Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  “Yes, all one billion dollars has been received into your Cayman account,” said the money man, a Russian by the name of Nikolai.

  “Then I think it is high time we made our escape, don’t you, Tony?” Elena got up, handing a gun to Anthony. “I’ll let you clean up,” and she moved away, the other two men looking up at her. Two shots were fired, killing both men as they sat in their chairs. Anthony then walked out of the room and following Elena out to a waiting car. They got in, and the car set off straight away, heading for the airport.

  At Zurich airport, the British party were cleared through diplomatic channels efficiently. Switzerland was not a hotbed of terrorist attacks, and they wanted a quick resolution to this incident, with as little fuss as possible. Joining the MI6 boss and Zoe was Anya’s father, a member of the House of Lords, but obviously there for personal reasons. He’d been made aware of her possible involvement shortly after the incident. Shocked and angry, he had insisted on visiting the scene. MI6 had therefore decided to do this via diplomatic channels. Having the high profile father of an FSB agent travelling to the scene of a bombing wasn’t something anyone wanted to advertise.

  They were taken straight to the hospital. The Swiss, ever diplomatic, had only confirmed to the British that one person lay dead in the morgue, awaiting identification, and another lay critically injured, but stable, in hospital. Security was put in place around the hospital.

  It was a sombre moment as the three were shown into the hospital and led to the room of the survivor who was being kept in an induced coma while injuries were assessed and burns dealt with. Zoe and the two gentlemen stood in the doorway. Before them was a bed and in it was a patient partially covered by a sheet. From where they were standing, they couldn’t yet see the face. They walked round to the side: lying in bed was a damaged, but alive, Charlie Boon.

  “I’m so sorry,” said the MI6 boss to the man standing next to him, his head bowed, though no tears were showing at that stage.

  A doctor appeared in the doorway and ushered them out again.

  “Please, he needs time,” the doctor said as they came to join him.

  “How is he?” asked the MI6 man.

  “He’s very fortunate to survive. We’ve treated his immediate wounds. Nothing is life-threatening, and over the next two days we’ll wake him up. I would think we’d need to keep him in for about a week.”

  “And the other victim?” Anya’s father said. “Can I see the body?”

  “Yes, of course, sir.” The hospital had been informed of who they all were. Identification was still needed on the female corpse they had in the morgue, though it was now surely just a formality. “Please, follow me,” and he led them to another room where a man met them.

  “Can I stay here with Charlie?” Zoe said.

  “He will not be awake for another two days, ma’am,” said the doctor. “But you are welcome to hang around anyway.”

  The MI6 man nodded, patting her on the back as he left with Anya’s father. The two men were then driven to the morgue, pulling up as a rain shower started soaking the tarmac around them. Both men ran for the main entrance. Following the man who’d driven them, they entered the morgue, where they were all expected. Both men were taken straight into another side room, a body lying under a sheet on a trolley in the middle of the floor. The attendant paused for a moment before removing the sheet partially, revealing just Anya’s face.

  Anya’s father put a hand to his mouth and let out a long sigh. Any tiny hope that remained was gone. His daughter was dead, and there was anger there now, but he didn’t want to express any of that at the moment, not next to the body of his only child. He just turned and walked away. The MI6 man followed.

  “Please, sir, we need you to sign these papers,” called the attendant. They went over, and the father filled in his details, confirming the identity and signing his name. They would contact him later about having the body moved. Now was not the time.

  Outside once more, the MI6 man turned and said:

  “I’m sorry for your loss, I really am.”

  “What was she even doing near that man?” he practically spat out. “I told her not to have anything to do with that good-for-nothing piece of trash. And now look––this has happened to her.”

  There was nothing to say in return at that point, so he remained silent. The father needed time to grieve.

  31

  It was now four days since the explosion in the Zurich hotel room which had left one FSB agent dead and another MI6 agent injured. Charlie had been conscious for two days. Zoe had stayed with him, bringing him up to speed.

  They hadn’t talked too much about everything yet, but he was aware Anya had been killed. He’d said nothing about her loss since being informed the day before. Charlie’s face told Zoe the full story, the anguish in his eyes, his sheer devastation and loss so clearly displayed.

  “There was a van outside the hotel,” he said. “They’d been watching us all day.”

  “Who had been?”

  “I don’t know. I assume the Russians. Anyway, I’d seen one of them in the morning having a cigarette. At the time, I thought nothing of it until I spotted the same van, still in the same place, later that day. It drove off shortly before the explosion.”

  “Remote detonation?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I assume, too. Can you see what you can find out about where they went?” She was jotting down notes as he spoke, as she had been all morning. Though she knew the loss of Anya meant a lot to Charlie, as well as seeing first hand the effect it had on her father, Zoe couldn’t help but be glad that it had been Charlie who’d made it out alive. “We also need to stop the sale of RusCom. It’s all a fake.”

  “Too late on that one, I’m afraid, Charlie. It all went through yesterday.”

  “What’s happened since?”

  “It’s all kicking off. Apple and Samsung are claiming fraud. Though their payments were a little on the dubious side, there was enough for them to go on to come out publicly. Neither accepts the other has any legal right to the company. The lost investment a mere drop in the ocean for both companies, but it is being left red-faced about which they are most embarrassed. Of course, this tablet has come to nothing. Share value has crashed overnight. The futures market in London is on the brink of collapse. Billions of dollars in debts. It won’t be the only one to go under, either. A few around the world are struggling. The Prime Minister has resigned, too, in the last five hours. There’ll be a general election, though no dates for this yet.”

  “Wow. Where does it leave everyone?”

  “Initially, Apple and Samsung, while hit hard, will both survive. They’ve been hit harder before. But its left a hole. Both have lost around fifteen per cent in value already. The London stock market is most at risk. With the futures market in free fall, the whole financial system is in meltdown. And politically, a new day is just around the corner; it would seem.”

  “How are Anya’s parents? You said her father was here in Zurich?”

  “Yes, he came over with me on the flight from London. He’s not said a lot since; oh, but he blames you for her death, by the way. Doesn’t think a lot of you at all, if I’m honest.”

  “Nothing new there,” he laughed back but stopped as pain in his stomach reminded him that laughing was not a good idea given his injuries.

  “And her mother?”

  “Nothing has been heard from her. She seems to have vanished from the scene in Moscow. Two men were found dead in her office at the Kremlin.”

  The doctor came back in at that moment. It was time for Zoe to leave again. Charlie still needed some rest, but they'd said he would be ready to be discharged in two or at most three days’ time.

  “Thanks for staying with me,” he called to Zoe as she stood at the door. “I know you didn’t need to be here, but I appreciate the company.”

  She smiled at him but didn’t say a word. She liked Charlie, this incident only forcing her to make up her mind about him. Wh
en she’d been flying over, when it was all still in doubt as to who had died and who had survived, she knew then that she’d be hurting if she found out it was Charlie in the morgue. The loss of Anya was unfortunate but for her to have lost Charlie would have been heart-breaking.

  She’d stayed with him every day, Charlie not even conscious the first day when she sat holding his hand in hers, whispering to him. She’d been the one breaking the difficult news to him, talking through the events, as he had the energy. He’d woken dazed, confused. Today had been the clearest she’d heard him speak since she’d arrived in Switzerland. She would leave now, in search of information on who had been watching Charlie from that van of which he'd referred. She would start by asking his boss at MI6 for how to go about tracking the vehicle. She hadn’t yet requested a transfer from Scotland Yard, but it wouldn’t be too long before she’d get around to doing so. This was her world now.

  It was a fresh new day, and Charlie was up and about, discharged from the hospital where he’d been recovering for seven days following the explosion in his hotel room. Physically he was back, just a few burns that would take a little longer to heal. Emotionally it was unclear where he was at, as he’d not spoken to anyone much about that side of things.

  Zoe had been searching for information. She had actually been sent something in the mail the day before, a surprise package, but it detailed everything she’d been looking into. She went through the information carefully, checking it with the MI6 database, as she was able, confirming the significance of the intelligence she was reading. She took it with her as she was collecting Charlie from the hospital, pulling up at the main entrance as he was walking out through the door towards her.

  “I was wondering who might be here waiting for me,” he said, as he opened the door and lowered himself carefully into the passenger seat.

  “Who else could it have been?” she smiled, pulling away as soon as he’d belted up. She threw the pile of information onto his lap.

  “What’s this?” he said, opening up the file.

  “It’s everything we could get on the team that were watching you.”

  There was a lot of information, and Charlie scanned through it all. FSB profile pages of the various agents involved, maps of their surveillance, reports from their listening devices. Everything. It was very thorough.

  “Where did you get this from?” Charlie said, turning to Zoe.

  “I can get to that later. But it’s good, isn’t it.”

  “It’s got everything I need.”

  “So what do you want to do about it?” she said. She wanted to ask what they were going to do about it but hadn’t got around to talking about her plans for joining MI6 quite yet.

  “I’m going to find them,” he said, without any emotion. The information in front of him stated this team were still in the country, as their central European base was not far from Zurich.

  “You’ll probably be wanting this then,” and with her right arm she reached back and slapped a sports bag on the back seat, which Charlie hadn’t spotted. He knew the bag well.

  “My guns!” he smiled as if welcoming a family pet after a long absence. He pulled the bag onto his lap and opened it up. There were three weapons inside, two small handguns and a much bigger assault weapon, three fully loaded cartridges also inside the bag. There were also two boxes of ammunition for the handguns. All three weapons were standard issue MI6 firearms, but each agent always made them their own, customising them as they needed. Charlie could take it apart in the dark and reassemble it in less than thirty seconds. Just holding the smallest weapon in his hand, he could tell how many bullets he had left by its weight alone. That knowledge had saved his life on at least one occasion.

  Zoe sped them out of town, and though they were heading towards the airport, she had no intention of catching a flight just yet.

  “So where are we going?” Charlie said at last, happy to have his bag of weapons and the information he now needed on the men who had nearly killed him and destroyed the life of Anya.

  “Oh, you’ll see in just a moment,” she said and with that Charlie just put his head back, watching the countryside speed by the window.

  Ten minutes later they pulled up at an isolated terminal in the airport, the sort used by private jets and diplomats. Having cleared security, she positioned the car alongside one such jet, the stairway already open. Charlie was going to ask what it was all about, but didn’t need to, as walking down the steps was his boss from MI6. The car stopped, and Charlie got out and stretched.

  “You look well, Charlie Boon!”

  “As well as I can be, sir. So, what’s all this about? Since when has MI6 been flying private jets?”

  “Occasionally,” he smiled back. “Probably more than you realise. Anyway, we’re docked here all day. Due to fly out this evening. You are expected on board when we depart. Between now and then I think you have a little mission to run, no?”

  Charlie knew what he meant exactly.

  “What time are we flying this evening?” he said.

  “Six-thirty okay for you?”

  “Yes, I’ll see you then.”

  “And, be careful, Charlie.” His boss turned to walk back up the stairs.

  “You know me,” Charlie called back, turning to get back into the car, Zoe doing the same.

  “So, where to, partner?” she said.

  “Partner, is it?” He didn’t seem too bothered, in fact, he was smiling.

  “You don’t mind, then?”

  “I was expecting it sooner or later. I saw it in your eyes back in London. You’ve got a taste for it, haven’t you?”

  “I think I have.”

  “So let’s go get these bastards, okay?”

  She pulled away without saying anything. Both were deep in thought, Charlie now looking through the information she’d given him in more detail. Someone had done a comprehensive job on it all. It detailed the three-man team the FSB had sent to watch Charlie. One was an explosives expert, and two were there for the muscle though they were also experienced field agents. Charlie recognised one man from the photos, the same one he’d seen taking a cigarette next to the black van. All three were actually Bulgarian in nationality, though they had been working for the Russians for many years. Just another FSB team on European soil.

  The information that Charlie had on his lap gave details of a base camp on the edges of the city. There was an aerial satellite photo of the building, flanked by trees and green fields, no apparent neighbouring property within three hundred metres. Perfect. He programmed the details into the car’s navigation system, the directions indicating that they were fifteen minutes away.

  “So how is this going to go?” Zoe said after a short silence. Charlie had clearly been thinking things through.

  “It’s always vital to take our time. Survey the ground, understand their territory. We have four hours before we need to be heading to the airport, that should give us plenty of time to stake out the place and then make our move.”

  “Make our move?”

  “Come on Zoe; we aren’t here to talk shop, now, are we?”

  “You’re going to kill them all, right?” She wasn’t afraid of the answer, but was new to it and wanted to be clear where they stood.

  “Absolutely. That is all I am here to do. They tried to kill me, and, they did kill An....” But he couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “I’m with you totally,” she said, aware that there was still a lot he’d have to get off his chest at a later point, not knowing if she was the best person to help do that for him. For now, the anger and pain would no doubt make the next few hours easier. He seemed focused, more driven than she’d ever known him to be. She liked this side of him very much, even if the circumstances leading up to it were unfortunate.

  Twenty kilometres later they were approaching the house. It sat on several acres of land. A dense group of pine trees sat on the far side. From where they were parked they could not see through the trees. The tr
ees themselves were maybe just thirty metres, give or take, from the property. The trees would give them a good spot from where to watch. He instructed Zoe to drive past the house, parking up some way further down the road, now well out of sight.

  32

  In St Petersburg, it had all come to light about Anya’s involvement in the situation in Zurich. Sasha, a male colleague and friend of Anya’s, had been called in to investigate. Initially, following the discovery that she was not in her office as previously thought, he’d come in to help out. What he hadn’t let on was that she’d posted him something, to be opened in the circumstance of her disappearance. While it was a surprise, following the news she had not been seen in a few days, he’d opened the package and caught up with everything with which she’d been involved.

  Sasha, in his late twenties and from the Caucasus, had known Anya for some time. They’d worked together twice, but now, due to both of them running their own offices, tended to work much more independently. It was Sasha, therefore, who had sent MI6 everything they’d received as to the whereabouts of the team that had planted the bomb in Zurich. Zoe’s details had been included in Anya’s information which she had posted to Sasha, detailing who to connect with in case it was needed.

  Sadly, that moment had come. The FSB had done a good job at covering its tracks, but the events from the last two weeks had left them exposed. The deaths in the Kremlin, the public trial, even the power gap left in the Moscow scene, was all starting to make waves.

  Sasha was a different type of agent from the sort Anya had been, coming from a very different world. His parents were not connected people, as Anya’s so obviously were, in fact, his actual parents were not on the scene at all. A rare success story from the orphanages, he’d been one of the lucky ones adopted by a Ukrainian/Russian couple shortly before his eighth birthday. Most children his age never would get adopted, already seen as too old, and already permanently affected by the system in which they had grown up.