by Mark Mannock
The general had wanted to send a small team in to help me confront Winter. I declined. One inkling that I was not alone would send Giles Winter into a murderous rage. That could not be chanced.
General Colin Devlin-Waters asked about my plan. I told him. I thought I had a ten percent chance of success at best, the general thought it was significantly less.
I didn’t care. It was my plan.
I returned to the hotel. Its luxury seemed insulting and isolated amid the events of the evening. I retrieved the chemical weapon and nerve agent samples from Greatrex’s hiding spot, found some guns and knives on the top shelf of the closet in my room, where the general’s men had deposited them earlier, and was back in the car in ten minutes.
I fine-tuned my plan, if it really was a plan, as I drove back to the west side of the island. First I had to get through the Newport area before the festival traffic began to leave the site. I looked at my watch; it would be close.
Time and timing were the only things I had on my side. Giles Winter should have sent a man with me to retrieve the samples, but he was overconfident that I wouldn’t risk anyone’s life. This was his first mistake; he misread me. I wasn’t going to risk anyone’s life. I was going to risk everyone’s life. I didn’t blame him, I had misread me too.
I had ninety minutes to be back at the battery on the cliffs. Because the samples were at my hotel, I only needed sixty minutes for the return trip. I had bought thirty minutes to prepare for my meeting with Winter as I saw fit. Winter’s second mistake was the location he’d chosen. He thought access would be difficult, and defending it, hiding his hostages, and keeping me confused would be easy. He was mostly right except that, although deserted at night, the old battery was a known tourist location by day, so a map or plan would be easily available online. It had taken me two minutes to locate it on my phone. Of course, at night there would be no tourists or interlopers; the battery would be inhabited only by the ghosts of soldiers past.
When I turned onto the clifftop road on the west side of the island, I slowed down and turned off my one remaining headlight. It was a very difficult and precarious drive in the darkness. Slowing down would cost me precious minutes, but that couldn’t be helped. As I approached the area where Winter and his men had stopped us, I pulled the car off the road as much as possible. I was banking on Winter not having guards stationed this far along the road. I presumed he had limited personnel with him. Brooks, Rowley, Santori, Portland man and Winter himself had been present for the confrontation on the clifftop. It was therefore logical to presume he had at least one or two more men guarding Leyla and Kaitlin. I thought it unlikely he would have more men with him, as he’d have to make a swift and inconspicuous departure when this was all over. That meant with Greatrex out of action, there were probably seven of them and one of me. Better not to dwell on those odds. It would be my first job to try to even things up a little.
I left the car and went overland by foot in the direction of the battery. As I rose over the last rise, the view was breathtaking. A bright moon lit the old buildings and their surrounds. The clifftop concrete platforms that were the former gunnery positions towered over the white-capped waters below. At the end of a row of sheer chalk stacks appearing out of the water was an automated lighthouse casting an intermittent beacon across the waves.
At any other time, I’d stop and take it all in. Not now. The disadvantage of a bright moon meant it would be hard to get close to any of the buildings without being seen. The advantage of the bright moon meant that I could get a good look at the layout of the area and maybe even spot some of Winter’s men.
I figured that Winter’s people would probably be focused on the road, waiting for me to arrive. They would, however, have an ear and eye out for some sort of mass assault in case I had enlisted help. I banked on the fact they wouldn’t expect or notice a one-man reconnaissance team coming over the hill. There was very little cover on this windswept coastline, so I had to crawl on my belly as I made my way down the hill. I was aware time was passing, and I only had a few minutes before I needed to return to my car to make my formal entrance.
In front of a steep earth embankment that rimmed the land side of the battery was a deep ditch, and on top of the embankment was a six-foot wire fence. There was a bridge over the ditch and a break in the embankment where the main entrance was. Winter’s men had obviously used bolt cutters to cut the chain on the large metal gate and enter. I could make out one of Winter’s men at the gate; I didn’t recognize him. I would have to find another way in. I moved along the embankment, keeping as low as possible.
At the end furthest from the gate, still crawling on my stomach, I scaled the embankment and cut my way through the wire using some bolt cutters I had procured from the maintenance shed at our hotel. Without stopping to notice if I’d been seen, I slid down the far side of the embankment and sprinted across what looked like an old parade ground.
Staying as much in the shadows as possible, I made my way toward what I knew from the map to be an underground tunnel entrance. This gate had also been forced open. It would have been suicide for me to attempt to enter the tunnel; it would also guarantee instant death to any prisoners kept inside, so I didn’t go in. Every fiber of my body was telling me that was the most likely place Jack, Kaitlin, Leyla, and Amira were being kept, but now was not the time.
I deposited a small package in the shadows near the entrance to the tunnel. I then moved over to the gun placements near the clifftop. There were two ancient cannons occupying two of the sections, and the other two sections were empty. I placed another package out of sight under one of the guns.
Sneaking a quick look at my watch, I realized I was running way behind time. I had to move quickly if I was to keep my appointment with Winter on schedule. Once more I sprinted across the parade ground, up the embankment, through the fence, down the ditch and up the hill as fast as I could. If I was late for the meeting with Winter, it would cost Jack Greatrex his life.
I abandoned any care about being seen as I scurried up the hill. I felt exposed, but I had no choice. I don’t know how, but I wasn’t spotted. As it turned out, any relief I felt about that was premature.
Just as I went over the hill, I came face to face with Winter’s Portland man. He was as surprised as I was, but I was better trained. He went to reach under his jacket for his gun. Sometimes a knife is faster than a gun, I pulled mine out of the scabbard on my belt and plunged it through his heart. Nothing personal, no emotion—this was purely professional.
I checked behind me; we were over the brow of the hill, so no one would have seen us. Because I used a knife, no one would have heard anything either. As I briefly looked over the top of the hill to make sure, I noticed something I had missed before: one of Winter’s cars was missing; that troubled me. I retrieved the knife and ran toward my car. The odds were now six to one.
I went over possibilities in my mind as I sprinted toward the location where I had parked the Mini. One or more of Winter’s men had to be checking the road. If he found my car, this was all over. My only hope was that I was heading overland in a straight line, but the road meandered. I ran faster.
As I went over the last hill toward where my car was parked, my heart sank. Another car, one of Winter’s, was parked beside mine. Its lights were shining on my empty driver’s seat. This was going to end badly. At that point I believed I had probably just killed everybody, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down.
I made it to within about five yards of the man getting out of the other car before he turned around. It was Rowley. He was pulling a radio transmitter out of his pocket—or was he putting it away? Everything depended on whether he’d contacted Winter or not.
“Sorry, just stopped for a toilet break,” I proffered. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. I kept walking as I talked.
“You seem a whole lot out of breath for someone just taking a leak.”
He was right.
Enough talking. Whi
le he was taking a split second to decide whether to believe me or not, I pulled out my blood-soaked knife and lunged toward him. Rowley was a lot quicker on his feet than his colleague. He stepped to one side, so I ended up thrusting my knife past his torso finding no target at all. He responded by kicking me in the groin, sending me to the ground.
Everything hinged on Rowley going for his gun rather than the transmitter, which had also fallen to the ground. Rowley went for his gun. In a sea of pain, I found my feet, looked him in the eye and feigned to his right with my blade. He fell for it and moved to his left. This is what I expected a professional to do, so I swung the knife across his body and slashed deep into his chest. He dropped his gun.
Most men would have been down at this point, but not Rowley. He grunted, fell backward against the car, bounced off, and charged at me; unfortunately for me, he had reached into his belt and found a knife of his own. Fortunately for me, the man’s strength was running out. His chest was soaking red; he was losing a lot of blood. I managed to kick his knife to one side and plunged mine straight into his throat. Rowley looked at me, his face full of surprise, and then emptiness. He fell to the ground, dead.
I took a minute to catch my breath, listening for any sound that would betray Rowley’s communication of the discovery of my car. Hearing only the crashing of distant waves at the cliff bottom, I thought I was in the clear. I cleaned myself off as best I could. I was clearly showing the physical signs of being involved in a fight. I hoped the cover of darkness would let that pass unnoticed.
I climbed into my car, started the engine, turned on the lights, and headed to my appointment with Giles Winter.
As I belted along those last few hundred yards of road along the clifftop, I felt no remorse about what I had just done. I would deal with that later. I did, however, feel good about one thing: the odds had just improved some more. They were now five to one, and I was a very coldly determined and pissed off one.
Then I looked at my watch; the timing was too tight.
I was going to be too late to save Jack Greatrex.
32
The Mini skidded to a halt as I came to the battery entrance. I went to run past Winter’s man on the main gate but was stopped by a hand on my chest.
“Arms out, feet spread.” He was going to search me.
Luckily, I had thrown my knife out the car window before I rounded the last corner. I had expected to be searched, but I couldn’t afford the delay.
“At least let Winter know I’m here,” I said, pointing to the transmitter in the guard’s other hand.
He ignored me and went on patting me down. I kept listening for the sound of the bullet that would end Greatrex’s life.
“Go in,” instructed the guard.
I raced through the small tunnel under the embankment and onto the parade ground. In that moment, under the light of a cold, merciless moon, I realized I was too late. Across the parade ground near the first gun placement was Giles Winter, pistol in hand. A prone figure was lying awkwardly at his feet. The figure was motionless. I walked toward them, but I already knew who it was. The body lying unmoving on the ground was my best friend, Jack Greatrex.
I felt waves of despair stirring through my very being, I tried to fight it: Leyla, Amira, and Kaitlin needed me to fight it. They needed a strong, calm man, but I did not feel like that man.
“You bastard,” I yelled at Winter, not for the first time tonight.
He looked at me. “You pathetic fool,” he said. His tone was patronizing. “I haven’t even shot him yet. He’s still out cold from being knocked on the head by Rowley.” Winter seemed mildly amused by the situation. “Your friend must have a very thin skull. He didn’t even regain consciousness when we dragged him over here from the car.”
Relief enveloped me as I pulled myself together. I would have smiled but I didn’t. I would have smiled because at that point I knew exactly what was going on. Greatrex and I had often discussed the strategies we’d use if we were captured while on a mission. He was a strong exponent of the “play dead” school. “If you’re knocked down, stay down. People will say more if they think you can’t hear.” Jack Greatrex was no more unconscious than I was.
I looked down at the stillness of his body. His hands were bound behind his back. Winter’s men hadn’t thought it was necessary to bind his feet. It was necessary, and I hoped they’d soon learn why.
“Can I check on him?” I asked Winter. Nicholas Sharp, concerned friend.
“Be my guest. Not much point though; you’ll both be dead shortly.”
Such graciousness.
I got down on my knees, making sure I had my back to Winter. I could hear Greatrex’s steady breathing. Pretending I was checking his eyes, I leaned down close to my friend’s ear and whispered, “What you’ll need is under the gun on the right,” referring to one of the packages I had left in my earlier reconnaissance. Jack would know what I meant.
I got up to my feet and turned to face Winter. The guard from the gate had come over to see what was going on. What I needed to do now was get Winter and his man as far away from Greatrex as quickly as I could.
“He’ll be out for a while,” I said.
“Good for him,” said Winter, “although it’s a shame he won’t feel the bullet when it comes.”
What a guy.
Winter then brushed the dark hair from his face and looked me straight in the eye.
“The samples—I presume you have them?”
“I have them,” I replied.
“Where? I don’t see the package.”
“I want to see the girls,” I demanded.
Winter then hit me hard across the face.
“You don’t make the rules here, Sharp. I thought we’d established that.”
“No girls, no samples,” I reiterated, waiting for more pain. It came, back of my head, courtesy of Winter’s enforcer.
“We’ve no time for this,” said Winter. “I’ll take you to them when you tell me where the samples are; if you don’t, I’ll deal with Jack Greatrex now.” He began to raise his gun.
“In my car, under the passenger seat,” I responded. I hated bullies, but I hated losing friends more.
I started to walk toward the car, but Winter stopped me with a hand.
“Preston, take care of it,” he said to the gate guard.
“Preston” walked off toward the entrance leading to my car. Winter didn’t move. I needed him to move.
“The girls,” I said.
Possibly for the first time in his life, Giles Winter kept his word. We started walking toward the tunnel entrance.
It was all I could do not to take a sideways glance at Greatrex, but I looked straight ahead, wanting to keep Winter’s mind focused elsewhere.
“So, what will you do with the samples?” I asked.
Winter liked to talk about his work.
“We will reverse engineer them here in England. I have a small group of scientifically skilled British friends. We will then confirm their effectiveness with some small demonstrative attacks.”
I felt sick.
“After that, we will move them on to our buyer, or should I say buyers. We have one in Russia and one in the Middle East. This is why we needed you to get them back to England, under military guard of course.” He seemed very satisfied with himself. I hated that.
We had reached the tunnel entrance and Winter hadn’t looked back. Then he began to turn around.
I pretended to trip and fell against him. He didn’t buy it for a second, turning back and lashing my face with the butt of his gun. It hurt like hell, but by then we were on the stairs leading down to the tunnel. Greatrex was out of view.
Winter continued, “You fool, Sharp. You have no choices here. I’m still considering whether your girls live or die; one more pointless move like that will decide it for me.”
I knew Winter wasn’t deciding anything. He planned to murder us all, here, tonight. The fact he just gave me all that information had co
nfirmed it.
We climbed down the circular stairs to the tunnel floor. Winter made sure I led the way. He then produced a torch and shone its light down a very long brick-lined tunnel. It was more like a corridor. There was comfortable standing room, but only just enough width for two people to pass each other.
“Wait,” he said. “We go nowhere until Preston returns with the samples.”
Two minutes later, the clamor of feet on the metal stairs above us told us Winter’s man had arrived. As he joined us, he held out the package containing the samples.
“They were where he said,” Preston nodded in my direction as he spoke.
“Very well,” said Winter. “For once you have done something sensible, Sharp. Now you can join your friends.” He managed to make even that simple sentence sound sinister.
He shone the light back down the tunnel and pushed me ahead of him.
“Preston, stay here,” Winter commanded. “Make sure we are not disturbed.”
As we walked along the tunnel, it seemed like we were gradually going downhill. I couldn’t help but feel that if Winter had his way, neither I, nor Kaitlin, Amira, or Leyla would be making the return uphill journey. There was a certain irony in the fact that during the day the path we walked was traveled by hordes of tourists, yet here, tonight, it seemed like the most remote and frightening location on earth.
Seconds ticked away. I was aware that by giving the samples over to Winter, I had taken an enormous risk. Any possible control I had over the timing of events was gone. Alternatively, if I hadn’t given him the package, I wouldn’t have been able to gain access to the girls, not to mention the fact that Winter was itching to start shooting people.