One Last Time Read online

  ONE

  LAST

  TIME

  By James Hampson

  ONE LAST TIME 9781087047577

  Copyright © James Hampson 2019

  James Hampson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher (Author), except as permitted by U.S./UK copyright law. For permissions contact:

  James Hampson at [email protected]

  Cover by James Hampson

  ISBN: 9781087047577

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my family for all of their support during the process of writing this novel. To Ashley my fiancé, thank you for all your support and contributions.

  To my Mum and Dad, thank you for believing in me when others didn’t.

  To Simon Edwards, thank you for your input in regards to editing and continued support throughout writing this novel.

  And finally, to my son Lucas for constantly bringing a smile to my face during moments of writer's block.

  For all of my family and friends

  ONE

  Basra, Iraq. May 2005

  It was a hot and humid night in southern Iraq; the sky was bathed in orange as flames raged across the city of Basra. Basra Airfield was under attack from Iraqi insurgents who were using RPG’S, mortars and small arms fire to attack the British held air base. Heavy artillery returned fire from within the base to try and suppress the insurgents and RAF Tornado GR4s’ dropped ordnance on various targets across the city.

  Nineteen miles away along the banks of the Shatt-Al-Arab River, Royal Air Force Intelligence Officer Flight Lieutenant James Shaw squeezed the trigger of his Sig Sauer P226 9mm into the side of Saudi Born Terrorist Ali Bin Rashid’s Head, spraying blood and brain matter into the air like a red and pink mist. Shaw grabbed the manila envelope he had given Rashid moments earlier out of his now limp hand and tucked it inside his Osprey Body armour along with the envelope Bin Rashid had given him in the earlier exchange, he kicked the body down the bank into the smooth flowing river, holstered his weapon and climbed back into his Land Rover.

  Ibrahim Kasim witnessed this from across the river and pulled his Mobile phone out of his pocket to make a call.

  Flight Lieutenant James Shaw sat in his Land Rover in a state of shock, Ali bin Rashid was the first person he had ever killed but it was a job that had to be done to save the lives of millions of people. He fumbled through his pockets for his cigarettes, put one in his mouth, lit it and inhaled then exhaled before throwing it out of the window, he then lit another one and started the big diesel V8 of his Land Rover. Driving in the direction of Saddam Hussein’s presidential palace eleven miles away from his current location, where the British Army were based, as the airbase was on lockdown due to the insurgent attacks. Twenty minutes later he arrived at the gates and showed the guard on the gate his ID card which had him down as 183cm tall, born in 1980 and his photograph. The guard directed him to the main car park and told him where he could go for some rest.

  Shaw stepped out of the Land Rover and walked towards the palace. James Shaw was six-foot-tall with broad shoulders, not slim, not fat somewhere in between with natural muscle, he had icy blue eyes, was naturally good looking, some would say very handsome and light brown hair cut short which had started to go blonde in the sun. An Army Captain came out to greet Shaw and showed him to the officer’s mess. Shaw thanked him for his hospitality.

  They both sat down and drank some tea, discussing the current situation in Iraq and the events of the last few nights before Shaw once again thanked the Captain for his hospitality before he retired for the evening.

  As he lay in bed wide awake playing over and over again in his head what had happened that night, his thoughts drifted to six weeks previously, when he had first stepped off the plane in Iraq. As he walked down the cargo ramp of the RAF Hercules, he was greeted by his predecessor and friend Flight Lieutenant William Ramsey. Shaw and Ramsey had gone through officer training at RAF Cranwell and then Intelligence training with each other and had remained friends since. Flight Lieutenant Ramsey handed over command to him explaining the current situation, what the job entailed and introduced him to the staff that would be working under his command. Once the handover had been completed a few days later and Flight Lieutenant Ramsey had boarded his flight back to the UK there was a knock on the door of the intelligence office, which was a portacabin turned in to an office and it was located to the north of the runway at Basra Air Base.

  Corporal Brown, a short skinny man from Yorkshire answered the door to a man who looked to be about five foot eight inches tall, brown hair, brown eyes, Arabic looking, in scruffy clothes and carrying a briefcase, he introduced himself as Lawrence Sharif from MI6 and asked to speak to the commanding officer. Corporal Brown invited him in and knocked on Flight Lieutenant Shaw's inner office door and introduced the two men to each other.

  ‘Thank you Corporal’ Shaw said.

  He shut the door before offering Lawrence a seat and a cup of tea which he accepted. The two men exchanged pleasantries and commented on the heat before Shaw asked.

  ‘What can I help you with? I presume you knew my predecessor Flight Lieutenant Ramsey?’ ‘Yes, we had weekly briefings, amongst other things, good man and a very good officer.’

  Lawrence Sharif then opened the clasps on his briefcase and took out a buff coloured case file and handed it to Shaw.

  ‘Have a read through this. I am going to get something to eat and I will be back in 30 minutes to discuss it with you.’

  James Shaw replied ‘Right ok, see you soon.’

  He was not really sure what else to say back to Sharif.

  Shaw got up from his chair and left his side office stepping into the main office and asked Corporal Brown what he knew about this Lawrence chap and did he pay regular visits to the intelligence office. The Corporal replied that he dropped in once a week, normally with the same briefcase and two weeks ago had assigned him to monitor a known terrorist named Ali Bin Rashid's communications, which he had done.

  Shaw thanked him and asked ‘Can you make sure that all of the staff are here at 1900hrs tonight, I want to meet you all together and get to know you a bit better and to see how you do things out here. Also, to address any concerns anybody may have.’

  ‘Yes Sir’ Corporal Brown replied.

  Flight Lieutenant Shaw then turned back in to his office, he sat down, picked up the folder left by Lawrence and opened it up. It contained information about the same Ali Bin Rashid that Corporal Brown had mentioned and also about a United Nations Convoy moving Weapons of Mass destruction from Baghdad to Basra, that were due to be shipped off shore and destroyed in around six weeks' time at an undisclosed location.

  Lawrence Sharif then returned to the office forty minutes after he had left.

  ‘Did you read the file?’

  ‘Yes, what is it that you want me to help with?’

  ‘Well as you can imagine, Mr Rashid would like to get hold of weapons that are able to inflict the most damage, which he believes the UN have.’

  ‘And do they?’ Shaw asked.

  Sharif didn’t answer.

  He went on to explain that he had infiltrated this certain extremist group two years ago and that he was highly respected by all of its members. He also went on to add that he had informed Ali Bin Rashid he had managed to get a British officer to co-operate with him by handing over information relating to the weapons of mass destruction after thr
eatening his family.

  James Shaw asked ‘Who is the officer?’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘Have you threatened my family?!’

  ‘Of course, I haven’t, but Rashid doesn’t know that. All he knows is, in six weeks a convoy is transporting these weapons from one part of the country to another and that you are the one who will be providing him with the plans of the convoy route. He believes you are doing this to protect your family.’

  Shaw let out an exasperated sigh and stood up from his chair picking up his Sun hat along with his sunglasses off the office desk.

  ‘I need a smoke; shall we continue this outside?’

  ‘Yes, there are some fold out chairs behind this block, we should have some privacy there’ Sharif said.

  The two men left the office and walked around the back of the building where they found two camping style chairs and sat themselves down. Shaw opened the pocket on the left-hand side of his desert pattern shirt and pulled out his cigarettes and lighter, offering one to Lawrence who accepted. They sat there smoking and Shaw asked.

  ‘So, what do I have to do, meet this Rashid chap, give him the plans and just walk away? and why didn’t you ask Will Ramsey to do this?’

  Lawrence ignored the latter and replied to the former ‘More or less.’

  ‘I see, it sounds straightforward, are you sure that’s all it is?’ asked Shaw.

  ‘In response to your earlier question, as to why we didn’t ask Flight Lieutenant Ramsey to do this, I have studied your file from when you first arrived at RAF Cranwell five years ago as a fresh faced Twenty year old up until you left RAF Waddington a few days ago and it appears that you have an aptitude for small arms weaponry along with hand to hand combat amongst other things, it also says that you are a natural leader and judging from your annual assessments you will be promoted to Squadron Leader before long.’

  ‘Someone has done their homework, now stop beating around the bush and tell me what it is that you want’ Shaw said whilst taking out another two cigarettes, which both men lit and started smoking again.

  Lawrence exhaled on his cigarette and said.

  ‘This has come from the top and you have been selected for it due to your skills and obviously the job you are doing out here, after the exchange with Ali Bin Rashid you need to terminate him.’

  In his soft Liverpudlian accent James Shaw retorted.

  ‘Terminate, you mean to say you want me to KILL this man?’

  ‘Yes, that is exactly what you need to do, this man is dangerous not just to Iraq and Iraqis but the world as a whole, this is the only way to get to him, he is always on the move so he cannot be taken out by air, if I took him out his body guards would kill me in seconds thus blowing mine and other operatives cover. It took a lot of persuasion from me to get him to meet with you alone, you have to do this James and only you have the skills and access to do it.’

  ‘I am an intelligence officer I never expected this, I have never fired a shot in anger, only ever on the range and during exercises’ Shaw said.

  ‘Well, it is time to put all that practice to use, don’t worry it will be fine, I will talk you through it all before hand, every last detail from you taking the documents off your desk to you coming back here after it is done.’

  James Shaw sat there in shock, wondering what on earth he had gotten himself involved in. He said to Lawrence about a minute later.

  ‘I will do it, just as long as you promise to go through it all with me.’

  Lawrence Sharif held his hand out and said.

  ‘You will get all the help you need.’

  Shaw shook his hand, he then took out another cigarette from his packet and crumpled the empty packet in his hand and placed it in the cup holder of his chair, he then reached into another pocket bringing out a new packet of cigarettes and offered one to Lawrence who took one and said ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Is Lawrence your real name or is that a cover?’ James asked.

  Lawrence answered ‘Yes, it is, my great great-grandfather was from Hejaz, which is now part of Saudi Arabia, he worked with Prince Faisal as an advisor of sorts and he fought alongside a certain man named T.E Lawrence against the Ottoman Turks during the First World War, perhaps you have heard of him?’

  ‘Of course, I have’ James replied.

  ‘Well he was a very good friend of my great great-Grandfather, together they destroyed the Hejaz railway and rode into Damascus at the end of the war. Then after the war he moved to England with my great great-Grandmother and they had a son and named him Lawrence, after the great man and since then all the males in my family have been named Lawrence as a tribute for all the things he did to help, not just my family but the entire region during the war.’

  ‘I have seen the film Lawrence of Arabia it’s a great film and of course I have read Seven pillars of wisdom and here you are sat with me in Iraq, named after the great man who the film is about, you must have some stories to tell that have been passed down, shame how he died. What a bizarre day this has been. What is it that you do here anyway and what if this Ali Bin Rashid or his men spot you coming into our base?’

  Lawrence pulled a lanyard from around his neck with his photo on, it had the name Ibrahim Kasim and the job title domestic services.

  ‘So, they think you are a cleaner?’ Shaw asked.

  ‘That’s right, so I am a double agent if you like. So, James what's your story and background obviously I have read your file but I would like to get to know you better’ Lawrence said.

  'Well as you know I joined the RAF five years ago, before that I had a gap year backpacking around Spain and Italy after finishing my A levels at Merchant Taylors School, just outside of Liverpool. My Father was a Captain in the Royal Navy, he left the Navy when I was ten years old, he then went to work for a merchant shipping company in Liverpool. Quite a chilled-out guy the old man, he encouraged me to join the Military. I always thought the RAF seemed the most attractive compared to the Army and Navy, hence why I am here today. My Mother is a trained nurse. I still don't know how she managed to work and still have my brother and I ready for school with packed lunches and all, she was always there to pick us up from school too, she is the head nurse now at a local hospital. My brother as you probably know is five years younger than me and is currently at Lympstone training to be a Royal Marines Commando officer.'

  Sharif said nothing and just nodded.

  'I am not married, no current girlfriend and I enjoy my sports and holidays, that’s pretty much it really.’

  'It sounds like you have had a good life so far, your career is going well. I heard that you were going out with a girl named Claire and just to reassure you nobody has threatened your family. I just had to say that for this plan to fall into place' Lawrence said with a smile.

  Shaw stood up from his chair and said.

  'That is good to hear. Claire and I have been out on occasions, nothing serious though. I am meeting all of my staff at 1900 so I best go and get prepared for that, then I will go have a beer and try to make sense of all of this madness.'

  Sharif agreed with him and said he would see him tomorrow and walked off towards his car. Shaw waved him off, shook his head in bewilderment and walked back to his office for the meeting with his staff.

  At the presidential palace; Flight Lieutenant James Shaw was awoken by the sound of people talking and walking outside of his room ready for the day ahead. He stretched and yawned then leant across to grab his watch off the nightstand, he looked at it and it read seven thirty.

  ‘Shit’ He said out loud.

  He was supposed to be in work for 0800hrs but the previous night's events had taken its toll on him. Quickly he got dressed and made sure that he had all of his equipment, he left the room and walked along the corridor, then down the stairs where he spotted the Captain who had looked after him the night before and thanked him again for all his help, they saluted each other and Shaw walked out to his Land Rover so that he could drive back to Basra Airbase a
nd then to his office to meet with Lawrence Sharif. The sun, even at such an early hour was scorching hot and the inside of Shaw's Land Rover was like a furnace, he put his gloves on so as not to burn his hands on the steering wheel, wound down both windows and started the engine and set off for the airfield.

  Thirty minutes later he had parked up and went straight into the air-conditioned office and said good morning to Corporal Brown and the two SAC's (Senior Aircraftsmen) before he went in to his inner office. He put his helmet on top of the four-drawer filing cabinet and started his computer up before walking back in to the main office and taking a bottle of water out of the fridge. He was having a chat and a laugh with his staff, then there was a knock at the door. The staff switched all the screens off for security reasons, then Corporal Brown opened the door to the cleaner with his cleaning cart which he wheeled into the office and took his cap off, it was Lawrence Sharif. He said good morning to everybody then he and James went into the inner office. The two men sat there in the cool office with Shaw at his desk and Lawrence on the visitors chair next to the filing cabinet.

  ‘How do you think last night went then?' Lawrence asked.

  ‘I honestly don't know how I did it, it just seemed natural, weird really.’

  'A job well done I would say; the exchange went well then in an instant he was in a heap on the floor. I watched you from the other side of the river just to make sure that you went through with it and to let my superiors know when it was done' said Lawrence.

  ‘So, this has come from the top then?'

  'Yes, the very top, you did a good thing.’

  Shaw picked the two manila envelopes off of his desk and handed them over to Lawrence.

  'These are for you.'

  Lawrence opened one of the envelopes and pulled the plans for the convoy half way out, he flicked through them and placed them back inside before closing the envelope. He handed the other envelope to James.