CHOGM Pt. 05

"Shit!" George P said for the second time in a short while, "No-one tells me anything."

"We thought it best that no-one knew about it and we are hoping that I can still carry out that role even in this position. One thing I will have to do is to try and convince the Australian government that we no longer see the need to maintain a surveillance operation in this country."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Show them evidence of the dismantling of this part of the operation. There is still plenty of operations around that they are not aware of. They may suspect, but there is no evidence which will confirm anything."

47

The road from Wyee to West Wyong was not the kind of road that one would take unless one had to. Rarely graded, its gravel surface was corrugated and rough. Apart from the sound of gravel bouncing off the underside, there was little evidence of the roughness of the surface inside the car. Russell handled the car with increasing confidence as it tracked easily over the rough surface, the tail sliding predictably and safely through the sweeping gravel corners.

Jenny watched as Russell's confidence grew and his speed increased. She felt safe with him, the deft movements not hampered by the pins sticking out of the ends of his fingers, his right hand merely having to steady the wheel while his left hand darted quickly to the gear lever and back to the wheel, the movement of the left hand in harmony with the quick thrust of his left foot on the clutch pedal and the right foot gently feeding the power through the accelerator.

Russell was enjoying the opportunity to push the car while staying within its limits. Jenny sat back in her seat, her eyes closed and a sigh of contentment escaped from her lips.

Her eyes opened at the touch of Russell's hand on her thigh. "Sorry to wake you Darling, but I want you to keep your eyes open in a minute, we are just coming up to an intersection. I doubt if there will be anyone watching but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"I wasn't really asleep Darling, just feeling content."

Russell slowed for the intersection and they both glanced quickly around. Nothing. For the moment they were clear. Back on the bitumen Russell relaxed a little as the car once more settled into its usual loping style, gone the adrenaline charged thrill of driving quickly over a rough and treacherous surface.

They were not observed when they turned from the Central Mangrove road and wound down to Wisemans Ferry. Neither were they seen crossing the river and driving into Windsor. They booked into a motel as Mr and Mrs Burroughs, using the car registration papers as proof of identity, not that the receptionist was all that interested in who was using the room, just as long as the bill was paid.

"Who cares," he thought to himself as Russell signed the register, "If he wants to cheat on his wife, who better to do it with than this one." His practised eye had already taken in Jenny's obvious charms.

"Russell where are you?" Brian's voice seemed anxious, "The word from our people monitoring the police frequencies is that you have managed to give them the slip and they are far from pleased. How did you do it?"

"I'll tell you about it sometime. We are heading back into Sydney but we dare not go back to our place or our parents' places, so we will be looking for somewhere to stay for a couple of days, can you arrange something?"

"You shouldn't have come back. You're supposed to be on holiday."

"We have thought this through and decided that we had to come back. The cops weren't about to leave us alone no matter where we were. So, we thought that we might as well come back and make ourselves useful."

"Okay, I'll find something for you. Where are you now?"

"In a motel, but it is probably best that we don't tell you exactly where, you never know who might be listening. I suppose that if they put their minds to it they could find us easily enough, after all we are not the most inconspicuous couple around and they will probably have spread the word for all cars to look out for the Triumph.

"Darling I'm famished." Jenny called from the bathroom, from where she emerged towelling her hair. "I just realised that we haven't eaten for hours. Where can we get something to eat?"

"We could eat in the restaurant here or go out for something. Or else we could get some McDonalds, we passed one as we came in."

Holding her throat dramatically Jenny gasped in mock desperation, "Anything."

Their meal was un-inspiring and un-eventful. They were seated at the table with a glass of wine watching the television when an item caused them to pay close attention.

The talking head on the screen announced with his usual lack of emotion; "Police hold fears for the safety of one of Sydney's top models and her travelling companion, a local journalist. Jenny Peters is understood to have been under some emotional strain following the death of her father recently in, what has been alleged was a hit and run accident. It is also understood that her companion, Russell French, a journalist with the National News, was also under some pressure following the decision by the newspapers management not to publish an article for which he had been carrying out extensive research.

Police have stated that they understood the couple to be heading for a holiday at Brunswick Heads but have failed to arrive as scheduled. There have been no reported sightings of the couple's vehicle, a dark blue Triumph sedan and no reports of any accidents along the most usual route north.

Anyone having any knowledge of their whereabouts is asked to contact their nearest police station."

As they watched a little television and made more than a little love the manager of the motel was talking to the police who sent a patrol car around to confirm that the couple that booked in was indeed Jenny Peters and Russell French and that the car was the one for which they were looking. Both confirmed they were left alone. As the police patrol told the manager, all they were interested in was that they were safe and well.

As Russell and Jenny munched their way through the standard motel breakfast of cereal, Kellogg's Variety packs, fruit juice, pineapple, and blotting paper toast and jam from those infuriating little plastic tear top containers while listening to standard motel piped music and then had a joint shower in the cramped confines of the standard motel shower, they were oblivious to the machinations of the police outside.

Not so unaware was Brian. The phone rang and Russell scrambled over the bed to reach it. "I hope I caught you two in bed."

"Well you didn't."

"Look, the cops know where you are and have planned a little reception committee for you so be very, very careful."

"Okay."

"What's the matter now?" Jenny asked.

Russell had hung up the phone. "The paper has been monitoring the police frequency and it seems that they know where we are and have planned a little something for us. I'll just have to be very careful as I drive."

He was as good as his word, driving below the speed limit, obeying all of the Road Rules and keeping out of the way of his fellow motorist. It wasn't good enough however as, by the time he had reached the office, there were three Defect Notices on the windscreen of the Triumph as well as a speeding ticket in his pocket.

They were greeted warmly enough by the others when they walked into the office. The news that he had for them left them a little cold. "I have had a visit from a high ranking police officer. The word is that unless you give and keep an undertaking to give up any ideas that you might have of publishing that article they will continue to harass you as well as proceeding with all of the charges that they already have against you. Sign the undertaking and they will drop all charges."

"Doesn't leave me with much option does it?"

"Not a lot, no. I also have to sign a similar undertaking on behalf of the paper. I am prepared to do this if you are."

"I suppose I had better. Where is it?"

Brian walked over to the door and called a man in, "Russell this is the Police Commissioner, he is here to witness this."

"Is there any limitations on this?"

"I think that the world will have forgotten all about this in fifteen years so you are free to print after that time."

"Thank you very much." Russell commented wryly.

"Darling, I think that you are making the right decision. I know first-hand what the CIA are capable of doing and much as I hate to give in to them, if we don't we will not have any peace and quiet, and the one thing that I am looking forward to, apart from you and the kids, is peace and quiet."

The papers were signed and witnessed by the Commissioner, photocopied and each party kept a copy of it for their own records.

"I think," Brian said slowly as if giving them time to digest his words, "That what will happen is that we will be presented with a convenient scapegoat for the Hilton Bombing. They will probably go inside for a while and then the person who fingered them will be discredited and they will eventually get a pardon. If they leave it alone it will die the death there, but if they push for complete exoneration it could drag on for years."

"By the way, Jenny, your mother has provided us with a whole pile of interesting information about the CIA operations in this country. They apparently used a mixture of Sodium Pentathol and Mescaline to encourage our friends to talk."

"It seems as if the whole scheme was designed to get John, Frank and Jerry for their involvement in the closure of that drug pipeline several years ago. Luckily for them it didn't work but unfortunately for the garbage men and the policeman who were killed, it went horribly wrong."

"Maybe will see the scaling down of the CIA operations in this country."

"Well there have already been some changes at the top."

"Like what?" Russell asked.

"We have just been advised of a new appointment as US Consul in Sydney."

"Who is it, anyone we might know?"

"Miss Gloria Solomon. Do either of you know her?"

"I do." Jenny said. "Don't hold your breath for any changes. She runs the Solomon Modelling Agency and is in theory my boss. I thought that Francine was working on her own there but it now appears as if Miss Solomon was the brains behind the whole operation."

"I think that, as this has reached the stage that it has, it will be safe for us to go back to our place. We'll see you in a tomorrow at the funeral." Russell said as he and Jenny made their exits from the office.

On reaching the car park they were shocked to see a policeman standing beside the Triumph. "Your chariot awaits." The policeman said as they approached, "I have taken the liberty of cleaning your windscreen, I don't know how you could possibly see through it."

Russell looked at it to find that there were no longer any Defect Notices on it. "Thank you."

"I'm glad that you have seen the light." The policeman said as he left them.

48

It was till February in London. It was still cold in London. It was still grey in London. The cold and grey of the weather matched to moods of the men seated on either side of a desk in an office in a cold grey London building.

One of the men sat in relative comfort as he had a rather comfortable leather chair to sit in, the others sat in straight wooden chair with no padding on the seat. The rest of their discomfort stemmed from the fact that they were in the process of being hauled over the coals, figuratively, as there was no such luxury in that Spartan room.

"When I order you to give up an investigation and return home I expect you to do just that." The voice was cold, clipped and with a sharp edge to it designed to cut the recipient down in his tracks.

"Getting a little close to the truth, were we?" John was not about to be cut down.

"What do you mean?"

"Several things have been bothering us for some time. It is obvious that someone tipped off the CIA about us travelling to Sydney for the CHOGM Conference. We were expected, but because we drew so much attention onto ourselves he was unable to carry out his task.

"They always seemed to know what we were doing, it was just as if someone was keeping them informed. While I'm not saying that all of the tip offs came from this end, I have proof that the original one did."

"What are you getting at?"

"A mole. A large one. Somewhere within this organisation there is a mole who is working for the CIA. Now while they are supposed to be our friends, they don't always agree with our policies. What makes this even more difficult for us is that this person is working in this organisation at the very highest level."

"Well I suppose that I'll just have to call for an inquiry into these allegations. We cannot afford to have our organisation compromised like this, can we?"

"It's too late for that isn't it?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Several high up officials were suspected of being that mole. What was arranged was for each of them to be tested in such a way as to positively identify who it was. I'm afraid that you failed the test." John turned to the door, "You can come in now."

The door opened to admit the Head of the Service followed by a soberly dressed man. "Minister, I wanted you to be present when I did this because there will surely be some questions asked in Parliament about this. Henry, I am sorry to do this, but I will have to arrest you on charges of espionage."

"I don't know how long you have been working for the CIA but the fact remains that you were working against the best interests of Her Majesty's Government and for you to remain effective your loyalties must remain 100% with HMG. Come with me."

As he turned to escort his prisoner from the room he turned to the three men. "You aren't serious about retiring now are you?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You see for us to be effective we have to remain anonymous and we can no longer achieve that anonymity because our images are on file in Langley. So we will have to go. We will resume our normal, non-secret lives"

The ship smashed its way through the high Pacific swell. The overcast sky, the freshening winds, and the rapidly falling barometer were the herald of a tropical cyclonic depression.

The captain of the Liberian registered container ship pulled his oilskins tighter around his body, "Gentlemen, what you are about to witness you will forget. It did not happen. I have instructions to dispose of these men you see before you."

"Why are we doing this?" The First Mate asked.

"They have put themselves above the law. Both of them are paid assassins and this one," he indicated BillyBob, "this one even more detestable when he undertook to supply vast quantities of heroin to the drug addicts of the world. What sets him apart from the normal supplier is that he actively set out to increase his market by tricking many people into becoming addicted to the stuff."

"Why do we have to do this and not the authorities?"

"Because they worked for one of the authorities that was supposed to stamp out the drug trade and bring peace and stability to the world. Like their crimes, their punishment must also come from outside the law."

"No!" BillyBob tried to get to his feet. "This is inhuman!"

"Not as inhuman as the crimes for which you are about to be executed."

"I work for the US Government. I have Diplomatic Immunity."

"You no longer have such immunity. I will let you read this." He thrust a sheet of paper into BillyBob's trembling hand.

"The persons identified as BillyBob Brown and Justin Matheson," The massage read, "are no longer employees of the Government of the United States or any of its Agencies. In punishment for the crimes listed below they are to be summarily executed by the Master of the container ship Grand Monarch." There followed a list of at least two dozen crimes ranging from murder to drug trafficking.

"Gentlemen proceed."

The order given, one of the three men that flanked BillyBob tied a rope around his neck, there was ten metres of rope between him and the large lump of heavy metal held by the other men. At the given signal the men threw the weight overboard and it gained momentum as it fell towards the sea. As the rope snapped tight the noose tightened around BillyBob's neck and there was an audible crack as his spinal cord snapped and he disappeared overboard. Matheson followed immediately.

They immediately sank beneath the waves and were lost from sight.

The ship's Master radioed a coded message to Washington that confirmed that the sentences had been successfully carried out. All records of the message were deleted from the radio logs at both ends.

END

Author's note: the meeting held in Sydney in February 1978 was the Regional offshoot of the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting (CHOGM) not the regular biennial meeting of the full Heads of Government.

Several theories were put forward as to who might be responsible for the bombing. Two members of the Ananda Marga religious sect were arrested and charged with this crime, but these charges were later dropped because the principal witness in the Crown case proved to be unreliable.

The New South Wales government has twice (1991 and 1995) called for an inquiry into this matter and both times this has been vetoed by the Australian government.

There are many disturbing matters surrounding this case that have led to the proliferation of Conspiracy Theories:

•It was alleged in a recorded statement by the driver of the garbage truck, that police had prevented earlier trucks from emptying the bin for several days and the garbage men were instructed to take some litter from the top of the bin but they were to leave the rest of it undisturbed.

•It has been alleged in some quarters that these instructions were so that the Australian Security Intelligence Agency (ASIO) could find and disarm the device in the bin and prove its relevance at a time when this was being questioned.

• It was also alleged that the garbage bin had not been searched for bombs prior to, and during the meeting. Such a search is normally a high priority, but this was never carried out in relation to the Hilton bombing.

•An Army dog handler, Keith Burley, gave evidence that he and his dogs were expected to be used but had inexplicably been called off, without explanation, a few days prior to the blast.

•The officer-in-charge of the police immediately following the bombing claimed that there had been a 'cover up'.

•It was alleged that the bomb squad was on stand-by nearby, suggesting that they were aware of the bomb. The government prevented them from giving evidence at the inquest.

•A Sgt Horton stated that he saw an occurrence pad entry that showed the warning call was received at 12:32am, 8 minutes before the bomb went off. At the inquest four other versions of this pad were shown, each giving 12:40am as the time the call was received.

•The most important pieces of forensic evidence, the garbage truck and the bomb fragments, were moved to a secret location, and buried, before a thorough forensic examination could be carried out.

Adding weight to the conspiracy theories is the Nugan Hand Bank, a Merchant Bank that at the time was based in Sydney, registered in the Cayman Islands, and identified in several investigations as a the money laundering arm of the CIA and its Covert Operations Group. This included its drug distribution operations worldwide and illegal arms deals with Libya and Iran. The bank's operations involved the shipping of large amounts of money between Sydney to each of its offshore offices (Hong Kong, Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and the Cayman Islands).

Several of the Directors of the Nugan Hand Bank were retired US military personnel, some of whom gave their address as the San Francisco offices of 'Air America' a CIA controlled airline that official never existed, and which was used by that agency for clandestine operations in Laos and Vietnam that included the transportation of arms and drugs. Other Directors gave their address as Continental Air Services/US Agency for International Development (CAS/USAID).