‘Clear,’ Dan murmured over his mike, passing on the message to Melissa. ‘We’re going up to the next level.’
‘Copy.’ A soft clicking sound carried over the airwaves. ‘I’ve altered the path of the CCTV cameras at the end of the alleyway now,’ she said. ‘Last thing we need is the police seeing that body until we’re ready.’
‘Copy that.’
Dan glanced over his shoulder at Mitch and then jerked his head towards the next flight of stairs.
With the noise from their moving through the rooms on the first level, they’d lost the element of surprise. Now, they moved quickly, and Dan’s movements became more fluid as his training took over.
His finger hovered above the trigger guard of his gun; if he had to shoot, he wanted to injure, not kill. They needed answers – and fast.
He forced his mind away from the thought of what would happen if they didn’t locate the sniper in time and instead stepped onto the second landing, Mitch on his heels.
Dan turned to Mitch and pointed at him and then at the two doors at the far end of the corridor, indicating he would take the two doors at the front of the building, and Mitch should take the other.
Mitch nodded, and they split up.
Dan forced the air from his lungs and took a deep breath. They had to split up; it was the only way they were going to find their target in time.
He hurried to the first door to the left of the corridor and steadied himself, before reaching out and grasping the door knob between his fingers. It gave way under pressure, and he pushed it, raising his weapon in a two-handed grip as it swung open.
His eyes swept the empty space, dust motes dancing in the sunlight from the pockmarked windowpanes. Footprints smudged the wooden floor in places, and he calculated a man of about his height had been here recently.
Dan swallowed and then moved into the room, stepping towards the windowsill.
Keeping his weapon raised at the doorway at the back of the room, which he supposed led to a bathroom, he glanced down at the scrape markings on the chipped surface.
Someone had definitely rested a rifle on it recently.
Heart racing, he turned his attention to the smaller space at the back of the room, his mind working overtime as he tried to fathom what was going on.
His fears were realised when he threw himself against the frame and aimed his gun to the right.
He cursed under his breath and then pulled the comms mike close to his mouth and lowered his weapon.
‘Target located,’ he said. He heard Mitch’s boots on the linoleum floor pounding towards him.
‘What is it?’
‘We’ve got a problem.’ He jerked his head towards the body on the floor. ‘Someone was here before us.’
Mitch swore and then glanced at his watch. ‘We’re running out of time.’
‘I know.’ Dan crouched next to the body and kicked away the rifle at the man’s side, although given the fact the man’s brains were smeared up the side of the wall, he didn’t think the guy would be firing it any time soon. ‘Mel – go through the CCTV footage for all cameras around the restaurant for the past twenty minutes. And get the Brigadier to check with MI5 and Six – maybe they wanted to claim this one and get the credit.’
‘Copy.’
Mitch moved nearer. ‘Is he our man?’
‘Was. Yeah. Definitely.’
Dan ran a hand across his eyes, trying to pin down the thought that was running through his mind. He took out the comms earpiece and held up a hand to Mitch while he tried to think.
‘If you shot a sniper, why the hell wouldn’t you take his rifle?’ he murmured. ‘And why the hell wasn’t this building locked down?’
Then it hit him.
He snapped the earpiece back into place and turned to face Mitch. ‘Mel – are you hearing this?’
‘Yes?’
‘Tell David the Prime Minister’s still in trouble.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mitch stepped closer, confusion etched across his face.
‘There’s more than one,’ said Dan. ‘This man was a decoy. We’ve got to find a second sniper.’ He checked his watch. ‘And fast – the PM’s due to be here in under ten minutes.’
‘Copy that.’
‘And, Mel?’
‘Yes?’
‘Get someone to find out where that fucking clown went.’
CHAPTER 52
‘Bastard, bastard, bastard.’
Mitch’s curses carried down the stairs behind Dan as they raced through the innards of the building to the ground floor.
Dan swore under his breath as he ran. In hindsight, it had been too easy, the way the dead man had been left out as bait to draw them into the building and lose precious time.
He fleetingly wondered who the first sniper had been and then discarded the thought – he was someone else’s problem now. Dan had bigger issues to worry about.
Such as, where the hell was the second sniper hiding?
And, was the second sniper working for Porchester as well or someone else?
Was Porchester even in control?
As he reached the foot of the stairs, a shadow passed the outside of the door.
In an instant, Dan had his gun up in a two-handed grip.
He heard Mitch clatter to a standstill behind him, breathing heavily after the rapid descent, but knew Mitch would automatically follow his lead.
Dan didn’t hesitate. He levelled a kick at the door and stormed through the opening, aiming his weapon.
‘It’s me.’ David held up his hands, his own weapon in one of them, until Dan lowered his gun. ‘I heard over the comms.’
‘We’re running out of time,’ said Dan. ‘We’re going to have to split up.’
David peered around Dan and jutted his chin at Mitch. ‘Walk the perimeter. Start checking the windows that have a line of sight on the podium. If you think you see something, tell us. Don’t second-guess yourself. We haven’t got time.’
‘Yes, boss.’
Dan watched as Mitch hurried away.
David flicked the microphone at his neck. ‘Mel? Help him out. Use as many CCTV cameras as you can and alert the other services we’ve still got a rogue gunman.’
‘Can’t we get the PM to cancel?’ asked Mel.
‘He won’t cancel,’ said David. ‘I already spoke to him on my way over here. He won’t be told. Says if he cancels, it’ll play into Porchester’s hands.’
Dan watched as Mitch walked away and exhaled, trying to dispel some of the adrenalin that was building up in his system, threatening to cloud his judgement. Their task was impossible, yet he had to believe there was a chance, however slim.
‘Where do you want to start?’
‘The buildings directly opposite the podium,’ said David and took off at a sprint.
Dan followed, ignoring the stares from people that he jostled as he raced towards the southern edge of the square.
‘He’s got a gun!’ a woman exclaimed as he passed.
Her voice was lost amongst the shouts of the crowd watching the street performers, and Dan kept running.
David led the way, skirting round the perimeter of the square close to the buildings so as not to draw the sniper’s fire towards them until they’d had a chance to find his location.
As Dan drew level with David, he tucked his weapon under his t-shirt and stood, hands on hips, as he craned his neck to survey the windows above.
‘Anything?’ he murmured.
David shook his head. ‘I can’t see any open windows – can you?’
‘No.’
‘Shit.’
‘Hurry,’ Mel’s voice called over the comms equipment, her words doing little to hide her nervousness. ‘We’ve tried phoning the PM but his aide tells me he’s not taking any calls.’
‘He’s going to get himself killed.’ David swore. ‘What is it with these bloody politicians?’
‘You’re just worried about your annual bonus,’ Mitch’s familiar draw
l replied. ‘Get yourselves over to the building at your one o’clock position. I think I’ve found our man.’
Dan took off at full pelt, his long legs covering the distance around the square seconds before David caught up with him.
Mitch stood at a doorway, his lock-picking keys in his hand, patiently wiggling one of the steel wands into a brass lock.
‘Are you sure?’ asked David, keeping his voice low.
‘Yes,’ Mitch murmured. ‘He’s there all right.’
‘Which room?’ Dan took the opportunity to check the clip in his weapon.
’Third floor. Fourth window along. Where the scaffolding ends. There’s some plastic sheeting hanging down the right-hand side of the window. It’s flexing against the breeze, not with it.’
Dan peered out from under the doorway and up at the side of the building.
Sure enough, the plastic sheeting was exactly where Mitch said it was. He couldn’t see the sniper, though.
‘This is suicide,’ said Dan.
The lock gave way with a small click, and Mitch turned to glare at him. ‘Have you got any better ideas?’
‘No time to waste,’ said David. ‘Move.’
Mitch pushed the door open, his weapon held high, while David followed, his gun trained at the midpoint.
Dan crept over the threshold behind them and pushed the door, leaving it open in case they needed to make a quick exit.
Mitch signalled to them he was going to start to climb the stairs and then gripped his gun between his hands and pushed himself against the wall next to the first tread.
Dan saw his eyes flicker upwards before they opened wide.
‘Get down!’ Mitch yelled and threw himself towards Dan and David.
A split second later, the sound of suppressed gunfire echoed down the stairwell, splinters of wooden balustrade and plaster showering them in the small confined space.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ muttered David. ‘The bastard’s got a look-out.’
‘It’s that fucking clown,’ said Mitch.
Another volley of bullets struck the wall next to the stairwell, and they ducked as one.
Mitch turned to David. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Split up,’ said David. ‘Dan and I will keep this shooter distracted. You take this hallway. See if you can find another way upstairs.’ He tapped his comms mike. ‘Mel?’
‘Here.’
‘Tell the police covering this building to watch out for Mitch,’ he said. ‘He’s probably going to have to use the external fire exit down the side of the building to get to the third floor to reach the sniper. Don’t let them shoot Mitch by mistake.’
‘Copy that.’
Dan backed away, shuffling across the floor until he could stand without becoming an easy target.
In his mind, he imagined the PM climbing from his car, making small talk with the press as he made his way towards the raised lectern. They were never going to reach the sniper in time.
He tucked his gun back under his t-shirt and ran towards the door.
‘Where are you going?’ yelled David.
‘We’re not going to make it,’ Dan yelled over his shoulder. ‘Time for “Plan B”.’
‘What are you going to do?’
Dan slid to a halt and gripped the doorframe. ‘Whatever it takes.’
CHAPTER 53
‘What is it, Paval?’
Malikov brushed past Krupin and stood next to the man staring at the two computer screens on the table.
He pushed back his chair, motioned towards the blank displays, and then turned to Malikov.
‘These went dark thirty seconds ago,’ Paval said, a slight tremor in his voice.
Malikov spun round to face Krupin. ‘You’ve alerted the perimeter patrol?’
Krupin held up a transmitter. ‘We tried. No answer.’
Malikov rounded on Paval. ‘You see? You are blind without your technology.’ He turned his anger towards Krupin. ‘I told you we needed more men. It was a mistake to rely on this.’ He waved his hand at the useless array of equipment.
‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Krupin.
Malikov’s jaw clenched. He checked his watch. ‘Any news?’
‘Only what’s on the television,’ replied Krupin. ‘The Prime Minister hasn’t made his speech yet.’
‘Are we secure?’ He glanced from one man to the other. ‘Where are the guards?’
‘Two at the front of the house, two at the rear entrance to the building,’ said Krupin. He jutted his chin towards the hallway. ‘The rest are in the living area, preparing.’
Malikov nodded. ‘Leave two in the living area. The others can form a defensive position along the hallway.’
‘It’ll be their Special Forces,’ said Paval, his eyes wide as he rose from his chair. ‘We won’t stand a chance. We should leave, now.’
‘Courage,’ said Malikov. ‘We don’t know it’s them for certain.’
He turned his attention back to Krupin, and the man gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
It would be a disaster if it were the country’s Special Forces approaching the building; even more so if they were to capture Paval and discover the secrets he held.
‘I’ll meet you in the living room,’ said Malikov. ‘I want to brief everyone.’
‘I won’t be long,’ murmured Krupin as he passed.
Malikov closed the door to the comms room, cutting off the exclamation of fear from Paval, and strode towards the living room.
As he entered, some of the men glanced up from their preparations before their attention returned to the cache of weapons laid out in front of them.
‘Hurry,’ said Malikov. ‘The security systems are out.’
He reached down and picked up a remote control from a low table, pointed it at the television and muted the sound.
The news presenter’s jaw continued to work noiselessly, while a smaller picture in the top right hand corner of the screen showed a podium set up in a corner of Covent Garden, a security cordon keeping the general public at bay.
Malikov shook his head and turned his attention back to his men. ‘Concentrate,’ he urged. ‘We’re under attack from the best soldiers in the world.’
‘And yet they attack us in daylight,’ muttered one of the older men. ‘They’re either brave or their superiors are stupid.’
‘Or they’re desperate,’ snapped Malikov. ‘In my experience, desperate men are dangerous men.’
He turned at a sound from the hallway. Krupin entered the room and made his way towards the haul of weapons, selecting a 9mm pistol.
Malikov’s eyes fell to the man’s bloodied knuckles, and he raised an eyebrow.
Krupin shrugged. ‘He didn’t want to go easily.’
‘Here,’ said the man next to Krupin and thrust a semi-automatic rifle at him. ‘You’ll want this.’
Krupin ignored the weapon, his lips curling in disgust. ‘Useless in close quarters,’ he snapped. He held up the 9mm. ‘This isn’t.’
‘You’ll run out of ammunition.’
Malikov smiled as Krupin pulled a knife from his waistband.
‘Then I’ll finish them with this.’
The other man shook his head and fell silent.
Krupin glanced at Malikov. ‘Do you want me to move our guests?’
Malikov shook his head. ‘No. Make sure you keep the noise to a minimum down here for as long as possible. I don’t want to alert them to the fact we’re under attack.’ He raised his gaze to the ceiling. ‘I’ll deal with them.’
‘Don’t leave it too long.’
‘How long do you think we’ve got?’ asked Malikov.
‘Two minutes,’ said Krupin and jerked his head towards the door. ‘You should hurry.’
CHAPTER 54
Dan closed the door behind him, hoping to deaden some of the gunfire so as not to alert the passing pedestrians.
Although all of them were using suppressors on their guns, those were only designed to protect the h
earing of the person shooting, and he didn’t want to cause a mass panic.
The area was becoming more crowded as news of the PM’s impending arrival spread, and Dan was pleased to note the noise levels in the square were such that, with any luck, the gun battle that was raging in the building at his back would go unnoticed.
He briefly crossed his fingers, blinked in the bright sunlight that dappled the square, and began to hurry to where the television cameras and reporters waited.
As he walked, he heard the roar of a powerful car engine echo off the buildings, and then three official vehicles swept into the square, accompanied by motorcycle police.
The vehicles’ blue lights flickered as they cleared a path and surrounded the cortege, protecting it from the throng of people that filtered from all corners of the square to stand near the raised platform.
Off to one side, a small group of protesters had gathered, placards waving above their heads as they chanted various slogans. Some jostled against the police cordon in jest, and were pushed back with a shouted warning, before settling down once more as the cars passed.
The people that had been watching the street artists had surged towards the podium, some craning their necks over their shorter neighbours to see what was going on, the rest milling about at the fringes, feigning disinterest.
Dan had to slow as the wall of people grew more packed and used his height to track his progress. He pushed through, apologising under his breath, smiling at people as they let him through, trying to keep his features calm so as not to cause alarm.
Ten metres.
In his earpiece, he could hear the report of gunfire and, at one point, pulled the small piece of equipment from his ear, sure the noise would carry through the crowd from the building at his rear.
Satisfied the suppressors and the general noise of the crowd were combining to hide what was going on in close proximity to the podium, he shoved his earpiece back in, just in time to hear Mitch swear.
‘Exit door to roof is locked,’ he shouted.
Three Lives Down (A Dan Taylor thriller) Page 23