Keep Me Safe

by Duka Dakarai

  Keep Me Safe

  Duka Dakarai

  Copyright 2013 Duka Dakarai

  All right reserved

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to those who risk their lives daily to keep us all safe wherever you are in the world today. It is also dedicated to all of you who keep me sane, well almost. Love and hugs xx

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Iraq, 2009

  The British SAS Commander in Basra was planning one of the most risky and high-profile operations in the regiment’s recent history when he discovered that the enemy was not his biggest problem. Hunkered in the nondescript HQ in Iraq’s second city, the Lieutenant-Colonel watched for the umpteenth time as footage of the two hostages flashed on the TV screen in his office.

  He sucked a breath through gritted teeth and rolled each tense shoulder in turn. What the fuck was the delay in giving the command to go ahead? One of the hostages was a woman, for Christ’s sake.

  Three hundred miles north, on an airfield just outside Baghdad, a C-130 Hercules special forces transport plane sat on the runway, wind whipping the sand into a yellow mist. In the back a squadron of SAS troops, led by Captain Kane, were sat patiently looking at the crate of kit strapped to the floor of the fuselage, pulses quickening as they checked their Heckler & Koch submachine guns and C8 carbine rifles.

  A second SAS squadron in Basra prepared for the arrival of the reinforcements. Like any mission they had made speedy plans and moved into action with calm professionalism. But this time it was personal. One of the hostages was one of their own – an ex-SAS now turned cameraman for die hard investigator, Sky Sinclair. Dammit, if the blonde bimbo had only listened to her colleague and not led them straight into the lions’ den. Then the call came – on a secure line from a military bunker just outside London. The Lt-Col could not believe what he was hearing. ‘Permission not granted.’

  That was when the Lt-Col realised that his biggest challenge would be the top brass at home. The men waiting on the runway were flabbergasted when they heard. Captain Kane spat venom over the radio. His team, each alert and ready to go, were now being told to stand down. No fucking way!

  Acknowledging their wrath, the commanding officer made the decision that could have seen him and his brother officers hauled over the coals. The alternative, they agreed, was to resign en masse. He picked up the phone and made the fateful call. ‘We’re doing it anyway,’ he said. Minutes later the C-130 took off. There was no going back.

  ***

  As darkness fell, ten armoured vehicles, packed with SAS troops initiated the raid. They bulldozed through a 6ft wall to the hostage compound. The troops fanned out, firing stun grenades while helicopters hovered overhead.

  The quick-fire bursts of bullets whipped through the dense night air as Sky cowered in the corner of the concrete room. Beside her, the cameraman signaled for her to remain still and try to remain calm. “Make no sudden moves” he whispered hoarsely in her ear. Suddenly, the doors to their makeshift prison splintered and collapsed under the foot of two armed and masked troops.

  Momentarily blinded by the head-cams, she felt herself grabbed roughly round the waist, plastered against the solid chest of her rescuer. Without speaking, he dragged her free of her confines, before eventually releasing her inside the safety of an armoured vehicle. His hands made light work to check and feel every inch of her near naked body for injuries.

  “Are you hurt?” Captain Kane hollered above the noise, the adrenaline still coursing through his blood.

  Sky shook her head softly.

  “Answer me. Are you hurt?” Kane bellowed.

  “No. I’m ok.” She shouted.

  Kane turned to his ex-colleague, now sat alongside Sky. “Close one, Andy. You ok?”

  Andy nodded with a snigger. “I’ve been in worse scrapes, mate. Remind me not to work with women, children or animals again, though”

  Kane stared directly into the eyes of Sky. He held her gaze for several seconds before responding. “Yeah, fucking women!”

  At some point, after the SAS commander gave the green light for the raid, retrospective permission was granted by top brass back home.

  Chapter One

  Kane poured his second cup of coffee and leaned back into his chair. He was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. His team at Elite Defence would saunter in very soon so every day he got to treasure this quiet time. Since starting the company four years ago with two ex-SAS colleagues Elite Defence had grown to establish itself as one of the premier executive security agencies, both nationally and internationally.

  However, during this early morning reflection time, he often pondered if he had made the right decision to leave his band of brothers of the elite core of the SAS. But, as usual, as soon as Eddie (aka Storm), Dalton and May (aka Brains) arrived, he would push those thoughts back where they belonged - far away in the memory bank.

  Brains is always the next in through the heavily reinforced doors of the industrial unit. For a woman working with three ex-SAS guys, she holds her own. Kane and the others were not familiar to working in close proximity to women but she won each one of them over with her sharp intellect and use of colourful language. And being a sixth dan master in taekwondo also helped seal the deal. On the second day of her employment, she planted Storm firmly on his ass when he tested her resolve by playfully patting her rear. He and Kane knew at that moment they had made the right decision.

  ***

  The shrill of the telephone shakes Kane from his thoughts. He immediately recognises the gruff voice of DCI Jack Mercer of the Serious and Organised Crime Squad at Scotland Yard. He and Jack have had their fair share of tussles on the past but have now landed at a place of mutual respect.

  “Jack. What can I do for you on this fine morning?” Kane grins as he hears the grunt through the receiver.

  “What’s fucking fine about it? I need to meet up ASAP to discuss a case. Are you free in a couple of hours?” Jack growls, chewing on his cigarette.

  “Sure. You want to give me a heads up?”

  Jack inhales sharply. “Not sure how secure we are to talk. Meet me at The Feathers at noon.”

  “Not at the Yard?” Now Kane is intrigued.

  “No. The Feathers at 12” And as abruptly, Jack ends the call.

  Kane scrapes a hand down through his clipped goatee beard. His mind is now suddenly alert, processing possible scenarios for which DCI Jack Mercer would need to call in his help. The specialist Crime Squad is responsible for the management and oversight of both proactive and reactive serious crimes investigations. The unit has intelligence, weapons, highly skilled operatives et al at its disposal so what has brought Jack

  to come calling?

  A shadow is cast across the office and instinctively Kane turns his head to nod to the hulk of a man framed in the doorway. Storm folds his six foot five inch body into a chair opposite his boss performing his morning routine of a stretch and a yawn. His handsome features split into a familiar smile as he studies the serious face of Kane.

  “What’s up, m
an?” He drawls reaching across for the coffee pot.

  “You and I are meeting Jack Mercer at The Feathers at midday. He’s got some business for us but I don’t know any more than that.” Kane takes another swig of coffee before continuing. “How come you’re in before Brains? Is she sick?”

  “Ah, I left her sleeping like an angel in my bed. Didn’t want to wake her.” Storm laughs playfully.

  “In your fucking dreams, Storm!” A feminine voice bellows from the back office. “You’re not man enough for me, you loser.”

  Storm mock scowls in the direction of her voice. Kane shakes his head. Again. When will those two give it up and Get. It. On? The metal outer door creaks loudly to announce the arrival of Dalton. He sways his bulk into the main office, slumping into the nearest chair. He grunts his usual morning greeting. Both Kane and Storm arch an eyebrow in his direction.

  “Don’t even ask.” He growls in response.

  “Woman or Poker?” Storm sniggers.

  “Woman.” Dalton smirks. “They are all fucking mad!”

  Brains swings her shapely hips into the office and seats herself in the last remaining chair. Storm dances his eyes across her delicious curvy frame. She cuts him a glare. “Stop undressing me, you freak.” She snarls before the entire team erupt into their usual laughter and banter.

  Chapter Two

  The Feathers Public House on Broadway is within spitting distance of the headquarters of New Scotland Yard in Westminster. Famed for its real ale and old world oak interior, it is also the haunt of many a weary and jaded London Metropolitan Police Officer. DCI Jack Mercer is also no stranger to its surroundings.

  Today, however, he feels more weary and jaded than is normal. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, harsh breath as the two men approach his table. Kane and Storm nod their greeting before seating themselves.

  “So….what’s this all about, Jack?” Kane leans toward his friend, his voice guarded and low.

  “Do you recall seeing a BBC documentary a few months back about the alleged cover-up of the death of a prostitute found at the home of Alexei Bortsov?” Jack pushes a folder across the table.

  Kane eyes the contents, shaking his head. “Nah. Not interested in Russian oligarchs and their nocturnal habits. Why?”

  “It was a Sky Sinclair investigation. And she was definitely on to something. Something which has opened up a whole heap of shit.” Jack again pinches at the bridge of his nose.

  At the mention of her name, Sky Sinclair, Kane paws a large hand to the back of his neck feeling the instantaneous tension there. She was his last SAS mission. Saving her incredible sexy ass from a hostage situation….one in which she virtually walked right into by her own die hard foolishness.

  “How so?” Kane gestures for his friend to continue.

  “A few days later, she starts to receive threatening letters….dead flowers and the like sent to her studio…..her tyres slashed, then her apartment got broken into a couple of nights ago. She also thinks she was followed while out on her morning run. She is accustomed to having the odd threat but this has shaken her up. It was decided to place her in a Safe House while we take on the investigation. She was definitely onto something.”

  “Ok. So where do we fit in? Sounds like you have it covered.” Kane and Storm share eye contact in agreement.

  Jack leans further forward across the table, his voice low and harsh. “The Safe House was attacked last night. Her safety has been severely compromised. She’s unharmed. It was a definite hit and it reeks of Russian mob. And somehow they knew exactly where to find her.”

  The two ex-SAS men shoot a questioning look. “Where is she now?” Storm growls.

  “My place. Yeah, I know. But I had no alternative. I couldn’t risk another Safe House. So, apart from you too, only the Head of Command and DCI John Keaton know where she is. He’s with her now but we need to move her fast. The Russians are probably already on to us. That’s where you come in. Are you in?” Jack searches for an agreement.

  “Sure. We can move her for you. To where?” Kane shrugs.

  “No, not just move her. Keep her safe. Take her to one of your Safe Houses. I know you have one, maybe two. And watch over her until we’re through with the investigation.” Jack leans back into the worn leather chair releasing a heavy sigh. “Well? Are you in?”

  ***

  Kane grips the steering wheel of the Brabus Mercedes G Wagon until his knuckles ache and visibly discolour. His face is set hard with tension. Beside him, Storm clasps a hand over his sniggering mouth. Kane shoots him a glare.

  “Come on, Man. What could be worse than being holed up in the Cornwall house with a fucking smoking hot woman for a few weeks?” Storm offers a laugh to lighten Kane’s mood.

  “She might be smoking hot by your definition but the woman seems to think she’s Indiana Jones or fucking John McClane. If you want the job, be my fucking guest. I’ll take over babysitting the Congressman when he arrives tomorrow.” Kane snaps.

  “Nah. I got that, boss. After your last meeting, you and the lovely Sky need to make friends.”

  “Fuck you, Storm.” Kane swings the vehicle into the industrial estate housing Elite Defence Inc.

  Exactly thirty minutes later, Kane has briefed the team, packed a holdall, and is stood listing off the necessary armament. He and Storm will ‘collect’ the goods from Jack Mercer’s home at 13.30 hours as arranged. They jump back into the vehicle and head out towards Greenwich. At 13.28, the Brabus snakes its way along Trafalgar Road, both men eyeing every inch of the street. Storm fingers the Sig Sauer P226 strapped tightly into his shoulder holster as they pull towards their destination.

  ***

  As the two heavy, muscular men power through the entrance to my temporary safe haven inside DCI Jack Mercer’s personal residence, my heart literally leaps into my mouth. I’m not used to feeling fear but at this moment, fear is the only feeling I know. The only warning that DCI John Keaton and I had was a brief call from Jack to say the ‘goods’ were being picked up and transferred. I know, from experience, that I am the goods.

  One of the men immediately heads to the window, and crouching, positions himself there. He is a hulk of a man, several inches over six feet. His biceps strain against the material of his t-shirt as he keeps a tight hold of the gun in his holster. His eyes continuously survey the exterior of the building.

  His partner stands large over me. His eyes are dark and focussed, staring intently in my direction. He nods to John before ushering me to gather all my belongings. I have exactly 2 minutes he informs me and it is the only form of communication that is offered before I am bundled into the back of an imposing vehicle. We speed off weaving our way through the early afternoon traffic as I remain huddled in a tight ball on the back seat.

  Eventually, after what seems like hours, I recognise that we are pulling into a service station. I hold my position until the right hand door of the rear doors is opened and I am ushered out. I am surprised to be met by a very pretty woman of similar age to myself. She smiles kindly at me and extends a warm hand.

  “Hi, Ms Sinclair. I’m May or Brains as the guys call me. You ok? Come on, we’ll grab a coffee while we make the exchange. Afterwards, you will head across country with Kane to our Safe House.”

  I stretch myself out of my cramped muscles and follow her and the two men inside Camberley Service Station. Once inside, I am ushered into a booth in the corner of the restaurant area. A third man nods towards me, and as with his colleagues, there is no communication offered. Inside, I am beginning to freak out but I know I must try to remain calm. Slowly, we are all seated as May/Brains places a tray of coffees on the table.

  A young boy rushes towards our table and is suddenly halted by the large hand of the man with the goatee beard. “She’s not talking today, kid. Go back to your mum and dad.” He talks quietly but firmly.

  The young boy pouts out his bottom lip. “But….but, you are Sky Sinclair, aren’t you?” He looks directly
at my face. I nod quietly offering a small smile.

  Frustration bubbles at the surface. I throw a look at the man to my right. “Will someone tell me what is happening? Are you Police Officers? And where are we going? I have a right to be kept informed.”

  All three men stare blankly at me. I scowl at each in turn. Somehow I will get a reaction and someone will speak to me. May laughs lightly before reaching towards me. “No, we’re not Police Officers, Sky. We’re private security and that’s all I can say for now. I know you are probably freaking out right now but you have to trust us, okay?” She snorts loudly in the direction of each of her colleagues before continuing. She gestures towards the man on my right. “This is Kane. We all work for him. He will be staying with you at the Safe House and ensuring you are kept safe. The man mountain to your left is Storm, and this is Dalton. I am May as I said but the guys call me Brains, for obvious reasons.” She laughs lightly again.