Mckenna The Unwanted

Sean Fagan Book 3
1. Auflage 2022
ISBN: 978-3-98756-335-5
Verlag: Lone Cloud
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 319 Seiten

Fed up with habitual criminals using prison as a temporary hotel? Directus Iurisdictio has an ancient alternative. Sean Fagan of SOCA is sent undercover to investigate the dark structure of a secret network that executes habitual criminals, dishonest MPs, greedy bankers and spying policeman.Fagan is drawn into a web of deceit as he goes undercover to investigate the dark and secret structures of Directus Iurisdictio, Direct Justice. Dismissing the criminal judicial system as not fit for purpose, a system which repeatedly allows prisoners free to re-offend, Directus Iurisdictio evokes its own ancient system of social retribution. The crime rate plummets as habitual rapists, burglars, paedophiles and other career criminals die or vanish without trace.Enticed by two beautiful sisters who he suspects are members of DI, Fagan gets close enough to discover involvement of senior Whitehall officials using Directus Iurisdictio to save the judicial system billions. When Fagan does not join them as expected they order his immediate execution. Knowing Directus Iurisdictio has infiltrated the police, SIS and Government he is trapped in a world of sinister forces. Only his own determination and skill can extract him.

I was born while enemy aircraft bombed London, spent some of my childhood amidst the wretchedness of post-war Austria, then with siblings and mother, followed my military father across the world. At the age of 15 I joined the British Army and attended the apprenticeship college at Harrogate, then the Royal School of Military Engineering. At 17 I passed selection for the Paras serving in the Gulf and Europe. Afterwards, running my own electronic and physical protection company came easily and gave insider knowledge for my crime thrillers The Unseen, The Uncounted and The Unwanted. Now a father and grandfather, in parallel to these crime thrillers, I have ventured into the action/fantasy world of the young reader aged 12+16. The Mind Traveller is a series of three books where Rosie adventures deep into the unchartered universe of Mind Space. Second and third is The Witch's Shadow and Warrior Of The Light. As a fulltime writer I live between the UK, Portugal and Ireland.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Mckenna, James

Leseproben

CHAPTER 2

“You realise your request may forfeit a man’s life?”

“Dramatically put.” The Chief of Joint Intelligence smiled without mirth as they passed the statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. “But the outcome depends on this criminal and Fagan’s reaction. You could say we are leaving it to fate.” He paused to let a mother pass preceded by two small boys. “He will kill of course?” he said in question. “No point plotting this event if Fagan won’t kill.”

John Cobbart let go his breath and flexed his jaw. “In defence of the innocent or himself, I think he would. But killing is not listed as a requirement for employment by the Serious Organised Crime Agency.”

“Quite,” the Chief nodded. “Hence you understand the need for total secrecy. And at this stage that includes Fagan himself.”

“I understand the delicacy of the situation. Fagan will only be informed on a need to know basis as events proceed.” Cobbart grimaced and clasped hands behind his pin-stripped suit before throwing the question which worried him most. “Considering the unorthodox nature of this operation, I trust the Minister and PM are briefed?”

“I’m not a liberty to say. For your purpose you report all information directly to me.” The Chief paused waiting on two joggers to pass. “The Box, MI5, will do the same.”

Which means the operation is deniable, Cobbart thought while standing aside.

“If this ever blew up,” the Chief continued, “the damage would be considerable. Whitehall is full of busybodies trying to be where they shouldn’t and all too ready to prattle should they fall from favour. Therefore at this point only three SIS heads know the scope and complexity of the operation. As for your own man, the shooting will provide cover. His brief would appear on the surface to be solely involved with investigation of the Death Heads, the National Street Security gangs and any active distribution of drugs by them. No one on the other side would ever suspect he had been planted. Who knows, having shot a criminal he might even be approached by Directus Iurisdictio for recruitment.”

Cobbart clasped and unclasped his palms, listening to the sound of ducks as they glided on water. Of course, why else would this conversation be held outside with no records of any sort? Those instigating the investigation did not know who the opposition were, did not know who amongst their own ranks were members of DI. He watched the Chief smile and raise his hat to a pretty young nanny in uniform, her tiny charge possibly Arab or Asian. The nanny smiled back.

“So tell me, what exactly is the ultimate objective?” Cobbart asked.

The Chief spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. “To disband Directus Iurisdictio, Direct Justice, from the top downwards.”

Cobbart could tell the man lied and saw by his eyes he realised as much. “My God, you want control.” Cobbart stopped. “You realise the dangers? The laws of Direct Justice are not only unconstitutional, they’re medieval.”

“John, the human race is medieval. Our so called civilisation is a thin veneer over brutal savagery. Evidence is everywhere. If we were not medieval how do you think an organisation like DI could grow until straddling every class of our society? People are angry. In its present form DI is already saving this country millions. Under proper direction millions would become billions. The Street Security gangs might be predominantly rightwing neo-Nazis but via unofficial but central control they could be a national asset. Only the Death Heads with their radical Islamic teachings and their control by hard East European criminals are a serious threat. Authoritative influence on our nation’s will and outlook is eroding; DI is a means to regain Government manipulation. Afterwards, if needed, we eliminate it. But present interest is for the economic good and re-establishment of firm central control over the populace.”

“You mean unseen and unrealised control by an alternative political system not accountable to law.”

“John, you’re been reading and believing too many newspapers. Since the start of history, for the greater good, when has the individual ever been considered? Public relations exercises by politicians expounding the right of freedom and justice are all very commendable. But you and I both know it’s a load of bollocks. The populace has always been manipulated by tight monetary indoctrination, all bundled into the illusion of a democracy which allows individual freedom.” He raised a finger in a gesture of exclamation. “Let’s not bullshit. We must curtail those on the fringes so the inner core is pacified.”

Cobbart clenched fists behind his back and stared across the Serpentine to where a group of children played on the grass, their mothers lolling in idle chatter. He felt sweat on his palms. “Now I think you are being dramatic.”

“John, like it or not, it’s the way civilised humanity works. So, let’s put politics aside. All I want from your agent is information. I have others who will do the dirty work.”

“And you believe killing this dealer will give Fagan entry to DI ranks?” Cobbart asked.

“St Albans City is one of DI’s most active cells. Why do you think it’s virtually crime free?”

“What if DI kill Fagan?”

“Why should they? He has legitimate cover investigating the Death Heads for SOCA. These gangs constitute organised crime. Considering the manner in which he will be sent there, I believe DI will not see him as an enemy but as a promising recruit. He’s perfectly safe.”

“Chief, you know full well if you go undercover as Fagan will, you don’t have a team, only someone co-ordinating information received. Amongst the enemy he will stand alone.”

“I think not. MI5 is also interested. Quite rightly they fear gangs following extremist Islamic and national policies will lead to unrest. Nationwide there are now reputedly over two hundred gangs from both sectors under a central control by Directus Iurisdictio. Local gangs are virtually disappearing. I repeat, this is organised crime, SOCA’s principal business.”

Cobbart shook his head. “Alice Sibree only looks after her own. They don’t call her the Witch without reason. They will know of Directus Iurisdictio and they will have their own operation.” They passed from Long Water to the Serpentine, the breeze rippling the surface to throw sparkled reflections of the afternoon sun. Cobbart kept his gaze on the far bank. “Have you informed Alice Sibree of our intention?” he asked, turning his head.

The man looked uncomfortable. “No, not directly, but she will know, that witch knows everything. I’m almost certain our two operations will eventually link.”

“You’re asking me to throw Fagan into a nest of vipers.”

“John, since taking over this office I have discovered we have more than one agency not spoken of. Fagan will not be alone.”

“I don’t like it, this is no way to treat a dedicated officer.”

“But all for the good of nation, John, all for Queen and country. There’s also talk of a knighthood or two.”

Sean heard the mobile ring the instant before he entered the clearing. In the deep forest it came as an alien sound, a technical intrusion amidst ancient oaks. The agreement had been adamant, only direct verbal communication, no outside interference, no third parties, no traceable mobile signal, no weapons. Both knew distrust or betrayal might be fatal, which was why Sean pressed his thumb against the safety of the Glock 9mm automatic thrust into the pocket of his parka. Vince Grogan was a dangerous and untrustworthy man.

Stepping from cover the sound of Sean’s movement turned Grogan's head. The man had a cell phone to one ear while raising a pistol with his free hand, his eyes and mouth wide, his fear clarifying his intention. Sean dropped to one knee an instant before he saw the muzzle flash and felt the breath of death pass his ear to impact on the tree trunk behind. His response came instinctively and for a second he stayed immobile while aiming. Grogan's gun arm had already levelled for another shot when Sean fired.

The explosive discharge of two weapons simultaneously sent violent sound into the forest and a 9mm bullet through Vince Grogan’s head. Sean realigned his wrist from the kickback and took second aim, only to see Grogan dead before he fell.

Sean lowered the pistol, lowered his head, death gave no satisfaction, only a sense of defeat and revulsion. Grogan had been one on a list. Now the list had been shortened, but this was not the way, never would be. The man would spread no more crime, wreck no more lives, but his death simply left a space to be filled by another. The war remained endless.

Sean’s mind refocused with the echo of shouts amidst trees as his backup team came running. Simmy arrived first, stopping where foliage gave boundary to the clearing.

“Jesus, guv, you sure took him out,” he said, staring at the crumpled body.

“Such is the nature of our game. Shame really, the bastard would have hated prison. What the hell did he think he was doing?” Sean drew an evidence bag from his pocket...