Z-Series | Book 6 | Z-Endgame

by Hatchett

  Don and several of his men were ahead of the prisoner and quickly turned, wondering if he been injured somehow, but quickly realised that he was just trying to cause a distraction.

  All the zombies in the vicinity turned as one and started heading towards the screaming, their eyes suddenly wide open and their mouths opening and closing more quickly.

  Several of the soldiers raised their MP5’s and started shooting, the ‘pffts’ sounding relatively loud in the steadily enclosing space. Other soldiers took out their knives and spread out to form a shield, ready to stab anything that came too close.

  Savas was slapped but continued screaming, waiting for his opportunity to make a run for it. His chance came within seconds.

  One of the soldiers holding him let go to take out an approaching zombie, leaving just one other soldier holding onto his arm. Savas drove his heel into the man’s shin and smiled as he heard the bone crack. The guard screamed, released his grip on Savas and fell to the floor holding his leg. Savas quickly kicked him in the head and started sprinting back the way they had come.

  He had only managed ten metres before his head exploded in a cloud of blood and bone and his body fell forward, skidding along the pavement before coming to a rest.

  Don walked over and looked down at the prone figure, partly annoyed that he’d had to shoot him, but mainly pleased that he’d been given the opportunity to do so. He put two more rounds into the body, although the man was clearly dead with most of his head missing.

  Don turned back to see that his men were bringing the horde of zombies under control, dead bodies now littering the street and pavement. Everything was now quiet again, and the zombies that were left began to lose interest and shuffle away.

  Don signalled and his men regrouped and started to head home, a couple supporting the man with the injured leg.

  Don followed, and once they were clear of the area, he switched channels on his walkie talkie and gave Issy an update.

  40

  Day 26 – 17:45

  Heathrow

  Issy and Don sat across a table from Timur in the office behind the reception desk at the Hilton. They would have used the interview rooms in the Command Centre in T3 if they hadn’t been flattened by the person sitting in front of them.

  Timur was still cuffed and on the table in front of them were two shiny cylinders, two mobile phones and a satellite phone.

  “All your friends are dead,” Issy said, looking to see what reaction she would get.

  Timur nodded with no emotion.

  “Why didn’t you use these two bombs?” Issy asked.

  “Did we not do enough damage?” Timur asked innocently.

  “Don’t try and be funny or we’ll give you so much pain you won’t know what to do with yourself,” Issy threatened.

  “We thought we might use them for a smaller second attack in a few days, once you thought you were safe again. To keep you guessing how many more attacks there would be…and when…and how bad.”

  “Well, best laid plans and all that…” Issy remarked sarcastically. “What’s this sat phone for?” she asked with a sly grin, already having a good idea what it was for.

  Timur paused for a second, wondering if he should say.

  “I know it’s your link to Mamba,” Issy guessed, correctly by the look on Timur’s face.

  Timur nodded.

  “Why don’t we give him a call?” Issy suggested, picking up the device and turning it on.

  She found that there was just one number programmed and clicked the redial button and listened as it started ringing.

  It rang and rang, Issy feeling her frustration building. As she was about to click off, the phone was answered, and she heard a familiar voice asking who it was. Familiar, but not the one she expected.

  “Hello Ahmed,” Issy started, “It’s Issy here. Is Mamba there?”

  Ahmed was clearly surprised and was silent for a few seconds before replying.

  “He ain’t here.”

  “Well, could you ask him to give me a call when he’s free,” Issy said nicely. “It would be appreciated.”

  Issy closed the call placed the phone back on the table.

  “I wonder what your boss is up to,” she said. “Not giving a shit about you, that’s for sure.”

  Timur shrugged.

  “What I don’t understand is why you’d follow him and die for him. He’s nothing but a piece of shit. A nasty piece of shit at that.”

  Timur smiled, and Issy was sorely tempted to give him a slap, but she kept her outward appearance calm and collected.

  “Where is he?” Issy asked.

  Timur laughed.

  “I have no fucking idea. If you think he tells us anything like that then you’re fucking stupid. He only tells us what he wants us to do and nothing more. Even Ahmed didn’t know about us coming here, and he’s Mamba’s best friend.”

  Issy believed him. She knew that Mamba kept things to himself, but she was mildly surprised that even Ahmed didn’t know about this.

  “Are you sure Ahmed didn’t know?”

  “Well, no. Mamba could have told him, but he stressed that we shouldn’t speak about it to anyone, especially Ahmed. So, why would he say that then tell Ahmed himself? Go figure.”

  “So, you came on the train from Burlington?” Issy asked.

  Timur nodded.

  “Painful fucking journey with all them ponces.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Issy said, trying to build some rapport. She wouldn’t have wanted to be on that journey herself. “How did you decide where to place the bombs?”

  “Mamba told us.”

  “And why did you pick that particular pub to hide in?”

  “Mamba recommended it.”

  Now, that fit perfectly with Mamba’s love of pubs.

  “Did Mamba tell you to leave the message on the wall?”

  “What message?” Timur replied, clearly not knowing what she was talking about.

  Issy thought it through. Mamba obviously gave specific instructions to different individuals within the groups he set up, without the rest of them knowing. The man was clearly paranoid and took the ‘cell’ idea to new levels. That may be why Ahmed was kept out of the loop on this one. Was Ahmed the voice of reason? The voice Mamba didn’t want to hear when he wanted to do something which might be questioned. Was Ahmed the weak link? Could he be turned.

  Issy’s thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the satellite phone. She leant forward, picked it up, clicked the ‘receive’ button and placed it to her ear.

  “Issy here.”

  “Cobra! How ya doin’, babe? Missin’ me?” Mamba asked jovially.

  “Hardly.”

  “Ya realise I was nut-deep in some sexy young bird when ya got Ahmed ta interrupt me. But anythin’ fer ya, Cobra, anytime, ya know that. Ahmed’s finishin’ her off fer me as we speak.”

  “Charming.”

  “Ya could always get yerself a portion if ya wanna drop by.”

  “Drop by where?”

  Mamba laughed.

  “Nice try, babe! So, I take it ya found me boys, then?”

  “Yep. Wasn’t too difficult.”

  “How they doin’?”

  “Well, Timur’s OK…for the moment. The rest…weren’t so fortunate.”

  “Good one! Ya ain’t gonna spoil me mood, babe.”

  “I’m not joking. The other four preferred to die for you rather than be captured.”

  There was a few seconds silence.

  “Taught ‘em well then, didn’t I? Let me speak ta Timur,” Mamba said.

  Issy held the phone towards Timur and told him to say hello to Mamba. He did so and she returned the phone to her ear.

  “Happy?”

  “As a pig in shit. Don’t get too comfortable, tho’, will ya babe? Wouldn’t want ya ta get hurt wivout me bein’ there.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Issy asked carefully.

  Mamba laughed.

  �
�Ya didn’t think I’d send jus’ the one team, did ya?” he said, continuing to laugh. “Ya betta keep ya eyes peeled, babe. Never know when summat might go boom!”

  “Always. Anyway, better go. Got people to torture and things.”

  “Timur dunno shit, but ya have yer fun ‘n I’ll see ya soon.”

  “Looking forward to it already.”

  Issy was about to switch the phone off when she heard Mamba talking. She put it back to her ear.

  “I missed that. What did you say?”

  “I asked if Ayla survived.”

  “Yes, she did,” Issy confirmed, although she had no idea if it was true.

  “Well, I’ll pass on the good news ta Ahmed when he’s finished shaggin’. He’ll be well happy.”

  The line went dead.

  Issy wondered what that was all about. Why was Mamba asking after Ayla on Ahmed’s behalf? She was missing something.

  Issy refocused on Timur.

  “Why didn’t you tell me there was another team here as well as yours?”

  Timur’s eyes widened slightly before he responded, and even Don glanced at her in surprise.

  Issy was sure Timur didn’t know anything about a second team…if there was one.

  “What other team?” he said, looking a bit confused, confirming for Issy that he really didn’t know anything.

  That still didn’t really help her. There could be a second team, which would be typical of Mamba. But what wasn’t typical was Mamba telling her about it…unless he was playing mind games. When you were dealing with psycho’s nothing was ever straightforward.

  “You stay here,” Issy instructed Timur as she rose, indicating that Don should follow her.

  Once back in reception, Don quickly asked about this second team. Issy advised that she didn’t know if it were true or not, but it would be worth sending Don’s team back out to continue searching just in case. In the meantime, Don could continue questioning Timur as Issy had something she needed to do.

  It was time to find Sarah or Gina and find out if Ayla was still alive.

  41

  Day 26 – 18:00

  Swindon

  Mamba put down the satellite phone on the office desk and looked across it to a frowning Ahmed sitting in the seat opposite.

  “What was all that shite ‘bout shaggin’?” Ahmed asked.

  “Jus’ tryin’ ta make her jealous.”

  “So?” Ahmed asked raising his eyebrows.

  “So, what?”

  “So, is Ayla alive?”

  “She said ‘yes’, but who knows, bro? She could be lyin’ so don’t get ya hopes up.”

  “Why didn’t ya tell me ya sent a team ta Heathrow?”

  “Didn’t wanna worry ya.”

  “Nah, man. Ya thought I might try ‘n stop ya.”

  “Ya might try, but I know ya wouldn’t stop me,” Mamba replied with a hint of warning in his voice.

  “Why ya keepin’ things secret from me? Don’t ya trust me?”

  “’Course I do, bro,” Mamba said, brightly, “but like I said, I didn’t wanna worry ya.”

  “I ain’t worried. So, what’ve ya got the terrible twins doin’?

  “What?”

  “I saw ya speakin’ ta ‘em earlier.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yeah, that. Let me guess…somethin’ ta do wiv ‘em kids.”

  “Ya ain’t as stupid as ya look, Ahmed,” Mamba said with admiration.

  “Ya ain’t gonna let ‘em nutters hurt the kids are ya?”

  “See! Ya gettin’ all worked up over nothin’,” Mamba pointed out, “which is why I didn’t tell ya.”

  “Are they gonna hurt the kids?” Ahmed asked pointedly.

  “No,” Mamba replied. “At least, not yet.”

  “What are we doin’, man?” Ahmed asked, beginning to wonder what the hell they were actually doing there in Swindon.

  “Sittin’ here, havin’ a chat. Like the good ol’ days.”

  “I don’t mean that. I mean what are we doin’ in this shithole? Why are we bothered ‘bout ‘em kids? Why are we bothered ‘bout Heathrow? Why aren’t we back in London buildin’ ourselves a future ‘n havin’ a laugh?”

  “Fuck man, are ya depressed or jus’ gettin’ old?” Mamba asked with a laugh. “I dunno what’s the matta wiv ya. Ya got everythin’ ya could want on tap. Birds, beer, puff. I’m sure we could find ya some of ‘em shit magazines ya like readin’ if ya really want.”

  “I don’t wanna be here.”

  “We can go to the beach,” Mamba suggested sarcastically. “Might find ya an ice cream.”

  “I wanna go home.”

  “We ain’t got no home.”

  “Not since ya fuckin’ demolished it ‘n all our friends ‘n family,” Ahmed said with feeling and accusation in his eyes.

  “I know, I know!” Mamba said quickly, holding up his hands palm out in supplication, “but some survived ‘n they’re currently bein’ brainwashed in the Tower by that fuckin’ Daniel.”

  “I still wanna go back.”

  “Soon... so, we OK bro?” Mamba asked cautiously.

  “’Course,” Ahmed replied, automatically.

  There was a moments silence.

  “That Marika mus’ be a shit lay, the mood yer in. Ya wanna get a piece of that Karina ta take yer mind off things. Gave her a good seein’ ta, earlier, right across this desk, face down, arse cheeks spread as I gave her a good poundin’.”

  “Ahh, man!” Ahmed sighed. Nothing changed.

  42

  Day 26 – 18:30

  Heathrow

  Issy sat in one of the lounge chairs with an untouched glass of coke in front of her. In the opposite seat, a nervous Ayla toyed with a Bacardi and coke, staring at the floor, and wondering what Issy wanted her for. She remembered the last time she had sat opposite the woman in one of the interview rooms and it wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat in a hurry.

  After her call with Mamba, Issy had quickly located Gina and asked her if she knew if Ayla had survived or whether she’d seen her. Thankfully, Gina had seen her and was able to direct Issy to the room Ayla was staying in. Issy had immediately gone to the room, knocked, and invited a surprised and suspicious Ayla to come down to the lounge for a drink.

  Ayla supposed it was better to talk in the lounge in full view of people rather than have Issy enter her room, where literally anything could happen. On the way down she guessed that this must have something to do with all the bombing. After all, she’d only been here a few days and was still considered by many to be the enemy, so it was only natural that suspicion would come her way eventually.

  “I’m here for a chat, not an interrogation,” Issy explained, as if reading Ayla’s mind.

  Ayla visibly relaxed a little and looked up.

  “I know you had nothing to do with these bombs,” Issy added, hoping to get the girl to loosen up some more.

  “How do you know? You weren’t here. I could easily have been involved.”

  “Were you?”

  “No.”

  “See? Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  Ayla nodded but she was still clearly nervous.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Ahmed,” Issy said, and was met by a surprised look from Ayla.

  “Ahmed?”

  “Yeah, Ahmed. You know the one. The big, ugly bastard who follows Mamba around like they’re joined at the hip.”

  “Of course, I know who he is. I spent a few days with him and Mamba.”

  “So, what can you tell me about him? We’ve been so focused on Mamba that we’ve never really thought about Ahmed’s role in everything.”

  “None of its Ahmed’s fault,” Ayla stressed quickly, and Issy noted the immediate and unequivocal defence.

  Interesting.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because everything they do is instigated by Mamba. It’s all about Mamba. Mamba wants this, Ahmed does it. Mamba wants that, Ahmed does it.”
>
  “Why?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I think they grew up together and are like blood brothers or something. Mamba has always looked out for Ahmed since they were young, but in return he expects to get his own way. All the time.”

  “But if Ahmed doesn’t agree with what Mamba wants, then why does he go along with it?”

  “It’s not that easy. How do you say ‘no’ to someone who’s had your back, no questions asked, through a really tough life? Don’t get me wrong. Ahmed is no angel. He’s easily capable of doing bad things without Mamba directing, but underneath it all he’s actually very kind.”

  Issy had seen some of that for herself when she and Gina had been caught by Mamba, but it was good to have a second opinion, or third if you counted Gina’s views.

  “He’s also very clever.”

  “Is he?” Issy asked, intrigued.

  “Not like you’re thinking,” Ayla continued. “You’re thinking Ahmed has been the brains behind all the things they’ve done, but that’s not right. If anything, Ahmed acts as Mamba’s conscience, not that he listens to it very often. Ahmed is clever as in IQ-clever. If he’d been born into a different life, he could have been a doctor or a lawyer or something else brainy. He likes reading and knows lots of stuff. I don’t think he’d get into trouble if it weren’t for Mamba. Well, not as much trouble, anyway.”

  “What about Mamba?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is he clever?”

  Ayla considered the question.

  “Yes and no. He’s not stupid, he’s cunning, sly and crafty and can always spot an angle.”

  “Streetwise,” Issy suggested.

  “Yes.”

  “So, do you still have feelings for Mamba?”

  “God, no!” Ayla replied. “You were right when you said I was stupid. It was just…a rush…and I’ve got to admit, the sex part wasn’t bad, although he can be a bit of a bastard.”

  “I don’t want to know,” Issy replied, holding up her hands as if to ward off anything more Ayla might say.

  Ayla laughed.

  “He’s got a big one,” Ayla added.

  “I said I don’t want to know,” Issy said, but they were both now laughing.