“We’ll make it work. They will have nothing to prove otherwise. If this thing goes south, we lose a lot more than a couple of bystanders, it would change the global balance of power. I’m not risking anything that could cost the US our strongest ally. We already lost France, Spain, and most of Europe. There’s socialism everywhere, and a resurgence of communism barking up its ass behind it. And after all the protests in the streets this past summer the arrests in Portland, and the debacle at Lafayette Square, the US is not on anyone’s favorite ally list. Without you Brits, we’d be on our own in a screwed-up world. Don’t try pulling a Brexit on America, I won’t let it happen. We need you more than ever, we need your bases, and we need your troops. Do whatever you have to do to end this as soon as possible. DNI rules red card on all three, American or not. Got it?”
“Got it,” acknowledged Colin.
That was all America’s Director of National Intelligence needed to hear, and he ended the call without another word.
Colin waited for the line to clear before removing the secure access USB from the phone’s port.
He slipped the cell into his pants pocket and peeled off his suit jacket exposing his Kydex polymer shoulder holster. He crossed the room to a large steel panel inlaid into the concrete wall and pressed his right hand against a LASER scanner to recognize his palm print and open the digital lock. With a soft click, the heavy door released, revealing a mass of military hardware arranged inside.
He reached in and took out a Kevlar vest for body protection and an assault helmet with a tempered full-face visor. He swung his glance across the multiple firearms waiting in the armored enclosure and decided on a Heckler & Koch G36 automatic rifle. It already had a clip in place, but his years in the field made him grab a spare and drop it into his vest. He smiled to himself as he felt its welcome weight but knew it was almost definitely unnecessary as he was certain thirty rounds of the steel jacketed 5.56 x 45mm NATO issued cartridges would more than suffice to end the problem posed by an unarmed girl, a teenager, and a university professor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Assault On Park Lane
The rooftop suite at The Dorchester was even more beautiful and elegant than they had been led to expect. The six-room apartment featured an ornate gas fireplace with intricate moldings, bay windows with a balcony, a long, exquisite dining room table, enough for a dozen guests, and canopied four-poster beds in each individual bedroom. A welcoming gift basket overflowing with strawberries, chocolates, and champagne sat waiting to be enjoyed, on a small, marble-topped table near the doors to the outside terrace.
Cate was in awe as she tried to absorb it, “This hotel is classic. I feel like we’ve stepped into a Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn movie set.”
Alex had to agree, “They may have stayed here. The Dorchester was designed specifically for Europe and America’s elite back in 1931. They installed all the latest fixtures for the day, elevators, central heating, air conditioning...”
Eddie slid back a partially open wall panel revealing a big, deep area behind it, “Even a space for a built-in TV.”
Alex smiled, “It’s a dumbwaiter. They didn’t have televisions in the thirties.”
“No TVs?” Eddie was shocked, “What did they do at night?”
“They had conversations, played chess, read books, and listened to radio shows. Television didn’t become widely available to the general public for another decade, until after the end of World War II,” said Alex.
“How do you know all this stuff? Do you have degrees in it?” wondered Eddie.
“Sometimes I think I do,” replied Alex.
The house phone rang, interrupting them. Alex crossed to the sandalwood desk and answered it, “Hello?”
A familiar voice sounded in the receiver, “Hello, Mr. Turner. It’s the front desk calling. I wanted to make sure the room is to your satisfaction.”
“Absolutely. It seems to have everything we need,” assured Alex.
“Glad to hear it. And will the three of you be staying in your room for a while?”
“I think so. Why?” It seemed a strange question.
“I ask it of all our guests who are new to our town. If you plan to go out tonight, please don’t hesitate to call us first before you leave, so we can help you with any arrangements or reservations you might need made for shows or transportation.”
“We will certainly do that, thank you.”
Alex hung up and turned his attention back to his companions, “What’s going on, Eddie? What happened to you? We’ve been told so many different things.”
“All I know is some English dude came to see me at Juvie Hall, stuck me with something, and I woke up in London. A doctor must have done this to my hand, because I heard one talking about samples and a match being positive. Then I got out of there. That’s it.”
“Can I see what they did?” asked Cate.
Eddie held it out, “Be careful, it’s really sore.”
Cate slowly unwrapped the gauze bandage and grimaced at the sight beneath it, “They surgically removed a square patch of skin. It looks nasty.”
“It doesn’t feel good. Why would they do that to me?”
Alex thought through the possible reasons, “Medicine is not my field, so I can’t be certain. But for all its size, it’s shallow and not too intrusive. Perhaps it was to get a DNA sample.”
“Why would they take so much skin? I got a DNA test kit for Christmas last year and it used spit. Couldn’t they have done a swab in Eddie’s mouth?”
“It wouldn’t have hurt as bad,” grinned Eddie.
“From what I’ve heard, they use saliva for commercial purposes,” said Alex. “For medical accuracy, if bone isn’t available, blood or skin, or a combination of both, is preferred, and a simple swab obviously can’t take that. But something like this, with so much skin removed is puzzling. All I can think of is they wanted to run multiple tests for confirmation and decided on a larger sample.”
“I’m glad they think of my hand as a larger sample!” said Eddie, sarcastically. “But I don’t understand why would anyone want to do tests on me? They could have asked and I would have told them who my mom and dad were.”
“That’s one of the things we have to figure out, Eddie. Anything else you remember?”
“Yeah. When I woke up here in London, the doctor was calling the other dude, the one who drugged me in Cali, ‘Mr. Brown’.”
Cate and Alex shot surprised glances at each other. Eddie picked up on their look, “Do you know him?”
“I think we do. It must be Colin Brown, the man who paid us to find you. You had no knowledge of him before, right? No meetings, calls, letters, anything?”
“No. He just showed up saying he was my uncle. I played along to get a break from working in the metal shop. I didn’t know he was psycho.”
“I’m more confused now than I was back in the States,” Cate shook her head to gather her thoughts, “I’m going out on the terrace.”
“Good idea. Let’s all get some air.”
They stood together on the wide stone balcony overlooking London’s famed Hyde Park more than a hundred feet below, and gazed out at the spectacular view of the lights and the city at night.
“If we have time, maybe we could explore the park tomorrow. Susan and I saw The Cure play there a couple of years ago. Awesome experience,” recalled Cate.
“Who are The Cure?” asked Eddie.
“The Cure are only one of the all-time great bands.”
Eddie’s look remained blank.
“Come on. You must have heard Just Like Heaven or Friday I’m In Love or Fascination Street?”
“Nope. Not on my playlist. Let me know if Billie Eilish comes in concert. I’d score tickets for that.”
“I don’t think we’ll be seeing any shows while we’re here. We need to figure out what’s going on then get you back…” Alex almost said home and realized his error, “back to America.”
“We should enjoy tonight.
It’s a beautiful evening. There’s no traffic now.”
They stared down at Park Lane. Cate was right. There was not a single car on the wide, multi-lane road.
“That’s weird,” said Eddie. “It’s never once been like this since I got here. Usually it’s a racetrack. There’s always cars, and trucks, and buses, and bikes, all going around the park, twenty-four seven.”
Cate pointed into the distance, “That could be the reason. See the flashing lights? It looks like an accident at the far end of the road. And there are more lights in that direction as well. Could be a couple of crashes holding up the traffic.”
Alex stared at the red and blue lights and wasn’t so sure, “But then it would be backed up here as well because nothing would be getting through or getting out. There’d be cars stuck below us, and they wouldn’t be moving. Instead, the roads right here are completely empty. It’s as if this hotel is the epicenter of something and they’ve cleared the area around it and are not letting traffic in. Almost like it’s been sealed off.” He sensed a serious problem and swung to Eddie, “Have you told us everything? Is there anything you’ve holding back?”
Eddie hesitated before he opened up, “There is one thing, but it’s not true. I didn’t want to tell you in case you thought it was.”
“What is it?”
“They have my photograph in all the newspapers. They say I’m wanted for drug smuggling. But it’s a lie, I’ve never done drugs, I never will, not after what happened to my mom. Worst I’ve done is steal things and hotwire cars. But the papers say it’s drugs...and guns.”
“Was your name in the paper with your picture?”
“Yeah. Huge letters. EDDIE YORK. Like I was an ad for something."
Alex’s eyes opened wide, “My God! We told the clerk downstairs we were looking for you.”
“And he saw you with us at the desk,” added Cate, picking up on his urgency.
“And then he called to check we were all still in the room-”
A blinding light cut off his words, as a thirty-million candlepower nightsun spotlight burned across the three of them and the thundering of a Sea King helicopter’s twin rotor blades drowned out their voices as the massive craft roared into view, hovering yards from the balcony.
Alex screamed to be heard, “Inside!”
They turned and high-tailed it into the suite that blazed white from the chopper’s intense floodlight.
“What do we do?” Cate was frantic.
“We have to get Eddie out of the hotel,” urged Alex.
Knowing when not to argue, Cate grabbed her backpack, and the fugitives sprinted for the door.
The Dorchester’s busy lobby had been cleared of guests, and in their place, twenty heavily armed men in assault gear were assembled, waiting for their orders. Colin, equally equipped, marched forward with the desk clerk scurrying after him, and spread open a blueprint schematic of the hotel across one of the lobby’s antique mahogany tables.
“Are they still in their room on the top floor?” demanded Colin.
“Yes, sir. They were when I called to check, as you told me to do. I haven’t seen them come down.” The clerk tried to conceal his nerves, confronted by these fearsome para-military troops.
“You have three elevators, correct?” Colin barked at the clerk.
“Three guest elevators. There’s also a service elevator in the kitchen,” the clerk quivered as he replied.
“I want them all shut down – but not the service elevator. My team will take it up. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir, I can.”
“Then don’t stand here, get to it. Throw the switch or pull the plug. Whatever it takes. Shut them down now.”
“Yes, sir.” The clerk raced off to do as ordered.
Simon, also dressed in full tactical gear, joined Colin. “All my teams are in place. The entryway is sealed. This entire downstairs area is clear of civilians.”
Colin nodded in approval, “Good. Our targets are on the top floor. The only way down now will be the two sets of stairs used for emergencies. Split your men into two groups of seven. Take both sets of the side stairs, leaving a man on each floor as you go up. No one is to pass them. That will seal off those exits. And remember, these people are armed and extremely dangerous. Take no chances. All measures can and should be used. I will not have any of your men hurt or injured. Understood?”
“I appreciate that. I’ll have my teams on the stairs now. I will stay here and monitor the lobby. You can coordinate with me by radio.”
“Roger that.” Colin waved to the remaining five men waiting for their orders, “With me. We are going up.”
The six trained killers pounded across the marble floors to the only elevator that remained functioning in the hotel.
In the hallway of the penthouse level, Alex, Eddie and Cate waited anxiously for an elevator to arrive. Cate reached forward and stabbed the already lit button.
“That won’t make it come any quicker,” Alex’s tone was disparaging.
Cate shrugged, “Always works for me.”
To spite him, she pushed the call button again. Alex glanced up at the antiquated display above the golden elevator doors. The three stationary arrows showed they were all still on the ground floor, not moving.
“It’s no use, they’re not coming. They’ve shut them down. We have to take the stairs.” He turned and saw the lighted sign at the end of the long, carpeted hallway showing Fire Exit. “This way,” called Alex, and the three of them took off at a run.
They reached the stairs in seconds and Eddie pushed open the fire door, but even as he hit the stark concrete landing of the hotel’s emergency staircase, he paused. Below him, shaking the narrow passageway, was the unmistakable sound of men racing toward them.
“Shit. They’re coming up,” warned Eddie.
“We can’t go this way either,” said Alex, and they hustled back into the corridor.
“What now?” asked Cate.
Cate and Eddie stared at Alex, hoping this man who had uncomfortably assumed the mantle of leadership, could find a solution. He dropped his head forward into his hand. He was not used to this role, this responsibility. What should he do? A light went off in his brain.
“Back to the room,” he cried.
“The room?” questioned Cate.
“Follow me.” Alex was already running to their rooftop suite.
The door flew open and the hunted trio barreled back inside the luxury apartment.
“What are we doing?” Cate demanded.
“Getting out,” yelled Alex.
“Are you nuts? There’s no way out of here unless we jump off the balcony and die.” Eddie frantically looked around what had become their palatial prison.
Alex was still moving. He reached the far wall by the dining room table, and slid open the panel concealing the ancient dumbwaiter, “We can go down this way.”
Cate joined him, and even as Alex heaved on the heavy rope to bring up the big wooden box, she stared into the dark shaft plunging straight down eight floors through the hotel.
“We can’t go in there,” the fear in her voice was obvious.
“We have to. The stairs and the elevators have been closed off to us. There’s no other way out.” Alex did a last heave and the dumbwaiter clicked into place. “Okay, get in.”
Cate looked at the big, open box dangling over the one-hundred-foot drop. It was four feet square, designed for bringing up huge, heavy trays loaded with dinners and drinks for the fortunate guests of the opulent penthouse suite, and secured only by an antiquated rope and pulley system. She shook her head violently, “In there? All of us?”
“Yes. It’ll be tight, but we can make it work.”
“Look, professor, I’ve got an idea. We’ve done nothing. We’ll be okay. Eddie should go by himself. We can meet up with him later.” Cate was desperate.
“Cate, something’s happening here we don’t understand. They have already faked Eddie’s death, stolen him fro
m a secure detention facility, transported him against his will between two countries, and carried out an unsanctioned operation on him. Those are all huge international violations of human rights and would not have been done lightly. You yourself said how much they have been willing to spend. Whoever these people are, whatever their motives, we can’t let them take the boy. We have to get him out of here and go to the embassy on our terms, otherwise who knows what could happen to Eddie, or even to us.”
Eddie pushed between the two of them and seized Cate’s attention, “The professor is right. We all have to go. You saw what they did to me. If you stay, they’ll do the same to you, or worse! They sent a helicopter after us, for fuck’s sake. You don’t do that if you’re here to talk.”
As Eddie finished his plea, the sound of thundering feet echoed down the corridor.
Cate flung her hand to her face, “Shit. I hate it when a kid’s smarter than me.” Not wanting to give herself the opportunity to change her mind, Cate scrambled into the dumbwaiter with her small backpack.
“Now you, Eddie,” instructed Alex.
Eddie squeezed past, into the hanging box, as Alex gripped the rope.
“I’m getting in. Eddie, you and Cate hold the rope. It’ll be the only thing keeping the dumbwaiter up after I release the brake and shut the door. Let go and we all drop straight down eight floors.”
Cate grabbed the rope so hard her knuckles turned white.
Alex wedged his way into the open box, forcing himself to fit between Cate and Eddie. He reached back and closed the wall covering and then the door. “I’m releasing the brake lock now. Hold on so we don’t fall.” He hit the lever removing the metal rod acting as the braking mechanism.
CRASH!
The noise scared the dumbwaiter’s passengers, but it was not made by them, it was the door of their suite being broken down and smashing onto the polished marble floor.
Knowing time was running out, they carefully lowered themselves through the darkness. Above them, they heard a voice they recognized calling out urgent orders as Colin Brown instructed his assault team to search the room.
Alex whispered, “That’s him.” He hesitated as a thought hit him, “I left my papers there, along with Eddie’s records and birth certificate. And my notes.”
Birthright: Pray your past stays hidden (Alex Turner Book 1) Page 9
