“Give it up,” said Sarah. “You ain’t climbing out of here. Even if I give you a boost, you won’t get your shoulders through. Just stay calm. Everything will work out.”
He turned on her, red in the face. “How can you say that? How can you say that? I… I want my mum. I want to see my dad. This is the worst day of my life.” He yanked at his hair. “Jesus, this is the worst day of my life.”
“And soon it’ll be over, so things can only get better, huh?”
He knelt and picked up a shard of glass, holding it out like a dagger. “Stop talking.”
Sarah rushed to her feet, her body so battered and exhausted that it was like moving through quicksand. “Put that down, Ollie. I’m going to take care of everything, okay? But I need you to stop panicking.”
The glass shard was only a few inches long, but sharp enough to do damage. If the kid made a move, Sarah would have to take him down hard. Ollie Simpson might have a broken arm in his near future.
But Ollie didn’t attack Sarah. He turned the glass on himself, exposing his left wrist.
“Ollie, don’t!”
With an anguished yell, he began stabbing at himself. The glass shard made a sloppy punching sound. Blood came quickly.
Sarah tackled Oliver, pinning his arms to his sides and barking at him to drop the glass. She squeezed him harder and harder until he had no choice but to let go of the weapon. As soon as the shard hit the ground, he sobbed uncontrollably. Sarah held him for a second before twisting around to inspect the damage. He had several bloody pockmarks on his wrist but had failed to open a vein. His right hand was sliced in a dozen places.
“I can’t even kill myself properly.” He whimpered in pain. “Please, just do it for me.”
“I ain’t killing you, kid. Believe it or not, life is always worth living. Ollie, do you hear me?”
The door swung open and Thomas entered. “What’s going on?” he demanded, although his tone lacked authority. “Oliver? Are you bleeding?”
Ollie moved back over to the wall and slumped to the ground. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his bloody wrist around them. He stared at the floor, sobbing quietly.
“He’s fine,” said Sarah. “He just lost it for a moment. Unintentional mass murder can do that to a person, I guess. Anyway, what the fuck do you want, Thomas Gellar, director of the MCU?” She spat the words out like poison in her mouth, sickened by the absurdity of them. She also wanted to make sure she was getting everything recorded on her bug. With any luck, her phone would still be close enough to save the audio. “Me and the kid were about to start a good old game of I-spy. You ain’t invited.”
Thomas grunted irritably. Sarah’s Sig was tucked into his belt, and she fantasied about grabbing it and blowing off his nuts. “Sarah, do you understand how screwed you are? Maxim has sent me in here to…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“To prove your loyalty?” she offered helpfully.
He nodded, still seemingly unable to say it. “Let him buy you off, okay? Take a bribe, beg for your life. Do whatever you have to do. Work for Maxim and you can have anything you want. Do you know how many gangs he’s taken apart? He’s cleaning house. He can feed you intel on every criminal in the south. And that’s only the beginning. Join him. Join us.”
“Join you and I can have everything, huh?”
Thomas begged her with his eyes. “Please. It’s the only option.”
“And how many innocent people would I have to murder, huh? I’m sorry, Thomas, but you and I are different people. Like I told you earlier, there was always going to be a moment when you had to decide what kind of man you wanted to be. I guess this is it.” She put her arms out to her sides, presenting a wider target. “Get it over with.”
Thomas took Sarah’s Sig from his waistband and reluctantly pointed it at her chest. “I don’t want to do this.”
“I imagine there’s a lot of things you haven’t wanted to do, but you did them anyway. What difference will one more little murder make? Come on. Shoot me and finish what you started in Afghanistan. You broke my heart. Now it’s time for you to destroy it.”
Thomas took a breath, held it, and said goodbye.
Sarah always imagined dying at the end of a gun barrel, but she hadn’t ever pictured Thomas being the one to pull the trigger. He looked her in the eye, breath held, index finger twitching, seconds away from ending her life.
“Just do it,” she spat. This had never been part of the plan, but somehow it didn’t matter. Thomas knew nothing of Howard and Mattock’s involvement in the investigation to take him down, so while Sarah might die here, it wouldn’t save Thomas. There was a delicious irony in that. Her murder would be the final burden around his neck while he rotted in prison. “Man up and pull the trigger. Come on, do it!”
Thomas growled, and with a pained yell he lowered the gun. “I can’t kill you, Sarah. I can’t do it.” He raised his voice, seeming to shout to someone outside the room. Sure enough, Matt came inside, shaking his head.
“Maxim won’t be happy about this,” the crooked SCO19 officer warned, then he threw a thumb towards the door. “Get out. I’ll deal with this.”
Thomas gave Sarah a look that seemed to say a million different things at once, yet at the same time said nothing at all. He slunk out of the room like a scolded dog, too weak to be the one to kill her, too cowardly to keep someone else from doing it.
Matt closed the door and waited. He had his MP5, but it remained by his side. He took a step towards Sarah and reached for her face. “Shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hit you that hard, but I had to make it look real.”
Sarah shook her head, broken nose throbbing. “What are you talking about, you piece of shit?”
He put a finger to his lips and looked sideways. In a whisper, he said, “I work for the NCA. We’ve been tracking Maxim’s operation since it entered our shores. I’m on your side.”
“What? I don’t believe you. The MCU would have been kept in the loop about an operation like that.”
“We have been keeping the MCU in the loop. Turns out your director is bent.”
Sarah cursed. “Damn it. Thomas must have kept it to himself. If I’d known the National Crime Agency was after Maxim, I would’ve shared intel. You’re really undercover?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you step inside sooner? Thomas could have executed me.”
“There was nothing I could do except hope he wouldn’t go through with it. I’m sorry, but taking down Maxim Ivanov is my priority.”
“That’s cold. I’ll remember that when it’s your arse on the line.”
Matt grew restless, looking back and forth between her and the door. “Look, I’ve been undercover as a member of SCO19 for a year now. At first, I started taking bribes from small-time crooks, knowing it would eventually get back to Maxim that I could be bought. Then, four months ago, he finally reached out. I’ve been gathering evidence against him ever since, until you came along and pushed the timeline forward by about eighteen months. I’m winging it here, okay? I’ll be thankful if either of us gets out of this alive.”
Sarah sighed. If Matt had intervened earlier, it might have got them both killed. She understood why he had risked her death. “What are we going to do now?” she asked.
“Maxim is waiting for transport. As soon as it arrives, he’s going to go into hiding. I have guys waiting outside for my signal, but I’m not sure they’re going to be able to deal with all of Maxim’s guys. How is your end of things?”
“I’m not sure. Fingers crossed.”
Matt grimaced. “Maxim sent me in here to kill you if Thomas couldn’t do it. How do you want to play that out?”
Sarah rubbed at her eyes and winced at the pressure on her mangled nose. “You reckon you can manage a flesh wound?”
He nodded. “You ready?”
Ollie stood up and caught both their attention. “What’s happening? I don’t understand.”
Matt snapp
ed his fingers. “Quiet, kid. Play along and you’ll get out of this alive.”
“We’re the good guys, remember?” said Sarah, nodding at him. “When it comes to Maxim and us, make sure you choose right.” She turned back to Matt. “You’re really a double agent?”
“You’ll know for sure after I shoot you.”
She went to reply, but before she had a chance, Matt pulled his MP5 up and shot her. The bullet struck her somewhere low. The pain was so enormous that her entire body fizzed in agony. She fell to the ground, unable to breathe and barely able to see. Her hands moved of their own volition, exploring her body. They came back bloody. She fought against shock, her ears ringing, her eyes blurry. Matt had lied. She was dying.
Matt knelt beside her and shushed her. “I shot you in the top of your thigh. Relax and breathe. Get a hold of the pain. You need to play dead.”
Blood seemed to be everywhere. Sarah scanned her lower body until she located the cause of the bleeding. Matt had indeed shot her at the top of the thigh, just below her groin. It hurt like hell, but it had been an expert shot. The wound should heal, minus any infection. Most importantly of all, it was a bleeder.
Sarah soaked her hands in her own blood and rubbed them over her stomach, trying to disguise the entry wound and make it appear as though she could have been shot anywhere from her abdomen downwards. Ollie hopped back and forth in a panic, but she had to ignore the kid and play dead. She bit down on her lip and pushed the agony to the back of her mind. Once she had a hold of it, she slumped onto her side and closed her eyes. And just in the nick of time, because the door opened and someone rushed inside.
It was Cosmo. “Gellar says he could not do killing. I come to take care of bitch myself, but I hear gunshot. What is going on?”
“It’s already done,” said Matt. “She’s dead. Is Maxim ready to go?”
“Yes, Mad Scot just arrived. We need to bring boy.”
“You grab him,” said Matt. “I’ll keep a gun on him in case he tries to run.”
Sarah had her eyes closed, but she heard and felt footsteps right in front of her.
“You sure that bitch is dead?”
“Yeah. Forget about her.”
“She kill Sergei. I wanted to see her suffer.”
“Suffering is overrated, and dead is dead. Come on, let’s grab the kid and go.”
“Fine.”
Ollie yelped. “I don’t want to go.”
“Shut up, boy. You do what is told.”
“Leave me alone.”
There was a struggle.
“You come, or I beat you and then you come.”
“No.”
“Okay. Is your choice.”
There was the sound of a beating, Ollie on the receiving end. Sarah could do nothing but play dead and listen.
“Leave him alone,” said Matt. “We need to leave.”
“Stop!” Ollie begged. “Please, stop!”
Cosmo laughed. “Not until I see you piss pants.”
“Please, no, wait. She’s alive. She’s alive!”
Cosmo didn’t reply for a moment. Then: “What do you say?”
“She’s faking,” said Ollie. “She’s not dead. He didn’t kill her. He’s lying.”
Matt scoffed. “Shut your mouth, kid.”
“What is boy talking about?” Cosmo demanded.
“He’s playing games. Let’s just—”
“I’m playing games. Check her. She’s not dead. She’s faking.”
Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d been wrong about Ollie. When faced with a choice, the kid would always choose himself.
Same as Thomas.
“I have easy solution,” said Cosmo. “I shoot again and see if dead.”
“The kid is lying,” said Matt. “Let’s just get out of—”
“You do not speak,” said Cosmo. “If she is alive, then you will not be.”
Matt sighed. “Okay, fine, shoot her again if it makes you happy. Waste the bullet.”
“It is bullet I will enjoy putting in bitch’s face. I shall squeeze trigger slowly and—”
Ollie yelped. “Look out!”
Sarah opened her eyes just in time to see Cosmo flop to the ground beside her, eyes glazed over. Matt stood in the centre of the room with his MP5 held aloft, having obviously struck Cosmo with its heavy composite stock. He quickly offered Sarah a hand and she took it, pulling herself to her feet. She thanked him, despite the sharp pain and her pounding heart making her breathless. “I almost forgive you for earlier.”
Matt chuckled, although he was visibly rattled by their current predicament. He picked up Cosmo’s handgun and handed it to Sarah. It was an old Beretta with half a clip, but it would have to do. She turned and pointed the gun at Ollie, who was now cowering against the wall. “Poor choice, kid.”
“Please!” He threw up his hands. “If he found out you were alive – and that I knew about it – he would have hurt me.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’m going to hurt you. Come ’ere.”
Ollie squealed as she grabbed him, and while it wasn’t usually her policy to take a human shield, the kid had earned it. She held the old Beretta over his shoulder, jealous of Matt’s MP5.
Matt grabbed his radio and sent a series of squelches over the airwaves. It was a signal to his team. He looked at Sarah and told her, “We’re on. If you’re the praying type, now would be a good time.”
“I ain’t.”
“Me either, so I guess we get moving.”
The three of them crept out of the office and into the hallway. It was empty, but voices came from the factory floor nearby.
Matt whispered. “Maxim has about three million in coke, weed, and guns loaded up on those vans out there. He’ll use it to buy favours, and trade for cash while he beds down for a while. He does it every time things get too hot. It gives him time to pay off corrupt officials and threaten witnesses. Once the heat is off, he’ll crawl back out of his hole.”
“He’s not getting out of here.” Sarah clutched the Beretta tightly. “If we let him escape, everything he does afterwards will be on us. Every stolen penny. Every death.”
“Are you always this much of a martyr?”
“Yes.”
Matt crouched at the door to the factory floor. Sarah warned Ollie to stay quiet, and thankfully he did. Together, they waited until they heard breaking glass followed by a loud bang. Two seconds later, smoke crept underneath the door.
“There’s our cue,” said Matt and he kicked open the door. He immediately swept right, firing his MP5 at figures in the grey smoke. Sarah swept right, keeping Ollie in front of her. The kid wailed like a World War Two siren.
Gunfire came from everywhere.
Men shouted back and forth in Russian.
Sarah aimed a shot and hit someone. The target twirled and fell.
Matt fired controlled bursts from his MP5, moving further and further away.
The stench of smoke and spent gunpowder polluted the air.
More windows shattered. Gruff voices barked orders back and forth in English. It was SCO19 breaching the building. Sarah coughed and rubbed at her stinging eyes with the back of her gun hand. Ollie had fallen silent, but she felt him trembling. Bullets flew invisibly through the thick smoke, each one an angry wasp ready to kill in an instant.
This was a war zone.
“Damn it.” Sarah shoved Ollie away from her and yelled at him over the din. “Get down on the floor and find somewhere to hide. Try to run, and I’ll find you and shoot you.”
Ollie nodded and scampered away.
Sarah entered an awkward combat stance, staying low and constantly moving, but she did so with a limp. There were targets everywhere in the smoke, but it was hard to discern friend from foe. Likewise, there was only one man she was interested in finding and killing.
Maxim stood at the rear of the factory, next to the three parked vans. A pair of large shutters had opened, allowing the smoke to clear. Several
men surrounded Maxim, seeking targets, but they didn’t see Sarah. She took aim, hoping the old Beretta was accurate enough to hit a target at twenty metres.
This might be my only chance.
She sensed movement to her right and turned just in time to avoid a punch to the side of her head. Evading the attack caused her to lose balance, and her foe snatched at her Berretta, attempting to yank it away from her. She turned, putting her hip between them and trying to leverage the weapon back into her control. Her attacker was strong, but he wheezed like an invalid. She couldn’t break his grip, so she turned back and brought up a knee, striking him in the ribs and forcing a fetid gasp from his lips. She went to knee him a second time, but he caught her leg and headbutted her in her broken nose. Her hands slipped off the Beretta, and she staggered backwards, blinded by tears. Fiery shards erupted from the bones in her face. She tried to defend herself, but her senses fled.
Rather than shoot her with the Beretta, Sarah’s attacker punched her in the stomach and doubled her over. The weakness in her wounded thigh caused her to topple right over onto the floor, where she lay, beaten. Utterly beaten.
I can’t go on. I give in.
Sarah’s attacker stood over her, a foul-faced man covered in scars as ugly as hers. “I shoulda slit yer throat a long time ago, wee lass. I’d ’ave been doin’ ye a favour.”
Sarah couldn’t believe who she was looking at. She blinked away the tears and tried to keep her vision from spinning. “Hamish?”
“Aye. We meet again, Captain. Now get yer feckin arse oop off the ground so I can kill ye.”
Sarah tried to resist, but Hamish dragged her along the floor by her ponytail. She had thought the man dead, sinking into the Thames after she had shot him, but they had never actually found his body. Truthfully, nobody had looked particularly hard, assuming his corpse would eventually ‘wash up’ somewhere. Looked like it finally had.
“Why won’t you die, Hamish?”
“Vengeance is quite a drug, wee lass. The thought of watching ye die has kept me goin’ though many a bad time.”
“Just get it over with.”
“All in good time.” He dragged her over to the vans, gunfire still raging throughout the factory, and deposited her at Maxim’s feet.
Terminal (Major Crimes Unit Book 4) Page 14