Private Dancers or Responsible Women by Andrew Parkin

Author:Andrew Parkin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strategic Book Publishing and Rights Co.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Kim arrived by helicopter at an air force base where without formalities she was taken to a small jet. It took off almost immediately. There were three other passengers, all in battle dress. They had bulky nylon fabric bags containing their equipment.

“Bonjour,” she said.

She had not worked with them before and did not know them. There was a chorus of “ Bonjours.” Then the chat was about the latest adventures of Les Bleus on the soccer field. They were soon disgorged on the airstrip of a military base flanked by forest and mountainous country near Montferrat. A very athletic and fit-looking colonel of the French Special Forces met them on the tarmac. The military people saluted.

“Bienvenue. Suivez moi,” he said and got into a minibus next to the driver.

The four arrivals clambered aboard with their bags and were driven to an ordinary looking prefabricated building. Inside was a highly polished floor with a staircase leading underground from the exact centre of the room. Two soldiers with light machine guns saluted the colonel and checked each of his guest’s IDs as they went down from the room. At the foot of the staircase, they appeared to be in a stainless steel box. The colonel stood in front of a control panel and then touched it with his fingertips. A door slid open to reveal a barred gate as in a prison. There were two guards with small, efficient machine pistols. The colonel again touched a panel and the barred gate slid into a cavity in the stone wall. The two guards put their pistols back at the salute position. The colonel ushered his party into an elevator that took them further underground. They emerged into a pleasant, wood-paneled room with a large screen that was in fact almost an entire wall. Kalitza preferred French for briefings—the language seemed to make them precise yet elegant, like good moves in chess.

“Welcome to our swimming pool,” said the colonel. “It’s leak proof. No recording. No bugs. We play water polo with our ideas and planning. We alone know what we do here. And we play to win.”

He then briefed them on two very dangerous and unpleasant men who controlled a group dealing with drugs and fearsome military weapons. There was a political dimension to their criminal activities. In Paris, a decision had been made. Special Forces had to control this operation. Their criminal opponents had a villa in the mountains not far from the coast. It had splendid views of the roads through the mountains. But the necessary intelligence had been gathered. A series of “submarines” (electronic surveillance vans), cyclists, and hikers, not to mention an undercover man, had done a very good job. A top terrorist from Spain was visiting the mountain hideaway the next day. All necessary evidence for arrests had been gathered. Now it was time for action. The colonel paused.

“Kim, you will be sent in from an agency the gang uses and trusts as being absolutely discreet. Your role is expensive bed mate for the terrorist from Spain.

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