Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  The first Robert heard of the sinister turn of events was when the captain announced the aeroplane was being redirected to land in Paris due to terrorist strikes in England. Grounded now at Charles de Gaulle airport, Robert, like thousands of other stranded passengers, watched in horror at the scenes shown from London on the giant television screens suspended high up on the walls. Knowing at once what it was, the only person other than Nigel who did know, Robert left the airport, desperate to get out to the coast. He realised there was no way he’d be getting into the UK by plane or train, as the country was probably already shut down with borders all closed. What he needed was a fast boat which he’d use to get him into one of the small coves on the South coast, and then he needed Tommy to meet him somehow down there if that was at all possible.

  Having hailed a cab, he pulled out his phone to call Tommy:

  “Hi, it’s me. Have you seen the news?”

  “Yes, the whole nation is in uproar. Where are you?”

  “Grounded in Paris. I’m heading to the coast. Are you driving?”

  A moment later, having stopped, Tommy answered:

  “Yes, we got moving as soon as we heard the news. We figured there would be no way that you would be coming in by plane, so we’re heading south, aiming to skirt down through Oxford and around, picking up the M3 and then along the coast. You planning to come in by boat?”

  Robert was impressed with their forward thinking, the brains of that once excellent football manager still there, showing what a great tactician he was.

  “Brilliant, I’ll call you when I’m moving. Stay safe Tommy, send my regards to Jessica. I’ll see you some point later today.”

  “You can count on it.”

  The cab driver had made significant progress, pulling into the seaside town of Dieppe on the north-western coast of France. The Newhaven to Dieppe ferry route worked from the harbour there, and Robert knew that many private boats were at anchor on the Quai Henri IV, which was a playground for the rich in that part of France, as it gave excellent access to the Channel. At speed in the right boat, the journey time to somewhere along the coast between Hastings and Brighton would be around two and a half to three hours. As Robert paid the cab driver, leaving a generous tip, he was pleased to find the place reasonably quiet, the day’s events in England meaning that the usually busy streets and harbour were much quieter while people watched their screens, wondering what it all meant.

  Sizing up the boats, Robert selected a small seagoing speedboat that sat on its own on the far end of the quay; a new-looking Grew 200 GRS Cuddy, which at just under twenty feet in length would suit his requirements entirely. Nobody was around as Robert worked the lock smoothly with a state of the art penknife, yet to be released, which he’d brought back with him and now carried around all the time. He was also then able to use it to get the thing started, the engine racing into life with no effort at all.

  Robert was off and out within ten minutes, the coordinates set on the boat’s built-in mapping device that would guide it all the way. Life seemingly carried him along now, as if he had no choice in the matter, instead merely playing along with where it took him. He gave Tommy a call after a few minutes to check on his progress, which had been good up to then, finishing the call before he turned on the boat’s radio to catch the World Service report from the BBC. The sea was calm. He hoped if things remained that way to be somewhere off the English south coast within two hours.

  This is the BBC World Service, the lady said, the voice coming through crystal clear from the radio mounted into the expensive-looking control panel. The attacks have continued in the south of England, a circle of destruction it seems sweeping around the capital in what has already become the worst terrorist attack of all time. Since starting at Amersham and Wendover just after half past seven this morning, twenty-five separate explosions have been recorded, working their way clockwise around London so that destruction has nearly reached the Thames crossing. The towns of Brentwood and Billericay were the last to have been struck, with total devastation everywhere between the two towns. The populations of all the towns and villages struck so far are estimated at anywhere between one million and three million, bearing in mind the morning commute with people making their way into or out of the capital. Twelve commuter trains are already confirmed destroyed, and the country’s transport routes have all been closed down, planes grounded both in the UK and right across Europe and further afield.

  The Government has put the country on a state of high alert… Robert switched off the radio, having heard enough. Viewing London as a clock-face, the first bombs had landed in the ten or eleven o’clock position and had since swept around to about three o’clock. The village of Dunsfold, where Robert’s Door existed, was at about the eight o’clock position. Robert had no way of knowing if Dunsfold was in the firing line, or even if he could get there in time.

  There was no doubt though that Nigel was directly behind this attack, out somewhere in Europe or beyond, fighting from afar, giving it everything he had in one desperate last effort to stop Robert.

  With the radio off and the isolation of the sea now calming Robert, he knew it was time to speak to Brendan again. Maybe he held the one final chance to stop all this from continuing by getting to Nigel, though part of him doubted that. He did, however, want to know that Tommy and Jessica would be safe, as it would undoubtedly soon come to light if it had not done so already, that they’d helped him.

  Brendan answered the call quite quickly, sitting in the back of one of Nigel’s chauffeur driven cars, on the way to Nigel’s house.

  “You have some nerve calling me,” Brendan said in surprise, once he was aware it was Robert.

  “Well, I wanted you to know that I’m not holding a grudge.”

  Brendan smiled at the comment of a man he’d two days ago tried to have killed. Robert continued:

  “Have you been watching the news?” Brendan hadn’t, never really one for TV at that time of day and with the car coming to pick him up he’d been surprisingly cut off from everything.

  “I’ll take the pause to mean you haven’t. Nigel is setting the country ablaze in his desperate race to stop me. Half the suburbs of London have been bombed, with a dirty but lethal weapon he brought back here with him for this very purpose.”

  Brendan now had heard it all, and though it sounded unheard of, it also seemed plausible. Nothing shocked him anymore, Brendan's emotions pushed too far in all directions to ever be the same again.

  “I’m sorry for what happened, you know,” Brendan said, the first sign that cracks were beginning to appear. “I genuinely meant what I said that I would work with you. It’s just that Nigel knew all about it, had even planned for it. He threatened my whole family, told me of the illness that would kill them all. He played your life off against theirs and millions of others. What was I to do? I guess it’s all lost now anyway if what you’ve just said is true?”

  It was all starting to come together in Robert’s head as the boat pressed into the sea.

  “He told you about the Digital Disease, right?”

  “Yes, everything. The millions who would die, including my family. How I’d be old and alone. How he had the cure and would release it years early, in this time, saving them all, including my family. And he would do that if I handed you over. That was when you then asked to meet me. He knew about it and ordered that I carry out his wishes.”

  Robert shook his head as Katie’s face flashed once more into his mind, the waste of a life in such an incident. Of course, it was quite obvious now, a half-truth said like that would have a massive impact on such a man as Brendan who valued his family above all things, including wealth. Brendan always had, which Nigel undoubtedly knew would be his weakest point.

  “Look, he lied to you, Brendan, as always. Whatever he said, forget it, not that it’ll matter much now, and listen to this. It’s true about the disease, and that million were infected, and while the cure doesn’t exist today as he had told you, i
t is only about ten years or so before it will be discovered and made widespread. That would be plenty enough time for your family to be made well, without any loss.”

  Brendan sank his head into his hands, coming to terms with what he had done, the truth knocking great holes into his heart even at that moment, completely aware that what Robert was telling him would indeed be the truth.

  “And what’s more, Brendan, he didn’t tell you about a tumour in your brain that if untreated kills you in twelve years time, leaving your wife and kids alone.”

  “I have a tumour?!”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Brendan, but you have to trust me here.”

  “I can’t believe I listened to him and yet he knew exactly how to stop me.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. Nigel targeted you, so your life was screwed the moment he showed up.”

  “So there’s no hope then for any of us?”

  “Oh, believe me, there’s hope.”

  Robert wasn’t about to say anything more, aware that Nigel would reply the call before too long. Brendan also remembered at that moment where he was heading.

  “Look, Robert, I think I can help. Good luck to you wherever you end up.”

  “Be careful, Brendan,” Robert finished, the line going dead. Brendan’s driver pulled into the main gates just moments later, through the security controlled entrance and up the long drive, the first time Brendan had seen his boss’s residence. Now was the perfect time to settle the score. Whatever happened, Nigel would be finished.

  Pulling up to the main door, the driver jumped out and opened the rear passenger door for him. Brendan got out slowly and stretched after the long drive, looking up at the vast and beautiful house that stood before him.

  He walked up the steps alone, opened the main doors and worked his way down the corridor, ready for anything, more focused than he had ever been about anything in his life, finally about to rid the world of Nigel. Pausing at the door, he pulled a knife from his pocket, hiding it in his hand, took a breath and opened the door.

  The explosion knocked him to the ground, killing him instantly, his place in life gone in the blink of an eye. The whole middle section of the house started collapsing, bricks crumbling as fire raged around the expensive furnishings.

  31

  Robert could see the English coast now in the distance, aiming himself somewhere west of Worthing. He knew the coastline quite well from his youth, as he and the other parentless children who had become his family, had been taken for rare excursions to play on the beaches and for walks. Just the other side of Littlehampton was a golf course, and beyond that, further along the coast, the fields had remained in Robert’s time, all entirely peaceful, and so now if anything it would be even quieter. Boats were quite common off the shores there, as the marina in Littlehampton was another hotbed for expensive yachts.

  Slowing the engine slightly on the boat to call Tommy, the call was answered straight away as they’d had another stop, Jessica at that moment buying something to help in a local chemist.

  “How are you doing, Robert?”

  “I’m making good time. I’m a few miles off the coast, south of Littlehampton. How are you getting on?”

  “We’re through the worst, probably about an hour from you now. Only one roadblock which we managed to avoid. Jess is just in the shop now trying to buy something to settle her stomach, I think.”

  “Okay. Look, when you get near, keep west of the river that runs through the town. You should see signs for the golf course which will pull you in near enough to me. There are a few roads that run right along the coast there, starting at the end of the golf course where it meets the fields. If you don’t see me, call me when you get there. I don’t expect any trouble getting ashore, but you never can be too careful.”

  “Great. Look, I can see Jess is paying for something now so we’ll get moving as soon as we can. You keep safe, and we’ll see you in about an hour.”

  “Thanks, Tommy. It’ll all be over soon.”

  “And where will that leave us?”

  Robert thought about saying more but paused.

  “You’ll be okay, my friend, you’ll be okay. See you in an hour and don’t be late!”

  Robert hung up and looked out across the sea, spotting a ship in the distance that possibly could be the coast guard. Picking up speed again, Robert took over the manual controls of the boat as he headed in the last couple of miles that would take him to the shore, not wanting to waste any time or take any further chances.

  The missiles into England continued to rain down, taking out the QE II bridge, before the area of destruction widened. Given the vast number of outlying villages across north Kent, Nigel had decided to take no chances, laying waste a twenty-mile area, reaching out from the M25 to Gravesend and Sevenoaks and destroying everything in between.

  As with a rampaging hurricane, people had started to predict the path of destruction and the surviving villages and towns were quickly abandoned by most. The few who remained were either too shocked or too old to move or wishing to loot the empty houses in some ill thought out plan. Most people had moved out away from London, fearing being cut off completely, but plenty also, for fear of not making it out in time, moved in towards the centre, the bustling millions now united in a way that nothing had joined them before. The already over-stretched armed forces were at a complete loss as to what to do. They were on the streets, trying to help as much as they could, but each of them was only too aware of their potential losses, scared for their safety, against an enemy as yet unknown, with no idea as to how to stop them. The RAF was in the skies that were effectively shut down to any other traffic. The only confirmation that missiles were the cause of the on-going attack was when one of their jets was struck by one, exploding mid-air, with no hint of a warning of any incoming hostile fire.

  All general-public movement was banned but with so few to enforce it, coupled with the human desire to save oneself when in the line of fire, the roads were busy, the brief roadblocks in place unmanageable compared to the sheer weight of the departure of those wishing to flee.

  Robert turned the radio off again when he heard that the attacks were still some way from his village, slowing as he approached much shallower waters. Whatever boat he had spotted did indeed seem to be coming his way, gaining on him all the time as Robert came in as near as possible. Robert was cautious of the sharp and dangerous rocks that were not far under the surface. He was near enough to the shore to make a swim for it possible, but that was the less favourable option.

  Getting in as close as he dared, he grabbed his things and decided abandon ship, darting around the front of the boat, trying to remain undetected from his pursuer. He could hear the sound of an outboard motor boat now coming towards him.

  Just before jumping in, he glanced back to see the Royal Navy boat some two hundred metres back and an inflatable boat racing towards him, only some fifty metres or so away. As he waded through the water, which came almost up to his neck, slipping on a rock and going under for a moment, he rose to hear them shouting from the boat, telling him they would open fire if he didn’t show himself straight away. They informed him that his ship had been tracked leaving France and any attempt to get ashore was a criminal violation. The water was so cold, and for a moment the voices faded before gunshots sounded, apparently fired into the sky as they followed by saying this was his last chance and he should show himself with his arms raised. The instruction was then repeated in French, which made sense. It only was when Robert was through the worst of it, now wading just waist deep towards the shore, that they spotted him. The outboard motorboat picked up speed and was able to come a lot nearer than he’d got, but even they would have to stop or go another way, the rocks just too dangerous to risk going all the way.

  A burst of fire sounded again, Robert feeling it not too far above his head, as threats got repeated, his pursuers now only just jumping out of the boat, still some twenty or thirty metres from shore.


  Robert didn’t waste time in looking around, running as fast as he could up the stony beach. He got to the road that ran along the edge, making to go left before darting into the cover of some trees, turning right instead along the side of a field and up towards a house Robert spotted. There was a camping ground alongside it and a wooded area of oak and ash trees beyond.

  Five minutes later he was in the wood, a small trail leading both left and right, and he paused behind a large tree, no sign of the Navy guys who’d been chasing, but he realised that the area would soon be in total lockdown, with dogs and all sorts combing every inch. There was no way that Tommy would be able to get through. So Robert, having got his breath back a little, and taking off his top layer of soaking wet clothes, buried them as best he could for the dogs to no doubt find later. Robert then got moving again, heading east along the wood which came out after the large house that was apparently home to the campsite. Then there was a one hundred metre stretch of exposed road which he had no choice but to run across, getting away unseen, before he went up a hedge-lined track between two fields. The hedges gave suitable cover so that Robert could run quite fast, taking a right at the top and coming out eventually at the back of some houses, before making his way onto the road and then across a bridge that took him over the water again. The train tracks just ahead of him on the other side of the main street confirmed to him that he had made it into Littlehampton. The town spread around Robert now on every side, and it was the perfect place to dig in and wait for his pick up.