Satanic Armageddon

by Guy N Smith

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Zinovsky will inform me when he is ready to do so and not until. Doubtless it's somewhere in this part of the Midlands. All he told me was that we will need a suicide bomber and this guy fits the bill after Ali has done his duty.’

  ‘I would like to have a rest by the pool too,’ Gemma announced nervously. ‘I haven't had much in the way of fresh air since I came to Lichfield.’

  ‘That's fine by me,’ Mayo agreed.

  Richardson's expression was doubtful. ‘Well, so long as you're not missing all day. I wanted to have a long chat to you about the future. You have an important role to play in our plans after the bombing, Gemma.’

  ‘We'll be back in an hour or two,’ Mayo was swift to reply.

  ‘Oh, well, all right. Then, John, we have to plan our placing of the bomb outside the cathedral and ensure that young Amani knows exactly what he has to do on the day. It is vital that both bombs explode simultaneously. We don't want the crowd running for cover at the first explosion.’

  ‘I'm confused,’ Gemma announced as she and Mayo found a spare bench overlooking the pool. The walkway alongside the railings was crowded. Holidaymakers were already converging on the city in advance of the forthcoming events.

  ‘Doubtless you are,’ Mayo lit a little cigarette. Already he was convinced of the other's integrity. She had found herself caught up in a terrifying situation from which there seemed no hope of escape. Until now. Her radicalisation had failed.

  ‘But…’ she was clearly very confused, ‘you're... you're playing a role in this planned bombing. I don't understand.’

  Mayo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. By now he was convinced that she had no wish to join a jihadist movement. All she wanted was to escape from this increasing bunch of murderers.

  ‘I'd better explain,’ his hand found hers, squeezed it. ‘I'm going to trust you, and in return for your loyalty I'll help you to escape and rejoin your family. If I fail then we will both end up on the crucifix.’

  ‘Alright,’ she shuddered. ‘I promise I won't betray you.’

  He related the role he was playing, how he had rendered both bombs harmless. Once that was discovered his own life would be in danger. So he had to escape and he would take Gemma with him. Somehow also he had to kill Zinovsky, hit this movement where it hurt most.

  ‘Now I understand,’ she was clearly relieved. ‘So where do we go from here? I'm dreading another session with Richardson.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I can't do anything about that right now. But at least his radicalisation isn't working with you. Don't worry, after those bombs have failed to explode you and I will have got the hell out of here. I'll contact the Anti-Terrorism Branch and before these murderers know what's happening, they will be raided by an armed unit. Whether or not Zinovsky will still be there remains to be seen. If not, then I'll have to hunt him down before he leaves the UK. Right now, though, we better be getting back.’

  Gemma's hand found Mayo’s again, squeezed it. ‘You've no idea how much better I feel now that you've put me in the picture.’

  ‘Just hang on and everything will work out. Tomorrow night Richardson and myself go to place the cathedral bomb. After that it's in the lap of the Gods.’

  Chapter Nine

  It was after midnight when John Mayo and Richardson left the house. The latter carried the heavy bomb in a folded sack beneath his lightweight raincoat.

  ‘The moonlight will be a big help,’ Mayo remarked. ‘At least we won't have to use a torch which might attract attention. Beware of patrolling cop cars, the last thing we want is to be stopped and searched.’

  Richardson grunted. He was clearly nervous.

  Twice they dodged into doorways when they saw headlights approaching from an adjacent street. A slow-moving police patrol car passed slowly by and then was lost to view.

  Down along the railed path by the Minster Pool a couple were making love on the grass, grunting as they writhed. They were so engrossed that they did not even notice the two men pass by. A raft of mallard quacked loudly and in the trees on the opposite side an owl hooted. An omen.

  Then they were in the Close, sneaking past the railed section of the roadway. Up ahead of them was St. Chad's Preparatory School; no lights showed, the boarding pupils had long retired to their dormitories.

  Every few yards Mayo and Richardson stopped to listen. The night was silent, there was not a soul to be seen. Lights showed behind the curtains of a couple of residential homes.

  ‘Couldn't be better,’ Mayo whispered. ‘Now, here's that pile of broken slabs. We'll need to lift a few off carefully so as to make no noise. You do that whilst I keep watch.’

  Richardson removed a number of the slabs, made a space amidst those remaining. Then he carefully placed the bomb within it. He checked the tiny screen, moved the catch to set it. Then he replaced the residue above it, ensured that they resembled an untidy heap. Nobody would ever guess what it screened.

  ‘Phew!’ He straightened up. ‘That's it. The bomb is hidden and all set. We'd better get back and hope for the best.’

  They moved away, dodging the moonlit areas. A couple of those previously lighted bedroom windows in the houses opposite were now in darkness. The residents had clearly retired for the night.

  ‘What's our next move?’ Mayo asked as they made their way back alongside the Minster Pool.

  ‘I now have to work on Ali Amani, make sure he knows exactly what he has to do. He's keen enough to blow himself up but we have to work out a plan for him. It is essential that his bomb and the one by the Cathedral detonate at exactly the same time, or within seconds of each other. We can't afford any slip ups especially with Zinovsky up here. Christ, that guy terrifies me just looking at him!’

  Mayo did not reply.

  Back at the house he went upstairs to his room. He listened, heard Richardson cross the landing, the latter’s door clicking shut behind him. There was no sound from Gemma's bedroom. He would wait awhile. It was time for both of them to get the hell out of here.

  It was in the early hours of the morning before John Mayo stirred, dressed fully, pulled the fedora down on his head. Then he tiptoed out onto the landing, eased Gemma's door open. By the moonlight streaming through a gap in the curtains he saw her lying on the bed.

  She started, sat up in alarm. He held a finger up to his lips.

  ‘What... what is it?’ A whisper of undisguised alarm came from her. She clutched a sheet around her naked body.

  ‘We're leaving,’ he spoke in low tones. ‘You'd better get dressed. I want us to be well away from here before Zinovsky arrives tomorrow.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ She fumbled with clothing, her hands shaking.

  ‘Back to your parent's home in Wales for a start but we'll have to move on somewhere else from there because Zinovsky will try to track us after he discovers his bombs are dud's. First, though, we've got a long walk down to where I've got my car hidden.’

  ‘It will be a relief to get away from here, John.’

  She followed him out onto the landing and down the stairs. He unlocked the door and they stepped out into the warm, moonlit night. Only then did they quicken their pace down the deserted street. There was no sign of late night vehicles for which he was relieved.

  It was over an hour before they reached the home of Mayo's friends. He saw his car parked in their driveway where he had left it. He was reluctant to disturb them but he could not chance them contacting the police next morning when they discovered it was no longer there.

  Just a brief word with their bleary-eyed friend. No explanations, just that he was taking the car and would be in touch at a later date.

  Minutes later John Mayo was driving away, Gemma Jones beside him in the passenger seat. After a short time, she drifted off to sleep. She had finally relaxed, perhaps for the first time since she had left her family home.

  Dawn had started to creep over the eastern sky by the time they reached Rhayder. On the extremity of t
his township Mayo turned off onto the mountain road which led to Aberystwyth.

  ‘Approaching home territory,’ Gemma had both relief and excitement in her voice.

  They did not see any other vehicles as they travelled the narrow winding mountain road. ‘My folks live at Cwmystwyth,’ she announced. ‘That's a tiny village a few miles outside Devil's Bridge. It's in a hollow amidst what's left of the slate mining from a century or more ago. Remote except for a never-ending stream of coastal traffic in the summer months.’

  ‘I'll pull in and we'll wait a while before knocking your folks up. Seeing you back home will be a shock enough for them. But you and your parents will need to make plans to move elsewhere for a while. Richardson knows where your family home is and that's the first place they’ll come looking for you. And me.’

  ‘Why should they bother, John?’

  ‘Because you know too much, the whereabouts of the Lichfield group for a start. As for myself, I'm going to hang around. Doubtless Zinovsky will blame me for the dud bombs. Then there's Ali Amani, he'll run yelling into the city centre and when his bomb fails to detonate, he'll be caught and interrogated. Things aren't looking good for that lot and Zinovsky will certainly want revenge. What he'll do to Richardson is anybody's guess,’ he gave a humourless laugh. ‘I'll tip off my contact and the Anti-Terrorism branch can carry out a raid. First, though, I shall be tuning into the radio for a report on this Lichfield business. Zinovsky won't just disappear from there before he comes looking for you. So I have to ensure that you and your folks are in a safe hideaway. Me, I'll stick around the Cwmystwyth area. I might just get a crack at that bastard. He's reputed to have occult connections so there's no knowing what his next move will be.’

  Mayo parked up opposite the small white-washed house which had been Gemma's home since childhood. It stood back from the road, surrounded by a lawn and neatly maintained borders. Close at the rear was woodland which stretched up the steep hillside beyond.

  He knocked on the door, heard footsteps approaching and a key turning in the lock. An overweight woman, possibly in her late fifties with flecks of grey in her short auburn hair, glanced from Mayo to Gemma, stared in disbelief. A shriek of surprise and then she was embracing her daughter, crying.

  ‘Oh, my darling, I don't believe it. You've come home!’

  More footsteps and then a tall grey-haired man with a clipped moustache, braces over his short sleeve shirt appeared.

  ‘I… I… Gemma!’ He grasped the door post for support. His gaze settled on Mayo, curious and questioning.

  ‘May we all come inside?’ Mayo smiled. ‘I think we need to have a chat.’

  ‘I'll put the kettle on.’ She led the way through the hall and into the neat and tidy kitchen.

  ‘I'm John Mayo and I finally found your missing daughter.’

  ‘I can hardly believe it,’ Rodney Jones himself was close to tears. ‘This is my wife, Martha. We've been calling the police every day in the hope that they might have some news of Gemma. We knew she had left to join those revolutionists and we had virtually given up hope of ever seeing her again. I can't thank you enough.’

  ‘It isn't quite as simple as that,’ Mayo leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. ‘This is just the first move. They will come looking for her. And for me. First, though, something is going to happen, or to be more correct, not happen tomorrow in Lichfield. These guys will be enraged. They will want their revenge on myself as well as Gemma. Is there somewhere you could move in the meantime?’

  ‘We have a close friend, a widow, who lives at Abbeycwmhir on the outskirts of Rhayder not far from the Elan Valley. She bought a piece of land there some time ago, erected a mobile home on it to live in whilst a bungalow was being built for her. She has just moved into her permanent home but the mobile home is still waiting to be taken down. Cath is a lovely lady, and I've no doubt she would be only too happy for Rod, Gemma and myself to move in there. What are your plans then, Mister Mayo?’

  ‘I shall remain here. I'm hoping that Zinovsky, who runs this vile set up both in the UK and Europe, will accompany his confederates and provide me with the opportunity to destroy them once and for all!’

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Martha Jones clasped her hand to her mouth, Gemma clutched her mother. Rodney pursed his lips.

  ‘We can certainly arrange it, I'm sure,’ the latter stated. ‘If you think it is really necessary, Mister Mayo.’

  ‘Call me John. Yes, I'm certain that it is. Tomorrow is Bank Holiday Monday. I would like you to have left here by early afternoon because that is when the events will happen over in Lichfield which will enrage Zinovsky.’

  ‘I'll give Cath a ring right now,’ Martha rose from the table, went through to the hallway.

  ‘I can never thank you enough for finding Gemma and bringing her home, John,’ Rodney's voice trembled.

  ‘Once she saw what society was up against, she was shocked. It's far from over but with luck I can hit 'em hard. There's a camp at Roj crammed with thousands of refugees, some citizens who have survived the conceited attack by the Allies but also a huge number of jihadists waiting to reorganize and hit back. I just wish I could get Hamza bin Laden in my sights but I guess that's too much to hope for. Anyway, as I said I'll stick around here and I'll tune into the radio tomorrow afternoon and see if there are any reports from Lichfield. Zinovsky's in for one helluva shock and my guess is he'll put two and two together and realise that I scarpered with your daughter, and the first place he'll look is here!’

  Chapter Ten

  Zinovsky arrived at the Lichfield base late on the night of the eve of Bank Holiday Monday. He was accompanied by his nameless lieutenant, dressed in black clothing, a cloth balaclava masking most of his cruel features. An expert at crucifixion and other types of torture, he stood behind his master as the latter addressed the gathering in the large room.

  Richardson was clearly nervous, his tongue licking his lips and fidgeting with his hands by his side. Ali Amani stood at the front of the group, an expression of maniacal pride on his dark features, relishing the major role which he would be playing the following day. Heroic death was but a change, he would live again in another world.

  ‘Are the bombs primed and ready?’ Zinovsky addressed Richardson.

  ‘Yes, everything is set as instructed.’

  ‘Excellent. We are all aware of the fate of Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris. Arson? An electrical fault? Whatever, the Master has played a part in that, his powers are beyond human comprehension. Now the cathedral in this city will suffer a similar fate. Hundreds will die both there and in the crowded streets.’ He fixed his gaze on Amani. ‘Behold we have a devoted follower and hero in our midst.’

  Amani smiled, his eyes glazed over. He was relishing his role. He would live again amidst those who had sacrificed themselves in the cause.

  Zinovsky's expression changed, his deep sunken eyes scanned the gathering. Searching for a familiar face, not finding it.

  ‘Where is Mayo?’ A harsh, demanding question, his gaze centred on Richardson. ‘And the Welsh girl?’

  ‘He's somewhere out on the streets, hoping to find others to join us. I presume the girl is with him.’

  ‘I see,’ Zinovsky's suspicion was only too obvious, ‘but why has the girl gone with him?’

  ‘I… I…’ the other had no logical explanation. Maybe Mayo and Gemma were starting an affair and that could be disastrous to future plans. ‘Just companionship, a breath of fresh air for Gemma maybe.’

  ‘She'll be headed to Roj soon. They need all the help with the sick and wounded they can get. I want some answers from both of them when they get back. Now, to plan for the morrow…’

  Richardson licked his dry lips. Pray that nothing goes wrong. Zinovsky did not tolerate failure.

  ‘We shall remain here, we shall hear the explosion in the city. The cathedral bomb is timed for 1 p.m. and the moment you hear it, Amani, you detonate yours. The crowds will have no warning. Dead and wounded will li
tter the streets!’

  Ali Amani nodded, muttered ‘I am delighted to die for our cause.’

  ‘Excellent. Now I suggest that everybody get some rest. My companion and I will rest awhile here awaiting the return of Mayo and the girl. They have some questions to answer.’

  The gathering broke up, shuffled away to their respective nocturnal rooms. There was no mistaking their unease. All of them were nervous both of Zinovsky's presence and whatever the morrow held.

  John Mayo watched the departure of Gemma and her parents. Dawn was already lighting up the eastern sky and the day promised to be another scorcher.

  He smiled to himself. Zinovsky and his followers would be in for a big shock by early afternoon. Once they discovered that their bombs were duds they would be after him with fury and vengeance in their black hearts. He would be ready for them. Instinctively his fingers crossed over the handgun in his pocket.

  Lichfield was packed to capacity with visitors from far and near. Crowds thronged the cathedral, a long queue forming at the west entrance. Security was tight with memories of the Notre Dame disaster still fresh in everybody's mind. A freak accident but following on had been the terrible bombings of worshippers in Sri Lanka and Nejombo and Colombo.

  Back at the Guildhall the mayor was crowning the Carnival Queen. The market in Market Street was busy and there was a queue at the doorway of the adjacent Dr Johnson's house.

  On the outskirts the terrorists grouped outside their hideout, waiting, listening for the cathedral clock to strike the hour. Zinovsky's expression was stoic, he rarely revealed his thoughts except on those occasions when an uncontrollable rage possessed him. He glanced at his watch, in just a few more minutes all hell would be let loose. His Dark Master would see to that just as he had done on previous occasions.