Hot Zone (Major Crimes Unit Book 2)

by Iain Rob Wright

  “I want to speak with her alone,” Howard said, marching up to Sarah until his sweating face was right up against hers. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her away from the two men guarding her.

  Sarah couldn’t bring herself to look her former colleague in the eye, so she stared down at the floor instead, then, when she spotted a bloodstain on the carpet, she looked at her shoes.

  Howard shoved her back against the wall. “What the hell happened to you, Sarah? How did you get involved in all this?”

  Sarah couldn’t find her voice.

  “Talk, Sarah. Believe me, I’m the last person who will be willing to listen.”

  Sarah forced herself to look up at Howard and felt tears run down the good side of her face. The other side lacked feeling and the ducts rarely opened beneath her left eye. “I didn’t know,” she said. “I…I was abducted, shoved in a cell and kept for four months.”

  Howard softened a little, but his folded arms made his hostility clear. “Abducted by whom?”

  “My father. I managed to escape a few days ago. I was just about to get away and then…he was there, my father. He was the one who kidnapped me outside of Bradley’s funeral. We got in his way when we took down Hesbani.”

  “Hesbani? What are you talking about?”

  “Someone paid my father for Hesbani’s head, but we got there first. We cost him a lot of money.”

  Howard frowned, kept his arms folded. “What does any of that have to do with any of this? Why were you working with Dr Krenshaw? Do you know what he has done?”

  Sarah nodded. “My father said he was taking Krenshaw abroad and handing him over to the South African government for justice. I didn’t know he was going to do any of this, I swear. He dragged me along and, before I knew it, I was fighting the MCU. God, how is Mattock? Is he alright? Tell him I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this. I just wanted to get out, start again.”

  “Mattock is fine,” said Howard, finally unfolding his arms. “He knows you shot wide on purpose. In fact he told me to go easy on you. Not sure I could be so forgiving if somebody shot me.”

  “Howard I-”

  Somebody shouted. “Agent Hopkins.”

  Howard spun around. An Asian man in a guard’s uniform was hailing him from the cafe area.

  Howard grabbed Sarah and took her along. He seemed to know the guard calling him. “Tariq, what is it?”

  “We have a survivor.”

  Sarah’s eyes went wide and for a moment she hoped that it was Ollie, but she was soon disappointed when she saw it was Krenshaw. Sarah forgot the situation for a moment, filled and driven by rage. She pushed Howard aside and hurried over to the doctor. Krenshaw was shot in the chest, his breathing ragged, but he was awake for now. The wound was clearly fatal; he did not have long.”

  “What is in that briefcase?” she demanded. “Tell me.”

  Despite his obvious pain, Krenshaw managed to smile. “With pleasure.” He said, before coughing and spluttering. Blood seeped between his lips, but he managed to continue. “Inside the briefcase is my masterpiece, a disease so deadly it will bring the West to its knees and finally bring the world the equilibrium it needs. There will be no more 3rd World, no more elitism; just mankind’s united struggle against a virus more powerful than God. This country is about to become a headless chicken. My mission may have failed, but your father will go on to strike at the heart of this country. It will be an example to the world.”

  Sarah grabbed the doctor and shook him, making him groan. “What is it? What is the virus and how do we stop it?”

  “You don’t…stop it. It will burn you from the inside. Your flesh will melt away until there is nothing left but bone and fat. I call it…the Peeling.” Krenshaw’s body clenched and a mouthful of blood spewed out of his mouth. Sarah tried to hold onto him, but he bucked out of her grasp and spread out on the tiles.

  “He’s dead,” said Howard, pulling her away. “What was he talking about, Sarah? What is your father planning?”

  “I have no idea. Something’s happened to him. He’s not the same.”

  The security guard, Tariq, looked at Howard and said, “Should I take her into custody? Your director has been on the line, he’s sending a team to work with the Home Office in clearing this mess up. Seven of my men are dead and the whole airport is on lockdown.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Howard. “Truly. I know what it’s like to lose men, but this women isn’t responsible. She wasn’t involved in the firefight. She’s one of ours.”

  Tariq raised an eyebrow and looked at Howard with suspicion.

  Howard was not deterred. “Sarah’s been working undercover for MCU. Her father, Major Stone, is a wanted man and, as his daughter, she was uniquely placed to infiltrate his operation. Now Major Stone’s men are dead and we very nearly had him, too. My people from MCU will clear everything up with you, Tariq, but, right now, Sarah and I need to find Major Stone before whatever is inside that briefcase gets out. The airport must be surrounded. There’s no way he can get out, surely?”

  Sarah glanced at Howard in confusion. What was he doing? He was lying on her behalf, but why?

  Tariq stood stiffly for a moment but then shrugged. “You’ve been given authority here. I can’t stop you from doing anything. I’ll go find out where Major Stone headed after her fled.” The man walked away, speaking into a radio a couple of seconds later.

  “Why did you say that?” asked Sarah. “I haven’t been helping you.”

  Howard was still red in the cheeks, but his arms lay by his sides and he no longer glared at her. “Your father is still at large, Sarah. You may still have some use. You are his daughter after all.”

  “Not sure that will be much help.”

  “We’ll see. Either way, you’re going to help me make this right.”

  Tariq returned a couple of minutes later, shaking his head and blinking slowly. “Your man escaped through a fire exit next to gate 12. He broke a luggage handler’s neck on the tarmac and managed to disappear. I don’t even know how that’s possible. It’s broad daylight and there are police officers surrounding the entire airport. Only a ghost could slip away.”

  “My father was SAS,” said Sarah. “He can disappear from a locked room.”

  Howard took Sarah aside. “You’ve been working with your father. Where could he be planning to release the virus?”

  Something popped into her head and she spoke it before she even understood what it was. “Headless chicken.”

  Howard looked at her. “What?”

  “Krenshaw said the country was about to become a headless chicken, that my father is going to strike at its heart. My father has a grudge against the government for some reason. I think he might attack Breslow.”

  Howard moaned. “Great. Last year the Queen, this year the Prime Minister. You think he’s heading to White Hall, Westminster, Downing Street? Are you sure about this?”

  “No, but my father doesn’t speak idly. If he’s been making comments about the government, it’s because he’s planning something. Is parliament in session today?”

  “I’ll find out.” Howard turned and made a call on his mobsat, something she remembered doing herself not so long ago. When he turned back again he had a grave expression on his face. “The house is in session all day. They’re voting on foreign war policy. Breslow wants to recruit another forty-thousand bodies into the army in order to fight abroad.”

  Sarah straightened up, hoping she was wrong about her father but pretty much sure. “Infecting an airport with a deadly virus would have been devastating, but wiping out three-hundred MPs will make a good Plan B. We have to stop him.”

  Howard nodded. “We will. Nobody else is getting sick because of Krenshaw’s pet projects. Not on my watch.”

  “We need to get into the city before my father gets there.”

  “Mandy is waiting by. He’ll be glad to see you.”

  Sarah couldn’t help but smile. “Is he still a tal
ker?”

  “Hasn’t changed a bit.” Howard’s expression had turned briefly jovial, but it now turned quickly serious. “You’re not off the hook for any of this, Sarah. At the moment, the only thing going for you is ignorance and stupidity, but if I find out you knew what your father was planning…”

  “I didn’t know,” she said, “but I understand. I really screwed up here, Howard, and all I want to do is make it right. Get me to my father and I’ll finish this, I promise.”

  Howard looked at her curiously. “You sure? This is your father we’re dealing with.”

  “He’s not my father,” she said. “To be honest, he never has been. Even so, it’s time for me to emancipate myself once and for all.”

  21

  Sarah followed Howard out through the barricade of flashing police cars and headed over to a vehicle she knew well. It was one of the MCU’s black Range Rover Westminsters. Howard opened up the rear door and allowed her to hop up inside, while he slid into the front passenger seat beside another man. Sarah spotted Mandy at the wheel and nodded.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Mandy said nothing but nodded back as agreeably as he was able. The thick-necked driver-slash-pilot-slash-stuntman was MCU’s mechanical savant. There wasn’t a motorised vehicle in the world that Manny Dobbs could not manoeuvre to within the very limits of its capabilities.

  “Get us to the Houses of Parliament,” said Howard to Mandy. He didn’t need to say ‘fast’ because Mandy went everywhere fast by default. Without word, he gunned the engine and whipped the Range Rover through the police cordon, which stretched for half a mile around the entire airport. Sarah wondered how on earth her father had got away. To lay siege to the country’s busiest airport, killing indiscriminately, before disappearing into dust, was a typical feat of the SAS, but Major Stone was no longer a part of their ranks. He was even more dangerous.

  The city’s traffic was stirred up like a nest of bees, since news obviously spread of the terrorist attack on the airport. After Hesbani last year and the rumours of Ebola Reading being part of a deliberate attack, the residents of the capitol were skittish, afraid. They had every reason to be.

  Britain was a country struggling to find a new identity in the world. It was no longer a world power but neither did it fit well into a host of equals. While Europe came together as one, Britain fought desperately to remain empirical, keeping its pound and taking umbrage with any who dared give it orders. After the recent attacks, Britain would be forced to ask for help from the allies it so often spurred. If parliament were hit, then nothing would ever be the same. Sarah wondered if that was what her father wanted. Not just change, but complete renewal.

  It took almost an hour to reach Westminster and Howard chatted to Palu constantly via mobsat. Crossing over the bridge towards Big Ben immediately brought back memories for Sarah, memories of Hesbani and her former comrade, Hamish. Had he truly been working for her father all along? Was his hatred for her part of the reason he had turned away from his own country?

  “The traffic has held us up badly,” said Howard, turning around to face Sarah in the back. “Your father had a head start on us and Palu just got word of a car theft outside of Heathrow ninety-minutes ago. He might have a ride.”

  Sarah asked, “Does Parliament know it may be a target?”

  Howard nodded. “Special Branch is holding a perimeter, but Breslow won’t convene. You know her stance on terrorism, she doesn’t bend or respond to threats.”

  Sarah hissed. “Things that don’t bend, break.”

  Mandy skidded up outside the Houses of Parliament and immediately two armed men approached them. Howard hopped out and showed his badge. The Special Branch officers backed off.

  “Follow my lead, Sarah,” Howard told her. “I still can’t say I trust you.”

  The comment hurt Sarah, but she could find no fault in its reasoning. She had betrayed Howard, betrayed her country. She and the United Kingdom were in no way cosy companions, but she realised now that it was her home — love it or hate it — and right now it was under threat by her father.

  They headed inside the Houses of Parliament and entered Confederation Hall. Immediately, they turned left towards the House of Commons. There were a pair of guards up ahead, sitting in ornately-wrought brass chairs either side of the entrance. Howard called out to them.

  “Is Parliament still in session? Have you been fully briefed? Hey, stand up and answer me.”

  Sarah reached out and touched Howard’s arm. “Howard…”

  They approached the two Special Branch officers and Sarah noticed right away how their chins lay against their chests. Blood stained the top of their shirts and glistened.

  Howard pulled out his gun. “Your father’s already here. These men have no weapons.”

  Sarah stepped in front of Howard and kicked open the doors to the House of Commons, just as the first gunshot rang out. Chaos erupted throughout the tiered benches of the chamber. A flood of MPs tried to sprint towards the doors but many were mown down by automatic gunfire. They fell onto the stomachs, side by side, and formed a carpet of bodies. The remaining MPs, still well over a hundred in total, froze in place, cowering behind benches or lying completely flat on the floor. The Leader of the Opposition tried to stand tall and approach Major Stone, who stood on the Speaker’s dais like a towering judge, but Prime Minister Breslow swatted the sallow man aside like a fly. She would be the one to deal with this situation, that much was clear.

  Sarah’s father spotted her presence and seemed surprised. “Sarah? Be a good daughter and close those doors, would you? I would hate to have to shoot anybody else.”

  Sarah played along and shoved the doors closed behind her and Howard. Howard had his gun levelled at her father, but it would be little match for the twin MP5s that the other man wielded. Krenshaw’s briefcase lay on a table in front of Major Stone on the table in front of the Speaker’s chair. He patted it and smiled.

  Breslow turned on Sarah and glared. “I know you.”

  Sarah nodded. “My face is kind of hard to forget.”

  “You stopped Hesbani.”

  “I did.”

  “So why this? Why are you doing this?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I’m not here to help my father. I’m here to stop him.”

  Breslow gave a cat-like grin and turned around to face Major Stone. “Least you raised a decent daughter, Major Stone.”

  Major Stone was unsmiling. “You know of me, Prime Minister?”

  “I was briefed about what happened at Heathrow and warned that you may have been en route here. Bravo on gaining entry, Major. I believed the place quite fortified.”

  “It’ll take more than a few upper-echelon civilians to stop me. If Special Branch is all you have to protect you, it’s a miracle you’ve lived this long.”

  Breslow continued to smile. “You wouldn’t be the first man to underestimate me, Major.”

  “I’ll be the first to kill you, though. A woman has no place running the world of men. What could you understand of war and politics? Women exist to raise men, not dominate them. You are an abomination.”

  Breslow seemed unfazed by both the blatant misogyny and the pair of sub-machine guns aimed at her face. “What do you want, Major? You have just killed the Foreign Secretary and three members of the shadow cabinet. Despite what one might think, I considered them all friends.”

  Major Stone waved an arm around the room, making various MPs flinch as the MP5’s crosshairs fell over them. “What I want is what you see: the submission of this malignant hive of malefactors followed by its complete annihilation.”

  Breslow nodded at the two MP5s he was holding. “Do you have enough bullets?”

  He tapped the briefcase in front of him. “I have something better.”

  Howard took a step forward, gun still held up and aimed forward. “Prime Minister, MCU believes that the contents of that briefcase contain a deadly disease engineered by the man responsible of Ebola Reading.�
�

  Breslow looked at him. “That would be Dr Krenshaw, correct? Deceased?”

  Howard nodded. “You’ve been well briefed.”

  “It pays to be, although it would seem one can never be too prepared.” She turned back to Major Stone. “So, I return to my previous question: what do you want? If it is merely to kill us all then what’s keeping you?”

  Sarah felt a twinge of satisfaction as she watched the uncertainty cross her father’s face. He obviously hadn’t expected such brazenness from the Prime Minister, a woman. He gathered a hold of himself quickly, though, and gave the PM a glare so fiery that it would not have been surprising if she caught fire.

  “I want the right-honourable peers assembled here to witness you admit your crimes. The people in this country need to see that our leader is no nobler than Saddam Hussain or Colonel Gaddafi were. I want to see you humbled to the lowly scorpion that you are — you and all those like you.”

  Breslow actually yawned then. The assembled MPs had crept out from their hiding places and were now enraptured by what they were seeing.

  “So that’s it,” said Breslow. “You’re just another disgruntled vet with a grudge against the men and women who commanded them? Did I ever give you an order, Major Stone? You’ll have to forgive me for not remembering.”

  Major Stone spoke slowly. “Syria, September 13th, 2012.”

  Breslow looked at him blankly.

  “There is the problem,” he said in a voice more a growl than speech. “On that date, one-hundred-and-twelve innocent people lost their lives on your orders and you don’t even remember. You have forgotten the bomb you dropped after I lased a target I was assured was a rebel outpost. But it wasn’t, was it? You had me and my men light up a goddamn orphanage just to get one man, who wasn’t even there. You wanted Al Al-Sharir so bad that you were willing to kill one-hundred children just to get him.”

  “You don’t strike me as a man who values children, Major Stone.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Prime Minister. I care very much for children, for they are the only truly innocent of this world. They know nothing of bloodshed and greed, religion or politics. I even had a child myself, once. I tried to be a father for a while, was even pretty good at it. I would hold this child of mine on my lap, each night before putting her down to bed, and sing songs to her. Her beautiful little face would light up and something inside of me would light up, too. That beautiful face no longer exists, just another thing turned to scars and ashes by this damned nation.”