Garrett & Petrus- The Complete Series

by C Marten-Zerf

  There was no way that they could easily see him as his lights were off and he was parked behind a series of chain link fences.

  The entourage trooped inside, closing the front door behind them.

  ‘Should we scout the place,’ asked Petrus.

  ‘No,’ said Garrett. ‘Let’s sit tight and wait a bit. Those other cars bother me. Bound to be more fire power inside the building, plus Haddock’s heavies. Not that keen to risk another firefight without good reason.’

  Petrus nodded his agreement. ‘Right then’ he said. ‘Let’s wait.’

  Chapter 30

  Debra strode into the building, flanked by sergeant Robhurst and trailed by her two other bodyguards and her driver.

  She walked towards the workshop and Robhurst stepped forward and opened the door for her.

  The colonel and the commander sat on a pair of office chairs, over in a corner, chatting to themselves. Professor Parker stood next to a workbench. In front of him, a small circuit board in a bench vice, in his hand a soldering iron.

  Both the commander and the colonel looked up, surprised at Haddock’s aggressive entrance.

  Debra pointed at the professor. ‘Hit him,’ she commanded.

  Robhurst walked over and, without a change of expression spun the professor around and punched him in the stomach. The prof dropped the soldering iron and fell to the floor, struggling to breath.

  ‘Why is the devise not ready yet?’ Asked Debra.

  Bradley Parker shook his head. ‘I’m working as fast as I can, you rancorous old sow,’ he spluttered. ‘It’s close.’

  Debra turned to Robhurst. ‘Sergeant, take my car, go to the professor’s daughter and cut off both of her thumbs. Bring them straight back here.’

  After a slight flicker of hesitation, Robhurst nodded.

  Parker rose to his knees. ‘No,’ he shouted, his voice shrill with desperation. ‘Please, no. It’ll be ready tomorrow, I swear it. Please.’

  Debra stared at him for a while and then nodded. ‘Tomorrow, or that’s it. End of the lollipop, professor. After that, I swear, we will cut Lindsey’s limbs off.’

  Parker shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes. ‘No – tomorrow, I promise.’

  Debra beckoned to the commander and the colonel, gesturing towards the door with a tilt of her head.

  She walked from the room and they followed her. Omegas to her Alpha. Robhurst prowled behind them.

  ‘Tomorrow is D-Day,’ she instructed. ‘And not a moment too soon, I tell you.’

  ‘Why?’ Enquired commander Hastings.

  ‘I’m getting a distinctly iffy feeling about this whole thing,’ replied Debra. ‘I’ve tried to contact The Custodian Group but the mobile number that I had no longer exists. I asked around and that has never happened before, not on any operation that the government have ever sanctioned.’

  ‘Could just be a technical fault,’ suggested the commander.

  ‘Could be,’ admitted Debra. ‘But I prefer to expect the worst. If the targets have, by any chance, neutralized the Custodians then they will be after us next. I still have no idea who these people are or who they are working for. I suspect that something must have leaked, but to who? If it were our boys, MI5 or the CIA, then we would know. They’d be all over us like ugly on a moose.’

  ‘The Israelis?’ Suggested the commander

  Colonel Peterson shook his head. ‘Makes no sense. They would report to MI5 or simply take us out.’

  ‘Look, gentlemen,’ urged Haddock. ‘It doesn’t actually matter. The event horizon approaches and there is no turning back. No stopping us. So take all precautions, increase your personal security. We shall meet back here tomorrow at noon.’

  Haddock left the building followed closely by Robhurst, her other bodyguards, the colonel, the commander and their respective protectors.

  A conga line of well armed, middle class, moral turpitude.

  Chapter 31

  Garrett and Petrus watched the procession leave the warehouse.

  Lindsey sat in the Land Rover while the two men crouched behind it, peering around the tires to gain sight of Debra and her accomplices.

  Then Lindsey climbed carefully out of the Land Rover and took out her smart phone. She pointed it at the group and took a series of photographs, ensuring that the flash wasn’t on so that it didn’t give away their position.

  ‘What’s that for? Asked Petrus. ‘Holiday snaps?’

  ‘Don’t be so facetious,’ snapped Lindsey. ‘I can put their photos through Google images and maybe get a match of some sort. Find out who the other guys are.’

  ‘Really, does that work?’

  Lindsey shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t know. Just thought that it was worth a shot.’

  Petrus turned to Garrett. ‘So, which ones are we going to follow?’

  Garrett shook his head. ‘Neither. I want to see what’s in the warehouse. We can pick up Haddock afterwards.’

  They waited for the various members of Haddock’s group to drive off, Debra with her following car of bodyguards, and the two other men, each with two bodyguards and a driver. A formidable force.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Garrett. ‘Lindsey, wait in the car. We won’t be long.’

  ‘I hate waiting, that’s all that I do is sit in cars hoping that you guys come back. I get scared.’

  ‘Don’t be scared, Princess,’ said Petrus. ‘We’ll be as quick as we can. A fast search and back. See what we can pick up; maybe get to the bottom of this pile of shit. If you see anyone coming you honk the horn and we’ll come running.’

  ‘Okay,’ mumbled Lindsey.

  The two men faded into the night, heading towards the side of the warehouse, an area that was shrouded in shadow.

  They crouched down below one of the cracked and filthy windows and then Garrett popped his head up and stole a quick glance inside.

  ‘What do you see?’ Asked Petrus.

  ‘Empty room. Open door. Lights in the corridor beyond. Saw some guy walking past. Shoulder holster, pistol. Nothing heavy’

  ‘There could be another hundred in there,’ said Petrus. ‘They might have a bloody bus that drops them off every morning for all that we know.’

  ‘Could be,’ admitted Garrett. ‘Could be that he’s the only one. There is only one car outside.’

  ‘True,’ said Petrus. ‘But there could be more cars around the back. In fact, if they’re here on a semi-permanent basis then that’s probably where the other cars would be. Only one way to find out for sure. Reckon that this is a good ingress point?’

  ‘As good as any.’

  ‘Let’s do it.’

  They drew their blades and Garrett checked for any alarm wires before he used his machete to lever up the sash window, slipping the catch and moving the window up in small silent increments.

  Both men slipped into the room and walked over to the door, peering out into the lit corridor. It was empty and Garrett held his breath as he listened out for any sign of life. Voices, walking, anything.

  Then he pointed. ‘Down there,’ he whispered. ‘Voices. Behind that door at the end of the corridor.’

  ‘Blades or bullets?’ Asked Petrus.

  ‘Let’s go in cold and quiet,’ answered Garrett. ‘If things start to deteriorate then we’ll go weapons hot, but we’ll try to keep it silent for now.’

  ‘If we go in with blades then it’s all or nothing,’ said Petrus.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We’ll have to kill them. Guys tend not to take you seriously when you point a spear at them and tell them to put their hands up.’

  ‘True,’ admitted Garrett. ‘But the probability is that these guys are SAS or at least the pick of the bunch, so whatever we point at them they aren’t going to go quietly.’

  Petrus nodded. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Garrett led the way down the corridor. They paused outside the door and listened for a few seconds. They could hear talking but it was impossible to tell how many men t
here were in the room.

  Hoping for the best, Garrett placed his hand on the door handle, turned fast and smooth, pushed the door open and strode into the room, moving towards the right hand side.

  Petrus was close behind him, going left.

  There were four men and they reacted faster than Garrett would have believed possible.

  Pistols were drawn and pointed within less than a second. But in that tiny slice of time that it took to draw and aim, Garrett had swung and connected. The machete slicing through the closest man’s throat, opening his jugular and spraying the room with blood.

  Petrus had moved even faster, slicing and stabbing in one continuous flow of movement. Both of the men on his side of the room fell to the floor. One had been eviscerated and the other stabbed through the heart. With a balletic spin he returned to the first man who lay thrashing on the floor in an attempt to push his entrails back into his stomach cavity. With a savage thrust he plunged his assegai into the juncture of the man’s neck, smashing the clavicle bone and severing the carotid artery in a coup de gras.

  There was a loud bang and Garrett staggered back, clutching his side. Petrus leapt onto the table and swung his assegai down like an axe, chopping into the last soldier’s upper arm, almost severing it completely. Then, with an upward stroke, he rammed the wide blade into the man’s throat, twisting it as he did so, killing him instantly.

  Springing down from the table he ran to Garrett.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  Garrett nodded. ‘Just a graze,’ he said, clutching his left hand side. Blood welled past his fingers and dripped to the floor. ‘I hesitated, don’t know why. Son of a bitch got me.’

  ‘You’re thinking too much,’ said Petrus. ‘Look, these men are our enemies; they would kill us without thought. You keep thinking and you’ll get us both killed.’

  Garrett nodded. ‘Good point. Sorry.’

  ‘Right,’ urged Petrus. ‘We had better move. Whoever else is in the building knows that we’re here.’

  Both of the men holstered their blades and unslung their silenced Sten guns.

  ‘We can look at that wound when the job’s done,’ said Petrus. ‘Until then, try to stop losing so much blood, you might slip on it and hurt yourself.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ responded Garrett. ‘Very funny.’

  The Zulu led the way into the corridor and they headed towards the front of the warehouse, keeping close to the walls, holding their sub machine guns ready, walking with deliberate steps.

  On the right a door burst open and a man stepped out, firing as he did, Military issue Walther.

  Both Petrus and Garrett opened up at the same time. Two quick bursts. The man was flung back into the room like he had a giant rubber band attached to him, dead before he hit the ground.

  Just before the front entrance, the corridor doglegged to the right and the two men kept walking, slow and steady.

  The door at the end of the corridor banged open and another man rolled through, rising up onto one knee before firing. But he was too slow and the Sten guns cut him down in a fusillade of fire.

  Both Garrett and Petrus reloaded, dropping their spent magazines and slotting full ones back in.

  Garrett looked at his friend. ‘On three?’

  ‘On three,’ he agreed.

  Garrett counted down and on three they leapt into the room, hitting the floor and rolling both left and right, scanning the room as they did so.

  Garrett’s Sten growled and a man fell.

  There was one more man in the room. He wore a stained white lab coat, his hair was disheveled.

  He had both of his hands held high, like a child playing prisoner in a game of cowboys and Indians.

  Garrett covered him whilst Petrus went to the door and checked for any more guards.

  ‘Who are you?’ Asked Garrett.

  ‘Parker,’ answered the man. ‘Bradley Parker. Please don’t shoot me.’

  Garrett smiled. ‘Lindsey’s dad?’

  The professor looked baffled. ‘You know my daughter?’

  ‘Sure do,’ said Petrus. ‘She’s the reason that we’re here.’

  ‘I don’t understand. How? Why?’

  Petrus chuckled. ‘Put your hands down, prof. Your daughter is safe. In fact she’s outside, waiting for us.’

  The professor still looked baffled. ‘She can’t be.’

  ‘She is,’ corrected Petrus. ‘Come on, looks like it’s a good time to split this place. I reckon that we’ve taken care of all of the opposition.’

  Bradley followed the two friends out of the building and into the car park. Then across the area of crumbling blacktop and onto the adjacent road.

  They were still ten yards from the Land Rover when the door opened and Lindsey came running towards them.

  ‘Daddy,’ she squealed. ‘Is that you?’

  Bradley shambled into an exhausted run to cover the last few feet, picking up his daughter and holding her tight.

  Lindsey was laughing and crying at the same time. Bradley simply held her, also laughing although tears streamed down his face as he did so.

  Eventually he put her down and grabbed her right hand, then her left.

  ‘But, your fingers,’ he said. ‘They’re all there.’

  Lindsey did a double take at the complete non sequitur.

  ‘Umm, yes, daddy,’ she said. ‘Why wouldn’t they be?’

  Bradley stared at his daughter’s hands for a while longer then he slowly sat down, his legs simply giving way in the face of his massive confusion. Legs splayed out in front of him like a child in a sandpit.

  ‘I’m perplexed,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Whose finger? When did...’ He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘Who are these men?’

  ‘They’re good friends, daddy. But that can all be explained later. I think that we should get out of here.’

  ‘I agree,’ confirmed Garrett. ‘We have no idea when more uglies might pitch up.’

  Bradley shook his head. ‘No, wait. We can’t go.’

  ‘Why?’ Asked Garrett.

  ‘The workshop. There’s stuff that I need.’

  ‘Look, prof,’ said Garrett. ‘Whatever you need we can buy. It’s more important to get out of here.’

  Bradley shook his head again. ‘You don’t understand.’ He pointed at the warehouse. ‘In there...it’s a nuclear bomb and it’s almost complete.’

  Garrett went pale. ‘A nuclear bomb?’

  ‘Yes. Small, portable, deadly. And almost good to go. We’ve got to go back and make sure that it can’t be used.’

  Garrett nodded. ‘Let’s go. Petrus, stay with Princess,’ he said as he led the way back into the building.

  Bradley went straight to the workshop and walked up to a large metal frame from which a spherical steel ball hung. When Garrett got closer he could see that the ball was actually a series of octagonal plates joined together. Out of each plate ran two wires that led to a junction box and a bird’s nest of multicolored wires.

  Professor Parker began pulling wires out, seemingly at random.

  ‘Hey, careful,’ warned Garrett. ‘I hope that you know what you’re doing.’

  The prof paused momentarily to send a scathing look his way.

  ‘Sorry,’ apologized Garrett sheepishly.

  After a few minutes Bradley rushed over to another work bench and picked up a small container. He went back to the bomb and started to disassemble parts of it, then, after donning a pair of heavy gloves, he extricated a small ball slightly larger than a tennis ball and he placed it into the container. After that he picked up another small metal phial and popped that in as well.

  Then he laid the various parts that he had disconnected out along the workbench top and he started to connect new wires to them.

  ‘Uh, prof,’ said Garrett. ‘I don’t want to upset you but I feel that we are a little pushed for time here.’

  ‘Another minute,’ snapped the professor. ‘We simply cannot leave anything here for these p
eople to use.’

  He connected the last two wires and then ran them to a box that had a flashing red light and a small antenna on it. Finally he picked up the container and a small black object that looked to Garrett like a garage door remote, placing both into the pockets of his lab coat.

  ‘Right, all done,’ murmured the professor as he picked up the container. ‘Let’s go.’

  Garrett led the way out of the building, checking for any resistance as he went. They made it safely back to the car without incident.

  ‘Great,’ said Petrus. ‘Can we go now?’

  ‘Yes we can,’ confirmed Bradley. ‘Just one more thing.’ He turned to face the building, raised the small black remote and pushed a button.

  A series of thumping explosions rippled through the building and then the entire structure simply folded in on itself.

  ‘What the fuck,’ shouted Garrett. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Had to destroy any chance of them reconstructing what I had done,’ said the professor.

  ‘Yeah, well you could have warned us,’ said Garrett.

  They all clambered into the Land Rover and Garrett pulled off.

  In the back seat Lindsey leaned against her father for a while then she sat up straight and opened the window.

  ‘Daddy,’ she said. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you really need a bath.’

  Bradley laughed. ‘Trust me, my darling,’ he said. ‘I know that better than anyone else, after all, my body odor is directly under my own nose.’

  ‘You can have a shower when we get to a hotel,’ said Garrett. ‘It won’t be long now.’

  ‘Well, I appreciate that,’ said Bradley. ‘But I rather think that we should and see someone. Some government body that we can report this all to.’

  ‘Sorry, buddy,’ said Garrett. ‘No can do.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s not only the cops in on this whole thing. As you know, it’s the army and some politicians, the media and who knows what other organisation. At the moment I wouldn’t stake my life, and yours, on anyone. Not MI5, MI6…no one. Seriously, prof, I cannot tell you how many men have being trying to kick our butts over the last few days. Look, I’ll find a hotel that suits us, you shower, I’ll order some food and then we can all sit down and discuss what’s going on. Both sides of the story, yours and ours. Happy?’