St Peters

Mafia family he had been doggedly pursuing for many months, much to their displeasure.

As his vision improved he focussed on a face he had seen before under quite different

circumstances. This figure was in his late fifties, tall with grey hair mixed with traces of its

original black. He wore thick horned rimmed tinted spectacles, which partly hid his cold pale grey

eyes. Despite his formidable stature, he had the appearance of a professor or doctor as his name

suggested. Dr Chekov was no ordinary doctor; on the contrary he was the most feared Mafya

executioner. Recently he had been his main adversary and Mike Sander’s had got the better of him

on their previous encounters. The first time they confronted each other Mike Sander’s thought he

had killed him. After all he had shot him in the middle of the chest at close range. When they

confronted each other again later, he presumed he had been wearing a bulletproof vest the first

time. Now the odds were reversed. He was bound by the hands and feet with four armed

adversaries looking on.

The moment had come; a tall thin faced man with dark hair, a long hooked nose and cold grey

eyes nodded to, Dr Chekhov, who had just prepared a large hypodermic syringe filled with some

venomous looking dark green fluid. He knew this man was the Mafya leader. The latter put is face

close to his and said: ‘Mr Sanders, the stuff we are going to inject into you has an interesting

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effect. It gets you to freely answer our questions at first. Unfortunately after a while the pain you

experience and your screams makes further questioning pointless. After this you die, usually from

heart failure coupled with a brain haemorrhage. If you want to avoid this way of dying I

recommend you agree to tell me all you knew know and you tell me now’. Mike Sanders

answered with sad expression on his face, ‘please don’t take me for a fool, even if you think I am

a coward. We both know you are going to do it anyway.’ ‘Have it your way.’ Was the reply from

the other, who at the same time nodded to the man holding the syringe.

He found himself going into a cold sweat as the fear rose in him. Dr Chekov had inserted the

needle into one of the arteries in his arm and was injecting slowly the fluid into him, starting

almost immediately an irreversible reaction in him. He was now screaming.

Suddenly he awoke with sweat running down his face. “God damn it”, he exclaimed out loud as

he realised he was having the same nightmare again. “When will these bloody nightmares stop?”

He then briefly reflected over his escape from death at the hands of the Russian Mafya two years

previously. This was one of many near encounters with death he had had over the years of active

field work for MI6, but for some reason it would not stop haunting him. He considered himself a

born warrior and death was something one had always reckon with. In the past during his active

time in the field, death never preoccupied him. However this last escape from death, a close call,

seemed to play on his mind and would not leave him in peace. He wondered if this was due his

retirement from active duty, like solders returning from the front. Some never get over their

experiences and the older they get the more troubled by them they become. His thoughts then turn

to Heidi Klusman, the German woman he loved. She was due to join him on the weekend. He

would pick her up at Glasgow airport after she flew from Frankfurt. They both shared that Russian

venture and got out with their lives, which could not be said for the Mafya and Dr Chekov. He felt

this time he would tell her about the nightmares, even though it would embarrass him to do so.

Heidi Klusman was an attractive Scandinavian or north German looking women in her early

forties, with her long straight fair hair, high cheek bones and tall slim figure. They were both very

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much in love with each other; however marriage was not an option, at least at the moment. Instead

they continued living their respective lives, not getting in each other’s way, but sharing the odd

weekend together, whenever they were able. She was a German investigative journalist, who had

worked in the past for the BND, the Germany counterpart to MI6 or the CIA.

He decided to get up and prepare for his days work. It was six in the morning. He went to the

bathroom and washed the sleep out of his eyes. Apart from the somewhat tired look in his face

after another disturbed sleep, he still looked young for his age. He had just turned fifty and kept

himself in good condition. Since his days in active field work, he had grown a beard, which was

brown matching his sandy coloured hair and green eyes. Although he was not a Scotchman by

birth he looked very much like one , which was presumably due to his grandparents, who came

from the south east highlands near Perth. He was, to those he knew him, an attractive looking man

of average height and athletic stature and times with quite a sense of humour and wit, going back

to his days in the Cambridge amateur drama society. He had not lost this during his service in the

SAS and MI6, even when the going got tough

After finishing in the bathroom he went into the large bedroom of his cosy hundred year old Celtic

styled granite stone walled cottage, consisting of a ground and attic floor, typical for this part of

the highlands. He put on his tracksuit and went down the stairs to a large front room with dining

area and kitchen. The ashes in the large open log fire place were still smouldering. He went over

to the fridge and poured out some juice and drank it, while staring out of his kitchen window at the

early morning moonlit mountain slopes behind his house. He would have some breakfast later at

Donan Castle, where he worked.

He enjoyed his eight mile jog from his cottage on the slopes above the village of Dornie to the

remote highland castle, where he worked part time as a survival trainer for her majesty’s secret

service. This particular morning he could see the mist rising off Loch Long. Mike had moved to

the Five Sisters of Kintail in North West Highlands of Scotland when he went into semi retirement

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from MI6. At the time he had argued to himself he had enough close calls, particularly during his

last mission. As he jogged along a highland path he could see the Cuillin of Skye in the distance

across Loch Alsh. The gentle but fairly steep slopes were speckled with grey and brown patches at

this time of the year. However there were also patches of winter heather, which looked particularly

attractive when caught by the morning sun as it arose over the mountains later in the morning. At

this time a full moon provided enough light for him to see where he was going and the landscape

around him. He stopped for a moment and turned and stared at the head of Loch Duich towards

the dramatic Five Sisters, a remote rugged Highland mountain range. Since settling in the area, he

often went trekking up there with Heidi Klusman.

He thought for moment about the phone call he had with her last night. She was ringing from her

flat in downtown Frankfurt. “I wonder what her new assignment in China was about. Presumably

it’s some relatively harmless industrial spying investigation. I guess I will have to wait until she

tells me about it when she arrives.”

* * * * *

A week earlier on a bright late February morning it was bitterly cold and was made worst by the

wind blowing down from Siberia and the Mongolian steps. Li Zhi-fu was in his office on the top

floor of the Ministry of Defence on Diamendong, overlooking the Forbidden City and Beihai

Lake. It was still relatively early and the sun had just risen over the city, when the only other

person on this floor of the building, his assistant Chu Wei, entered the room carrying a folder.

He was standing by the window staring out at the view of the imperial palace, as he often did,

while he was deep in thought. Li Zhi-fu was tall well built powerful man, with an impressive long

face and penetrating large eyes. At the age of forty-five he was unusually young for a high-ranking

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member of the government and member of the central committee. For this he could thank his now

retired father, Li Fang Wen, who was very close to Mao Tse-tung at one time and who also held a

key position in the central committee for many years.

His assistant interrupted his train of thought. ‘Minister Li I have the notes you made for the

meeting.’ In contrast to his formidable stature, she was a small petit attractive woman in her early

forties, with an intelligent Manchu face. Her long hair was packed neatly into a bun at the back.

She dressed more like a modern western Chinese woman, unlike other women employees in the

building.

Although his office was in the Ministry of Defence, Li Zhi-fu was in fact in charge of part of the

Ministry of Science and Technology devoted to military research. His colleague, the minister of

Science and Technology was more affiliated to the Ministry of Education However because of the

sensitive nature of the activities of Li Zhi-fu’s ministry it had been placed under the auspices of

the Defence Ministry and he had the status of a junior minister.

He turned to face her, gave her an almost undetectable smile and beckoned her to seat herself in

the chair opposite him.

‘Have our Korean comrades confirmed their participation?’ ‘Yes I will meet them at the airport

and bring them directly to the ministry. I have reserved their rooms in the Century hotel Beijing,

which is General Kim’s preference. ‘Have you summoned our Chinese comrades from the border

police to the meeting?’ ‘Yes and they have also confirmed.’

Li Zhi-fu thoughts drifted to his cousin twice removed, General Kim Yong and the latter’s special

relationship with his secretary over the years. “I can see what he sees in her, especially when she

presents herself like she does today. I expect he has also a good looking female assistant.

Fortunately my wife is even more attractive; otherwise I might be tempted myself. Their

relationship was strictly a working one, although she was single and always dressed in a way that

emphasise her good looks, with her tight fitting dresses. She was in fact married to her job and

enjoyed in particular looking after the countless important visitors who had meetings with her

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boss, in particular the foreigners. Once in a while she had a short adventure with one or other of

the visitors. Li Zhi-fu knew about this and did not make anything out of it. In fact he encouraged

her. He once said to her, ‘you never know what useful information you might obtain during one of

your nightly escapades.’

On one such occasion she entertained an American official from the Pentagon, who could not

resist the chance of flirting with her. The night they spent together was very revealing. She found

out he had a soft spot for exotic bed activities, which later came in very useful, in winning him

over as a useful adviser, direct out of the heart of the Pentagon so to speak, albeit strictly

unofficial. He was married to a very strict Presbyterian lady from Boston. On Subsequent visits he

got to know the night life of Beijing, with the help of contacts arranged by Madam Wei, as he

called her.

Li Zhi-fu browsed through the notes she gave him, which he had prepared some weeks before.

Then without looking up he began to dictate the agenda. Chui Wei had her note block and pencil

ready and was waiting for him to start. ‘First item: Status of illegal cross border movement;

second item: Effect of temporary closing down of SSS; third item: Case for making improvements

let’s conclude with: Decisions’. The meeting was to take place the following week on Tuesday

morning at eleven and the attendance included General Kim from North Korea and senior

representatives of the border police on both sides of the border. Li Zhi-fu reflected on how

successful their new border crossing detection system was, which utilised a satellite infrared video

monitoring system. As an experiment it had been used to monitor North Korean refugees trying to

cross the border into China at night and it appeared to be very effective, but alas very expensive to

run. They called it the Satellite Surveillance system, SSS for short, and it was set up to monitor

any movement of troops or vehicles across a border or a virtual line using the newly installed

Chinese GPS system. The heat emitted by moving objects produce infrared images captured by

the video cameras in three satellites, set up to monitor a particular area called the observation

window. Images with a selected profile would be filtered out and correlated between the three

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satellites. This would give their exact position and the trajectory they were taking. However he

had in mind strategically more import uses for it, which had to be urgently tried out. This system

was developed by one of the research institutes under his jurisdiction, essentially for military

purposes, however at General Kim’s suggestion Li Zhi-fu agreed to use it to detect illegal

movement of people across the remote North Korean- Chinese border. This he considered a

valuable trial of the system. Most asylum seekers in recent years had been captured and sent back

to face an uncertain and not very pleasant future. Further the Korean border police had captured

key members of the organisation behind this smuggling operation. In recent months the illegal

cross border traffic had ground to a halt.

The official reason for the meeting was to see if the system could be closed for a year or so, in

ordered to put the funds and work effort to better use in making modifications and improvements,

as well as developing it for other applications.

When he finished he asked her to fax the agenda direct to General Kim with copies to the

commanders of the border police on both sides of the North Korean border.

* * * * *

Mike Sanders was coming to the end of his jog to the castle, which was perched on a small island

close to the shores of Loch Long. It could be reached by an old stone bridge. As he approached, he

started to think about the work he had planned for the day. He had been training two recruits for

fieldwork for MI6 in Afghanistan. He knew it would be very precarious work and their survival

would depend on the skills they were learning at the castle. Somehow he felt responsible for their

future. Today he would take them through another escape routine with the help of some friendly

mujahidin soldiers from Hindu Kush district of Afghanistan, who would be playing the role of

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Taliban fighters, sheltering with a local Putani chieftain, friendly to the Taliban. Money buys a lot

of friendship in that area and the El Qaeda, allies of the Taliban, still had plenty of it. Mike

thought to himself, that this kind of training really should be done in Afghanistan to be really

effective, but he had no intention of going there. However the rugged mountain countryside of the

Five Sisters at this time of the year provided an environment not totally unlike that of the Hindu

Kush. The two trainees, John Sebastian and Naeem Fiazudin, both university graduates and ex

SAS officers, had shown remarkable ability up to now, which gave him confidence they would

succeed as MI6 undercover field agents in very dangerous times. He was not so sure about

previous trainees like one Roger Jones, who was now in active service.

As he approached the bridge connecting the castle to the shore, he stopped and stared at the view

in moonlight. “Pity Heidi was not here to share this”, he thought as he appreciated the sheer

beauty of the castle with its granite walls and turret overlooking the water, combined with the

reflection of the early morning full moon in the water

He crossed the small stone arched bridge to the castle and jogged up to the main entrance hardly

out of breath after running for over an hour and a half. He entered the main door to the castle,

which led into a central hall with its large stair case at the back, above which was a gallery. The

walls were covered with wooden panels ornamented with weapons, shields and paintings of

previous occupants mainly from the local Clan Chieftains. On one side was a large open fire place,

which was still burning. Mike made his way to this in order to warm himself. He was greeted by

one sergeant Gordon, who had just entered the hall from one of the rooms leading off to the

kitchen area. ‘Good morning Mike, enjoy your jog.’ ‘Yes thanks, the view in the moon light was

magnificent.’ ‘Breakfast will be ready in half an hour; there is some warm tea on the table over

there as usual.’ ‘Thanks. Are the trainees already up?’ ‘Yes they have been in the gym for an

hour.’

After drinking a mug of tea Mike went to the changing room and took a shower and changed his

cloths. This was followed by breakfast in the large dining room, which one entered from the main

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hall. The two trainees were already sitting there with colonel Mac Alistair, who ran the castle

training centre for the SAS and MI6. He was a lively personality with sandy hair and a moustache

in his early fifties. ‘Hallo Mike, ready to take these two through their final paces?’ ‘Yes I hope

they will enjoy their last exercise. We just want to see if they can do some fast trekking up in the

Sisters.’ ‘I wonder if that is all’, said Mac Alistair sceptically. Both trainees were in their early

thirties and looked fit. John Sebastian was a tall athletic dark hair man, with brown eyes and a

roman nose, while the other, Naeem Fiazudin, was a somewhat smaller handsome man of

Pakistani origin. Breakfast was always used to talk briefly about their experiences the previous

day and lasted half an hour. Afterwards they went upstairs to their rooms to change into battle

fatigues. At eight they joined Mike in a back room on the first floor, used for briefings. It had a

map of the area on the wall. John Sebastian was the livelier of the two and tended to ask a lot of

questions, while the other was not one to talk much, which was also good for his intended kind of

work. After some small talk and jokes Mike Sanders began the briefing, using the maps of the

mountains and hills in the area. The two trainees would be asked to go on a remote route in the

Five Sisters to a particular spot fixed by its GPS coordinates, where they were to meet him. What

he did not tell them was they would be intercepted by acting Taliban fighters and would face

certain torture and death. In such an event their task was to escape before they reached the Taliban

stronghold or hideout. To makes things as realistic as possible they would not meet or know of the

existence of the mujahidin officers beforehand. In fact he had not even told them that they would

be intercepted. However they had already gone through theoretically how they might escape in

such a situation, particular if they were paired up. The participants had paint guns, used by the

American marines in close combat exercises and a positive result would be escaping with no fatal

paint marks on their clothing. If they actually managed to arrive at the rendezvous point within

one hour of the planned meeting time, then that would be counted an extra success. He was

excited about the outcome.

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At the end John Sebastian said, ‘it looks to me like a country stroll, I can’t imagine any surprises

up there.’ Mike answered, ‘it is an outdoor training exercise, so we surely have something up there

to keep you occupied and of course you are not supposed to know in advance what it is. However

you’re training here and earlier in the SAS, should help you cope with most situations. If you are

unable you always know where that will end. It comes under the heading occupational risks in

your contract.’

A helicopter was flown in to pick them up and fly them to a remote spot high up in the Five

Sisters. After dropping them off, Mike was flown to the rendezvous point some five miles away.

Their adversaries had been flown into the area earlier in the morning from an air force base near

Glasgow.

The two trainees orientated themselves with the handheld GPS they were carrying and headed off

along a foot path in the direction of a small peak some three miles away, which was surrounded by

large boulders. It was damp, cold and windy and the area they were in was desolate and not very

inviting with a thin murky greenish brown grass on either side of the path. Nevertheless the view

of the rocky range of peaks making up the Five Sisters of Kintail was spectacular even at this time

of the year.

After an hour they reached the peak they were heading from, which they reckoned to be about two

miles before rendezvous point. As they approached a bend in the path, Naeem Fiazudin became

aware of a movement in the shadow behind a boulder. However before he could investigate or

warn his partner, two figures dress like Afghani Mujahidin stepped out from behind a large rock

behind them pointing guns at them. They turned and stood there motionless as they stared at their

adversaries for a moment. Then another one came up behind them and removed their weapons and

belongings, including the handheld GPS. After that they were manhandled and their hands tied

with nylon strips behind their backs. Their captors did not say anything to them and only spoke a

few words to each other. They were push off along another path leading away from their intended

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