Paths of Courage by Mike Woodhams Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mike Woodhams
traversing the predominantly east-west aspect of the terrain going directly north. When the hour was up Ryder gave the order to move out and the group made its way single-file down the north- facing slope towards the town.
Perched within the bush overlooking the southeastern outskirts of the town, Ryder swept binoculars across rows of single-storey dwellings immediately below, including the main tree-lined thoroughfares beyond leading directly to the bridge. Green, leafy trees stood in stark contrast to the array of grey stone and concrete utilitarian buildings. It was early evening and a watery sun began to dip below the horizon. He scanned the roads and bridge and was surprised at the number of people, bicycles and trucks dotting the roadways. The army personnel were freely mingling with the flow. He knew from the briefings that Sinhung had a population of about 10,000, mostly agricultural workers with the rest working in the chemical factory. But from the number of people and soldiers, he could see that seemed an underestimation; he hoped it would be to their advantage to get lost amongst the crowds.
The bridge itself stood at the head of the two main converging roads. To follow the river and try to cross elsewhere could put days, or possibly weeks, on the mission. The longer they remained in this hostile land, the more likely they would be discovered. He raised his binoculars to take in the mountains beyond. To reach them and continue in a northwesterly direction, the bridge had to be risked; an unnerving prospect. With mixed feelings of apprehension and uncertainty, he gave the order to move out and head for the roadway below.
6
A group of men sat at the long, green-baize-covered table in the Cabinet Room of Number 10, Downing Street, listening to the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service, Sir Jeffery Powell, give his latest report. Next to him sat the Prime Minister, William Maxwell, and across the table sat the Minister of Defence, Michael Trafford; Foreign Secretary, David Regis, and Commander-in-Chief, Fleet Admiral Sir Robert Engels.
â⦠In conclusion, gentlemen, this situation poses a serious threat,â ended Sir Jeffery, removing his glasses and looking intently at each of the others at the table.
A long silence prevailed before the Prime Minister cleared his throat, looking perplexed at the nationâs spy chief. âHow reliable is this new intelligence?â
âExperience tells us â very.â
Another tense silence.
âIf what youâre saying is true, Sir Jeffery, we must act swiftly,â said the PM, breaking the silence. âIt seems to me we have little choice. Al-Qaeda wonât give a damn about hitting targets here or in America â all they want is to rule the world at any price. But would the North Koreans risk the sort of retaliation we would deal them if they were planning to do that?â he questioned, his clear blue eyes conveying dignity and compassion. He had a reputation for a no-nonsense, pragmatic approach.
âThe regime is under pressure over the nuclear issue, despite Kim Jong-Unâs promises,â said Michael Trafford. His heavily hooded brown eyes stared hard at the PM. âThe U.S. has cut aid considerably as we all know. Acute shortage of foreign aid is slowly strangling what little economy they have left. The population is starving. I believe they might well take the risk.â
Sir Jeffery responded. âAccording to the North Korean being held in Seoul, the delivery of the sub and its missiles has taken place; he doesnât know to whom, nor does he know to where. Iâm inclined to believe that, knowing the Korean interrogation methods.â
âThe Americans and ourselves monitor all Russian and Chinese-manufactured submarines capable of firing missiles,â said Engels, a short, dapper man with dark hair greying at the temples. He stood out in his immaculate naval uniform in contrast to the others in sober
Perched within the bush overlooking the southeastern outskirts of the town, Ryder swept binoculars across rows of single-storey dwellings immediately below, including the main tree-lined thoroughfares beyond leading directly to the bridge. Green, leafy trees stood in stark contrast to the array of grey stone and concrete utilitarian buildings. It was early evening and a watery sun began to dip below the horizon. He scanned the roads and bridge and was surprised at the number of people, bicycles and trucks dotting the roadways. The army personnel were freely mingling with the flow. He knew from the briefings that Sinhung had a population of about 10,000, mostly agricultural workers with the rest working in the chemical factory. But from the number of people and soldiers, he could see that seemed an underestimation; he hoped it would be to their advantage to get lost amongst the crowds.
The bridge itself stood at the head of the two main converging roads. To follow the river and try to cross elsewhere could put days, or possibly weeks, on the mission. The longer they remained in this hostile land, the more likely they would be discovered. He raised his binoculars to take in the mountains beyond. To reach them and continue in a northwesterly direction, the bridge had to be risked; an unnerving prospect. With mixed feelings of apprehension and uncertainty, he gave the order to move out and head for the roadway below.
6
A group of men sat at the long, green-baize-covered table in the Cabinet Room of Number 10, Downing Street, listening to the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service, Sir Jeffery Powell, give his latest report. Next to him sat the Prime Minister, William Maxwell, and across the table sat the Minister of Defence, Michael Trafford; Foreign Secretary, David Regis, and Commander-in-Chief, Fleet Admiral Sir Robert Engels.
â⦠In conclusion, gentlemen, this situation poses a serious threat,â ended Sir Jeffery, removing his glasses and looking intently at each of the others at the table.
A long silence prevailed before the Prime Minister cleared his throat, looking perplexed at the nationâs spy chief. âHow reliable is this new intelligence?â
âExperience tells us â very.â
Another tense silence.
âIf what youâre saying is true, Sir Jeffery, we must act swiftly,â said the PM, breaking the silence. âIt seems to me we have little choice. Al-Qaeda wonât give a damn about hitting targets here or in America â all they want is to rule the world at any price. But would the North Koreans risk the sort of retaliation we would deal them if they were planning to do that?â he questioned, his clear blue eyes conveying dignity and compassion. He had a reputation for a no-nonsense, pragmatic approach.
âThe regime is under pressure over the nuclear issue, despite Kim Jong-Unâs promises,â said Michael Trafford. His heavily hooded brown eyes stared hard at the PM. âThe U.S. has cut aid considerably as we all know. Acute shortage of foreign aid is slowly strangling what little economy they have left. The population is starving. I believe they might well take the risk.â
Sir Jeffery responded. âAccording to the North Korean being held in Seoul, the delivery of the sub and its missiles has taken place; he doesnât know to whom, nor does he know to where. Iâm inclined to believe that, knowing the Korean interrogation methods.â
âThe Americans and ourselves monitor all Russian and Chinese-manufactured submarines capable of firing missiles,â said Engels, a short, dapper man with dark hair greying at the temples. He stood out in his immaculate naval uniform in contrast to the others in sober