The Journey of Kyle Gibbs Box Set

by Wayne Marinovich

  ‘Mark my words, soon many of you will all be dead,’ he shouted as he struggled to get loose.

  ‘No, we won’t, Andrei. You see, it’s quite simple,’ Lord Butler said. ‘I realised a few weeks ago that you had bugged my office, and so I decided to reciprocate. I’ve been monitoring your office calls for the last few days, and even though you do use your satphone most of the time, I’m very intrigued as to how you would explain your phone calls to a man called Gabrjel, whom we suspect is a known senior member of the resistance.’

  ‘He is part of the resistance and someone who will end the reign of the Phoenix Council,’ Andrei said, a grin on his face. ‘Mark my words.’

  ‘Guards, take our Russian friend down to my basement chamber. I’m sure he’ll have a lot more to tell me later,’ Lord Butler said.

  The four Guards dragged a struggling Andrei Kirilenko out of the chamber and into the wood-lined hallway. He kicked and resisted as much as he could, but the strength of the guards was too great. As they headed for the stairs, they passed Private Warren Smith, who stood to one side, a look of shock on his face.

  Private Smith followed them for a few metres then peeled off onto the third floor and walked briskly along the dirty corridor. He stopped at the door to his room, checked to make sure no one was following him, and then entered. The room had two made-up beds and two cupboards on either side. He had to be quick because his roommate could come off duty at any minute, so he dragged one of the metal chairs up against the door, jamming beneath the handle.

  His hands were shaking as he grabbed the air vent above his head and with a hard tug, pulled the metal cover off the duct. He stood on tiptoes and reached inside, grabbing the parcel he’d hidden there three days earlier. After replacing the cover, he tore open the parcel.

  Private Smith looked at the contents on his bed and was surprised to see Andrei Kirilenko’s electronic ID card and his phone. Next to this lay a folded letter.

  Warren. If you are reading this, then I have been arrested, and I am either dead or being interrogated. In the address book of the phone is your own name. Call the number and tell the person on the other end what has happened. Good luck.

  • • •

  Forty miles south of Canary Wharf, Christina was drinking thick black coffee with René as they stood at the side of the road waiting for the slower trucks to catch up. Her satphone rang.

  ‘Hello…hello?’ she asked. The other end of the line was silent.

  ‘Christina? Is that you?’

  ‘Yes, it is. Is that you, Warren? I know this must be a bit of a shock, but I’m very much alive and working with Andrei.’

  More silence. ‘Sorry, Christina. It’s just so weird to hear your voice again.’

  ‘Have they arrested Andrei?’

  ‘Yes, he was captured twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘Warren, find out the exact whereabouts of Andrei. Let me know when you have news, and please be careful,’ Christina said.

  • • •

  ‘Gibbs, it’s me,’ she said.

  ‘Hello me. How are things on your side?’ he said.

  ‘How far are you from London?’ she asked.

  ‘A few of us are in St. Albans. We’ve met up with Tom’s contact here and are expecting the rest of the two thousand men to arrive in around six hours,’ Gibbs replied.

  ‘I have just heard that my main informant has been captured and is most likely being interrogated as we speak. We have to move, and quick,’ she said.

  ‘We have no reinforcements yet, Christina. I suppose your chubby friend won’t hold out for very long,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘You can be such an arse sometimes. It is not Lord Butler. It is Andrei Kirilenko.’

  Gibbs burst into laughter. ‘No way! That man hates everything and everyone. You expect me to believe that he suddenly turned into this philanthropic leader who cares about the world?’

  ‘His father and my father were doctors together in Moscow and became the best of friends. I have known Andrei all my life, and when I joined the GGC, we decided to try and make sure that we do everything to keep it a proper governmental organisation. We never realised just what a psychopath Lord Butler was. Once his lust for power got worse, we were forced to come up with an underground opposition to the government. Anyway, he is my informant and also acts as Vargen with me, we could not have done this without him being on the inside. We need to do something to rescue him,’ she said.

  ‘I guess I owe the big man an apology when I see him. We don’t have all the men down here yet, so a full-on attack is out of the question, but I could take my team in and try and get to them from the inside. It’s going to be tricky without much planning. It could also tip off Butler that an attack is imminent.’

  ‘They’re already aware of that. We are thirty miles away so we could try and create a large diversion,’ she said.

  ‘No, don’t do that. We’ll do this our way because that’s the best way of getting Kirilenko out before it all kicks off.’

  ‘Okay, Gibbs. I’ll contact Warren Smith and get him to meet you at the old North Greenwich Tube Station at low tide. He will guide you through the old tunnels under the Thames into the GGC compound. I’ll give him your number.’

  ‘Can he be trusted?’ Gibbs asked.

  ‘Totally,’ she said. ‘And Gibbs, please take care.’

  ‘Will do, kitten. I’ll contact you once we have your Russian friend,’ Gibbs said.

  • • •

  Two small lights were shining on either side of the room’s cold concrete walls. A shirtless Andrei Kirilenko was tied to a chair in the middle of the floor. He was bloodied and swollen from the beatings. Another stifled moan escaped from his bloody mouth as Lord Butler delivered a savage blow to his back and arms with one of his favourite weapons of torture. An old wooden cricket bat.

  Lord Butler was sweating profusely through his usually pristine white cotton shirt. He stood back and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead before swinging another hefty blow across the back of the restrained Russian.

  ‘Come now, Andrei. What is the coalition plan? What information have you leaked to them and where are they going to attack first?’

  The Russian lifted his bloodied and bruised face. ‘Fuck you, English.’

  Lord Butler wrung his hands around the grip of the bat and then thundered it down across the man’s thighs.

  ‘Admit that you are Vargen or die!’ Lord Butler shouted, his eyes wide with excitement. Only blood would satisfy the darkness within, but he was enjoying this too much to want it to end too quickly.

  Chapter 56

  O2 Arena, Canary Wharf, London, England, UK - 2028

  The large water taxi moored up on the east side of the O2 arena and Gibbs with eight of his men scaled the metal ladder bolted to the concrete wall of the embankment. They ran as a group along a muddy paved path then ducked through an eight-foot hedge, crossing a large square expanse of overgrown grass. Stopping briefly, they crouched down on their knees to scan for GGC troops out on patrol, then continued making their way around the torn and dilapidated old entertainment centre.

  Across the muddy river loomed the tall Phoenix buildings in Canary Wharf as a reminder of just how close they were to danger. The group stayed close to a concrete wall and slowly approached the tube station, where they spotted a small group of GGC soldiers.

  The young soldiers were sitting on wooden boxes, laughing and playing a game of cards. Carefree and clearly lacking discipline, only one of the GGC men had his SA80 at the ready and was also the first to see the approaching danger. A quick burst from him spurred his team into action, as they dived for their weapons.

  Gibbs and his team had already split up and fired short bursts at the scrambling men, who fell before getting off a round. The last man stood up from behind a wooden crate, screaming as he charged at the group of seasoned soldiers, taking a few rounds to the chest before he staggered to a stop, then fell forward.

  The rebel group cautiously ap
proached the main doors of the deserted tube station to check that all the GGC troops had been neutralised. Gibbs looked at his watch. ‘Damn, fifteen minutes late.’

  ‘Boss, over there,’ Shredder said, lifting his SA80 to cover the single figure who approached them from within the ruins of the entertainment arena. The slim man, his hands raised in front of him, walked towards them, and although he was wearing GGC fatigues, he was unarmed.

  ‘Hello again, Captain,’ the nervous man said, walking up to Gibbs.

  ‘Hi, Warren,’ Gibbs said, looking the young man up and down. ‘Where’s your weapon?’

  ‘We have to check them in when we leave the compound. They don’t want weapons getting into the hands of the locals.’

  ‘So they know that you are out here?’

  ‘Most of the troops leave the compound through these tunnels for, well, you know…recreational purposes,’ he said.

  ‘You dirty young man,’ Shredder said.

  ‘How many could we encounter in the tunnels then?’ Gibbs asked.

  ‘Traffic should be low as most are on duty. There are four of us out here at the moment. I made sure that all of the guys had a little extra money, so they should be spending a little more time with their ladies,’ he said.

  ‘Well done, lad. Now lead the way. If we encounter anyone along the way, drop to the ground, and we will handle them.’

  Warren Smith led them to a side service door, which was unlocked, and then they descended three flights of dirty stairs, the smell of sweat and urine burning their nostrils, down into the depths of London. The group of men slipped into the main tunnel of the old tube system and ran along the tube tracks beneath the Thames. Foul smelling water dripped into the tunnel from the ceiling, and the atmosphere was thick and damp. Years of neglect meant that they had to use their flashlights to light the way as they dodged mountains of litter and inquisitive giants rats.

  A few hundred yards from the Canary Wharf platform, Warren stopped and went to a side door. He whipped out a key and then entered an old service room. At the back of the room was a metal ladder, leading upwards.

  ‘There are five floors above us,’ Warren whispered to Gibbs. ‘The fourth is where Andrei is being held. We call it Lord Butler’s basement dungeon because it’s where he tortures and interrogates the prisoners they capture.’

  ‘When we get to the door and go through it, what can we expect?’ Gibbs asked.

  ‘There are ten rooms on that floor, and Andrei is in the second on the left, it’s in the middle of the corridor. There are two heavily armed Phoenix Guard soldiers outside his door, but they are more interested in him breaking out than someone breaking in. You all have silenced weapons?’ Warren asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Gibbs said.

  The group of men made their way up the steel ladder and came to the platform in front of the service door. A large blue number four was painted on it. Gibbs slipped out his silenced Glock and looked around at his men, who were then all in place. He placed his hand on the door handle and turned it.

  They stormed through and rushed at the Phoenix Guards, who looked up with surprise as the bullets tore into their bodies. Not a sound came from the fallen men and Shredder reached the door of the torture chamber first. They dragged the bodies out of the way then heard a blood-curdling scream from inside. Shredder slowly turned the door handle, but it was locked.

  Two men shoulder-charged the door, which yielded slightly with a loud crack of splintering wood. Another two men followed immediately after that and shattered the hinges. The door fell inwards with a crash, only to be met with a charging and screaming Lord Butler. For a millisecond, he seemed surprised to see Gibbs before taking a vicious swipe with the wooden bat at Shredder, who had fallen forward with the momentum.

  Gibbs raised his Glock and shot Lord Butler in the forearm, the cricket bat falling from his grip. He looked down at his arm in shock then fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding arm, screaming with pain. Gibbs looked up at the broken figure of Andrei Kirilenko, whose smile was barely recognisable on his bruised and bloodied face.

  ‘Warren, head up to ground level and call Christina. Tell her we have Andrei so they can begin the attack,’ Gibbs said.

  Lord Butler looked up at Gibbs ‘Christina?’ he hissed through gritted teeth. ‘What are you talking about, you idiot? Your bloody girlfriend is dead.’

  ‘No, she isn’t, you idiot,’ Andrei said, blood spilling dripping out of his mouth. ‘She is Vargen.’

  ‘What?’ Lord Butler asked, his face a deathly pale white.

  ‘Correct, Lord Fancy Pants… And she played you like a big bass drum,’ Shredder said.

  ‘She and Andrei were the architects of your demise, your Lordship,’ Gibbs said. ‘Can someone untie Andrei, please?’

  Lord Butler’s glance flicked from Gibbs to Shredder and across to Andrei. ‘She adored me. She would never have lied to me. I would have known.’

  ‘You abused her trust, Butler, so she used you instead,’ Gibbs said, and walked over to Lord Butler’s black jacket, hanging over an old pine chair. He rummaged through the pockets and found a large set of keys. He threw them over to Shredder. ‘See if they fit any of the other rooms on this floor, especially the ones at the end of the passage.’

  ‘Sure, boss.’

  Lord Butler spat at Gibbs as he walked past. ‘I should have left you on that stinking ship.’

  ‘No, Butler. You should have made sure that Alex Brun executed his orders properly.’

  ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘He gave me a gun in that hanger at Heathrow airport, and I took great pleasure in shooting your boyfriend, David Kirkwood. I shot him in the stomach, and he died in excruciating pain. All alone on that concrete floor.’

  ‘Alex would never disobey me. You’re lying,’ Lord Butler said.

  ‘Check with your bodyguard, or did you replace him with Markus. Where is Markus by the way? I don’t see him here protecting you?’

  ‘He’ll be in London shortly to avenge me. He will kill you all.’

  Gibbs laughed. ‘Wrong again, Butler. I killed him in the North Sea, and his body is now on the seabed, swarming with crabs and other creepy things.’

  ‘You’ll get what’s coming to you.’

  Gibbs punched Lord Butler in the mouth, and he fell backwards onto the cold floor. ‘Pick him up please, Smithy.’

  Once Lord Butler was back on his knees, Gibbs punched him in the mouth again. This time, a front tooth flew across the floor as he fell.

  ‘Again please, Smithy.’

  ‘You were the man who orchestrated it all. The failed Angolan coup, Mason’s murder, JP’s death, Sharon’s murder and our incarceration even though we were all innocent. Was it all worth it, now that you realise that your precious little Phoenix project is about to crumble around you?’

  Lord Butler smiled a bloody smile, a gaping hole where his tooth was. ‘You bet it was Gibbs, you were too bloody stupid to work it out until now.’

  Smithy punched him from the side, a loud crack rang out as Lord Butler’s cheek collapsed and he screamed in pain. ‘We are all here now, arsehole, and that’s all that matters. It is your turn to feel pain for all the misery you caused.’

  Lord Butler’s head dropped forward, blood pouring from his mouth onto the front of his white shirt.

  Gibbs grabbed Smithy by the shoulder and pulled him back. ‘Leave him to me, Smithy.’

  Smithy, his eyes mad with frenzy, stared at Gibbs for a few seconds, then he nodded and stood to the side, breathing heavily.

  Gibbs cocked the Glock and placed it against the top of Lord Butler’s balding head. ‘This is for everyone who has suffered because of you.’

  A strong hand grabbed Gibbs’s forearm and pulled his resistant gun arm away. Gibbs looked up, his eyes blinking furiously. Andrei Kirilenko shook his bloody head. ‘I know that you’ve been waiting a long time to see this done, but he needs to face a trial, Captain Gibbs. We need to make an exampl
e of him.’

  ‘Fuck that, Andrei. He has to die,’ Gibbs said, placing the Glock back on Lord Butler’s head. He pushed the barrel against the top of the bald man’s head, squeezing the trigger again. A small trickle of blood seeped out from the pressure of the metal as it pierced the skin.

  ‘Not by your hand, Gibbs. You might get your revenge now, but what about all the people out there in the Floodzone? People, who have suffered because of this man’s greed. Where is their justice?’

  Gibbs stared at Andrei a little longer and felt himself squeezing the trigger a little more. Christina would want the evil bastard to live with the knowledge that the Phoenix Council had been destroyed. Slowly he lowered the pistol.

  ‘Don’t be soft, Gibbs,’ Lord Butler said with a rasping voice.’ Bloody kill me.’

  Gibbs placed a boot on Lord Butler’s chest and kicked him to the floor, blood splattering on the ground as his head hit the concrete.

  Shredder walked through the door. ‘The last room is ready, boss.’

  ‘Drag this pond scum to it and lock him up.’

  ‘Gladly, boss, come on Lord Fancy Pants,’ Shredder said as he dragged him to his feet, making sure to cause him more pain. His body hung limply as they dragged him into the next room and locked the screaming Lord Butler inside.

  ‘I take it we are going to leave him there?’ Shredder asked.

  ‘Yup… Leave him to the rats,’ Gibbs said, walking back to the steel ladder where he dropped the key down the shaft.

  Gibbs turned back to look at Andrei, who was leaning against the corridor wall. He walked over to him and helped him retrieve a cigarette from his jacket. ‘So, Andrei. It was you who sent me the cell keys so we could escape the ship.’