Chapter 1: Our Story Begins

Not much could be said anymore. All the promises, the glory and grand promises of money were just that, promises. In 1965 Capt. XYZ1 had left the country, what started out as 300 souls from the USA and a mix of 500 South Africans and ex French Legion troops who had been betrayed and left unpaid by the new ruler here once they retook the palace for him.

Always ready to have seasoned troops for their cadre, a South African firm, Global Conquest, had offered them work, provided fresh arms and supplies and transportation to another site. They also had given each of them a $2,000 signing bonus, upfront and a 12-month contract at $5,000 per month. The fresh munitions and supplies and a little time as R & R allowed them to return to the new rulers palace, gain some revenge and in the end provide each man some $10,000 in gold and gems. (The new fighting that followed became a good additional market for Global Conquest in the future. Later Capt. XYZ1 was found dead in Mozambique, natural causes was the cause it seems, it was not good to have made an enemy of so many young but good mercenaries. Global Conquest was sold to Executive Outcome when guarding oil became more lucrative).

It was 1966 now and Global Conquest expanded from mercs for hire to include private security and hostage rescue. Their original groups of 900 were now offered choices of several groups; most were 17-22 years of age and 1 or more years in college. The majority stayed as mercs, a few selected security and most of the older, seasoned cadre selected hostage rescue. All were offered contracts from 3-5 years, benefits and a chance to live expense free. Some elected to leave and the company thanked them for their efforts, said they were free of any remainder on the earlier contracts and provided a bonus, transportation and a promise of a good reference.

Several of us, myself included were asked not to select a group to join and to remain after the last selections had been made. Some 20 of us were approached by a small group of 3 men and 1 woman. We were given an envelope, told to follow and we all boarded a plane, which took us to the South African capital city.(Jo-berg)

When we landed, a coloured slip of paper with several letters and numbers were handed to each man as we exited the plane. The colour of the paper matched a flag flying above a van. We entered the van, handing the paper to a driver, he checked something on a clipboard and returned the paper saying when we arrive your number will be called, exit and go with the person who calls out your number.

When we arrived, numbers were called out, no names, no talking. “15” was called, I stood up and exited the van. “15” a young woman called out “follow me” she said. I followed, we entered a secured door, she presented something, then 2 guards approached me, while 2 others stood nearby, I was checked, frisked for weapons handed a package and told to enter behind a screen, undress and put on the things in the package. When this was done, my old clothes, the package pieces and anything else was placed in a bag, and sealed with a tag, I was escorted back to the guards who repeated the security processes again.

The young woman and I were then pointed to a series of rods and things before reaching a lift. We entered and she pushed one of the coloured buttons, matching the paper I had been given. The lift moved, not up but down, doors opened, I followed her to another lift entered behind her as she pushed number 5 marked on the button, the lift moved but not up or down, the doors opened and I followed her into what appeared to be a small suite, she handed me another envelope, told me to open it when she left and be ready to be interviewed in 6 hours.

Food, bath supplies and new clothing had been provided and an alarm would sound 30 minutes before the interview. “Be ready and be sure the 3 S’s have all been taken care of” with a light laugh. She exited laughing.

I sat in a nearby chair and opened the envelope, inside was a key card, a badge, a small glass vial, another small metal container, a syringe and a letter, it read, Greetings No 5. You have been selected for inclusion to a special unit of the firm that owns GC, your former employer. Specifics will be made available after you and your interview team has decided. In the event a choice cannot be made you may select a city to go to, money, papers and a new name provided but you may never speak of this event nor return to South Africa again. Should you do either, termination of your relationship with us will result. We wish, very much for you to select an area, which interests you No 5, and such a selection will provide you everything which you seek. All we ask is your total and unquestioning obedience and acceptance of the trust we shall place in you. Good fortune as well as happiness in any choice you make No 5.

I did as the note said.

When the alarm sounded, I was ready for the interview. I had examined the room, saw cameras, microphones and speakers in every room but nothing was hidden. Nothing seemed to be a threat and nothing seemed unusual for a high security area, in fact I had felt at ease, someone had gone to a great deal of trouble and expense.

Soon the door opened and several people entered including the young lady from earlier. “Have a seat No 5 one of the men said. I sat down. This meeting has begun, as the letter you were given states, it is meant to provide you with information allowing you to select an area you enjoy and for us to better understand what is really in your heart and those things you wish for in life.”

“This is not something you will need to be proficient in fact it is better you learn to do things our way. You were selected to be here for only one reason that being one of our groups felt you could be trusted. Trust to us is more important then age, money or experience. We can proceed in one of two ways, we can tell you what area we feel you can excel in or better, you can tell us that which is deepest in your heart and gives you the burning desire to succeed.”

Now this was interesting, never has anyone asked me such a question, in fact, I did not even know myself. I thought about this and spoke. I wish I even knew. I am used to just doing what was needed and survive that I never thought of myself. “If I had any wish, it would be to give to my employer the same level of trust and respect that they gave me.”

The man rose, smiled and said, “I think that can be arranged, rest now, tomorrow we will begin your new life then.”

The next day, the same young lady, and I mean young, my guess 16-18 years of age(she was a doll, no, an angel) came for me. “No 5 please follow me”, she handed me a small suitcase. We exited from a different way that we had come in. boarded a small plane. Once we were in the air she handed me a bag. “Open it now please, read everything inside, by the time you are through we should be landing at our 1st stop, it will be a busy day, rest, food and water should only be consumed while with me and you must refrain from touching anything, talking or leaving my immediate presence.”

I opened the bag, removed a passport, personal documents, bankbooks, credit cards, keys to what appeared to be a house or apartment and 2 cars. Also money, a ring, watch, wallet and coins. A change of clothes and a plastic bag containing, gum, candy, torn ticket stubs, etc. all the things one might find in the pockets of one living in Madrid.

We landed, debarked the plane and went through the security checkpoint. I was Rodger Bannister, a resident now of Madrid along with my daughter Maria, my wife having passed away when Maria was born. We both had our papers stamped, exited the aerodrome and proceeded to our car parked in a nearby lot. Following my daughters instructions, we stopped at a store, bought some fresh bread, cheese, wine and fruit, paying in the local currency, before leaving, Maria ran back got a teen magazine for which I paid, shook my head, then left, the young clerk would now surely remember the bouncy young girl with a bare midriff and large breasts.

We stopped by a cleaner, presented a ticket and walked out with clothes we had supposedly left a week earlier. I apologized to the girl at the counter as to not having a smaller bill, remarked how pretty she was and that she reminded me of my daughter, with that I told her to keep the change and told her that I hoped she was there the next time we came back. She would certainly remember the man and his daughter and that he spoke Spanish with an English accent when he flirted with her.

We pulled up in a turn-around near the entrance of modest apartment building; the doorman came up and opened the door for Maria. “Buenos Tardis Mr. Bannister, good to see you back, how was your trip.” Maria spoke “thank you Miguel, it was fine but too short, daddy would not let me have a holiday, he just wanted to work”.

Miguel, I said “would someone put the car away please, we will need to rest a bit”. I followed Maria as a porter was called to put the car away. As we entered the apartment, Maria reminded me the key to use and we entered. She turned to me, “not bad, daddy”; Roger Bannister would be accepted back in Madrid. She put the things we bought away in the kitchen, and then took the clothing to a bedroom, motioning to me.

On the bed was another suitcase, she started to undress, told me to do the same, opened the suitcase standing now in only a bra and panties and handed me new papers, a plastic bag and clothing to change into much as before. She was beautiful in clothes, without any, she was like an angel for sure.

As we dressed, she reached to her head, removed a brown wig and shook out a flowing length of golden blond hair.

Our old passports and clothes went into the old suitcase, she was now dressed in a black dress, high heels and matching jewelry, she motioned for me to enter the closet, she depressed a hidden button and a stairway opened, we went down, the door closed above and she pushed another button, a door opened and we entered another bedroom, she handed me one of the envelopes on the bed, the blue seal on it while hers was a gold one.

She said “Danker Hans” as she leaned forward kissing me on the check, she then took a tissue, wiped most of the lipstick away, “for effect” she said (not sure if it was to affect any others but it sure affected me) and told me to open the envelope. Inside was much the same as earlier, this time in German; my name was now Hans Brider, a Swiss banker looking to open a branch office in Frankfurt. She was now, well, a close friend, Inga, who was escorting me around to make contacts and show me local sites in which to open the office. She certainly looked the part of a friend, a very good friend, and a friend with benefits.