“Where is she, Nan?” I asked, following her.
She put the kettle on and started making tea, more I think to do something with her hands than anything else. “A few hours after Davies left, her aunt turned up and said that there was some crisis with her company or something and that she needed to go back to London. I heard them talking at the door before I went to see what was going on. Sarah told me she had to leave, but there was something wacky about the whole thing. Her aunt drove all the way down from London to get her but didn’t come in, even for a minute, and the sour-faced old bitch didn’t speak to me at all. Then when she was leaving, Sar hugged me so hard she could’ve broken one of my ribs, and she said the strangest thing as she left. She told me to tell you if I saw you that she was fine and she’d be home in a few hours.”
I was relieved that she wasn’t with the Russians, but something definitely wasn’t right. “So you think she’ll be back in a few hours? Do you have any idea where in London they were going?”
“No, Tom, you’re not getting it. When she gave me that message, she thought you were dead. I think it was her way of telling me that she was in trouble. That she was going with her aunt under duress. Of course, I can’t prove it. I’ve called the guardhouse at Hereford, I’ve called the Ministry of Defence, I’ve even called the police. They all say the same thing. She went voluntarily with a member of her own family, she said goodbye, there’s no ransom or any other evidence of a kidnapping. They won’t even let me report her as a missing person.”
“Shit!” I muttered. As far as I knew, the aunt wasn’t involved in anything, but the woman was a class A bitch. If there was some way of using Sarah to her own advantage, she’d do it.
“Look, Nan, I’m not happy with you being here. If her aunt knew where to find you, chances are that other people know about this place too. Do you think your friend Sandra would let you stay there for a couple of nights?” I asked.
“She’ll be fine. I’ll grab my bag,” she replied, hurrying off upstairs as she called Sandra on her mobile.
“Jesus. That may be the first time in history that woman hasn’t argued with you. What do you want to do about Sarah?” Will said.
“Where’s my phone?” I asked in reply. I caught it as he chucked it to me and started loading up an app. “I installed a locater app on her phone. It says she’s about fifteen miles from here. We try there first.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’d drop Nan off and were headed towards the site. The closer we got, the more my gut roiled. Something fucked up was going down, and if my girl was hurt in any way, I was going to butcher anyone who had a hand in her pain. I’d become the monster in the dark that men didn’t even know to fear. Death would be a welcome relief by the time I was done. I’d spent my life roaming through the various circles of Hell, content to live that way because I didn’t know any better. But I’d been shown Heaven in the arms of someone good and pure. To have that light stolen away, to live once again in Hell, robbed of my ignorance and forever lost, would drive any man to insanity. Or in my case, to war.
Will pulled into the car park. A few lorries and late-night motorists stopping to rest and refuel were located near the service station entrance, but as we moved towards the signal, the area was relatively empty. When we saw that both front doors of the black Audi had been left open, I knew we were too late. Will had been driving, so I was out before the Land Rover had barely stopped. What I saw inside triggered something. Some dark switch deep inside. Sprawled across the console, as if she’d been trying to escape, was the body of Sarah’s aunt, a small, neat bullet hole directly between the eyes and another just above it to the right, as if the second shot was taken milliseconds later.
“Double tap to the head. The Russians?” Will asked me.
“Bitch sold out her own niece. The deal with Tatem Shipping’s done, so they’re eliminating all the witnesses.” My tone was flat. Soulless. Will knew what that meant as much as any man in my unit. The Tom that Sarah loved would be with her, always. I was the Reaper. The bringer of death. Will squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. I picked up her smashed up phone from the footwell and threw it back in again, having seen that it’d been completely destroyed.
“She’s alive, mate. If they were just eliminating witnesses, she’d be in here too. They need her for something, which means she’s still alive. We just have to find her.”
“Let’s get back to Hereford. I need to speak to MI5, and Davies is going to help me whether he likes it or not,” I replied. Once again, we raced down the motorway and back to base, and I called Masterson. After two rings, he picked up.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“On my way to see Lieutenant Colonel Davies. I’m about ten minutes away, but I need to brief him on some new intel. You too as it goes,” he said.
“I’m five minutes behind you,” I replied. “Masterson, I need you to ask headquarters to activate that tracker you gave me. The Russians have Sarah.”
He was completely silent for a moment as he processed what I said. I may not like him for making moves on my girl, but I did know that he cared about her. Enough to help me out when Davies dropped her like a hot fucking potato.
“I’m on it,” he said, and disconnected.
“You and Simon Masterson cooperating with each other? I didn’t see that one coming,” Will said.
“MI5 don’t trust anyone but themselves not to fuck things up. I don’t agree with it, but I respect it. I wouldn’t trust anyone outside of the SAS not to fuck up either. But the intel that led to Operation Sceptre didn’t come from MI5, it came from SO19. That didn’t sit right with Masterson’s department. After all, SO19 couldn’t catch the fucking terrorists in the first place, which is why we were brought on board. After Davies pulled security, Masterson came to see me. The intel matched an entry on the shipping paperwork, which is why it was given the green light, but it actually came from an anonymous tip. At that point, he knew there was a mole in Tatem Shipping. The government authorised the withdrawal of Sarah’s security, so there wasn’t much he could do, but he did warn me and passed on a high-tech, long-range tracking device. I didn’t want to scare Sarah, so I had it put into a necklace for her. I’m just crossing my fingers they don’t take it off her before we track it.”
“Something big’s going down, Reap. And I have a shitty feeling it’s bigger than the Russians,” he replied.
“Team B wiped out half the Russian gang in London. There’s no way they could’ve brought in reinforcements that quick, so either Agheenco’s working alone with his own agenda, or there are more terrorists in play,” I responded.
We were both silent after that. There wasn’t much to say. It didn’t matter who had her. Wherever she was, she was scared and alone. My brave little warrior who defied them all because her conscience told her to. Would she still fight to stay alive, thinking I was dead? I wasn’t a religious man, had never seen anything that gave me any kind of faith until I met Sarah, but I offered up a silent prayer to anyone who’d listen for the safety of a single life. The one soul, above all others, who deserved saving.
The guards at the base waved us through, and after throwing the car into a space, we barged into Davies’s office, to find Masterson already waiting.
“Come on in, gentlemen. Don’t worry at all about knocking, just make yourselves at home,” Davies said sarcastically.
Ignored him, I shook Masterson’s hand when he stood up to offer it to me.
“Any news on the trace?” I asked, urgently.
“We should have it any minute. It’s been activated; they’re just trying to pinpoint the coordinates so we can get an accurate location, but we know she’s in central London,” he said, pulling a file out of his briefcase and handing me a print out of a shipping manifest with only one entry highlighted.
“SO19 doesn’t have the resources to work the data, but we do. We traced every single one of the cargo changes that Agheenco made in the two weeks his lackey was at your office. Once Opera
tion Sceptre began, we had the green light to intercept the shipments. We got them all. Every weapon, explosive, animal, and human being trafficked or sold through Tatem Shipping was located, all except one. In most cases, MI5 passed the information onto the police or the Border Agency, and we let them do the takedown. The one we didn’t get arrived in Liverpool two days ago. The manifest lists the crate that came in as “medical.” It was collected an hour before the police got there. Contact details on the shipping documentation was a total bust, so I sent one of our guys down there. He’s not SAS and looks pretty harmless, but he scares the shit out of people. Highly trained in interrogation and counter-intelligence. After a day of questioning employees, he gets a confession from one of the dock workers. He was paid to keep quiet, and he couldn’t give us much to go on, but his description of the person who collected the package, specifically referring to an unusual birthmark, matches a suspect on the Interpol terrorist watch list. He also said he saw a couple of symbols on the container. He drew them out, and our guy sent back pictures a couple of hours ago. The first was the symbol for biohazard material. The second was harder to interpret, but we eventually traced it to a laboratory in Russia,” he explained.
“Jesus,” Will muttered, already anticipating what he was going to say.
“In the late 80s, the Soviet Union developed the Chimera Project, which studied the feasibility of combining smallpox and Ebola into one super virus. I don’t think it’s a coincidence this came from the same lab,” he said.
“You think Agheenco is doing this?” I asked him.
“No. I think he found a way to get a bioweapon into the UK and he’s sold it to the cell everyone’s so pleased at having supposedly wiped out. I think they’re going to use it to make a dirty bomb,” he said.
“You’re fucking kidding me! Does your section chief know?” Davies roared at Masterson.
“He does. The prime minister is being briefed as we speak,” he said.
Davies swore again then picked up the phone, dialling frantically. “You need to get me a trace location. I need to mobilise a team and get in there,” I told him.
“I’m on it,” Masterson replied, and walked out of the office to make a call.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Davies warned me. “I’m calling in Jackson and the backup team. Your team is on leave, and you’ve not even been cleared by medical. I’m not breaching protocol over this.”
“My team is on standby, sir, and with respect, fuck protocol. We get one chance at this. You need the very best, and that’s me and my guys. My girl is with them, and I’ll be fucked if I’m leaving her rescue to anyone else,” I said.
“That’s exactly my point, Harper. This is not a fucking rescue mission! My objective, my only objective, is the elimination of the terrorist threat and the deactivation of that bomb. Somehow, I don’t think your priorities and mine align, do you?”
“Look, sir, if I don’t retrieve that bomb, she’s dead anyway. We all are. If you’re not happy, send my boys in with Jackson’s team. We both know you can’t justify a fuck up to the prime minister when you’re sending in the backup team.” I waited for his response. Regardless of his decision, I was going in anyway, but I’d rather have the resources of the regiment behind me.
“Fine, go. But Jackson has operational control,” he warned.
I raged internally, but I’d take what I could get if it got me a place on the chopper. The door flew open a moment later, and a ruddy-faced Masterson burst in. “She’s at St Martins Le Grand, South of Aldersgate Street.”
“Christ, that’s next to the stock exchange, isn’t it?” Will asked.
“And the Bank of England, Goldman Sachs, Merrill Lynch, and about a dozen other banks,” Masterson added. “The bomb will destroy the financial district and the bio agent will take out whatever’s left.”
“Tom, mobilise your unit. I want a bird in the air in half an hour,” Davies said.
Will was already out the door and calling up the team, but I offered Masterson my hand before leaving.
“In case I don’t make it back, thanks for everything. I honestly never thought I’d say this, but it was good working with you,” I said, meaning it.
“You too,” he replied. “Now go get her back.”
I nodded and left him as I headed down to the armoury. Twenty minutes later, both teams were prepped, ready, and armed. Five minutes after that, we were airborne. The chopper doors were open and cold air whipped past my face as I stared at the vista of the fast approaching night-lit city. My usual stony calm was gone, and in its place was a twisted ball of ugly rage as I mentally prepared for the carnage I was about to bring down. My only thought of tenderness spared for the girl who had my heart.
“Hold on, baby. Just a little bit longer. I’m coming,” I whispered into the wind, hoping like hell she heard me.
Sarah
I regained consciousness in the back of a dirty van to see Vasili on his knees, undoing his trousers. My sweater was pushed up high and one breast was out of my bra. Thankfully, my jeans were still on and buttoned, but it was clear what was about to go down. The wound at my side burned like nothing I’d ever experienced. I didn’t know how much blood I could lose before it was too late, but I did know I wasn’t going out like this. In the back of a van at the dirty hands of a monster.
If he wanted my life that badly, he could fight me for it.
Knowing I probably only had seconds before he realised I was awake, I bit back a cry of pain and raised my knee hard, catching him sharply in the balls. He growled in agony and slumped to the side. Seizing my chance, I grabbed the internal handle of the door and shoved it open hard. Dizzy and disorientated, I crawled out as quickly as I could and stumbled across the tarmac as I tried to put as much distance between myself and that scumbag as I could.
As far as I could make out, we were in some sort of a car park, but nothing about it seemed familiar. Unlike the place I’d been taken from, there were no bright lights or signs of civilisation close by. I couldn’t stop to worry about that though. I had no idea how long it took a man to recover from a hit to the groin, but if he caught me, I’d be paying for it in the worst way.
A tall hedge ran along the perimeter and behind it sounded like a road. Skirting my way along the edges, I desperately tried to find a break in the shrubbery, a gap or a hole big enough to squeeze through. It was dark, but street lamps on the other side gave a little illumination. Clenching my side as hard as I could, I stumbled and thrust out a hand against the sharp branches to steady myself. The pain from my bullet wound was agonising, but the rest of my body hurt as well. I was scratched, bruised, and shot but not broken.
Not yet.
Eventually, I found what I was looking for as my hand pushed through a small opening, barely big enough for someone of my size. Without pausing, I ducked towards it, only to be yanked backwards sharply by my hair.
“You fucking bitch. You’re not getting away that easily,” he taunted, dragging me back towards the van. The closer and closer we came, the sicker I felt. How many women had died in the same way? In the back of a dirty van at the hands of soulless men, stripped of any semblance of dignity. I scrambled against him, fighting to get free, but his grip on my hair was ironclad. Any physical strength I had left was gone. It was all I could do to break my fall as he threw me into the open door and slammed it shut after climbing in behind me. Seconds later, he had my arms pinned to my sides as he straddled my hips. His dick had unfortunately recovered, and the evidence of how hard my struggles were making him was pressed against my pelvis. I was shaking uncontrollably, my body almost going into shock. It was inevitable really, given what I’d already endured and was about to endure again.
“I should have done this the first time I had you on the floor. I bet you would have enjoyed it. Rich bitch like you loves it rough. I would have liked making your father squirm before I killed him. Should have told him how I was going to fuck his little princess seven ways from Sunday until she was
so broken, there was no putting her back together again. And then shared how I was going to strap her to a bomb that would change the face of the Western world,” he spat, as he released one of my hands to push my sweater back up and pull down my bra, leaving me back in exactly the same position as I started.
“What are you talking about?” I protested, struggling weakly against his weight.
“The ambush was a setup. The real shipment has already been made. A biological bomb that will destroy this city. But after I get what I want, I’ll be long gone. You, I’m afraid, will have a ringside seat,” he taunted. His pleasure in my pain at the realisation that Tom had died for nothing was evident. He lunged forward, grabbing my breast as he sucked grotesquely on my nipple, grinding himself against me. I tried blocking everything. Tried focusing only on thoughts of Tom. But it didn’t work. Everywhere I looked, Vasili was there. My fear didn’t ebb, but it wasn’t alone. Anger had risen to join it. Anger that Tom’s death had been so needless. Anger that animals liked Vasili could take whatever they wanted and get away with it. Even now, my body wasn’t enough. He wanted my kiss too. To steal away the memory of the last man to touch my lips. It’s the last thing I had of him, and I wasn’t letting it go. I’d rather have died than let it go. So, I leant my head back as far as I could and head-butted him in the face.
“Fuck!” He backhanded me so hard that my face was smashed into the side of the van. A pool of liquid settled beneath my cheek, and I belatedly realised that it was coming from the top of my head. I was vaguely aware of Vasili, pawing at my body and muttering something about making me pay, but my mind was already somewhere else. My consciousness drifting to another place where he’d never be able to touch me. A place that was for Tom and Tom alone. A place where we’d both be together again. My vision was blurred and my hearing muffled when a series of hard bangs resonated in the darkness and the door slid open. I saw only the shirt of the man taking in the scene before him. When he realised what he was looking at, he screamed at my attacker. Though I couldn’t understand the words spoken between them, the stranger gestured towards me repeatedly.
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