Scion (37 page)

“Shit, we nearly did it!” shouted the first drunk to the second.

On hearing the voices. Scott immediately relaxed. “Bastards!”

Kirk and Kyle, had got the message he had sent them. Their latest sanction had been in China and they had just come straight from there. Scott instantly knew from their playfulness that neither knew what had happened to the island and his family. The K Squad were a tight bunch and an attack on one of them was a declaration of war on all of them.

As Big Ben approached 22.50, Scott turned to them and asked them to sit down on the doorstep behind them. Scott brought them up to date on what had happened. Neither believed him to begin with but the sombre expression soon made them realise it was not a wind-up. A whole island and its community had been wiped out. Kirk and Kyle had been welcomed openly on the few occasions they had visited with Scott and both felt a huge loss. They took some comfort from the news that none would have suffered but like Scott, the grief was short-lived. Anger began to boil and the demand to know who was responsible soon bubbled to the surface. Vengeance was now the priority. Grief would wait until scores were settled.

Scott gave them the two minute version of what he knew, the link to Transcon and the belief that they were responsible and that ultimately, it was his fault. Both Kirk and Kyle reacted strongly to his guilt, asserting that the only guilty parties were those who had a hand in pulling the trigger. Scott had lost just as much as they had when the island was bombed. Their family was his family, their home his home.

Scott heard the first chime of Big Ben and realised they needed to get moving. As the second chime sounded, the three were up and walking towards the Downing Street entrance. They didn’t hear the third chime. The explosions drowned out Big Ben and any other noise for the next ten minutes.

Chapter 68

The London Eye had been built to mark the new Millennium and stood over 135m tall. The wheel, on opening, was the largest observation wheel in the world. Standing on the banks of the Thames, it towered over the government buildings across the river and was only a few hundred yards from Downing Street. Originally planned to last only five years, its popularity had secured its permanency as a feature on London’s skyline.

Although closing at eight during the winter months, the venue was available for hire for corporate events in the evening. The insurance company who had hired it that evening were celebrating the success of a recent merger between two competing organisations. Only three of the thirty two capsules were being used as with only seventy guests and each capsule holding up to twenty-five, the rest were superfluous. In any case the event was done on the cheap. The Champagne was really Cava. The food consisted of nuts, crisps and sausage rolls and the new MD had screwed the venue manager down to the barest minimum cost for the use of the Eye. 

There were therefore more than a few surprised guests when two barges that were moored in front of the Eye began to let loose the most amazing firework display. None more so than their boss who just hoped he wasn’t going to get stung for it. The fireworks were tremendous, lighting up the sky and booming across the city. The speed and ferocity of the show left hardly a second between bangs. With each flash of colour, a corresponding bang echoed across the skyline.

The duty manager at the Eye stared in disbelief. Nobody had told him they were going to let off fireworks. He didn’t have a permit and it was going to cause all kinds of trouble. At the same time, however, it was absolutely the best firework display he had ever seen. Even the Millennium displays from around the world would have struggled to compete. Within seconds, his ears were ringing. The ferocity of the explosions were surely not normal, he thought as the sky continued to explode.

Of course, the insurance company had nothing to do with the fireworks. Mike Hunter had arranged it all as a diversion, no permit had been obtained and none would have been issued. The fireworks were way beyond the legal requirements allowed in the UK. There would most definitely be hell to pay but they would never find out who had arranged it. Everything was untraceable, even the barges which had been towed down earlier in the day were owned by a shell company that until that day hadn’t existed. In any event, nothing could be done until the show was over and that would be ten minutes after it started and about seven minutes longer than the UK’s PM had to live.

***

As the sky lit up, the two police cars burst into life, their blue lights switched on and both accelerating down Whitehall. As the explosions began to ring out, both cars raced towards the iron gate that secured Downing Street and flashed their lights to gain entry. As expected, the sight of the familiar cars did the trick, the gates swung open and the metal barrier that would stop a tank began to lower into the ground.

The confusion of the sudden explosions and the arrival of the speeding police cars had got them through the gates. The hard part was done.

As they sped past the first line of defence, the passengers in the cars shot the four policemen that had just let them in. The explosions overhead covering the spit of the silenced H&K MP5SD’s. Within seconds, the two vehicles were at the front door of Number Ten and the two policemen covering the door were also shot. Five men poured out of the car and dispatched another two police guards, one of the men snapped open the boot of the first car and withdrew a small rocket launcher, flipped it onto his shoulder aimed and blew to smithereens the iconic symbol of the British government, the front door of Number 10. A further guard died in the blast while another three who had rushed to see what was happening were mown down before they even had a chance to raise their weapons.

***

All three of them paused as the flash lit up the sky and they saw the blue flashing lights career down Whitehall and turn sharply into Downing Street. Without thinking, they all began to sprint as the explosions literally pounded their ear drums. They knew the fireworks were not normal. As they reached the gate, the sight of the dead policemen confirmed their suspicions while the flash of light from the door up ahead told them they had to hurry. Whoever was attacking the PM had already breached the house.

Grabbing the standard MP5 issue weapons from the DPG officers, the three quickly but carefully made their way towards Number Ten. Two of the assassins stood guard, one holding an MP5, the other checking the skies with a stinger missile. The second Scott spotted the stinger, he knew the PM had not betrayed him. Obviously, someone had wanted to ensure the secret stayed exactly that. Scott added George Cunningham to his hit list. It was going to be a busy night.

Kirk and Kyle were slightly behind Scott and with no intention of waiting for them, Scott rolled out into the road, catching the attention of both assassins. He dropped the assassin carrying the MP5 first and smiled as he watched the second try to shoot him with the stinger. He waited longer than necessary as he let the assassin think he might just make it. Kirk, however, wasn’t in on the joke and shot the stinger carrier with a three round burst to the head.

Scott signalled for Kyle to wait at the door and for Kirk to follow him inside. Once beyond the rubble of the front door, the house seemed eerily quiet despite the ongoing explosions overhead. Scott pointed for Kirk to take the stairs while he rushed towards the back of the house. An elevator had been installed recently which Scott hoped was sitting on the ground floor and would give him a chance to jump ahead of the assassins. As he opened the door, the door to the elevator was just closing. It seemed Scott wasn’t the only person who knew about it. Just as the doors were about to close, Scott managed to force the butt of the MP5 into the gap. The doors immediately opened again. With his gun pointing the wrong way, Scott dived out of the way as a volley of bullets flew out of the small box. Convinced he had shot him and seeing Scott’s gun lying safely on the ground, the assassin advanced to finish the job.

Scott didn’t hesitate. He needed to get to the PM. He spun and delivered a bone crunching punch to the throat of the assassin, the speed and power destroying the man’s larynx and voice box before separating his spinal column cleanly from the base of his neck. His body dropped lifelessly to the ground. Scott pressed the button for the top floor.

The elevator travelled quickly but to Scott it felt like a lifetime. On reaching the top, the door opened to reveal the main door to the PM’s apartment. It was shut. A good sign that the assassins had not yet made it to the top. Scott had thought as much. There were at least ten security stations within the house and as many men. They’d have to work their way through each of them if they wanted to make sure they got back out alive.

In between the fireworks, Scott could just make out the noises of small gun fire. As soon as it started, it stopped. The security men’s pistols were being silenced by the assassins MP5s. Scott ran across to the door and found it locked. He banged on the door and prayed that the PM would hear him over the fireworks. Eventually, the door opened and a very frazzled and dazed PM stood before him. Scott pushed him down the corridor and told him to wait in the room at the end of the corridor before making his way back towards the staircase that would bring the assassins to the PM.

Scott stood to the side of the staircase, pushing himself as tight as he could against the wall and waited. The explosions from the fireworks continued to rock the building but Scott could feel the movement on the staircase. He was tuning out the explosion frequency and focusing on the footsteps edging towards him. With one step to go, he moved. Squatting and spinning, he threw his right leg out and almost removed the head of the first assassin with an upward kick that sent the man’s body crashing into his colleague. The trigger of the second assassins gun was forced down and the first assassin’s already lifeless body filled with bullets. Scott’s move, however, wasn’t finished. Following the momentum of the kick, he had literally leapt over the top of the two men and landing on the step to the rear of the second, crashed the point of his elbow into the man’s temple sending him crashing to the floor and instantly stopping the flow of bullets. The man would be a vegetable for the rest of his life.

As the bullets stopped, Kirk appeared. All assassins it seemed were accounted for. Scott and Kirk walked back up the stairs and entered the PM’s apartment and joined him in his bedroom.

***

As the explosions overhead had reverberated around the small bell tower, she had been caught in a dilemma. Muzzle flashes had been clearly visible within Number 10 and with no sign of the PM, she had considered whether she should abandon the post and get to Number 10 herself. However, she also knew that by the time she got there, it would all be over. The only viable option was to remain where she was and hope the PM would come into view.

She hadn’t had to wait long. Not long after the shooting had started, the PM had run into his bedroom, extinguished the light and jumped behind his bed. She switched to night vision scope but still couldn’t see him. However, she knew where he was. With the PM covered, she was comfortable she had made he right decision. No matter what happened, she had him in her sights.

The muzzle flashes continued to burst out of the windows and were now on the third floor, just one floor below the PM who scurried out of his room, her eye momentarily distracted by the flashes below. However, less than twenty seconds later, he was back and diving for cover behind the bed again. As the muzzle flashes stopped, she began to panic. There was only so much she could do. The glass between her and the PM was bullet proof and ideally, she’d have a .50 calibre rifle to ensure penetration. However, she had a slightly smaller calibre but hopefully just as effective. The L115A1 was a slightly modified version of the L96 Accuracy International sniper rifle and used an 8.59mm cartridge. The armour piercing rounds she had selected would be able to penetrate the glass and still have enough energy left to go straight through the bed.

With the muzzle flashes having ceased from below and the PM refusing to budge, she withdrew her blackberry device and selecting a number hit dial. She just hoped that he would hear the phone ring over the explosions from the seemingly endless firework display. Putting the blackberry on loudspeaker, she could just about hear the ring tone as she waited. The green glow began to appear in her scope and grow as the Prime Minister got up and walked to his phone on his bedside cabinet.

“Hello?” he asked tentatively.

“Mr Prime Minister. Don’t move. I have you covered with a sniper rifle…”

The door burst open and Kirk and Scott flew in.

“Friend or foes!” she demanded as the two green figures shot into her view, as the Prime Minister turned to see who they were, a red dot appeared in the centre of Scott’s head.

The Prime Minister didn’t know what to say. If he said friend and she was with them, Scott would die and if he said foe to protect Scott and she wasn’t with them, he’d die. The permutations of the situation were too much to be answered in a split second and the words of his mother from childhood popped into his head, ‘now Andrew you must always tell the truth, bad things happen to people who lie.’

“Friend,” he shouted into the phone.

Both Scott and Kirk looked at him in confusion as the panicking PM screamed ‘Friend’ seemingly randomly into the phone.

The PM closed his eyes as he shouted and waited for the shot to ring out but it never did, he opened his eyes and the red dot had disappeared.