Dark Winter (31 page)

That was all he got out. My left hand grabbed the back of his scrawny neck and I punched him hard under his chin with the heel of my right. His head snapped back and he dropped like a bag of shit on to the concrete. I knew now why he’d been lisping: whatever it was that he’d been hiding under his tongue flew out on to the pavement.

‘Fuck you – cunt.’ There was no lisp now.

He started moving, so I did what I had to. I kicked him in the face. I couldn’t tell exactly where it connected in the dark below me, but it didn’t really matter. I kicked him again as Suzy grabbed at my arm, whispering loudly. ‘What the fuck are you doing? Come on . . .’

The guy was face down so I gave him one in the side, hoping to get a kidney, and a couple more in the gut. I yanked myself free from her and bent down.

‘This isn’t the time!’

I started dragging him across the wet tarmac towards the kerb. Suzy tried to pull me the other way. ‘What are you—’

I got him face down, his shoulder on the edge of the kerb, his elbow above the gutter. He tried to curl into a ball but I grabbed his arm and pulled it out again.

Suzy got down on one knee. ‘For fuck’s sake! Give him to me.’ She grabbed his wrist and pulled the arm out straight. He moved his legs, trying to protect himself. His voice was blurred – his mouth must have been full of blood. ‘You cunts, cunts.’ He tried to curl up again, trying to protect himself. Suzy still had him in a wristlock, elbow pointing outwards, his forearm on the kerb. ‘For fuck’s sake, get on with it.’

I jumped a foot or so in the air, brought my right foot higher, and kicked back down with all my strength and weight. There was a loud crunch as my right foot made contact and my left landed on the tarmac. He screamed like a pig. I turned and kicked into his face once more to shut him up. Suzy was already moving out on to St Chad’s, looking up at the CCTV. ‘Come on, come on, come on!’ She turned right, towards Gray’s Inn, and I followed, catching her up within a few paces.

‘What the fuck is going on, Nick?’ She looked ahead, checking, as I kicked my boots through a couple of puddles to get the blood off. ‘Have you decided to devote a little quality time to totally fucking this job up?’

I didn’t bother answering: I didn’t care what she thought. But she still had a little more to add. ‘I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll bet it’s fucking hard to pronounce.’

She quickened her step. Fuck it, I was sure it was all pretty straightforward, once people understood my point of view, but now wasn’t the time to explain it to her. ‘Listen, it’s done, I fucked up, sorry.’ I grabbed her arm to slow her down, then reached for the moan-phone.

The traffic was still busy, so I had to plug my empty ear with my finger again after dialling the Yes Man.

‘What?’

‘We’ve done the 360 and we’ve seen nothing, no signs of life. Are the signals still up?’

‘Yes. I want you in there just as soon—’

I cut him short. Once the op started
he
had to listen because I was the man on the ground. ‘We’ve seen the source. He’s got nothing. We’re going to go and get a closer look at the target building right now.’

We were heading back up towards the ship’s bow. ‘I’ll call back soon.’ I closed down. It felt good to have the final word now and again.

Suzy was on my arm again and checking over her shoulder in case of any follow-up. She was like a dog with a bone. ‘Have you got a connection loose or something? You shouldn’t have done that, it could jeopardize the whole job.’

‘No, it couldn’t. I did us a favour. If he goes to the police they’ll be concentrating on the block back there, so that makes it even better for us when we try to make entry here. That’s if he even goes to the police.’

‘Fucking hell, that’s the thickest thing I’ve ever heard.’

I held her as we dodged the puddles and double-timed it over King’s Cross Bridge. ‘OK, MOE girl, next phase – the locks.’

She nodded and changed sides so that she had her left arm through my right. MOE girl wanted to be nearer the locks. As we started to walk along the target, a group of black kids in baggy jeans with hoodies up over ball caps fell in behind us, eating chips and swigging from Coke cans.

A can was shaken and sprayed over one of the crew behind us and they all had a good laugh, apart from the victim who was pissed off that his new trainers were not only wet from rain but had now got the good news with Coca-Cola. Suzy and I slowed down to give them time to pass and get some distance; this was good for us, it gave us a natural reason for stalling, and time to have a look about before we carried on slowly behind the boys.

Four derelict shopfronts and adjacent doors made up the ground floor of the target building.

The first looked as if it had once been an Indian restaurant. Did the grime about the door or the locks have handmarks? Had they been pulled open lately? These places looked as if they’d been closed down for ages, so any recent disturbance should be easy to detect.

It was boarded up with chipboard and a dirty, rusting padlock that hadn’t been touched for years.

Next along was Mole Jazz, which had either been a club or a record shop – it was hard to tell from what was left of the sign. The padlock on the door was in the same state, grimy and virtually rusted solid, with a bit of old chewing gum stuck in its keyhole by a bored passer-by.

Dress Wright, next up, was covered with heavily locked shutters, which someone had pissed over months ago and taken off the first couple of layers of grime. It was highly unlikely to be an entry- or escape-point: shutters make too much noise and take too long to open and close.

The Eastern Eye had definitely once been an Indian restaurant, and was the last premises before Jim’s burger bar. There was a door to the right of the boarded-up shopfront: its padlock wasn’t new, but had definitely seen some action. Suzy saw it too and we stopped, held each other and smiled, me with my back to the entrance to afford her a better look. Her wet hair brushed against my face as she confirmed what I’d seen. ‘The dirt’s been disturbed – the lock’s been opened, and very recently. Can’t see any telltales, but it could have been the girl, locking her mates in before heading back to King’s Lynn.’ Suzy started to run a hand over the top of the door frame.

‘But she didn’t have another key with her.’

‘What do you think I’m doing this for, dickhead?’ She brought her hand back down and her eyes switched into excited mode. ‘Got it, she must have been coming back. Bet these fuckers have an escape route if she’s locked them in.’

Our faces were just inches apart, and I could feel her breath on my face. ‘Better still check, MOE girl. You still might have to work your magic.’

I smiled as I put my arms round her once more as she tested the key. She wouldn’t have turned it in case she couldn’t close it again, or the key broke. All seemed well. A police car screamed past us on Gray’s Inn Road. Sirens were as common as cuddling couples round here; no one took any notice of it or us.

She pulled away from me a little, smiled, and planted a kiss on my lips. ‘Third-party awareness.’

‘I wish that gum was mint flavour, you stink like your ready bag.’

‘Bet you still liked it, though.’

We moved back to the bow of the ship and carried on round to the other side to start a closer walk-past of the Pentonville side. The MTC was number 297. Suzy linked arms and pulled herself into me. ‘Two nine seven – you see it? No locks. Escape route?’

‘Could be – maybe bolted inside, or just locked then boarded up.’

‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’

We carried on down Pentonville and crossed over King’s Cross Bridge before turning left and left again, so we could get back to the car yet keep a healthy distance from the target area. Eventually we found ourselves under some railway bridges that led from the station: it was quiet, very few vehicles, hardly any foot traffic. I got on the phone to the Yes Man and detailed what we’d seen.

‘How long before you get in and clear the building?’

‘That’s difficult to say. Could be an hour, maybe two. We need to go through things first.’

‘Be quick. Remember, take control of Dark Winter at all costs.’ I heard him take a breath as if to launch into a speech.

There wasn’t enough time for that shit. ‘I’ll call you when I’m ready.’ My second chance to close down on him, and why should I care if I pissed him off? I might be dead soon.

‘What do you think, then, MOE girl? With that camera down on us, we’ll just have to brass it out and make it look as natural as we can. I can’t see any other way out. Assuming you turn a key, of course.’

She ignored the dig. ‘What about the NBC kit? We can’t go in there already rigged up.’

‘If we’re not compromised on entry, we can get into it as soon as we’re inside, then clear the building until it goes noisy.’

She nodded, and started to look excited again, I didn’t know why: we were probably going to be walking into an absolute nightmare.

41

Suzy ran her fingers through her soaking hair as we skirted the pools of light around the construction area. I slowed down a little: we weren’t that far from the car but I didn’t want us to be sitting in it longer than we had to. We might get some unwelcome attention from the police in these times of high terrorist alert or, round here, the Vice Squad. The last thing we needed was someone in a uniform inviting us to step out of the vehicle and give him a guided tour of the boot.

‘OK, MOE girl, how about this for a plan? We take the ready bags, we get to the door. We cuddle just like before, and you turn that key, yeah? What sort is it?’

I knew she’d have her MOE kit on her body just in case.

‘Ward. Shouldn’t be too bad.’

‘So, you open the lock, I’ll move inside and cover you while you bring in the ready bags and close the door. Once you get in, we jam it.’

Suzy glanced across at the world’s biggest construction site. ‘There’s got to be something we could use lying around here.’ We needed to stop the entry door from being opened again and block the possible escape route if it went noisy. We had to contain the ASU like pigs in a poke if we were to have a chance of dealing with them.

‘Then we get the NBC kit on. I’m not going to put my hood up – it was making too much noise. I’ll get my respirator on but keep the hood down until the last possible moment.’ This was hardly brain surgery, but we both had to have a clear idea of what was going to happen. ‘Once we’re ready, we’ll clear the place from the bottom up. Unless we hear them, we’ll have to go through room by room.’

‘What if we’ve got the wrong door and no one’s in that part of the building? We can’t walk outside in the NBC kit.’

‘We’ll have to go across the roof.’

‘Dark Winter at all costs, eh?’

I saw that fervent look in her eyes again. ‘Something like that.’

She nodded, still scanning the building site. ‘Easy money.’

I hoped she was right.

The arches supporting the railway lines in and out of St Pancras and King’s Cross were in the process of being stripped bare. But it wasn’t the Victorian brickwork I was interested in so much as the scaffolding. There had to be a few stray fixings lying around and, if not, a fresh stock somewhere near. Portakabins stood at every entry-point in the chainlink fence around the sites. I couldn’t see any security guards – they’d be tucked inside watching late-night porn on Channel Five.

‘Here we go.’ Suzy had seen something. She guided me on to the opposite pavement, put her arms round my neck and whispered into my ear. I was getting to like this. ‘Time for another of your legendary cuddles, Romeo. You’ll find there’s some stuff by our feet, just the other side of the fence.’

We embraced and I looked around. I couldn’t see any CCTV cameras. ‘Right, let’s go for it.’

‘Last of the great romantics, aren’t you?’

I bent down and stretched my fingers through the links. A few seconds later we were heading back to the car, arm in arm, my pocket bulging with five or six steel fixings. Some were triangular, some rectangular, but any of them would do the job.

‘The boss needs to know what’s happening, Nick. Time for another call.’

She was right, of course. One of the archways had alcove-like chambers, probably a bit of a feature when Gladstone was a boy but only used nowadays by people who needed a piss or a place to smoke some crack. I stepped into one of the shadows to get out of the rain for a few minutes.

‘Just one more check.’ I pulled out the 9mm and, keeping it by my stomach, put the heel of my right hand on the muzzle and pushed back the top slide just enough to see the glint of brass. She did the same.

I got out the moan-phone, and the first secure bleep didn’t even get a chance to sound off before he was up and running. ‘What’s happening? Where are you?’

I could hear voices behind him. Two sounded American, another I couldn’t make out. Maybe Malaysian? Who cared? I had enough worries.

The voices faded, as if the Yes Man was putting some distance between them.

‘We’re going back to pick up the ready bags and move to target. Should be making entry in less than thirty.’

‘Where’s the entry-point?’

‘Are the signals still in the building?’