Read The Sixteen Online

Authors: John Urwin

The Sixteen (12 page)

Dynamo, Chalky and Ken carefully demonstrated and slowly went through this manoeuvre as Dynamo was explaining it all to me.

‘Boy it gets better all the time!’ I said.

‘And it gets even better,’ Chalky told me with a nudge and a wink, ‘but first we have, or rather I should say, you have to keep practising this until you can do it in your sleep.’ They all laughed at this. ‘Then when you have done that, we start with strategy.’

Dynamo began to explain: ‘You see you can’t just walk up to the enemy and take his gun, because obviously it is far more than likely he is going to shoot you the second he sees you! But there are ways to deceive your enemy, it is all psychology. You deceive your opponent by making them feel that there really isn’t any threat and even fool them into believing that they are in full control, when in actual fact you are. Because, Geordie, we need to be able to survive in a high-risk environment.’

‘And such survival must be achieved without weaponry or any form of logistical backup.’ It was Spot who had spoken. Until now, he had remained standing a little apart, quietly observing us while Dynamo, Chalky or Ken gave me instructions and information. I was fascinated by the way each of them was able to continue talking exactly from the point where another had left off. It seemed weird to me the fact that although these men were physically not alike, in their movements, mannerisms, gestures and the way they spoke they appeared to be almost identical.

‘We need to be able to operate effectively on our own and
make use of any locally available resources, Geordie,’ Spot continued. ‘As unarmed combat situations are probably the most stressful situations a SPECOPS operator is likely to face. During such encounters, tunnel vision often occurs and it is difficult, if not impossible, to perform as one should. But we have been programmed to overcome that.

‘The key to survival in any hostile environment that involves close-quarter combat is to have a system that is simple, yet brutally effective, a system, Geordie, that provides us with the maximum chance of success, with the minimal use of physical and mental energy. You see this system can be used to defeat any and every form of attack, whether it be from single or multiple assailants, and we have got that system. So Geordie, every opportunity we get now we have to get you prepared. We are currently expecting to go on a job fairly soon and the best way to train is with the real thing! Our intelligence tells us it’s only a few days away so just think young man, in only a few days your life will change again. You can’t beat the real thing; you will be able to just let yourself go.’

‘Are you sure that I am ready?’

Dynamo slapped me on the back. ‘Oh you are more than ready,’ he told me. ‘Look, we have got the rest of today and tomorrow to teach you some rope work, abseiling and the like before you need to go back to your regular unit.’

‘Oh yeah, that looks great. I have seen that in pictures.’ I was excited and very eager to get on with it.

‘We will spend two or three hours doing that. Then the rest of the time we will use to introduce the “sash” to your conscious brain.’

‘I’ve heard you all mentioning something called “The Sash”. Is it that thing in my kit that looks like a belt?’ I asked.

‘That’s it Geordie, you mean this,’ Spot said, as he walked towards me holding out both hands in front of him, in which he was holding what appeared to be a flat, straight piece of wood with small pieces of metal at either end about an inch-and-a-half wide, just slightly wider than the belt itself, which he now handed to me while he told me: ‘You know, you asked what it was that had cut those turnips to pieces? Well, Geordie, this is what did it, and you see those other turnips hanging over there? You did that when you were asleep, you might say!’ They seemed to find this funny and laughed together briefly.

‘What! You mean that I know how to use this?’ I blurted out in total disbelief.

‘Yes you’re very good with it too, Geordie!’

‘Oh man, this is so hard to take in.’ It was all just so hard to believe and I simply couldn’t get my head around all of what they were telling me. Obviously they saw my bewilderment because Spot patted my shoulder in a friendly gesture of encouragement as he spoke to me:

‘Yes. We know what you mean. We have all been there, too. It’s like waking up in a different world, isn’t it? You’ll know what I mean by that soon because in a few months from now when you have been on a few jobs, as we call them, and killed a few times. It will all seem much clearer to you then. Just put it on,’ he told me. I fitted it around my back and had to use quite a bit of pressure to then pull it forward around my waist in order to fasten it at the front.

‘Don’t forget to put the safety catch on, or else someone might lose their kneecap,’ Dynamo warned me. Looking at them now I realised that each of them was also wearing a similar device around their waists.

‘If I’ve used this before, how come I’m having trouble putting it
on now?’ I asked him. ‘No! Hold on, wait a minute! I know! I am trying to fasten it using the conscious brain!’

‘Yes, Geordie. But they will be working together soon,’ Dynamo said, moving until he stood a couple of yards away from me, grinning broadly. ‘Now, come over here. Let’s refresh your memory.’ With that he slapped at his belt buckle with the palm of his right hand, then there was a rushing, whistling, whip-like sound and the upper half of his body pivoted with amazing speed as suddenly the remaining turnips hanging nearby disintegrated. He turned and took one step towards me; once more I heard the whistling sound in my ears as pictures started to flash off and on in my head: pictures of us training together, something I had no recollection of. I clutched my head in both hands; the pictures stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Dynamo moved again with astonishing speed and immediately a tin mug and bottle, which were standing on a nearby table only inches from my hand, seemed to vanish into thin air.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked after a quick look in my direction. ‘It’s all starting to come back to you now isn’t it? Well that’s great, the more you train the more it will come together. It’s difficult to explain but in a day or two you won’t be able to remember how you were before you met us and you will have some strange dreams tonight, but we have all experienced the same thing. In a few days, when you come back here, you won’t be asking any questions, you will just simply know what to do. Don’t ask us how. Just accept that you will. You’ll be going back to your camp soon. Before you go, there are some more turnips over there just waiting for you.’

‘For me?’

‘Yes that’s right Geordie, just for you.’

I stood for a moment thinking of what he’d said.

‘And this is what you call “The Sash”?’

‘Yes go on! You won’t have to try to do anything, just let it happen.’

I did as Dynamo told me and walked over to where the turnips hung, swaying slightly on their strings.

‘Look at them,’ he ordered, ‘and hit the belt. Go on, just hit the damn thing!’

So I did! Then it sprang free and flew around, right into my waiting hand. It happened alright; I was able to use it to rip those turnips to pieces just as Dynamo said I would! And now I was finally beginning to understand why they called it The Machine. My body had performed a series of powerful robotic-like movements and it felt really wonderful. All they had been explaining to me seemed to come together so rapidly.

I marvelled at the confidence beginning to build up inside me and at my ability to use a devastating weapon like that. The sheer element of surprise and the effect on your enemy when confronted with it would be overwhelming – especially as they would assume they were dealing with an unarmed person. Even if armed themselves they’d be torn to shreds before they’d had time to realise what was happening and use their weapons! I hungered for more. Also, all my initial nervousness and fears on meeting these people had completely gone, I now felt somehow different. I was only too eager to learn and to find out more but I didn’t understand why I felt this way.

All of the weapons they showed me seemed to be for close-combat use and, not for the first time, I wondered who the hell they were and just who had created The Sixteen – and just where exactly did their skills come from? Just then Chalky came over to me from where he had been watching nearby.

‘Okay, Geordie?’ he asked with a smile.

‘Yeah, sure, what other surprises have you got for me?’ I asked in reply.

For the rest of the day I trained with them, going over what I had learned. I was going back in about an hour. All the time I couldn’t help thinking about just what this job they had mentioned might actually be or where it would take place.

At about 1500 hours Ken drove me back to the spot where he had first stopped me and, as promised, there was my truck, and when I opened the driver’s door on the front seat there was a sheaf of paperwork, all in order! Whatever it was that I was supposed to have been doing, someone had done it on my behalf. There would be no awkward questions when I got back to camp. What a relief!

‘When am I coming back?’ I eagerly asked Ken.

‘Just as soon as we get confirmation about that job,’ he told me. ‘But don’t worry about that, we’ll have you back soon. The programming was very successful, but then we had anticipated that.’ Pausing briefly, he smiled at me, and then said, ‘We knew you had the qualities we were looking for. Catch you later!’

With that he spun the jeep around and immediately sped off. I remained where I stood for a moment watching him disappear, before I climbed into the truck. And as I drove off I began to think again about who could be behind all of this and how come I had been allowed to drive around without an escort! What are they training me up for, I wondered? What was I going to say when I got back to camp? How would I be able to explain my absence? I was very eager to get back to camp now to tell someone about what had happened. Then suddenly it struck me! Obviously, I couldn’t tell anyone where I had been or what I had been doing. For a start no one would believe me, I scarcely believed it myself!

I drove off in the direction of the camp, unsure of the reception I would receive on my return, and after about twenty minutes I saw 518 Camp in the distance. The guards on the gates were
stopping other vehicles, examining their paperwork and checking for explosives as they always did. As I sat there in the queue I felt a sudden acute pain like an electric shock run up the back of my neck into my head and I realised that I was gripping the steering wheel with all of my strength as a series of bright vivid images and pictures flashed through my head.

This weird sensation carried on for a few seconds more. I didn’t think they would come so soon; I thought the strange flashback might happen when I was asleep. Suddenly it stopped and I was eventually able to relax my grip on the wheel and slump back in the seat. Gasping while thinking ‘what the hell was that?’ I took in a long deep breath then leaned out of the window and shouted, ‘For heaven’s sake get a move on!’ Suddenly my body was racked by a violent cold shiver that stopped just as quickly as it came on. The guard stared at me angrily as he marched over to me.

‘Hey, get a move on!’ Again I yelled loudly in frustration at the vehicles in front, something I would never have previously dared to do and I could hardly believe that I had just done it now! The two officers in the staff car turned around and glared at me – but for some reason I just didn’t give a toss. I couldn’t have cared less even when the guard came over.

‘Now then, what’s all this racket? Just who the hell are you shouting at?’ he loudly demanded. ‘Oh it’s you is it, Geordie? You’re back early! Don’t you see who is sitting in that staff car in front of you? Now belt up before you get us both into trouble. Where have you been all week to make you act like this?’ he demanded, before adding, ‘It’s not like you.’

‘A week you said? Are you sure Mike?’

‘Yeah. Well according to these docs you’ve just given me. You’ve been on detachment for five days.’

‘But can you be sure? I can only remember two days!’

He looked at me oddly and then smirked. ‘It’s the heat Geordie. Take two salt tablets and you’ll feel great.’

‘Look at me. Do I look different from the last time you saw me?’

He just shrugged then gave the truck a quick look over and waved me through, adding, ‘Geordie it’s the sun. Stay in your tent over the weekend.’

I took the truck straight back to the depot, handed my papers in and dashed back to my camp to get washed up for my tea. On the way I passed ‘that stupid little sergeant’ crossing the parade ground.

‘Back already, Urwin? I’m gonna have you on latrine duty tomorrow!’ he bellowed as he passed me.

‘That’s what you think! Get stuffed!’ I muttered quietly but audibly, to my own utter amazement. He turned around and stared at me but either hadn’t heard me correctly or pretended not to have, as after a couple of seconds he spun on his heel and walked on. But for the rest of that week he was as good as his word, and had me digging latrines. It was backbreaking work and so dispiriting, as I had absolutely no idea when I would be contacted again, but I couldn’t wait. It was really frustrating, having to go back to camp and pretend nothing had happened to me, yet they had changed my life forever! Yes, hard as it was to believe, in just forty-eight hours they had changed my life forever! Because something else took place at that table, something so bizarre I find it very difficult if not impossible to explain to people. But I know that I had experienced death.

M
y mind was in turmoil for the first few days following my ‘initiation’ process, as I tried to understand and come to terms with just what exactly had taken place. I felt so different, as if a huge barrier had been removed and I was ready to face anything. But I didn’t know why or how someone just talking to me could have changed me so radically. Surely Ken hadn’t slipped something into my tea, had he, I wondered for the umpteenth time? I didn’t think that I would ever fully comprehend just what had happened to me and perhaps that was just as well.

But one thing I did know for sure, the few moves I’d learned from Dynamo, Chalky and Spot in the short space of time I’d been with them were now indelibly engraved on my mind. When Ken had first approached me on the beach, he’d asked if I’d wanted to do something more exciting, but in my wildest dreams, I’d never have thought that he meant anything like this. I was itching to get back and learn more.

Nothing felt real to me anymore, as if I was detached from everything, and I wandered around in a bit of a daze. Unfortunately, this didn’t go unnoticed.

‘What’s the matter, Urwin, dreaming about home again? WAKE UP, LAD!’ the sergeant bawled at me as he passed by.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. That was the last thing on my mind right now. For the first time since we landed here, I wasn’t thinking about home or my family, which just goes to show the effect of Ken’s ‘talk’ because, just like most of the lads, thoughts of home were normally always on my mind.

But now I just couldn’t stop thinking of those moves and that sash. Jesus, I thought, what a weapon! And then there were those strange looking arrowheads. What on earth could they be used for? I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, barely able to wait until the following day.

The sergeant was as good as his word and if there was a hole to be dug, he had me digging it.

He always seemed to be on our backs for one thing or another, and each time he passed us, he made some kind of crack. I wasn’t a religious person but by Friday afternoon, I was almost praying that Ken would pick me up again and soon.

‘Well, enjoyed your week, Geordie?’ the sergeant said, as we finished our work. ‘See you bright and early Monday morning, I’ve got another “cushy little number” lined up especially for you.’ He smirked and strode off.

Bill, who was in the working party with me, overheard him. ‘By ’eck, Geordie, you’re popular. ’Ee must really like you, ’e dun’t do that for everyone!’ he joked.

‘That’s right, you can see I’m one of his favourites from all the “special” treatment he’s giving me,’ I laughed back.

‘Miserable sod!’ grumbled another lad. ‘He’s probably just got a “Dear John” letter from home.’

‘Nah, it’s ’is piles playing ’im up!’ Bill sniggered.

‘Yeah and he’s taking it out on me. Still, I can’t do anything about it. I’ll just have to put up with it.’

‘It keeps him happy, Geordie!’ Bill said.

‘Aye, well, if he’s not careful this hole’ll be six-feet deep, specially dug just for him.’

It was easy to think that the sergeant had it in for me, but he didn’t really, he was just a typical sergeant; they all seemed to get some kind of kick from constantly shouting and screaming at us all the time.

During the week and over the weekend whenever the lads went off to the NAAFI and I was left on my own, I secretly practised the moves Chalky and the others had shown me. From what they said, I knew that one day my life was going to depend on my ability to perform these movements. I was incredibly proud that these guys had chosen me and I was determined not to let them down, I wanted to be really good at the moves before they picked me up for training again, whenever that might be.

On Monday morning I stood on parade with my fingers crossed, hoping I’d be sent out of the camp again and, if I were, that they would be waiting to pick me up once more. I thought that if I had to spend another week with that sergeant screaming at me I’d end up practising the moves on him! The officer on parade shouted out various names and assigned duties, until eventually there were just four of us left. But, as everyone else so far had been assigned to working parties outside, my heart sank and I gave up any hope of being sent out too. The sergeant called us over and looked down at his sheet.

‘This can’t be right,’ he muttered, checking down the list of names. ‘Everybody can’t be working out of camp. Wait here you lot,’ he ordered and marched over the parade ground to Captain
Myers. He began pointing at the sheet then over at us and from where we stood it looked as though they were having a pretty heated discussion. Suddenly the officer shouted at the sergeant, who immediately came to attention, saluted, spun around and came tearing back towards us, his face all red and puffed up. He looked as though he was about to burst into flames.

‘Right,’ he screamed. ‘You three are going to Famagusta and you, Urwin, you’re assigned to a camp just outside Limassol. NOW MOVE YOURSELVES! Get on that truck, Urwin!’ He seemed furious to have to send me out on a working party but I couldn’t get into the back of the truck quickly enough and I grinned and waved at him as we drove off. Brilliant, I thought, I’m going to be on my own, this could be it!

‘Sorry about that surprise you had lined up for me, Sarge,’ I shouted cheekily. ‘Maybe next time, eh?’

He glared at me. ‘Don’t forget, Urwin, you’re here for a long time. You can’t avoid me forever!’ he bawled, and then strode off, shouting and screaming at everyone he met.

Captain Myers was still standing on the parade ground and as our truck drove off towards the gate, he turned and stood looking at me. Then, to my surprise, he slowly smiled and nodded. What’s all that about, I wondered? Surely he can’t have anything to do with ‘The Sixteen’, can he?

As we drove along, I thought about the possibility of it. Perhaps someone at my camp would have to know, otherwise how else could it be arranged for me to get outside assignments when it suited Ken and the others? But who could it be? Captain Myers or maybe Lieutenant Stevens? I thought of the many possibilities among the various officers and NCOs – but none of them immediately sprang to mind as a likely candidate.

We had only driven for a short way towards Limassol, when
my thoughts were interrupted as the truck stopped abruptly at a crossroads just outside the town and the corporal shouted my name. I jumped out of the back and went to where he was leaning through the cab window.

‘OK, Geordie, the camp’s just down that road a bit, you can’t miss it!’ he told me.

I looked along the deserted track where he pointed. ‘What am I supposed to be doing there?’ I asked.

‘How the hell do I know, just report to the gatehouse, it’s orders. Here!’ he said, shoving some papers into my hand. ‘We’ll pick you up here again 1600 hours on Friday. Have fun!’ He banged his hand on the outside of the door and the truck immediately drove off.

I stood watching for a moment as it speedily disappeared, then turned to walk in the direction he’d pointed and there, to my surprise was a jeep and in it sat Chalky, grinning from ear to ear. I had neither seen nor heard him arrive.

‘Hi, Geordie, hop in!’ he said cheerfully.

‘Bloody hell! Where did you spring from?’ I asked as he spun the jeep around and we shot along the track.

‘Remember, Ken’s little poem, Geordie, “I saw a man who wasn’t there…”? Only believe half of what you see!’ he said, enigmatically referring to something Ken had told me when summing up how

‘The Sixteen’ operated. It went like this:

‘I saw a man who wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there again today,

I wish that man would go away.’

As I hadn’t been out of the camp very much since I’d arrived in Cyprus, the route Chalky took as we left the main road and headed towards the hills was totally unfamiliar to me. It was mainly unpopulated, the dry and barren, scrubby hills having only
an odd tree dotted about here and there, but that was all it had in common with the route Ken had taken.

Like Ken, Chalky drove at breakneck speed for about half an hour as I clung on, desperately trying to avoid being flung out of the jeep. Gradually I thought that some bits of scenery were beginning to look vaguely familiar and then, as we rounded the base of one of the hills, I realised where we were. Once again, I was at the dilapidated old hut they used for their training purposes but we’d arrived by a totally different route.

Chalky didn’t check his speed but drove straight up to the building, braking at the very last moment. We skidded to an abrupt halt in a cloud of dust and dirt, mere inches from the rusting old door and scattering several lizards, some of them about a foot long, which had been basking in the sun nearby. As before, the place appeared to be deserted.

Then Chalky immediately grabbed what was left of the windscreen and to my surprise, vaulted straight over it onto the jeep’s much-dented bonnet.

‘Come on, Geordie, don’t just sit there getting a tan! There’s work to be done,’ he laughed over his shoulder, then disappeared inside the building. I quickly followed him in, my eyes taking a couple of seconds to adjust from the darkness in contrast to the glare outside.

Dynamo and Spot were already training and I stood watching them for a few minutes, totally fascinated, taking in every move they made. It was amazing, and I didn’t want to miss a thing. Their actions were so smooth, so accurate, now I could see why they called it ‘The Machine’. It was incredible to watch, I wanted to be just like them and was determined that nothing was going to stop me!

From the way they were together, I realised that they knew each other fairly well and I suspected that they had worked together for
some time, but I still knew nothing at all about them, only their nicknames. I didn’t know where they normally served or who with (if in fact they did), what their full names were, whether they were married or even what part of Britain they came from because they constantly changed their accents! All I knew was that I, for some reason, had been specially chosen to become the fourth part of this particular team, which in itself was part of ‘The Sixteen’, none of whom I had met yet, other than Ken.

I stood there watching them, looking around, taking everything in, then Dynamo stopped what he was doing and came over to me.

‘Right, Geordie, come and have a seat and a cup of tea and I’ll put you in the picture on how we do things around here.’

I followed him over to a small old table and did as he suggested.

‘As you’ve probably been told,’ he said, smiling, ‘we’re a covert unit, and I mean just that, we’ve been very successful so far and what makes this possible is that only a handful of select people know of our existence. It is these people who make it possible for us to operate, do you understand?’

I nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Good! Ken told you that as soon as you started your training we would begin to explain what we do and why. Well, as you can see we’re obviously not a dancing club!’ He smiled. ‘We’re a group of sixteen men trained in a specific, unique way who currently operate throughout the Middle East; you could say that this is a training ground for us, but I’ll tell you more about that later. We mostly operate in fours and we were three until now – you are the fourth. Don’t ask how we became three!’ He grinned, stopping me as the words formed on my lips.

He paused and drank some more of his tea, then stared at me briefly for a moment before continuing quietly.

‘You could say that we are assassins, for want of a better word.
We carry out the operations that armies and governments can’t be seen to do. We belong to no country, or rather no country will acknowledge our existence, if you know what I mean.’

Again, I nodded. Although it was what I’d suspected, it still came as a bit of a shock to hear him say it out loud. My mother had told me to join the army to see the world and better myself but I don’t think she had quite meant it in this way!

‘So, Geordie,’ he continued, ‘to all intents and purposes, you’re still just a private in the Pioneer Corps, nobody is ever going to believe otherwise and that’s exactly how we want it. No matter what you do with us, or how successful we are, there will be no recognition of it. If anything should happen to go badly wrong on any of our operations…’ he paused briefly and looked at me very directly, ‘and I think you know what I mean by that, old boy!’

‘Yes, I think so. No one would acknowledge me, I’d be classed as a deserter or something, is that it?’

‘Yes, something like that. Remember, because this is important: this unit does not exist, we do not exist, and you do not exist.’ He paused again for a moment then continued: ‘You can still back out, it’s not too late,’ he warned, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. ‘But once we’ve trained you, I’m afraid that’s it, so this is the point of no return. What’s it going to be?’

‘Back out? Not on your life! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!’ I said emphatically. ‘I’m certainly going nowhere with the outfit I’m in, just digging flaming holes, pitching tents and being screamed at for the rest of my time here.’

‘OK, then, but there is something else you need to consider. We’re not going to put you through all of this training for nothing. We’ll need you to become a regular, so you’ll have to think about signing on for at least another three years. Don’t worry too much about it at the moment, we’ll tell you when.’

I hadn’t expected that. ‘If I do, would I be able to get some leave to go home and see my family?’ I asked.

‘Yes, of course you would, don’t worry about that now though, we’d arrange that later on.’

‘Dynamo?’ I interrupted him. ‘Before I start on this training, can I ask you something?’

‘Yeah, sure, what do you want to know?’

‘You all knew what I would say before I said it didn’t you? You knew I wouldn’t say no after what I saw that day?’

‘Yes, of course! It’s like I said, we know you, Geordie, and we know all about you, even more than you know about yourself! We wouldn’t have gone even this far if we thought there was the slightest chance that you would back out. I know it must seem confusing to you right now but it will all become clear through time, just wait and see.’

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