A Little Better than a Baskin Robbins PI
Bosnia
1700 hours
A jewel robbery has just happened.
Or should have happened.
The prospective robbers ran into a little glitch along their path to riches.
It seems as though someone happened to have snuck a camera into the vault they were robbing and informed the police which door they were exiting through.
In case you were wondering, that somebody would be me.
The name is O'Grady.
Hank O'Grady
Pleased to meet you.
Its only been about three months since I completed my training at the Academy ala GL.
I spent several years there learning all sorts of things that you never think would be connected to fighting world-class crime.
Little skills like the one I used a couple hours ago: Breaking into a vault without setting off an alarm.
You would be surprised at how many skills needed to fight crime are the same as the ones needed to commit it.
I also learned the use of various types of gadgets developed exclusively in GL's labs.
Like a listening device so small that it can be disguised as a fly on the ceiling, or one of my favorites: A glove and kneepad set designed like a gecko's foot that will allow you to climb straight up a wall.
All in all, this beats being a private eye any day of the week.
When I finally graduated from GL's program I joined the World Crime Reduction Network, founded by GL.
I learned that there was more than fifty men, trained by veteran crime-busters just like GL, and working with him in his vision: To make the world a little better of a place by removing the leeches on society.
The agents work separately, but never alone; you always know that the whole team is behind you whenever you get in a jam.
Unfortunately, the kind of jams that folks in my profession get into usually travel as fast as a pistol bullet and it's a little hard to get backup in time for the impact.
Lately, I've been working in our Grand Theft Department, Eastern Europe division.
However, just as I was putting the final touches to this jewel robbery case, I got a call from the very top.
It seemed as though GL needed help for an important case.
In London.
The Case Details
Six hours later I was touching down in London, checking into my hotel, and picking up my packet at the local Fed-Ex.
Whenever an agent starts on a case, especially a special one like this, GL's Intelligence team sends him a packet with information needed, any special gadgets to add to your standard kit, and most importantly, your set of identities for this mission.
In my packet, I found two identities: a newspaper reporter's press badge and ID, and a level three Scotland Yard Security Clearance Pass.
I found these very interesting, but what really got my attention was the summary of the problem I had been sent to fix.
It seems as though yesterday evening an unknown group of men managed to sneak undetected into the Central Filing System of Buckingham Palace.
Due to fear of hackers, many of Britain's top secrets have not been kept on a computer, but stored in a paper format.
Many of these sensitive documents have been stored for years in the Central Filing System whose security was compromised.
The document that these thieves got away with was indeed a juicy one.
GL didn't know much about it except the fact that it described in great detail the nuclear defenses of the British Isles.
It would describe the size, power, number, and location of every nuclear missile in the British program.
This information would be particularly interesting to any one of the many nations that may want to wage war on Great Britain in the future.
So, I had my work cut out for me, I had to work my way into one of the most guarded rooms in Britain, find clues that had evaded one of the top police forces in the world, follow the trail to who knows where, and find a document that could be at any moment be heading overseas to the highest bidder.
All in a day's work...
In the Central Filing System
GL always said that the secret to any successful operation is 50% training, 45% preparation, and 5% luck.
Last I checked, I had the training down, but I'm still finishing up the prep work.
After a good look at a hyper-detailed map of Buckingham Palace, and getting my gear all packed up, I was ready to go.
A couple of hours later, an English gentleman appeared at Buckingham Palace and after going through the necessary security, joined a tour of the interior.
After going through the art gallery on the second floor, he excused himself to go to the restroom.
I had targeted that particular restroom to part from the tour in because it was the only one of it's kind in the Palace.
It was the only one that had an outside window that wasn't covered by security cameras.
It took about ten minutes of waiting in the bathroom until I was the only one in there, and then I took my opportunity.
The window was locked with two keyed latches.
Long practice told me that It would take me fifteen seconds apiece to pick them.
And I was right.
Opening the window, I set the it to re-lock itself after I had closed it.
I wasn't planning on coming back through this way.
I slipped on my gecko gloves and kneepads and slipped out of the window.
I found myself two stories up on the wall of Buckingham Palace, just where I had planned.
The next step was to climb up to the roof where the real fun began.
Once on the roof, I had to navigate myself to the entrance to the shaft that ventilated the security and administrative arias of the Palace.
This three foot pipe was my route to the Filing Room.
Using a sonar depth finder, I discovered that the pipe began with a fifty foot drop.
Good thing that I had anticipated it and brought my free-falling equipment.
I attached the anchor end to a hand railing, and set the locking device on my belt to forty-seven feet.
All that I had to do next was jump, and I did.
Once on the bottom of the drop, the pipe made a 'T' and I chose the south-bound one.
Using my GPS directional glasses, I was able to navigate my way through the pipes in complete darkness.
Twenty minutes later, my GPS told me that the grate in front of me was the one in the filing room that I needed to go through.
Using metal cutters, I cut my way through the screws that held the ventilation screen in place (I brought screws to replace them with when I was done).
Now normally, it would be a simple matter of dropping to the floor, but a small detail that I had to keep in mind was that one of the main security features of the room was an invisible random laser field that went every which way.
Now, the system that GL had developed for getting through security like this worked along the principle of how a laser works.
You see, all security lasers have two parts: A sender that makes the laser and a receiver that the laser is pointing at.
The security system is activated when the receiver is no longer receiving laser light.
The way I get around this is to flood the entire room with laser light using four baseball-sized senders that I hang from the ceiling like disco balls.
My glasses automatically adjust to neutralize the powerful light, and I land safely on the floor of the filing room.
What I found, and Getting Out
Once inside the room, I started going down my mental list of things to check.
It was obvious right from the start why the thieves only got away with one document.
The room wasn't what you would consider a filing room, there wasn’t
a filing cabinet in it.
Instead, the walls were covered with hundreds of tiny safe compartments about four inches square, kind of like the P.O. boxes at the Post Office.
Behind each one of these little doors was a document worth millions to the British government.
Each of the doors was locked with a fifteen digit mechanical lock.
It would take the best in the business with the right tools at least an hour to get through that lock.
And the room was checked at least once every hour and a half.
Looking around, the safe that was robbed was easy enough to spot, because of the gaping hole in the door.
The thieves had obviously taken the easier, but less subtle, route of using acid and just eating their way through the metal.
I scraped off a little bit of the charred metal in hopes of determining what kind of acid was used.
I really wasn't finding much in there, scanning for fingerprints didn't bring up anything useful, neither did a detailed search for larger clues such as cigarette butts or a Band-Aid.
My time, however, was running short.
I didn't know the guard rotation and I might find myself with company at any minute.
I decided that there wasn't much more to find, and I needed to get rolling.
So, I collected my 'disco balls’, pulled myself into the pipe, and, using a special tool and magnetic screws, re-screwed the grate on from inside the pipe.
The return route was a bit simpler, but required me to take another route through the ventilation pipes.
As I was going along, my hand brushed against something in the pipe.
Picking it up, I discovered that it was an automatic pistol.
It didn’t take me long to figure out that a gun lying in one of the ventilation shafts leading to the Central Filing System might just be a clue to the robbery therein.
I picked it up and stuck it in a back pocket.
After a couple more minutes of crawling around, I finally got to my destination: the security guard’s locker room.
It didn’t take me long to drop through the opened grate and into the empty room.
No real need to change, I just clipped my security clearance card to my breast pocket and stepped out into the hall.
You will find, as a general rule, that security systems are designed to keep unwanted people out, not in, so I didn’t have much problem just walking out to my car and driving back to my hotel room.
The day’s activity had yielded precious little information to go on, but it just might give me a lead.
Whodunit?
Once back in my hotel room, I started running chemical tests on the metal scrapings I took from the safe.
The chemical residue showed me that the thieves used a very interesting acid called Lebochloric 46.
You won’t find it in any chemistry textbook as it was developed for espionage purposes during the Cold War.
The reason it is so special is because of it’s unique ability to cut through metal quickly without creating any smoke.
It also has no effect on other matters such as glass or human skin.
It’s extremely expensive and also rare because its composition is very classified.
Generally, you will only find it in well-funded operations.
The gun however revealed even more.
I was confused at first, because the gun was of a make distinctive to Scotland Yard.
However, the ammo in it was from Russia.
On its side, as on all of British guns, was an Identification number that I E-mailed over to the WCRN computer systems.
Long ago, GL had tapped into the gun records of every country in the world and had compiled them for the use of his agents.
The report came back telling me that several matches had been found.
It seems that the gun had been originally been registered in Britain to an Officer Nick O’Reilly.
A side note told me that Officer O’Reilly had disappeared in '85 during the Cold War.
A second match showed me that the gun was most recently registered to a Commander Nicholas van Reilly.
An active member of the Russian KGB.
Who is he?
Attached to the file was a profile of Nicholas van Reilly.
Mother was a Russian Communist, Father died early. He joined the British service at the age of twenty-one and took training in espionage and detection. One year after his graduation from the police academy, he defected to the Russians and joined their espionage program in the KGB.
Now the KGB has two branches, the branch you hear about the most is their general branch, that does all of their planned activities.
We suspect, however that van Reilly is a member of their second, free-rein branch.
A good part of espionage is spur of the moment, and the KGB recognizes this.
They have a group of agents that aren’t active in the general missions, but simply prowl in a particular area.
These make up the free-rein branch of the KGB, they are well supplied and well paid as long as they continue being useful to their officers.
This has good and bad implications: van Reilly’s loyalties are to Russia, so the Nuclear document isn’t going to be for sale on the world market, yet.
Because much of a free-rein agent’s job status depends on his still being useful to his officers, and due to the need for security, a free-rein KGB officer will never send a document or tell of it’s contents electronically.
The only way that van Reilly will be getting that document to Russia is if he gets on a plane and flies it there himself.
The big problem with tracking down this guy is that he’s invisible. He has a million assumed names and works completely undercover. His life is designed so that no one who wants to find him can.
He’s like a wolf that roams from place to place without a den.
There is one handy thing about wolves, though, they’re always hungry and they are always open to falling into a trap.....
Where is he?
A pushy reporter rushed into the London Times ten minutes before the deadline for articles for the evening paper.
Spying the general editor at his desk he ran over to him.
“Sorry Chief, this report just came in an hour ago, and I had to run my legs off to verify it in time” he gushed.
“Humph,” said the chief, “who in blazes are you?”
“The name’s Tibbits, Mark Tibbits, I was engaged as a freelance writer in Russian affairs by your assistant.”
“Whatever, what did you get?”
“Details concerning the sale of confidential Russian documents to a Mr. Guper of Portsmouth. He bought them at an auction yesterday for ten thousand pounds.”
“Hmm, it’s worth a four-liner, give this paper to the girl at the cashier and she’ll pay you.”
“Thanks a lot!”
And with that, the bait was set.
Mr. Guper was a good friend of mine, with a large house, a good sized vault, and a huge love for his country.
When I told him of the circumstances that I needed to ‘borrow’ his house for the night, he was willing to help me out.
I knew that van Reilly was wanting to deliver his prize to Russia but I was guessing that he wasn’t in an extreme hurry, and that he might be goaded into making one last caper before he flew home.
And this time I would be waiting for him.
Finding van Reilly
That night, a shadow crept up to the Guper estate.
A locked downstairs window slowly opened, and closed.
The shadow moved over to the vault, and examined it.
It was a large thick one, ruling out the use of acid.
The only option was to figure out the combination to the lock.
As he concentrated on his work, another shadow silently traveled across the ceiling.
A small wad of chewed gum dropped to the floor directly behind van Reilly’s foot.
As he stood up to open the vault, he stepped in it and deeply stuck the gum (as well as the imbedded locating device) to the sole of his shoe.
As he slowly pulled the handle to open the vault, I triggered the alarm.
Van Reilly never got to see that the vault was empty, he was too busy beating a hasty, inglorious retreat out the window.
As he was running across the lawn, I was checking the signal from the locator device that would show me his position anywhere in the world.
Gotcha.
Tracking him down
As van Reilly walked over to his car parked a couple blocks away, I was getting ready to follow him to the place he was calling home.
For this delicate piece of work, I chose my personal favorite, a silent running electric motorcycle capable of running up to eighty miles an hour.
One of the perks of my job, I guess.
I programmed the signal of the locating device into my GPS glasses and I was ready to go.
Silently following his car a couple blocks behind, he finally stopped at a huge warehouse about an hour away and got out.
I decided that this was a good night’s work, and headed back to my hotel room to think.
Due to the size of the warehouse, my original plan of sneaking through, finding the document, and stealing it back was out of the question.
It was going to take a little more strategizing than that.
Finally, I came up with a game plan and sent a call over to GL.
I was going to need a boat.
A really big, fast one.
After listening to my plan, GL was happy to oblige.
Finally, it was all coming together....
Caught!
When I got to the warehouse, it was still in the early hours of the morning, but a car was parked around front.
I just hoped I had guessed the day right and snuck over to a side door.
Two minutes later, I had picked the lock, and was in the warehouse.
Inside, it was huge, and was filled with piles of big boxes that you had to walk around like in a maze.
Just as I was snooping around through the warehouse I accidentally ran into a box that was evidently filled with fine china.
It fell to the ground with a huge crash that reverberated through the entire building.
Just as I was picking myself up from the wreckage, I heard a click behind me.
I whirled around and stared into the business ends of a couple of pistols and an M5 just for fun.
Apparently van Reilly had friends.
Just as I was wondering what was going to happen next, up came walking the man himself.
He spoke very clearly and with an educated tone.
“Well, who is this?”
At that moment, unfortunately, just as I was straightening up, my lock-picking kit slipped out of my pocket and fell onto the floor at van Reilly’s feet.
Perfect.
Picking it up, he looked at me, “Well?”
“I’m a man who’s a lot like you, Commander van Reilly, an invisible force for the cause we serve. You serve Russia, I serve Justice. You are the wolf that hunts men, but I am a man that hunts wolves. So you see, we are really not that different.”
The Commander gave a thin smile, “Quite so, only the problem is that this wolf has the advantage, you see”, and he meaningfully nodded towards his men’s artillery.
I hate those annoying little details.
One of his men asked in a thick Russian accent, “Sir, what are you planning on doing with him?î
“Well,” he answered, I obviously must question this ‘wolf hunter’ further, but we have no time, we must catch our plane in half an hour.”
He looked at me, “So, how would you like to take a trip to Russia?”
Somehow, that didn’t sound as fun just now as it might have.
On a Plane to Russia
As we walked out to the car, my ‘new friends’ made it very clear to me that if I tried any funny business I would be catching a serious case of ‘lead flu’.
They also patted me down and confiscated everything that looked like a gadget including my cell phone, PDA, gun, and watch.
Luckily, they didn’t take my glasses, or find any of the little surprises I had saved for them.
Getting into the car, we drove to the airport and up to a large aircraft bay.
The plane we boarded was a cargo plane, not a passenger one, so we didn’t have any of those little conveniences such as a heater, or seats.
I noticed as we went up the ramp that the only luggage that was brought was a leather briefcase carried by van Reilly.
Bingo.
We all huddled in a corner of the plane, while two of van Reilly’s men went up into the cockpit to start the plane.
As we taxied up to the runway and took off, my captors were very intent on making sure I wasn’t going to make a break for it.
However, once we got up to cruising height, they seemed to relax a little bit.
Not one of them noticed me slowly slide my hand into my right boot.
And grab the small derringer I had hidden there.
They were all sitting in a corner of the plane playing pinochle when I casually announced my present advantage.
They were rather surprised, but van Reilly seemed indifferent.
“Bravo, sir. It seems as though you have trumped this play. I wonder, though, if you can possibly hold this advantage through the whole game?” he questioned.
“I’m working on it, don’t rush me,” I shot back, “In the meantime, I would be much obliged if you would hand me that briefcase.”
“Very well,” van Reilly smiled as he handed it over, “It’s not going to do you much good 30,000 feet above the ground is it? I’ll be getting it back soon enough when we get to Moscow.”
“Do you mind if I ask you what you have in it?”
“Not at all, over the years, I have been collecting various documents that will be very valuable in the event that my Father country should want to wage war on Great Britain. Among them is my greatest work, a document stolen from the most guarded room in Buckingham Palace. I consider myself the only man in the world that could have managed it.”
“Hmm, I’ll make a note of that one,” I said as I backed slowly to the wall, “and now gentlemen, I must take my leave of you.”
Van Reilly laughed, “Impossible, we’re more than 30.000 feet above the Bering Sea, there’s no place for you to go!”
“Except down,” I reminded him.
And with that, I reached behind me with my hand holding the briefcase to the handle of the outside door and opened it.
“Toodles!” I winked, and stepped backward.
Out of the plane.
Into nothing.
Wrapping it all up
It is interesting looking back and seeing the little places that I needed that little providential push to get the job done.
Things like van Reilly deciding to give me a virtual confession right when I ‘happened’ to have the recorder imbedded in my tie pin running.
Or the decision of van Reilly to take me with him to Russia instead of shooting me there on the spot.
Or the fact that no one doubted the my bluff that the derringer was authentic.
The fact is that what I was threatening the men in the plane with was something so dangerous and powerful that I wouldn’t have dared use it while I was in the plane.
It was, in fact, a powerful, miniature, one shot rocket launcher capable of blowing the side of the plane out.
I feel as though God really dose care about what we are doing here on earth, and that He does sometimes make the right things happen at the right time for the people that are trying to serve Him better.
It is interesting looking back and seeing all of that, but that will all have to wait for the moment.
Because right now, I am rocketing towards the frigid Bering Sea at an incredible rate.
Without a parachute.
The first thing I did after stepping out of the plane was to take careful aim and fire my one rocket into the left wing of the plane, seriously damaging it.
I know one airplane that isn’t going to be making it anywhere close to Russia anytime soon.
In fact, I would be expecting all of the passengers to have to bail out within the next couple minutes.
Having taken care of that, I needed to focus on the more urgent task of, well, not dying.
As I fell, I tried to lean this way and that so that I would be falling directly next to a blip I saw on my GPS glasses.
Once I was where I wanted to be, I flattened out so that I would fall as slowly as possible in the same place.
Even doing this, I knew that the surface tension of the water would be enough to break my back.
Which is why I had, as I was falling, two two-stage explosives in the heels of my boots.
As I got within five hundred feet of the water, I straightened out my legs and body so that my feet were falling first and my head last.
The computers in the soles of my boots took over.
As I was falling, they were measuring my speed, velocity, and time of impact with water to the nano-second.
One and a half seconds before impact, two small explosions propelled the heels away from me to hit the water first.
One second later, they both gave off two large explosions that effectively broke the surface tension of the water an instant before I hit it.
I blasted through the water to quite a depth and then rose to the top.
There, sitting in a big, fast looking boat, was GL grinning at me.
“Looks cold!” He called out as he threw me a rope.
The water was absolutely frigid.
As I crawled onto the deck, I asked what the story was with van Reilly.
“Oh, he’s sitting and shivering on a yellow, plastic raft about thirty miles from here because his plane seemed to have crashed.
“The British Navy has sent out a destroyer to pick them up and, providing you have enough evidence, they all should go out to prison for quite some time.”
As we sped towards the French Coast, I slept like a baby.
After all, it had been a pretty eventful weekend.
But with all of that, I was very glad to say that thing which I said after all of my jobs:
“Mission Accomplished, Mr. O’Grady, go buy yourself a bowl of Ice-cream: you need the energy.
THE END
