Time slowed down as the shooter overcorrected in his swerving van, still heading for the floodwall, he spun the van to try and make the turn, but the wheels hit the small pavement at the base of the floodwall. The van rolled over and hit the floodwall with its roof, the momentum sending it over into the river.
Gibbs's van had skidded to a halt, and he lay on the bottom of the cab, covered in glass and looking at his hand that was covered in blood from a wound on his head. He tried to move, but could only blink a few times. It all got blurry.
Crying out in pain as he rolled out of the vacant windshield, he clambered up to his feet. Squinting through the blur, he could not see the sniper. His first step failed as his leg gave way, and he collapsed sideways into the sludge and slime. Focusing his vision with a few blinks, he saw what he wanted. Crawling on all fours, he reached the shotgun and used it as a crutch to get to his feet. Pulling the bolt back, he saw the bronze and red casing of the shotgun shell. His luck had turned.
Staggering towards the T-junction, he looked in either direction for the van. Nothing. An NEG truck was approaching from his left. Gibbs looked down to see glass shards up against the floodwall and a streak of white paint. He smiled.
Pain shot up his leg as he limped to the wall and peered over. The steaming wreck of the van was two meters below him, lying on the glistening stones of the Thames riverbed. The shooter had managed to crawl out and was lying three metres away. The man tried to push himself to his feet, but his hands slipped on the slippery stones.
Gibbs raised the shotgun.
The shooter turned over and fell onto his back, grimacing as he looked up at Gibbs.
Gibbs blinked his eyes and squeezed the trigger.
Hands grabbed him and yanked him back as the retort of the shotgun went off into the air.
'Arrrgh! Leave me the fuck alone,' he shouted as six NEG men dragged him away.
Chapter 17
Richmond Park, Richmond, London, England, UK - 2033
'Okay, mate, easy does it,' Warren said and helped Andrei restrain Gibbs from pulling the IVs out of his arms.
Gibbs looked up at their blurred faces and blinked then looked up at the green tent roof. Two round lights hung from the tent frame above him. Pain pierced the back of his eyes from the light, and he turned away to face Andrei, who had sat back down in a chair.
'You have a concussion and a few small cuts from all the glass. Aside from a few other bumps and bruises, you are lucky to be alive,' Andrei said.
Gibbs's head was swimming with images of Christina, exploding foreheads and rolling cars. 'Why did the bloody NEG take so long to get involved?'
Andrei frowned, and then looked across at Warren, who shrugged. Gibbs looked at them both, 'Are you trying to hide something from me, Andrei? Are you involved with Butler?'
'Don't be silly, Gibbs. You've had an accident while you were chasing up on a lead. We were a few minutes away from you when you rolled the vehicle.’
Gibbs squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus. 'Then you are helping Tom Scott with this all.'
Warren leaned forward. ‘Gibbs, Tom is dead. Shot by that big German fella.'
'If he could be turned by Butler then so could all of you…' Gibbs stopped and then sat up in bed. 'Can I get some water?'
He sat there drinking for a few minutes with his jumbled thoughts.
'How long have I been out?'
'Several hours. You have been brought to an army infirmary in Richmond Park,' Warren said.
'Any news about Christina?' he asked. 'Did the shooter survive?'
Andrei looked across the bed to Warren. 'He was captured by one of our teams. We have him in transit to the NEG compound in Canary Wharf.'
'I want to interrogate him this time,' Gibbs said.
He swung his legs off the bed and tried to get up. Nausea caused the room to spin, and he shook his head to try to get his balance receptors firing again. Then he spewed hot bile vomit over the bed next to him as he was violently ill.
'Lie back down, my friend. You need to get another good long sleep into you,' Andrei said as he grabbed his arm.
• • •
Twenty-four hours later and Gibbs was sitting on the end of his bed lacing up his black hiking boots. He stood up to get his jacket from the small wooden table next to the army bunk and stumbled as the queasiness took over.
'Glad to see that you are on your feet again,' Andrei said as he walked into the tent and sat down on the army cot next to Gibbs. 'I have brought you someone who you need to listen to. Promise me you will keep an open mind about him before kicking off and doing something stupid.'
Gibbs looked up as a tall man of Jamaican ancestry walked in and crossed over to Gibbs. He had three scars across his left cheek and had a very familiar look about him.
'I am Tyson Scott, Tom's brother.'
Gibbs clenched his fists, and he looked across at Andrei. 'What the fuck, Andrei,' he said, taking a step towards the tall man.
‘Gibbs! Listen to what he has to say.'
Gibbs stared at the tall man. 'You had better make good for what your bloody brother has done.'
Tyson Scott stepped closer to Gibbs and stood with his legs apart and hands crossed in front of him. His jawbone twitched as he glared at Gibbs. 'I've handled all the logistics for Tom's businesses for the past three years and was surprised when one of our NEG-issued vehicles was stolen ten days ago. I pressed Tom to let me find out who had taken it. You know, to rattle a few of our informants. Tom told me not to do it.'
Gibbs took a step forward. 'So far I'm not that impressed, mate.'
'Well, I told him that it would make us look weak if we didn’t find the thieving fuckers and punish them. It was then that he told me that Desiree and the kids had been kidnapped.'
Gibbs looked across at Andrei, who nodded slowly.
'He had lied to me and said that they were away visiting family and taking a break from London. I naturally believed him,' Tyson said.
'Why didn't he come to us, or even better, why didn't he contact Andrei?' Gibbs said. 'I believed that Butler had turned him with all the power and money.'
'For that matter, so did I,' Andrei added.
Tyson looked down at his hands, picking at some imaginary dirt under his nails. 'Tom was always a proud man. He wouldn’t even tell me initially, so would never have endangered their lives by coming to you.'
'What else did he say?' Gibbs asked.
'Nothing more than that they were held hostage and would be taken to the US if he didn't comply. Then some tall German bloke arrived, and they argued. The following day, Tom took some of our top men and disappeared.'
'That must be when they kidnapped Christina, Stuart, and the girls,' Gibbs said.
Tyson nodded.
'Where are the men now?' Gibbs asked.
'The scum are in the wind, I am afraid. We have only just found Tom's body at the Candlemaker warehouse. Andrei just told me that the German fella killed him in cold blood,' Tyson said.
Gibbs stared at the young man as he fidgeted and looked around the tent. 'Tom was doing what he had to. I would probably have done the same to get Christina back.'
'Whatever you are going to do to get these fuckers, I want in,' Tyson said to Andrei.
'I understand your feelings about this, Tyson, but I need you to stay in London and assume the mantle of Warlord until the NEG decides what to do.'
'I agree. You need to stay here and keep beating the bushes for any more leads,' Gibbs said. 'If they have taken them to the US then there is an excellent chance that Christina was with them, or at least followed shortly after. I am going to follow them and save them.'
Gibbs looked at a smiling Andrei.
'I will need to get clearance from the Chancellor first. Give me a day or two to make some calls to both the NEG and NAG. They are both very keen to speak to Butler.'
• • •
At Carshalton House, the early morning bedlam was increasing as all the families started arr
iving for work, filing past the main house and down to the barn and courtyard, laughter echoing through the group. Animals that had spent the night in confined pens and stables wanted feeding and their daily freedom. Inside the house kitchen, Warren put the coffee mug back on one of the wooden coasters that were on the oak kitchen table.
'So we are going to the US then?'
'I will be going with my team. I need you stay here and look after the commune.'
'There is no chance of that happening, Gibbs,' Warren said, 'I am going.'
'We cannot both leave here, Warren. I will be better on my own.'
Amanda, who was preparing lunch for the children, slammed the kettle down on the Arga. 'Kyle Gibbs! Don't you dare be such a condescending idiot. We can cope here for weeks or even a few months without you two.'
'Sorry, Amanda, but let me finish,' he interrupted.
'No! You shut up and listen!' she snapped. 'We have the estate under control. All eighteen other families have done this for four years now, and we can cover while you two go and get your families. And Gibbs, don't you dare try and leave this poor boy behind.’
Gibbs looked at her for a few seconds and then across to Warren. 'Looks like you will be going to America.'
'Too bloody right.'
Gibbs picked up the satphone and dialled.
'Hello, Andrei. How are your investigations going?'
'Morning, Gibbs. I am waiting for one last bit of information to come in, but as you are on the line. I can confirm that I have got authority from the High Chancellor of the NEG to take control of a fusion-powered cargo ship that is moored in Southampton called the Edith Mærsk. Her original plan was to go to Europe in a few weeks, but we can use her to get to New York.
'My counterpart in the NAG has agreed to supply you with five trucks with around fifty trained men with arms and ammunition. They also want you to catch Butler and find out what he is up to. You are to stop him at all costs. So get planning and tell me how soon you can leave.'
'That's great news. I'll get right on it.'
'And, Gibbs. He is to be captured alive. High Chancellor Rolin has ordered you to bring him back to stand trial in the NEG Forum. He will get the death penalty if convicted but you first have to bring him to trial.'
'I cannot promise that Butler will live through this, Andrei. What happens over there happens.'
'Just be warned that Chancellor Rolin is not someone to be trifled with,' Andrei said.
‘I will want to try and recruit some of my old team to join me. Is that okay?'
'Yes.'
'You will have to kit all of them up and pay them a salary.'
'Fine, I can approve that right now.'
'Let me contact them, do some planning, and I will call you tomorrow,' Gibbs said and hung up.
'So, am I part of this team of yours?' Warren smiled.
'That you are, mate. Now make yourself useful and run down to the admin office and get Christina's red address book. I need to put a team together.'
• • •
The young boy's voice on the other end of the phone made Gibbs feel a dull pain of loss. How he missed the cheerful little face of his son. The mop of scraggly, white hair. The sounds of laughter throughout the house.
'Hello?' a male voice said.
'Smithy, you old bastard. How are things?'
'Bloody heck, boss. It has been a while.'
'Too long, my old friend. How are you keeping?'
'Not too bad, thanks. You?' Smith said.
'I’m okay. What are you up to nowadays?' Gibbs asked.
'I've been doing some freelance security work and a little black ops stuff for the NEG around Europe. Mostly sitting around and driving my wife and son mad. Missing the old days, you know.’
'Well, I am putting together a team to go after Butler again.'
'What! Is that maniac still around? I thought he would have died in those dungeons years ago.'
'No, he escaped a few days after we brought down the Phoenix Council. Some of his loyal followers helped him out of London, and he disappeared. Now the bastard has resurfaced and is causing havoc through the north, and across parts of Europe again.'
'What's the job?'
'We are leaving for the US to capture him and bring him back for trial.'
'Oh! That’s a long way by boat, boss. Not sure if the missus will tolerate me being away that long.'
'I understand,' Gibbs said. 'Look, Smithy, he has kidnapped Christina and Stuart, my four-year-old son, as well as the family of the late Tom Scott. You remember the Warlord of London.'
'Bloody hell, mate. I am sorry to hear that. I have done a little work for Tom, although never met him.'
'Butler is the man behind all of this pain and he needs to be caught and punished.'
There was silence for a few seconds. 'What does it pay?'
'Fifty thousand NEG vouchers each.'
'Damn it. That is a lot of cash. I could buy us a better house.'
'It’s a lot of cash, but it will be a dangerous job.'
‘Is there any other type when you are involved, boss?’
Gibbs laughed.
'Okay then. Tell me where and when the boat leaves. I will be there.'
'I'll text you the pier number, date, and time,' Gibbs said. 'And, Smithy, I owe you one.'
‘Sure you do. Add it to the long list of other things.’
Gibbs stood up from the table and went for a walk through the house. It was quiet as he walked out of the kitchen and past the stairway that went up to the bedroom area. He entered the large hallway that led to the front doors and passed through to the big lounge. Gibbs walked over to a large cabinet and opened it. Bottles of fine whiskies and brandies packed the dark wood cabinet. He reached in for a bottle of Oban whiskey and poured a healthy couple of fingers' worth into a tumbler. Walking back to a large cream couch, he sat down. Looking at the call button of the satphone, he hesitated as he rubbed his thumb over the button. Clenching his teeth, he pressed down on it.
'Hello, Sheila. It's Gibbs.'
'Well, hello, stranger. How are things down south in London?'
'Still wet and flooding,' he replied. 'How are the Byrnes of Aberdeen?'
'We have a few good days, but mostly bad ones. He misses you and all the missions, I think. Never really settled into domestic life.'
'You're a saint to put up with him, Sheila.'
'Please tell that to the judge at my murder trial.'
Gibbs laughed. 'I have missed you, lovely.'
'You too, stranger.'
‘Sorry I've been so scarce recently.'
'It's okay. I know the whole thing reminds you of your old man. So what do you want with Grumpy?'
'I have some work that needs a man of his special set of skills. I won't go into all the details, but it is across in the US. The pay is remarkably good.'
'I'm not worried about the money. It’s the damn travel ban and the quarantine thing that worries me more. And besides he can barely stand up most days, let alone fight.'
Gibbs could hear a voice screaming at her in the background. 'Here the drunk is now. Take care, Gibbs, whatever you two decide to do.'
'Boss, is that you?' Shredder slurred.
'Shredder, you arse. Are you drunk again?'
A hearty laugh resonated down the line. 'As always. Find me some bloody work, and I will be happy to climb out the wee bottle. Until then…'
'Butler has kidnapped Christina and Stuart.'
'What? The fucker,' he slurred. 'Are we going after him?'
'We are, and I need a good second-in-command.'
'Where do I sign up?'
'There is a plane arriving in two hours at the Aberdeen airstrip. Can you be on it?'
'Aye, I can.'
'Good, and leave the bloody bottle at home. We are travelling to America by ship. So there will be ten days of no alcohol, you might as well start fighting the detox demons now.'
Chapter 18
Greenock Quay, Glasgow are
a, Scotland - 2033
Christina struggled to breathe under the weight of the two men who had her pinned on the cold floor of her accommodation. Her face was pressed to the ground as one of her captors had his forearm across the back of her neck. The loud zipping noise of the cable ties echoed around the room before the pinch of pain hit her as some of her wrist skin got nipped in the tightening restraints behind her back. The second man, who was kneeling across her buttocks, grabbed her elbows and squeezed them towards one another. She groaned from the pain as the tendons and ligaments strained. He slipped a length of rope through and bound her elbows.
'There you are, bitch, try and fight against that,' the man kneeling on her said as he slapped her left buttock cheek.
The other man laughed and eased up on her neck, then pushed himself up and dragged her up by her sore elbows. A groan escaped her lips as pain exploded up into her shoulders. Christina squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the pain. Swaying a little as she stood, one of the men came up behind her, the one who smelt like beer and cigarettes, and reached around her, fondling her breasts.
The man burst out laughing for a few seconds and then squeezed her breast again. Christina jerked her head backwards and caught him flush on the nose with a loud crack. She briefly saw stars from the blow and smiled a little at the satisfying sound.
The man screamed and bent over forwards. 'I will kill you, you bitch.'
Christina turned around and smiled. The man sneered at her, blood pouring from his nose. He grabbed her by the throat with his left hand and was about to hit her.
'Leave her alone!' Woolf's booming voice came from the door.
'She broke my bloody nose,' the man shouted. 'I am going to teach her a lesson.'
Woolf unbuttoned the long beige jacket and placed his hand on the Beretta wedged into his belt. 'I will kill you where you stand, fool,' he said. 'Only Lord Butler decides her fate. Now get the hell out of here.'
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