With the ground and first floors cleared, only the second floor remained. Three flashbangs were tossed up into the hallway before another three a few seconds later. Only then did they advance. Scott predicted the guys closest to Russell would be the best and would be ready for Flashbangs but they wouldn’t be ready for a second flashbang. Just when they were most alert after the first bang they’d hit them with another. It worked. The two men guarding the stairs took the full brunt of the second flash and were dropped like stones as Scott and Kyle charged up the stairs.
“Russell, come out, you piece of shit!” he screamed. “I’ll spare the rest of your guards if you’ve got the balls to come out.”
Much to his surprise, the door opened and an unarmed man appeared in the hallway.
“I’m Russell,” said the man as he walked out his hands held high.
Scott stopped himself laughing. Russell was a businessman. This guy looked like action man, only a little older, even down to the square-top haircut. He obviously fancied himself as a fighter and probably had a knife or small handgun tucked into the belt of his trousers. Scott lowered the weapon. If they wanted to play he’d play. The sirens were getting closer but it wouldn’t take long.
“OK,” smiled Scott, handing his gun and sidearm to Kyle.
As Scott had expected, Action Man pulled a knife which immediately had Kyle raising his gun. Scott motioned for him to back off, which he did.
Action man lunged exactly as Scott had expected,. He dodged the move and threw a short but powerful punch against the man’s impossibly square chin. Scott could see him buckle and he hadn’t even hit him hard. Typical hard man with glass jaw. The man swivelled quickly and tried to catch Scott with his elbow but Scott had seen it coming and ducking under the elbow avoided the blow.
As the sirens grew even closer, Scott realised play time was over. With the man’s head above him, he shot the palm of his hand up and under the bottom of the man’s nose. The force of the blow sent thousands of slithers of bone cartilage into the man’s brain shredding it as it went. The man’s body slumped to the floor as did the morale of Russell’s remaining guards who unceremoniously pushed the kicking and screaming Russell into the hallway to meet his killers. They quickly shut the door and prayed the offer of sacrifice would appease the attackers.
“Charles Russell?” asked Scott calmly of the man clawing at the door to the room he had just been thrown out of.
Russell didn’t answer, his mind focussed on the safety behind the door.
“Charles Russell?” asked Scott again more loudly.
Russell realised the door wasn’t opening and turned round.
“Whatever you want, however much you want, you can have it!”
“It’s mine anyway,” replied Scott.
Russell fell to his knees.
“Please don’t kill me. Please,” drool fell from his mouth as he cried and begged for his life. Urine soaked his trousers.
“Twenty-five years too late!” exclaimed Scott taking his sidearm back from Kyle and putting a bullet between Russell’s eyes.
“What about them?” asked Kyle pointing to the door behind which the guards cowered.
“Let them be. Come on, let’s go.”
One down, three to go thought Scott, plus the extras of course but they could wait. Transcon were most definitely top of the list.
Chapter 74
“Sorry, did I wake you?” asked the caller.
“Who is this?” asked a dozy but awake Agent Dwight Jennings. It was not every morning somebody phoned at 03.00. Nor every day that half your team was wiped out in the middle of the day in a quiet and safe Washington neighbourhood. Jennings had spent most of the evening at the hospital. Two of his six agents had survived the attack. One, however, was critical with only a 20% chance of survival. The other had suffered only superficial wounds, although two bullet wounds seemed a little more than superficial to Jennings.
“President Dan Mitchum,” replied the President.
Jennings sat bolt upright as though his commander and chief had walked into the room.
“Sorry Sir, how can I help?”
“Can you get down here right away Agent Jennings, we need to talk.”
“Yes, Sir”
Forty minutes later, Jennings was being whisked through security at the Whitehouse. The President was waiting for him in the Oval office with his NSA, Gerald Walters. The door lay open as they stood waiting for Jennings to arrive.
“Good morning, Mr President, Mr Walters,” offered Jennings as he entered the office.
“Good morning, coffee?” asked the President.
“No thank you, Sir.”
“OK gentlemen, please sit. Dwight, Gerald just arrived so rather than repeat myself I thought I’d wait until you were both here.”
Both Dwight and Gerald looked at each other, the tone of the President’s voice was unlike any they had heard in a long time, grave and menacing.
“I’ve just got off the phone a short while ago from Prime Minister Smith in the UK. We had a very interesting chat. It seems they’ve been having a few problems themselves with a certain major corporation.”
Both leaned forward as the President mentioned the prime minister and problems with a major corporation, both jumping to a similar question. Had Transcon tried to assassinate the PM of Britain?
“They have evidence to suggest that Transcon were in fact behind the assassination attempt on his life. However, the evidence at present is circumstantial and largely based on the testimony of the UK’s Defence Secretary.”
“But he died. What was it? A car crash they said on the news?”
The President shook his head. “No, it seems Mr Cunningham pissed off the wrong people. The PM’s men took him out. The car crash is a cover up.”
“What? They killed him?”
The President nodded. “That’s not all though. I think the story’s just breaking but Transcon’s European Head, one of their shareholders, was executed just a couple of hours ago. I believe there was quite a battle and all hell broke loose.”
“The PM’s men?”
The President nodded.
“Can they do that?”
“I don’t know but as far as PM Smith is concerned, Transcon declared war on the UK last night with the attempt on his life. They are a clear danger to the ongoing democracy of his nation and as such, he has let loose a team of specialists to resolve it. He’s the same as us. He doesn’t know who he can trust and who he can’t. Apart, obviously, from his team for whom the matter was personal, whatever that means.”
“So what can we do?”
“Nothing. It seems our Defence Secretary Todd Nielsen has been named as well. So I wouldn’t even know who to approach to help us anymore. The list of people we suspect or know are involved just grows and grows. I’m beginning to think it’s just the three of us who aren’t in on it!”
“But we can’t just let them get away with it. What about Baker?”
“I asked him about that, they have no evidence to suggest Baker is involved and we’ve not been able to tie him to Transcon either. I think that’s a red Herring. Hughes was just probably trying to secure a job in the new administration.”
“But we can’t just sit on our hands and do nothing.”
“You won’t. The UK team may contact you if they need anything. As I said, as far as the PM is concerned, he is at war. We should be as well. The only problem is we don’t know whether we can trust our soldiers to shoot in the right direction! So in the meantime, we give them whatever they want, whatever they want gentlemen. Our country is a democracy and will damn well stay one, at least as long as I’m sitting in this office.”
Walters and Jennings nodded vigorously. The President switched on the news channel and they watched the pictures being beamed back from Regents Park in the UK. A helicopter crew had managed to get some aerial shots and the TV company was running them as a loop. The first thing they saw was the line of body bags laid out on the lawn
. As they approached the rear of the house, the previously white house was blackened with a large hole through which the tail of a helicopter protruded. As the helicopter flew to the front of the house, huge holes seemed to have been punched through the wall and the front door was missing. A large blackened smouldering hole was left where it should have been. The cameraman then zoomed out and panned off to the right where two other helicopters lay smashed and crippled on the ground.
“Holy shit, what did they hit them with, a mechanized battalion?” exclaimed Gerald Walters as he took in the devastation.
The President shook his head, seeing the level of violence and the number of body bags, he was struggling to comprehend what he had been told.
“He told me there were just four of them.”
Chapter 75
“Don’t tell me not to fucking worry!” screamed Peter Astor. “Of course I’m fucking worried! Have you seen the pictures?”
The four remaining shareholders had been on a conference call since the news of Charles’ demise had come in. Sam Baker was telling everyone to calm down. Security had been stepped up and as far as he was concerned, everything would be fine. Their main concern should be Kennedy’s son. If he went to the courts, they’d lose everything.
“Of course we’ve seen the pictures, Peter,” replied Henry testily. “But we’re on the case and are tracking the killers down as we speak.”
“Fuck off Henry. If they can get to Charles they can get to us. I‘ve seen the body bags. He had a fucking army protecting him and they still got close enough to put a bullet through his forehead.”
“So what do you propose?”
“Honestly, just now I’d rather give it all up, just give the kid the fucking company. I’d rather be alive and poor than rich and dead.”
“Don’t talk nonsense Peter. Anyway, we’ve the slight problem of being implicated in last night’s assassination attempt on the PM to get round.”
“Please tell me you are joking?”
The line remained silent as nobody spoke.
“Fuck! What fucking idiot decided to do that!” screamed Peter, his blood pressure reaching dangerous heights. They were either going to win this battle or die.
Andrew DuPont had remained silent throughout. Peter was expending enough frustration for both of them.
“So what are we going to do?” asked Andrew.
“In three weeks, I will win the presidency. After that, we’re home and dry. After that, the lame duck President will be powerless. I’ll start sorting things out. We just need to keep our heads down for a few weeks more.”
“It’s OK for you guys, we don’t have the security you do. We’re sitting ducks out here.”
“Exactly,” Peter threw in.
Baker thought for a second. “Well, that’s easy to fix, come here. You can stay with Henry. We’ll put a ring of men so tight around the three of you, nobody will get within a mile.”
Both agreed.
***
As Baker put one phone down, another one rang. Bracing himself for more bad news, he picked it up. Nothing was going there way.
“We’ve got a hit on the girl,” rushed Ernst.
“Where?”
“Geneva. We’ve picked her up on a street camera entering the Rocco Forte Hotel. I’ve got a team en route to get her.”
“Don’t kill her, we’re going to need the leverage,” replied Sam.
Chapter 76
The BAE 125 jet of the RAF’s No.32 (Royal) Squadron touched down at Geneva airport just moments before the departure of a privately owned Airbus Corporate jet bound for New York. Although the airbus carried with it one of the main reasons for their visit, there was one other reason they had come to Geneva.
Medics had worked on Kirk during the short flight. Despite his injuries he refused to be left behind and demanded to be involved. Scott and Kyle had agreed; a one armed Kirk was better than most of the guys they’d come up against and the bullet in his ass, although funny, only seemed to be an issue when he wanted to sit down.
A car was waiting for Scott, Kyle and Kirk. Scott had decided that Jasmin should head off to the US. As far as he could gather, nobody even knew she existed and as such would not raise any warnings as she entered. The same could certainly not be said of Scott. He knew the moment he stepped on American soil, he’d be the most hunted man in the country. Jasmin would scope out the target and arrange any equipment they required, thanks to the President’s offer of assistance. When Scott arrived in the US, he wanted to be ready to hit them fast. He’d only get one chance and he wasn’t going to miss it.
The car drew to a stop at the rear of the hotel. Scott had upped the stakes dramatically that morning when he had executed Russell. Not only did they know he was alive, they now knew he was a much greater threat than they could have ever imagined.
Ignoring the questions as to who they were, the three marched through the service entrance and boarded the first elevator they came to. As the door began to close a hand shot in and stopped the door. The door re-opened to reveal a security guard, his hand resting on the pistol holster on his belt.
“Puis-je vous aider, Messieurs?” he asked.
“No but thanks for asking,” replied Scott pressing the button again for the top floor.
The security guard put his free hand against the elevator door, stopping it from moving.
“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he replied, switching to English in response to Scott.
Kirk wasn’t in the mood. In a blur of movement, he snapped his one good hand out and disarmed the security guard before he even had a chance to flinch. Holding the gun butt towards the guard to show he was not going to shoot him, said “Now fuck off and if you’re a good boy you might even get it back.”
As the guard tried to understand how the man with only one arm had managed to get his gun from him, Scott pressed the button and the elevator rose to the top floor.
Ashley opened the door on hearing Scott’s voice and gave him a huge hug as he stepped into the lobby of the Royal Suite. Kyle and Kirk nudged each other like school children as they watched the unflappable ice cold Scott, seemingly melt into the woman’s arms.
“You’ve met the gruesome twosome!” offered Scott as he noted the inane grins on the twins’ faces.
“Yes… What the hell’s been happening?” Ashley changed the subject quickly looking at Kirk’s bandages and pointing to the huge plasma screen beaming the pictures from Regents Park.
“War!” replied Scott leading her into the lounge to bring her up to speed.
***
Ernst wasn’t taking any chances. Normally, a couple of guys would have been sufficient to kidnap a woman. However, this one was fairly handy and had already killed two of the Unit’s men. He therefore sent eight. He’d have sent more but with security around DuPont the priority, he didn’t have anyone else to send and he didn’t want to wait until DuPont had gone. They might have missed the girl.
Two cars and a van pulled up at the service entrance of the hotel and seven men piled out and into the corridor. The security man following his earlier scrape, took one look at the men and decided to stay put. His paperwork was much more important than seven very large menacing men, particularly when he was unarmed. Taking a similar route to the previous three, the security guard began to realise something was definitely not right. Looking at the clock he realised it was time for his break and couldn’t think of a better time not to be there.
It had not taken long to track Ashley down. Every hot blooded male on the hotel staff knew where the American beauty was staying and it seemed she was alone. Somebody had been with her but they had left. The doorman had earned a $200 tip for his help and the men who had been sent to get the girl therefore knew exactly where she was.
The first of the group knocked on the door firmly. “Room Service!”
Scott had just finished telling Ashley what had happened the previous night when the knock came. “Have you ordere
d anything?” he whispered.
“No!” replied Ashley.
“Jesus, do these guys not watch TV. I mean, amateur hour or what? ‘Room Service’!! Have you still got the 5.7?”
Ashley handed Scott the pistol. Kirk had the revolver from the security guard which he hadn’t even bothered checking until then and found it was a useless replica.
Scott crept to the door and looked through the spy hole, one man stood with his back to the door, but he could see him motioning with his head. More men waited out of sight.
“Stall them,” he whispered to Ashley.
“Just coming, sorry I was in the shower!” she shouted.
“Ashley you stay in there and lock the door. We’ll keep them in the lobby area. That way we can control the situation.”
Ashley shook her head but having seen the guys in action, they obviously knew a damn site more than her about how to handle these things.
With the lobby turned into a small enclosed arena, Scott, Kirk and Kyle took up their positions and at the nod of his head, Scott opened the door, standing back in anticipation of being charged.
They were. The men charged in with their weapons drawn.
The charger had thrown his full weight behind the door and with nobody behind it, it flew open easily and sent him crashing head long into the lobby. Scott delivered a crushing blow to the back of the man’s head with his elbow as the man flew to the ground. Using the same arm. Scott threw a straight punch in to the next man, timed to perfection. His elbow locking just as impact was made, the man’s jaw and cheek shattered from the force of the impact and his body stopped dead in its tracks.
As Scott’s second man slumped to the floor, Scott looked around. Kirk and Kyle smiled back, two twisted bodies laying at each of their feet. Six armed men and not one had had the time to get a shot off. Not bad, thought Scott, just as the first bullet struck the door frame next to him.
Scion Page 30
