Silent Weapon

by Andy McNab

  He held the blade between thumb and forefinger, and offered it back to the kid hilt first. It was a typical civilian blade – it could kill if the point went through your skin, but the cutting edge was a joke. It looked way cooler than it was. And Sean had no qualms about handing out free self-defence tips. If he got on the wrong end of the kid’s knife again, he knew plenty more that he wouldn’t be sharing.

  The kid scowled up at him, furiously blinking away tears of pain before anyone could notice them. His cap had come off in the tussle, to show a mop of sweaty, mousy hair that covered his ears. He groped for it and jammed it back on his head while he slowly got to his feet. He and Sean stood chest to chest again. Clashing whiffs of BO and Lynx came off the padded jacket.

  Meanwhile Sean’s brain had finally subtracted a few years and a lot of zits, and made the ID. The kid’s suspicious eyes in the shadow of the cap’s large brim took on a thoughtful squint: he was doing his own recognizing in return.

  ‘I know you,’ Sean said. ‘You’re Spence Pearce’s kid brother.’

  ‘Yeah, Kieran,’ the kid said. ‘And you’re Sean fucking Harker. Army boy.’ His eyes darted sideways at Mitra, and Sean sensed the uncertainty. ‘He another of your lot?’

  ‘He’s my mate. Ravi, what the fuck have you been doing to upset these guys?’

  ‘Fucker was snooping,’ one of the others said. It sounded like his confidence was coming back, now it looked like no one was losing body parts.

  Inside, Sean felt his guts clench up. Oh. Shit. Outside, Sean put his head on one side and looked sceptical. He had to get this lot on his side before they did the sums in their heads and worked out that ten guys with knives could take on two unarmed ones, however much hand-to-hand stuff the two knew.

  ‘Who, me?’ Mitra said. ‘Oh, golly, no. I did keep trying to tell you.’ He could put on the exaggerated Indian accent if he wanted, and he did so now. ‘I was lost, that is all.’

  ‘You – were – fucking – snooping.’ Kieran spoke with absolute certainty, but he backed away from Sean, just in case. ‘We saw you go down three dead ends, one after the other.’

  Sean and Mitra’s eyes met. Sean could picture it: Mitra just trying to be thorough in covering all the ground with the detector, while suspicious eyes watched. He remembered Dave’s tale about the guy who went down one dead end by accident, and got out of it by pretending to take a piss under the watching eyes of the mums of the Provisional IRA. But three dead ends? No. The cover story was a bust. They would get nowhere by pretending to act innocent.

  Shit. He was going to have to bluff this on the fly.

  ‘Hang on,’ one of the others interrupted. It looked like two random brain cells had just collided in his head as he looked from Sean to Mitra and back. ‘He knows all this unarmed shit’ – he pointed at Sean, then at Mitra – ‘so how come he—’

  There was a blur of movement, and then he was on his front on the ground, arm bent up behind him by Mitra, who also had his boot planted on the kid’s neck. The kid’s face was twisted as he tried not to scream.

  ‘I was trying to do it the nice way,’ Mitra said in his normal voice.

  ‘Let him up, Ravi,’ Sean said. ‘We’re among friends. Right?’ He looked at Kieran. He knew that if strangers came up to the Guyz and acted tough but friendly, then the Guyz would go along with them – at least out of curiosity – for the time being. But the decision had to be theirs. He had to give it to Kieran so that Kieran could be seen to be in charge.

  ‘Friends don’t snoop,’ Kieran spat. But he didn’t give a signal to attack, and he snorted at the kid on the ground. ‘Christ you’re lame, Errol.’

  ‘So maybe we’ve got our own business here,’ Sean said, getting back to the matter in hand.

  Kieran swung back at him. ‘Yeah?’ There was triumph mixed with the caution, now that Sean had as good as admitted … something. ‘Well, hear it from me: you don’t have business nowhere. Not without going through the Killaz.’

  ‘So what happened to the Guyz?’ Sean asked, playing for time, though he could guess the answer.

  The snorts and laughs from the other kids, and the way Kieran’s face twisted, confirmed it.

  ‘The Guyz are history. Total losers. Maybe you missed it in the army.’ Kieran’s eyes burned with fury as he almost spat it out. ‘Only went on a fucking bombing campaign, didn’t they? Can you believe it? Our own people! Well out of order.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sean admitted. ‘I did hear about that.’

  Not even Mitra knew about Sean’s own involvement in the Guyz’ downfall, so there was no way these kids ever would. The two survivors of the bombing campaign, Sean’s ex-Guyz mate Matt Turner and Corporal Josh Heaton, had both had the facts of life made very plain to them before their trials. You want to be out in fifteen, or serve the full thirty? Then you do not mention Sean Harker – not to the cops, not to your briefs, not to your cellmates. Every little helps, and they had kept shtum.

  ‘So what happened to Spence?’ Sean asked.

  Spence was the same age as him. They had hung out and done a few jobs together, but Spence had never been part of the same car-busting fraternity as Sean.

  Immediately it was like the shutters came down on Kieran’s face. ‘Moved out with his girlfriend and kid, didn’t he.’

  Sean filled in the blanks. And he left you here, he thought. No family, no gang – it was like Kieran had been robbed twice. He could sense the bitterness.

  And he could sense a way forward. He felt his guts unclench. Just a tiny bit. He was feeling his way here.

  ‘Looks like you’re doing OK, bro. Respect.’

  ‘Yeah. We are. So what’s this business of yours, soldier boy?’

  Sean only took half a second to make his decision. The Killaz might be a bunch of immature tossers that the Guyz could have eaten for lunch, but they were here and the Guyz weren’t. They could help, or they could be seriously disruptive. There was no in-between.

  He jerked his head away from the gang, beckoning Kieran to follow. Then he ducked his head low, close to Kieran’s. The other lads would still be able to hear them just fine, but he was giving respect to Kieran by treating him as the leader.

  As well as lying to him through his teeth.

  ‘Look, just ’cos I’m a respectable citizen now don’t mean I’m out of the game.’ He rubbed the tips of his fingers with his thumb in the universal gesture for money. ‘Still got my eye on the opportunity.’

  Kieran’s mouth twisted. ‘There’s no opportunities on Littern Mills.’

  ‘Not what I heard.’ Sean looked him square in the eye. ‘Hate to break it to you, mate, but you’re being played.’

  He was falling into the role. Something in the Littern Mills air was working on him. He sensed his thought patterns falling into step with Kieran’s. They were talking the same language.

  Kieran immediately started to bridle, and Sean pressed grimly on.

  ‘Word gets about, bro. Other gangs are storing their hooky gear on Littern Mills. Cunning, right? You use someone else’s space, you’ve got deniability.’

  It had happened once before that he knew of, which was why he could say it so plausibly now. A gang of jewel thieves had been storing their takings on Littern Mills, safely outside their usual territory, to avoid suspicion. Matt and Copper had made sure it never happened again. It was the first serious gang fight Sean had got caught up in.

  ‘The fuck!’ Kieran spat. The idea of foreigners free-loading on the estate obviously incensed him – which had been the idea. ‘There is no fucking way!’

  Sean shrugged. ‘Whatever. We took it seriously enough to come and check it out. Just the two of us. So, yeah, we were snooping.’

  He took a breath. ‘Ravi, show the gents what you’ve got in your right pocket.’

  Mitra threw him a surprised look, but now he couldn’t deny there was anything there. He reluctantly drew out the pick and his collection of rakes, which all dangled together from one ring.

  �
��Shee-yit!’

  The admiring murmurs went out from the lads as they clocked the class-A housebreaking equipment. Mitra snapped his hand closed around them and pushed them quickly back into his pocket before anyone tried to lay hands on them.

  ‘We thought, with the Guyz gone, we’d have sole possession,’ Sean said casually. ‘But of course, with you lot now – well, this is your manor. So, how’s this … You’ve got your ears to the ground. You must have the feel of the place. You must have picked up vibes that made you think, Hold on – but then you just went, Nah – but now you know what I’ve just told you, so you’re thinking, Maybe … That’s the kind of place we’re after. You give us the address, we investigate, anything we find gets split fifty-fifty.’

  Kieran cocked his head. ‘You straight?’

  Sean knew exactly what would give him the cred he needed. ‘You ever hear how I got nicked?’

  Kieran slowly grinned. ‘Yeah. Fucking legend.’ He turned to the others. ‘Spence told me. Sean put himself in harm’s way, let the cops nick him so his mates could escape. Fucking ace.’ He swung back to Sean. ‘OK, you’re on. We’re going to bust these joints together.’

  Which was the last thing Sean wanted.

  He crossed his arms and stared down at the kid. ‘Nice move, Einstein. You any idea how many outfits could be involved? And you’re going to barge in and start a gang war with all of them? Go ahead. Me and Ravi, we’ll just stand aside and pick up the pieces once you’ve been wiped out. Everyone’s a winner except the Killaz, but – meh.’

  Kieran snarled. ‘So how’s your version any fucking better?’

  ‘Because you’re right, the Guyz are history, I’m old news around here, Ravi’s a complete outsider. If we bust anyone’s joint, no one will trace it back to you. Whereas the Killaz go snooping, that’s like sounding a red alert all over town. So, how about it?’

  Kieran’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fifty-fifty?’

  ‘Like I said.’

  ‘Sixty-forty.’

  ‘Fifty-fifty or nothing. Look, this is just one of the leads we have up our sleeve. We have plenty more – you don’t have any. You get fifty per cent or you get zero. No middle ground.’

  And he meant it – a fifty-fifty split for anything hot they found that was non-terrorist related.

  Kieran subsided. He stepped back and regarded Sean, then jerked his thumb at the other Killaz to summon them into a huddle …

  ‘Deal,’ Kieran said a moment later.

  Sean gave a thin smile. He didn’t want it to look like relief, which would immediately put Kieran on alert again.

  But he couldn’t relax just yet. He could keep pressing.

  ‘You know it makes sense,’ he said. ‘Oh yeah, and Ravi here left his stash back at camp.’

  Mitra gave Sean a glare that could have sliced through a Warrior’s hull. He had no stash back at camp. No one Sean knew did. If any serving soldier was found to be using, the army showed no mercy.

  ‘I used to get mine off Zara Mann,’ Sean went on. ‘She still around? Or her mate – whatsername – Emma? Emma Booth.’

  At the briefing, Dave had told them that Zara had previous for possession with intent to supply. So Sean gambled that the question wouldn’t raise eyebrows.

  ‘Maybe.’ Kieran narrowed his eyes again, but he didn’t seem too surprised by the claims of drug dealing. ‘Think they’ve been away. We’ll keep our eyes out for them.’

  Well, his question had been worth a try, Sean thought, even though it hadn’t produced useful int. They already knew that Zara had been away, and since she had only got back yesterday, maybe the Killaz hadn’t yet clocked her return. And even if Emma had been away, that didn’t mean she was Girl X.

  ‘Uh – now we are all such good friends’ – Mitra put up a hand like a kid in class, then pointed it at one of the gang – ‘this gentleman here has taken my phone.’

  A-a-a-nd there was still the possibility that everything could go completely tits up right now. Sean had been about to let himself feel pleased with the outcome.

  Nothing in his expression gave any clue that Mitra had managed to let a teenage wannabe gangster get hold of a piece of equipment that was tuned in to one of MI5’s bomb detectors. Sean simply fixed the lad in question with a glare and snapped his fingers. After a moment Mitra’s phone was dropped into his waiting hand. Sean passed it back to its owner, and kept his arse clenched because of the very real risk that if he didn’t, then he might crap himself out of relief.

  ‘OK,’ he said to Kieran, ‘let’s talk business …’

  Ten minutes later Sean and Mitra and Kieran’s Killaz were going their separate ways, with phone numbers exchanged and a list of possible locations noted down.

  ‘So, that’s Sean and Ravi out of earshot of the natives, reporting in …’ Sean said. He gave a brief description of what had happened, and braced himself. ‘Now standing by for bollocking.’

  ‘O-kay. Roger.’ It was like an explosion of relief in their ears from Dave. Sean wondered if he had been holding his breath for the entire encounter with the Killaz. ‘Bollocking is deferred for now. You got out of that blown cover pretty well – just a shame you got into it in the first place. I have their suggestions listed. Nearest to your position is Fairlight Tower in South Square …’

  ‘Already on it,’ Sean said, rolling his eyes. Shit, he knew the geography.

  ‘Roger, but after that I have a revised route for you …’

  Sean could picture Dave poring over the map of the estate, planning the optimum route between Kieran’s leads that would still give them plenty of time to patrol the rest of Littern Mills, as planned, if they had to.

  ‘Your own hearts-and-minds campaign,’ Mitra said as they walked into the shadow of Fairlight. ‘Shit, you should do this for a living.’

  Neither of them had ever been part of an occupying force in another country, but Sergeant Adams had, and ‘hearts and minds’ was one of his mantras. After securing their position, the first priority of an occupier had to be earning the trust of the locals through straight dealing and positive reinforcement. A happy population was a helpful population. Less inclined to take up arms against you, more inclined to aid you instead.

  Sean was saved from having to think of a witty comeback because his phone buzzed.

  ‘Oh, piss off, Mum …’ he began – just as Mitra’s phone buzzed too.

  Their eyes met.

  Then they casually glanced at their phones, like they were just checking an update from a mate.

  It was another of those instant alert moments, going invisibly from casual civvy to soldier on standby in the blink of an eye.

  ‘You want to tell them?’ Sean said.

  ‘Nah, you’re the golden boy du jour.’

  Sean touched his belt. ‘That’s Sean,’ he said, ‘with a seventy-eight-per-cent nitroaromatic compound in detected sample.’

  In English, within fifty metres of where they stood there was something that could make a very big bang indeed.

  Chapter 18

  Thursday 3 August, 14:30 BST

  ‘You keep yours out,’ Sean said. He palmed his own phone as they headed over to the base of Fairlight, remembering his old Guyz swagger. Two phones out between them would look like they were hunting Pokémon.

  A couple of locals were coming towards them. Sean clocked them with his The fuck you looking at? scowl, and they passed by without comment. Sean let himself feel pleased. Oh yeah. Still got it.

  ‘It’s pleased to see me,’ Mitra murmured, and he gave Sean a shot of the screen. The bar had shot up to almost maximum size: ninety-eight per cent and rising. So they were heading in the right direction. The gate was ahead of them.

  ‘That’s Sean and Ravi needing access code for maintenance passage western end of Fairlight.’

  If there was a weapons factory here, then there would probably be security of some kind. Maybe cameras but, more importantly, the human variety – nasty suspicious bastards, their attention caught by two
guys walking up to the gate and stopping, waiting for the code. Anyone and everyone was a suspect. Someone leaning against a wall checking his own phone. A couple lying on the grass. A window-seat customer nursing a cup of everlasting coffee in the café. So they had to walk up like they already had the number lodged in their brains and going through it was the most natural thing ever.

  ‘Sean and Ravi – zero eight two nine. Ravi investigate, Sean keep watch.’

  Mitra went through the gate without a pause while Sean lounged on a bench under a withered tree, casually scanning his phone and occasionally smiling like he was reading chat from his mates. The bar was at ninety-nine per cent.

  Then Mitra was back, a few metres away, not looking at him. He propped his back against the concrete base of the tower and went through the motions of making a phone call. His voice was clear in Sean’s earpiece.

  ‘That’s Ravi reporting storeroom for third shop down has padlocked door and reading goes off the scale. No other sign of security.’

  Sean stretched, casually looking around. Still no sign of anyone obviously on guard.

  ‘Roger.’ Dave was decisive. ‘Joe is on his way to your location for backup if needed.’

  And so they stayed where they were for the next five minutes – Mitra conducting his phantom conversation, Sean casually texting, and both doing their best to clock any opposition.

  It would have been quite cool, Sean thought, to watch a SWAT raid called in on his old home ground at his report. This time he’d be one of the good guys. See how the Met did it, maybe pick up some useful pointers, or offer his own, depending. But the big guns weren’t going to be called in without eyeball verification.

  ‘That’s Joe entering South Square.’

  Dave was back on the air.

  ‘The storeroom belongs to the key-cutting business. Sean to head down to the other end of the maintenance passage and approach from that end. Code that end is one zero seven four. Enter when Joe is in place. Ravi, once Sean is in, to go and join him from your end. Approach target from both directions at once. You are cleared to pick the lock and gain access. If it’s live, then we can have armed backup here in five minutes.’