Scion

by Murray Mcdonald

  Grabbing the standard MP5 issue weapons from the DPG officers, the three quickly but carefully made their way towards Number Ten. Two of the assassins stood guard, one holding an MP5, the other checking the skies with a stinger missile. The second Scott spotted the stinger, he knew the PM had not betrayed him. Obviously, someone had wanted to ensure the secret stayed exactly that. Scott added George Cunningham to his hit list. It was going to be a busy night.

  Kirk and Kyle were slightly behind Scott and with no intention of waiting for them, Scott rolled out into the road, catching the attention of both assassins. He dropped the assassin carrying the MP5 first and smiled as he watched the second try to shoot him with the stinger. He waited longer than necessary as he let the assassin think he might just make it. Kirk, however, wasn’t in on the joke and shot the stinger carrier with a three round burst to the head.

  Scott signalled for Kyle to wait at the door and for Kirk to follow him inside. Once beyond the rubble of the front door, the house seemed eerily quiet despite the ongoing explosions overhead. Scott pointed for Kirk to take the stairs while he rushed towards the back of the house. An elevator had been installed recently which Scott hoped was sitting on the ground floor and would give him a chance to jump ahead of the assassins. As he opened the door, the door to the elevator was just closing. It seemed Scott wasn’t the only person who knew about it. Just as the doors were about to close, Scott managed to force the butt of the MP5 into the gap. The doors immediately opened again. With his gun pointing the wrong way, Scott dived out of the way as a volley of bullets flew out of the small box. Convinced he had shot him and seeing Scott’s gun lying safely on the ground, the assassin advanced to finish the job.

  Scott didn’t hesitate. He needed to get to the PM. He spun and delivered a bone crunching punch to the throat of the assassin, the speed and power destroying the man’s larynx and voice box before separating his spinal column cleanly from the base of his neck. His body dropped lifelessly to the ground. Scott pressed the button for the top floor.

  The elevator travelled quickly but to Scott it felt like a lifetime. On reaching the top, the door opened to reveal the main door to the PM’s apartment. It was shut. A good sign that the assassins had not yet made it to the top. Scott had thought as much. There were at least ten security stations within the house and as many men. They’d have to work their way through each of them if they wanted to make sure they got back out alive.

  In between the fireworks, Scott could just make out the noises of small gun fire. As soon as it started, it stopped. The security men’s pistols were being silenced by the assassins MP5s. Scott ran across to the door and found it locked. He banged on the door and prayed that the PM would hear him over the fireworks. Eventually, the door opened and a very frazzled and dazed PM stood before him. Scott pushed him down the corridor and told him to wait in the room at the end of the corridor before making his way back towards the staircase that would bring the assassins to the PM.

  Scott stood to the side of the staircase, pushing himself as tight as he could against the wall and waited. The explosions from the fireworks continued to rock the building but Scott could feel the movement on the staircase. He was tuning out the explosion frequency and focusing on the footsteps edging towards him. With one step to go, he moved. Squatting and spinning, he threw his right leg out and almost removed the head of the first assassin with an upward kick that sent the man’s body crashing into his colleague. The trigger of the second assassins gun was forced down and the first assassin’s already lifeless body filled with bullets. Scott’s move, however, wasn’t finished. Following the momentum of the kick, he had literally leapt over the top of the two men and landing on the step to the rear of the second, crashed the point of his elbow into the man’s temple sending him crashing to the floor and instantly stopping the flow of bullets. The man would be a vegetable for the rest of his life.

  As the bullets stopped, Kirk appeared. All assassins it seemed were accounted for. Scott and Kirk walked back up the stairs and entered the PM’s apartment and joined him in his bedroom.

  ***

  As the explosions overhead had reverberated around the small bell tower, she had been caught in a dilemma. Muzzle flashes had been clearly visible within Number 10 and with no sign of the PM, she had considered whether she should abandon the post and get to Number 10 herself. However, she also knew that by the time she got there, it would all be over. The only viable option was to remain where she was and hope the PM would come into view.

  She hadn’t had to wait long. Not long after the shooting had started, the PM had run into his bedroom, extinguished the light and jumped behind his bed. She switched to night vision scope but still couldn’t see him. However, she knew where he was. With the PM covered, she was comfortable she had made he right decision. No matter what happened, she had him in her sights.

  The muzzle flashes continued to burst out of the windows and were now on the third floor, just one floor below the PM who scurried out of his room, her eye momentarily distracted by the flashes below. However, less than twenty seconds later, he was back and diving for cover behind the bed again. As the muzzle flashes stopped, she began to panic. There was only so much she could do. The glass between her and the PM was bullet proof and ideally, she’d have a .50 calibre rifle to ensure penetration. However, she had a slightly smaller calibre but hopefully just as effective. The L115A1 was a slightly modified version of the L96 Accuracy International sniper rifle and used an 8.59mm cartridge. The armour piercing rounds she had selected would be able to penetrate the glass and still have enough energy left to go straight through the bed.

  With the muzzle flashes having ceased from below and the PM refusing to budge, she withdrew her blackberry device and selecting a number hit dial. She just hoped that he would hear the phone ring over the explosions from the seemingly endless firework display. Putting the blackberry on loudspeaker, she could just about hear the ring tone as she waited. The green glow began to appear in her scope and grow as the Prime Minister got up and walked to his phone on his bedside cabinet.

  “Hello?” he asked tentatively.

  “Mr Prime Minister. Don’t move. I have you covered with a sniper rifle…”

  The door burst open and Kirk and Scott flew in.

  “Friend or foes!” she demanded as the two green figures shot into her view, as the Prime Minister turned to see who they were, a red dot appeared in the centre of Scott’s head.

  The Prime Minister didn’t know what to say. If he said friend and she was with them, Scott would die and if he said foe to protect Scott and she wasn’t with them, he’d die. The permutations of the situation were too much to be answered in a split second and the words of his mother from childhood popped into his head, ‘now Andrew you must always tell the truth, bad things happen to people who lie.’

  “Friend,” he shouted into the phone.

  Both Scott and Kirk looked at him in confusion as the panicking PM screamed ‘Friend’ seemingly randomly into the phone.

  The PM closed his eyes as he shouted and waited for the shot to ring out but it never did, he opened his eyes and the red dot had disappeared.

  “Sir, who’s on the phone?” asked Scott, concerned by the Prime Minister’s bizarre behaviour.

  “A woman with a sniper rifle pointing at me,” he answered.

  “Not at you, covering you,” she corrected over the phone.

  “Sorry, covering me,” he repeated for them.

  Scott and Kirk smiled as they realised what was happening,

  “Sir, will you tell Jasmin, to get her arse out of the Life Guards’ tower and get it back over here,” asked Scott.

  As Jasmin made her towards them, Scott quickly explained.

  “I sent a signal out on a communication channel suggesting a meet here tonight at 23.00. My island has been bombed and everybody killed. Jasmin has been on at us for some time that your security is lax. She promised the next time she was here, she could take you out and ge
t away with it without any hassle. It seems she proved her point and thank God she’s on our side.”

  The Prime Minister looked out his window and across to Life Guards Parade, the home of the Queen’s ceremonial guards. The bell tower was clearly visible atop their barracks.

  “Have I met Jasmin?” asked the Prime Minister, knowing he hadn’t. In fact, he’d never met a female K Squad member.

  “I don’t believe so, Sir. She’s relatively new, only been on the team for a few months. Joined us from MI6. We’ve needed a woman for a while but never had anyone with the skills until Jasmin came along. Exceptional shot Sir. ”

  Kyle rushed into the room. “We’re clear, the cavalry’s arrived,” he announced. “The building’s surrounded.”

  “OK, before I get swept out of here, who did this?” asked the PM angrily.

  “I believe the same men who destroyed my island and I believe the Defence Secretary is working with them. They had to know where I was going before I got there to plan the bombing and I don’t believe you told them.”

  The Prime Minister was a very intelligent man and didn’t need to be convinced further. It all made sense.

  “The little fuck. I’ll get him picked up straight away!” the PM turned to the phone.

  “No Sir, we’ll deal with him.” Scott placed his hand on the PM’s arm stopping him.

  “I can’t sanction him, it’s not possible,” protested the PM.

  “Nor needed. This is personal,” replied Scott.

  Chapter 69

  They’d moved three times in the last eight hours but still they didn’t feel safe. Streets that had not seen a police cruiser for years were littered with them. Crime in Anacostia for the first time in fifty years was down to almost nothing. If you so much as looked the wrong way, a cop was by your side and harassing you. The crackdown had been announced just a few hours earlier. The Chief of Police had called an unscheduled press conference and announced his plans. He had had enough of the crime ridden Anacostia. All leave was cancelled and the police would be taking the streets back with immediate effect.

  His announcement was met with stunned silence and then a round of applause. For a long time people had been asking for this to happen but there was never the money, resource or whatever other excuse they could come up with. Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, every objection had been waved and a stream of police cruisers and riot teams entered the area; a mere ten minutes after the Chief’s announcement, unheard of.

  Questions rained down thereafter. Where were the funds coming from? What other services were going to be cut? Anger started to build as the reporters began to consider the implications of a huge resource being spent on those who contributed least. Were the hard working tax payers going to suffer because of the idle and lazy scum that inhabited the worst areas of Anacostia? As the questions flooded in, the Chief raised his hands to silence the mob. He had one more announcement to make.

  “I received a call earlier today from presidential candidate Sam Baker. Mr Baker had recently driven through Anacostia and had been shocked by the deprivation just a stone’s throw from the Whitehouse. He had asked what he could do to help and I told him it’s nothing money can’t fix. Mr Baker phoned me back an hour later. His fund raising dinner was an enormous success and he felt it was wrong, with everything that was going on, to just flush the money down the advertisers’ toilet. He got into politics to do the right thing. Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Baker is funding the additional resource, straight from his campaign fund. No services will suffer in Washington as a result of this clean up, none!”

  The press went wild, rushing to the phones and news companies jumped to live feeds, interrupting news stories to break the news. Sam Baker was cleaning up Washington and he wasn’t even elected yet.

  Ernst was delighted, not only had they secured maximum police effort in helping find Ramirez but the publicity Sam would get from funding the operation would be ten fold what he would have achieved on a few shitty adverts that would have cost the same. Baker’s call to the Chief had been carefully planned by Ernst. Calling just before he arrived and then just after he left with the offer to fund a high profile crackdown. Of course that was only part of what had swung it for the Chief, the million dollar bonus for finding Ramirez had been the clincher.

  ***

  After watching the Chief’s press conference, Vic knew they were dead. It wasn’t if but when they found them. Sam Baker was letting them know personally how much Ramirez being caught meant to him. Vic Garcia looked at the three bodyguards, five was a big number to hide. He had been hunted many times before and had always made it but this time the stakes were much higher than a rival gang. The Ramirez family had given Vic a home when no one else would touch him and the dying wish of Eduardo was that he would protect his nephew. Vic was a man of honour and would die defending the young man but to do that he’d have to take whatever action was necessary. He turned to the bodyguards and told them to wait there. Vic got up and taking the now reclothed Eduardo by the shoulder led him out of the room. Vic closed the door and the two left their third hideaway behind. Five had become two, which had just made Mr Baker’s job all the harder.

  Part Five

  Chapter 70

  The news of the island’s devastation was not well received by Jasmin. However, as with everyone else, the grief was soon replaced with a burning anger and a thirst for revenge. The information that there were a number of targets somewhat appeased her; at least she’d get the opportunity to claim one for herself.

  As Scott laid out the plan for Russell and Cunningham in a basement room of Number Ten, his phone rang. It was 00.30.

  “Scott?” asked Ashley.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank God you’re OK,” said Ashley, relieved to hear his voice. “I’ve just seen the news about the attack, I can’t believe they tried to kill the Prime Minister.”

  Scott could see the three sets of eyes watching him quizzically, all had heard the female voice and it hadn’t taken long for Kyle and Kirk to put two and two together and come up with five.

  “Is that the really hot bird we pulled off the plane?” asked Kyle.

  Scott nodded and began to take on a slightly rosier complexion.

  “I’m fine,” Scott found it difficult to concentrate as his team mates described Ashley to Jasmin right in front of him.

  “Can you not talk?” Ashley sensed something was wrong.

  “Not really, can I call you back?”

  “Yes but just one thing, I’ve tried everything, I can’t get any link between Ramirez and Transcon.”

  “OK, I’ll call you back.” Scott hung up and stared angrily at the other three.

  “Have we forgotten why we’re here?” he snapped.

  Kirk turned to Kyle and Jasmin and whispered loudly. “Definitely loved up!” all three smiled and apologised. The humour break was over and it was back to business.

  “Kirk, Kyle, you stake out Russell’s place while we take care of Cunningham.”

  ***

  Kirk and Kyle surveyed the mansion and its security as they arrived at the Regent’s Park home of Charles Russell. He obviously took his security seriously. The men patrolling the grounds were exceptionally well trained and although looked unarmed, to the trained eye the way they walked and the clothing they wore suggested they carried sidearms. Two men manned the front gate while another four patrolled the grounds and that didn’t include any that may be watching the multitude of security cameras which seemed to cover every square inch of the property.

  “Well?” asked Kirk as they met up again after their scouting.

  “Piece of cake!” replied Kyle.

  ***

  In contrast, the home of George Cunningham Secretary of state for Defence, one of the UK Government’s more senior posts lay relatively unprotected. With a list of enemies that included the world’s more radical and high profile terrorist groups, Cunningham appeared to have no more than a high profile police car parked acros
s the street from his home in very exclusive Belgravia. Scott shook his head, surely a home worth five million dollars would have rung a few alarm bells within the House Select Committee for Standards and Privileges, the body responsible for ensuring all members of parliament declared their financial interests.

  Scott and Jasmin didn’t bother worrying about the guards out front and simply entered the house from the unprotected rear. Jasmin made light work of the security sensors while Scott picked the lock. Within seconds, they were in the house and creeping silently through the darkened rooms in search of Cunningham. A phone ringing shattered the silence. Scott checked his watch, 03.00. A light came on, on the floor above them and was followed by heavy footsteps rushing across the floor and then down towards them. Scott had just stepped out of the study and assumed that’s where the heavy feet were heading. He hid in the shadows and signalled for Jasmin to step back into the lounge.

  Cunningham, as Scott predicted, rushed past and grabbed the ringing phone in the study. It had taken all Scott’s powers of restraint to stop himself from snapping the little fucker’s neck there and then. Scott pressed his ear to the door.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened!” he protested.

  After a short silence.

  “I can’t, he’s not accepting my calls.”

  Short silence.

  “No, he can’t have guessed I was involved. He’s probably asleep that’s all.”