Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2)

by p s syron-jones

  After wiping clean the computer’s ‘history’ cache, he finished his coffee and stood up, calculating that he had enough time to get to his room and be at the bar to meet Sandy. He hoped there was something on the tapes that would reveal who the sauna room victim was or, better still, who had killed her.

  The decks were mostly quiet as people were tucked up in their beds for the night. Only the odd person who had imbibed a bit too much holiday cheer could be seen stumbling back to their cabins, bouncing drunkenly off the walls.

  Then, as he reached the elevator, he felt the presence of two large men behind him. He said nothing, just stared into the reflective surface of the control panel to his left. The men were both around six-foot four with massive physiques. The elevator doors slid open and all three of them entered. Steel made for the back and the two giants each leant against the side walls. Both men wore black suits with white shirts and black ties, their hair short—one was blond, while the other had dark hair. Steel guessed that the darker man could be from Hawaii, or some other such exotic region. They all stood in silence while the blond, who stood nearest the panel, pressed the button for the sixteenth floor.

  “Could you press number twelve please?” Steel asked. But the men just smiled and Steel knew he wouldn’t be getting off on his requested floor. He smiled back politely, somewhat intrigued about where he was going and who was behind his abduction. Sure, he could have made for the door next time it opened, but the chances were high that one of them would have a taser or some other means of subduing him. He was determined to be awake for when he got to wherever they were heading.

  As they travelled up the decks, other passengers got on and off but the whole time Steel stayed in his position, not moving, just making himself ready for any sudden attack. Sure, the men were big, a lot bigger than he was, but with his military training, plus the training he’d had from Mr Lee, he knew he could take them down. However he was curious to find out what was going to happen.

  Eventually the LED display read 18 as the doors opened and the two men got out and waited for Steel to follow. Steel looked at them and walked halfway out of the door, saying, “Please after you, I insist.” The blond man raised an arm as if to usher Steel down the corridor. Steel rushed forwards, making sure he maintained a good distance between them and him.

  This floor was mainly comprised of massive suites for the super-rich, some of which had conference rooms and small home cinemas. They made their way to suite number 14, where they stopped and the large Hawaiian man knocked on the door. A fresh-faced brunette in a red business suit appeared as it opened. “Please come in, you have been expected. Please follow me,” she said.

  Steel obeyed her request and followed the woman with the sexy gyrating hips, all the while making note of the layout of the suite. The place was huge with from what Steel could tell, was a three-bedroom apartment with a seating area and a large office with a joining bedroom. The two gorillas stayed outside, ensuring they would be undisturbed by any unwelcome callers while the woman led Steel further in, until they reached a large desk in what seemed to be an office. The room itself was large, with maroon coloured walls and dark wooden furniture; two brown leather chairs sat in front of the desk and behind it was a heavy looking red leather office chair.

  As they stood there alone Steel looked round and smiled at the woman, who was now standing to one side. Her face was pale, with a stern expression. She just nodded upwards, as if to say, ‘Face your front’.

  Steel turned slowly in the direction she’d told him. To his left two wooden doors swung open and a man walked out. He was yelling at someone in Russian, not even registering Steel’s presence.

  The man was huge. He stood around six-foot six with a huge bald head that seemed to glow as the ceiling lights reflected off it. The head was joined to extremely broad shoulders, and he seemed to have no neck. His frame was large and bulky but the bulk seemed body mass rather than fatness. The more Steel looked at him, the more he was reminded of the character ‘Kingpin’ from the comic books.

  The man shut the doors to what appeared to be a bedroom, and Steel felt a draught from when the doors opened, indicating that he had a balcony view. The Russian turned towards him. “So at last. The mysterious Mr. Black.”

  John was surprised that he had some sort of reputation. He had tried to keep under the radar, that was for sure, but he was at a loss to know why this man was looking for him.

  “Or may I call you Anthony?” the bear-like man went on.

  Steel sighed with relief. This man had clearly captured the wrong guy, meaning that he had a split-second decision to make. Should he come clean and tell him he wasn’t who he thought he was and, in doing so, miss out on a lot of useful information? Or would it make more sense to pretend to be his almost namesake, Blacke? The flaw with the last option would be that if these characters found out he was faking, he would be dead.

  Steel shrugged and smiled as he raised a hand like a schoolchild wanting to pose a question in class. “Hi. Look, I’m sorry about this, but I’m afraid I am not who you think I am. Yes, my name is Antony Black. But it’s Antony without the ‘h’ and Black without the ‘e’. I’m the wrong man.”

  The large man drew back his massive hand for a second, then burst out laughing at the absurd situation. His laugh was more of a loud bellow, which brought the two goons rushing in.

  “I really must apologise, Mr. Black without the ‘e’. My men are useful in so many areas but spelling apparently is not one of their talents.” The man extended his hand once more and Steel shook it. “No hard feelings, eh?”

  John Steel felt his knuckles crack in the vice-like grip. “Oh, of course not. Anyway I have got a hot date for tonight, so if you’ll excuse me?” The man let go of his hand, leaving Steel to wiggle his fingers to re-establish the blood flow.

  “Have a good night, Mr Black,” the man called as the brunette woman showed Steel to the door, then started to yell in Russian at the two goons.

  She then unceremoniously shoved him out of the door and slammed it shut behind him.

  “Charming!” he said aloud. He looked his watch, finding that it was nearly three o’clock, and he hoped Sandy would wait for him if he was late. As he looked back at the closed doors he started to calculate. Who the hell was that and what business did he have with Blacke?

  Steel made it back to his suite. He needed to change out of his tuxedo and into something a little more presentable. The door clicked open as he placed the card in the slot. As he opened it fully, the lights came on, revealing Sandy lying in his bed naked, apart from a sheet that partially covered her.

  “Good morning,” she said, getting to her knees, holding the sheet around her.

  “It certainly is a good morning,” he replied, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the sofa as he walked up to her.

  “I hope you don’t find me forward,” she said demurely. “It’s just that it’s been a long day.”

  Steel smiled as he drew her in close and looked into her sparkling brown eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. It seems everyone one wants to pick me up today.” As they kissed deeply, she ripped open his shirt.

  “Well, if this is breakfast I would love to see what you have in mind for lunch,” she purred as they fell on to the bed.

  He reached up and dimmed the lights.

  The sun had just broken over the horizon and the cloudless sky was starting to lose its starlit veil. Sandy hadn’t stayed with him, as she was afraid of being discovered by her colleagues, however she had left him with a goodbye gift. Steel got up slowly and stretched. He looked at the bedside clock that showed six o’clock on the display. He hadn’t had much sleep, but then the moments of passion with Sandy had refreshed him.

  Steel got up and showered. He wanted to hit the gym and get a good workout before breakfast. He picked up the CD case and tapped it as he thought about the night before. Who was that big Russian who had abducted him? He suddenly realised who might know his identity. He took a sip of
coffee and looked out across the ocean. He hoped today would be full of answers, as he had far too many questions.

  Having changed into his black sports gear, Steel headed out towards the gym where Jane Doe had been killed. He knew it would be quiet at that time, and it gave him chance to take a look while being undisturbed.

  The gym was bathed in an orange glow as the rising sun burnt with a fiery red. The large windows gave a fantastic view of the balcony area, where people could sunbathe after their workout or sauna. Steel walked in to find himself alone, which suited him fine. He picked a CD from the pile of music and chose an album from a rock band and placed it into the machine then waited for the music to start so that he could adjust the volume. The music blared out, filling the room with the 90s tunes.

  He had done around twenty minutes on the running machine before heading to the bench press—he changed the weights so that he was pushing around hundred and twenty kilograms. He had gone through his first set of ten reps when he felt the pressure of the bar grow heavy.

  “Mind if I spot for you?” came a gravelly voice.

  Steel looked up to see the blond Russian man from the previous night grasping the bar, with a look of pure pleasure on his face. Steel locked his arms at the elbows but still he felt the immense power of the brute bearing down on him.

  The investigator felt the weight being lifted and he knew what was coming next. Putting his feet on the edge of the bench for leverage, he got ready. As he felt the bar come up further he let go and pushed off, making himself slide off the bench enough for the bar to miss his head as it came crashing down. Steel rolled off the rest of the bench and knelt, ready for the next attack.

  This was going to be hard as he saw the other thug behind the blond man, meaning it was two hulks against him. If it had been normal guys there’d have been no problem—everyone had weak spots. However these men were big and bulky, so he had speed and agility on his side. The one brute who was standing watch, jumped over his head and ducked down, his arms out to the sides ready to catch their prey. But Steel just rolled out of the way and returned to his battle stance.

  The dark-skinned Russian stopped on his heels and turned, his face full of rage at missing his target. The man ran forwards straight at Steel, and the floor shook under the thunderous impacts of each step the man took. The Russian’s eyes were firmly fixed on Steel, who knew he probably wouldn’t make the same move twice—the man was huge but not dumb. As he came near, Steel fell onto his back and made a timely double kick upwards into the man’s groin. The brute stopped and slid down to his knees, his hands firmly clasped over his private parts. Steel watched as the man went cross-eyed then crashed to the floor.

  Steel had a second to move before the other thug used the barbell as a hammer. The wood of the floor splintered where his head had been a second before. The brute growled as he watched Steel roll to safety next to the bench of free weights. The Russian took a firm grip on the barbell as if it were a sledgehammer. Steel looked around for anything he could use to even things up. He reached behind him and took hold of a pair of ten-kilogram weights and swung at the Russian as he approached. The gratifying sound of metal hitting bone filled Steel’s ears as he landed a punch to the man’s middle, then to his jaw. The dark haired brute just smiled and spat out the blood that filled his mouth.

  The big Russian grinned, showing off five bloody gold teeth that glistened menacingly in his muscular head. He rushed forwards, swinging the barbell like a shot-putt as he came, and laughing like a maniac as mirrors smashed and fire extinguishers burst, flying round the room like crazed torpedoes. Steed dived out of the way just as the other Russian was just getting to his knees. There was a sickening crunch as the dazed Russian took the swinging weights direct in the jaw. Blood and teeth erupted from the man’s mouth before he once more crashed to the ground.

  The dark-skinned Russian looked over at his colleague and screamed like a crazed animal: “Nicolai!” He had murder in his eyes as he suddenly turned towards Steel, who was now crouched by the glass sliding doors of the balcony, ready for what he expected to be a fast and brutal attack. The man threw the barbell to one side and charged at Steel like a maddened rhino, his head down and nostrils flared. Steel placed his hands on the floor and one leg extended to enable him to spring to one side quickly. John waited as the crazed Russian ran full pelt at him, and the sound of thunder echoed through the gym as the man’s feet impacted hard upon the wooden floor. Just as Steel could almost feel the man’s breath on his skin, he pushed off to one side and rolled to safety. Shocked, the brute turned to see the shape of his opponent crash through the glass and disappear over the side. Steel ran over and slid across the floor towards where the brute had gone over. He found the panicked Russian hanging by one hand gripping one of the metal railings of the balcony. Steel leant on the railing and looked over with an expression of mock concern. “Morning, lovely day to just hang around.”

  The Russian looked up, confused.

  “So, it’s kind of obvious who sent you, but why?”

  The hanging man shook his head and screamed something in Russian. Steel smiled and waved. “Okay, I can see I have disturbed you so I’ll just go and leave you in peace.”

  The Russian’s eyes bulged with fear as he watched Steel disappear from view. “No!” he yelled. “Please! Do not go, please!” There was a loud metallic thud as the nozzle of a fire hose slammed against the hull wall next to his head, causing him to look up.

  Steel looked back over the side, talking calmly. “Hi, sorry to bother you but if you wouldn’t mind grabbing the sodding hose so I can get you back on board that would be great.” He disappeared again, and the Russian reached over with his free hand for the thick round hose. Steel anchored himself against the weight bench he had put between the doorframes and was pulling up as he felt the strain.

  After several heaves and pulls the Russian’s mighty fingers appeared on the balcony top rail, Steel let go of the hose and ran forward to try and pull his massive frame over. Reaching over, Steel was able to grasp the man’s belt and pull him up, as the Russian grabbed handholds and hauled himself. With a crash they both lay on the floor, out of breath.

  John Steel stood up and looked down at the man who was looking over at his fallen friend. The Russian looked relieved as his colleague began to stir and move his arms slowly.

  “Your friend will be fine.”

  The Russian looked back towards Steel and nodded in acknowledgment. Steel returned the acknowledgement and walked out, leaving the Russian to look after his friend. As he walked away, he shook his head, trying to work out what was happening. He had no idea who the Russian pair’s boss was, or why they had attacked him. But he was pretty sure that the huge Russian was not just some office guy making a quick buck. No, this was something different. Something dangerous.

  TWENTY-THREE

  McCall and the others had returned to the precinct. Detectives Edwards and Blake had the Brown case and they would need all the luck in the world to solve that one. CSU had found nothing; there was no trace evidence or prints at the scene. It was as though the killers wore protective clothing of some sort.

  Brown had known something. After all it was Brown himself who had sent Douglas Major on the last job at the 7-Eleven store, so he was involved up to his eyeballs. However Susan, the secretary, had worked something out that she had not shared before she was killed; she had worked out that Brown had sent Major on the job. So what else did she know? McCall was hoping that tech could find something on the feed from the workshop. After all that was his work place, his sanctuary. If McCall had found it, who was to say if someone else had found it too?

  The more Sam looked at the murder boards, the more the cases didn’t make sense to her. All of the original victims had nothing in common—their lives never intersected with each other’s at any point. Family and friends had confirmed that each of the victims was unknown to any of the others, and their various occupations were so different that there was no ch
ance of a crossing of paths through business. The only thing that linked three of the victims was that someone used the same gun to kill all of them. McCall stretched, her eyes fixed on the row of boards. She was feeling tired and worn out but she wasn’t ready to give up on them. She and the other detectives were the only voices the victims had. They would speak for them and get them justice.

  The morning sun brought a cool breeze with it. The teams had finished late and had awoken refreshed and eager to make a fresh start. All of them that is except McCall, who had been there all night. At two in the morning she had felt like going home then thought what was the point? Breakfast had been courtesy of the deli down the road, and the station gym’s shower had revitalized her to some extent.

  McCall moved over to the map board, a clear plastic cover paper on which several large circles had been drawn depicting mile coverage, five miles up to thirty. This was to show a central point where the killer might have been, or at least have been coming from, working on her theory. All of the killings had been on the East Side, all of them within a few miles of each other, apart from John Barr, the crane guy, but he had been shot by someone in a boat on the river.

  All of the crime scenes had one thing in common, she thought as she stared at the board. They all have easy access to and from the subway. She looked at the board again, feeling the stirrings of a breakthrough. Was that it? Was the subway the killer’s means of transport? It was quicker than using a car, and there’d be no parking problems. The subway was also easy to blend into and disappear if you needed to. She smiled with satisfaction and folded her arms as she nodded happily to herself.