by KC McLaren
Regardless of any information Carl had received about the day’s events, Egil knew Carl would not dismiss out of hand his warming. After serving in the army intelligence core Egil had been recruited into MI5. Carl had moved first into the SAS Intelligence Unit serving two years in theatre operations then assigned to The Metropolitan Police SO19 specialist protection unit. And that is why Egil knew the PM was here. Carl, with his specialist training in combat and still a member of the SAS Intelligence Unit, was part of the PM’s 24/7 close security team.
Egil lowered his arm and took up a neutral non-defensive stance and spoke quickly and quietly. “I don’t know why the Prime Minister is here, Carl. But I know one thing, there is what I believe to be a rogue CIA agent, if he is actually CIA, here. In this building.”
Carl looked back at him, Egil saw a growing concern on his face, something he had not seen on Carl’s face in all the time he had known him. Egil knew it was an extreme situation ever to be told that a British Prime Minister was in grave danger, which meant a real threat of a possible assassination attempt.
Chapter 31 | Kidnapped
LOST IN AN INTENSE BRIGHT FLASH OF LIGHT, Jonathan’s body tried to pull away from the depths of a bad nightmare. His ears screamed at him to block out the noise that pierced his head like ice daggers, stabbing, crashing their way into his thoughts. He could barely see around the penthouse, a white acrid cordite smelling smoke hung everywhere. What the hell was smoke doing in the penthouse? Confused and disorientated he realised he had his hands covering his ears, kneeling on the floor. Above the constant high pitch painful ringing he could just make out voices, angry, threatening voices.
Could this day get any worse? One minute his mobile vibrated, next a bright white light blinded him and a deafening ear shattering blast of a noise knocked him to the ground. Puzzled and dizzy, he stood up.
A commanding voice somewhere in the room shouted, “BECKETT, GET DOWN!” As the fuzzy images became clearer, ignoring the shouting, Jonathan took another look around. To his horror it seemed he had just been dumped into the middle of a war-zone.
He looked towards the sound of the voice. There, with gun raised aiming across the room to his left, stood one of the Prime Minister’s security detail. The one Sara had called Pete. Still not comprehending the situation Jonathan traced the line of Pete’s aim noticing two other security detail laying on the ground, not moving. The smoke in the room cleared, the AC system extracting it slowly out. As his vision became clear, Jonathan stumbled backwards, astonished at the scene in front of him.
Two men appeared and stood a few feet away from the open-plan kitchen. They were dressed in serious black, leather coats. Heavily armed and wearing ski masks, they looked like something out of a crazy scene of The Matrix. Jonathan realised enough to know they didn’t have any good intentions in mind. More disturbing, both men held hostages and were using them as shields. One had an arm wrapped tight around his captive throat, the other held a gun pressing hard up against the temple of his hostage. Shaking his head Jonathan had to do a double take. One held the Prime Minister, the other Alan.
The one holding the PM, in a calm and precise manner, spoke. “It seems we have got ourselves into a Mexican stand-off.”
Jonathan, not one to be frightened, felt the nerve endings all over his body burning. He turned back to Pete and demanded, “What the hell is going on?”
With his vision clearing he saw another two of the PM’s security detail standing in front of Pete, to the left and the right of him. One aiming their gun towards the Prime Minister’s captor, the other with his gun pointing further to the right towards Alan’s.
“Please, Mr Beckett,” the PM’s captor injected, “stand exactly where you are. Don’t move. Don’t talk.”
Even though the voice remained calm, Jonathan knew it was not a polite request. As he turned back to the captor, too taken aback to reply, he thought - This can’t be right. What in God’s name is happening today? This is not my life. This is not my world.
Ignoring Jonathan and looking over to the security detail, the captor continued. “It’s Pete is it? May I call you Pete? I presume you are the head of the PM’s security detail.”
Pete, leading with his gun sight, took a defensive step forward. “I want you to put down your weapons and surrender, there is no way out of this…”
Jonathan could hear a slight but distinct hesitation in Pete’s voice. It did not fill him with confidence.
“Tut, tut,” the captor responded, “we both know how this will play out. An embarrassment all round. I didn’t realise Mr Beckett had such distinguished company here. You and your men, back off. We’ll be leaving and it’s your responsibility to ensure no one else comes to further harm.”
Jonathan looked at the captor, something about the voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place from where. His mind just kept on rambling, for goodness sake will someone wake me the hell up.
The PM tried to say something, both hands hanging onto the captor’s arm for dear life. Jonathan couldn’t make out the words.
“Mr Prime Minister, be silent. I’m not here for you, but I’m sure your security detail knows the type of man they are dealing with. One that does not back down till the end. And in my line of business, that is usually terminal,” the captor said. He turned his head towards Jonathan and tightened his grip around the PM’s neck.
Jonathan felt a lump in his throat realising why they were here.
“I repeat, lay down your weapons now,” Pete commanded. “The building is surrounded and you have no chance of going anywhere.”
The captor pressed the barrel of the gun harder to the PM’s head making him wince in pain. “On the contrary, Peter. I have absolutely no doubt we will leave this party very soon. Do you want to be responsible for the killing of a UK Prime Minister, in what? A hundred years or more?” The captor twisted his arm around the PM’s neck and looked down at his watch. “We don’t have much time so I’ll make this obvious and quick. Let me show you something. Walk over to the window, it’s far down, but the night darkness will help you see the fun I have in store.”
“I’m not interested in your games,” Pete replied.
The PM’s captor turned to his associate then back to Pete. “If Pete does not comply, shoot the old man.”
Whilst the smoke in the room cleared, the rancid smell hung around and Jonathan felt useless. Alan was in some distress and had to be held up by the second gunman just to keep him steady. Alan looked as if he was in a semi-conscious state more or less unaware of what was happening. Jonathan’s fear subsided replaced with anger moved forward towards the two gun men.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mr Beckett.” The captor said, gun raised and now aiming at him. Jonathan backed away.
“Pete,” Jonathan said pleading, “they’re here for me. No-one else. Please, do as he asks.”
Pete walked over to the window, his gun still trained on the captors.
The captor looked at his watch again. “Just about now, look down,” he commanded.
Jonathan looked at Pete, obviously he was not sure what he was looking for. Shit, where is Sara. Jonathan looked over to where he last saw her sat, she was no longer in the chair. She was crumpled on the floor between the chair and the coffee table, not moving.
“You need to look down, Pete.” The captor said starting a countdown. “Five… Four… Three… Two…”
Jonathan could feel a rumbling and vibration under his feet, something like an earth quake, no noise though. He looked back towards the window and saw Pete involuntary take a step back.
“What the hell did you do?” Pete said, turning around.
“Just a small example of our resolve. No doubt by now there are armed response officers in the underground car park. I doubt from our little fireworks show few are any longer fit for duty,” he replied. “Now, as I said we will be leaving here. If you wish for me to give you more examples, I’ll be too happy to oblige…”
; Pete moved back into the room and asked, “What do you want us to do?”
“We will take Mr Beckett for a little ride,” the captive replied.
Jonathan thought, bollocks, he knew what he wants and moved towards Sara.
“Mr Beckett, I’ve already told you to stand still and not move. Don’t try my patience,” the captor said.
Jonathan looked at him with a stare of hatred and defiance. “You won’t do anything. You won’t shoot. Remember, it’s me who you want, isn’t it?”
The captor nodded to Jonathan, “Make it quick.”
Jonathan strode over to Sara. She was unconscious, but breathing. He bent down and checked her vitals noticing the blood coming from a gash on the front of her head. Did she head hit her head on the coffee table? Either way she was out cold. He stood up and turned around, “She needs to get to a hospital. And now,” he demanded. “I’m not moving or going anywhere till I know she is safe.”
The captor made a whistling sound and sighed, “You geniuses know all the answers. Reality check, dude,” he said waving his gun in the air. “Me gunman, you do as I say. You’re in no position to make demands, Mr Beckett. We’re running out of time, and so are your friends. This is what will happen. You will come over to where I am. My associate will check on your girlfriend; she looks rather different from earlier today. What a change.”
What was he on about? How did he know her? “I’m not going anywhere with you!” Jonathan spat out.
The captor looked at his associate who arched his gun to the top of Alan’s head.
“OK, OK,” Jonathan said putting his hands up in the air. “We will play it your way, don’t harm him.”
“Wise move,” the captor replied. “Now, the rest of you put your weapons down. Your only concern in this matter is for the PM. Lower your weapons and do exactly as I tell you.”
The two security men standing next to Pete looked at him waiting for orders. Pete nodded and both of them laid their weapons down on the floor.
“Kick the guns behind you.” The captor said then nodded to his associate to release Alan.
The associate half carried half dragged his semi-conscious body over to and onto one of the sofas. Holstering his gun, he removed his combat backpack and took out sets of cable ties. He placed one on Alan’s hands and then threw two over to the security detail. The two guards picked them up and put them on.
“Pete,” the captor said, “make sure they are nice and tight. And both men down on their knees too.”
Pete complied.
The captor released his hold on the PM who stumbled and fell to the floor. Pete holstered his gun and rushed to the aid of the PM. He grabbed him and moved him away.
Jonathan watched as the associate walked over to him, putting his backpack over his shoulders. He checked Sara’s head and vital signs and opened one of her eyelids. “She will be fine, not a serious cut. She must have hit her head when the flash bangs went off. Her breathing is normal, pupils not dilated. Just knocked out,” he told Jonathan.
Flash bangs, Jonathan thought. Not being familiar with such things it didn’t take a genius to work out that’s what caused the mayhem and ear crashing noise. How the heck did the gunmen get all the way up to here though?
The associate moved Jonathan out of the way and picked Sara up off the floor putting her into the chair. He then strode back to his position took hold of his gun, turned around and trained it on the two security detail kneeling on the floor.
Neither of the two hostage takers aimed their guns at Pete.
“It’s an interesting situation,” the captor said, “and I would love to chat more, but it’s time for us to leave. Mr Beckett please don’t underestimate our resolve.” Aiming his gun at Jonathan, with his other hand he gestured for him to walk over. “You will come with us.”
Jonathan, reluctantly, walked over to the captor feeling his anger growing but knew there was little he could do but follow the commands. Whatever was going on, he thought, all events seemed to lead back to ThornScope. That scared him a hell of lot more than being shot.
As he approached he saw movement out of the corner of his eye from within the kitchen area. He realised it was Simon, gun in hand making his way toward the living area.
Jonathan paused in his stride. “So, what do you want with me?” he said trying to deflect attention away from the surprised look on his face.
“Me?” he replied. “It’s nothing personal Beckett, just following my orders. Now stop delaying and get over here.”
Jonathan walked over and the captor turned him around grabbing hold of his hands and placed them behind his back.
“Stand still,” he ordered.
Jonathan could hear the captor holstering his gun then fumbling for something. He felt what he presumed to be a cable tie being put on his hands, only it seemed heavier than plastic. He realised there was little he could do to help Simon.
“Do not move!” Jonathan heard Simon demanding. “I will shoot without hesitation.”
Jonathan could feel the captor behind him tense up. “Whoever that is,” he said, “I suggest you stop whatever it is you think you’re going to do.”
Simon ignored him. “Take two steps backwards from Mr Beckett and put your hands on your head. You on my left, on your knees and lower your gun. Slowly, put the gun on the floor and slide it away. You have three seconds to comply.”
Jonathan felt the captor’s hand’s on his wrist and heard a faint sound of a click. He let go of Jonathan’s hands and he could feel now something other than the cable tie, something heavier.
The captor backed away. “Do as our friend says,” he told his associate.
Jonathan, staring straight forward, saw Pete reach for his gun, bringing it up he aimed it towards the associate who was now on his knees. Thank goodness, this will soon be over, he thought. But his over calculating mind told him otherwise, he had missed a piece of the jigsaw puzzle. Something didn’t feel right, out of place.
The captor spoke again. “I’m going to take a step to my right, there is something you need to see.”
“All I need to see are your hands reaching for thin air, mate.” Simon replied, with the sound of his gun being cocked clearly audible.
The captor and associate raised their hands putting them on their heads. “Just need you to know one thing. I’ve placed on Beckett’s wrist a small explosion charge that will detonate in less than five minutes,” the captor said.
Simon replied, “Remove it now, there is no escape.”
“There’s no point to your threats,” the captor said, “It’s a small directional charge, it will go off regardless of what you do. The charge which is placed at the bottom of Beckett’s back, will blast his spinal column in half.”
For goodness sake, beam me the hell up Scotty, will ya! So much for not wanting me dead then, Jonathan thought. This was getting just too surreal to be true, did he take the blue or red pill this morning? Maybe both.
The sound of a gun shot rang out, making Jonathan flinch bringing him back into the reality of the situation. Had he been shot? He turned to his left and felt a warm thick wet splatter on his face. The head of the associate exploded, the body crumpled to the floor.
“You will remove the charge, or the next bullet will be in your head,” Simon demanded.
Hands tied or not, Jonathan turned around and faced the captor ready to react. They stared at each. The captor didn’t move an inch, not a flinch. Jonathan would swear he saw smile behind the face mask. Then, taking him by surprise, he winked at Jonathan. What the hell was that for?
The captor, ignored Jonathan and shifted his gaze and looked over at Pete.
PETE! The missing jigsaw piece. Jonathan realised what was out of place. Pete had not removed his gun or put cable ties on. The captor nodded his head once.
Jonathan shouted out a warning, “Simon! GET DOWN…”
Too late, another gunshot exploded into the air. In the split second the bullet travelled, Jonathan watched as Si
mon tried desperately to shift his gun sight toward Pete. He didn’t stand a chance. The bullet hit him square in the face knocking him backwards, his hands flailing wild into the air forcing his body to release the grip on the gun. It fell to the ground with an almighty clatter as Simon’s body smashed into the wall behind with blood and brain matter spattering against it.
Jonathan looked on in total shock watching the body grotesquely bang up against the wall, hanging there as if suspended in both time and death. Simon’s eyes, wide open, stared back at Jonathan, his body slid down the wall leaving a bright red mattered bloody trail as it fell onto the floor.
Jonathan, head down, no longer cared for his own safety. He charged towards the captor and with all the strength he could muster smashed into his body. But the captor counter acted and pulled Jonathan into his own body. Twisting, and using Jonathan’s own momentum, he threw him around and to the left. Jonathan felt like he had just run into truck, all the wind going out of his sails as he landed hard on the floor.
“Not the best of moves with plastic explosives attached to you,” the captor said, eyes smiling he looked down at Jonathan.
He tried to struggle and even though the captor was much smaller in height, he stood no chance. The captor grabbed his shoulders, turned Jonathan over with ease and laid him with blunt force face down with the captor’s knee pressed into his back.
Another two shots rang out in quick succession. Who else? Jonathan closed his eyes. Resigned to the pitiful situation, he knew it was pointless to struggle any further.
Chapter 32 | PM Danger
“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, EGIL! Don’t you think we would have had insight if there was any danger to the PM? Shit man! We have the best security protection in the world, and you of all people should know that. You’re wrong, Egil. Whatever you have or think you have, you’ve got it wrong this time.”
