Committee , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd - Keith Turnbull

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

125 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

An undercover CIA officer, just back from a walk, gets killed in a hit-and-run in Erdut, Croatia, just after the war. The UN investigator he was chatting with disappears. The Irish Republican Army are trying to buy weapons from Serb irregular forces but their quartermaster gets more than he bargained for. It is a lucrative business, people trafficking. The hope in people's faces when they are 'selected' gives no indication of the terrors they are being chosen for. Escaping from Mexico, from Wuhan in China, from war-torn Syria, these people get bought by the rich, powerful and ill. Only a very secret UN organisation, The Committee, has the wherewithal to find the truth. All paths lead to Ireland but what is at the end of the paths? And why is a President of the United States involved?

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
Date de parution	30 novembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781398488502
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Committee
Keith Turnbull and Philip Ingram
Austin Macauley Publishers
2022-11-30
The Committee About the Authors Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgement Chapter 1: The Doctor Early 2020: --> Chapter 2: Grave Situation 1992: --> Chapter 3: The Road to Damascus 1983: --> Chapter 4: Accidents Happen Chapter 5: The Irish Connection 1998: Present day: --> Chapter 6: The French Connection Summer 2019: Wuhan, China: Amsterdam: Wuhan, China: --> Chapter 7: Geneva Thinking 2019: Syria, Spring 2019 --> Chapter 8: America Calling Autumn 2019 --> Chapter 9: Geneva Analysis Chapter 10: Ghost The present day. 2018. The present day. --> Chapter 11: A Manor of Reporting Present day. --> Chapter 12: Fresh Blood Chapter 13: Guest Operation Chapter 14: Almeda’s Awakening Chapter 15: The Hotel Visit Chapter 16: McCann’s Return Chapter 17: The Coming Together Chapter 18: No End Game
About the Authors
Keith Turnbull:
Initially, Keith ran Europe wide defence sales teams traveling internationally, almost daily, before returning back to take up new challenges. He has worked at ‘Top Secret’ classification with the British MOD and Foreign Office, working alongside special forces, law enforcement and Intelligence services. Today, he dabbles in that field and with OSINT.
Philip Ingram, MBE, BSc, MA:
Philip is a journalist specialising in the security, counter terror, cyber and intelligence arenas. His knowledge is built from a long and senior military career as Colonel in British Military Intelligence, a strategic planner – who has helped take over a couple of countries/regions. Philip runs his own media company, Grey Hare Media, and specialises in delivering informed content.
Dedication
To all those casualties of organisations whose role it is to make the world a little safer for us all, whether living or dead, with visible or invisible scars, simply: thank you.
For those whose only crime was to seek a better life free from poverty, but who fell prey to the evil of human trafficking, may you now find peace wherever you find yourself, alive or otherwise.
Copyright Information ©
Keith Turnbull and Philip Ingram 2022
The right of Keith Turnbull and Philip Ingram to be identified as authors of this work has been asserted by the authors in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398488496 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398488502 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published 2022
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd ®
1 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5AA
20230118
Acknowledgement
“The authors have truly captured the environment, emotion, and the anguish of the migrants forced to flee from poverty and war, and the suffering and horror that can follow at the hands of human traffickers. The book raises the real and traumatic consequences of human exploitation, and brings to the forefront a real need for education and for us to be more vocal in our disapproval of these evil profiteers.”
Miranda Coppoolse, Behavioural Analyst and Security Risk Advisor.
“This fast-paced novel brings out the international links between serious and organised crime, and terror organisations, illustrating how greed can and does lead to the entitled exploiting the desperate lining the pockets of the criminals, often in seemingly legitimate circumstances.”
Roy McComb, International consultant on Transnational Organised Crime and former Deputy Director with the National Crime Agency.
“Both authors are spot on regarding the link between organised crime, terrorism, and the plight of the weak and fearful. I have seen this first hand and this book further raises awareness of this vile trade.”
Anthony Stephen Malone, Elite Operator and former CIA Agent.
Chapter 1 The Doctor

Early 2020:
When the first incision of the surgeon’s knife went in, the patient was not fully anaesthetised.
The doctor had no incentive to wait.
No longer driven by his loyalty to the Hippocratic oath, stronger and more financial motivations were at work.
The second cut pierced the abdomen of the man laid out flat on the operating table.
Deeper went the knife, easily slicing through the dermis and downward into the subcutaneous tissue. It should have been along what is colloquially called, in female patients, the ‘bikini line’ but was slightly higher and slightly bigger than the usual 10–20 cm, and this was a male patient. He would not care. He would not be aware. Post-surgical aesthetics were the least of his worries in the moment.
The doctor did not take his focus away from the slicing of his knife into the flesh. He did not see the eyes of his patient suddenly opening and the instantaneous realisation that he was being carved up. His body was being opened up in front of his very eyes. The expression of immense shock changed to horror and excruciating pain.
The patient tried to move his arms in an attempt to stop the knife, but nothing happened. So many things ran screaming through his mind and why are my arms not moving was just one more to add to the thousands of others mixed up in the moment.
Hearing a rapid increase in the patient’s pulse rate through the beeping of the state-of-the-art monitors and sensing that his patient might not be fully under the influence of the anaesthetic, the doctor temporarily took his attention off the scalpel and instead looked towards the patient’s face.
In the moment he saw his patient awake, the face contorted in anguish and pain, he would know that his heart would, for a while longer, be beating much, much faster than was safe or good for the organ he was after.
The Succinylcholine in the IV drip had rendered the patient’s limbs paralysed. No matter what happened, he couldn’t move. He hadn’t intended for this to happen when he decided against waiting the few extra minutes before beginning the procedure. Had he waited those few extra minutes, the anaesthetic would now have been doing its job; The fluid drips would be fully circulating, and his patient’s heart would be beating at a manageable sixty beats per minute.
“Guard! You, come here. Be prepared,” he said to the powerfully built man, now standing at the edge of the surgical table.
He would show no emotion towards the man lying in front of him. Even if he remembers, if he lives, it will do him no good , thought the doctor.
Instead, the doctor felt angry and frustrated that he may, after all, have to wait a short while and possibly let the anaesthetist back into his operating room, his workplace, to have a second attempt to settle his patient. He was impatient. What to do? His mind raced; it always did.
He didn’t want anyone outside the theatre to know that he had a problem, so he decided to carry on with the operation and to stick to the original plan. It was the same plan that he’d carried out without emotion so many times before, and it was this plan which provided him with the riches and luxuries to which he was now so accustomed.
Besides, he thought to himself the stress being caused on the donor would raise the cortisol levels in the organ, which was a good thing for the waiting recipient. He had written and presented many papers on organs donated from non-heart beating patients and cortisol, the stress hormone, was always an important factor. This entirely unintentional behaviour of the donor’s heart would strengthen its immune system, thus increasing the likelihood of a successful transplant.
So, with a quick check to ensure the Succinylcholine was still working and the drip had sufficient fluid, the doctor nodded to the guard still standing watch by the table. It never felt strange to see a guard in surgical scrubs but the bulge by his waist wasn’t caused by medical equipment; the guard was armed with the latest Glock 9mm semi-automatic pistol, not a regular piece of surgical equipment.
The guard duly obliged. He had seen this happen before. He had witnessed the doctor’s impatience before, and this time was no different. He knew what to do.
Moving up to the patient’s shoulders, he looked down into his frantic eyes and smiled.
He felt for the second drip going into the arm and took the small syringe set on the stainless-steel trolley beside the donor’s head and injected it into the back of his hand, through the venflon. Moments later the ‘beep, beep’, of his heart rate calmed down as the pain subsided as he now slipped into proper unconsciousness. Ten years with Special Forces had more than qualified him to give an injection to the wounded without much care and attention for procedure.
The guard placed his hands on the patient’s shoulders. There was likely not much need for this now, but both men had also seen moments from victims with massive surges of adrenaline and the fear of imminent death bringing about some form of superhuman strength.
On this occasion, they had no reason to worry. The doctor returned his attention to the now partly open wound across the patient’s abdomen, which was leaking thick streams of blood, spilling onto the operating table.
This time, grunting under his surgeon’s mask, he went back to work lengthening and deepening the incision into the patients’ abdomen.
The only other person in the room was his long-suffering nurse, who rea