The pain was intense. Spasms fired down his legs. His moment came as the Scot pushed himself up. Spinning around, he reversed the knife in his grip and stabbed backwards. It glanced off bone and then met soft flesh.
'No!' Shredder said as he reached up for the knife that was stuck in his chest. Woolf heard him gasp then rolled sideways against the side cladding.
Woolf pushed himself up onto his one hip and ripped his knife out of the dead man's chest. Looking down the length of the walkway, he saw Stuart running towards the young man, who grabbed the boy and picked him up onto his hip. Crippling pain coursed through him as he dragged himself up to the railing. Taking a long breath, he stood up and swayed back and forth looking down at the bloody knife in his hand. Kill the child at any cost. A pool of bright red blood encircled his feet. Woolf started hobbling and felt every step become slower and slower. Tightening the grasp on the knife, he walked towards Stuart.
‘Give me the kid, and I’ll kill you quickly,’ Woolf said.
'This is for Kat,' Warren shouted at him.
Woolf stopped. ‘Up until I killed that little slut, she didn’t ask for you once. How does that feel?’
Warren's Glock went off with a roar.
Chapter 41
Roosevelt Island, New York, NY, USA- 2033
'Woolf!' screamed Lord Butler as he leaned forward over the railing, squashing Christina in the process. 'You bastard, Gibbs. This is your fault.'
Gibbs felt the numbness in his left arm as he clung on. Stuart is safe. The exhilaration flooded through him as he looked down and saw Warren running back into building five.
'Everything started to go wrong the day I freed you from that bloody prison ship. I should have left you to rot, like the vermin you are,' Lord Butler continued.
Lord Butler placed the Beretta to the back of Christina's head, and she grimaced with pain as he forced her further over the side of the railing.
‘Okay, Butler! I am coming up,’ Gibbs shouted.
Gibbs pulled himself up, and in a fluid motion ripped the Glock from its holster and slipped it through the side cladding, holding his breath as he aimed. The gun recoil moved him into action. Lord Butler yelped as he was hit in the left shoulder. Gibbs fired again, but it went wide as Christina spun around and grabbed Lord Butler’s jacket with one hand and his gun hand with the other. Lord Butler leaned backwards, pulling her up in the process.
Holding onto the cables for so long had caused Gibbs to shake from the effort, and he slipped a few inches. A groan escaped from his lips. Lord Butler head-butted Christina, and she staggered to the side before he grabbed her hair and spun her around to act as a shield. Gibbs took a last deep breath and dropped his Glock onto the metal skyway, slipped his arm back out through the cladding and reached up to the side of the railing, at the same time releasing his tired left arm.
Swinging his boot up, he managed to get a foothold on a metal stanchion and pulled himself to a standing position. In a few seconds, he had jumped over the railing and landed in a crouch behind his Glock.
'No you don't, you little bitch,' Lord Butler shouted after Christina had tried to twist around. He was standing behind her with his right arm around her. 'You took my left hand, Gibbs, and now you have wounded me again. I dare you to take a shot at my right hand.’
Gibbs looked at the hand that was over her heart as Lord Butler dragged her back towards the door. Keeping the Glock raised, he walked forward.
'Come on, Butler. Let me see your scrawny little face. You never were a real man were you, always hiding behind women and children.'
Lord Butler whispered something into Christina's ear as he raised his arm to her throat and started to choke her. Gibbs felt the adrenaline flow as they walked backwards to the door. Lord Butler forced her down to her knees as he sank and cowered behind her.
Gibbs braced the Glock in his other hand, looking through the line of the sights. Christina’s eyes flicked to the left and right. There was no shot that wouldn’t hurt her.
‘Come on out, you bloody coward!’
Lord Butler’s arm slipped back as his hand grasped Christina’s throat. His arm disappeared from view only to reappear with Christina's fallen Glock, directed at Gibbs.
Gibbs threw himself against the left side of the walkway as Christina grabbed the shooting arm of her captor. The bullet ripped into Gibbs's thigh, and he dropped to his knee in pain. The Glock fell to the ground as he grabbed his thigh.
Lord Butler was on his feet again and snapped Christina’s head back, pointing the Glock at her forehead.
'Gibbs!' she screamed. Lord Butler silenced her with a brutal pistol whip to the back of her head. A trickle of blood appeared as she was yanked her to her feet with a grip around her neck again. Her head hung forward, her shoulders slumped. Christina swayed backwards against Lord Butler’s chest.
‘Time to suffer, Gibbs!’ he screamed above the wind.
Gibbs fumbled for the Glock on the skyway but couldn't take his eyes off his wife. She looked up at him, her eyes rolled then she focused and grinned. Lord Butler took a slight step back, taking her weight then shoved her in her back against the railing.
A loud crack pierced the wind as the railing gave way under her twisting weight. Gibbs looked into her eyes. Time stopped. Two flailing attempts to grab a loose cable failed, and then she was gone
'Christina!' Gibbs screamed.
Lord Butler lifted the Glock towards Gibbs, but the bolt was slid back. Empty. He turned and stepped back towards the metal door, and pulling it open he ran through as the first bullet cracked into the wall.
Pain shooting up from his thigh, his chest constricting with shock and grief, Gibbs emptied the magazine into the closing door. Glass exploded as the window shattered. A loud scream came from Lord Butler as he disappeared into the dark. Gibbs limped forward to the broken railing dragging his bleeding leg, his throat tightening.
'Oh, Christina,' he whispered, barely audible in the salty gusts of wind.
She lay on her back amongst the rocks. Her head was bent to the side as the tide caused her blonde hair to dance amongst the reddening water. His head fell backwards, and he screamed an unholy animal sound of loss. The sound of a heart being crushed. Staring back down at her he willed her to move. Wanting her to take a deep breath, stand up and walk away.
'How will I tell Stuart?' he whispered, and slumped to his knees on the walkway. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
White colour flooded into his knuckles as he grabbed the length of the twisted cable. The soldier of a lifetime of missions took over. Gibbs snarled in anger as he forced himself to his feet. With a scream of rage, he grabbed the belt from his waist and slipped it off. He wrapped it around his thigh and tied it over the wound to keep the pressure on it.
The building five door slammed open, and he raised his Glock to cover Warren, who came running out, an M27 in his hand.
'Where are they?'
Gibbs clenched his jaw and pointed down to the ground.
Warren looked over the railing, and he stood open-mouthed.
'Warren?' Gibbs said.
'Warren!' he shouted.
Warren looked up, his face a ghostly white. Tears filling his eyes.
'Fetch Smithy now, and get down there. Fetch her body before the tide takes her away.’
Warren nodded.
'Warren! Move it,' Gibbs shouted. ‘Can you to do this for me?'
'Where…where are you going?'
'To finish it.'
Chapter 42
Roosevelt Island, New York, NY, USA- 2033
The pain throbbed up into his side as he limped on the wounded leg. Adrenaline would serve as a great painkiller for a while, keeping him focused. Ripping the door open, Gibbs stepped into building six.
'Nowhere left to hide, Butler,' he shouted, scanning the open area.
It had once been a canteen or restaurant, with tables and chairs piled up against one of the walls and two old couches piled up on top of one another. Gl
ass and debris were strewn all over the floor. He walked towards a body of a man lying near the internal stairwell doors, which had been blown open. Shredder's work no doubt. Stopping for a few seconds, he realised he had lost another dear friend in pursuit of Butler. Grieving would have to wait.
Looking at his Glock, he realised it was empty and that he had no more magazines in his webbing. Kneeling next to a dead man in khaki, he picked up the old M16 and checked the magazine. It was full. Rummaging around in the pouches on the man's waist belt, he came up with two more. A scrape of a boot on concrete drew his gaze away.
Creeping backwards, a step at a time, he kept the M16 trained on the door. He had no idea how many men could be coming up, and whether they were friend or foe. Grimacing as he knelt down, he slowly moved forward to lie on his stomach. The cold concrete cooled his sweating body.
Looking at the door down the sights of the M16, he knew that if Butler was coming through the doorway, he would send a man or two in first. His finger slipped down to the trigger, and he squeezed gently. The first man, one of Butler's khaki brigade, slipped through the doorway with another man right behind him.
The M16 roared, sending the first man to his knees, and the second was about to scream when a bullet hit him in the head. A third rounded the corner and fired three times. The bullets were all aimed too high and hit the couches at the back of the room. Gibbs fired once into the man's shoulder and then a second time into his stomach.
He kept the M16 lined up with the door, waiting for a few seconds. There was just silence. Struggling to his feet with the help of the weapon, he limped over to the man, whose eyes watched him all the way.
Gibbs cleared the stairwell, sweeping the M16 up and down and waited. He heard no further sound.
'Where is Butler?'
The man smiled and lifted his middle finger.
'Did you pass him on your way up?'
'Get fucked.'
'That man just murdered my wife, so I’m in no mood for your shit,' he said and knelt next to the man. 'My thigh hurts like hell too so here is what's going to happen. You are going to tell me everything or I will hurt you.'
Gibbs grabbed the man's shoulder and thrust his thumb into the bloody bullet wound. The man's face contorted for a second, and then he screamed out in pain.
'Tell me, did you pass Butler on the way up here? Easy question,' he said, squeezing even more.
'He didn’t come down, I swear. We've been trapped on the landing just below this floor for quite a while. I heard someone running upstairs and then slamming the door,' the man said.
Gibbs groaned as he stood up and then turned to start walking upstairs.
'Hey, mister. I am bleeding out here. I told you everything, can you get some help for me?'
Gibbs looked down at the man and his eyes narrowed. 'You picked the wrong side to die for today. I wish you luck.'
• • •
'Suck up the pain, Francis,' the darkness screamed inside his head as he squeezed his eyes closed. Two bullets had hit him, one below the shoulder and another had flicked his backside, leaving a bloody hole. Shallow breaths escaped his lungs as he stumbled forward, pain burning into him with every step.
The wind buffeted into him as he walked towards the large air-conditioning unit in front of him. All around him he could hear shots and explosions. Spinning around slowly, he realised that he had drifted onto the roof in a daze. He could see the red and white stacks of the Con Edison Plant, then the Ed Koch Bridge, then Manhattan Island. The ship had just passed below the bridge and was coming alongside the island on the rising tide. He felt his lips start to quiver as fear welled up inside him.
'They will never let you get away with this, you snivelling little man,' the darkness said, as tears ran down his gaunt cheeks. ‘Man up and take your medicine. ‘
Standing on the top of the building, he sobbed as the darkness mocked him. ‘Gibbs will follow us here, his anger will demand revenge. You can jump to your death and take your own life, or you can finish your plan, and kill him. Even your mother was stronger than you.’
Lord Butler looked down at the dagger wedged into his belt.
• • •
Gibbs looked around the sixth-floor and saw very few places to hide. Pigeons had been roosting on the ground amongst a pile of twigs and guano. All of the windows had been smashed, so the wind howled through, twirling loose pieces of plastic bags around the wooden floor. Turning towards the last flight of stairs, Gibbs stopped for a second. He listened. No noise to speak of.
What are you up to, Butler?
Grimacing as he limped up the stairs, he was now slowing up with the stiffening leg. A narrow metal door now stood between him and the roof. The wind gently whistled through a gap beneath the door. Kneeling down, he peered through the gap and could just see the brightly lit black roof covering outside. With a shoulder shove the door swung open, clattering against the wall on the other side.
Lifting the M16, he waited inside the door for a few seconds as his eyes grew accustomed to the bright midday sun. Most of the roof was visible from his position, and he glanced at the several metal air intakes and two large air conditioning units that were the size of a small family car. Stepping out, he scanned to his left and realised that the stairwell was flush with the side of the building, so his left flank was clear. Turning to his right, he sidled up to the corner and waited, listening for any sound. No sound but the gusting wind. A gull called from somewhere above him.
As he looked around the corner a butt of a rifle hurtled towards him, and he snapped his head back just as it clipped the corner brick, bouncing off the top of Gibbs's head. Pain shot through him, and he groaned as he staggered back a step. The soldier came running around the corner, holding his M27 by the barrel, and swinging it like a lumberjack axe.
Gibbs charged forward, tackling the large man beneath the arc of the swinging M27. He drove with his good leg and they both went over backwards, Gibbs landing on the man whose large fists started swinging up at him.
Gibbs reached to his belt and pulled out his hunting knife. Twisting his body slightly, he was able to angle the blade from under his opponent's ribcage, up into his heart. The man's big arms stopped swinging, as a gasping breath came from his lips. Gibbs rolled off and sat up on the hot bitumen that covered the roof. Long breaths helped focus his gaze as he looked around the roof.
• • •
'No!' screamed Andrei as he stood looking at Warren and Smithy. They had laid Christina's body out on a black tarpaulin in an attempt to dry her off. He looked across at two NAG soldiers who were doing their best to entertain Stuart on the other side of the first floor.
'Cover her up, please,' he whispered, wiping away the tears from his eyes. He stared out the window to the next building before grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Placing one in his teeth he chewed on it as he did before lighting it. 'Where is Gibbs now?'
'He's crossed over to building six, and I assume went up to the roof. We have men sweeping all the lower floors, and they have captured some prisoners, but no Butler or Gibbs,' Warren said.
'Damn it! Okay, stay here, I will take some men and get up there. The NAG and NEG want Butler alive to stand trial.'
Smithy stepped forward, pointing to Christina. ‘You are fucking joking, right. He has every right to kill that bastard.'
'Yes, I agree, but it doesn't matter what we believe. They want to make a public example out of Butler, and if Gibbs kills him, he will rob them of that and so will be sent back to prison.'
'That is just bullshit,' Warren said. 'They will just sentence Butler to death anyway.'
Andrei nodded. 'I have just had a call saying that the stockpiles of Kharon vaccine in Boston have been destroyed in a fire. We need to find out if there were any others.’
'There must be others in his organisation who can give you that information,' Smithy said.
'They want someone to pay for all of this, gentlemen,' Andrei said and walked to the stai
rwell. 'Butler is that person.'
Chapter 43
Roosevelt Island, New York, NY, USA- 2033
Limping across the roof to the air-conditioning units, Gibbs saw the two black boots come into view first. Lord Butler was sitting with his back to the brick wall of the air-con unit. His head leant back against a small metal panel, his eyes squinting into the bright light. Gibbs walked around in an arc, looking down at the man who had killed so many.
'I hope you are praying for a nice room in Hell, Butler. Begging for mercy will just fall on deaf ears. You will get none.'
‘You talk too much, Gibbs, just like that bitch of a wife of yours.’
'Get up you, sack of shit,' Gibbs shouted, his finger on the trigger of the M16 which he carried across his chest.
'So, Captain Gibbs? It all comes down to this,' Lord Butler said, and held out his right hand.
'Get the fuck up yourself, Butler,' Gibbs snarled.
Lord Butler leaned forward onto his right hand and with a laboured groan, got to his feet, blood trickling down his left stump. He smiled at Gibbs and swayed a little.
'Let's talk about a deal, Gibbs.'
'No more deals for you.'
'Don't you think I have already paid for my crimes, Gibbs? I mean, just look at me,' he said holding up his left stump. 'I am a one-armed, emaciated bloody cripple.'
'What about all the people who have died because of your crazed greed? Do you want me to list all their names? How does your arm make up for them?'
'Well, you had the satisfaction of taking my arm, Gibbs, and now it seems they may have to remove more of it. That should make up for all your loss. And I am prepared to sign over half of all that I have to you. You'll be a bloody billionaire. Think of the type of life you can give to that brat of yours.'
Gibbs tensed up and looked into the dark eyes of the gaunt man in front of him. There was no fear in there. No yearning to survive. He had interrogated many men on the brink of death. He knew what fear looked like in another man's eyes. This was all some elaborate play.
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