Chapter 5
For a couple of days now British SIS agent Marcus Lloyd had been following the known
terroist Alabez around the streets of Cairo. He'd been through the bazaars, sat in
cafes, restuarants and gambling in casinos. All the time he'd been following the
man he'd decided one thing, something was in the air. Something big.
The culmination of the last few days was Lloyd kneeling outside of Alabez's hotel
door, the Junior Suite in the Sheraton Royal Gardens. He was working on the lock of
the door, when the tell-tale click of the lock giving was heard. A slight smile and
a silent thank you to government training was given by Lloyd, before he turned the
handle and was in Alabez's suite.
Walking around the rooftop suite, Lloyd looked out of the window at the view it gave
of Giza and nearby Cairo. Tearing himself away, Lloyd forced his mind back onto his
mission. Looking around the room the agent took a small audio bugging device out of
his pocket. Placing the bug on the underside of a fruitbowl, he then placed another
bug in the reciever of the phone. Happy with his work, Lloyd left the room heading
down to the lobby.
Having rented a room above the small shop nearby, Lloyd moved through the lobby on
his way to set up the equipment to listen in on the Junior Suite and it's occupant.
What Lloyd wasn't aware of was that he had been watched by a pair of much more
experienced eyes for the last few days. Kryzov watched the SIS man make his way
out of the hotel, folding the newspaper under his arm Kryzov followed Lloyd out into
the humid streets.
The big Russian had been following Lloyd, noting everywhere he'd been and knew now
that he was heading for the room above a shop that the British agent had rented two
days ago. It was obviously where the recording equipment was being set up, due to
the fact that Lloyd must have been up to Alabez's room to place some bugs. Standard
operating proceedure. Kryzov thought about warning Alabez about the bugs but he
could pick up the recordings, after he'd eliminated the SIS agent.
* * *
Ceasar Alabez hadn't worked so hard in years, not since he first started working for
Castro in Cuba. Having grown up on the hard streets of Havana, he'd learnt to survive
in the early years after Castro had taken over. His father had fought against the
revolution and had left a wife and baby behind. Alabez's mother became a prositiute but
she soon degenerated, leaving the three year old Alabez to fend for himself. Becoming
a very proficient thief, Alabez soon moved into working for the street gangs that
roamed the underbelly of the city. His skills and above average intelligence soon
led to him controlling the biggest gang in Havana.
After a few close run-in's with the local police, Alabez was 'asked' to join Castro's
elite army intelligence force. While in the force he had training from the KGB, where
he learnt many ways to kill a man thus becoming a very effective assassin. He served
on some the most sensitive missions for Castro, and the KGB. He was one of the best in
the business until Castro decided he was respectable, with Cuba opening up and visits
from people like the Pope. Alabez was no longer needed so he decided to leave Cuba and
go freelance, rather than be 'retired'.
Moving from job to job, mainly for South American drug dealers, Alabez had found his way
to Europe. He did some assassination work during the Bosnian Crisis, before moving to
Cairo. Here work was a little thin but now thanks to Kryzov he had more than enough work
to be getting on with.
During the last few days he'd contacted many old 'collegues' and mercenary camps in a bid
to find the group he and Kryzov needed. Some had other commitments but he nearly had all
the men needed but one. He was waiting for the man he needed to help him train the troops.
He needed the best drill sergeant he knew, but what Alabez didn't know was how to find
him.
Walking through the streets of Giza, he soon arrived at the stairs of his hotel. He knew
that perhaps the fact that he was staying at one of the best hotels in Cairo was a little
may seem excessive but he needed the comforts he'd gotten used to. After a hard day on the
streets of Cario he needed a long soak in the bath.
After collecting his key card, Alabez went up to his room. Taking his jacket off he started
to pull his shoulder holster off when a noise made Alabez turn, as he dropped to one knee he
pulled a dagger from his belt. Standing by the window, his features blotted out from the
afternoon sun, was a man in a tan suit and wide-brimmed panama hat. A cloud of smoke was
exhaled by the man filled the room with sweet smelling smoke.
The man noticed Alabez's stance and the dagger in his hand, letting out a low chuckle. ' So
you haven't let yourself slip from your recent sabbatical, Cesar.' the man said in a low,
husky voice, the accent British.
Alabez got to his feet, putting the dagger back into the waist band of his trousers. Walking
over to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a tumbler of whisky, dropping a few cubes of
ice into the glass. Taking a sip Alabez turned to the man who had not moved from his postion,
causing the Cuban to squint slightly. ' I've been looking for you.' he said simply to the man.
The tall man let out another chuckle. ' I know. I've had every urchin and beggar in Cairo telling
me that. So what is so important that you send half of Cairo after me?'
Slumping into a chair Alabez look coolly at the man, who still hadn't moved from his postion.
' We have a training mission in the Congo with a follow up mission straight afterwards. The
pay will be good the risk probably high. But then you always like it like that don't you,
old friend?'
The man dropped his cigarette butt on the floor, crushing it under his foot. Taking his
hat off he sat in a chair which was postioned with it's back to the window, again keeping
the man's features in shadow. ' And who is our employer?' the man asked, in his dry almost
grating voice.
Alabez took another sip of whisky before answering. ' Our employers are Patterson and Jewel.
Have you heard of them?'
The man let out a small snort. ' I may not be doing much work nowadays Alabez but I do keep in
touch. I know of them, and how well they pay. Okay I will join you. Where do we meet?'
' You leave your contact details and I will be in touch.'
The man nodded his approval, picking up his hat and placing it on his head. Getting to his feet
the man walked past Alabez, the Cuban regarded him coolly. He knew the man's reputation and knew
that he'd been thought to be dead on more than one occasion, but always seemed to resurface.
He was a well built man, who moved with an easy grace. His blond hair was short, his face
cruel and dominated by ice blue eyes. His face had a small scar on the chin which led to a
cravat around his throat. He looked Alabez in the eye, giving him a curt nod before handing him
a card.
' Goodbye, Cesar Alabez.' he croaked.
' Goodbye, Donovan Grant.'
For a couple of days now British SIS agent Marcus Lloyd had been following the known
terroist Alabez around the streets of Cairo. He'd been through the bazaars, sat in
cafes, restuarants and gambling in casinos. All the time he'd been following the
man he'd decided one thing, something was in the air. Something big.
The culmination of the last few days was Lloyd kneeling outside of Alabez's hotel
door, the Junior Suite in the Sheraton Royal Gardens. He was working on the lock of
the door, when the tell-tale click of the lock giving was heard. A slight smile and
a silent thank you to government training was given by Lloyd, before he turned the
handle and was in Alabez's suite.
Walking around the rooftop suite, Lloyd looked out of the window at the view it gave
of Giza and nearby Cairo. Tearing himself away, Lloyd forced his mind back onto his
mission. Looking around the room the agent took a small audio bugging device out of
his pocket. Placing the bug on the underside of a fruitbowl, he then placed another
bug in the reciever of the phone. Happy with his work, Lloyd left the room heading
down to the lobby.
Having rented a room above the small shop nearby, Lloyd moved through the lobby on
his way to set up the equipment to listen in on the Junior Suite and it's occupant.
What Lloyd wasn't aware of was that he had been watched by a pair of much more
experienced eyes for the last few days. Kryzov watched the SIS man make his way
out of the hotel, folding the newspaper under his arm Kryzov followed Lloyd out into
the humid streets.
The big Russian had been following Lloyd, noting everywhere he'd been and knew now
that he was heading for the room above a shop that the British agent had rented two
days ago. It was obviously where the recording equipment was being set up, due to
the fact that Lloyd must have been up to Alabez's room to place some bugs. Standard
operating proceedure. Kryzov thought about warning Alabez about the bugs but he
could pick up the recordings, after he'd eliminated the SIS agent.
* * *
Ceasar Alabez hadn't worked so hard in years, not since he first started working for
Castro in Cuba. Having grown up on the hard streets of Havana, he'd learnt to survive
in the early years after Castro had taken over. His father had fought against the
revolution and had left a wife and baby behind. Alabez's mother became a prositiute but
she soon degenerated, leaving the three year old Alabez to fend for himself. Becoming
a very proficient thief, Alabez soon moved into working for the street gangs that
roamed the underbelly of the city. His skills and above average intelligence soon
led to him controlling the biggest gang in Havana.
After a few close run-in's with the local police, Alabez was 'asked' to join Castro's
elite army intelligence force. While in the force he had training from the KGB, where
he learnt many ways to kill a man thus becoming a very effective assassin. He served
on some the most sensitive missions for Castro, and the KGB. He was one of the best in
the business until Castro decided he was respectable, with Cuba opening up and visits
from people like the Pope. Alabez was no longer needed so he decided to leave Cuba and
go freelance, rather than be 'retired'.
Moving from job to job, mainly for South American drug dealers, Alabez had found his way
to Europe. He did some assassination work during the Bosnian Crisis, before moving to
Cairo. Here work was a little thin but now thanks to Kryzov he had more than enough work
to be getting on with.
During the last few days he'd contacted many old 'collegues' and mercenary camps in a bid
to find the group he and Kryzov needed. Some had other commitments but he nearly had all
the men needed but one. He was waiting for the man he needed to help him train the troops.
He needed the best drill sergeant he knew, but what Alabez didn't know was how to find
him.
Walking through the streets of Giza, he soon arrived at the stairs of his hotel. He knew
that perhaps the fact that he was staying at one of the best hotels in Cairo was a little
may seem excessive but he needed the comforts he'd gotten used to. After a hard day on the
streets of Cario he needed a long soak in the bath.
After collecting his key card, Alabez went up to his room. Taking his jacket off he started
to pull his shoulder holster off when a noise made Alabez turn, as he dropped to one knee he
pulled a dagger from his belt. Standing by the window, his features blotted out from the
afternoon sun, was a man in a tan suit and wide-brimmed panama hat. A cloud of smoke was
exhaled by the man filled the room with sweet smelling smoke.
The man noticed Alabez's stance and the dagger in his hand, letting out a low chuckle. ' So
you haven't let yourself slip from your recent sabbatical, Cesar.' the man said in a low,
husky voice, the accent British.
Alabez got to his feet, putting the dagger back into the waist band of his trousers. Walking
over to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a tumbler of whisky, dropping a few cubes of
ice into the glass. Taking a sip Alabez turned to the man who had not moved from his postion,
causing the Cuban to squint slightly. ' I've been looking for you.' he said simply to the man.
The tall man let out another chuckle. ' I know. I've had every urchin and beggar in Cairo telling
me that. So what is so important that you send half of Cairo after me?'
Slumping into a chair Alabez look coolly at the man, who still hadn't moved from his postion.
' We have a training mission in the Congo with a follow up mission straight afterwards. The
pay will be good the risk probably high. But then you always like it like that don't you,
old friend?'
The man dropped his cigarette butt on the floor, crushing it under his foot. Taking his
hat off he sat in a chair which was postioned with it's back to the window, again keeping
the man's features in shadow. ' And who is our employer?' the man asked, in his dry almost
grating voice.
Alabez took another sip of whisky before answering. ' Our employers are Patterson and Jewel.
Have you heard of them?'
The man let out a small snort. ' I may not be doing much work nowadays Alabez but I do keep in
touch. I know of them, and how well they pay. Okay I will join you. Where do we meet?'
' You leave your contact details and I will be in touch.'
The man nodded his approval, picking up his hat and placing it on his head. Getting to his feet
the man walked past Alabez, the Cuban regarded him coolly. He knew the man's reputation and knew
that he'd been thought to be dead on more than one occasion, but always seemed to resurface.
He was a well built man, who moved with an easy grace. His blond hair was short, his face
cruel and dominated by ice blue eyes. His face had a small scar on the chin which led to a
cravat around his throat. He looked Alabez in the eye, giving him a curt nod before handing him
a card.
' Goodbye, Cesar Alabez.' he croaked.
' Goodbye, Donovan Grant.'