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Scorpion's Vengeance, "Wild Goose Chase"

Action adventure stories are my favourite, I love reading them, and recently I discovered I love writing them!

Hi There

Just saying hello

Just saying hello

From the Author

Sorry that there was no episode last week, it was time to spend time with the family, and as much as I enjoy writing the story, time with family is more important.

Having said that, I did make some progress with the story, and there are a few more episodes ready for their 'first airing' as it were, so we'll get on with the story from here.

Last time we had Joey and Sandy going to protect a young hacker who'd stopped a major cyber-crime from occurring, and they got ambushed, but it was all part of the plan!

Meanwhile, we found out that the Metropolitan Police (that's what the Police in London are called, and often simply referred to as 'The Met' have worked out where the body went into the river, but not much more, that is apart from the fact that someone somewhere, much further up the government 'food chain' doesn't want them to find out!

But remember, there's also a ruse going on, someone wants the government to think one thing, while something else is going on, and that someone, (actually there are at least five of them,) is Scorpion Team.

Sound confusing? Good, that's just what intelligence work is like, or so they tell me! Smoke and mirrors, the art of deception.

Let's see where things go from here.

Back at the scene of the shooting "Someone saw something"

“999 Emergency, which service do you require” the voice, that of a young female seemed so ridiculously out of place, very English yet totally wrong for the situation.

“Er, not sure” the young man on the phone spat back, “There’s been a shooting, down Hucknall street,”

“Thank you, putting you through to the police” the voice came back, “please stay on the line” like he was going anywhere, he’d just entered the street and a hail of bullets seemed to be coming his way, he’d dived for cover and prayed like he hadn’t since he was five years old. A few moments later another voice, that of a male came on the line.

“Police emergency, how can I help?” the voice asked.

“There’s been a shooting, a shooting, down in Hucknall street” he didn’t realise the nerves causing him to repeat himself.

“Thank you, can I clarify where you are, where exactly was the shooting?”

“I’m on the corner of Hucknall and Bracegirdle streets”

“Is that is Bath?” the voice cut him off, “or?”

“Bristol you bloody idiot” the young man screamed, he was beginning to lose the plot, “There are bullets everywhere, a couple of people have just bundled a guy into a car, I think they’re taking him to the hospital!”

“Has an ambulance been called?”

“I just damn well told you, someone took the guy to the hospital! Besides, you’re the flaming emergency services, you should know that!”

“Stay with me sir” the voice was calm, bringing order to the chaos, “I need to ask you, are the shooters still at the scene?”


“Are they injured?”

“How the hell should I know, they left in a car!”

“The shooters? Or the victim”

“Both!” he knew it probably wasn’t making a lot of sense, but he was telling things as they happened, “Look, all heard was a hail of gunfire, and a car speeding off followed by the other two bundling a guy into the back of a car.”

“How do you know it was gunfire?”

“There are holes and broken glass at least half a dozen cars in the street, the car alarms are going nuts”

“Okay sir” the voice was still calm, “Armed police are on their way, as well as ambulances, please stay where you are and don’t touch anything”


“Get in and stay down” Joey screamed as he pushed Paul hard to the floor in the vehicle, “Move your legs” he reached down and violently pulled them up into the back of the estate car, slamming the back down he ran round to the passenger door, Jacko was waiting in the driving seat, Sandy was already buckled into the back, the second the door slammed shut he floored the accelerator, wheels spun and tyres screeched as they hurtled down the road, so far everything was going to plan, though to the rest of the world it looked as if everything had fallen apart, just what they needed people to think.

“I thought it was Mac coming for us?” Joey sort of asked the question.

“You just wanted to see my awesome driving skills again” Jacko joked, his driving was legendary in the unit for being totally reckless

“Yeah right” Joey replied as he climbed into the back, Sandy was already in the passenger seat, “Sorry to disappoint boss, but even I’d prefer to take a pass on that one!”

“And I thought you had a sense of adventure” Sandy was almost laughing, a nervous laugh.

“We’ve just been bloody well shot at” Paul blurted out, “and all you people can do is a joke about it! Who the hell are you folks?” he was trying to raise himself up, Joey had thrown a heavy blanket over him, it was hard work, but he was moving it, and his wits were slowly coming back.

“Your guardian angels” Joey quipped as he slapped him hard on the back of the head forcing him down again, “It’s Kevlar, keep the sodding thing over you, we’re not out of the woods yet!” he turned to Jacko, “let’s get the hell out of here boss!”

Jacko floored the accelerator, the front wheels spun as the car jumped forward forcing Sandy and Jacko back into their seats

How many lies are disguised by 'The truth'

Telling the truth, yet not telling it!

Telling the truth, yet not telling it!

"Keep a lid on this bloody thing!"

“Sorry to disturb you sir” the voice on the phone sounded apologetic, Sir Michael knew it was the duty officer at Vauxhall house, and he was performing the task everyone at M.I.6 dreaded, giving the director of intelligence bad news, “but we’ve got a bit of a situation, sir, a code yellow,”

“Casualties?” Sir Michael cut him off, he knew the codes, ‘red’ was an ambush with fatalities, yellow was injuries, green was ‘bloody lucky’ he thought, he already knew all the information, but it was vital he plays the part, they couldn't let the ‘mole’ know it was a setup, and that mole was a part of ‘6’s infrastructure!

“We have at least one injury sir” the young agent replied, “the one they were protecting took a hit, we’re not sure how bad yet.”

“Why not?” Sir Michael asked, doing a good job of sounding alarmed, “aren’t you in contact with the team?”

“Sorry sir” the agent sounded flustered, “I’ve only got the information my superior gave me, the team is mobile to one of our safe houses, one with medical facilities”

“Which one?” Sir Michael already knew the reply, and he knew the team weren’t on their way there, at least not with the ‘target’ but MI6 wasn’t to know that.

“The one they were sent to protect sir” he began to reply.

“What the?” Sir Michael cut him off, “weren't they SUPPOSED to be damn well protecting that one?” he acted angrily, it was pretty convincing, he carried on “what about cleanup, has a cleanup team been dispatched?”

The desk officer was taken a bit by surprise, “negative sir, a call was made to the police before we could respond, armed police are sealing the area off as we speak!”

‘Cleanup teams’ have one job, and that's to remove any trace of an agency involvement. They're often the best forensics people around. The challenge of ‘hoodwinking’ the police is just too much to resist, but there just wasn't time, the ‘plods’ as the cops were often known were on their way.

“In that case”, Sir Michael began again, “we better get a liaison officer down there, I want to know everything they know, and preferably first, I want a lid screwed down tight on this, and I mean NOW!"

Back into the fray

“Just what the hell is going on?” Paul tried to raise himself up, he was being held down by someone, “this is kidnapping, let me up”

“In case you haven't realised yet” Joey pushed him back down, “those bullets were meant for you, now sodding well stay down until we tell you otherwise”

“But what, why?”

“You're forgetting the first one” Sandy chipped in, “the who?”

“Whatever!” He shouted, “one minute I'm playing a game on my laptop, the next I'm being bundled into the street, and people are shooting, just who were they, and why me? and where's my laptop?”

“You’re on a ‘tech-free’ diet as of now!” Sandy spoke loud enough to be heard over the engine, the big Ford wasn't noisy, but Jacko was ‘pushing her’ a bit, Sandy saw the speedometer touch eighty miles an hour just as they merged onto the M5 motorway, he backed off as soon as they were in the flow of traffic.

Ten miles further up was a motorway service, petrol, restaurants, accommodation, truckstop, the works, almost perfect for the car swap, if the CCTV didn't catch them that is.

Back in the 1950s, a rather well-known author wrote a book about the Britain of the future, a book that painted a bleak picture of CCTV cameras and microphones everywhere, watching every move, listening to every word, checking every person to make sure they’re ‘towing the line’. The book became a classic, and everyone thought that what he predicted would never happen in a Democracy, how wrong they were!

But, even with the best cameras, the most potent mikes, there are always ‘black spots’ parts where the camera doesn’t see, the mic doesn’t pick up the noise, and there are two kinds of people know where they all are, the criminal, and the spy, big brother might watch the masses, but he misses the ones he needs to watch!

“You and Joey take the Ford,” Jacko yanked the handbrake on, they only had seconds before someone suspected something, even in the black spots, there’s a security guard watching who goes into and out of them all the time, anything out of the ordinary and someone will be ‘sent to investigate’ especially here on the motorway where a truck’s entire load can go missing in seconds, “Head for the RV with Smithy, by then he should have info on where those arseholes are, but wait for Mac and me OKAY” he turned and faced Joey, he knew Sandy would wait, Joey was a bit of a different story.

“Gotcha boss” Joey replied as he climbed out of the vehicle, they were leaving the explorer here, the ‘Ford’ was a Grenada Sedan, 2.8 litres of pure mean under the bonnet.

“You drive or me?” Joey asked as they stepped around the vehicles.

“Me” Sandy replied, as she took the keys out of his hand, slotting the remote into her handbag she reached down, turned on the ignition, put the car into gear as Joey clambered in. “we need to be in one piece when we get there!”

“Are you insinuating?” he began.

“That you're a maniac?” she shot back with a cheeky grin, “absolutely” and they took off, wheels spinning.

“And just how do you come to that conclusion?” Joey was starting to relax, there's nothing like humour for relaxing tension.

“Let’s see” Sandy cut him off, they were both laughing slightly, “Jumping out of a bloody aircraft with just a skimpy parachute, Jumping off a cliff with nothing but a darned wingsuit, that was after rigging a bomb to blow half the mountain up, that explains why I’ve come to that conclusion?”

“And I’ll add” he cut her off, “You were right behind me in all those,” he turned and looked at her, she was gorgeous, she glanced his way. “Takes one to know one as they say where I come from!” she gave him a playful dirty look.

Joey reached for the car speaker controls, he’d already enabled the ‘Bluetooth’ on his phone, it meant the phone would make the calls he needed but would play over the car’s speakers and mike system, as soon as he set the controls he spoke, “Call Smithy” within seconds the Geordie accent could be heard over the speakers.

“About bloody time man” it sounded like he’d said “mon” but that was just the accent. “Where are yer?”

“Motorway services on the M5” Joey replied, “heading back in as fast as we can”

That's right, it was 'Smithy' called the shooting in to the Police, he totally screwed up any 'cleanup' that MI6 might have wanted to do, but how much information did they really get, and why would he seemingly sabotage their efforts?

One other thing, I made a reference to a famous British author who painted a gloomy picture of the future where every move is watched by cameras and every conversation recorded, anyone guess who that author was?

There are no prizes for guessing, but if you think you know, leave an answer in the comments below, and why do you think it's that author.

© 2018 Lawrence Hebb