Z-Series (Book 4): Z-Takeover

by Hatchett

  Faruk: “Trolleys.”

  Ismet: “Yeah Trolleys.”

  Faruk: “Think we can do something?”

  Ismet: “Definitely.”

  The two hurried off in different directions, claimed a trolley each and brought it back to where the bodies were lying.

  Faruk: “One each or together?”

  Ismet: “One each.”

  Faruk: “Competition?”

  Ismet: “Yeah, we can get Mamba to choose the best.”

  Faruk: “You’re on!”

  Both men knelt at the same time and started unloading their rucksack. Out came saws, screwdrivers, hammers, boxcutters, scalpels, cotton and thread, metal wire, scissors and a whole array of other equipment which they might need.

  77

  Day 19 – 07:00

  Heathrow Terminal 3, Security Command Centre

  Mamba strolled back into the Security Command Centre singing Queen’s ‘One Vision’ to himself, arms waving and shoulders moving like a boxer heading to the ring. He gave Basir a thumbs up as he passed by, leaving Basir with a big smile on his face.

  “Ya look happy,” Ahmed noted, as Mamba strutted into view doing his best Freddie Mercury impression.

  “Can ya put music on, Gert?” Mamba asked, still strutting to the imaginary tune.

  “Some,” Gert confirmed.

  “Queen. ‘One Vision’?

  “I don’t know, I’ll look,” Gert said, then turned to her PC.

  “It ain’t a fuckin’ jukebox,” Ahmed pointed out.

  “Don’t be so fuckin’ miserable Ahmed, what’s the matter with ya?”

  “What ya so fuckin’ pleased ‘bout anyway?”

  Mamba stopped jigging around and stood staring at Ahmed. “Duh! No more fuckin’ Volkan. Arrogant prick he was. Dressed like a fairy too.”

  “Jus’ cos his fuckin’ suit cost more’n ya could ever dream of,” Ahmed shot back.

  “Well, his fuckin’ suit is a bit shitty right now Ahmed, and I can’t see him shoppin’ for a new one anytime soon. Ya could say he’s broke.” Mamba started laughing. “Broke! Get it?”

  Ahmed just shook his head.

  “Boys, do you have to argue?” Ayla asked sweetly.

  Mamba rounded on her, “Ya can fuckin’ shut it an’ all!”

  Mamba looked around at the screens and saw the main one was showing the section of the apron where the body of the dead pilot lay. When he turned back, the three were staring at him.

  “So, why did you kill the pilot?” Ayla asked the question on everyone’s lips.

  “He shouldn’t’ve fired missiles at me.”

  “It was him?” Ahmed asked in surprise.

  “Who’d ya think it was? The fuckin’ tooth fairy? Anyway, wasn’t really his fault, he was just the messenger.”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger!” Ahmed shouted, and they both started laughing.

  “Too fuckin’ late for that!” Mamba replied.

  Suddenly Mamba stopped laughing and stared directly at Jack.

  “Bit quiet ain’t ya?” Mamba asked.

  “Just taking everything in,” Jack replied.

  “Yer and me are goin’ to breakfast, Jack. We’ve gotta lot to discuss, ‘n the smells out there,” he indicated the direction of the concourse, “are fuckin’ great.”

  “OK,” Jack confirmed, rising to his feet.

  “Can I come?” Ayla asked.

  “No ya fuckin’ can’t,” Mamba spat. “Ya can go with Ahmed after. Come on Jack. Ya lead, I’ll follow.”

  Jack headed for the exit with Mamba following a couple of paces behind.

  “I still gotta find me the arsehole who ordered the missiles fired,” Mamba said lightly.

  Jack’s stride nor demeanour changed, and he continued on into the hallway.

  “I’m bettin’ on the Major,” Mamba suggested casually, trying to provoke Jack into responding.

  Jack said nothing, but continued walking.

  “He a dead man walkin’,” Mamba continued. “Might cut his eyes out first, then chop his finger’s off.”

  “Jack! Tell him I’m the one who ordered the hit!” came Issy’s shout through his earpiece, causing him to wince a little and quickly scratch his ear to lower the volume.

  “I ordered the strike,” Jack admitted.

  “Jesus, no!” he heard Issy shriek in his ear.

  Mamba laughed. “I know that, Jack. Yer the Boss. Stands ta reason. Nothin’ ‘round here gets done unless Jack says so. Yer da man!”

  Jack left Security Command and headed across the concourse to the departures area. Once they were inside, Jack turned to Mamba to see him gazing around in awe.

  “Where’s the food?” he asked, staring at the high ceiling and licking his lips.

  78

  Day 19 – 07:15

  Hendon Police College

  “Why did he do that?” Issy asked no one in particular. “That fucking psycho could kill him any second. If he’d just said I’d given the order - like I did - there’s nothing Mamba could do about it.”

  They were all in the communications room with the same people as earlier, but at least they were now clean and tidy.

  Andy put his hand on Issy’s arm to calm her down.

  “I think Mamba had already decided it was Jack’s order,” Gina said, “and wouldn’t have believed him if he’d said anything else. Mamba probably respects Jack more for owning up.”

  “Respect? Mamba doesn’t know the meaning of the word,” Issy pointed out.

  “I agree with Gina,” Travis said. “If Jack had said it was you, Issy, Mamba wouldn’t have believed him and just thought he was a coward for trying to pass the blame onto someone who wasn’t there. At least this way, he might show some respect and see Jack as ‘off limits’, for now at least.

  “No one is off limits as far as Mamba is concerned,” Issy pointed out. “We’ve seen what him and his sidekick are capable of doing on several occasions. Look what he did to Sully and Volkan, and anyone else who pisses him off or gets in his way.”

  “Well, Sully and Volkan won’t be missed,” Andy pointed out.

  “Not the point,” Issy replied.

  “He didn’t kill you and Gina though, did he?” Andy argued. “After all you’ve done to try and kill him, and he still took you both with him when it would’ve been easier to kill you.”

  “He hadn’t finished with us,” Issy replied without thinking.

  “What do you mean?” Andy asked with concern.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Issy said quickly, ignoring Andy’s stare. She also saw Travis look to Gina for an explanation from the corner of her eye. “What we need to do now is work out how we’re going to get Heathrow back, and for that, we need Joel to tell us about the trap.”

  79

  Day 19 – 07:15

  Hilton Hotel

  The group in the hotel basement had been listening to developments while they completed their table map.

  They’d heard footsteps in the corridor around fifteen minutes earlier and had quickly killed the lights in the room and kept quiet, MP5’s at the ready in case they were needed.

  In the pitch black, they’d listened intently to a group of Turks chatting and messing around as they tried the doors of the rooms leading off the corridor and searching those that opened.

  The Turks had tried the handle to their storage room and had thankfully carried onwards when they found it was locked. Bear’s team let out a collective sigh once they had gone, pleased that the Turks weren’t overly concerned about checking every nook and cranny, but at the same time disappointed that they couldn’t take out their frustration on them.

  With no Turks outside, they switched the lights back on and in response to Issy’s request, Joel began to explain how the traps worked. Tom, who was still in his locked bedroom on the third floor, chipped in now and again when he thought Joel had missed something important.

  When they had finished the explanation, Sarah’s voice came through their ea
rpieces.

  “You’re not going to believe what I’m seeing,” she said, “Two young Turks have been chopping up the two bodies that were shot earlier and now they’re…I think I’m going to be sick!”

  80

  Day 19 – 07:15

  Heathrow Terminal 3, Departure Lounge

  “Time ta talk turkey,” Mamba said, around a mouthful of sausage and egg. He had a massive plate piled high with greasy cooked food, while Jack made do with a croissant and some fruit.

  Mamba and Jack were sitting alone at a table in one of the restaurants. There were a couple of armed Turks keeping a close watch on the chefs in the kitchen and helping themselves to some of the breakfast which had been laid out.

  “Why do they say that?” Mamba asked.

  “Why do who, say what?” Jack asked, confused.

  “Why do people say, ‘talk turkey’?”

  “I have no idea,” Jack replied. “Cowboy films?”

  “Maybe. Dunno. Anyway, now I’ve got yer attention all to myself, where are Cobra and the Princess?”

  “Who?”

  Mamba laughed. “Ah, ya don’t know! Issy and Gina.”

  “I told you I have no idea where they are.”

  “I don’t believe ya, Jack.”

  “Believe what you want. Anyway, why do you call them Cobra and the Princess?” he asked, trying to change the subject, but not really interested in the answer.

  “Well, the Princess is obvious; she looks like a Princess, don’t she? All that pretty blond hair ‘n blue eyes. Nice tits too. Just right. More than a handful’s too much, right?” he said with a leer. “Now, Cobra, that’s a different matter. She ain’t got any tits but has this tattoo…”

  “I don’t need to know,” Jack informed him.

  “Spoilsport! I’ll let ya think ‘bout it.” Mamba paused and took a mouthful of bacon and mushrooms with a piece of toast, then followed it up with a slurp of his coffee. “God, this is good. Like heaven. How’d ya get eggs?”

  “We’ve been collecting different animals as we come across them and have set up our own little farm on the other side of the airport.”

  Mamba thought about it. “Very organised ain’t ya?”

  “We’ve got to plan for the future, if we’re to have a future. Something you should consider.”

  Mamba thought some more. “The only future I think ‘bout is what I’m gonna do after I’ve eaten this,” he said, jabbing his knife and fork in the direction of his plate.

  “Maybe that’s the problem.”

  Mamba stared at Jack, scrutinising him, wondering if he should take his advice or just shoot him in the head. Condescending bastard or nice guy? The jury was still out, but his pistol was just a few inches away if he got the urge.

  Jack could see Mamba looking at him and realised that he might have gone too far. He’d heard about Mamba’s now-legendary temper and how quick he could turn, and he reminded himself to think before he spoke.

  Mamba seemed to come out of whatever internal discussion that was going on. “Ya like ‘Down Under’ by Men at Work?” he asked.

  Jack was totally thrown by the question. Where had that come from? What was the answer?

  “I’m not sure I know it,” he replied cautiously.

  “Ya must know it! Never mind.” Mamba dismissed the subject instantly with a wave of his hand. “Yer a bit too sensible and dull, Jack, need to get a life.”

  “We’ve only got one life and we need to do whatever we can to preserve it,” Jack suggested.

  “Life’s cheap, Jack. One day yer’ll realise it. Were ya in the army?”

  “No, police.”

  “A fuckin’ pig, eh? Oink Oink.” Mamba obviously found this amusing and started laughing. Jack just stared back at him solemnly. “Why’d ya become a pig?”

  “I wanted to keep people safe,” Jack replied.

  “Serve ‘n protect ‘n all that shit? Borin’! How’d ya think yer doin’?

  “OK, I guess. Until now.”

  “Ya see Jack, yer kind ain’t on the same wavelength as me. Ya don’t think like me, so ya ain’t got a clue. Too fuckin’ easy fer me, ‘n I don’t even have ta try very hard.”

  Jack looked at Mamba and thought he was probably right. He was definitely on a totally different planet, there wasn’t much doubt about that. He wondered if there was a decent bone in the man’s body.

  “Where’s Daniel?” Mamba asked, suddenly changing the direction of the conversation again.

  “He was at the Tower the last time I spoke to him.”

  “When was that?”

  “Yesterday, I think. Why do you want Daniel?”

  “Unfinished business.”

  “You realise he’s helping some of your old gang members?”

  “Fuckin’ traitors!” Mamba responded vehemently.

  “Like the ones at the Green Park Estate?” Jack asked. “Were they all traitors too?”

  “That weren’t supposed to happen!” Mamba replied, defensively. “The fuckin’ Turks overdid it with the bombs.”

  “But why bomb it in the first place? Like here, instead of fighting and bombing, why couldn’t we all work together?”

  “Ain’t gonna happen, Jack.”

  “Why?”

  “I ain’t a fuckin’ farmer.”

  “I know that, but there’s plenty of other things to do.”

  “Borin’. I need excitement.”

  “Well, why don’t you find it outside this airport and leave us alone to try and rebuild?”

  “Nah, we got history. Ya stepped on my toes, Jack, ‘n now I’m steppin’ on yers. Anyway, time ta go.”

  Mamba scraped his plate with his remaining bit of toast and stuffed it into his mouth before he stood up, scraping his chair back on the tiled floor.

  Jack also rose and followed Mamba towards the exit.

  81

  Day 19 – 07:30

  Hendon Police College

  Listening intently to Jack and Mamba’s conversation, Andy and Travis had looked pointedly at Issy and Gina when Mamba started talking about them, while the two women kept their heads down and ignored them.

  “Cobra eh?” Andy had whispered in Issy’s ear, “and how would he know about that?”

  “Later!” Issy had hissed back, and Andy let it drop for the time being.

  They continued listening and when it was clear the conversation was over for the time being, Issy looked up.

  “Time to get organised. Dave, you there?”

  “Here Issy,” came through her earpiece.

  “What heli’s have you got there? We’ve got one of our Chinooks, one of our Lynx’s and one of our Apache’s. There’s also two police Airbus EC 145’s which we can use.”

  “There’s two Chinooks at Heathrow plus a Lynx and an Apache, obviously none of which are available. We’ve got a Lynx and an Apache, but we could get another Chinook or two from RAF Odiham. I think Joel found some in working order but left them there for the time being.”

  “Yes, there’s a few there,” Joel piped in over the earpiece. The pilots know where they are.”

  “OK. We need at least one more Chinook here. I’ve been speaking to Nathan Briggs, who’s in charge here, and he’s prepared to help us mount an assault on Heathrow. We’ve got around seventy men here.”

  “There’s around fifty here, Issy,” Dave confirmed. “We could leave a skeleton crew here and the rest could join you.”

  “OK, but that means getting a third Chinook. Get some pilots over to Odiham, then get them to fly here.”

  “Will do.”

  “Issy, I could get some people from the Tower if it would help?” Daniel cut in.

  “That’s OK, Daniel, I think we’ll have enough with here and Battersea. Bear, you on?”

  “Here Issy,” Bear replied.

  “Are you ready to move?”

  “We’re ready, just give us the word.”

  82

  Day 19 – 07:30

  Heathrow Termina
l 3, Level 1 Concourse

  “Come with me, Jack,” Mamba suggested as he headed to the stairs leading down to the ground.

  “Where are we going?” Jack asked.

  “Got summat I want to show ya.”

  Mamba took Jack across the ground floor concourse, skirting the check-in area on the way to the exit.

  Jack had turned to look at all the people sitting on the floor in check-in and he tried to give them an encouraging smile as he searched frantically for Sarah. He remembered vividly her last comment about feeling sick and was worried about her. ‘What else had she said?’ Something about two Turks chopping up dead bodies or something. He looked around some more but couldn’t see what she had been referring to and couldn’t find Sarah either.

  He almost walked into Mamba when they reached the exit and had to turn to look where he was going. The sight that awaited him on the other side of the glass was the stuff of nightmares and he involuntarily stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Come on, Jack,” Mamba encouraged him, “I want ya to meet a couple of me mates.”

  Mamba swung open the door and ushered Jack outside before following and leading him up to Faruk and Ismet.

  “Guys! I see ya bin busy!” Mamba laughed. “This is Jack. He’s a VIP.”

  Faruk: “Yeah we’re busy, hello Jack.”

  Ismet: “Yeah we’re very busy, hello Jack.”

  Jack felt his insides turning. He thought he had seen everything during his career, but this pair and what they had done gave him a serious chill.

  Faruk: “Ismet broke his…”

  Ismet: “Saw.”

  Ismet walked a few paces and stooped to pick up his broken saw to show Mamba. The broken blade was still shiny red from all the blood and there were still some strips of skin hanging from the teeth.

  “That’s a wood saw, yer plank!” Mamba pointed out. laughing. “Get it? Wood. Plank? Ya need a metal saw, lasts longer.”

  Faruk: “It was the…”

  Ismet: “Bones”

  Faruk: “Hard to cut.”

  “Well, it looked like ya managed it,” Mamba said, grinning.

  Ismet: “We haven’t…”