Z-Series | Book 6 | Z-Endgame

by Hatchett

  “Come wiv me,” he said, standing up. “I want a word in private.”

  Mamba moved away and Faruk and Ismet followed. Once they were out of earshot, Mamba told them what he wanted, and the twins slunk away.

  Mamba returned to the scouting group, all eyes still on him.

  “What ya done?” Ahmed asked, looking worried.

  “Nothin’ ta concern ya,” Mamba replied, before turning to look at Karina.

  “In me office, now,” he ordered.”

  He started for the far end of the warehouse with Karina hurrying to catch up.

  “What’s going on?” she asked as she drew level. “Have I done something wrong?”

  “Ya ain’t done anythin’ yet,” he replied with a wicked grin.

  37

  Day 26 – 15:00

  Heathrow

  “Got movement,” came through Issy’s earphones. “Two people.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “Just entering Bath Road from the East.”

  “Where are you?” Issy asked.

  “In the McDonalds on the corner,” came the reply.

  Don held a map in front of Issy and pointed to where the McDonalds was. She traced the road to the car park they were in.

  “All teams get ready,” Issy ordered. “Keep me posted.”

  Issy looked to Don and raised her eyebrows.

  “Maybe we’re in luck,” she suggested.

  “We’ll see in a few minutes,” he agreed.

  “How long to get here do you reckon?”

  “It’s about one and a half kilometres to here, give or take, so ten minutes?

  Issy nodded and looked to the two other soldiers with them.

  “Stay hidden on this floor until I give the word.”

  The soldiers nodded and moved away to hide.

  Issy turned to Don.

  “Who else is on that road?”

  “We have a couple near the KFC, here,” he said, pointing to the map. “The rest are in different positions, but we can move them in.”

  “Do it,” Issy confirmed, “but leave the two in McDonalds in case more targets are following.”

  Don nodded and gave her the map while he took hold of his walkie talkie and started relaying orders.

  Issy studied the map. There were so many options that it would be impossible to determine where the two had come from. They could have come two hundred metres or two thousand. A short while later she heard ‘passing the KFC’ in her earpiece, meaning the targets had four hundred or so metres to go before they reached the car park.

  “We better hide ourselves,” Issy suggested to Don and he nodded in agreement.

  Issy clicked her walkie talkie.

  “Anyone else passing McDonalds?” she asked.

  “That’s a negative,” came the response.

  So that meant the two targets weren’t being followed. But it didn’t mean they weren’t meeting up with others who might be coming from another direction.

  “Any other sightings,” she asked, getting negative responses.

  They had no idea how many were in this cell. The damage done suggested more than two, but other than that it would be just guesswork.

  Issy and Don quickly headed to a camper van that she had spotted and pointed out earlier. When she got there, she found the window in the door had been smashed and the door opened easily.

  They both climbed in, leaving the door ajar, and quickly closed the curtains over the windows, leaving just enough of a gap that they could both see out without anyone seeing in.

  As they waited for the terrorists to appear, Issy took a quick look around the interior, noting crumpled bed linen, the empty plastic water bottles, and wrappers on the floor. She frowned, something ringing a bell in the back of her mind but eluding her when she tried to focus on it. Her concentration was broken when a voice came through her earpiece saying the targets were climbing the outer steps. Issy turned and looked through the gap in the curtains.

  “We need to try and take them alive,” Issy reminded Don.

  “If we can,” he agreed.

  They watched and waited and after a few minutes two men walked past the end of the camper van in silence, their focus seemingly on the Southern end of the building.

  Issy nodded to Don and they sidled back to the doorway, careful to avoid stepping on the plastic bottles and other rubbish littered across the floor.

  They both eased out of the camper van, Don crouching and going to the left, Issy going right. Issy held up her hand with three fingers in the air and began lowering them as she counted off three seconds.

  They simultaneously rose from their crouch, bringing up their MP5s.

  “Stop right there!” Issy shouted.

  Both men froze like rabbits in headlights and then started frantically looking around for the source of the voice. They spotted two soldiers off to their left and, when they looked behind, they saw Issy and Don with guns pointed in their direction.

  The first man just turned and ran towards the end of the level while the other stood frozen to the spot.

  “Run!” the first man shouted as he sped away, jolting the second man out of his trance-like state.

  The second man turned to run after his partner, who was now a good fifteen to twenty metres ahead.

  “Where are they going?” Issy queried. “There’s no exit that way.”

  She and Don moved after them, keeping their guns up and trained on the two fleeing targets.

  Issy was expecting the first man to stop and search for an escape route, but he carried on running and dived straight over the waist high barrier headfirst.

  “What the fuck?” Issy muttered, then realised exactly what the two were doing.

  She quickly aimed her weapon and fired, the bullet hitting the second man in the leg, causing him to fall and skid along the concrete for a couple of metres before coming to a stop. She then started running towards him, quickly followed by Don, and she could see the other two soldiers closing in from the side in her peripheral vision.

  “Don’t kill him,” Issy shouted, hoping the soldiers heard her.

  The man on the ground picked himself up, obviously in agony. He looked back to see Issy and Don closing in on him, then looked how far he had to go before he reached the barrier. Too far. Instead, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a pistol, turned towards Issy and Don and began to raise the weapon.

  As soon as the man reached into his pocket, Issy stopped and knelt, putting the MP5’s scope to her eye. As the man turned back towards her and Don and started to raise his arm she didn’t hesitate. She fired and watched as the man was hit and spun three hundred and sixty degrees before falling to the floor. Then Issy was up and running again.

  She reached the man, as the other three arrived with their guns raised.

  “Don’t shoot!” she ordered as she kicked the pistol away and approached the man who was now groaning in pain on the floor.

  Issy just hoped to God the man wasn’t wearing a bomb vest and quickly looked for his hands then bent over to pat him down. She then kicked him over and stood on one of his arms as one of the other soldiers stood on the other arm.

  There was no bomb.

  The mans face was contorted in pain and Issy glanced at the blood spilling from his leg and shoulder. He wouldn’t be using his right arm anytime soon.

  “Cuffs and tourniquet,” she ordered.

  Don brought out some plasticuffs and took each of the man’s arms in turn before securing them together as he howled in pain. One of the soldiers removed his belt and quickly tied it around the upper part of the man’s leg.

  “Stem the blood flow at the shoulder,” Issy ordered, and heard cloth being ripped as she turned and walked across to the barrier to look over.

  There were a dozen or so zombies on their hands and knees with a body on the floor beneath them. Issy got a glimpse of blood and guts when the zombies moved.

  She was joined by Don and they both looked down on the sce
ne, their faces blank.

  “I guess he’s now humping his forty virgins as we speak,” Don remarked with a chuckle.

  “Stupid bastard,” Issy huffed.

  She turned and walked back to the other man, who was now sitting on the floor being held in place by the two soldiers, tears streaming down his face.

  “Name?” Issy demanded.

  The man didn’t answer but looked up at Issy and smiled.

  “I recognise you,” he said at last.

  “I don’t recognise you,” she replied. “At least you speak English.”

  The man briefly closed his eyes, realising he had made a mistake.

  “Don’t worry, we have people who could translate anyway. What’s your name?” Issy repeated. “I won’t ask again.”

  The man stayed silent, watching her carefully.

  Issy leant forward and grabbed the man’s injured shoulder, digging her fingers into the wound.

  The man screamed.

  Issy let go and stood up, waiting.

  “You’ve killed a lot of my friends so you’re going to feel a lot of pain for a very long time,” she threatened.

  “Timur,” the man relented, drawing in short, sharp breaths of air as sweat broke out on his brow and tears continued to roll down his face.

  “How many of you?” Issy asked.

  “Five.”

  “Where are they?”

  “The George and Dragon.”

  Don consulted his map and after a few seconds tracing the nearby roads with his finger said, ‘got it’.

  “Go and get them. Kill them if you have to. These two men can stay with me and drag him back to the airport.”

  Don nodded, folded his map, and put it away. He walked towards the exit, talking rapidly into his walkie talkie.

  “Gag him and let’s go,” Issy ordered the two soldiers with her.

  38

  Day 26 – 15:00

  Swindon

  Faruk and Ismet studied the kids in the square below through their binoculars as they lay at the edge of the shopping centre’s flat roof.

  On their previous visit to the area, when they had been shadowing Mamba, they had spotted the kids well before Mamba became aware that they were there. They were a little surprised that Mamba had been so lax and were tempted to warn him, but they knew Mamba believed himself to be untouchable and, to be honest, they were beginning to believe it themselves. Time and again he escaped from situations he had no right to survive, but here he was. That was one of the things that drew the twins to him, and the fact that he didn’t give a shit what he said or did to anyone. Maybe he was untouchable or guided by a higher purpose. Who knew?

  So, on their previous visit they had stayed close but hidden, and would have sprung into action if needed, but as usual Mamba managed to turn the situation around and take control…of a sort. They had eased back, watching as Mamba followed the kids towards the shopping centre, then quickly made their way up to the roof and watched their progress through the skylights. There was no danger of them being seen because all eyes had been on the new arrivals.

  With their binoculars, they had been able to see part of the inside of the furniture store that Mamba had entered, but if anything had happened there, they were too far away to do much about it. The only thing they could have done was to try and cause a distraction like smashing the glass and giving Mamba a little time to react. Not ideal, but thankfully their help wasn’t needed.

  They had followed Mamba for part of his return to the warehouse. They watched as the kids had tried to follow him, but the manoeuvres he’d employed had worked and he’d soon lost his tails.

  Faruk and Ismet then followed the kids back to the shopping centre to see what they would do next. They were sure the kids would have learnt something from the experience and judging from the bollocking they received from their leader, they wouldn’t be making the same mistakes anytime soon. But it seemed that they thought Mamba had gone for good as eventually they had returned to their usual routine.

  Faruk and Ismet spent some time observing how the kids operated, where they hung around when on duty, when and where they took their breaks, where they went when they carried out their regular sweeps of the surrounding area. They now knew how many there were on guard duty, roughly what ages, and sex, and started to recognise them. What they didn’t know was how many more were inside the shopping centre or what other weapons they might have.

  As usual, they had decided to wait for darkness to fall before they made a move. Most people were afraid of the dark for some primitive reason, especially kids, but Faruk and Ismet felt positively alive surrounded by darkness and shadows, their senses heightened.

  39

  Day 26 – 16:30

  Heathrow

  Don and his team took their time approaching ‘The George and Dragon’ from the four points of the compass. With everyone carrying walkie talkies on silent mode and using headphones, one man in each mini team was designated the role of providing regular updates on progress. Daylight was fading fast, but there was still enough light that they could see each other and what they were doing.

  They had reached the pub without incident and surrounded the building, reports confirming that all the upstairs rooms were dark, but there was some weak, artificial light coming from the ground floor.

  Don was in the rear garden, watching as one of his men quietly crawled up to a rear window. The man rested for a second, sitting on his haunches with his back against the wall while the rest of the men stayed well back in the growing darkness, covering their colleague.

  When the soldier was ready, he extracted a miniature mirror on a small telescopic pole and extended the pole until the mirror was positioned just above the windowsill.

  He could see part of the pub, part of the bar but little else. It appeared to be deserted from this angle, but without seeing the rest of the room he couldn’t be certain.

  He lowered the pole and carefully crawled along the back wall towards a set of patio doors. He adjusted the angle of the mirror and slowly extended the pole until he could see what was behind the glass.

  He was pleasantly surprised to see three men sitting on small stools around a low wooden table and playing cards. They were almost in the centre of the room with some weak lights dotted around them. They had drinks and snacks on a second table and what looked like weapons on the floor between them. He shuffled back a few yards, clicked his comms, and whispered his findings into the microphone.

  Don then sent one of his men at the front to check if the front door was locked and smiled when he was told it was open. He asked the soldier at the rear if he could check if the patio door was locked and was told it wouldn’t be possible without alerting the targets. Another soldier pointed out that there was a second door at the rear of the building, on the opposite end to the patio doors. Don asked the soldier near the patio doors to check and watched as he made his way along the back of the building. That door was also locked, and Don assumed the targets hadn’t even bothered with the rear of the building and were too complacent to lock the front.

  Don decided there would be no point in trying to talk these people down, especially after seeing one of them take a swan dive off the second floor of the car park and the other trying to do the same. He wanted to take them alive if possible, so the element of surprise was key. They needed to get in quickly and subdue the men before they had the chance to react.

  After thinking it through, Don gave his orders, using some of the men as lookouts in case they attracted the attention of nearby zombies.

  Don counted down and the soldiers simultaneously crashed through the front and rear doors, their MP5’s up and ready.

  There was a momentary pause as the three Turks automatically looked towards the noises, still with their cards in their hand. As soon as they saw who had entered the pub, the cards were unceremoniously dropped and all three lunged forwards to pick up their weapons off the floor.

  Don shouted ‘don’t!’ and fire
d off two warning shots which smashed into the wall above their heads, but the Turks didn’t stop or hesitate. Two more shots rang out and the heads of two Turks exploded in a mist of pink spray, while the third Turk immediately froze and slowly raised his arms.

  With his men covering him, Don quickly approached the Turk, slinging his MP5 over his shoulder and reaching for some plasticuffs. He grasped the man’s wrists and quickly applied the restraints then dragged the man backwards so that he was out of range of the weapons. He then quickly patted the man down until he was satisfied that he was clean.

  “Looks like some of our pistols, Don,” one of the soldiers remarked. “And one of our sat phones.”

  “Take them,” Don ordered, “and check all the rooms in case there’s any more of our equipment around.”

  He turned to the Turk who was now sitting on the floor with his wrists in his lap and his legs out straight.

  “Name?” he asked.

  The Turk was silent.

  “Don’t waste my time, son. We’ve got Timur and he’s singing like a canary, so if you don’t want to cooperate, we’ll just shoot you and leave you to turn.”

  “Savas,” the Turk spat, a look of loathing on his face.

  “Mamba’s truly fucked you lot up,” Don remarked casually.

  “We were prepared to die,” Savas replied heatedly, spittle flying from his mouth.

  “I know. The other one we cornered thought he could fly, but I guess Allah wasn’t there to make his wish come true.”

  Savas just stared, wondering if it was true. If Timur was alive, that meant Zeki had taken the dive. He closed his eyes and prayed to Allah for his friend’s safe journey to paradise.

  A few minutes later the soldiers returned from their search and Savas was hauled to his feet and pushed unceremoniously towards the exit. Savas was furious that he had been caught and was now being treated like a piece of shit by these infidels.

  He allowed them to drag him into the street and start walking away from the pub, trying to work out how he might escape. Then he had a brain wave and started shouting and screaming at the top of his voice.