She had thought about taking the tube from Piccadilly Circus, but after the suffocating and frankly soul-destroying meeting Ellie had been in since eight that morning, she really needed some fresh air. A crowded, hot and smelly tube didn’t hold much enticement, so she made the decision to walk a little further to Green Park, and grab, on the way, some much needed oxygen into her numbed brain.
Ellie arrived at Green Park platform seconds after the train pulled away. The travel board showed a three-minute wait for the next tube, which would take her to the next meeting in Knightsbridge. The time on the board indicated 10:59.
Ellie glanced up and down the platform, looking at the commuters. She was a people watcher and loved figuring out the stories of strangers. Kids in t-shirts denoting they were from a local English language school. Workers in crumpled suits. Shoppers buried in carrier bags. Maintenance and construction workers in their luminescent vests and tool belts. An array of visitors from every country across the globe enjoying the wonders of the capital.
It suddenly struck Ellie how London was such a melting pot. Looking at people’s faces, everyone seemed to share an acceptance of each other. A natural harmony of life. As crazy as it felt, Ellie suddenly thought she was seeing the world for the first time through another’s eyes.
A different perspective.
Maybe not even human.
The feeling was simultaneously peaceful and jarring. Ellie couldn’t quite comprehend the feeling; she only knew that it was dichotomous and deeply confusing. A trembling rippled through her body and she lost her balance, falling forward onto a guy wearing headphones.
“Sorry,” mumbled Ellie.
Then she sensed something approaching.
But it wasn’t a train.
She looked at the indicator as it flicked to 11:00, and a thunderous boom emanated out of the tunnel from the direction of Piccadilly Circus, the next tube stop.
The boom was followed within seconds by heavy vibrations that shook the walls and ceiling of the underground. Mortar started to fall, and all around Ellie, people screamed. The kids cried, the suits and shoppers pelted for the exits, knocking down anyone in their way, the construction guys tried to help some of the language school children, along with their chaperones, and the tourists shouted in their native tongues. But Ellie’s mind could translate easily enough.
Let’s get the hell out of here!
Everyone ran towards the exit to get away from whatever was coming down the tunnel. Ellie leapt onto the escalator, which thankfully wasn’t moving and now teamed with screaming, pushing people. Guards below shouted not to panic and keep calm. Meaningless words. Nobody was listening.
Ellie struggled through the throng to get out and made for the street. In her head, the sound of sirens reverberated, and the smell of burning filled her senses.
Moving toward Piccadilly, Ellie looked at the station and saw the flames. Black, billowing smoke had burnt out the brilliant blue sky and everyone around her just stood in the street, transfixed by the spectacle. Police cars and ambulances charged down Piccadilly as cars mounted onto the pavement, making room for the emergency services.
Ellie could feel something inside of her wrenching open, as if she’d just suffered a great loss. Her immediate thought was of Sam. He’d said he was in Cyprus on official FCO business all week, but a strange tingling sensation made her feel that, somehow, he was much, much closer.
She took out her mobile, but there was no signal.
It must have been a terrorist attack by Al Nadir, concluded Ellie, and now the mobile comms had been shut down, following standard security protocol.
Unable to call on the phone, she prayed.
Sam, my sweetness, I pray you’re ok. Dear God, please keep my beloved Sam safe.
Less than half an hour away from where Ellie stood praying outside Green Park Station, far below the Thames in the depths of River House, Sam Noor watched the spectacle of the bombing at Piccadilly Circus with Sir Justin Maide.
CCTV cameras positioned around the Circus had picked up on the horrific devastation. Maide looked away, unable to meet Sam’s raging stare.
In a whisper Maide said, “It had to be,” and then vacated the Obsidian Cave.
Sam glared at Maide’s retreating back but couldn’t find a single word in response to his boss’ succinct quip. He shut his eyes to the onscreen obliteration.
They’d gone too far.
But now, Pandora’s Box was open. There was no going back.
They couldn’t do anything but ride out the storm.
Ten minutes down the road in Downing Street, Ashton had been in his cabinet room with cabinet secretary, Martyn Redfern, when his chief of security burst in with news of the terrorist attack on Piccadilly Tube Station.
Ashton snapped at his security chief, “Show me!”
The security chief picked up the phone, called Five and requested live footage to be piped to the cabinet room. The TV flickered into life.
Ashton stared at the screen and swallowed, taking in the result of his approval to proceed with Snowdrop. The multiple entrances to Piccadilly Circus Station pumped out smoke and flames from deep within. The tarmac on the roads around Piccadilly had bubbled, cracked and split under the fierce temperatures that the explosions had generated within the underground. Fissures popped up across the roads and pavements, and out poured more smoke and fire.
People were running and screaming, their faces and limbs on fire. They’d been pedestrians hanging around Piccadilly Circus, trying to get to somewhere else, but fireballs erupting through the tarmac had caught them. Cars, buses and lorries smashed into each other and into people. Mangled body parts were strewn across the road.
Ashton swallowed, bringing back his Six training to shield his emotions, and momentarily looked away. He always knew there would be a body count in the tunnels, but above ground…
He’d seriously underestimated the ferocity and power of the bombs.
Ashton realized the air in the tunnels where the carriages had exploded had been superheated and the power would have incinerated anyone in the vicinity instantly. He doubted that anyone survived the blast. At least they wouldn’t have felt anything, not like those above ground.
What did Maide say? Worst case scenario, three thousand. Ashton raised his eyes back to the screen. That number would be more like five thousand.
Ashton’s head of communications, Paul Dawes, suddenly ran into the cabinet room, unannounced and grasping a tablet with a headline from a notorious blog, ‘The Insider.’ Ashton snatched the tablet. He looked at the headline and realized the shattering inference being made.
‘Piccadilly Bombing – What Did the Government Know? Another case of mishandled intelligence and botched operations by the security services’
The blog had over two million hits, and comments were flooding in.
“Damage limitation, Dawes!” yelled Ashton, and Dawes leapt into action.
“Prime Minister, we’ll get you on television reaffirming the power of the government, giving your solid support to the police and security services investigating, and your assurance to the British public that the bombers will be swiftly brought to justice. You shouldn’t give any credence to this blog or any others but say that anti-government rhetoric is thoughtless and sickening at a time when people are coping with the death of loved ones. Finish with something like, we must all stand together united, rather than incite divisive opinions.”
“Excellent, Dawes,” quipped Ashton, heading quickly for his private office.
Redfern followed on his heels. “Exactly what is needed, Prime Minister, a show of defiance and strength, but certain humility as well. Just the right balance.”
Ashton nodded.
“Absolutely, yes. A show of strength.”
A camera appeared. Ashton delivered his reassurance to a traumatised nation. He heard his voice talking vacuous words. But they were drowned out by an inner sound.
For in his head, the screams of those v
ictims burnt alive wouldn’t subside.
Ashton wondered if they ever would.
Chapter 34
In Barcelona, in an exclusive enormous penthouse just off Las Ramblas, I sit on a bouncy, dove-grey leather sofa. Beside me, Salim stands watching the feed from his satellite surveillance.
The explosion has destroyed Piccadilly Circus. More blasts erupt through the tunnels, pushing the flames and smoke to the surface by any means. The entrances on all sides of Piccadilly are on fire, and pieces of road have buckled and blasted up, bringing fierce flames and acrid smoke. Chains of smaller explosions pelt the surrounding area with debris, and fireballs shoot up through the fissures in the road.
I watch as visitors, tourists, workers, anyone in the immediate area, are killed horrifically. They are burnt by flames and fireballs or crushed by colliding vehicles, their drivers not knowing what the hell is happening.
My gut tightens and I want to vomit.
Salim’s eyes are fixed on the screen, but sooner or later, he’ll flip around and stare at me for a response. And he’ll be reading every single twitch on my face.
I have to react, but it has to be what he expects to see.
I bury the fact that I and the UK Government are now mass murderers, and I smile. But I know my expression isn’t convincing. All that death…
But if I don’t give the right look by the time Salim faces me, I’m blown.
At the second of his turning, Sabena opens the door with a magnum of champagne. Salim turns to her. It gives me time to leap in front, grab the champagne and start to shake it. I pop the cork and the drink spews everywhere.
“Another great explosion,” I say, laughing, as I watch the drink fall onto Sabena’s top, drenching her.
She grabs the magnum, also laughing, and takes a swig. I do the same.
“Teach those fuckers some manners, eh, Salim?” I say, shoving the champagne into his hands.
Salim takes a drink, a long one, but I feel his eyes burning on my face.
“It certainly will, my friend,” he says slowly.
I snatch the champagne and gulp down more. I feel I’m going to throw up with fear and hatred of myself, but the champagne has steadied me internally.
I know my place. I’m a bastard. I’m a killer. I belong in Al Nadir.
I slip my arm around Sabena and look directly at Salim.
Now or never.
He stares back at me and smiles, grabbing the champagne and swigging it back.
“You’ve done well, Kinley. Your loyalty is more than proven. By this, we can go forward. There is much, much more to do. You have made the right choice.”
I look quizzically at Salim.
“Choice?”
Salim flicks a glance at Sabena, who now has the champagne and is slugging it back, but Salim’s glance is still seen, and Sabena walks forward. Her face is suddenly snarling and sinister. This change is unexpected. I wonder where she is heading, and whether I’ll like the destination.
“Yes,” she says. “You could have continued to be MI6 but pretended to be Al Nadir, as the double agent we believed you were, or you could have become Al Nadir and pretended to be MI6. By this act of utter carnage today, which no agent could possibly have agreed to nor government sanctioned to ignore, you have proven your loyalty.”
Sabena sniffs as bubbles from the champagne go up her nose. Then, in a radical switch from super sinister, she starts to giggle almost uncontrollably. Salim glares at her and roughly grabs the mantle from her as giggles take over Sabena. She resembles a laughing hyena.
“Kinley, at least five thousand people must’ve been killed today. There’s no way you would have agreed to that if you hadn’t had been on our side. It’s been your final test. Your choice was MI6 or Al Nadir. We’ve now seen your loyalty, and your passion to decimate your country and your government. It warms me to see this. It reminds me of how I used to be.”
I am breathing again. I think I must have stopped whilst Salim was delivering his showdown speech.
So, there it is. They’d suspected all along that I’d been pretending, despite what I’d done, and what Sabena had said. It had all been lies.
Now it wasn’t.
A new level of respect flickers in both Sabena and Salim’s eyes.
“Welcome to Al Nadir, Matthew Kinley. I’m looking forward to working with you. Now, let’s really celebrate. Sabena, darling, what have you in store for us tonight?”
Sabena smiles again. Her sinister snarling is gone. She puts out both her arms to Salim and me and holds our hands.
“Something amazing, boys! I can’t wait to show you both.” She breathes, pulling Salim and me toward her body.
“Give our latest recruit anything he wants.”
On Salim’s words, I smile.
I’ve been accepted. I’m finally in position.
I just pray that the job won’t be the death of me.
Chapter 35
Aby-od, Leader of Kudamun, stared at the Observation Screen. The death toll was rising, and the darkness was growing. This disease the people called Al Nadir had created so much suffering across the planet. The Balance was now in danger of tipping too far.
The white light energies were fading. Hope was leaving people, making way for a thirst for revenge and retribution.
Aby-od shook his head sadly.
The devastation of the explosion, the sudden vibrational pain as death took the people’s lives so unexpectedly, and the growing anger across the world suggested to Aby-od that dark energies were now taking hold.
Some level of intervention may be required.
He’d monitor the position, and if the Balance fell further, he’d take appropriate action.
For now, he could only watch, like those on the planet, and trust that goodness would return and tip the Balance in its favor.
THE END
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
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The Trusted
Ellie Noor has created a thriving and successful life. She established a challenging and rewarding business. She lives in a stunning London apartment. And she shares it all with her gorgeous husband, Sam.
Their marriage is built on a strong foundation of trust and affection. But when a bizarre metaphysical experience shakes their peaceful home, Sam’s impulsive actions change Ellie’s view of him forever. The surreal event triggers a spiral of consequences. Ellie must adapt to survive the jolt to their domestic bliss.
But can she adjust to the shock of one simple realisation?
Her husband is not the man she thought he was.
When a relationship is built on truth, what happens when a decade-old lie is uncovered?
Sam Noor has learned to compartmentalise his complex life. Balancing an idyllic home and a lethal career, his routine is split between loving husband and trained killer. But with accumulating pressure, his carefully separated worlds fiercely collide. His oldest friend is in danger, his colleagues are untrustworthy, and his wife feels betrayed.
Sam is the strongest in his field. But everyone has a limit.
How much can he stand before he breaks?
Sabena Sanantoni and Salim Al Douri are the world’s hottest celebrities. But their beautiful faces and charismatic personalities disguise a dark reality. They are the leaders of an international terrorist collective: Al Nadir. In a modern era of superstar terrorism, world leaders are at a loss. The rule book is meaningless. Experience is useless. Salim and Sabena have corrupted every corner of the globe.
With Al Nadir always one step ahead, it will take a miracle leap to level the playing field.
Jonathan Treeborne has the answer. He has discovered a weapon of infinitely complex physics. But can a man control a force beyond his comprehension? In the right hands, it could destroy Al Nadir. In the wrong hands, it could destroy nations.
Treeborne has mastered the art of manipulation, permitting a prosperous political career. But are his choices really his own? Treeborne’s manipulative skills are matched by one other. Aswa-da is a sly observer from the realm of Kudamun. Indifferent to human political power play, his goal is far greater than earthly downfall. His dark plans will alter the very fabric of the Universe.
As overlapping gameplays cosmically connect, everyone is thrown into an abyss of chaos.
Who will survive in a world where no one can be trusted?
GET THE TRUSTED AND CONTINUE THE ADVENTURE
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Operation Snowdrop Page 15
