Capture or Kill

by Tom Marcus

  I touch Alex on her shoulder and she flinches. She’s always been good at masking her emotions during an operation, and she quickly regains her composure. ‘Sorry, what? Oh, the tag – what about the train line?’ She nods to the left of the road. ‘No cameras on there.’

  Perfect. Hard for anyone to search the tracks unless they stop all the trains. ‘Pull up here, mate. I’ll toss it over the fence. Any road cameras?’

  ‘Negative. Not for the past mile or so, and there’s loads of routes in and out of this village back to the motorway.’

  Grabbing the anklet, I throw it high over the fence and can hear it hitting the stones surrounding the railway track. Riaz has jumped in the front with Alex, possibly trying to get as far away from what’s just happened as he can, leaving me and Ryan with Khalid’s body.

  Leyton-Hughes’s voice breaks in. ‘From Ops, is it complete?’

  Ryan gives me a look I can’t read, then gets straight back on the net. ‘Yeah. It’s done. Back towards you now.’

  I start to feel pain in my fingers, see the outlines of the zip-ties embedded in my skin like a brand. I look down and there’s further evidence of what I’ve done. Hairs from his beard, mixed with blood and snot. Suddenly I feel like I’m covered in dirty guilt. I need a shower – the chance to wash myself clean of these traces of a dead man that cling to me. To wash myself clean of his death.

  It had to be done, I tell myself. It had to be done. But the words seem hollow. I lean back against the side of the van and close my eyes, wondering what I’ve become.

  9

  We drive back to the camp in silence, each cocooned in our own thoughts. But it’s painfully obvious we’re all thinking about the same thing. Khalid’s lifeless body might be hidden by a blanket, but there’s no hiding from what we’ve done – what I’ve done. At least I’m not alone in the back with him. Ryan is sitting opposite me, leaning back against the side of the van, and I feel a desperate need for him to say something, anything, to tell me he’s OK with what’s happened. I close my eyes for a moment, beginning to feel dizzy, the adrenaline now washed out of me, no fuel left in the tank, just totally drained and empty. It’s a familiar feeling to anyone who’s seen combat. Your mind and body have been in overdrive, doing everything to make sure you survive and the other guy doesn’t, but now the action’s over and you’ve come out the other side, everything just starts to shut down.

  Ryan nudges my arm. ‘You OK, mate?’

  Focusing on his eyes, I think I see genuine sympathy rather than disgust.

  ‘Yeah. It had to be done. This team and the impact we’re going to make is bigger than one nutjob cleric . . . right?’

  He nods, like he understands.

  ‘Have you . . .?’

  He shakes his head. ‘No. Never been in that situation myself. Trained for it, of course, but I went pretty much straight into intelligence.’

  ‘So you never got your hands dirty.’ Bollocks, I’m no good at all this sharing stuff. ‘Sorry, that came out wrong.’

  He waves it away. ‘No offence taken. And in a way, you’re right. I’ve never had to kill someone with my bare hands. Don’t know if I could do it, to be honest. But have I killed people? Sentenced someone to death because of a decision I’ve made? Knowingly put someone in harm’s way and let them be killed? Yep, I’ve done that.’

  ‘So you don’t have a problem with what just happened?’

  ‘A problem? Mate, I do have a problem with it. I wish it was something we didn’t have to do. I wish there was an alternative. But as soon as the boss told us the plan, I could see where it was all going to end up. What we’d have to do. I’ve seen enough bad guys we let go, because legally we couldn’t touch them. I’ve spent too many nights lying awake thinking about the consequences of that, whether we were putting other people – innocent people – at risk. There’s no perfect solution, no way of stopping these bastards and keeping our hands clean. So, we do what we have to do. And sometimes –’ he flicks his eyes at the bundle beneath the blanket – ‘it isn’t pretty.’

  Knowing I wasn’t on my own in this was a relief and slightly comforting. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. ‘Thanks, mate. I’m not so sure Riaz feels the same way, though. I don’t think he was expecting anything like that.’

  He’s unable to hear me talking slightly quieter in the back, but I want to make sure he is OK. I need Ryan’s point of view again, he’s good at reading people.

  Ryan nods and lowers his tone to match mine. ‘Maybe not up close and personal, no. But he knew what he was getting into, like we all did. He’s probably a bit in shock. Give him a bit of time and he’ll come round.’ He gives my shoulder a squeeze then settles back and closes his eyes. ‘I reckon we’ll be back in action as soon as the boss has briefed us on that address, so I’m going to try and shut my eyes for a bit.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  You can tell he’s been in the military. It was the first rule of army life. Sleep when you can, eat when you can. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet, however exhausted I was. Ryan had reassured me that the rest of the Blindeye team would come to terms with the execution of Khalid. We’d all take collective responsibility for it and move on. But there was someone else I needed to talk to before I could relax. Someone else who needed to understand why I did what I had just done.

  Sarah.

  I close my eyes and instantly there she is, sitting at the kitchen table with her arms folded and a questioning expression on her face. A strand of blonde hair is over one eye, and I just resist the temptation to reach out and smooth it behind her ear.

  Hello, Logan.

  Hello, I murmur, hoping my lips aren’t moving. But a quick check reveals that Ryan has his head on his chest and seems sound asleep.

  Sarah looks at me. I know she knows everything that’s happened in the van.

  I had to do it. You do understand, don’t you?

  She just keeps looking at me, her eyes narrowing, like she’s trying to see inside my head.

  Tell me you understand, Sarah. Please! I need to know. I’m doing this to keep people safe. Innocent people, like you and Joseph. And I’ll do whatever it takes. Even if it means killing people.

  She frowns.

  Please say something. Please! I feel like I’m about to explode.

  Logan? Yes!

  Just tell me one thing.

  Yes! Anything!

  Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.

  The van hits a bump and I’m jerked back into reality.

  ‘Almost home,’ Alex shouts from the front.

  I try to get a grip on reality, but Sarah’s words are still echoing in my head. She was the person who knew me best, who could see deep inside me. There was nothing I could hide from her. Had I enjoyed it? Had I wanted to make him suffer? To be honest, I don’t really know. I’ve managed to put a lid on my emotions, so I no longer consciously feel anything. But they’re still there, bubbling away out of sight. Better make sure the lid stays slammed on tight, then.

  ‘Ops, do you read, Riaz?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘We’re ten minutes out.’

  ‘Roger that, you’re deploying straight out once you get back here. Craig is back already. Alan is out recovering Craig’s car. Claire, what’s your ETA?’

  ‘About twenty minutes. A4 got blocked behind me on the bridge. Haven’t seen them since.’

  ‘Roger that. I’ve spoken to the DG. A Branch are monitoring the police investigation into Stormy Weather escaping prison and ditching his ankle tag. A4 aren’t involved in the search yet. Ops out.’

  We all exchange relieved looks. At least we aren’t being chased by the police or a surveillance team from MI5. We seem to have got away with it.

  Riaz and I make eye contact. ‘Riaz, you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, mate. We’re stopping the public getting hurt, right? It’s why we were brought together. No different than dropping a five-hundred pound JDAM on a compound in Afghanistan, right
?’

  A smile grows across my face. ‘Yeah, the only difference is this bomb was delivered with my bare hands.’

  He grins back. We’re good.

  ‘OK,’ Alex chimes in. ‘No traffic cameras for the past few miles. Let’s change the look of the van and we can get home. We’re about two miles away now.’

  As Alex turns down a side road and brings the car to a stop, Ryan jumps out of the side door and we hear Alan pop up on the net.

  ‘From Alan, I’ve got Craig’s car now. Out of interest, did anyone use a dummy phone out here?’

  ‘Yeah, Alan, I did,’ I respond. ‘I dumped it in a rubbish bin, it definitely started burning.’

  ‘No worries. It’s probably destroyed itself now with the burn rate.’

  Normally we would never leave operational kit out, especially as police will be checking the area, but we were lucky to have got out clean. We can’t afford to risk going back when there is an active police presence. It definitely feels like we have been fortunate rather than skilful, though. Next time we deploy on the ground we need to be more prepared.

  As Ryan jumps back in, I can tell from his face that the smell has really hit him, and for the first time I realize how badly it stinks of death in here. We need to deal with the body and get the van cleaned up as soon as we get back to camp, but first we’ve got to get through the gates. Ryan stands up and pulls a black roller shutter down to separate the cab from the back of the van – hopefully this will prevent the guards seeing into the back.

  A few minutes later, Alex winds down her window and shows the car pass that matches the plates. We all hold our breath, hoping the guard hasn’t got a keen sense of smell, but he waves her straight through and we roll slowly through the camp to our building. As we wait for the roller doors of our building to open, I release the shutter blind and ask Alex to reverse the van up to the incinerator at the far end. She locks eyes with me again in her rear-view mirror. ‘Roger that,’ she whispers hoarsely. She’s compartmentalizing what’s just happened and maybe preparing herself for what’s coming next.

  As the van swings round then reverses, I make my way to the back to open the doors. Swinging one door open, I shout, ‘Keep coming, mate, keep coming. That’ll do ya.’ Alex smoothly brings the van to a standstill. I step down out of the back and walk over to the huge incinerator door, pulling the big lever handle down with a grunt. Shit, this thing is old, and it looks like it hasn’t been used in a while, but I reckon it’ll still do the job OK. In the past it must have been used to destroy not just documents but also military equipment or maybe hazardous waste, judging by all the different inlet and outlet pipes, so it must be capable of getting hot enough to take care of a body.

  I exchange glances with Ryan and Riaz. They understand what we have to do. I duck back inside the van, pull off the blanket and grab Khalid’s shoulders. Ryan joins me and helps push his lower body out, then he and Riaz each take hold of a leg while I get my hands under the armpits. I notice Khalid’s lost a shoe in the struggle. We’ll need to find that and make sure it goes in the incinerator, along with the blanket. He’s surprisingly heavy, and all three of us are quickly sweating.

  Leyton-Hughes sticks his head around the van doors, but is stopped in his tracks by the sight of Khalid’s head hanging down, tongue swollen and hanging out of his mouth. Whatever he was about to say sticks in his throat, and he just nods like a meek little schoolboy before disappearing again.

  With one quick heave, I manage to get Khalid’s head and one shoulder onto the short roller system that leads into a steel grate inside the burner. I can see why Leyton-Hughes didn’t want to stick around. On the journey back, Khalid’s face hasn’t got any prettier; his skin tone, the way his eyes have almost been forced out of his face, and the distortion of the zip-ties still biting into his beard and neck like some unrelenting beast, tell the story of what I did to him. Refocusing my gaze, I make use of the rollers and shove his body along, and all three of us push his feet and legs until he’s all the way in. I go back to the van, find the shoe and toss it in the burner along with the blanket. I close the heavy door with a dull clang and push the lever back into the closed position.

  Ryan and Riaz stand either side of me. I turn to my left and Alex is there too, along with Craig and Claire. I make eye contact with each in turn. They don’t need to speak. We’re doing this together. As a team. This wasn’t fucking Hollywood, it was our life, no high fives and beers in a bar surrounded by beautiful people with chiselled bodies. No staring into the sunset, receiving medals. No matter how fucked-up the work our team did today, it bonded us, like a chemical reaction. Different materials fused together, creating one new substance. That was us. We’ve been together less than twenty-four hours, and I already feel closer to these guys than any surveillance team I’ve ever been on.

  There are two red buttons on the side of the burner. I press the top one and there’s a whoosh that sounds like gas starting to flow, followed by a thud as it ignites. I can see a flame showing in the little window at the bottom. Over the next few hours the temperature will rise to 1,900˚C, at least according to the operating guide just to the side of the door. After the incinerator is finished, the diagram on the guide shows any material that remains being passed through a crusher of some sort. All the evidence of what we did today will be gone. Apart from the DNA in the van – we’ll have to let Alan know about that.

  Leyton-Hughes reappears, looking fresh in a suit and tie, his hair neatly combed. ‘Briefing room when you’re ready, please.’

  I realize that, compared to him, I must look and smell like a tramp. ‘Gimme five, yeah?’ I say, heading for the toilets. There’s no time to get properly cleaned up, but I just need to wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face. Leyton-Hughes doesn’t answer. He starts talking to Craig and Claire.

  I open the door and start running cold water in one of the sinks. Even with the taps on I can still hear the roar of the burner in the background. I look at the face confronting me in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot, my skin pale and sickly looking. There’s a scratch down one cheek. My lower lip is swollen and there’s a tooth mark where I must have bitten it in the struggle. I turn the taps on full force, but the noise of the burner seems to be getting louder, like a jet engine getting ready for take-off. Unable to make the water run faster or loud enough to drown the noise out, I put my hands over my ears, but the roaring seems to be inside my head. The sweat is pouring off me as my head fills with heat and light and I start to feel myself burning, and then—

  Nothing. Falling. I’m being sucked down a black hole.

  ‘Logan!’

  I open my eyes and I’m sitting on the floor, my head against the sink. Alex is kneeling beside me. Grabbing her arm, I’m hoping she can tell me what just happened. ‘Alex, you OK? What’s—? Wait, how long was I out?’

  ‘Can’t have been long. You didn’t look too good, so I followed you in.’

  ‘Fuck, I need to get up. I can’t let anyone else see me like this.’

  She puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘Just stay where you are for a minute, Logan. The rest of the team have gone to the briefing room.’

  I slump back. ‘I don’t know what happened, Alex.’

  She shakes her head as if I’m a total twat. ‘I do. Think about it, Logan. Yesterday you were at your wife and son’s funeral. Now here you are. Being asked to do . . . that.’ Alex is phrasing this sensitively, but I’m not sure what she feels more awkward talking about – my family or killing Khalid.

  ‘Fuck, Alex, I’m sorry. I’m OK.’

  ‘You’re not OK. But it’s fine, we’ve got you. Your brain needed to shut down for a bit.’

  ‘Well it fucking did that all right.’ I pull myself up gingerly, holding onto the edge of the sink. Trying to regain some sort of composure again after looking so vulnerable seconds earlier, I splash water on my face, stick my mouth under the tap and drink like a dog on a red-hot day. It was cold and good.

  ‘Look,
Alex. There’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘It’s OK, Logan. It doesn’t—’

  ‘No, really. This is important, OK?’

  ‘All right. I’m listening.’ I never spoke about what was going on in my head, neither did Alex. It’s the type of people we are, always hunting intelligence but never giving it away, but this felt right somehow.

  ‘When I took care of Khalid, that was just . . . an operational necessity.’

  ‘I know that, Logan. It was pretty fucking brutal, but nobody has a problem with it.’

  I shake my head. ‘No, I don’t mean that. There’s something else. You need to know that I did it because I had to. Not because I wanted to. If there’d been another way . . . I didn’t hate him. I wasn’t taking revenge for what happened to Sarah and Joseph. I need you to understand that. I didn’t like doing it. I didn’t enjoy it.’

  She can see the pleading look in my eyes. She takes a step forwards and puts her arms around me. ‘Logan. I believe you, the team knows too. It’s OK.’

  She squeezes me tight, and I feel the tension leave me. ‘Thanks, mate. I just needed you to know.’

  ‘No problem.’ She wipes what looks like a tear out of her eye. ‘Fucking dust in this place. Now come on, we don’t want Leyton-Hughes going all Oxford-Sandhurst on us.’

  I grin. ‘Posh twat.’

  We walk out of the toilets to see Riaz facing the incinerator door, saying some sort of prayer. I feel instantly ashamed that I don’t know what he’s saying or what his hand gestures mean. Alex grabs my arm. ‘Come on.’ We walk up the stairs and, after a few moments, Riaz follows.

  As we take our seats, Leyton-Hughes is standing with his arms crossed and a look like thunder on his face.

  10

  Go on then Jeremy, give us your worst. He waits until the team is assembled, then lets rip. ‘What part of keeping the unit deniable don’t you understand?’ He stares at each of us in turn, but if he’s expecting us to cower in fear, he’s in for a surprise. There’s no way we’re about to take any shit today after what he’s just ordered us to do. I’m the one who should be reacting to Leyton-Hughes first but it’s Alex who jumps up from her chair and takes a step forwards.