Gray Salvation

by Alan McDermott

  Ellis cursed silently. This was one slippery fish, but she felt the net tightening. ‘Okay, see if you can dig up the last time the passport was used, anywhere. We need to know what he looks like.’

  It was still far too early to meet Harvey’s flight, so Ellis backed out of the street and drove to the hospital.

  The layout was now very familiar, and two minutes after parking her car she was walking down the corridor to the private ward Farsi and Thompson were sharing – an added security measure to protect them from Russian retaliation. She flashed her ID at the cop standing guard outside, knowing her revoked access wouldn’t have trickled down this far so soon.

  Inside, she found her colleagues lying in their beds. Farsi was reading a book, half of his body still encased in plaster. He looked over at Thompson, who was sleeping, and put a finger to his lips.

  ‘She’s only just dropped off,’ Farsi whispered. ‘She hasn’t been sleeping well.’

  Ellis took a seat next to his bed. ‘I can imagine. She’s been through a hell of a lot recently. How’s she holding up?’

  ‘It’s hard to tell. She seems withdrawn, and she doesn’t want to speak about what happened.’

  ‘And how about you?’ Ellis asked. ‘Still having those nightmares?’

  She was aware that the incident had affected him psychologically, and the latest report she’d received from the shrink suggested he still felt responsible for Harvey’s abduction.

  ‘Not recently,’ Farsi said, ‘but I put that down to the drugs they’re pumping into me.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got news that might help,’ Ellis told him. It had been a couple of days since her last visit, and they had a lot of catching up to do. ‘Andrew is on his way home. Gray managed to get him out.’

  ‘Thank God! How is he?’

  ‘You’ll see soon enough,’ Ellis said. ‘I’ll be bringing him here later this evening. He got knocked around a bit, but nothing too serious from what Gray told me.’

  ‘If this carries on, we’ll soon have our own dedicated wing in the hospital.’

  Ellis managed a smile, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that. There’d been more than enough violence directed towards her people in the last couple of weeks.

  Her people.

  She’d almost forgotten Maynard’s order to suspend her.

  ‘You’ll notice a few changes when you get back to the office,’ Ellis said. ‘For starters, someone else will be taking over my role.’

  ‘What? Why? Is this because you sent Gray in to rescue Andrew?’

  ‘Not so much that, but the effect it had on the region. The Russians are royally pissed off and pouring troops into Tagrilistan. Maynard thinks we’re on the brink of war.’

  ‘Are we?’ Farsi asked.

  ‘I very much doubt it. If they succeed in killing Milenko this evening, the trade deal is off and they’ll have a chance to court the next leader of Tagrilistan. If we manage to catch the sniper first, we can hopefully connect the dots back to Moscow. Not even the Chinese would stand in their corner if they knew Demidov ultimately sanctioned the hit.’

  ‘That’ll be hard to prove,’ Farsi said.

  ‘I know, which is why we need to capture that sniper. The money trail will be the easiest to follow, but we need to take him alive.’

  Thompson’s body jerked in her bed, as if she’d been shocked, but seconds later she was back into a deep sleep, a gentle snore emanating from her.

  ‘I’d better go,’ Ellis said. ‘If she wakes up, you get to tell her the good news. Say I’ll be back with Andrew sometime after seven.’

  Ellis left and walked back to her car, glad that the forecast rain had held off. Traffic was already beginning to build as the rush hour kicked in, and it was a tortuous, ninety-minute drive to Heathrow Airport. During it, Ellis found herself tapping her feet and fingers nervously and realised that she wouldn’t be able to relax until she saw Harvey walk out into the arrivals hall.

  The gang would soon be reunited, only to be ripped from her.

  Chapter 29

  28 January 2016

  The Boeing 747 descended through charcoal clouds and landed at Heathrow three minutes ahead of schedule.

  Gray led the team off the plane and through immigration, where their temporary travel papers were scrutinised carefully. It took ten minutes to get through, and they bypassed the luggage carousels and headed straight through customs and into the arrivals area, five figures dressed in just about the worst smart-casual gear Tagrilistan had to offer. Still, Gray thought, it beats bloodstained fatigues.

  ‘I don’t know about anyone else,’ Sonny said, ‘but I intend to stop off at an off-licence, grab some beers, order a takeaway and disappear off the face of the planet for at least a week.’

  ‘It’s about time you had a great idea,’ Smart said with a smile. ‘Count me in.’

  Mark Howard declined the offer, preferring to head home and check on his tropical fish, while Gray and Harvey said they expected someone to be waiting for them.

  Ellis was easy to spot, her immaculate platinum hair making her stand out in the crowd. Gray approached her with his arm extended, expecting a handshake. He wasn’t prepared for her to throw her arms around him and squeeze him tight.

  ‘Bless you, Tom. Thanks for bringing Andrew home.’

  The hug was over before he could reply, and she moved on to Harvey, giving him the same treatment. As their bodies parted, Harvey scanned the large hall, a confused look on his face.

  ‘Sarah didn’t come with you?’ he asked.

  Ellis remained silent for a moment, and Gray knew bad news was imminent.

  ‘Sarah’s in the hospital. She went after Bessonov when we thought the mission to rescue you had failed. She got hurt pretty badly.’

  Gray felt a flash of anger building, but Harvey beat him to it.

  ‘If you tell me he’s still walking the streets, I’m gonna kill him.’

  ‘He’s been arrested,’ Ellis said. ‘The police are close to charging him with Sarah’s abduction, but we want the sniper to really turn the screw. And we think he’ll strike tonight.’ She took Harvey’s elbow gently. ‘Come along.’

  As she led them out of the airport and to the car park, she condensed the last few days of activity into a couple of minutes.

  ‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ Smart asked.

  ‘We’ve got it covered,’ Ellis said. ‘Besides, you guys have done enough already.’

  ‘In that case, we’ll share a taxi into town,’ Smart said. ‘Tom, call me when you’re done.’

  Gray gave each of the trio his best man-hug and thanked them for their help. ‘I’m officially declaring us too old for this shit,’ he said before they left.

  Ellis and Harvey also offered their gratitude, and the party split up.

  ‘Let’s get you to the hospital,’ Ellis said to Harvey. ‘I haven’t had a chance to tell Sarah you’re safe. I went to see her a couple of hours ago, but she was sleeping.’

  ‘Then let her sleep,’ Harvey said. ‘I want to see this guy taken down.’

  ‘I’ll take you to where we think the sniper will strike from, but I’m not sure they’ll let us anywhere near the place,’ Ellis said. ‘My decision to send Tom and his team into Tagrilistan inflamed the region, and Maynard suspended me.’

  ‘That’s bullshit,’ Gray said. ‘Maynard and the PM should be kicked out of government for leaving Andrew to rot over there.’

  ‘We all know your feelings on the powers that be,’ Ellis said, ‘but that’s not going to happen. If someone is going to take the fall, it won’t be those at the top.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re not going to fight this,’ Harvey noted.

  ‘What’s the point? I’m guilty as charged. The only defence I could possibly offer is that Tom took it upon himself to launch the rescue attempt, but I’m not going to stab him in the back. It was my call, and I’d make it again.’

  Had it been any other civil servant, Gray knew the outcome would have b
een very different, but Ellis was a woman of her word.

  ‘If the sniper is taken down, won’t that count in your favour?’ he asked. ‘I’m sure Milenko would be grateful, and he might put in a good word with Maynard.’

  ‘Possibly,’ Ellis said, ‘but I’m not banking on it. I just want Bessonov to pay for what he’s done, and catching this guy will go a long way towards that.’

  ‘Where is this going to take place?’ Harvey asked.

  ‘There are three new residential projects on the south bank of the river, and they all offer a decent view of the Orion Hotel. That’s where Milenko will be entertained this evening.’

  Traffic was still relatively heavy as they drove back into the city, and Harvey pressed for news on Thompson’s condition. As Ellis told him all about Thompson’s ordeal, Gray couldn’t help thinking it was going to be a long time, if ever, before she made a full recovery. He knew a few fellow soldiers who had gone through a lot less and had caved in on themselves, while others went back to work within a few weeks. There was simply no telling how it would affect her in the long term, but for her sake – and for Harvey’s – he hoped she would be able to put it behind her one day.

  ‘Sounds like she went through a hell of a lot,’ he said to Harvey. ‘You both have. You’re going to need to be strong for her.’

  Gray hoped putting the onus on Harvey would help his friend to forget his own torment. The worst thing that could happen would be for the couple to wallow in their collective misery.

  ‘What do you know about the sniper?’ Gray asked, changing the subject before Harvey had time to dwell on his words.

  Ellis shared the information the police had given them as she made a right turn and pulled into a car park next to a red-brick giant. The building was a ten-storey residential block, one of three that overlooked the Thames. The other two looked similar, though the one in the middle had a penthouse that made it slightly taller.

  ‘Where’s the police presence?’ Gray asked. A ten-metre-wide walkway ran past the buildings, separating them from a sprawling office complex. He could see a few people leaving work and others using it as a cut-through, but no-one appeared to be there in an official capacity.

  ‘I told them to keep a low profile. We don’t want to scare this guy off. I’d imagine they’re inside the buildings, checking people as they enter.’

  A woman toting three carrier bags walked into the nearest building, closely followed by a man fitting the vague description of the subject. A minute later, a man wearing a black leather jacket emerged and walked towards the car park. He glanced in at Gray as he passed, then carried on to a silver estate car. The driver got out and walked round the back, popping the trunk, and Leather Jacket handed him a small glass tube. Gray couldn’t see what they were doing as the car was parked the wrong way, but it looked suspicious.

  ‘Any idea what’s going on there?’ he asked.

  ‘That’ll be the portable DNA unit,’ Ellis said. ‘Anyone close to a fit will have their mouth swabbed and checked against our known sample.’

  Two minutes later, Leather Jacket walked casually back to the building, his manner suggesting he hadn’t identified an international hit man.

  Gray’s watch told him it was almost a quarter to seven, and he hoped the stake-out wouldn’t last too long. He’d booked himself onto the last flight back to Florida, where his daughter awaited him. Having repaid his debt to Harvey, he just wanted to get back to Melissa and put this whole episode behind him.

  Ivan Zhabin leaned against the corner of the office building, his fedora pulled down tight and his collar turned up to combat the cold. His hands went to his face, making sure the beard was still firmly in place. He hadn’t wanted to wear it again, but the scrapes on his cheeks were still fresh and swollen, and though he’d done his best to disguise them using make-up, they still looked hideous on close inspection.

  His main concern was getting out of the country after the hit. None of his legitimate passports showed him sporting facial hair, and he wouldn’t welcome any extra scrutiny. The alternative was to stay in London for a few more days until the marks had receded, but that had its own dangers. It wouldn’t take long for the police to find the girl and start making enquiries. By not waiting to take the shot in Whitehall as initially planned, he was already a day ahead of schedule, but the sooner he left the country the better.

  Zhabin was due to meet with the estate agent in fifteen minutes, and continued to scan the area for signs of anyone who appeared to be acting out of the ordinary. All he’d seen for the last ten minutes had been office workers leaving and residents returning home. No-one appeared to be loitering in the shadows or talking into their jacket collars. In fact, the whole place looked very much as it had the day before.

  Zhabin still wasn’t prepared to let his guard down.

  He grabbed the handle of his wheeled suitcase and walked down the wide pavement. He faced straight ahead, but behind the tinted glasses his eyes were darting everywhere, looking for signs of trouble in doorways and the alleys between the buildings.

  He saw nothing to give him any cause for concern.

  Which struck him as odd.

  When planning a hit, he always started out by looking at it from the perspective of the local security services. What would they do to protect the mark? The Metropolitan Police Service was one of the most respected in the world, and given what was happening on the other side of the river, he would have expected at least a couple of patrol cars in the area.

  Perhaps they didn’t consider Milenko important enough, or had simply discounted a threat of this nature. He’d done his research and it showed no confirmed sniper kills in England in the last few decades, so perhaps it wasn’t something the British threw their resources at.

  He reached the end of the walkway, where a car park was filling up quickly as residents returned home for the evening. The majority of the vehicles were empty, but he saw three people sitting in a saloon, a woman behind the wheel. Light rain had settled on the windscreen, which made it difficult to make them out.

  Police? Security services?

  There was no way he could tell, but they didn’t appear to be paying him much attention. All three heads were pointing towards the apartment buildings, so they may have just been waiting for a fourth before heading out for a meal.

  Zhabin continued to the corner of the office complex and turned left, then left again at the main road. Four minutes later, he was back where he’d started, and when he glanced down the walkway he saw that only one thing had changed.

  Outside the middle building, standing beneath the bronze nameplate that proclaimed it Ashcroft House, a pretty blonde woman holding a clipboard was stamping her feet to fight off the cold.

  The estate agent.

  He walked towards her, again checking for signs of danger, but as with earlier he only saw people going about their normal business. The woman saw him approaching and held the clipboard to her chest so that he could see the company logo.

  ‘Mr Baume?’ She smiled. ‘I’m Erica.’

  Zhabin extended his hand. ‘Sorry to drag you out on such a miserable evening,’ he said, ‘but I have a flight in three hours and would like to see this place before I return to Germany. If I like it, we can start the ball rolling tomorrow.’

  The woman’s smile broadened at the prospect of a quick sale. ‘Then let’s take a look, shall we?’

  Erica led him towards the entrance, just as another couple were heading inside. She held the door open for them, then ushered Zhabin in out of the cold. He wheeled his luggage into the foyer as Erica began her pitch.

  ‘The apartment is on the market for four hundred thousand, but there might be a little wiggle room in there. The owner is leaving the country and wants to complete as soon as possible.’

  Zhabin was barely listening. His focus was on the surroundings, always plotting an alternative exit. To the left were a three-seater couch and a coffee table, and Erica was following the signs for the ground-
floor elevator.

  As they turned a corner, Zhabin’s pulse quickened.

  A man wearing jeans and an open suit jacket was holding a clipboard and asked the couple in front for their ID before consulting a list of names. Off to his side, a second man wearing a leather jacket was taking a keen interest in Zhabin. The bulges in their coats could only mean one thing.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention. There’s some kind of security thing going on today,’ Erica said. ‘I found out earlier when I showed another client an apartment in the next block. Don’t worry – I called ahead about our appointment, so we should be on their list. I’m sure they won’t keep us long.’

  Zhabin managed a smile, but inside his heart was pounding. He gripped the silenced pistol in his overcoat pocket as the one in the leather jacket ambled over and showed him a police ID.

  ‘What’s in the suitcase, sir?’

  ‘My clothes,’ Zhabin said. ‘After I view this apartment I have to catch a plane back to Germany.’

  Leather Jacket nodded. ‘Mind if I take a look?’

  The couple in front were waved through and pressed a button to summon the elevator.

  ‘Sure, no problem.’

  Zhabin wheeled the case over to a table and placed it on top, then unzipped it and lifted the lid. He took a couple of steps backwards to let the cop get a closer look.

  ‘We’ll also have to take a DNA swab,’ the cop said as he started removing items from the suitcase. ‘Just a sample of saliva. It won’t hurt at all.’

  At the mention of DNA, a chill went through Zhabin. The only thing linking him to his murders was his genetic make-up, and while many countries had a copy, they’d never had anyone to link it to.

  That was all about to change.

  A bell announced the arrival of the elevator, and the couple walked in and hit the button for their floor. Zhabin watched them from the corner of his eye, his main focus on the man going through his belongings. He watched as shirts and trousers were removed, followed by the toiletry bag, and Zhabin knew it wouldn’t be long before he found the false bottom containing the dismantled rifle. That, along with a DNA match, would be enough to put him away for several lifetimes.