The Becket Approval

by Falconer, Duncan

  ‘The only time I’ve seen a phone as sanitised as this was in the GRU. Nice software. Very practical for someone who works for military intelligence. Is that what you do?’

  Gunnymede blinked heavily as the sweat ran into his eyes.

  Krilov nodded to Ashio who sprayed Gunnymede again. Gunnymede screamed in utter agony as soon as the liquid touched his skin. His body arched on the bedsprings, his mouth wide open. The green substance bubbled, dripping onto the floor where a whiff of mist floated from it.

  ‘You know this stuff?’ Krilov asked him. ‘You play with it before? In Afghanistan or Iraq maybe? Yeah, Maybe you Brits don’t have it yet. Americans have it. They call it speak juice. We call it dopros vody – interrogation water. It’s the new water board. Our boys came up with it when cooking up new assassination compounds. It don’t kill but it sure as hell hurts. But you know that already. Somehow makes nerves ten times more painful. Bad stuff, eh?’

  Gunnymede regained composure as the pain subsided.

  ‘What you doing here?’ Krilov asked him.

  ‘You raped Megan Henderson,’ Gunnymede said between panting.

  Krilov chuckled. ‘You here ’cause I raped Jack’s daughter. That’s funny ’cause I raped Jack’s daughter ’cause he wanted to kill me. Wait, I change that. I didn’t rape her. Ashio did that. Ashio had the fun. I gave the order. You know, Jack, right? SAS.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you know Megan? How is she?’

  ‘She’s dead.’

  Krilov’s expression turned thoughtful. ‘Dead? That’s tough. How’d she die? Ashio wasn’t that hard on her.’

  ‘Suicide.’

  Krilov gave Ashio a chastising look. ‘That’s bad news. That was not the plan. So tell me. Why did Jack want to kill me? He was snooping round my house. Same as you. I found him the same way I found you but he wasn’t so nosy to break into my stuff and he got away before I could catch him. So I punished him. Ah. I know. You’re an assassin. Jack sent you to kill me. Revenge for his daughter. That’s why you have no ID.’

  ‘No one sent me.’

  ‘No? So why you here?’

  ‘Megan was my friend.’

  ‘Friend? Ah. So this is personal.’

  He studied Gunnymede. Considering something. He said something to Ashio. Ashio put down the interrogation juice, removed his gas-mask and gloves and walked out of the building.

  ‘I want to find out who you are but I’m bored with the modern methods. I like the old fashion ways. We have all night.’

  Krilov dug out his own phone to make a call and walked away.

  Bethan drove hard along the M3 motorway, past a sign for Winchester. Her emergency lights strobed brightly, motorists moving over to let her whiz along the fast lane.

  Krilov sat talking into his phone while Gunnymede lay in front of him. He was in serious trouble and talking wasn’t going to get him out of it. Krilov finished his call, got to his feet, stretched his back and walked towards the far end of the building to make another.

  Gunnymede shook the sweat from around his eyes to take a thorough look at his surroundings. The plasticuffs securing his hands looped through the curved bar that served as the headboard. The right end slotted over the horizontal post that supported that corner of the bed. A bolt passed through holes in both of them, the only thing holding the bar in place.

  Gunnymede shuffled the plasticuffs along the bar, around the curve and down to the bolt where he contorted to get a hold of both ends of it. The nut turned and he started to unscrew it.

  Krilov reached the end and turned to walk slowly back, still on the phone. Gunnymede watched him as he turned the screw. Krilov glanced at him. Gunnymede stopped. Krilov went back to his call. Gunnymede felt the screw thread. There was a good centimetre left to undo.

  Ashio returned carrying a large moulded plastic box, a roll of plastic sheeting and a bucket. He put them by the bed and took a moment to place a cigarette between his lips. He was about to light it when Krilov ripped it from his mouth, slapped him around the face, knocking the cigarette away, and verbally abused him, pointing to the explosives in the room.

  Ashio looked most apologetic as Krilov shook his head and went back to his phone. Ashio spread the plastic sheeting beneath the bed and positioned the bucket directly under Gunnymede’s head. He removed a well-used electric chain saw from the plastic box, unravelled the cable and plugged it into a socket in the wall. A quick flick of a switch and the roar filled the room as the tooth-covered chain spun around the chain guide. He grinned at Gunnymede as he gunned the motor. Krilov appeared in front of him holding up his phone and looking irritated.

  Ashio turned off the chain saw, put it down and Krilov went back to his call.

  Ashio looked around aimlessly. Nothing to do. He took out his cigarette pack, looked at Krilov, and walked the length of the building and outside.

  Krilov was walking away. Gunnymede shuffled his hands back to the bolt to continued unscrewing it. Krilov reached the end of the room and turned about, pausing as his discussion became heated. Ashio walked back inside exhaling smoke. Gunnymede turned the nut furiously. Ashio was halfway along the building when the nut flew off and bounced along the floor. Gunnymede rolled onto his back.

  Ashio stood on the nut, picked up the chainsaw and looked at Krilov who had just finished his phone call. Gunnymede looked at the bolt that was still through the holes. Ashio held up the chainsaw to Krilov who signalled him to commence. Ashio started the chainsaw, revving it for affect and closed on Gunnymede. The teeth rattled around the end of the saw. Gunnymede didn’t take his eyes off it. As Ashio lowered it to cut off one of Gunnymede’s hands the chainsaw jerked in his grasp and died. The thug looked back to see the plug had come out of the socket. The cable had looped around a chair.

  Ashio un-looped it resignedly and went over to the plug to push it back in. Gunnymede deftly removed the bolt. The chainsaw burst into life and Ashio advanced on Gunnymede once again. The thug leaned above him and lowered the spinning chain towards his hand. Gunnymede pushed up the bar disconnecting it from the bed and swung it across his body to block the saw. Sparks flew wildly as the teeth struck it. Gunnymede heaved up with all his strength, snapping the other end of the bar from the bed post and pushing the chainsaw upwards. Ashio’s foot slipped on the plastic sheeting and he fell back, losing his grip on the chainsaw which fell onto his neck, cutting into it. His scream lasted but a second as blood filled his throat. He threw the saw aside but the damage had been done. Blood gushed through his fingers as he held his neck in an attempt to stem the flow.

  Krilov was the other end of the room and unaware of what had happened at first. When he saw Gunnymede sitting up and struggling to release his feet he ran towards him.

  Gunnymede could see he wasn’t going to free himself before the Russian arrived. He grabbed up the roaring chainsaw and swung it over his body to sever the bonds securing his feet. As Krilov closed in, Gunnymede sprang off the bed and extended the chainsaw to meet him but as he made his lunge the plug popped out of the socket, killing it. Encouraged, Krilov closed the gap with malice in his eyes. Gunnymede threw the chainsaw at him, looked around, grabbed the interrogation water and as Krilov came at him he squeezed the trigger sending a jet of liquid into the Russian’s face. It glowed fiercely for a few seconds. Krilov screamed like a banshee and fell to the ground as the liquid bubbled his flesh. He shrieked as he held his face, the liquid covering his hands, adding to his pain. Gunnymede picked up the headboard bar and raised it to bring it down hard on Krilov’s head. At that very moment, somewhere in Gunnymede’s consciousness, he was aware of movement at the building entrance. He paused long enough to look and saw Bethan, her taser in her outstretched hands aimed at him. Before he could process another thought she fired and a dart flew into him on the end of its fine wire. The shock tore through his body and he dropped the bar and fell to his knees as he went into spasm.

  Krilov scurried away on his hands and knees until he could get
to his feet and stumble through the room, bouncing off shelves and boxes and out the door.

  Gunnymede ripped the dart from his body with a shaking hand as he fought to recover. ‘What are you doing?!’ he shouted.

  ‘Stopping you from killing him!’

  Gunnymede fought to get to his feet. ‘Jesus Christ!’ he yelled at the top of his voice, as much to deal with the pain as well as his frustration.

  ‘You need to calm down.’

  ‘He was killing me!’

  ‘That’s not what I saw.’

  Gunnymede looked for Krilov. ‘He got away?’

  ‘This is not the way to solve this, Devon.’

  Gunnymede tottered towards the entrance.

  ‘Don’t, Devon. I’m prepared to stop you,’ she said, reloading her Taser. ‘Frankly I thought better of you.’

  Gunnymede ignored her.

  ‘I’m warning you,’ she called out as she brought the taser up on aim.

  He reached the doors.

  ‘Stop right there!’ she called out.

  He stopped. But not because she told him to. The pair of Rottweilers were bearing down on the entrance at full speed. Gunnymede grabbed the door and only managed to slam it shut as the beasts threw themselves at it with a heavy thump, snarling and growling in murderous frustration. He pushed against the door, barely keeping it closed while he looked for a way to lock it. There was a bolt at the top. He threw it across.

  Bethan held her fire, confused by his actions.

  He stepped back. The door was holding. He hurried to his clothes and pulled on his shirt and jacket. ‘We have a problem.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘We need to get out of here. What are you doing here? Doesn’t matter,’ he said, grabbing his phone.

  ‘I’m sorry, Devon, but I’m going to have to arrest you.’

  ‘He’s coming back and with friends.’

  ‘Are you surprised he’s angry? I’ll talk to him. He’ll be fine when I explain I’m taking you into custody.’

  ‘He’s coming back to kill us,’ Gunnymede said in exasperation as he grabbed a pistol off a shelf. ‘You and me both. Can you see any 9mm ammunition?’

  ‘Put that down! Are you insane?’

  ‘Listen to me. That is not an ordinary man.’ He continued to look through the shelves.

  She followed him, trying to get his attention. ‘No, you listen to me. It doesn’t matter who he is. We’re not in a war zone. This is England. You can’t solve your problems this way. Oh my God!’ She exclaimed as she almost stepped on Ashio’s lifeless body. Ashio’s hands were around his throat, his eyes open wide and blood everywhere.

  ‘That would’ve been me seconds before you got here,’ Gunnymede said as he considered some grenades and changed his mind.

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘I didn’t catch his name.’ Gunnymede found a box of magazines that fitted his pistol and continued to look for bullets.

  ‘You killed him?’

  ‘Are you taking anything in?’

  ‘Dear God! You’re out of control!’ She aimed her taser at him. He grabbed it, tossed it away and held her shoulders to face him. ‘Take a look around you. This isn’t a normal man cave. Krilov is Russian special forces. He probably works for the GRU. And he’s coming back here with friends to kill the both of us. Am I getting through to you?’

  Bethan took a closer look at a shelf packed with guns and explosives. The penny dropped. She pulled out her phone. ‘I’ll call my people.’

  He stopped her with a raised hand as he tried to listen.

  ‘Let me call my boss,’ she insisted.

  ‘Shh! The dogs have stopped barking.’

  The sound of an electric motor came from outside. It became a heavy, gnawing buzz as it touched the brickwork of the building. A big drill.

  ‘What is that?’ Bethan asked.

  ‘They’re drilling a hole.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They want to kill us without setting off the munitions.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘What comes through a hole and kills everyone inside a confined space and isn’t water? Add to that he’s Russian, he’s not subtle and has access to a lot of bad toys.’

  She took a second to think. ‘Gas?’

  ‘You’re catching on,’ he said regarding the mere pistol in his hand and threw it down. It wasn’t going to be enough.

  He grabbed a block of plastic explosives, detonators, fuse wire and matches, found a knife, cut off a piece of fuse wire, pushed the end into a detonator and crimped it with his teeth.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Trying to get us out of here,’ he said as he pushed the detonator into the explosives.

  She got back to her phone and started to key in a number as a drill bit burst through the far wall. The drill wiggled about a bit before it was withdrawn.

  ‘Block the hole,’ Gunnymede ordered urgently. ‘Quickly!’

  She hurried off as he went to the opposite end of the building and cleared away a pile of crates to expose the wall. He dug Ashio’s lighter from his pocket and got to work.

  Bethan went to the drill hole, looked around, found a piece of cloth, shoved it into the hole and got her weight behind a crate and pushed it in front of it.

  A moment later a metal rod shot through the hole, dislodging the cloth and punching the crate back. She looked back at Gunnymede for help but he was busy with his own task.

  She needed something more effective. A box of tools was by the door and she sorted through them, found a screwdriver and a hammer and went back to the hole. She placed the screwdriver into the hole and hammered it home as hard as she could.

  It looked solid.

  Seconds later a sledge hammer slammed against the outer wall and a large scab broke away to fall at her feet. She stepped back as another blow sent more shattered brickwork into the room. Another and a hole appeared, large enough to place a hand through.

  Outside, Krilov stood back watching three of his men at work against the wall, all wearing Russian made military biological and chemical warfare suits. One of them was preparing what looked like a sophisticated high pressure gas bottle system with a rubber hose attached to a complex valve head. They fed the hose in through the hole and turned the valve.

  Bethan stepped back further as the end of the hose poked through the hole. It was certainly ominous. An orange gas gushed from the hose, slowly at first then increasing in volume. It was heavier than air and gathered on the floor in an ever increasing cloud. As the gas accumulated it began to spread like a thick ground smog.

  Bethan backed away and hurried down the room, stepping over the dead thug to join Gunnymede. ‘Whatever it is, it’s coming,’ she said.

  Gunnymede concentrated on what he was doing.

  ‘It’s an orange gas,’ she said.

  ‘Got it,’ he said putting the finishing touches to his work.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘No idea,’ he said as he propped the lump of explosive against the wall and straightened the trailing fuse wire. He placed boxes and furniture against it and held up the lighter. ‘When I light it we have a minute before it goes. Understood? Go to the corner behind those boxes.’

  She quickly obeyed and crouched behind them.

  He lit the fuse and joined her, pulling more crates in front of them and using his body to protect her. He leaned round to look for the gas but couldn’t see anything from where he was. Not at first. Then a wisp of orange mist drifted between shelving halfway down the room and oozed along the floor towards them.

  ‘I take it that will kill us?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t think it’s going to make us laugh.’

  The gas spread the width of the room as the leading edge rolled towards them.

  ‘How much would we need to breathe before it kills us?’

  ‘If it’s nerve gas, none. A droplet on the skin will be enough.’

  The hissing fuse burned s
mokily and went out of sight behind the boxes. It was too slow for Gunnymede’s liking, the gas moving far too quickly. When it was metres from their outstretched feet they instinctively pulled them in.

  They pressed themselves against the wall as the orange wave drew closer. The charge should’ve detonated by now. The gas was within a fingers-reach of their legs.

  The explosion was ear-splitting in the confined space and rocked the building so violently it felt like the entire structure might collapse. The blast reached out, the shockwave throwing back everything in its path, including the gas. Debris hit Gunnymede’s back as he shielded Bethan. Most importantly, the blast created a large hole sending bricks across the farm yard.

  Smoke and dust filled the room. Gunnymede grabbed Bethan’s arm and yanked her with him. Unable to see much, both coughing, Gunnymede felt his way along the wall, stumbling over rubble until he reached the edge of the crumbling hole and stepped through it.

  Gunnymede kept hold of Bethan’s arm as he broke into a run, out of the dust and into the night air.

  ‘My car,’ she said, pointing.

  They ran towards it and climbed in. She struggled to find her key. Gunnymede looked over his shoulder anxiously. There was no sign of pursuers. She found the key, dropped it on the floor, scrambled to pick it up while he bit his lip in an effort to resist offering encouragement. She started the engine and screeched away, turning in a tight circle and towards the lane that ran up the hill into woodland. Gunnymede looked back again to see if they were being followed but there was nothing but smoke.

  She drove as fast as she dared along the lane, up the hill through the trees and down the other side.

  ‘Left,’ he said as she reached the main road which she turned sharply onto. ‘That’s my bike,’ he said a few hundred yards later.

  She pulled over and stopped, leaving the engine running while she gathered herself.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so. You?’

  He opened the door, climbed out painfully and stretched his back. He pulled up his trouser legs to inspect his skin by the glow from the car's lights. The skin was red, covered in a rash, but otherwise it seemed okay.