Elephants can't hide forever by Peter Plenge

drive to the homes of John Illes and Brian Robinson. Speed was essential as Frank was sure once
the two robbers discovered Brian’s brother in law was in the nick they would have it away.
    John Illes was sitting in the kitchen of his Kentish mansion feeling rather pleased with himself. In the few weeks since the blag, he had managed to move the gold and it was now in the hands of
various associates. He was confident none of them would turn him over. Furthermore, a company had been set up in Bristol as a gold dealership; this was currently being used as a gold smelting
operation. As soon as the gold was melted down it was moved onto the scrap market and converted into cash.
Yup,
thought Mouse,
things couldn’t have worked out better.
The tannoy
broke the silence: “John Illes; this is Commander Frank Carter of New Scotland Yard. Your house is surrounded by armed police; you and any other persons in the house are to leave by the front
door immediately. You cannot run, and if you resist you will be shot.”
    Mouse was mortified. How could Carter be here now, he knew Carter and knew he meant business. He just retained enough presence of mind to pick up the phone to warn Brian and the rest, but the
phone was dead and that said it all.
    As John Illes was being shown to his new home a year later, that being A wing Her Majesties Prison Parkhurst, he was contemplating the rest of his life in this prison cell. Not in his wildest
dreams could he have known that two hundred and fifty miles away a young man half way up the bleak terrain of Pen-y fan in the Brecon Beacons was going to change all that.
     
    Chapter 11 Mike (Nine Fingers) Tobin
     
    As Mike Tobin neared the summit of Pen-y fan he hadn’t a clue who John Illes was, or that he was starting a twenty five year stretch for the Brinks Mat. He’d heard of the robbery and
over a pint he had even shown begrudging admiration for the balls of the robbers, but right now he would gladly swap life on the mountain for a prison cell.
    Mike Tobin joined the British Army aged eighteen. From a poor background in the North East of England, he knew life in Gateshead without qualifications or a job could only lead one way. Although
uneducated, he was smart and self reliant so he had walked into the local army recruitment centre and signed up with the R.E.M.E- the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers to give them their
full title. Not only would Mike get paid to see the world, well, Norway if he was lucky, but they told him at the centre he could train as a Mechanical Engineer, and he didn’t know what that
meant but it sounded good.
    Mike took to army life like a duck to water. Based down at Bordon Camp south of Aldershot, his eager approach and natural enthusiasm made him a popular soldier within the ranks. Opposite the
road from the main REME camp, and a quarter of a mile from that highway, lies an independent military barracks occupied by the Ghurkha Regiment. The rivalry between the two forces was fierce and
often things got out of hand, necessitating the intervention of the Military Police.
    It was after one of the regular Saturday night skirmishes with the men from the mountains of Nepal that Mike found himself in the guardhouse on three days hard labour with a rival Ghurkha as
company. A few hours earlier both men had been trading blows in the local hostelry when the MPs had stormed in and grabbed the first protagonists available. Unfortunately that happened to be Mike
and the Ghurkha. As the hours passed, and the two men mellowed towards each other, the little Nepalese fighter regaled Mike with stories from the Ghurkha regiment. Mike was enthralled as the
Ghurkha told him of jungle warfare and how, with their diminutive frames, they fought and usually beat most adversaries and indeed, Mike realised just how vicious they were.
    On the last night of incarceration the Ghurkha said to Mike: “Tell me, Mike, I’ve got to know you these past few days and it strikes