The Chancellor had good reasons to hold his meetings here rather than his official government residence of number 11 Downing Street. He wanted to keep the meetings secret, and certainly didn’t want the press to be snooping around.
Agent Oxley had been assigned to protection duties for as long as the meetings went on. He was hoping it wouldn’t be for much longer. It was all pretty mundane. His previous assignment had been as part of a team which had travelled into the heart of Baghdad to extract a well-known BBC correspondent. The man had been kidnapped by a group of relatively unknown Iraqi militants. The operation had been over very quickly, and with complete success, although there had been that brief exchange of gunfire. Luckily, there had been no casualties on the British side.
Oxley had enjoyed the experience immensely.
His train of thought was interrupted as he heard a gentle ‘ping’ noise, and the lift door opened.
A short man, with a light brown complexion walked slowly out of the elevator. He wore a long, black coat, well pressed dark trousers, and elegant, black shoes. Agent Oxley noticed that he had a bad limp. He must have injured his left leg at some point in time.
‘Can I help you sir?’ Oxley tried to sound authoritative.
‘Good morning. Yes, actually you can. I’m looking for room 412. I believe it’s just down this corridor?’
The man with the limp pointed with his left hand. His right hand was holding a small tablet computer device. Oxley studied the man, taking in as much detail as he could. He had been trained to do that, of course. He thought the man was probably about sixty years old, his hands were slightly wrinkled, and there was some greyness starting to appear in his hair.
‘I’m afraid you have the wrong floor,’ said Oxley. This is the fifth floor, you need to go one down.’
The man with the limp opened the tablet as he replied. ‘I’m sure it says on my reservation that the room is on the fifth floor. Let me see.’
‘I can assure you that you need to go down sir, the room you want is ...’
‘Yes, here it is, take a look, Agent Oxley.’
Oxley was taken aback.
For one thing, how did this complete stranger know his name? But, more worrying to him was that on the computer tablet in front of him appeared to be a video of his wife and children.
‘What the hell is this exactly?’ Oxley had sensed danger and quickly drawn his pistol- a Walther P99. Then he had taken a step back from the older man.
‘My name is Solomon. What you are looking at here is a live feed from a camera in your home. You will recognise your wife Elizabeth and your two daughters, Holly and Sarah. Out of camera shot we also have your mother, who I understand always visits your home on a Wednesday. In addition, you will also shortly see my loyal accomplice.’
At that precise moment a man walked into view on the tablet screen. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black sweatshirt. He looked very casual, and he appeared to be quite relaxed. He had a thin, wiry physique, and some of his front teeth were missing. All in all he looked quite harmless.
Except for one thing.
In his right hand he carried a silenced handgun.
Chapter Two
‘I need a code,’ said the man on the tablet screen.
He was looking directly into the camera.
‘Thirty two,’ responded Solomon.
The man in agent Oxley’s house nodded and moved away, out of camera shot. The headset he was wearing allowed him to listen to what Solomon was saying, although the other people in the room would not be able to hear.
Oxley raised his pistol and aimed it directly at Solomon’s chest.
‘I need to know what this is all about, and I need to know right now.’
He started to take a small communications device out of his jacket pocket.
Solomon pulled out a hotel keycard and walked towards a room just down the corridor on his left. He swiped the card and opened the door. Clearly he knew that this room had been left empty.
‘Before you do anything foolish, please step inside and I will explain further. Put your gun and radio away, they are of no help to you. Come.’
Oxley put the radio back in his pocket, but held on to the Walther.
‘You need to explain fast. I can alert my team with one press of a button. What are you doing with my family?’
He tried to stay calm, but he was angry as hell inside. Who was this guy? What was he doing here? How much danger was his family in?
Solomon sat down on the side of the bed. He placed the tablet next to him. On the screen the woman and the two girls sat quietly. They had now been joined by an older woman, presumably Oxley’s mother.
‘You’re family will be safe, as long as you do as you are told. I have only two requests of you. The first one is fairly straightforward. I need to know the home address of Agent Cole. You will know this of course, as he is a colleague of yours. I understand he works closely with the Prime Minister, which is why it appears his address is so difficult for me to get hold of.’
He was interrupted by the man wearing the black sweatshirt who had reappeared on the screen.
‘I need a code.’
‘Seventy five,’ replied Solomon, turning his head towards the tablet on the bed.
He looked back towards Oxley.
‘Yes, I had better explain that. Every sixty seconds I have to provide a specific code to my colleague. If I fail to provide the correct code at the exact time, then one member of your family will be killed. This will happen each time we fail to provide the number. Anyone can provide the code, even you. In fact you can do the next one. It’s nineteen. All I need you to do is to fulfil my two requests. So firstly, please provide me with the address that I have requested.’
Oxley pulled out his small radio and held it up to his ear.
‘If you alert your colleagues, then I will not give out any more codes,’ Solomon said calmly.
Oxley held up the Walther again and aimed directly at Solomon.
‘The same applies if you harm me in any way. Of course, you could shoot me and then attempt to rescue your family. However, they would all be dead within the next four minutes. Trust me agent Oxley, you have nowhere to go with this. The man in your house is very highly trained and extremely loyal to our cause. He will not hesitate to carry out his instructions. Just do as I say please.’
Oxley was confused. He was trying to think logically, but he was struggling. He was an expert in his field, a true professional, who had managed to get himself out of all kinds of dangerous situations. Now though, he was worried, very worried. What were his options? He surely had to comply with this lunatic otherwise his family would be in danger. He knew Cole’s home address, of course. They were good friends and had trained together in the army. That was in another life though, and a long time ago.
‘How do I know you won’t harm them, even if I comply with your requests?’
‘Agent Oxley, I am a man of my word. You may not like me, but I can guarantee your family’s safety if you fully comply with my requests.’
‘I need a code.’
The man had reappeared on the screen. Time seemed to be ticking away quickly. Solomon looked across at Oxley and nodded.
Oxley moved towards the screen. He said nothing but just carefully watched the scene before him.
The man with the sweatshirt turned towards the screen. He spoke calmly and clearly, but with a hint of menace.
‘I need a code, final warning.’
Oxley stayed quiet.
The man on the screen moved around to stand just behind the older lady. He raised his gun, jerked back the loading mechanism, and aimed it squarely at the back of her head. One of the girls in the room started to scream, just as Oxley’s wife jumped up and shouted out loudly.
‘No, get away from her. Help us someone, please help us.’
She sounded hysterical, her voice turning into a high pitched screech.
‘Nineteen,’ shouted Oxley. ‘The code is ninete
en.’ He had started to sweat heavily and there was panic in his voice. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and watched as the man on the screen lowered the gun and moved away from the older lady.
Oxley raised his Walther P99, cocked it this time, and pointed it directly at Solomon once more.
‘Right, you bastard, this is how we are going to play this. You will write down the next thirty codes in sequence and pass them to me. If you don’t then I will shoot you dead right now.’
He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a silver plated ballpoint pen. He threw it towards Solomon.
‘Start writing.’
Solomon ignored the pen. He looked back at Oxley.
‘Nice try agent Oxley, but you and I know that won’t work. I won’t be giving you any more of the numbers. I certainly will not do so if I’m dead.’
He laughed at his own small joke.
‘No, what we need is for you to comply with my requests. So firstly, what is the address please?’
Oxley lowered his gun. He felt like a beaten man. He was an expert in problem solving. It was one of his specialities. He was a master in all areas of so-called Game Theory, where seemingly impossible situations can be satisfactorily resolved. He was well used to evaluating his options. He was also an arithmetic genius. He had taken all kinds of abuse from his work colleagues when they had discovered that he had been president of his university mathematics club.
All of that didn’t matter now. His only option was to do as he was told. He would sort everything out once this man had gone, and his family were safe.
He reluctantly told Solomon the full address of his friend, agent Cole.
Solomon nodded, as he made a mental note of the information.
‘Now release my family as you promised.’
‘Ah, but you forget. I have two requests that need your action.’ A thin smile flashed across Solomon’s face as he spoke.
‘So what next?’ said Oxley.
Solomon stood up and took a step forward. He leaned close to Oxley.
‘Next? That’s easy. I just want you to kill yourself. One clean shot to the head should do it.’
The following are the opening two chapters of the 3rd book in the Hedge & Cole series.
The Transamerica Cell by Kevin Bradley
Chapter One
Seth Harper saw the three men walking towards him.
He knew they were coming for him, he had been expecting it. One of the men had the fingers of his right hand extended out in front of him. He was pulling on a set of brass knuckles. These were also often referred to as knuckleduster’s. This simple type of weapon is used in hand to hand combat, and is usually made of a heavy metal. The idea being that when used effectively, the victim would sustain maximum tissue damage, with the increased likelihood of bone fracture occurring.
Seth reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He looked at the display .The first contact on his list read simply ‘Brother Joe.’ He touched his finger on the phone next to that name and held the phone to his ear.
The call was answered on the second ring.
‘Hi Seth, I can’t talk now, I’m out on patrol.’
‘Joe, I need help. They’re coming for me.’ There was panic in his voice.
‘Seth. Who is coming for you? Where are you?’
‘I’m down in the Pacific Beach area, just off Grand Avenue. I need help, quick ...’
The call went dead.
‘Seth. Seth. Hello. Hello. Shit, he’s gone.’
Joe Harper turned the steering wheel hard left. The patrol car lurched and spun round.
‘We need to head over to Pacific Beach. My brother is in some kind of trouble.’
Joe’s partner looked across at him. ‘Are you going to call it in?’
‘No. No need for that. Let’s see what he’s up to first. Knowing Seth, it will all be all about nothing,’ replied Joe.
His partner nodded. ‘Fine, let’s go.’
Joe stamped his foot on the accelerator pedal and the car jumped forward. At the same time, he flicked a button on the side of the steering wheel. The blue light on the top of the patrol car began flashing. That should be enough, he thought. No need for the siren just yet.
The first of the three men to reach Seth was a tall guy, with a crooked looking face. His left eye had a long-healed scar just underneath it, and his nose looked like it had been broken several times.
The man grabbed the cell phone off Seth, and threw it to the floor. He had heavy boots on his feet, and so when he stamped on the handset, the front screen shattered instantly.
The other two had now arrived, and all three of them grabbed hold of Seth. Together they dragged him into a nearby alley. As he was being pulled along, Seth stumbled and fell to the ground. His three assailants gathered around him, and began kicking at his body. The man wearing the brass knuckles leaned down and directed a strong punch at the base of Seth’s ribcage, on his left side. There was a loud cracking noise as one of his ribs broke.
‘Did you hear that,’ the man shouted. ‘What a beautiful sound.’
Seth screamed. A sharp pain ran down his side. He was laying on his front, with his back exposed, desperately trying to protect his head with his hands.’
‘Enough. That’s enough for now,’ the tall man shouted.
His two accomplices stood back. Seth lay motionless on the ground.
‘So where is my money?’ the tall man said.
‘I don’t have it, but I’ll get it soon. I promise.’ Seth said softly. He wiped his hand across his face, and cleared some of the blood away. It was dribbling out of his nose, and running down his face.
‘Not good enough,’ said the tall man. ‘I need it today.’
‘I can’t get it today. Give me a week. I promise I’ll have it in a week.’
‘I need it today.’
‘Please. One week. Please.’
The tall man swore as he stood up. He looked quickly up and down the alley. There was no one else about. He reached inside his black, leather jacket and pulled something out. He held the weapon in his outstretched right hand, and turned it so that the sunlight glistened off the eight inch blade.
He nodded towards his two colleagues. One of them smiled as he dropped his knees onto the back of the man lying on the floor. Seth was now pinned down and couldn’t move. The other attacker walked over and kicked Seth’s ankles outwards, so that his legs ended up splayed apart.
‘This is your last chance. I need what you owe me now, today. Hopefully this will get your brain working out how you are going to achieve that.’
The tall man swung the knife at Seth’s backside. The blade of the weapon sank into his left buttock, penetrating to around five inches. The tall man felt his hand vibrate as the blade bounced off a piece of bone somewhere deep inside the soft flesh.
Seth screamed aloud. The pain inside his buttock was intense, even more so when he felt the steel of the blade scraping along one of his bones. He couldn’t stop crying out. The steel was still in his flesh, and it felt like a thousand sharp needles had been pushed into his body.
One of the men took off his woollen hat, and held it over Seth’s mouth to try and lessen the noise he was making.
The tall man stood up. He left the blade buried in Seth’s backside. He pushed his heavy boot against the handle of the knife, making it move back and forth.
Seth screamed even louder. Dark red blood was seeping out from the wound.
‘Do you have any fresh ideas yet on getting me my money?’
‘Please, give me some time. Just a few days, please.’ Seth spoke slowly, and quietly, with the words coming out in between deep, painful breaths.
The tall man shook his head in resignation.
He leaned down, and with one swift action he pulled the knife out of Seth’s buttock. There was a brief sucking noise as the blade came free. Seth’s body convulsed and a long, piercing howl came from his throat.
The tall man looked at
the blood coated blade. He pulled his arm back slightly.
‘You leave me no choice then,’ he said.
Chapter Two
‘Hey, what are you up to? Leave him alone.’
Robin Taylor didn’t consider himself to be a particularly brave man, but when he saw the three guys standing over someone lying on the ground, he decided to try and intervene.
‘I’ve called the police,’ Robin lied.
He was hoping that the three attackers would turn and run, but they didn’t. Instead they just looked directly at him as he approached them. The man on the floor was moaning softly. Other than that, he lay still and inert.
The tallest man in the group was nearest to Robin. He turned to face the approaching stranger. As he did so, Robin caught sight of the menacing looking weapon he was holding in his hand. The blade looked long, and was covered in a sticky, red liquid.
Robin stopped walking. He stood motionless, his eyes unblinking, as he stared at the knife.
‘And who exactly are you?’ said the tall man. His voice was quiet, but his throat sounded hoarse, almost like he had a bad cold, or the flu. He was still gripping the weapon in his right hand.
‘I’ve called the police. They told me that they are on their way.’ Robin felt very vulnerable now, so close to the three men. He couldn’t stop staring at the knife.
‘I’m sure you have,’ said the tall man. He was sneering, but the look that he gave Robin was chilling.
It was a hot day, almost ninety degrees Robin estimated. As it was lunch time, the streets in this part of San Diego were quiet. Most people had headed off to get something to eat, or to find somewhere cooler to pass the next couple of hours.
Robin didn’t know what he should do next. With hindsight, he was now wishing that he hadn’t got involved in this situation. He should have just walked on by. His wife and two young daughters would be waiting for him in the department store just around the next block. That was where they had planned to meet up for something to eat.
The Palindrome Cult: A gripping, page-turning, crime suspense thriller, its fast pace takes you from London to New York, via Dubai and the Virgin Islands. (Hedge & Cole Book 1) Page 24