Z-Series (Book 4): Z-Takeover

by Hatchett

  Issy padded to the door in bare feet and said, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Kyle. You need to come quickly, it looks like Mamba has taken over Heathrow.”

  Issy shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Mamba had been in Enfield just a couple of days ago, so it wasn’t possible that he could have got to Heathrow so quickly, let alone taken it over.

  “Are you sure?” Issy asked scornfully.

  “Yes, we’re listening in on Jack’s earpiece as we speak.”

  “Give me a couple of minutes.”

  Issy threw off the dressing gown, pulled the duvet off the bed shouting ‘get up’ and began throwing some clothes on.

  “What’s going on?” Andy asked, blinking his eyes against the light.

  “Heathrow’s been attacked.”

  Andy jumped from the bed and began to get changed, no thought given to taking a shower or brushing his hair or teeth. “How?” he asked.

  “Don’t know,” Issy replied with mounting fear as she tied the laces on the trainers she had been given. She rose from the bed, picked up her earpiece and walked across the room to unlock the door before swinging it wide open.

  Kyle was standing there looking grim and turned to head off down the corridor without saying a word. Issy followed then Andy, still in his bare feet, holding his shoes in one hand whilst trying to put on his shirt with the other.

  “Have you told Gina and Travis,” Issy asked as they walked along.

  “Jack Jr is doing it as we speak,” Kyle said, over his shoulder.

  Kyle took them to the communications room they had been in before. There was a group of people in there, all listening to the speakers intently. Issy had been introduced to them all the previous day, although she couldn’t remember all their names. She did remember Nathan Briggs, the man in charge. He was a well-built man in his mid-forties, about six feet tall with black hair and brown eyes and was sitting at the head of the table. He beckoned them in with a wave of his hand and within seconds of sitting down, Jean was placing mugs of hot steaming coffee in front of them.

  Issy inserted her earpiece even though she could already hear Jack and Mamba talking over the speakers in the room, but she could now also hear the other Leaders and quickly said that she was online.

  “Good to hear you Issy,” she heard Bear say. “There’s a few of us in the Hilton basement hiding out for now. We have no intel and no real plan yet on how we’re going to sort this. But we do have an idea we want to run past Andy. Is he there?”

  “Here,” Andy confirmed, fumbling still with his shirt buttons, “and Gina and Travis have just arrived and sat down next to us.”

  Gina and Travis inserted their earpieces, both looking like they’d been dragged backwards through a hedge.

  “How did Mamba get there so quickly?” Issy interrupted quietly, knowing that Jack would be able to hear her and not wanting to disturb him too much.

  “No idea,” Bear said.

  Daniel and Sean then came online, swiftly followed by Dave. Bear brought them all up to date with what was happening, including the news that the Chinooks were heading to Broadwater Farm to pick up reinforcements, but they were all still shocked that Mamba had managed to get into Heathrow without anyone knowing.

  “So, what do we do now?” Dave asked.

  “We listen and wait,” Issy suggested. “Jack will talk when he can and then we’ll get a better idea of what is going on. In the meantime, Dave, I think you’re safe because Mamba doesn’t know anything about Battersea. I think Daniel and Sean should move there temporarily in case Mamba decides to come after you.”

  “What about the Tower?” Daniel asked.

  “I’m sure Isaac, Zack, Grace and your Warders can look after the place while you’re away.”

  “OK Issy, we’ll take one of the boats,” Daniel confirmed.

  “Remember, Mamba only knows about Jack, the Major, Daniel, me and Gina. The rest of you are ghosts.”

  “He knows me as well,” Joel pointed out, “from when he captured me at the Tower.”

  “Talking of the Major, has anyone seen or heard from him?” Bear asked.

  There was no response.

  “I’ll assume that’s a ‘no’ then,” Bear said. “But as I was saying earlier, I think there is another way into Security Command and Andy should be able to confirm it one way or another. Jack talked about a secret link to Downing street.”

  “Yes,” Andy chipped it. “I used it when we were looking to see if we could use Downing street as another hub closer to the city. We managed to secure the building and took some stuff over there, but we didn’t have time to get any further than that. I used the secret lift behind the bookcase in Jack’s office. It took me to a small underground platform and tube train. Very James Bond.” He explained that the line went solely between Heathrow and Downing Street and he wasn’t aware of any other access points.

  “Could we take the train from Downing Street back to Heathrow?” Bear asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” Andy replied, “but the problem will be getting to Downing Street in the first place. Then we wouldn’t know what to expect when we arrived back in Jack’s office and could walk into anything. We could be shot as soon as the doors open.”

  “Don’t forget, I’ve been working on the trap we were trying to set for Mamba,” Joel pointed out. “It’s not finished, so anyone could use it to get into the airport relatively unseen.”

  “Good to know,” Issy said. “OK, let’s think about the options some more, but in the meantime, we wait and see how this plays out, then we decide what to do.”

  The Leaders agreed and went back to listening to what Jack and Mamba were talking about.

  70

  Day 19 – 06:00

  Broadwater Farm Estate, Tottenham

  The Turks waiting in the recreation ground heard the loud whupping of rotors before they could even see the two Chinooks approaching. It was now light, and the Turks could see for miles in the cloudless sky. It was going to be a lovely Autumn day, if a little on the chilly side.

  The massive helicopters came swooping in low over the nearby houses then slowly lowered themselves to the ground, the ramp at the rear already coming down before it touched down.

  The hundred or so Turks had split themselves into two groups, and once the helicopters had settled, they ran across the grass and up the ramps and quickly found a seat.

  A Turk on the ground signalled when everyone was on board and the ramps began rising as the engine noises increased and the Chinooks took off, heading back towards Heathrow.

  The heli’s had only been on the ground for less than five minutes.

  71

  Day 19 – 06:15

  Heathrow Terminal 3

  Ahmed was standing on the platform of one of the jetways as the Chinooks appeared and came into land.

  The ramp was lowered, and the Turks came streaming down onto the tarmac.

  They saw Ahmed waving and headed in his direction, climbed the steps and were ushered up the jetway into the open concourse on Level 2.

  Once they were all in the building, Ahmed followed them up the jetway then led them across the concourse and down the steps onto Level 1.

  The door to Security Command was open and Faruk and Ismet were standing there with a gleam in their eyes as they looked upon row after row of brand-new pistols and MP5’s which had been moved from the armoury.

  Ahmed ordered the Turks to grab themselves a weapon then split them into teams and outlined what they needed to do.

  He picked two teams totalling around fifteen men and specifically tasked them with bringing the prisoners standing outside the front of T3 into the large check-in area and to keep them guarded until further notice.

  He gave the rest of the teams different areas of the airport to sweep, including the remaining areas of T3 such as medical, searching for anybody who hadn’t complied with Mamba’s orders.

  “Can we shoot them?” asked one of the Turks.


  “Ya find anyone not in this buildin’, bring ‘em outside the entrance, line ‘em up and shoot ‘em,” Ahmed said. “Anyone not doin’ as they tol’, shoot ‘em. Got it?”

  There were nods all around.

  “Good, off ya go.”

  Ahmed watched them all head off and turned to see Faruk and Ismet staring blankly at him. These two really made him feel uncomfortable; they had seemed OK when he first met them, quiet and introverted, but did as they were told without question and kept a low profile. But, ever since he had found out they were responsible for the ‘art’ in the shopping arcade, he had been watching them more closely and didn’t particularly like what he saw.

  They were like a pair of cold-blooded lizards, standing like statues, but taking everything in. He half expected their tongues to flick out of their mouths to test the air at any second. You could almost see them thinking, and every now and again, an almost imperceptible smile would drift across their faces as if they were sending each other telepathic messages. Worst of all, he had to walk past them, leaving his back unguarded.

  “What?” he asked forcefully.

  They seemed to snap out of their trance and shook their heads before focusing on Ahmed. They almost looked scared, but Ahmed wasn’t taken in; they were a pair of murderous bastards and he wouldn’t trust them for one second.

  Faruk: “Sorry?”

  Ismet: “Have we done something…”

  Faruk: “Wrong?”

  “You were staring at me. What do ya want?” Ahmed asked.

  Ismet: “We were?”

  Faruk: “I don’t think so.”

  Ismet: “Nor me.”

  Faruk: “If we were…”

  Ismet: “It wasn’t intentional.”

  Ahmed again noticed the way they seemed to finish each other’s sentences, often robotically without any emotion, again as if they were reading each other’s thoughts, and it was quite unnerving once you noticed that they did it all the time.

  “Ya two’re twins ain’t ya?” Ahmed asked

  Faruk: “Yes.”

  Ismet: “We are.”

  “That explains it then,” Ahmed confirmed aloud.

  Faruk: “Explains...”

  Ismet: “What?”

  “It don’t matter boys,” Ahmed explained.

  He shivered as if a ghost had walked over his grave, then shook his head to snap himself out of it. He wanted to be as far away from these two as possible and he’d have to have a word with Mamba about them. These two needed putting down, but he suspected Mamba would stick up for them.

  “Back to it,” Ahmed said, and carefully sidled past them and headed back to the Security Command Centre.

  72

  Day 19 – 06:30

  Heathrow Terminal 3, Security Command Centre

  Ahmed sauntered into the Security Command Centre, belying the uneasiness he felt following his confrontation with the twins. He passed by Basir, who was still guarding the Major and the operatives, as he made his way across the floor to the Command Ring where he found Jack, Mamba and Ayla sitting next to each other, the latter two watching the screens in fascination.

  Mamba looked away from the screens as Ahmed arrived, as if he had sensed him rather than heard him.

  “Got ourselves an army,” Mamba announced with a smile.

  “Yeah, bro,” Ahmed agreed. “What now?”

  “Now, I gotta go see Volkan. Did ya find me that pilot?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the hallway,” Ahmed said. “He’s bin sittin’ there ‘bout half an hour since the other pilots went off in the big birds.”

  “Ya sorted the troops?”

  “Yeah, bro, all done,” Ahmed confirmed, “but I need a quiet word.”

  “Oh yeah? What ‘bout?”

  “Yer two pals out there, the ‘artistes’” Ahmed replied, pointing over his shoulder.

  “What they done?” Mamba asked.

  “They ain’t right in the head, mate.”

  “Tell me summat I don’t know. So?”

  “They loose cannons, bro. We need to do summat ‘bout ‘em.”

  “They’re OK, I’ll keep ‘em busy.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

  “Don’t worry bro, come and sit here and keep me seat warm. If ya need ta give orders, then Gert over there,” Mamba said pointing, “can turn the speakers on and off wherever ya want. OK? Shoot any of ‘em if they don’t do what they tol’.”

  “Yeah, man, whatever,” Ahmed confirmed with a resigned shrug.

  Mamba got out of his seat and allowed Ahmed to take it. “Watch this,” he said. “Gert, switch on the speakers to the check-in area only.”

  There was a tapping of keys then Gert confirmed it was ready.

  Mamba looked at the screen showing the check-in area, and the crowd of people slowly filing in, being watched carefully by the armed Turks. He then leant over and flicked the switch on the nearest of the chairs and said sarcastically, “Welcome to Hell. Please take a seat on the floor ‘n stay there. Anyone who doesn’t do what they tol’ will be shot.”

  Mamba turned the switch off and stood back up, watching the reaction on the screen. Most people were too cold to care what he had said, but a couple of men obviously weren’t happy and approached the Turks. A second later, the two men were both down on the floor with a pool of blood spreading out beneath them. One of the Turks stepped forward and put another bullet in each of their heads just to make sure.

  Mamba was entranced. The rest of the people quickly moved into the massive space and dropped to the floor. There was obviously some noise, but Mamba couldn’t hear anything. “Gert, can we get sound?”

  “Yes,” Gert confirmed and used her mouse.

  Sound came through the speakers and Mamba could hear a lot of crying and swearing. He flicked the switch on the chair and said, “Ya was warned.”

  He flicked off the switch and watched and listened as the room grew instantly quieter, those that had been crying either sobered up very quickly or muffled their noise with help from their clothing. Mamba could see that some of the men in the room were still staring at the Turks, obviously looking for the chance to attack.

  “Ya betta warn the heroes, Jack, otherwise I’m gonna have ta go down there, line ‘em up then slit all their throats.”

  Jack looked at Mamba to check if he was being serious. One look at his face was enough to convince him that he was.

  Jack quickly flicked the switch on his own chair and warned everyone to do as they were told.

  That seemed to do the trick and the people in the check-in hall calmed down and waited to see what would happen next.

  “All these people are going to want to eat and use the toilet,” Jack pointed out.

  “They can wait,” Mamba replied. “What do ya have fer breakfast ‘round here?”

  “Whatever you want, including a full English,” Jack said.

  Mamba was salivating at the thought of eggs, sausages and bacon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a proper meal. For the past couple of weeks, it had been something cold from a packet that he had managed to scavenge from one of the many abandoned supermarkets or shops. He was fed up to the back teeth with Peperoni and didn’t want to see the familiar green packet ever again.

  “Better tell the chef’s ta get their arses in gear,” Mamba told him, “but if they get any ideas ‘bout their big knives, they dead, OK?”

  “OK,” Jack confirmed, and passed on the message.

  A number of people rose from the floor in check-in and looked uncertainly towards the guards, who were looking back with stony expressions. Sami took the lead and indicated with his gun that the people standing should move towards the stairs leading up to Level 1, where most of the restaurants were based. The chefs were then escorted by half a dozen Turks from a different team.

  “I gotta go, Ahmed, won’t be long,” Mamba said. “Hold the fort.”

  Mamba left the Security Command Centre and entered the hallway. He saw a man i
n his thirties sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, looking thoroughly bored.

  As Mamba approached the pilot stood up and tried to sink into the wall.

  “Pilot?” Mamba asked.

  The pilot nodded.

  “Let’s go,” Mamba ordered, pointing up the hallway.

  The pilot took the lead, Mamba following closely behind.

  “What’s yer name?” Mamba asked.

  “Callum,” the pilot replied over his shoulder.

  They walked past Faruk and Ismet onto the concourse of Level 1.

  Faruk: “Boss…”

  Ismet: “Can we go now?”

  “What ya wanna do?” Mamba asked suspiciously, thinking back to what Ahmed had just said to him.

  Faruk: “We want to…”

  Ismet: “Have a look around.”

  Faruk: “See the sights.”

  Ismet: “Maybe move the dead bodies.”

  Faruk: “We heard the shots.”

  Mamba thought about it. He knew exactly what this pair of nutters were thinking, but he had a better idea.

  “How ‘bout ya use ‘em bodies to make a new sculpture? Right outside the entrance. That way, everyone gets reminded what happens if they don’t do as they tol’.”

  Faruk and Ismet were almost besides themselves with excitement. They were like a pair of dogs salivating at the thought of food, their eyes wide and wild.

  “What ya waitin’ fer?” Mamba asked, and Faruk and Ismet sprinted towards the stairs which would take them down to the ground floor where they could retrieve their rucksacks and tools before heading to the check-in area.

  Mamba shook his head and smiled. Those boys were really gonna make the natives sick…literally.

  Mamba nodded towards the pilot and they resumed their walk towards Level 2 and access to the apron.

  “Broadwater Farm. Ya bin there?” Mamba asked as they left the jetway and started down the steps onto the apron.

  “I know where it is,” came the curt response.

  Mamba started walking towards the helicopters then stopped and looked around with a confused look on his face. “I thought ya had more birds.”