The Hostage (51 page)

‘Bus stop just before the bridge!’ Wilks shouted and pointed.

‘Got it,’ Chaz said. ‘I know where to put the car.’

He drove directly across the intersection, over the pavement the other side, down a grass verge, and on to a piece of waste ground close to the river. He braked hard and before the vehicle had come to a complete stop the doors were open and they were all clambering out.

Stratton led the run back up the grass verge in time to see the bus heading for the intersection. Chaz arrived at the top of the verge and Stratton quickly faced him, his back to the bus. As Wilks arrived out of breath he saw the bus and was about to bound off ahead of it.

‘Wait,’ shouted Stratton, grabbing Wilks’s jacket. ‘Wait for it to pass.’ He didn’t want the front upper deck to see them running. But that meant they were going to have to sprint as soon as it went by. Wilks was aware of that and, being far too overweight, was already dreading it. He was not given time to think about it. As the bus passed Stratton was off with Chaz alongside him.

The bus came to a halt at the stop to let a handful of people on and off. It was still a good hundred yards away and it was touch and go as to whether they would make it. Chaz turned on the afterburners and moved ahead of Stratton. The driver punched out a ticket and counted out the change for the last new passenger. Stratton ran as hard as he could, suddenly filled with the fear he had miscalculated the distance and how long it would take to cover it. The passenger took his ticket and started to head down the aisle. The doors gushed with air as they started to close and the bus crept forward. Chaz reached out and flung his arm into the closing gap. The driver saw a hand come through to grab the inside of the door and quickly braked. He gave Chaz a stern look and shook his head as he opened the doors.

Chaz stepped aboard, regaining his breath and Stratton climbed on behind him.

‘One . . . more,’ Stratton said to the driver, standing in the doorway so it couldn’t be closed.

Wilks staggered up and virtually fell into the bus. Chaz helped him inside and the driver closed the door.

‘Is it that important?’ the driver asked Chaz, shaking his head as he pulled away and on to the bridge.

Stratton went to the bottom of the stairs and looked up and then around the lower deck to get an idea of numbers. Chaz and Wilks joined him. The bus looked about a third full, with seven people in the lower deck.

‘You clear upstairs,’ Stratton said to Chaz. ‘They’re near the front.The girl’s pretty, short hair. If the older guy eyeballs you, you quit and get off. You take no chances.’

Chaz nodded and made his way upstairs.

‘Let’s get everyone off,’ he said to Wilks. ‘Not all at once. And don’t let anyone on.’

‘Not a problem,’ Wilks said.

Stratton went back to the front of the bus and reached into his breast pocket. The driver glanced at him and indicated a sign that instructed passengers not to hang around the driver and not to talk to him. ‘Go and find a seat, please, sir.’

Stratton held open a small leather wallet in front of the driver’s face. It was a very official-looking photo identification of Stratton with the words ‘Ministry of Defence’ embossed boldly across it.

‘Can you read that?’ Stratton asked.

The driver frowned, glanced at it long enough to read it, then nodded. Stratton flipped down the picture to reveal a sparkling metal badge with an ornate white enamel face that had the Royal Crest finely crafted on it along with the inscription, ‘MI5’.

‘And that?’ Stratton said.

The driver nodded again, a little slower, his frown disappearing.

‘And this?’ Stratton said as he pulled his jacket aside to reveal his pistol in its shoulder holster. The driver’s final nod was enhanced by a facial expression that was most convincing.

‘What’s your name?’ Stratton said, hiding his weapon.

‘Burrows. Robert Burrows.’

‘They call you Bob?’

‘I prefer Robert.’

‘Listen carefully, Robert. On board your bus, upstairs, are some very dangerous criminals. What we need to do is get everyone off without them knowing. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ the driver said, nodding, a little nervous, but in control.

‘I need your help, Robert,’ Stratton continued. ‘I want you to stop at the next bus stop and get out of your seat. I will drive. You will then help my colleague behind me. Don’t tell anyone the real reason they have to get off or they’ll panic. Understood?’

The driver nodded and swallowed heavily. ‘I understand,’ he said.

Stratton looked into the distance as they came over the hump of the bridge. ‘You’re going to stop at that bus stop, right?’

The driver nodded.

‘Act natural. Take it easy . . . The people on this bus are in your care, Robert. This is your ship.’

That was exactly what the driver needed to hear. This was his ship and he was the captain, and the passengers were his responsibility.They made movies of this kind of stuff and it was happening to him for real.

‘Nice and easy,’ Stratton said as they pulled to a stop.‘Don’t open the front doors.’ Two people were waiting to get on. The driver left the doors closed and climbed out of his seat. Stratton noticed the driver’s jacket on a hook behind the seat. He removed his leather jacket, dumped it behind the seat, and pulled on the jacket that had ample room around the front if a little short in the sleeves. He sat in the driver’s seat and looked at the mirror that reflected the images caught by the convex mirror upstairs. Brennan, Aggy and Lawton were all there at the front. He studied the controls. ‘Middle doors?’ he asked and the driver indicated the lever. Stratton activated it and the doors opened. ‘Remember, no one on, Robert.’

‘I understand,’ the driver said. He waved at the two people waiting to get on and indicated they could not. Meanwhile, Wilks went to the three young women nearest the middle door, showed them his badge, and asked them to get off. Surprisingly, they did so without making a fuss. Movies and current events had made the average person far more cooperative in such situations these days. The driver went over to an elderly couple and decided the best way to deal with them was to explain that the bus was stopping where it was because of engine problems and another one was right behind. The old couple got off quite quickly. He repeated the same story to a couple behind who had overheard and they obediently followed.

Stratton checked the rear-view mirror, saw Wilks give a thumbs-up, shut the door then slipped it into drive and slowly accelerated away, leaving the people who had been ushered off as well as those who had been waiting in the street somewhat bemused.

 

Chaz sat down on the top deck and took a moment to get a look at the targets. He picked out the only short-haired, pretty girl at the very front of the bus and it was easy to see who the two men were. The younger one was beside her and the older one behind them both. No one was seated the other side of the aisle to them.

Chaz turned around and faced two middle-aged couples in the two seats behind him. He showed them his badge, told them in a low voice he was with the London special security services, and asked them to quietly and calmly get up and go downstairs. They looked at each other, wondering if this was some kind of a joke. He repeated his command, making sure they could see his picture clearly on the MoD identity badge, and further explained he was a form of police officer and that they were quietly to go downstairs where a colleague would explain the situation to them. They were eventually convinced enough to get up and go to the stairs. Chaz kept an eye on Brennan, who remained looking forward.

As the four passengers reached the lower deck they started talking and asking what was going on. Wilks gave them a quick shhh, put his finger to his lips, and reinforced the command with a flash of his badge. They obeyed this new stranger.

Stratton was anxious for the next bus stop. He wanted everyone off as soon as possible. He took the right turn off the bridge and drove along the riverbank. The road curved slowly to the left and then a stop came into view. As he started to slow, the driver came alongside him.

‘This is the wrong stop,’ the driver said clandestinely.

‘You mean none of those people waiting at the stop will want this bus?’ Stratton asked.

‘That’s right.We don’t stop ’ere. Ours is around the corner a bit further.’

‘Perfect.’ Stratton brought the bus to a stop alongside the bus stop and hit the lever that opened the middle doors with a gush. Wilks ushered the people off. Stratton closed the doors and moved the bus on its way.

 

Chaz got up and walked to a seat opposite the last couple upstairs, who were one seat back from Brennan. Brennan was aware someone had arrived close by and glanced back. Chaz avoided Brennan’s eyes and looked out the window until Brennan faced the front again. Chaz reached a leg across the aisle and tapped the young man on the foot. The man looked at him strangely and then saw the badge in Chaz’s hand by his knee. Chaz made a motion for him to move back. The man frowned, wondering what Chaz wanted. Brennan started to look around but was seemingly interested in something across the river and went back to facing ahead.

Chaz suddenly started to feel the pressure. It dawned on him that he had never been in such a dangerous position in his life. He was used to following foreign diplomats mostly, Russians, East Europeans, Middle Easterners. He’d worked against the IRA loads of times but never like this, never close to a killer who was prepared to waste him if he made a mistake. Chaz looked at the young man with eyes so intense it was if he was trying to burn the message into him. He made another, more severe jerk with his head towards the stairs.The young man’s girlfriend was suddenly aware of her boyfriend’s distraction and looked past him to see Chaz holding his badge. Chaz thought about showing them his gun, but changed his mind for fear it might scare them into a negative reaction.

The girl was more switched on than her boyfriend and took a look at the people in front of her, evaluating why the black guy was being so secretive and cautious. As if Brennan had sensed something he turned and looked at her, into her eyes. It was as if she saw something in him that scared her. Brennan looked ahead again. She nudged her boyfriend to get up. He was resistant. She nudged him again, harder. Chaz put his fingers to his lips, the young man gave in, and they got up.

Brennan looked back just as Chaz was getting up to leave. Chaz caught his eyes, just long enough to see the beast in them, then followed the couple down the stairs. Brennan looked ahead again, but this time niggled by something. He looked back to see the upper deck was empty.

On the lower deck the couple had joined the last of the passengers herded together at the centre doors as Stratton slowed the bus to a stop at a set of traffic lights. He decided to go for it and opened the doors.

‘Everyone off,’ Chaz said quietly, keeping an eye up the stairs. ‘You too,’ he said to the driver.

‘But this is my ship, I mean my bus,’ the driver said.

‘You’ve done your job, mate. You’ve got to get off now, please.’

The driver glanced over at Stratton in his seat, accepted it was all very much bigger than he was, and stepped down off the bus. Stratton shut the doors and as the traffic lights turned green he drove on through the junction.

Wilks and Chaz glanced at each other, at Stratton, and upstairs. Now what?

Wilks took a seat on the bench behind Stratton, nearer the stairs, while Chaz made his way to the back and sat down.

Stratton pushed on along the riverbank taking it as slowly as he could without alerting suspicion, every few seconds flashing a look at the upper-deck mirror. Parliament was a mile or so further on; he needed to drag the journey out as long as he could. There had been no call from Sumners yet, no support team, no plan. It was beginning to look as if everything was going to be down to him. With Brennan, it could get messy. He wondered if the bus could be the best place to end it. He could stop the bus, walk upstairs, and take his chances on shooting Brennan before he could react, and then Lawton. If the virus was somehow released they would have to stay on the bus. It could be sealed off where it was by the biohazard teams and they would take it from there. Not the best end to the day Stratton could imagine, but it might have to do. Then came a loud ding that made Stratton flinch. It took a split second for him to realise it was the stop request bell.

Stratton looked at the upper-deck mirror to see the backs of Brennan, Lawton and Aggy on their feet. He looked at the mirror showing the lower-deck interior, at Chaz and Wilks who were looking up at the sound of footsteps above moving to the top of the stairs.

Stratton saw a bus stop up ahead and started to slow. The footsteps clomped down the stairs. Lambeth Bridge was several hundred yards away, still a fair distance from Parliament Square.Then it hit Stratton like a slap. Of course. MI5 headquarters. A perfect place to put the virus, and Lawton the perfect person to deliver it there.

Aggy was first to step from the stairwell on to the lower deck, followed by Lawton carrying the briefcase, then Brennan who kept an arm’s length from the other two in case he needed to draw his weapon.

As Chaz saw Brennan he felt a sudden flush of anxiety. Brennan had looked at him upstairs. If he saw him again he might become suspicious.

 

Aggy didn’t know where Brennan and Bill were headed with the virus. She wasn’t familiar with this part of London and was feeling numb with helplessness. Attacking the thug would be a losing start. She was no match for him. Grabbing the briefcase wouldn’t gain her anything more than a bullet in the back. Bill might help her if she started it; she could grab the thug as the doors opened and Bill could run with the case. But that would probably end with a bullet for both of them. He might not even run. Bill looked as helpless as she felt. She believed he would not let the virus be released, not if he could help it. He had assured her as much on the stairs outside his apartment. But how much was he protecting her, and where would he draw the line between saving her and everyone else? The thug wasn’t going to let her walk away at the end of all this no matter what. She was only alive so far to keep Bill in line. As soon as they reached their destination she was dead. Bill must know that.