by KC McLaren
“I agree,” Carl replied, “keep your wits about you everyone. Egil, you know the drill. As we exit that door follow me to the right, the rest of the team will spread out left, then move to the study.”
“Roger that,” Egil replied.
They moved along the corridor quickly Egil following Carl, the rest of his team behind him. Egil thought about what Sara had said, it wasn’t her first rodeo, nor was it his either.
The stairs were steep and only allowed single file. Cautiously, Carl opened the door. Egil went to the right with Carl. The rest of the team veered off left but all moved towards the double fronted oak doors. Again, no-one around, no signs of any security in operation. This can’t be right, Egil thought. Where the hell is everyone?
“Jason,” Carl said, “I’m opening the study doors, then what?”
“To the opposite wall, far left, there should be another door,” Jason replied. “That will lead into a small corridor then into a foyer type room. From what I can see on the screen, there is a lift there. Give me a few seconds the screen us updating. I’ll have more info by the time you get to those doors…”
“Roger that, still no sign of any hostiles,” Carl replied.
Carl entered the room, again his team fanned out in formation to the right and left then converged on to the target door.
Carl moved his “Breaching door three, Jason, update please…”, Carl said moving his hand to the door the handle.
“Nothing yet…”
“OK, going in…” Carl said placing his hand on the door handle and turning it.
“Wait, wait. Delay. Stay where you are,” Jason shouted. “The screen has updated. Shit…”
“What is it, Jason?” Egil said.
“Sorry,” Jason replied, “the lift. It must go down two, three hundred feet. There is some sort of facility down there, it must be the size of a football pitch. How did we not know about it, what the hell is it?”
“Jason, can we proceed? Are there any threats, hostiles?” Carl asked impatiently.
“Yes, yes. I have thermal available. How? I have no idea. One heat signature. No other signs of anything else. But be careful, this is not my software.” Jason replied.
“Roger that. Opening the door now. Proceeding with caution,” Carl replied.
“We’ve got to get down there faster, Carl. That could be Jonathan Beckett…”
“I know, Egil. But regardless, we need to proceed as per our protocols.”
Egil watched as Carl slowly opened the door. They all followed through into the corridor and made their way towards the end coming up to the lift. The doors opened.
Carl and his team automatically raised their guns aiming directly at the lift. The lift was empty.
“Did you just do that, Jason?” Egil asked.
“Not me,” Jason replied.
“This is far too easy,” Carl said. “Could be a trap we’re walking into.”
Egil moved past Carl’s team and into the lift.
“What are you doing, Egil?” Carl demanded.
Egil had enough of this slow play. He felt the frustration well up inside him. If there was going to be any action, it would be where Jonathan Beckett is. Whilst not wishing to put everyone into any unnecessary danger, this was going far too slowly.
“We don’t have time to mess around, Carl. There’s enough room in this lift for all of us. Get moving, whatever is down there we’ll hit face on. I want to be at Beckett’s position in the next five minutes, got it?” Egil said.
“But Egil, we have to…” Carl replied.
“That’s an order, Carl. Move out.” Egil commanded.
“Yes, boss. Everyone into the lift. You heard the man, get moving.”
Chapter 48 | The Assault
THEY RODE DOWN the lift in silence with everyone checking their equipment. If the shit was going to hit the fan Egil hoped the hell none of these guys get killed. How the hell could our own intelligence people not know about this place? Or did they? Strickland must have some high-level contacts in the government, not least people with deep pockets. The doors of the lift opened, they moved out.
“Jason, you still getting that heat signature?” Egil said.
“Yep, through those doors in front of us. They are also open. How convenient don’t you think?” Jason replied.
Egil ignored Jason’s question. “Carl, two of your men come with me. Sara you too. We’ll move to where this heat signature is. Jason, I want you to stop in this area. Monitor from here and guide us. Carl you and the rest of your team do a sweep in the room and cover us.”
“I don’t think there is anyone else in that room. And Egil, it’s not really a room. It must be the size of a football pitch,” Jason said.
“I’m not going to rely on everything you’re seeing on that screen, Jason,” Egil said. “We never saw a damn thing on the CCTV cameras at the penthouse and look what happened there.”
“Right ladies, you have your orders,” Carl said. “You two with Egil, you two follow me. Once in, move and sweep left then we will come back around to where Egil is.”
The foyer area was large, roomy, clinical and white. Carl and his two men were already through the doors disappearing to the left.
Egil approached with the other two of Carl’s men slightly behind, their Heckler & Koch MP5s at the ready. Sara completed their team backing up the rear. The complex was eerily silent like a ghost town. The lights were dimmed and hazy. Egil could hear a slight humming sound coming from above. Cooling system? He thought.
“Jason, you there?” Egil said.
“Yes, Egil. I can see your heat signature along with the others. No other movement. About fifty yards to your right that’s where the other signature is coming from. Looks like to be some sort of office or control room. Can you see it?”
“Yes, I can see lights up ahead. I’ll take that as the control room. It’s darker in the main area here, maybe emergency lighting. This place seems to be housing a bunch of computer servers. Can you get access to anything?” Egil replied.
“Nope. Whatever is in there, it’s powered down. I’m not getting any signals worth of note. Nothing at all. Be careful, Egil. This is not something I was expecting. I don’t know how the hell we are getting a signal down here either because I can’t see where that is coming from either.”
“Don’t worry, I think I know. Just keep on track and keep monitoring,” Egil replied.
Not had anything from ThornScope still, but so far so good, another ten yards, Egil thought. Just get in, get Beckett and get the hell out of here. He looked around. All these computer servers. What the hell is this place? Shit, if Strickland has access to something like this God only knows what plans he has.
“We need to clear that control room first, Egil,” said one of the men as both past him and came to the stairs.
Egil was reluctant but nodded his head. After all, these guys had a lot more experience than he had and they were faster.
Sara, bringing up the rear, faced away from them covering their retreat. She knelt down in a defensive position scanning around.
Whilst Egil raced up the stairs the two men in front had already reached the top. They didn’t hang around and as Egil reached the top, they were already ready to enter the control room door.
“Breaching now,” said one of them.
They were definitely not waiting for him, Egil thought. He saw the door open and the two men disappeared in side. He followed them through.
“Clear,” said one of the men. “We have one man down.”
Egil tried to take in the scene but before he could Sara raced past him heading for the crumpled heap of the man on the floor.
He watched as she checked his vital signs. She looked back at Egil.
“It’s Jonathan Beckett, he’s breathing,” she said. She took out a pencil light and opened Jonathan’s eyes flashing the light across each one.
“Carl, report in. All OK out there?” Egil asked.
“Copy that,” Carl
replied, “we are circulating back round to your position.”
“Make it quick, Carl. Sara, what’s Beckett’s state?”
“His breathing is shallow but steady. His pupils are not responding and dilated. Out cold with a nasty gash on his head. The gash is not bleeding but lots of swelling. We need to get him out of here now.”
Egil looked on as Sara got a medical kit out of her back pack and took out a bandage and a neck brace. She wrapped the bandage quickly around Beckett’s head then put on the brace.
“Any other injuries, Sara.”
“No. Nothing else. If we don’t get him to hospital, I have no idea how long he will last like this. He could be bleeding internally causing swelling to his brain.”
Shit, Egil thought. Beckett is not exactly a small guy. He must weigh a tonne, how the hell are we going to get him out of here?
Answering his thoughts one of the men replied, “We can take turns in carrying him. He’s a big chap, but we will manage.”
“Will he be ok to be moved, Sara?” Egil asked.
“We have no choice, Egil. But I’m worried, very worried.”
“Right then, let’s get moving. Carl, you copy that?” He asked.
“Yep, copy that.”
“Don’t come to the control room, make your way back to the exit doors.” Egil said.
“On our way.” Carl replied.
“Jason, patch through to the helicopter. Tell him to lift off and get as close as he can to the outside door we entered by.”
“Already in the air, Egil.” Jason replied.
Jason may be a funny bugger at times, but I couldn’t do without him, Egil thought.
“Carl, how long before you get to those exit doors?” Egil asked.
“We’ll be there in…”
The comms went dead accompanied by a huge blast. Egil turned looking out of the control window. The place lit up with flash bangs going off all around. The sound of gun fire piercing through. “Carl, what the hell is going on…”
“Team leader down. I repeat team leader is down,” came the reply. “We are under attack and pinned. Small arms fire from the back, left and right. I repeat, team leader is down.”
Egil turned to the two men with him. “Move now, get Beckett up and out of here, don’t wait for us. Get moving!”
He didn’t have to say it twice. The first man took off his back pack removing most of his equipment. Handing his Heckler & Koch to Sara he said. “Cover my back, I can’t carry this and him.”
The other team member helped lift Beckett up onto his shoulders and both moved quickly out of the room with Sara following.
Egil followed shouting over the comms trying to make himself heard over the mayhem. “Jason, what’s going on, can you see anything on that damn screen of yours?”
“Can’t see a damn thing apart from white out. I’m coming in,” Jason replied.
“Don’t come in. Remain in position. Your only priority is to get Beckett out. And that’s an order. Can you give me the last position of Carl’s team?” Egil shouted.
“OK, OK. I’ll wait by the doors. Carl’s team were cutting across right of your position coming forward towards the middle of the complex. Then all hell let loose,” Jason replied.
“I’m moving towards them now,” Egil said. “I’m not taking any fire on my position. Beckett and Sara will be with you within a minute. Don’t wait for me, get Beckett on that lift and out of here.”
“OK, Egil. They’re approaching now. Best of luck old pal. Don’t do anything fucking stupid. I’m far too used to clearing up your mess, what else would I do if you bugger this up?” Jason said.
“One thing is for sure. Your mother will be washing your mouth out with soap next time I see her. The language, I’m ashamed. Now get the fuck out of here that’s an order…” Egil replied. “Carl’s team. You still here?” Egil continued.
“Yes, pinned down. We can’t see anyone. We’re behind a rack of servers that’s giving us some sort of cover,” came the reply.
“Can you get to Carl?” Egil asked.
“Negative on that. He’s caught in between the racks of servers. He’s not moving. We’re laying down firing cover but our position is being bombarded.”
“Is he alive?” Egil replied.
“Can’t confirm. He was behind us when the firing started.”
They must know I am here, Egil thought. Why no firing on my position? He braced himself against a railing. It surrounded what he believed another bank of servers. There was some sort of main server, or computer in the middle. Stacked high. He had seen servers and computers before, but nothing like this configuration. Sliding under the railings he got close and placed his hand on the server. It was slightly warm to the touch. He stood up and taking a gamble cautiously moved around it expecting a bombardment of gun fire. Nothing.
“When exactly did you guys get fired upon?” He asked.
“The moment you confirmed you had Beckett,” came the reply.
Bloody hell, there is no-one in this place but us, Egil thought. “Stop returning fire. I repeat, cease firing,” he shouted over the comms.
He didn’t know why or how, but realised when they had entered the control room they had set off some sort of automated response. A booby trap? That’s why the flash bangs went off all over the place, but not where he was and not around this server. No server like this would be warm to the touch, it’s not on, shut down. Returning fire only caused a harder response. Looking up at the server he said out loud, “It’s all fucking automated to protect you.”
The complex became deadly silent.
Egil slid back under the railings and crouching moved slowly towards Carl’s last position. It didn’t take long to reach and he could see Carl face down between two server banks. He holstered his firearm and moved in closer. “Get Carl, drag him back to your position,” he said over the comms.
From his own position he could just make out one of Carl’s men crawling towards him grabbing hold of his shoulders dragging backwards. Egil knew he had to ask but hesitated not wanting to hear the reply.
“Is he alive, have you checked his vitals?”
The silence over the comms was deafening.
“Come in, respond. Is Carl alive?” Egil repeated.
The comms crackled to life.
“Yes, I’m alive. You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” Carl croaked.
Egil breathed a loud sigh of relief, “Welcome back old friend.” Egil replied.
“Went nowhere,” Carl said, “just a little nap. My back pack is shot up to pieces, but thank God for Kevlar. I’m fine, just winded. What did I miss? Is Beckett safe?”
“You missed nothing,” Egil said, “Beckett is out of here and safe. Let’s get you and your team out. I think we have a long walk in front of us. There’s no-one in this building, it’s deserted. I’ll explain when we get to top ground. Just drift towards me and keep your weapons pointed down and cold.”
Chapter 49 | Wake Up
IMMEDIATELY REGRETTING OPENING his eyes, Jonathan felt a sharp pain piercing his skull. He couldn’t make sense of his surroundings, bright white light filled the space. Was that a ceiling he was looking up at? Bringing his hands up to his eyes he tried to rub clear the blur from his vision. He felt some a presence of sorts close by. Removing his hands, he could just make out the edges of a shadowy silhouette and realised someone was standing over him.
“Where the hell am I?” he tried to say, but the words came out mumbled.
“Welcome back, Mr Beckett. Here, let me help,” a voice said.
Whoever was talking helped him to raise his head and shoulders off the bed into a sitting position. He was sure the voice was familiar, but could not quite place it. A man’s voice. Wait a minute, he thought, I'm in bed? What the hell was he doing in bed?
The helper gave him some water, telling him to sip it slowly. The coolness of the liquid was comforting helping to gather his thoughts. He tried to speak again.
“W
here am I?” he asked. This time the words were clear enough.
“All in good time, Mr Beckett, all in good time. You've had a nasty knock to your head,” the voice said.
The blurriness subsided but he could still not quite make out the person in front of him. He thought about the voice again and was sure he recognised it. He was hit on the head. More than once. Things came back to him.
“You've been in and out of unconsciousness for three days, Mr Beckett. You may also have concussion. The main thing is that you’re safe now.”
Safe? Safe from what? Hit on the head by who, by what? Jonathan wondered, but the memory refused to surface. “Was I in a coma?” he asked.
“Nope, heavily sedated. The knock on the head gave you some swelling on the brain. It’s gone down now. I'm told there will be no lingering effects. Obviously, a very hard skull,” replied the voice. “Do you remember anything?”
It hurt too much to think. Who was this person? The voice was just out of reach in his mind. He closed his eyes trying to force the pain away from his brain. Hit on the head? The voice? Where was he at the time? Oxford Street? Yes, he had been to Oxford Street, but not where he was attacked. The voice, he remembered the voice. David Strickland? No. Damn, it was Strickland that hit him. He had to stop Strickland from getting ThornScope. The voice though? Shit, MI5.
“You're the MI5 officer from yesterday, what do you want?” he said abruptly.
“Not from yesterday Mr Beckett, nearly four days ago. There has a lot happened since then. I'm not here to harm you nor has it ever been my intention to,” the voice replied.
There were so many questions surfacing in his brain. How did he get here? What's happened with Strickland? Is my...
“My sister. My sister is in grave danger...” Jonathan said out loud. Three days had past. God, please not her. “My sister,” he repeated, “where is she, is she ok?” He braced himself for the answer.
“Mr Beckett, thanks to the text messages I received, your sister is safe. She is none the wiser, the threat was taken out,” Egil said.
