by Chris Ryan
– This is what’s going to happen. When I give the word, Lukas, Abby and Sami must jump off the stage, leaving only four targets on the stage. The sniper teams will take shots at the window targets. Simultaneously, there will be an explosion beneath the stage and the team below will take out the targets on stage. That will neutralise all targets except one: the fake decoy. From what you say, he’s the only target without a suicide vest, but his weapon is probably loaded.
Time check: 13:57.
T1 looked at his watch, then stared straight ahead. T7 was still mumbling to himself. He caught Max’s eye and cocked his head strangely. Max looked away.
– We don’t know who the fake decoy is, so you’re going to have to move fast. There will be confusion, smoke and noise. There will be bright lights and loud bangs as the SAS team detonate flashbang grenades. This is to make the environment so confusing that the remaining target is too disorientated to harm the hostages. But we will have limited time to identify him or her. You must go through the room, demanding the decoys’ names. We will be able to hear their responses over the comms. If they give a correct name, we’ll tell you. Make them lie on their front with their hands on their heads. If you find a decoy who cannot answer the question correctly, you must do everything you can to overwhelm him or her. Get him on the ground and shout ‘Target’. One of the SAS team will find you and do the rest.
The words ‘do the rest’ had an awful note of finality about them. Max swallowed hard. He checked his watch again.
13:58.
They had two minutes. Maybe less.
– Are the targets still in position? Cough once for yes.
Cough.
– Then prepare for the strike. Assault team, stand by. Sniper teams, stand by. Lukas, Abby, Sami, get ready to jump. We are a go in three …
Maybe it had been a premonition. Maybe something Max had said had touched him. But in the fraction of a second before the order was given, T7 looked in his direction.
– Two …
Max remembered his words in the locker room – I have brother too. Back in Chechnya – and felt a momentary pang of sympathy.
– One …
Max’s eyes flickered anxiously towards the window behind T7’s head. T7 seemed to notice this. He cocked his head and threw himself to the ground.
– Go go go!
Everything seemed to happen at the same time. Lukas, Abby and Sami jumped to their feet and hurled themselves off the stage. There were shouts of alarm from the hostages. A fraction of a second later, there was an enormous explosion from the back of the stage and a flash of blinding light. It sent a physical jolt through Max’s body, as though somebody had pushed him hard. There was the distant retort of weapons, and the splintering of broken glass as the windows imploded. The blinds were breached on both sides of the hall by incoming sniper rounds. They were aimed precisely at the four targets that Max had identified. But only three had still been in place.
Out of the corner of his eye, Max was aware of gruesome explosions of blood and brain matter as three targets collapsed to the ground. Screams ripped through the air. Groups of hostages fled from the horrific sight of the bleeding corpses. Max’s attention, though, was all on the target who had not been hit by the sniper round intended for him. His attention was on T7.
The loose sniper round had slammed into the floor of the dining hall, just missing a child. More people started shouting in panic. The atmosphere in the room had deteriorated into panic. For Max, however, the voices of the other hostages receded in comparison to the commotion at the back of the stage. He looked up to see that it had collapsed in a billowing cloud of smoke. There was no sign of the targets who had been standing there, but it was immediately clear what their fate was: Max heard a sequence of four double shots as the hidden SAS team dealt with them, terminally.
So far, the assault had lasted less than five seconds. Already seven targets were dead.
That left two: T7, and the fake decoy.
Max was astonished by how quickly the smoke billowed out from the back of the stage. In an instant, the air in the hall was thick and choking. He could hardly breathe and couldn’t see more than a metre in front of him. He found himself shouting, ‘Seven targets down! Two targets remaining! One of them has a vest!’
For the first time there was a note of panic in Hector’s voice.
– FIND HIM. PUT HIM DOWN! REPEAT: PUT … HIM … DOWN!
Max jumped to his feet and spun round. There was such panic and chaos all around him. Kids yelling. Bodies pushing up against each other. He held his breath to stop the dust in the air getting into his lungs. He heard Lukas’s voice in his ear.
– Me and Abby are searching the north side. Sami and Max, take the south.
It was a good plan. ‘Roger that,’ Max agreed. He surged towards the south window of the hall. Almost immediately, he encountered a decoy. ‘State your name!’ he shouted over the deafening noise of and panic. ‘Tell me your name, now!’
The decoy did as she was told. ‘S-Sandra Wilkinson …’
Hector immediately gave an instruction over the comms.
– Confirmed. She’s a teacher. Get her on the ground.
‘Lie on your front with your hands on the back of your head!’ Max shouted at her. ‘Do it now or they’ll shoot you!’
The teacher didn’t need telling twice. She fell to the ground as if she had been shot. Over his comms earpiece, Max heard three other teachers being identified by Lukas, Abby and Sami.
– Helen Wilcox.
– Confirmed.
– Get on the ground!
– Jeremy Wood.
– Confirmed.
– Get down, now, or they’ll shoot!
– Ali McGuigan.
– Confirmed.
– Get on the ground, hands behind your head!
Max moved along the window towards the stage, feeling his way through the smoke. He felt something slippery underfoot. Looking down, he realised it was blood, oozing from the head of one of the targets who had been shot. He retched but kept moving. Five seconds later, he encountered another decoy. ‘State your name!’
The decoy said something but her words were lost as Lukas shouted over the comms.
– State your name!
No reply.
– STATE YOUR NAME!
Max’s decoy whispered something.
‘Alexandra Marriott.’
As Hector confirmed that she was a genuine teacher, Max pushed her to the ground and spun round. The dust was clearing somewhat. The hostages were all crowding at the back of the hall, away from the stage, though some of the younger ones, too terrified to move, were still huddled in the middle of the hall. Through watering eyes, Max could see Lukas clutching one of the decoys by the front of their overalls. The decoy was taller and broader than Lukas. He was kicking out. But Lukas, smaller though he was, was plainly stronger. He had the decoy on the ground in seconds, and was ripping off his balaclava.
To Max’s right was the stage, demolished by the explosion. Emerging from the rubble, however, were four figures. Max could tell that they were not terrorists. They were dressed in camouflage gear, with military helmets, protective goggles and respirator masks. They wore heavy tactical vests and backpacks with antennae pointing out. And they carried assault rifles, the butts pressed into their shoulders, the barrels scanning the room as the gunmen searched the chaos for targets. Red laser sights cut through the smoke. The SAS had arrived. They looked like killing machines.
Max couldn’t see Abby or Sami, but he could hear them. Over comms they were identifying two more teachers. It meant all the genuine teachers were accounted for. Lukas’s guy had to be the fake decoy. He had to be a target.
‘It’s him!’ Lukas shouted. Max could hear his voice, both over the comms and in real life. He could also see two members of the SAS peel away from the others and sprint towards where Lukas had pinned the target to the ground. As the soldiers closed in on him, the target started to strugg
le more violently. Lukas was holding down his right hand to stop him activating his kill switch, but that meant the terrorist could fight back more easily with the rest of his body. It almost looked as if he might overcome Lukas. But the SAS men were close now …
Max turned his head. He knew what they would do, and he had no desire to witness it. As he focused on the rest of the hall, he heard the suppressed thud of two rifle rounds in quick succession. He knew the decoy target did not pose a problem any more.
But T7 did. He was still alive, his suicide vest still active. He was somewhere in the hall. If he had activated his kill switch, he could detonate himself at any moment.
Max looked around. Surely his only sensible move was to find cover. To save himself from the explosion he knew must be seconds away. He couldn’t head to the kitchen exit – too many people crowded round it. His eyes fell on the demolished stage. If he ran there, he could take cover in the rubble. Like Sami, hiding under the pile of bricks on day one of selection. That was his best chance of survival. He took a step towards it …
But then Hector’s voice rang in his head. I knew your dad … He was always the first man in and the last man out … Brave to a fault.. What would he think if he knew that you were considering giving up now, when so many people’s lives are at risk, and they all depend on you?
Max halted. He looked over at the child hostages crowding round the exit. T7 had to be among them, on the point of detonating his suicide vest.
Somehow, he had to be stopped.
19
Kill Switch
Max flung himself towards the crowd of hostages, convinced he was the only one who could stop the impending carnage. He had looked into T7’s eyes. There had been uncertainty in his look. If Max could get in front of him again, maybe he could talk the final target into disarming himself. Or at least delay the inevitable while he tried to come up with something better.
A scream pierced the noise in the hall. As Max ran at the crowd, it parted in front of him. ‘Get down!’ an adult voice shouted from behind him. ‘Everyone get down and cover your heads!’ A few of the child hostages followed his instruction. Others turned to look at who was shouting. The piercing scream had come from a young child with albino-white hair. As the space ahead of Max opened out, he saw what had frightened the kid so much.
It frightened Max too.
Through the settling dust he saw Lili. She was in a space, on her knees, back straight, head high, arms by her side. Behind her was T7. In his left hand was a handgun. It was pressed into the back of Lili’s skull. In his right hand was a cylindrical object, no bigger than a ballpoint pen. It had a button on the top. T7 had pressed it down with his thumb.
The kill switch was activated.
From the corner of his eye, Max saw the awesome figures of the SAS men. ‘Don’t fire!’ he shouted, unsure whether they were patched into his comms. ‘He’s got a kill switch. It’s activated. If you shoot him, it’ll blow.’
Max’s voice echoed around the hall. The child hostages had fallen silent. He felt all their eyes on him, but Max’s attention was firmly on T7.
The target was shaking violently. He was clearly as scared as everybody else. He held the kill switch aloft – a threat to everyone in the room. But he hadn’t detonated it. Did that mean he wasn’t ready to die yet? Max didn’t know.
Max held up both hands, palms outward, to show he was unarmed. ‘It’s me,’ he said. ‘Remember me?’
T7 didn’t speak, but he nodded his head almost imperceptibly.
‘I meant it when I said I’d tell them about you not being like the others,’ Max said. ‘You’re not, are you? You don’t want to die, like them, do you?’
In his peripheral vision, Max saw Lukas, Abby and Sami approaching. They were carrying weapons and he assumed that they’d taken them from the dead targets.
‘Stand back, everyone,’ Max said. ‘Lower your weapons. I know this guy. He’s not like the others. He doesn’t want to do this. Do you, mate?’ He smiled at T7. ‘You want to see your brother again, right? And he wants to see you.’
T7 licked his dry lips nervously. He gave another very faint nod. It gave Max hope.
Max looked around the room. Lukas, Abby and Sami had lowered their weapons. The SAS men – two of them behind T7, two of them behind Max – had not. Their weapons were trained on T7’s head.
‘Seriously, guys,’ Max said in a level voice. ‘Lower them. If you shoot him, we all die. He knows that.’
There was a ten-second pause. Then, very slowly, the SAS men lowered their weapons.
‘I’m going to take a step forward,’ Max said. ‘You good with that?’ He started to step forward.
Something changed.
‘No!’ T7 barked.
Max froze. He saw that T7’s trembling had increased. In a flash of sudden insight he realised that his hope was misplaced. T7 was backed into a corner. He was scared. But when he came down to it, he had no real option. He wouldn’t be talked round. He’d woken up that morning knowing he was going to die, and that’s what he intended to do.
He was going to detonate.
Everyone in the vicinity would die.
Unless Max could come up with something.
Max took a step back and glanced at Lili. Considering the danger she was in, she appeared incredibly calm. He looked back at T7.
‘Nobody’s going to get too close to you,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s a kill switch in your right hand and a semi-automatic in your left. We get it. We understand that all you have to do is lift your right thumb and we all die.’ He hoped Lili was listening. ‘We understand you’re in charge.’
‘I am in charge,’ T7 said. His voice was hoarse, and it shook.
‘Nobody can stop you,’ Max agreed. ‘They’d have to be …’ His eyes flickered to Lili again. ‘They’d have to be lightning fast.’
– What are you doing, Max? What’s going on? Hector was even more abrupt than usual. He even sounded scared.
But there was no time to explain. A flicker of a smile crossed Lili’s lips. She clearly understood what Max was trying to tell her. He had given her all the information she needed. Their survival was up to her now.
Everything happened so quickly. T7’s eyes rolled. He drew back his shoulders as though preparing for something. Lili closed her eyes for the briefest moment, as though she was drawing strength from another place. Then her hands shot up. With her left hand she grabbed the weapon that was pressed into the back of her head and pushed it away. Her other hand grabbed T7’s right fist and closed over it, pressing his thumb down on to the kill switch so he couldn’t release it.
A wild look crossed T7’s face. He fired. The retort echoed around the hall. Many of the hostages screamed as the round slammed into the overhead lighting and a shower of glass and sparks rained down on the wooden floor. Lili’s face was a picture of concentration as she used every scrap of strength she had to keep the kill switch down and the weapon pointing out of harm’s way. Max dived at her, and he was aware of Lukas, Sami and Abby sprinting to his aid.
He added his strength to Lili’s by grabbing T7’s gun hand. His eyes scanned the dull grey firearm and he quickly identified the safety switch. With his free hand he clicked the gun safe. ‘Get him on the ground!’ he shouted. ‘Three, two, one …’
It was as if he and Lili were one person. Just as Max hooked one leg round T7’s ankle, he felt Lili pulling him to the ground, her right hand still keeping the kill switch depressed. T7 collapsed with a thump. As he did, the other recruits were there. Abby crouched by Lili and lent her strength to the crucial task of maintaining pressure on T7’s thumb. Lukas tore the pistol from T7’s hand, de-cocking it and removing the magazine before sitting on T7’s kicking legs.
Sami did not join them. He was still carrying one of the terrorists’ MP5s. He brandished it with the light-handed skill of a weapons expert. And he circled round the target, aiming the gun not at T7 but at the SAS men who were closing in, their weapons fully engag
ed. They were pointing at a downward angle, towards T7. With a sick feeling, Max realised they were moving in for the kill.
‘Put the weapon down, son!’ one of them shouted.
‘No!’ Sami shouted. ‘You put down your weapons. You don’t need to use them!’
– What’s happening? Sami, what are you doing?
‘Get down!’ barked another of the SAS men. ‘Lower that weapon.’
But Sami was clearly in no mood to be talked down. ‘He’s under control! You don’t need to shoot him! Enough people have died!’
Max remembered what Hector had told them about Sami. He spent those nine months with an AK-47 in his hand, protecting his family from people who wanted to kill them. I don’t know how many government troops he was forced to shoot. I’ll never ask him, and I hope none of you do either, when you get out of here.
It made sense to Max why Sami didn’t want to see any more killing. But it didn’t make sense to the SAS man. ‘Get down!’ the same guy repeated.
Hostages were escaping from the hall through the kitchen. The main doors to the right of the south window burst open. More military personnel sprinted in. Max saw Hector, Woody and Angel, their eyes burning, their hair dishevelled. But they hung back as two men in helmets and protective clothing sprinted up to the recruits who were pinning T7 to the ground. One of them carried a square box on his back with two antennae – Max knew that this was a mobile phone jammer, in case anyone was using a phone to detonate any devices – but neither appeared to be armed. ‘EOD – Explosive Ordnance Disposal! Keep that kill switch down!’
One of the EOD guys knelt down and leaned over T7, who was struggling harder than ever. It took all of Max’s strength to hold him down as the EOD guy removed wire cutters and traced one finger along the cables spewing from T7’s vest. He was clearly deciding which one to cut. The SAS men were closing in now, not on T7 but on Sami, whose face was sweating.
‘Lower your weapon!’ one of the SAS men shouted.