Gray Salvation

by Alan McDermott

  ‘Clear, Len. We’re coming out.’

  Gray ran out into the street and over to Doc, who now lay still. He put his fingers to Doc’s neck and found a faint pulse, but the widening pool of blood didn’t bode well.

  Sonny and Smart helped to lift Doc into the back of the truck, where McGregor was lying flat on his stomach, his arms still handcuffed behind his back.

  Gray brought up a screen on the GPS and tossed it to Smart. ‘You drive. Green is our current location, red is where Andrew and Mark are waiting.’

  Smart climbed out of the truck and ran to the front, starting the engine and jerking the vehicle around to point in the right direction. In the back, Gray used a knife to rip two strips of cloth from Doc’s smock to use as tourniquets. The truck bounced at every pothole and was running low on one side, where the tyres had been shredded by the Russians. Still, Smart was able to keep it going, and Gray much preferred the rough ride to walking.

  ‘Any chance you could get these things off me?’ McGregor asked, his head banging against the metal floor every time Smart drove over anything bigger than a pebble.

  ‘You’ll have to wait until we stop,’ Sonny said. ‘If I try to shoot them now I’ll end up blowing a hole in you.’

  To ease the man’s discomfort, Sonny helped him upright and sat him down on the bench that ran the length of the flatbed. Sonny removed a field dressing from his pocket and tended to the wound on Mac’s wrist.

  ‘What’s your plan?’ McGregor asked Gray.

  ‘Get out of town, then make a phone call.’

  ‘I thought you said we were on our own. No backup.’

  With the state the truck was in, there was no way they’d make it to the western border, and they couldn’t head east without being spotted by the large concentration of Russian troops assembled there.

  ‘We only have one real option left.’

  Ellis was growing increasingly concerned about Sarah Thompson. There had been no word for four hours, and she hoped Thompson hadn’t done anything stupid. The last they’d spoken had been in her office, when it looked as if Tom Gray’s mission had failed.

  Had Sarah taken that too hard? Had she decided she couldn’t go on without Andrew?

  Ellis dismissed the thought. Thompson was a strong woman. There was no way she’d consider harming herself, despite the circumstances.

  The phone almost made Ellis jump, and she snatched up the handset.

  ‘Ellis.’

  ‘It’s Gray. We’ve got Andrew.’

  ‘Oh, thank God for that! How is he? Where are you?’

  ‘He’s fine, but we’ve hit some major problems.’

  Ellis listened as Tom Gray gave her a condensed version of the events that had unfolded following their incursion into Tagrilistan.

  ‘What do you need?’ she asked tentatively. She’d already done all she could, and going back to the defence minister and admitting she’d ignored orders and sent a team in would mean a swift end to her career.

  ‘We lost the chopper and reaching the border is out of the question. We need you to contact the Tagrilistan president and arrange safe passage.’

  ‘Can’t you just drive to their capital?’ Ellis asked.

  ‘The only transport we’ve got is a Russian truck. The moment they see us they’ll blow us apart. That’s why we need you to contact the Tagrilistan army and warn them that we’re heading their way.’

  ‘How long until you reach their lines?’ Ellis asked.

  ‘At the rate we’re going, maybe ninety minutes.’

  ‘Consider it done. I’ll go and see their ambassador now and get him to pass the word along. I’ll get back to you.’

  ‘Hurry,’ Gray said. ‘The battery on this phone’s almost out.’

  Ellis ended the call and slipped into her coat. The relief that Harvey was so close to freedom was immense, but the one person desperate to hear the news was nowhere to be found. She walked out on to the main floor and over to Solomon’s desk.

  ‘I have to go out for an hour. If Sarah comes in, get her to call me straight away.’

  Ellis swiped her security card and walked down the stairs, hoping the Tagrilistani government’s wheels spun a little quicker than they did in Westminster.

  Erin Potter ended one call and went straight to the next in the queue. As with every day, the phones rarely stopped ringing, though a glance at the clock told her that the shift at Thames House would be finished within an hour, when the night receptionist would take over.

  Potter answered the next call with her usual greeting.

  ‘Er . . . Hi. I’d like to report a kidnapping.’

  Potter was used to crank calls, and went through the normal procedure of putting a trace on the call. Unusually this was from a landline, whereas most time-wasters preferred untraceable mobile phones.

  ‘Can I take your name, please?’ she asked politely. Sometimes they responded honestly to this question, but only on rare occasions.

  ‘Jeff Swinton. I’m a traffic warden. I saw a woman being kidnapped earlier today.’

  ‘Sir, you do realise that’s more a matter for the police,’ she told him.

  ‘I know, but she told me she was from MI5.’

  Potter instantly went on alert. She knew from her friend Elaine Solomon that Sarah Thompson had been strangely absent for most of the afternoon, and this could explain why. ‘Can you describe the woman?’

  The caller reeled off the description, as well as the time and location of the incident, and Potter typed up the details with lightning fingers, and had just put the caller on hold when she saw Veronica Ellis walking through the lobby.

  ‘Miss Ellis!’ she shouted, drawing the director general’s attention.

  Ellis quickly strode over to the reception desk and leaned over it. ‘What is it?’ she snapped, looking at her watch.

  ‘I have a traffic warden on the phone—’

  Ellis straightened, clearly annoyed. ‘I don’t have time for this. If he’s going to give me a ticket, let him.’

  She walked away, and Potter called after her. ‘But he said it’s about—’

  Ellis waved her away, disappearing through the door.

  Having tried her best, Potter reconnected the call and took the man’s contact details, promising someone would be in touch in the next few minutes, then sent off an internal email to Elaine Solomon.

  Ellis decided to walk to the Tagrilistani ambassador’s residence, which sat in a side street just off Millbank, the street running parallel to the Thames. It was only a ten-minute stroll, but she made it in half that time, almost jogging. A phone call would have been quicker, but she felt something this important should be handled face-to-face.

  She knocked on the door of the residence and it was answered by a staffer, who took her MI5 pass and made a call upstairs. Seconds later the reply came, and she was shown up to the first floor and along the corridor to a set of double doors.

  ‘Please,’ her escort said, opening the doors for her before closing them behind her.

  Ellis found herself alone in the room with the ambassador, Mikhail Greminov, a thin man in his fifties who stood from behind his lavish oak desk and offered her a seat.

  ‘Thanks you for seeing me, Mikhail,’ Ellis said. ‘I apologise for not calling ahead.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Greminov said. ‘What can I do for you today?’

  ‘It’s regarding Andrew Harvey.’

  Greminov’s face screwed up in disapproval at the mention of the name.

  ‘I think President Milenko has made his position regarding your missing operative quite clear.’

  ‘I appreciate that, but there has been . . . a development. One of Harvey’s friends heard about his predicament and took it upon himself to launch a rescue mission. He managed to get to Andrew, but he needs help getting out of the country.’

  ‘And just who is this friend of his?’ Greminov asked. ‘I assume it isn’t his tailor.’

  ‘His name is Tom Gray. He and four friends man
aged to spring Harvey from a jail in Dubrany, but they have casualties. I need you to inform your troops that Gray will be approaching your lines in –’ she studied her watch – ‘about eighty minutes. I’d appreciate it if you could guarantee them safe passage and a flight home.’

  ‘I must say, President Milenko is going to be less than pleased when he learns about a military incursion into our country. He specifically said he wanted no action that would anger Moscow.’

  ‘Tom Gray isn’t active military,’ Ellis said. ‘He retired years ago. This wasn’t sanctioned by our government.’

  Greminov eyed her quizzically. ‘Are you telling me he had no help whatsoever?’

  ‘None that our cabinet ministers are aware of,’ Ellis said truthfully.

  ‘The fact remains that armed Britons are operating on our soil without our permission. I think the first person we should notify about this should be your prime minister. It would be interesting to hear his thoughts on the matter.’

  ‘Interesting, perhaps,’ Ellis conceded, ‘but in the meantime, Gray and his men are heading towards your troops – in a Russian vehicle. I think we both know how your countrymen will react if we don’t forewarn them.’

  ‘I still think—’

  ‘No,’ she said, standing and cutting him short, ‘let me tell you what I think. I think the PM is going to find it very difficult to sign any trade agreement with Milenko when the public learns about this. I could explain to the media how a few brave civilians did what our governments refused to do, and how you were willing to sit back and let them die at the hands of your own troops. The story will hit the headlines within five minutes, Mikhail, and they’ll want a quote from you. You can either confirm that you won’t help, or make a humiliating U-turn and place the call to your ground commanders.’

  ‘Miss Ellis, you have much to learn about diplomacy.’

  ‘Fuck diplomacy! There are people’s lives at stake!’

  Greminov sighed and looked at his watch. ‘This simply isn’t my decision to make,’ he said. ‘President Milenko will be landing at Heathrow in about twenty minutes. I’ll speak to him when he gets off the plane.’

  ‘Do that,’ she said. ‘In the meantime, I’ll prepare a press release. And if I don’t hear from you within thirty minutes, I’ll send it out.’

  Before Greminov could protest, Ellis picked up her handbag and walked out of the room, leaving the doors open behind her.

  Chapter 26

  26 January 2016

  ‘How much farther?’ Sonny asked for the umpteenth time.

  ‘At this rate, another ten minutes,’ Gray said, as anxious as anyone to get to the relative safety of the Tagrilistani front line. Their conveyance was crawling along on two good wheels and two bare rims, having lost the last shreds of rubber miles back. It made for a lopsided and uncomfortable journey but, most frustratingly, it was slow-going.

  ‘The Russians can travel about five times faster than this,’ McGregor pointed out, though Gray needed no reminding. He’d been doing the maths for the last hour, and knew the pack would be closing in.

  What’s more, his men and he were heading into the unknown. The satellite phone had died thirty minutes earlier with no follow-up from Ellis. Worrying about whether she’d succeeded wouldn’t do any good, though. All they could do was stick to the plan and pray the gods of war were in a pleasant mood.

  He soon learned otherwise.

  A shell flew past the truck and exploded at the side of the road a few yards ahead of them, causing Smart to veer sharply to the left. As he did so, the bare metal of the wheel rims dug into the tarmac and the vehicle flipped over onto its side.

  Gray found himself pinned to the door with Smart on top of him.

  ‘Everyone out!’ Gray shouted, as he pushed Smart upright and began kicking at the windscreen. It gave on the fourth blow, and Gray scrambled out and took a defensive position near the front of the truck, using the engine block as protection.

  He looked back down the road and saw the outline of the BMP-3 half a mile behind; flanking it were four open-topped pick-ups, two of which had .50-calibre machine guns mounted in their beds.

  Sonny and McGregor appeared around the back of the overturned truck, carrying Doc between them. Harvey and Howard were the last to show, the MI5 operative hobbling over to Gray with an AK-47 in his hand.

  ‘You know how to use one of those?’ Gray asked.

  Harvey removed the magazine, checked how many rounds it contained, rammed it back into the housing and checked to ensure there was a round in the chamber. ‘Set for three-round bursts.’

  Gray smiled. ‘You missed your calling, mate.’

  As multiple rounds hit the underside of the truck, Gray leaned to the side and sent a few bursts towards the advancing Russians. All he managed to do was get the big guns to open fire, the .50-calibre rounds punching holes through the top of the chassis.

  ‘Shouldn’t we get away from here?’ Harvey asked. ‘If that tank hits the truck, it’ll be game over.’

  Gray understood his concern, though he suspected the Russians had other plans. ‘They’ve been in position for a couple of minutes now. If they were going to take the shot, they would have done it by now. I think they want us alive.’

  ‘Then why are they shooting?’

  ‘To make us shoot back and exhaust our ammo.’ Gray crouched for cover as another salvo came from the Russian ranks, the rounds hitting the truck well above their heads with others peppering the ground to their left and right.

  ‘So what’s the plan?’

  ‘Good question,’ Gray said. In normal circumstances he would make a managed retreat, half the team firing while the others leapfrogged them away from the confrontation. With Doc so badly injured, though, he knew that would be impossible. ‘All we can do is try to coax one of those vehicles in closer and take the occupants out. That would at least give us some wheels.’

  He stuck his head around the side of the truck and let off another quick burst, and saw that the Russians were holding their position. To make matters worse, three more tracked vehicles had joined the fray. The enemy were refusing to be drawn in, and it was only a matter of time before they’d be completely surrounded.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ Sonny urged. ‘They’ll be all over us in a couple of minutes.’

  Gray didn’t need reminding.

  To their rear was a small wood, around three hundred yards away. If they could get that far, they would have a chance of making it all the way to the Tagrilistani lines.

  As he considered the long odds, his thoughts turned to his daughter. He so wanted to watch her grow up, to have as normal an upbringing as possible, to see her go to her own prom and graduate college. There were so many fatherly things he’d been denied when his son Daniel had been snatched from him years earlier, and it broke his heart to think he wouldn’t be able to share those precious moments with Melissa, either. But with all other options exhausted, he made his decision.

  ‘Len, you and Sonny take Andrew and get as far away from here as you can. We’ll keep you covered.’

  ‘No way,’ Sonny countered. ‘We all go or we all stay.’

  ‘There isn’t time to argue. Andrew is the mission. You need to get him home.’

  As if to force his point home, the ground around them erupted in dirt and flame as a round from the Russian BMP-3 exploded a few yards to the left of their cover.

  Gray shook his head to clear his ears and brushed dirt from his hair and forehead. ‘Go!’

  He stood, leaned out and raked the enemy vehicles with his rifle, then turned to see what progress Len and Sonny were making. Both men were crouching in their original positions, looking up at him.

  ‘What don’t you understand?’ Gray shouted as he knelt back down.

  ‘We all go together,’ Sonny repeated. ‘End of discussion.’

  Smart looked Gray in the eye and nodded solemnly.

  Another light artillery round exploded, but this one was farther aw
ay – closer to the Russians, in fact. It was swiftly followed by several more, and Gray looked to his rear to see four T-72 tanks emerging from the tree line and bearing down on them.

  More whooshes from the tanks and Gray felt the air shake as the massive rounds coursed past them and into the Russian ranks. He spun in time to see a BMP-3 explode, its small turret ejected into the sky atop a column of flame. The smaller vehicles next to it were tossed into the air like toys, the occupants’ arms and legs flailing as they were thrown in all directions.

  Gray realised the T-72s belonged to the Tagrilistani army, but whether his men and he were in danger or not remained to be seen. To be on the safe side, he ordered his men to throw down their arms and kneel with their hands in the air.

  The battle subsided as the heavily outgunned Russians beat a hasty retreat, and an open-topped Jeep raced towards Gray and his team.

  ‘Stay alert,’ Gray warned the others, ‘we still don’t know if Ellis got the message through in time.’

  Three men jumped out of the Jeep as it slewed to a halt in the mud a few yards from them, their weapons to their shoulders. One man took a few steps towards them and aimed his rifle at Gray.

  ‘Name?’ the man barked.

  ‘Tom Gray.’

  The man lowered his rifle and said something in his native language, which made his comrades stand at ease.

  ‘We are told to take you to Kazakh border.’

  Gray lowered his arms. ‘Thank God! We have injured men,’ he said, reaching for his rifle.

  ‘Leave it,’ the soldier warned. ‘You don’t need again.’

  Unhappy as he was at being in a war zone unarmed, Gray did as he was told. These people were here to help. It wouldn’t do to piss them off.

  ‘Quickly,’ the soldier said. ‘They come back soon.’

  Gray didn’t need telling twice. As he ordered his men to carry the wounded to the Jeep, an armoured personnel carrier pulled up alongside it. Gray got the others to load Doc into the APC, where a medic looked over his wounds. He and Harvey took their places in the back of the Jeep.