Torch beams swept lazily over the wet ground. One man spoke, the other responding in amused agreement. Only three metres away now. If either looked up, they would see him.
Dull footsteps grew louder. One metre – then their heads passed an arm’s reach below—
They walked on.
Reeve remained still. He would wait until they were at least thirty metres clear before moving—
A sharp thwack echoed through the trees.
One man jerked in pain as something hit him. His companion exclaimed in surprise—
Reeve had already reacted to the bullet’s impact, whipping his gun around. Even firing one-handed from an awkward position, at this range he couldn’t miss. The suppressor reduced each of his six shots to a muffled thud. Three rounds into each man’s back, and both fell.
He dropped from the tree. ‘Flynn,’ he growled. ‘I told you I didn’t need help.’
‘I was covering your arse,’ came the reply. ‘They were going to find you.’
He quickly checked the two figures. ‘They’d already gone past. But now they’re both dead, and sooner or later someone’ll realise they’re missing.’
‘So just speed things up,’ cut in Stone.
‘Which means more chance of making mistakes.’
Before the Londoner could reply, Blake cut in. ‘We’re at the administration building. Going inside.’
‘Better get your backside in gear, Reeve,’ said Stone. Annoyed, Reeve resumed his journey, moving more quickly.
He soon reached the fence’s end. Beyond was an expanse of wet tarmac between large warehouse-like buildings. Shipping containers and a few vehicles were dotted around. Nobody was in sight.
‘I’m at the east ingress,’ he whispered. ‘Starting the search.’
He moved through the yard. More buildings came into view, vans parked at unlit loading docks. Still no activity. He crouched behind a forklift. His target was somewhere on the base. But where?
It was unlikely to be here. All the nearby structures were logistical in nature. Few had interior lights on. Another check of his mental map. What had looked on aerial imagery like operations buildings were to the south. Sticking to the shadows, he headed in that direction.
Stone and Locke passed a firing range in the woods and continued south-west. ‘There’s the assault course,’ said Locke, crouching amongst bushes. Beyond an access road were several prefabricated buildings and Portakabins. Between them was the physical training facility; a useful landmark.
‘Not as fancy as ours,’ Stone noted with faint amusement. ‘Okay, the main buildings are on the far side. Let’s find our man and pop him—’
Locke let out a sharp hiss: quiet. He dropped lower. Stone swore and followed suit.
A two-man patrol walked along the road towards them. ‘Must be the ones Flynn saw,’ Locke whispered.
‘I thought they were down by the witch’s house,’ growled Stone. ‘Deirdre, you fucking bog-ape, you’re supposed to be keeping watch.’
‘I don’t have fucking X-ray vision,’ came Flynn’s irate reply. ‘They went into the woods while I was watching the main gate. Oh, and Stone? Fuck you.’
‘Yeah, dream on.’
‘Shut up,’ hissed Locke. Stone gave him a dirty look, but fell silent.
The patrol ambled along, torch beams sweeping with disinterest over the roadside. One brushed Locke, but with his form broken by camo and shadows, he went unnoticed. Then they passed, continuing eastwards.
A wordless look between Locke and Stone . . . and they rose.
The big Londoner brought up his submachine gun. Locke, however, drew a matt-black carbon-fibre combat knife. He cleared the bushes and advanced cat-like for several steps – then rushed.
One man heard his footsteps and turned. Red flowers burst open across his chest as Stone fired. Locke was on his companion before he could react. The knife sliced through the air to find his throat.
Stone jogged up beside Locke. ‘You’re dead, arseholes,’ he told the fallen figures, before addressing the other man. ‘Why didn’t you just shoot ’em? Would have been safer.’
Locke returned his blade to its sheath. ‘I like to keep my surgical skills honed.’ There was no humour in his voice. Stone let out a faintly unsettled half-laugh. They dragged the men into the bushes, then continued into the main complex.
CHAPTER 3
Flynn watched Stone and Locke disappear behind a building through her scope. ‘Christ,’ she whispered. She had shot the patrol to protect Reeve, but this? They had acted purely for their own enjoyment.
But what was done, was done. ‘Locke, Stone, I’ve lost line of sight.’ She could no longer provide cover. ‘I’m coming down. Reeve, I’ll catch up.’
Reeve’s acknowledgement was terse. She started back down the ladder.
Parker stopped outside a modern block at the heart of the base. ‘Looks like someone’s waiting for us.’ A figure was silhouetted behind glass doors. ‘Think you can fool them?’
‘Of course,’ Blake replied. ‘It helps when you know the lingo.’ Parker began to get out, giving him a quizzical glance when he didn’t move. ‘Play the part, remember? I’m the colonel, you’re the lieutenant. Now, hold my umbrella. I don’t want to get wet.’
‘Posh bastard,’ Parker growled under his breath. He rounded the car and raised an umbrella before opening the door for Blake. The taller man stepped out beneath the cover. He made a show of straightening his uniform, then started for the entrance. Parker flanked him, keeping him dry.
The waiting man was the watch officer, a youthful captain. He greeted Blake with a salute, but remained wary. ‘We weren’t expecting you, sir,’ he said, after brief introductions.
‘You should have had the notification this morning,’ Blake snapped. ‘Where’s your office? I’ve had a long and tedious drive, I need a coffee.’
‘This way, sir.’ The captain led the way. ‘In here.’
Two junior non-commissioned officers were inside, both rising as they saw Blake’s uniform. He acknowledged them, then surveyed the room. An administrative office, which in daytime would house nine or ten staff. ‘Are you the entire night shift?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said the captain. He went to a coffee pot. ‘If I may ask, sir – why are you here?’
‘It’s about your VIP guest,’ Blake replied.
The other men seemed confused, apparently out of the loop. The captain, though, nodded. ‘Ah, I see. You’re here to meet him?’
‘In a way.’ Blake glanced at Parker. ‘We’re here to kill him.’ They both drew suppressed handguns.
The three men stared at the weapons in bewilderment. One of the juniors let out a nervous involuntary giggle. ‘I assure you, we’re quite serious,’ Blake said, before his voice rose to a bark. ‘Now get up. Into the corner. Move!’
‘Ah – do as he says,’ the captain told the other two uncertainly. They backed away, Blake advancing to cover them.
Parker went to one of their computers. ‘Still logged in. That makes things easier.’ He sat and produced a USB drive, plugging it in.
‘What are you doing?’ the captain demanded.
‘Quiet,’ snapped Blake. ‘Well? Can you get in?’
Parker ignored him. The USB mounted, and he double-clicked on a file. He waited for a program to run – then pushed a button on the flash drive. A window appeared. ‘I’m in. Got access to the base’s network.’
Locke’s voice buzzed in his earpiece. ‘You bypassed the security?’
‘Yeah. Now, wait.’ Parker typed rapid commands. A list of numbers scrolled up the screen. ‘We know his laptop’s MAC address. I’m checking if it’s on the system. If he logged in, I’ll know where he was. If he’s still logged in, I’ll know where he is.’
‘To the building?’ asked Blake.
‘To the room.�
�
‘How long will it take?’
‘Couple of minutes.’
Blake gave his prisoners a mocking smile. ‘I should have let you make me that coffee.’
Reeve ducked around a corner as a van approached. It stopped near a loading bay. Nobody got out, but he saw a pale light in the cab. The driver was making a phone call. Needing to continue unseen, Reeve continued behind the building. The perimeter fence stood before him, running parallel to the railway line.
‘Reeve, I’m through the fence.’ Flynn. ‘Where are you?’
‘Behind a pale green prefab on the east perimeter,’ he answered, slipping southwards. ‘There’s a guy in a van outside the front.’
‘Wait for me. I’ll be with you in three minutes.’
Reeve frowned in impatience. ‘We still need to search for the target.’
‘Parker’s on it. He’ll tell us where to look.’
‘And what if he can’t find him?’
Flynn made a sound of annoyance. ‘Just wait for me, for Christ’s sake.’
Reeve reached the building’s far end. A large, blank-walled structure rose ahead, crates and pallets piled outside. Head around it towards the base’s centre, or keep following the perimeter?
He chose the former. The target was more likely to be near the heart of things. He moved along the green building’s side to check the roadway beyond. The van was still stationary, lights on. Staying in the shadows, he scurried to the larger structure and surveyed what lay beyond.
More industrial-looking buildings, trees, a couple of parked trucks. A car drove along a road sixty metres distant, but soon passed from sight.
Nowhere that seemed an obvious place to find his target. Maybe he should see if Parker could locate him after all . . .
He was about to withdraw when he heard something. Distant, the wind carrying the sound.
A helicopter.
Civilian aircraft would generally avoid flying in these conditions. So it was probably military. And he was in a military facility.
The team’s objective was to eliminate the target before he left the base. They had expected him to depart by road. But if he left by air . . .
The faint rhythmic thudding reached him again. Still some distance away – but now fractionally louder.
He was about to warn the others when Parker spoke first.
‘I’ve got him,’ Parker crowed. ‘He’s logged into the base network a few times. Last time was . . . less than ten minutes ago.’
‘Where?’ asked Blake, eyes not leaving his three prisoners.
‘The communications centre. Near that big open field.’
‘He’s leaving in a chopper,’ Reeve cut in urgently. ‘I just heard one. I think it’s coming in.’
‘There’s an airport ten miles away,’ objected Stone. ‘It could be going there.’
‘You want to risk it?’
‘Reeve’s right,’ said Blake. ‘It’d be just like that bastard to sneak out under our noses. Everyone head for the field – it’s got to be the landing zone.’
Stone was still argumentative. ‘Who fucking put you in charge?’
‘Would you rather keep playing hide and seek in the rain?’ suggested Locke. ‘We’re on the way.’
‘Parker, let’s go,’ Blake ordered. Parker retrieved the USB drive and stood.
The captain watched as he headed for the exit. ‘What about us?’
‘I’m afraid,’ Blake told him mildly, ‘you failed your security test.’
His gun thumped three times.
Parker regarded the aftermath. ‘Bit harsh. They were just doing their jobs.’
Blake smiled. ‘Did you want to waste time finding rope to tie them up?’ He followed Parker to the door. ‘We’d better get moving. We have a flight to catch.’
Flynn followed Reeve’s route into the main complex. She stopped at a corner. The van Reeve had mentioned waited ahead, headlights reflecting off wet tarmac.
If she crossed in front of it, she would be seen. She backtracked. The helicopter’s clatter was now discernible above the rain. Coming closer.
She returned to the east ingress. On entering she had gone left; now she went right. A long rank of parked military trucks greeted her. She hurried past them and peered out from behind a building.
There was the green prefab. She went to the next corner, checking the loading bays beyond. The van was still stationary, but now she could pass it unseen. ‘Reeve, I’m almost with you,’ she said, as she crossed the open yard.
‘I’ve already gone,’ came the reply. ‘I’m heading for the field.’
She stopped, hesitating before turning back. ‘I told you to wait for—’
‘Hey! You! Halt!’
Two burly men were approaching from the south, fifty metres away. Both were armed, rifles snapping up. One broke into a run as the other crouched to target her. ‘Drop your weapon!’ the latter yelled.
She couldn’t reach cover before being shot. And if she fired on one man, the other would get her. ‘Reeve, I need help,’ she hissed.
Reeve was cutting through a darkened parking lot when he heard Flynn’s plea. He ducked between two trucks, considering his options. She was at least a hundred metres back. ‘How many men?’
‘Two. One’s running right at me.’
His decision was instant. ‘I can’t help you.’
‘What? You bastard, we’re supposed to—’
She stopped talking, instead pulling her rifle’s trigger. A man’s muted cry – then Flynn herself gasped in pain. A thump as she fell to the road’s hard surface. ‘Jesus, fuck!’ she moaned, another man shouting in the background . . .
Then nothing.
‘Shit,’ Reeve muttered. But there was no way he could have reached her in time to intervene.
And the mission always took priority. Every team member knew that. Including Flynn.
He moved again. The alarm would be raised at any moment. The helicopter was now clearly audible.
His target was about to escape.
The thought spurred him on even faster between the darkened buildings.
CHAPTER 4
‘Shit, Reeve was right,’ said Stone, as he heard the incoming helicopter. ‘How far to the field?’
‘Two hundred metres,’ said Locke. ‘Across the main road.’ The base’s centre was bisected by a two-lane roadway.
‘Past all the buildings with fucking lights on, you mean.’ Beyond the road were numerous blocks of living quarters.
‘Down the back, through the trees.’ Locke led the way, sprinting across the road. Stone followed—
Alarm bells rang, followed by an urgent, raucous klaxon. ‘Balls,’ spat Stone. ‘Flynn, you stupid Mick bitch! They know we’re here.’
He raced after Locke as floodlights burst to life around the base.
Blake and Parker ran from the administration building. The dark expanse of the field was off to their right. They hurried towards it.
‘There!’ Blake shouted. The helicopter was coming in from the south, descending quickly. He followed its track, predicting where it was going to land. The field’s northern edge. ‘Move it.’
Headlights appeared, a car coming between two accommodation blocks. ‘Must be him,’ said Parker.
The aircraft dropped heavily on to the grass. The car stopped. A figure ran from it towards the helicopter.
Parker raised his gun, but the man was already shielded by the fuselage. ‘I don’t have an angle.’
Stone and Locke raced around the accommodation blocks to the field. The helicopter, rotors whirling just below take-off speed, was ahead. A cabin door slammed shut.
Locke sent three rapid shots at the fuselage. All hit the side window. Stone, however, fired on full-auto – at the cockpit. The curved windshield erupted with b
ullet impacts.
A pause – then the shrill of the engines dropped. The rotors began to wind down.
Stone gave his companion a triumphant grin. ‘If you can’t hit the passenger, hit the driver.’
‘We still need to hit the passenger, though,’ Locke pointed out. Someone scrambled from the aircraft’s far side.
‘I see him,’ Blake reported over the radio. ‘Firing – damn it!’ The car surged forward, skidding around to shield the running figure. The man ducked behind it and leapt inside.
Stone and Locke fired again, but the car set off despite taking multiple hits. It fishtailed on the wet ground before powering back the way it had come.
‘Come on!’ Locke barked. ‘We might intercept him on the main road.’
‘We’ll go after him in the car,’ said Blake.
Locke and Stone reversed course. The alarm was already drawing a response. Several uniformed men emerged from a building to the west. More would follow.
They passed the nearest block, crossing a secondary road. Stone looked along it in case the target was coming their way.
Instead, he saw rapidly retreating red tail lights.
‘Target going east,’ he reported. ‘He’s getting away.’
Blake and Parker reached their car. ‘I’ll drive,’ snapped the former. He set off before Parker had closed his door.
He reversed at speed, whipping the wheel around hard. The car skidded into a J-turn, coming completely about. Blake controlled it with practised ease and powered from the car park.
Parker wound down his window and readied his gun. ‘Where is he?’
‘Should be coming from the left – shit!’ A van rushed out of a side road ahead – from the right. Blake swerved to avoid a collision as it tried to block them.
More lights flared in the rear-view mirror. No sign of their target’s vehicle. ‘The situation’s getting rather dicey,’ he said. ‘If we don’t take him right now, we’ll need to bail out.’
Parker squinted into the blowing rain. ‘Still can’t see him.’
Blake glanced at the mirror again. The headlights were in pursuit, coming fast. ‘Stone, Locke, I’m coming along the main road,’ he said, accelerating. ‘The mission’s blown – time to leave.’
Operative 66 : A Novel Page 2
