Chasing the Dragon

by Nick James

  And lastly, Pam Beacon, the renowned bag lady and coat maker, was at this moment having to be pulled off a prison officer’s neck as she tried to bite him.

  Mai Lee was starting to sweat. Would Sanderson come out of the lift with just his guard, or would he be surrounded? She counted off her shots: First breaks the window and hits the guard. Second hits Sanderson, or guard in case first is deflected. The third and final hits Sanderson if the second deflects.

  She could hear gentle snores coming from the small Suzie Q. The parties they had with Michael and Tony were legendary. Whoever said the Brits were uptight were wrong. Her phone then buzzed a text: Target’s car being made ready.

  Mai took her place and made herself comfortable. She flipped the shooting spot and sighted in on the bank of three lifts behind the reception desk. There was a short, well-turned-out woman discussing something with the receptionists. They seemed flustered.

  Bunny stood over the sitting stick insect. ‘I was told to be here at eleven to meet with Albert Kettering. Where is he?’ she demanded. Never in her whole time working in Canary Wharf had she witnessed such unprofessionalism.

  ‘I have called him, Miss Li, and he will be down shortly,’ the phone drone explained. ‘So, please take your seat again, he won’t be too long.’ She pointed to the chairs facing the reception desk and lifts.

  Just then, Peter Sanderson on the top floor walked into the lift, letting his bodyguard go in first. ‘C’mon, boys, time to get out of London and have some fun in the sun,’ he said, slapping his long-term and dedicated team.

  ‘Yes, sir. As usual, stay behind as we walk out and then go straight to the car,’ the tall, pale-skinned guard replied.

  Sanderson rolled his eyes. ‘I know, I know. If anything should happen, stay low and run to the car,’ he said in a mocking sing-song voice, although he knew they were just doing their jobs.

  ‘Exactly, boss,’ the dark-skinned man said. But in all their years they’d had no trouble, especially in the UK. His colleague then pressed the button for the foyer.

  Albert Kettering was looking at the lifts with a smile on his face. He had kept that bitch Li waiting for over ten minutes. She was going to be furious; that made him happy. He saw the middle lift on the move from the Sanderson floor, so he called for one of the others.

  As he entered and pressed the button for the foyer, the smile was still there. Dawny, the love of his life, had asked him to come back, and the Chinese mafia had backed off. Also, they managed to catch some Scrote in North Wales in a village called Benllech trying to hack into the company servers. ‘Take that, Taffy,’ he mumbled as the lift descended.

  ‘C’mon, Sam. Drink time,’ Mike said through the office door, making everyone but Sam jump – he just rubbed his hands.

  ‘Sounds good to me, boss. See ya, losers,’ Sam called out, only to see teamwork alive within the group as they were all sporting the middle finger at him. ‘Ha, love you, too,’ he retorted before heading off to the lifts.

  As they waited, Michael explained about a meeting with John, his boss, and Madison the CEO, and they were just as pissed off as Sam, especially for Kettering using company funds to pay his contacts in Hong Kong.

  They headed down in the lift with ‘Eye of the Tiger’ playing. Mike looked up. ‘Who sang this?’ he asked.

  ‘Survivor, from the Rocky film,’ Sam said happily while throwing punches at nothing.

  The older man chuckled. ‘Stupid name for a band.’

  ‘What about A-ha?’ Sam asked.

  ‘I stand corrected,’ Mike added as the lift doors opened.

  Sam saw Kettering first and took a step towards him. ‘Oi, prick,’ Sam spat, as Mike tried to grab him.

  Bunny Li was ready for a fight she was so pissed off. Then it got worse when she saw the bald git step out of the lifts. She checked her watch. He had made her wait fifteen minutes. Bunny stood up, but she saw her Sam with his boss, Mike. Then she saw her boyfriend make a lunge for the shit with Mike trying to stop him. She did love that man of hers.

  Mai Lee was praying to any god that everything would go like clockwork. According to the plans it was only the middle lift that went straight to the top of the building. She just hoped that they were right.

  Luckily, the distance they had to travel from the lifts to the car was long enough to adjust her fire. The hitwoman kept her breathing steady as the numbers above the lift doors counted down. She did notice a small scuffle by the lifts, but it shouldn’t matter to her, as long as they kept out of the way.

  The middle lift doors opened. ‘Perfect,’ Mai whispered. She then fired with hardly any noise, thanks to the sound suppressor. The window shattered covering the well-dressed brunette in glass, making her fall to the ground.

  The scope showed a white guard in her way. The next shot took him in his left shoulder, splattering the target and lift in blood and throwing the man to the floor. Then it was time. Mr Peter Sanderson was in the scope. She squeezed the trigger. The gun jumped as multiple shots flew towards the office building, throwing her off aim. ‘Fucckkkkkkk!’ She swept the scope and saw nothing. The target guard and even the scuffling trio were gone.

  ‘Suzie, time to go, slowly,’ ordered Mai as she made the gun safe and replaced the number plate.

  As the van drove away, Suzie looked back. ‘You get him?’

  Mai climbed into the front. ‘I think so – I hope so,’ she said, as they made their way through the busy streets.

  Officers Sharon Andrews and Bethany Harper were on their way to Canary Wharf off the book. They had to tell Sam about the fight at the tube station between his busker friends and another member of the public. That’s when the call came through over the radio.

  ‘All cars in the vicinity of Shimmering Dreams, Canary Wharf, shots fired, all services will be on site.’

  Bethany grabbed her radio. ‘Car zero-three-four on its way, ETA 1 minute, any casualties?’

  ‘Unknown, car zero-three-four, be careful.’

  When they arrived, they noticed a window broken, and they could hear screams and shouts coming from inside the foyer.

  ‘Where’s Sam?’ Bethany muttered, entering the building and taking in the scene of chaos before her.

  The Twiglets from reception were just screaming.

  Bunny got up and started to move. Other people were running, some towards and some away. A laugh escaped her when she saw the receptionists trying to run away in their stripper heels. She had to tell Sam later; he would take the piss out of them.

  But where was he? All she could see was dust and blood and several bodies on the ground. Some large man in sunglasses was dragging a suited man through the crowd and then pushed him into a waiting car, but she didn’t care about that.

  She stopped dead. It was carnage. A man who was dressed the same as the guy who had just left was lying flat in the elevator moaning and holding his shoulder. Bunny’s eyes shifted and saw the man Kettering with blood over his head. He wasn’t moving at all.

  The last two shocked her to the core. McAllister was pale and leaning against the wall with people holding clothing against two wounds in his chest. And there was her Sam, lying on the ground. He must have seen her, and this was just a joke they had planned. Some guy was giving him CPR.

  Bunny Li fell to the ground laughing then crying. ‘Okay, Sam, you wake up now,’ she said as the man pressed hard on Sam’s chest. ‘Please…wake up, Sam,’ she whispered to herself.

  Just then, the place was filled with police and ambulance crews. The man who was in on the joke with Sam was pushed away, making Bunny laugh again. The women in green took over.

  ‘Two women touching him in uniform, he’ll love it,’ she whispered to herself, although her mind was telling her that the man she loved was dying. She looked up at a police woman whom she recognised. ‘Beth, is he alive?’

  Beth looked at Bunny covered in blood. She guessed it was from the broken glass.

  Her partner, Sharon, ran over and grabbed Bunny. She trie
d to lift her up so she could walk her out, but she was putting up a fight, as ever. ‘C’mon, Bunny, there’s nothing you can do,’ Sharon said, trying to get her to an ambulance.

  ‘No! Beth, Beth, is Sam okay?’ Bunny cried out, locking eyes with the spiky-haired cop. ‘Beth, is he okay!’

  With tears in her eyes, Bethany looked at her friend. ‘I don’t know.’

  The End