The Phoenix Series Box Set 2

by Ted Tayler

  “I’d wait until they’d turned up and gone inside the building to sort out the fire, then send a rocket in and blow the place to kingdom come,” said Bazza.

  “Thanks for your input; helpful as always, Bazza,” said Rusty.

  “Don’t dismiss the idea of an anti-tank weapon entirely,” said Phoenix. “We can’t be sure these guys haven’t got an armoured vehicle, a reinforced one at least.”

  “What strength team are you taking on this one, Phoenix?” asked Thommo.

  “There are at least eight of these thugs; if Giles and the guys upstairs can get more intel on who we’re dealing with, I’d be happier. I expect Rusty and myself are capable of taking that number out between us if they were run-of-the-mill criminals but this gang is different gravy. I want to match them man for man; so, we shall be a team of eight. I’ve contacted Jack Mould. The deadly duo from Shrivenham will be good to have stood beside us too. The others are from across the London region and split into two units. Three agents will form part of the hit squad, a further nine held in reserve. If we run into serious trouble, then they’ll be called in to evacuate casualties and help finish the mission. With the level of planning we’ve done on this job; we should cope with the initial squad. After the firefight is over, the backup personnel will move in to sweep the area clean. When we hand the outbuildings back to the landowner it must appear as if Olympus was never there.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve got things well covered,” said Thommo. “We’ll take what you’ve just told us on board and add a few surprises to the package we’ll get ready for you.”

  “We always wish you a safe trip, guys,” said Bazza, more serious now for a change, “and usually after you leave here we say we wish we were going with you. I don’t envy you this mission; from what we’ve seen of the attacks so far, they’re maniacs.”

  Rusty and Phoenix told the armourers to ring through as soon as the materials they were going to prepare were ready. Then they went back to the surface. A van from the Olympus transport section was just pulling away, heading for the driveway out of the estate.

  “I bet that’s those two blokes Henry had in Level Three overnight; they’re returning home in one piece with time to nick some more motors this evening. It’s a funny old game isn’t it?” said Rusty.

  Phoenix was keen to get back to Athena. He needed to know what he’d missed at the end of the meeting if anything; plus he wanted to carry on talking about yesterday’s meeting. Phoenix left Rusty to follow up on getting the full squad members finalised.

  As his friend stayed on in his refurbished and extended quarters to make the necessary calls, he walked across the lawn to find Athena. Phoenix realised that he hardly recognised his old stamping-ground, which made it easier to manage.

  Phoenix decided he needed a den within the apartments in the manor house; perhaps he could broach the subject with Athena later on, over dinner. It wasn’t that he needed a place just for him to do his thinking and planning; he didn’t have anywhere where he could listen to the music he loved.

  No matter how much Athena said she had enjoyed the Glastonbury experience, Phoenix couldn’t convert her into a lover of Judas Priest or Iron Maiden. When he had been living in the stable block, he could lose himself in the music and block out the world.

  As the hours ticked away until he headed off to Eton Wick and a potential bloodbath he wanted time alone with his thoughts. Phoenix needed to shut out the images of the things he would be leaving behind if he didn’t return.

  Meanwhile, in the manor house, Athena sat alone with her thoughts. Phoenix was heading off on a dangerous mission within a day or two. He didn’t know about the possible baby yet. Should she tell him before he left? As a leader, she knew that she must do everything to make sure the enterprise was a success.

  Pulling him out of the mission wasn’t possible; even if there was a risk she might lose him. She consoled herself with the thought that Rusty and Phoenix were together; he was so dependable; he would protect Phoenix and bring him home safe. Then she remembered Artemis. She was arriving later tomorrow. Rusty could be one hundred miles away in a firefight. What if it was him who failed to return?

  As she heard Phoenix entering their apartments, she sighed. Erebus hadn’t really told her how difficult this leadership lark was, had he?

  “Hello, darling,” said Phoenix, “everything alright?”

  For the first time in a long while, Athena felt the tears start to flow. Hell, her hormones were all over the place.

  Phoenix sat beside her and held her close.

  “In your own time,” said Phoenix. “If it’s Eton Wick, don’t worry we’ve planned every step and Rusty will be there. We’ll be back in time for tea.”

  “It’s everything,” Athena blubbed. “The meeting, Eton Wick, not having Erebus here to tell us what to do, those curtains, it’s everything.”

  “The bloody curtains? What’s wrong with them?”

  “I liked them when we decorated this room but sitting here now looking at them through your arms, I realise I hate them.”

  “Okay, we’ll change them when we’ve finished up in Windsor. I’ll have to come back now. You’ll never manage to agree on the colour of the new curtains without me being there.”

  The two lovers sat there until Athena’s tears had disappeared and the room was growing dark. Neither spoke. One was thinking of the potential horrors of Eton Wick and how much he would miss moments such as this. The other person was thinking of the research she and her team were undertaking. She was deciding when she should take the test to confirm what she believed in her heart and realising just how much she loved the man who was holding her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Sunday, July 21st, 2013

  Phoenix slipped out of bed early. It was fast approaching sunrise. He found Rusty waiting for him outside the ice-house when he trotted over the lawn. They had both dressed in dark clothing and were ready to roll.

  As they descended to Level Two Rusty told Phoenix he sent Zara an email telling her he might be late back from London. He wrote and told her to find Athena in the main building when she arrived at Larcombe. Athena could get someone to show her to their quarters and give her a brief tour.

  “You didn’t tell her you already got back from your working week in London? That might have been sensible,” said Phoenix.

  “No, I just said I’d make it up to her when I got back,” said Rusty.

  They found Bazza Longdon and Thommo Thompson in the armoury as arranged. Phoenix received the ‘all set’ message late last night, just after he and Athena ate a late supper and thought about going to bed.

  “Transport should be up top when you arrive on the surface; I called as soon as the lift started down.”

  “Thanks, Bazza,” said Phoenix.

  “You’ve got everything you need to make a load of convincing smoke. The weapons and ammunition you usually prefer are there too. We added the anti-tank weaponry just in case. Rusty knows how to use it; Jack Mould will too, no doubt. We’ll give you a hand with it, there’s quite a list you ordered for this job.”

  “Cheers, Thommo, you’re a star,” said Rusty.

  The four men struggled to the lift with the equipment. Rusty and Bazza went up first. The Olympus truck stood outside ticking over as promised. Phoenix and Thommo came up with the rest of the kit and made sure they got everything loaded securely.

  The armourers turned to return to their home from home on the lower level.

  “Aren’t you going to stop to wave us goodbye?” asked Phoenix.

  “You’re coming back aren’t you? Just find out the bastard responsible for Kassie Paget and give him a round or two from me will you?” said Thommo.

  “You bet, mate,” replied Rusty.

  With that, they got into the truck and headed off towards the driveway and onwards to Eton Wick.

  As the truck drove nearer to the cattle-grid between the stone pillars at the gateway, a curtain drew back in a room on the top floor. At
hena watches as Phoenix and Rusty left. She offered up a prayer for their safe return. Phoenix didn’t turn back towards the manor house. He glanced at his watch. The rendezvous point was due to be reached just after 07.00 hours. He closed his eyes as if he was asleep. He went through each step of the mission, just to keep it firmly set in his mind.

  Rusty sat beside him. Rusty thought about Zara arriving later today. The seasoned soldier always planned to return from every mission he ever got landed with; this time, it was different; he had someone waiting at home for him.

  Across London, the dozen Olympus agents selected for the task ahead were awake. The longest journey either of them faced was an hour, and on a quiet Sunday morning, it would be closer to fifty minutes. They might have time for a few minutes in bed.

  Kelly Dexter and Hayden Vincent waited in Shrivenham, dressed and ready to get cracking. Their mission timetable showed them joining the M4 and following the Olympus vehicle towards the capital. Kelly glanced out of the window. A black Ford Kuga pulled into the driveway and parked next to their van. Jack ‘Jelly’ Mould had arrived from Frome. She walked to the front door and invited him indoors.

  “I’ll transfer my kit to your van when we’re ready to leave,” said Jack.

  “We’ve got to hang on until Phoenix calls to say they’ve passed the first Swindon junction and then we head off to tuck in somewhere behind them. We’ve got a while yet. Fancy a coffee?” asked Hayden.

  “I’m dying for one, thanks,” said Jack.

  As Hayden made for the kitchen he thought to himself, hope not mate, I hope not. This might well turn out to be their toughest assignment so far. The skirmish last November in Bristol looked like being a piece of cake compared to this.

  In Maidenhead, Georgi Bonev had a plan. He had avoided bumping into Dimitar so far. A rough time with his boss lay ahead anyway, because of the drink-driving charge, he didn’t need the ‘aggro’ that his boss would give him.

  At least his licence and insurance details checked out when the cop pulled him over. Whether the police slipped up or were just too busy to bother, it appeared they didn’t check the vehicle he had been driving after they collected it.

  Perhaps this was an effect of the cuts. No matter, it was his lucky day. He recovered the car from the pound late yesterday and now he’d return it to the farm with Dimitar being none the wiser. Georgi never normally got up this early on a Sunday; he didn’t imagine that Dimitar surfaced much before noon on the weekend.

  At the farmhouse, Christopher Mellish, sixty-two years old, sat reading the Sunday paper. Truth be told, he didn’t take in very much of what he saw on the printed page in front of him. His mug of tea stood getting cold on the table; his fried breakfast lay untouched. He grew more nervous by the minute about what he had to do.

  The undercover police officers would be arriving in the next forty-five minutes. What if the gang suspected a trap? How did they expect him to sound convincing on the phone when he warned them the outbuilding they rented from him was in danger of going up in smoke?

  He was just a simple farmer whose family farmed here in Eton Wick for four generations. The harsh reality of the parlous state of farming in Britain hit home within a decade of taking him over from his father. Every direction he tried to take his business became littered with regulations, red tape and the bloody EU. His wife left him five years ago. The children worked and lived in London. His kids wanted nothing to do with farming. Over the past couple of years, they increasingly wanted little to do with him either.

  Renting the outbuildings to the first group of men who approached him seemed ‘easy money’ at the time. He suspected all the comings and goings meant something sinister, but not enough to stick his nose into their business. Their money was crucial to help him stay afloat. He didn’t have much choice but to go along with the latest crowd that took over the rent. The men sounded so threatening he kept as far away from them as possible They always paid on time, so why worry?

  Christopher knew the second that the police telephoned him who he had been harbouring. The vicious foreign gang that had been murdering innocent people all over the south of the country. He laid his unread newspaper on the table. In a few minutes, he must phone the leader of this group of killers and pretend that he didn’t know what they had been up to recently; he must sound concerned, and anxious to help. They needed to believe he was being neighbourly. He didn’t know if he was up to it.

  While Christopher Mellish paced the floor of his kitchen, Georgi Bonev pulled onto the forecourt of a garage just outside Maidenhead. He decided to put a few gallons into the tank, to pacify Dimitar if he ever discovered the car made an unscheduled trip. He would think of something. Maybe the boss wouldn’t notice. Georgi picked up a couple of snacks too; he hadn’t eaten any breakfast yet.

  Georgi looked at his watch; five to seven. He shuddered. Not from the cold. It was already getting warm. The thought of being up so early unnerved him. Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. In less than fifteen minutes he would be pulling into the gateway that led to the farm outbuildings.

  Five minutes later, he would have locked the car away in the garage. That old farmer might be in the yard or in the nearby fields tending to his animals or whatever. As he drove towards Eton Wick, he thought he might hang around in the outbuilding for a while. He’d eat his snacks, check nobody was snooping around and then walk up the road for ten minutes. Then ring for a taxi. Georgi was happy with his plan. He could be home by eight o’clock at the latest. His comfortable bed waiting for him.

  At 07.00 hours the vans containing the London agents pulled up in a lay-by a quarter of a mile east of the farm at Eton Wick. On the western side of the farm, two more Olympus vehicles parked in a lane a similar distance away. Phoenix and Rusty got out of the lead van and walked back to talk with Kelly, Hayden, and Jack.

  “Good morning for it,” said Rusty.

  “Any more intel from Giles?” asked Hayden.

  “Nothing useful yet,” said Phoenix. “Remember the car Bonev, the gang member, drove last night? Someone collected it from the car pound late yesterday afternoon. As for traffic movements to help us spot vehicles that might be moving the gang into Eton Wick this morning, not a thing.”

  “The London agents are in position,” said Rusty, viewing his smartphone.

  “Call Mellish and give him a bit of reassurance; then a gentle nudge to call when we instructed him,” Phoenix said to Rusty.

  Phoenix called the leader of the London agents. Des Finch’s squad needed to set up the materials to provide the supposed fire. Phoenix checked that the leader had the timetable clear in his head.

  “Clear as a bell, Phoenix, glad to be working with you,” said Des Finch.

  “We’ll be switching to the walkie-talkie now for communications; out,” said Phoenix.

  “Check,” came the replies from his crew and the London squad leader.

  The different teams collected their various pieces of equipment from the vehicles and moved into position. The battle of Eton Wick had begun. A battle that would never be recorded in the annals of history.

  The reserve unit on the east side lay in wait around 250 metres from the outbuildings in a clump of trees. Any early morning traffic moving along the lane would never have suspected their presence. The trees held nine men, medical equipment and an impressive array of weaponry.

  The advance unit, comprising Des Finch and two experienced Olympus agents moved across the lane and approached the rear of the outbuildings. That earlier aerial reconnaissance had shown there to be an ample supply of empty drums and flammable material on site to gather up for their purposes. Christopher Mellish could not be described as a tidy person. He had lost track of all the rubbish he left lying around the place. The three men quickly assembled the ingredients for their fake conflagration and prepared to light it.

  Des Finch contacted Phoenix on the walkie-talkie, “We’re set; waiting for your orders.”

  “We’ve got company, Phoenix,” s
aid Kelly Dexter.

  A Toyota Prius drove through the gateway of the farm and parked outside of one of the buildings. The driver got out and went towards the doors. Georgi Bonev had arrived.

  Phoenix contacted the team at the rear of the building telling them the thug was about to enter.

  “Finch. Maintain absolute silence; hold your position for now. We have a visitor,”

  “What the hell do we do now?” said Rusty.

  “Mellish should be on the phone now to the gang leader. Provided he convinces them there’s a big enough fire to make it worth jumping out of bed for, they’ll be roaring through those gates at half-past seven. How did Mellish sound when you called, anyway?”

  “Just about holding it together,” said Rusty. “I reminded him twice that he needed to call at ten past the hour. I’ll check now.”

  “We need to incapacitate Bonev swiftly,” said Phoenix, “we can’t afford for the boss to ring him. Instead of getting him out of bed to come here to help remove weapons, ammunition and heaven’s knows what else away from the area of the supposed fire, he’ll be telling him that there’s no bloody fire here.”

  Phoenix nodded towards Hayden Vincent; the agent moved quickly and silently forward from his position. Bonev stood at the doors, trying to find the right key among the half-dozen on the keyring. Hayden slipped a knife from his jacket pocket and closed on his target.

  Georgi Bonev finally found the key, put it into the lock and turned it. As he started to slide the big right-hand door open so he could park the Prius safely inside, he felt a whisper of hot breath on his neck.

  He hardly felt the knife as it crossed from the left-hand side of his throat to the right. Hayden lowered the lifeless body to the floor, then dragged Bonev inside the outbuilding. There was an awful lot of blood.