Globusz^® Publishing 

haun had thought about running, but with no passport and very little money, where was he to run to? The previous day he had walked the city checking constantly to see if he had a tail. Occasionally he thought he had seen someone but then they disappeared. Eventually he decided that if he had a tail it was being done very cleverly with several people and quite correctly he didn’t believe he was worth that amount of effort, at the moment.

‘Best wait a while, generate a little trust, maybe get some money and see if I can beg borrow or steal a passport. Of course it all depends on what the job is that that Fidel wants me for.’ He had found him self a place, the top two rooms of a house in the poorer quarter of the city and not far from the river. The advance for this had taken most of his money but at least he had a base and last night had found a half decent eatery near by. In the morning of the second day he waited until after 9 o’clock, in case Fidel was a late sleeper then, finding a public phone at the corner of the street, he dialled the number Fidel had given him.

“Fidel? Shaun here... You asked me to give you a ring today.”

“Brian, good to hear from you. Have you found somewhere to stay?”

“Yes I have a small place down by the port. It’s not much but at least it is clean.”

“Good! Give me the address and I’ll meet you there in an hour and we can talk business.”

Fidel tore off a sheet from his pad and wrote the address down before slipping the phone into his jacket pocket. Then after getting a city road map he checked where the address was. Convenient! Not too far from his office... In fact... He got up from his chair and walked to the window. ‘It would be about there, behind that larger building, only half a mile away.’ He crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it in the waste basket before thinking better of it and retrieving the paper, burnt it in his ashtray.

An hour later Fidel was sitting across the table from ‘Brian’ who was making a case for an advance of payment. “You know how much money I had,” he commented. “You searched me and my bags. Well the advance on this place has taken all of that and now I need some money to live on.”

“Si! We will come to that. First let us go for a walk, down by the river I think.”

Fidel now found him self in a dilemma. If he told him the target it would give ‘Brian’ a hold over him. But if he didn’t tell him the target, he could not work out how to blow it up. He decided he had to plunge in. After all he still held the power of life and death over ‘Brian’ in the shape of the Spanish authorities if not more directly. They were soon on the street and began walking down towards the Rio Milagro. “You know about explosives. Yes? What would you need to blow up a concrete and steel structure? What is the best form of explosive for that?”

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know, I thought you were an expert in blowing things up?”

Shaun decided to try and assert him self, he stopped walking forcing Fidel to stop and face him. “Look Fidel. You want something blown up. Well you have to trust me. It’s no use telling me bits and pieces and expecting me to second guess the rest. What? When? Where? I don’t need to know why, but I need plans, design plans preferably. I have to work out the forces involved and then and only then can I work out how best to bring down the building.” ‘Brian’ was carefully watching Fidel’s face as he said this, waiting for some reaction. The reference to a building caught Fidel unawares and a slight smile twitched at the corners of his mouth only for it to be immediately banished.

Shaun, though not a student of human behaviour, correctly interpreted the twitch of a smile. ‘So it probably wasn’t a building, then it must be a bridge... steel and concrete.’ All this quickly flashed through his mind as Fidel thought over what had been said whilst trying to make up his mind. Shaun, realising suddenly that he had the upper hand, said nothing more but turned and resumed their walk.

“It’s not a building. We believe some terrorists are planning to blow up... something important. We need to know how they would do it,” said Fidel, after a long pause.

“What is this ‘something important’ then, a bridge? How can you expect me to give an opinion if I don’t know what the hell you are talking about?”

Fidel demurred some more before he came to the only solution. As ‘Brian’ had said, it was all or nothing. Nearly all that is. “We believe that they are going to attempt to blow up a dam.”

“A dam! Forget it! Fidel. It’s all talk, they are not going to blow up a dam. Believe me the amount of explosive they would need is just too much. All you need do is check all the lorries that come near the dam. If the whole damn lorry isn’t full of explosive then it won’t be blown up. And even if a lorry did arrive full of explosive, they would have to get it in the right place before setting it off. Blow a dam!” He said contemptuously. – “Those things are solid, built into solid rock. Designed to hold back tons, millions of tons of water. Believe me it won’t get blown up unless you are missing a small atom bomb, or something on that scale.”

Fidel looked thoughtful for a moment. “This is a special dam, just been completed.”

“It’s still a dam. A great big solid lump of immovable concrete. You would need tons and tons of explosive... The Brits blew a couple of German dams during the last war and they needed two or three very special five ton bombs for each dam.”

“So you are saying you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t blow a dam?”

“No! I’m not saying it couldn’t be done, given enough explosive and enough time both to plan it and set the explosive.” Shaun began to look thoughtful. ‘This isn’t a hypothesis; this guy wants me to blow a dam. He may blame it on terrorists afterwards but he wants me to do it... Hell! This is the big league... I’ll have to play along for a while and see what else he has.’

They arrived on the bank of the Rio Milagro and sat down on a wall. Very little behind them, open space in front so they couldn’t be overheard. Fidel reached down, undoing the clasp of his brief-case, he pulled out a large folded sheet of paper. Unfolding the paper he spread it out across their knees with a flourish whilst leaving the right edge folded under. Even this slight cover up was destined to evade him as the slight breeze caught the corner and flipped it over exposing it to Shaun’s gaze. In the top right hand corner was a square proclaiming. ‘La Presa Milagro’ and underneath in smaller type ‘The Milagro Dam’. “Have a look, what do you think? Could you blow it?” With this question any pretence that he wanted to stop terrorists also disappeared.

Shaun looked at the plans. He first looked for the overall dimensions to gauge the size, and then drew in his breath, a slight hiss through his teeth. “This is impressive; the height is 132 meters and 293 meters across at the top. That's quite big! The thickness varies from 22 meters at the very base to 4 meters at the rim... Wow! That will need a big bang... Hang on a minute... It’s hollow.” He looked up at Fidel. “It’s hollow... Why is it hollow?” Again he looked at the drawing and started to study it with great interest, forgetting Fidel was there and even where they were. Several minutes passed before he looked up, a vacant expression on his face. Another moment and he realised Fidel was still there, looking about and making sure no one was paying any attention to them.

“I need a more detailed look at this drawing and especially these cross girders, you have more detailed plans that I can look at?”

“I have access to all the plans, which do you need? I can’t bring them all there are too many.”

“Leave this with me and get me plans of the steel cross bracing in the middle, plus these plugs, the joints to one of the buttresses... How full is the dam? How much water is there? No ... not how much, what is the depth? It is easiest to measure the water level below the rim. When it is full the water level should be only 1.5 meters below the top.”

“I can’t leave this plan. You will have to make whatever notes you require then I will take it back. But I will not leave the plans, they may be missed. As to the water level, it is well down, the rains have not been too heavy and some of the water has been wasted. So it is possible to lower explosive well down the face of the dam before it reaches the water.”

“No! That’s not good. We need as much water in the dam as possible. And I need the plans.”

The fact that he had said ‘we need’ was not lost on Fidel. ‘Brian’ was on board. For one reason or another he had a conspirator. “These plans! No! You have to make your own copy. But why do you wish for more water, then you will only be able to blow the very top of the dam.”

“Fidel, the water is the force to break it. The explosive, that is only to crack it, to weaken it enough for the water to do its work. Without the water you need more explosive.”

“I see. Then you can do it?”

“It depends on how much explosive you can get and what I see in the plans. I will have to do some work. And I have to eat and buy some supplies so I need money. Can you bring this plan back this afternoon and the others I asked for?”

“Si! I will come back... not this afternoon. Tomorrow, at the same time.” Fidel carefully folded the plan and put it back in the brief-case before opening his wallet. “Here is some money to be going on with. I will be back tomorrow about 10 o’clock. Get some paper and pens so you can copy the plans and anything else you may need. I will see you then.”

Another minute and Shaun was alone again. ‘This guy certainly doesn’t like long meetings. Now the money.’ He counted it out then did some mental arithmetic, converting it first to Euros then to the now obsolete Irish Punt. Generous but by no means extravagant. I’ll need a lot more than this. When I got the explosive maybe I could blow a safe and get more. Preferably Fidel’s safe and get my passports at the same time, better still if Fidel were sitting on the safe at the time. Next time I see him I’ll have to follow him. Find out where his home base is... Meanwhile how does one blow a dam?’

* * *

Peter Drew and Miguel sat in the dust leaning against the fence of the bamboo store. It was a good place they couldn’t be overheard and could see anyone approaching from several yards off.

“There must be a way of getting onto that roof.” Drew was saying. “Can you not hang out of the window and swing across, use the roof gutter as additional support?”

Miguel quickly countered this suggestion. “Is not possible, the distance to far. La lluvia tuberia... la gutter is not strong.”

“Yeah! You’re right Miguel the gutter doesn’t look strong enough.”

“Can we get a rope? I would only need a short one. Just to get half way to the ground.”

Drew gave Peter a sharp look. “A rope! Then what would you do? You still have to get through the fence and up onto the roof.”

“Look if we use two sheets and I lower myself out of the window I get a foot on the lower window sill and down to the ground.” Peter pulled tentatively at the wire fence before continuing. “If we loosen the fence in the corner I could squeeze through into the bamboo store. Those bamboo poles look long enough for me to shin up one or two and onto the flat roof. From there it should be a dodle.”

Drew looked sceptical. He measured the poles with his eye, one or two may be long enough but it would be a close call when they were propped against the wash-room wall. “What happens if you can’t make it, if you don’t get onto the roof? The door may be locked and you can’t get it open. And if you do you still have to shift one of the panels? You have to be able to get back inside.”

“Si! And what about the guards and their big dog? It will sniff you out and bite off your leg.”

“Hardly that. I will just put up my hands and say I wanted some fresh air.”

“Si! Then they will give some fresh air to the Lady.”

“Shit! I’d forgotten about that.” Peter paused a moment thinking. “Okay! We have to do this with no risk, or very little risk. Agreed I have to have a way back. We will need a lookout for the guard and a way of signalling to me that one is coming. And I will need tools to open the door and to remove a ceiling panel... Anything else?”

“If I go in your place,” suggested Drew. “As I’m not partnered with anyone it wouldn’t be too serious if they caught me.”

“Good idea Drew. Are you fit enough? Could you climb one of those poles onto the roof?”

“Aah! You have a point. I’ve been a desk jockey too long. Guess what, here comes Helen right on queue... Hi! Helen.”

“Hi! Yourselves, what are you lot plotting?” She asked taking a seat in the dust on her side of the fence.

“Plotting? Us? Would we do such a thing?” Drew answered innocently.

But Peter seeing beyond the banter looked at Helen and raising his eyebrows voiced a question. “Does it look as if we are up to something? ... By the way this is Miguel, he’s one of us.”

Helen glanced around before slipping her hand through the wire and grasped Miguel’s hand. “Hi! Miguel, glad to have you on board. And in answer to your question Peter. Yes! You do appear to be plotting something. Let me guess now.” She paused for dramatic effect holding her forehead. “Is it something to do with the roof, or the flat roof of the wash-rooms?”

This was greeted with stunned silence by all three of them before Drew asked the inevitable question. “Were we that obvious?”

“Relax, the guards weren’t watching. But I didn’t think the architecture that all three of you were looking at was that interesting.”

Peter recovered first, “Okay Guys! Let’s take that as a lesson. If Helen can see it then maybe others can see it too.” He then went on to explain to Helen what they were trying to do. “So you see the problem is we need a rope... and some tools.”

With this Miguel suddenly perked up. “I have the idea. We can make rope. Tools... very difficult. We may have to steal those.”

Peter leant forward and looked at Miguel. “How in hell are we going to make a rope, apart from tying some sheets together that is?”

“Is easy, we plat thin strands of bamboo then twist together. Bamboo very strong, it make a good rope.”

Peter’s mouth fell open in astonishment at this idea. He immediately began thinking how long it would need to be to reach the road. Helen and Drew had also seen the possibilities. Drew voiced them first. “If you can get into the roof void and we can make a long rope. Long enough to reach the road below the wash-rooms. We can escape that way.”

Whoa! One thing at a time Drew. First let’s get into the roof void. We need to get thin strands of bamboo and get them into the dormitory so we can plat them and find out their strength. We can get some strands of rattan as well, that may make a difference to the rope. And we still need tools. The food utensils are all bamboo, and we need a good knife at least.”

Helen, who had been looking around carefully all the while suddenly stood up. “Sorry must go now, guard coming. I can get a knife though; I’ve had one in my hands already. See you.”

With her last remark Peter was left speechless as he watched her leave. The guard approached closer, standing menacingly in front of them accompanied by one of the dogs. From where they were sitting on the ground it was hard to tell the breed, but it appeared to be a cross between a Doberman and a horse. The dog was a bitch, in more ways than one. It didn’t strain at the lease, it didn’t have to, but just oozed confidence and stood still, panting whilst drooling saliva and spittle from a pink mouth framed by white teeth. It appeared undecided which of the six legs to gnaw at first. Peter looking suitably impressed and downcast moved over to the corner of the fence near the building. Drew shifted his legs back but otherwise stayed his ground, whilst Miguel got slowly to his feet and sidled away along the fence. The guard, now content at having asserted his authority without saying a word, turned and walked away, the dog reluctantly following. After they were out of sight Peter decided to see if he could get through the fence and began working on it where it was stapled to the upright pole whilst Miguel kept watch for a return of the duet. Drew moved over to hide most of his actions.

“Man that is some animal, I would just hate to be the target of its affections.”

Peter looked up from his endeavours at loosening a corner of the fence. “Yes! I know what you mean. That dog looked pretty bitchy too.”

Drew smiled as Peter continued. “How many of those dogs do they have Drew? They are going to be a problem when we get out of here.”

“Four! They have four dawgs. There’s that bitch which is the worst, its mate and two pups.”

“Two pups! I haven’t seen any pups, but I’m sure I saw more than two dogs.”

“Yes well the pups are full grown, and they’re as big as their ma and pa now. But there are only four of ‘em all told.”

Peter had managed to work loose a staple from the fence but became stuck with the second one as it needed a nail or something similar to work this one free. It all came down to the same thing. They needed tools.

The meeting between the three was adjourned to the dormitory where it went on for another hour as they discussed the various aspects. At last it was agreed they would make a rope in the bamboo store. Then at night when it was ready they would drop one end from the window for Peter to climb down. Crawl through a hole in the fence, shin up a pole onto the flat roof and test the door and ceiling panels. Meanwhile they would try and find or make some tools.

* * *

It was 10:30 the next day in Sao Agusta when Shaun was standing before a table in the living room of his two room apartment still waiting for Fidel. On the table were several sheets of paper, pen and pencil, ruler and a pocket calculator. He wasn’t concerned; it appeared this was a habit of Fidel’s, always to be late. On the window sill a cheap radio was tuned into a local station playing music and in his right hand was a steaming cup of coffee. ‘If you don’t come on time you don’t get coffee.’ He muttered to him self, placing the cup on the corner of the table.

Next moment he heard a creak from the floorboards in the corridor, two seconds later Fidel slipped around the door without knocking and quietly closed it behind him.

“Good morning Fidel.”

“Brian!” Was all he received by way of reply.

The first things Fidel noticed were the sheets of paper on the table and the radio. Doubtless the music was to drown out their conversation so they could not be bugged. He sat down at the table. “I have the plans that you asked for,” he said, reaching down into the already opened brief-case. Extracting three folded sheets he opened them one after the other on the table. “Have you had any second thoughts on this... enterprise? Have you any idea how it can be done?”

“Well! I’ve been thinking of nothing else since you left yesterday. First I have one or two questions. These terrorists that we are trying to anticipate. How much access do they have to the dam? How much time do you anticipate they will have without being disturbed? And how much weight do you think they could carry to the dam? This is very critical; it defines the whole approach to the problem.”

Fidel thought for a moment before answering. “You can assume you have all night and that you can get one lorry up to the dam and up to four other strong men to help, less if possible, but no more than four. The bomb should be triggered remotely or timed with at least a one hour timer.”

Shaun had another look at the main drawing then scrutinised, first one then the other of the more detailed plans. Picking up his coffee he sat back in his chair and a fair away look came into his eyes. “Okay let me run this by you. First we must have as much water in the dam as possible, preferably it should be full.”

Fidel nodded. “Si!” He very nearly added that this had already been initiated and that no more water would be wasted.

“Second this must be an inside job.” He watched Fidel’s reaction to this statement and was satisfied by his surprise. “We must get access to the cavity, the void between the two walls of the dam. That’s where the weakness is. We cut some of these girders, the bracing struts between the two walls of the dam. Cutting those will weaken the dam by over 50% the water should do the rest.”

“Si! But there are very many of these bracing struts, maybe a hundred or so.”

“That’s the problem,” said Shaun busily bending over the drawings. “I don’t know how many there are but looking at this I’m sure there are more than a hundred, possibly nearer a thousand struts. We don’t need to cut them all, just some of the more critical ones in the middle. If you take away those the forces on the wet inner wall will not be passed to the outer wall and so the inner wall should break. Once that goes the whole integrity goes and the structure will soon follow.”

“How many need to be cut? ... How do we cut them? I would not wish to be there when the last one is cut.”

Shaun was already busy sketching some aspects of the drawings. “That is the next problem. How many I don’t know yet, I have some work to do there. But the struts, we cut them with explosive. Commercial dynamite that is used for mining or quarry work isn’t powerful enough. What would be best is military explosive. Can we get any? Or even semtex. The best solution though would be to use shaped charges to cut the girders.”

“But surely Brian, semtex is plastic and can be shaped to fit the girder.”

“Oh yes! I didn’t mean shaped in that sense. I meant the actual explosion is shaped. You put a fast burning explosive next to the girder and a slow burning explosive behind it. The slow explosive goes off first then the fast one which is confined by the first explosion. It’s like using a lens but for explosive energy.”

“Ah! I understand.” Fidel did indeed understand. He had learnt some of this at the KGB school in Moscow. But it was nice to know that this man also knew what he was talking about. ”How about the explosive from a thousand lb aerial bomb. Could that be used?”

“No! That's no good at all. The explosive is poured as a liquid into the casing and left to set. It would be very difficult to get the explosive out. Besides it is a very slow explosive, most of the effect is obtained because the explosion is confined at first in the casing.” Shaun pondered the problem whilst still copying the drawings. He had put forward the suggestion of military explosive more in hope than expectation. But it was also to test how the land lies. He decided he would have to be a bit more specific. ‘I think now’s the time to have some fun though. Let’s cloud the issue a little, see what he thinks of this idea.’

“There may be another way Fidel. If we were to fill the whole void with gas, say fifty-fifty with air and set that off. That may do it, the over pressure in the void would be huge. It would need a lot of gas though. But you may be able to pass it of as a leak of natural gas and not sabotage.”

“Bloody hell! ... No! There is no natural gas on this part of the West coast of South America. Now if it were the East coast, say Venezuela... all those oil fields... may be... That void is bloody huge. It’s as big as a cathedral, so how much would you need?

Shaun scratched his head. “I did a rough calculation; it’s about 40,000 cubic meters. So we're talking about 10,000 cubic meters of gas at twenty five percent of gas.”

“It sounds a lot, how much is that... in lay men’s terms?”

“A lot, but that is at normal air pressure Fidel.” He bent busily over his sketching as much to hide the grin on his face as anything else. “If the gas is stored at 1500 p.s.i. or 100 bar then you only need 100 cubic meters. Mind you that is a fair bit anyhow.” Again a long pause before he continued. “You know those large red Calor gas cylinders that stand about 1.5 meters.”

“Si!”

“Well these must hold about one cubic meter... maybe. That means you would need about 100 of them. If a lorry can carry say 20 cylinders, that means five lorries. Do you think someone may notice?”

“Sha! ... Brian, forget it. Though it does have a certain appeal, blaming it on seepage of natural gas. But it could hardly be considered natural with five truck loads of gas bottles driving up that road.” Then a smile spread over Fidel’s face as he added. “It would cause a big bang though, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes! A very big bang, a very spectacular big bang.” Shaun shuffled the drawings around and began to copy some detail off the second one showing the connecting struts. “In that case Fidel if you can’t supply gas and it’s not practical to use fuel vapour. That would condense before we filled the void, then it’s down to explosives. And the best thing for that job is probably anti tank mines or some good old fashioned semtex... Where is the armoury for the army?”

“Where else but at the army barracks just out of town. Why? Are you thinking of going and asking for some samples?”

Shaun’s head jerked up at this suggestion. “Me? No! That’s not my job Fidel; I just do the best I can with the tools provided. You provide the tools.”

And there a line was drawn; both recognised it and both accepted it. For the time being!

* * *

The hide in the rain forest had now been in place for over three weeks, and though it had not been manned continuously it was nonetheless beginning to show signs of wear. Vittorio was sitting on the only chair, concentrating hard gazing through the telescope at the second floor end window of the building... the north facing window of Fidel’s office. It was a poor view, they could see less than half of the office which included Fidel’s head when he leant forward over his desk. But at the moment this view was more interesting than the minister’s office which was empty.

This was to be the last day of use for the hide as it was becoming more apparent that the continued risk and time spent using it far outweighed the gains obtained. Vittorio and Tino had been sent to pack up and clear the site. Tino was itching to have another last look through the telescope to see if he could catch a glimpse of his latest love Teresa beyond the minister’s office.

“Ah!” escaped from Vittorio’s mouth, “Fidel is going somewhere. He’s round the other side of his desk putting several large sheets of paper into his brief-case.”

“So! Perhaps he is going to take them home with him tonight.”

“It’s the middle of the morning Tino. You don’t fill your brief-case unless you are going somewhere and he has just put on his jacket. I am going to try and follow him with the pick up. Dismantle this lot and I will come back for you as soon as I can.” The last of his comments were said as he left the hide at a run giving Tino no time to object.

The Nissan pick up was a hundred meters away and up hill, Vittorio arrived out of breath when he reached it. But he had the keys in the ignition before he was seated. The engine caught first time and the door closed as with rear wheels spinning in the gravel he shot out onto the road. Fortunately traffic was light and he was soon down the road and across the bridge over the Rio Milagro. A quick glance to the right and he saw the building that he had been looking at minutes before. Off the bridge and again another right turn took him onto the Avda Milagro which led him past the ministry building. Vittorio pulled into the kerb and was about to park to wait for Fidel’s car when he saw the man on the same side of the road walking away from him. ‘Walking? Fidel is out walking the street with his brief-case at this time of the day. Odd!’ Instead of stopping he continued along the avenue and drove past the man before turning left some two hundred meters further on. He parked in front of another vehicle and waited, watching in his rear view mirror for any sign of the pedestrian. After a few moments thinking that Fidel had maybe turned back or gone in to another building he was about to get out and had his hand on the door latch as Fidel walked into view and continued past the end of the road until he was again was out of sight.

Vittorio counted slowly to fifty before getting out of the pick up, locking it and strolling down to the junction. Here he turned left without hesitation, and was pleased to see his quarry continuing along the other side of the road about a hundred meters ahead. The road wasn’t busy, a few cars passed now and again. Several pedestrians were walking in either direction, a woman with a dog and some children playing. Fidel took no notice of them. Vittorio became part of the scenery and followed from the other side of the road. Fidel turned right at the next junction onto a road that led down to the river and Vittorio had no qualms about following. However when Fidel turned left at the next road he became a little more circumspect and was reluctant to follow immediately now that there were fewer people about. Instead he stayed on the right side of the road and stopped beside a truck that was parked opposite the junction. Standing on the footstep of the truck so his feet were hidden he could see up the road by looking through the side windows of the cab. Fidel walked on with purpose in his stride along the left side of the road and appeared to know precisely where he was going. Until he disappeared, one moment there, the next gone.

Vittorio blinked, the man had stepped sideways so quickly if he hadn’t been watching at that moment he wouldn’t have known which house he had entered. He stepped down from his perch and rather than follow he continued down the road towards the river. Fidel was without doubt being clandestine. So it was not advisable for him to go wondering down that road looking at houses. Instead he walked in a full circle and entered the road that Fidel had disappeared from but from the other direction. He changed his appearance by simply removing his jacket and rolling it into a bundle before briskly walking back along this road casting just one glance at the entrance that Fidel must have used. It was a very thoughtful man that drove slowly back to where Tino was waiting at the roadside with the telescope wrapped in the hide.