‘Fine. Lose the balaclavas as you walk through the hotel,’ Shredder said.
They turned back towards the doors, tucked the balaclavas into their jackets and hid their weapons. Matt Hagen walked through the double glass doors of the restaurant. He was still wringing his hands of excess water from the washroom when his eyes flicked to the bodies of the three men then back to Killey and Shredder, who were walking towards him.
The panic in the man’s eyes as he reached for the phantom pistol that wasn’t on his belt sparked Shredder into action. ‘It’s him,’ he said and reached inside his jacket for the Sig.
Matt spun around and pushed his way through the glass doors as Killey and Shredder fired after him, shattering the doors into a thousand pieces. By the time they reached the restaurant door frame and looked out, Matt Hagen had disappeared through the main hotel doors and into the night.
Killey reached the front stairs outside the hotel first and fired three suppressed shots after the vanishing man. ‘Jesus, he’s quick.’
Both of them set off through the parked cars and quickly reached the small perimeter wall that they jumped over before crossing the tarred road.
‘You sure he came this way?’ Shredder said.
‘Yes. He was like bloody lightning and jumped this wall like a kangaroo,’ Killey said, jumping up onto the brick wall that surrounded a large redbrick house. ‘You coming or what?’
‘I’ll head around the wall to the left and meet you out front. Take care, I don’t think he is armed, but he might still be hiding somewhere.’
A minute later they met in the front yard of the house looking in either direction of the wealthy suburban road. ‘Damn it. He could be anywhere,’ Killey said.
‘We don’t have time to look around either,’ Shredder said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
• • •
‘I am afraid those are only the military charges, Gibbs,’ Captain Matthews said, sitting next to the hospital bed, a worried look on her face. Despite being professional about the whole affair, Gibbs could see she’d been crying, and he longed to reach up and wipe her cheek, but the handcuffs restrained him.
‘Accompanied with your previous indiscretions, I am afraid you’ll be given a dishonourable discharge.’
‘That’s okay, Sharon. I am done with the military.’
‘As I said earlier, Gibbs, that’s not your main problem.’
‘Have you missed me?’ he asked, taking her hand.
‘Of course I have, Gibbs, but I need you to focus for a bit,’ she said.
‘I am focused. You said they were going to throw the book at me, so I am expecting to be discharged, and then I’ll spend all my time focusing on that great body of yours.’
Sharon blushed a bright red, glancing across at the military nurse who was standing at the side of the room staring at them. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
‘Gibbs, I’m trying to tell you something, but you aren’t bloody listening. Once you are discharged, you will be handed over to the civilian police for the murder of Mason Waterfield and four others.’
‘What?’ Gibbs said. ‘You’re joking, right? That’s a load of crap. Mason was assassinated by two or three snipers right after I went down. I managed to kill one of the snipers who was shooting at us.’
‘That is not what the JAG or civilian prosecutors are saying. They’ve built up quite a case against you and have a lot of evidence. The worst news is that they claim to have an eyewitness who saw you do it.’
‘Do I look like a murderer to you? I’m a bloody soldier.’
‘I know that, but it seems somebody high up in the government wants you to stand trial for this, and the military is intent on helping them out by handing you over. Usually, we’d be ordered to keep this an in-house affair, but I am afraid that your enemies want to see you in court.’
‘This is another set-up, Sharon. I didn’t kill Mason Waterfield. Has your ex-boyfriend been able to get to the bottom of what role Mountford played in Angola yet? Mason was unaware that Mountford had hired that prick Warren to go out to Angola, even though he was the chairman of this bloody Billionaires Club. He said he was going to look into it just before they took him out.’
‘It’s all cloak and dagger stuff,’ she said. ‘Anyway, Mason is dead now.’
Gibbs shook his head a little. ‘Oh yes of course. You have to believe me when I say that I didn’t do this, I mean, why would I kill Mason and three of his men, and then shoot myself? I needed him alive to get answers.’
Sharon squeezed his hand again. ‘I believe you, Gibbs.’
‘Where are Shredder and Killey?’
‘Haven’t you heard? They’re in custody for the murders of John Warren and two of his men.’
‘Jesus, what has been happening out there while I have been under? Don’t get me wrong, I am glad the idiot is dead but not at the expense of the boys going to prison. What will happen to them?’
‘I am not representing them personally, but from what I heard they claim that they had an anonymous tip-off that John Warren and his men were responsible for killing you, so they took the law into their own hands to avenge your death.’
‘But I was lying right here in the hospital!’ Gibbs said, his voice raised. ‘Why didn’t they just come and see me?’
‘They claim that they didn’t know you were still alive. No one told them.’
Memories in his brain merged and aligned. He’d just recognised the shrill voice of the man who had knocked him out in the wooded area.
‘Warren!’ Gibbs said. ‘I recognise his voice now. He was the one who knocked me out cold, so he obviously had something to do with the attack.’
‘Are you sure it was him?’ she asked.
‘Yes. He and his team must have been used as pawns to get rid of Mason and me before we could reveal who was responsible for trying to silence us. We need your ex to dig deeper into Mountford as I’m sure he’s at the bottom of this.’
‘I’ll chat with him again and see what he says. If I find anything, I’ll give it to the prosecutor for the civil case. I am afraid it won’t help Shredder and Killey because they have already pleaded guilty to John Warren’s murder.’
‘What will happen to them?’
‘The same as you. They’re due to stand trial in a civilian court in a week,’ she said.
‘This is bloody ridiculous, Sharon. We’re being set up for crimes we didn’t commit.’
Sharon got up to leave the room. She leant down and kissed him on the lips. ‘Gibbs, I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ll speak to my ex. Give me a few days.’
Chapter 29
Trafalgar Square, London, England UK - 2019
The tall figure of John Mountford crouched over his small desk, engrossed in the long debriefing report prepared by David Kirkwood. He eagerly paged through the thick document, the yellow light from his desk lamp giving his pale complexion a jaundiced appearance. A wry smile spread across his face as he scanned the pages of the dossier before him. Things were aligning themselves neatly.
Movement in front of his desk shifted his gaze to the tall man who’d entered the room.
‘Thanks for bringing me the report, Markus. It seems that the loose ends are all being tied.’
The German bowed his head a little.
‘Has all the correspondence from this office to Mason’s office been destroyed?’
‘Yes, Mr Mountford.’
‘I take it that the same has been done at the other Billionaire members’ offices? There can be no trace or evidence of his death leading back to any of us.’
‘As I said, it has been taken care of, sir.’
‘Thanks, Markus. I’m not questioning your abilities at all. I simply want to make sure nothing comes back to bite us in the arse.’
The tall blond soldier stared at him.
‘Do you know whether your employer had anything to do with framing the mercenaries who assassinated Mason?’
‘No, sir, h
e did not,’ Markus said.
‘Are you quite certain?’ John asked, staring into the German’s ice blue eyes. ‘Everything seems to have worked out so well, I’d have thought that only someone with Lord Butler’s contacts could have pulled it off.’
‘Lord Butler does not order the murder of innocent men. He only passed on the intelligence to you and Captain Warren to do with it as you wished. He had nothing to do with the framing of anybody either. You should speak to Mr Kirkwood about that.’
‘Fair enough. If you say so,’ John said. ‘I’ll take it up with David when I get hold of him. He seems to have disappeared. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’
Markus turned and walked across the small dark office, opening the door. ‘We have to leave now, Mr Mountford. The security convoy will not be able to wait much longer.’
‘Ah yes. The inaugural meeting of Lord Butler’s brand new Phoenix Council,’ John said. ‘You know it’s just the same organisation of old codgers incapable of organising a piss-up in a brewery. All this effort just for a little rebranding. What’s the bloody point?’
Markus remained silent in the doorway.
They exited the building and pushed their way past the assembled mob of beggars to the parked armoured vehicle. The cacophony of shrieks, shouts, and death threats from the street dwellers frightened John as he cowered behind Markus on the way to the vehicle’s door.
‘Markus? Help me.’ He shrieked and pulled away as someone grabbed him by his jacket sleeve.
The German leaned across and punched the man before grabbing John by the neck and marching him towards the door of the vehicle, which opened as they approached. John felt the sheer strength of the soldier as he was shoved into the back of the Land Rover, followed by his luggage.
He sat on an uncomfortable seat in the back of a modified Land Rover troop carrier, unable to see the outside world due to all the armour plating welded into the window frames. The two armoured vehicles set off on their five-mile journey to the meeting at the Phoenix Council headquarters in Canary Wharf, passing the empty carcasses of vandalised buildings and countless burnt out cars along the route. Surges of brown water had started to flow over the embankment walls designed to hold the Thames River back. They were starting to fail, so an alternate route would be needed.
John jumped as something slammed into the side panelling of the Land Rover. ‘What the fuck was that?’
‘Probably just a brick or something, sir. We get pelted all the time. Don’t worry, we’re protected by metal that is an inch thick,’ the driver said, as he dodged a small group of street urchins.
The Land Rover unexpectedly lurched, then swerved and slowed to a halt. ‘Sorry, sir. I think we have something wrong with the engine,’ the driver said.
• • •
Markus Schmidt rubbed his oversized hands on his knees to dry off the perspiration and reached into his green army jacket to pull out his favourite weapon. He loved the feel of the Sig 226 as it sat in his open palm. He quickly checked the silencer tension, popped out the magazine to check the rounds then slammed it back in.
The driver who had sat silently next to him through the first part of the journey turned to him. ’Mate, that is the third time you have done that. I think we can safely assume that it’s still loaded.’
Markus glared across at him, his piercing gaze forcing the man to focus on the road again. ‘Mind your own business, or I’ll make sure you’re out on the street scratching a living. Get ready as it’s going to happen around the next corner.’
They followed the lead Land Rover around the corner, swerving for a broken, deserted refuse truck. A teenager wearing an oversized bomber jacket and dirty, ripped jeans ran out from behind an old bus stop and threw a brick.
Markus watched it bounce off the side of the vehicle and break up on the tarmac below the back wheel. The Land Rover lurched to the left then slowed to a halt as planned. Markus stepped out of his vehicle before it had fully stopped.
‘Keep the engine running.’
He walked up to the back door of the lead vehicle and banged on it twice with his left hand, letting the occupants know that he was about to open it. The heavy latch usually took some effort to open, but not for the big man, who swung open the metal door and raised his pistol.
‘Markus? What the—’
With barely any recoil, Markus fired three rounds into John Mountford’s chest. He dragged the body from the vehicle and impassively dumped it onto the pavement then calmly reached into the vehicle to grab the dead billionaire’s two Louis Vuitton suitcases. With a big heave, he threw them to the small group of street dwellers who were rapidly congregating. For a short while, he stood and stared dismissively at the prowling group of urchins who rifled through the luggage for valuable items.
A dishevelled teenager shuffled over to him. ‘Hey, mister, give us some spare cash?’
‘Keep moving, child,’ Markus said, waving him off with a flick of the Sig.
‘It might be in your best interest to reconsider,’ the teenager replied, and puffed out his chest. ‘When the police come, I might be forced to tell them everything I saw.’
Markus’s eyes narrowed as he stared him. ‘You are right, of course.’
Raising the Sig, he shot the teenager in the head.
Shocked street kids stared at their friend who lay sprawled on the pavement, then turned to bury their heads in the luggage again.
Markus hit the speed dial on his phone. ‘It is done, sir.’
Chapter 30
Central Criminal Court, London, England, UK - 2019
‘May I remind you that you are still under oath, Mr Hagan,’ the prosecutor said as he walked towards the wooden witness box.
Matt Hagen looked down at his hands for a few seconds, and then Gibbs saw him slowly raise his head. Their eyes met. They stared at each other for a fleeting second, and it was long enough. There was turmoil and conflict raging within the young soldier. Gibbs felt sorry for the prosecutor’s chief witness, as it was clear that he’d been coached.
‘I’ll repeat the question. Can you identify the man who murdered Mason Waterfield?’
The witness sat in silence then looked at the back of the court where the public was sitting. Gibbs could see his eyes scanning for someone. Then Matt answered. ’Yes, it was that man.’
‘Let the record show that the witness has identified, Mr Kyle Gibbs, the accused.’
‘Bullshit,’ Gibbs shouted above the murmur from the public viewing area.
‘Silence,’ the judge said, smashing his gavel on the wooden bench top in front of him. ‘That’s the second outburst, Mr Gibbs. One more and you’ll watch proceedings from an isolated room.’
Shredder leaned across and whispered, ‘He was the one who got away the night we sorted John Warren out. Sorry, boss.’
‘It’s okay, mate. I have a feeling he was also the one skulking along the treeline the day they killed Mason. I should have got him then,’ Gibbs said.
• • •
The wooden bench in the dock was far from comfortable, and Gibbs shifted around again, letting out a loud breath as he looked around the court. He’d had better days. All three of the accused were sitting to the left of the judge, behind their three legal representatives. The jury had just been led back into the court from the adjacent room, and the volume of murmur in the courtroom increased. Gibbs smiled when he glanced across at Shredder and Killey, who were both trying desperately to stay awake. The whole trial had lasted ten days.
‘I thought the jury would’ve taken a little bit more time to deliberate,’ Gibbs said, leaning forward to talk to his barrister.
The man shrugged his shoulders. ‘With all the evidence they had against you, it wasn’t going to be tough, Mr Gibbs.’
‘Thanks for your effort. My apologies for keeping you from your round of golf, you jumped up old windbag.’
Shredder grabbed Gibbs by his shoulder. ‘Don’t take it out on him, boss. They paid all the
right people to sink us, even our bloody lawyers.’
Gibbs leant back and kicked out at the wooden partition in front of him.
A smartly dressed clerk of the court walked over and gave Gibbs’s lawyer a folded piece of white paper. The old man turned and scowled at Gibbs before passing it over.
You should have a good think about all the recent events to find the man who orchestrated this all – D.K.
Gibbs frowned at the note and turned it over to see if there was anything else written on it. He looked up and scanned the faces of the people in the packed viewing gallery at the back of the court. Sitting smugly in an aisle seat was the grinning culprit. David Kirkwood.
Gibbs pointed at the man.
Kirkwood smiled and tapped his chest.
‘Bastard!’ shouted Gibbs and launched over the short partition in front of him. He landed next to his shocked barrister, and with three long strides, ran towards the main partition that separated the court procedures from the viewing area. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two court security officers spring into action and start running towards him. As he reached the partition and jumped over, he felt a hand grip his arm. The force of the grip pulled him off balance, and he was spun around in mid-air. He landed on the other side of the partition facing a bald, snarling security officer. Gibbs lashed out with a vicious punch, and the officer groaned as a fist thudded into his jaw, causing him to release his grip just enough to allow Gibbs to yank his arm away. He turned back towards Kirkwood again just as the second officer reached across his falling comrade to try and catch the escaping man.
Gibbs’s target had seen him coming and jumped up out of his seat and made for the large double wooden doors at the back of the court. Even though he was no athlete, being of slender build and smartly dressed, the fear drove him on, and he reached the doors ahead of Gibbs. The large, solid court doors had to be opened inwards and would take some effort. Kirkwood had just slipped through when Gibbs rugby-tackled him. They both slid a few meters across the black and white checked tile floor outside the courtroom before Gibbs managed to get a handful of Kirkwood’s hair. Twice he smashed the man’s face onto the hard floor before being ripped away by three court security officers. Kirkwood rolled onto his back wailing as he clutched his bleeding nose. He rolled back into a foetal position, screaming even louder.
The Journey of Kyle Gibbs Box Set Page 18