Project Reaper , livre ebook

Andrews UK - M.W. Fletcher

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150 pages

English

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What would a British Scientific Nobel prize winning Professor and the head of a South American Drugs Cartel have in common? Professor Winston Alexander Hooke is the head of the Advanced Genetic Biotechnology (AGB) Research Centre that is the largest agricultural research centre in the United Kingdom. Two years ago, a government subcommittee had approached him to find a way to eradicate the opium poppy plant; the Project became known as Project Reaper. He succeeds and the results will be devastating to the opium plant. Toledo Verdugo is the head of the Verdugo cartel in Bucaramanga Colombia. His empire has thrived on the cultivation of the opium plant and selling the Heroine derived from it, to whomever can afford it from him. When Verdugo learns of this Project Reaper he is not going to allow anything to interfere with his business. He hatches a plan and the consequences result in chaos and bloodshed on the streets and the skies above Britain. As a result of this Max Storm, Major Strayker and the Operational strike Command have once more to step up to the plate in an attempt to bring order to the chaos and retribution to people who have instigated it. From the UK to the Maldives, Washington USA and South America there will be no hiding from the OSC. The OSC; is Britain's first and last line of offence.

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Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	25 mai 2016
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781782342793
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Title Page
PROJECT REAPER
A Max Storm Novel

By
M. W. Fletcher

Publisher Information
Project Reaper published in 2012 by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Copyright © M.W. Fletcher 2012
The right of M.W. Fletcher to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Bogotá Colombia South America
Lat = 4 degrees, 39.1 minutes North
Long = 74 degrees, 6.1 minutes West
Monday 12 th December 1988
Fourteen hundred hours and twenty three minutes
Local time
It had been hammering down with rain for around an hour, with the temperature around sixty-six degrees Fahrenheit. Professor Peter Thompson was bound, gagged and hooded on a wooden chair that was not built for comfort.
When the hood had initially been pulled down over his head he had nearly gagged, from the offensive smells given off from the hoods material, he was now becoming accustomed to this if that was at all possible.
“ How long have I been here ?” he pondered.
It seemed like forever; but could not have been more than a few hours.
He had been walking down El Dorado Avenue when a local beggar had asked him for some change, as he reached into his pocket he had felt the sharp blade of a knife sting the skin of his left midriff. Within a second, two more men appeared and pulled a hessian bag over his head; he was dragged kicking and screaming, that is the last he remembered for one of his assailants had struck him a vicious blow to his head, rendering him unconscious.
Peter Thompson worked for the United Kingdom’s
Advanced Genetic Biotechnology institute and had come to Bogotá one week ago; his meeting today with a professor Carlos Alberto had been unexpectedly cancelled earlier that morning, he had felt bored sitting in his hotel and had decided to take a walk.
Normally he had been escorted when he travelled by vehicle or foot, but today he had just wanted to walk without company and had slipped his Guardians, by taking a service elevator at the hotel and coming out a back door into the back streets, he soon found his way onto El Dorado Avenue and within minutes had been kidnapped.
Looking back; what a stupid, stupid thing to have done, he had been repeatedly warned of the dangers to foreign nationals; hence his minders, both ex special forces guys whom had accompanied him to Bogotá from the UK at the request of the UK government. He had come to liaise with Professor Carlos Alberto to bring together some information on Genetic engineering; today was to be their last meeting before he flew home.
Back home in the UK he had been working with the nineteen-eighty six Nobel Prize winner for chemistry Professor Winston Alexander Hooke.
He heard a heavy door opening and felt the rush of air assail his body; something was being wheeled into the room, a few moments later his hood was briskly yanked
from his head, the light invaded his eyes and for a few seconds everything was extremely bright and out of focus.
As his blurred vision began to focus, he noticed a table
with a T.V. screen and a VCR unit on it; obviously what
had been wheeled into the room, a man appeared to his right and stood between him and the T.V. screen.
He operated the T.V. and VCR switches and within a few moments the screen came to life, the man moved away and he was now watching a video; it showed a room with a hooded man bound to a chair, Professor Thompson quickly realised he was looking at the same room he was now in.
The hood was removed and he was now looking at Professor Carlos Alberto.
The man whom was now in the room pulled a chair up to Carlos, he had a metal rod in his hand, he spoke to Carlos; “I’m sure you know what this is professor.”
Carlos nodded, “now professor; I’m going to ask you a few questions, this cattle prod will be used to ensure I have the right answers, do you understand?”
Carlos nodded his head.
“Excellent professor, if you are co-operative you can be out of here and back in your home within the hour, is that what you want?”
“Yes,” replied the professor.
“Now you have been meeting with an English professor,
named Thompson, I have heard rumours that the English are designing some sort of genetic crop disease that will wipe out the opium plant; I want you to tell me what you
know about it?”
“I know nothing about this.”
The man swiftly moved the cattle prod to the professor’s torso, Professor Alberto jerked violently causing his chair to tip back onto the floor; another man moved into view and the chair and the professor were lifted upright again.
“This cattle prod has been modified for humans, it works at a very high voltage and low current so as to maximise pain and minimise the physical marks left on the victim. As you have just experienced professor; where it cause’s intense pain that can be repeated many times; how many times I will have to repeat this is down to you; now answer the question?”
The professor was still shaking from the first assault on his body, “I know nothing about what you are asking,” he replied.
The cattle prod touched his groin area; the professor let out an eerie scream and again was flung backwards onto the floor where he vomited profusely.
Again, he was put upright in his chair, “I admire your spirit Professor; however I can assure you that you will
talk, if necessary I am prepared to do this all night, so let’s repeat the question; tell me what you know about this genetic research?”
The professor was now breathing heavily, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Again, the cattle prod moved to his body, now touching his chest, the professor again cried out but this time he remained upright in his chair, he felt a massive muscle tension in the area of his chest followed by a shortness of breath, his vision began blurring and he flopped forward in the chair.
“Quick give me some water,” the man called to his accomplice.
He pulled the professors head up, “now don’t die on me know professor.”
“My heart, pills in my pocket,” wheezed the professor.
The man rummaged in the professors pockets and found the pills, the other man had brought a cup of water over, now professor answer my question and I’ll give you a pill.”
The professor could feel himself fading, “Project Reaper,” he replied.
“Say that again professor.”
The professor gasped trying to take in more air, his body stiffened and he died right there.
The T.V. was turned off; the man whom had carried out the
torture dragged a chair over to professor Thompson and sat down in front of him, “a pity we did not know about his heart condition; however Professor Thompson as you
can see I do not have a cattle prod with me, before you tell me about this Project Reaper I believe you have a wife and two children back home, I trust they are in good health.
“What do you know about my family?”
“Enough to know where they live and that we have some men watching them right now.”
“You’re bluffing,” replied the professor.
“Don’t take me for a fool Professor, I have only to pick up a phone and your family will be in harm’s way, now tell me about this Project Reaper?”
Professor Thompson capitulated and began to talk.
Back at the hotel, the two minders Merrick and Paterson had discovered Professor Thompson’s disappearance; they had spent an hour throwing money at people in the street to gain information as to the professor’s whereabouts, this had led to a two-storey building located on Av Calle 53.
The front of the building had a man standing by the door, Merrick and Patterson stood down the street, observing this man.
Merrick and Paterson were of average build, short-
cropped hair in loose fitting local clothing; they both carried the Browning FN HP-DA double action handgun, with fourteen rounds plus one in the chamber.
They also carried KA-BAR combat knives.
Both men discreetly checked their weapons, Merrick turned to Patterson, “what’s the plan?”
“No time to reconnoitre let’s take the doorman out quietly with a blade; I’ll approach him acting like I’m drunk and do him.”
Patterson crossed the street and began walking towards the doorman, he was swaying as he neared the doorman and he deliberately fell over to, enhance the effect.
As he neared the doorman, he spoke, “senor un cigarillo.”
Before the doorman could react, Patterson whipped the KA-BAR out and thrust the blade into the doorman’s jugular vein, the doorman collapsed instantly.
Merrick had run across the street and together they dragged the now dead doorman into the building.
They closed the door and stood listening.
They were standing in a small hallway that led down a hall to what looked like a large room with no door, to their right was a staircase to the second level, after a few minutes they heard a floor board creak on the second floor. Merrick tapped Patterson on the shoulder and using military sign language indicated they should check the
room on the ground floor, both men moved to the walls leading down the hallway, keeping away from the middle known as the fatal funnel, they had their handguns raised
in the high compressed ready position, arms extended and looking down the site line.
They moved slowly to the doorway standing either side away from the fatal funnel, which in effect