Hot Zone (Major Crimes Unit Book 2)

Home > Other > Hot Zone (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) > Page 13
Hot Zone (Major Crimes Unit Book 2) Page 13

by Iain Rob Wright


  Sarah brought her fingers to the scars on her face and suddenly felt weak. It was strange, but some ethereal feeling came over her where she could almost remember what her father was describing. She had brief snatches of sitting on a man’s lap and feeling sleepy as the words of a lullaby soothed her. But as soon as the memory came it vanished. For that split-second she had had a loving father, and it had felt good.

  Breslow took the floor again. “If the Intel was wrong, then it was your job to report it, Major.”

  Major Stone lifted his chin, staring down his nose at her. “I did report it. I saw the children thirty-seconds after I lased the building. I tried to call off the strike, but word came from above that my objections were received but overruled. Somebody high up felt that taking out Al-Sharir was important enough to drop the bomb anyway, collateral damaged be damned. That order came from you, Prime Minister.”

  Breslow huffed. “How could you possibly come to that conclusion? I have no hand in military operations other than sanctioning them.”

  “I am Major Stone. The men and women of the Armed Forces fear and respect me. I knew within the hour who gave the order. Men I would trust with my life swore that it came from the very top. Number 10 gave the order to continue with the bombing, despite the presence of over a hundred non-combatants. You killed a hundred children, Breslow. No, you have probably killed thousands since you came to power. You are a butcher. Now I will repay you for your sins.”

  Major Stone reached for the briefcase.

  Sarah stepped forward. “Major Stone, stop!”

  22

  Her father looked at her. “I need to do this, Sarah. It’s time that the right people were finally made to pay, instead of more innocents.”

  “There are people in this room who are innocent,” said Sarah.

  “Ha! Do you really believe that?”

  She glanced around the room, at the frightened faces of the male and female MPs. All of them wore fine suits and seemed only concerned for themselves. “Perhaps not,” she admitted, “but you open that briefcase and the virus kills a lot more people than are in this room. You were going to release it at Heathrow for Christ’s sake. It’s madness.”

  For the first time in her life, her father seemed insecure. His voice lost a measure of its authority and his glaring eyes failed to keep still. “Something has to change. Releasing the virus at the airport would have rocked the foundations of the earth. There are a group of powerful men ready to rebuild a better world, but first this one has to tumble.”

  “You sound insane,” she said.

  “Not insane, just exhausted. Say what you want about me, Sarah, but I have never done anything in anger or for revenge. Every bad deed I have ever done I have done with a clear head and a sense of duty. I’d never even felt rage until after what I saw them do to that orphanage, and what they did to you.”

  Sarah pointed to her scars and said angrily, “Hesbani did this to me and I killed him myself. I don’t need anyone to feel angry on my behalf.”

  “A father has no choice, and not everybody is able to earn their own justice. You are one of the lucky ones, Sarah. All that the other victims of this country’s militaristic greed have is me. I will bring them their justice.”

  Sarah headed away from the doors and towards her father at the Speaker’s dais, ignoring Howard’s warning to stay back. She stood before the Speaker’s chair and looked up at her father. “Killing doesn’t erase killing. This isn’t what you devoted your life to. In the past, you took orders, but now you’re making your own decisions, which means that all of this is on you.”

  Her father smiled at her, then actually began chuckling. It was a sad laugh, one that came before an emotional rupture. “I admit it,” he said. “You make me proud, Sarah. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? I’ve always been proud of you. Somebody tells you that you can’t do something and you set out to prove them wrong. The SAS is just the same. I, too, spent my life doing things that other men told me were impossible. You are a lot like me, Sarah. I just wish you’d been a man. Think of what you might have achieved then. Maybe we might have truly served alongside one another. Maybe then you would not be opposing me. It is a shame.”

  Howard stepped up beside Sarah and lowered his gun. “Major Stone, you have served this country with honour. Don’t end your career this way.”

  “You think history will look upon me poorly?”

  “Of course.”

  “Guy Fawkes once tried to destroy parliament and he is remembered as a beloved martyr. I feel, in time, I will be no different, but if not, I don’t care. All I care about is Breslow admitting to her crimes. If she doesn’t, I will release this virus and kill everyone in this room. There is no vanquishing the beast inside this box.”

  Breslow folded her arms. “I have nothing to admit to but doing my duty. My obligation is to the prosperity and welfare of this nation. Every time a country imperils us it imperils itself. The blood of those Syrian orphans is on Syrian hands.”

  All of the MPs in the room swallowed and grew pale. No doubt they wanted to see Breslow fall on her sword so that this could be over with, but Breslow did not bow down to terrorists.

  “I admire men like you,” said Breslow. “You do as you see fit, and there is no shame in that, but the problem is that you’re a man. You lack any sort of finesse. Like a bull you charge at the red flag and hope to gore it with your horns. You see, a woman does not charge the red flag, she holds it so that men like you can chase it blindly until you are too tired to stand. If you had been a woman, Major Stone, you might have actual been of some use.”

  Major Stone’s face went as red as the hypothetical red flag and he raised both MP5s at Breslow. The leader reacted quickly, running and diving behind one of the benches, managing somehow to keep hold of her heels. Left, standing out in the open, was the leader of the opposition. The gangly man took the full brunt of the dual machine gun fire. His dark, sunken eyes bulged from his head and his slanted teeth turned red as blood shot from his throat. He slumped forwards onto the centre table and knocked the mace onto the floor, the ceremonial staff needed to pronounce the House in session. Sarah watched it roll along the floor at her feet and settle in a puddle of blood.

  Howard aimed and took a shot at Major Stone, but missed. Major Stone returned fire and sent Howard into cover. More MPs made for the doors but were quickly gunned down. Their bodies fell and blocked the doors from being opened. Sarah stood in the middle of the flying bullets and screaming MPs and kept her eyes on her father. He had placed the briefcase down on the Speaker’s desk as he wielded an MP5 in each hand. He was choosing his shots carefully, picking off the most senior members of the House with single, precise rounds. The Education Secretary lay on her back, clutching her throat and making strangling sounds. Most of the ruling cabinet were dead and a good portion of the opposition, too.

  Sarah raced forwards, leaping up onto the centre table and heading towards the raised Speaker’s dais at the far end, where she leapt into the air. Her father was distracted, shooting the panicked MPs whilst also keeping one eye on Howard, the only other armed man in the room. Sarah made it onto the Speaker’s dais and snatched at the briefcase, grabbing it with both hands. Major Stone immediately turned both guns on her, but didn’t fire. Instead he shouted, “Sarah, no!”

  Sarah landed back on the floor and immediately started running.

  Howard leapt up and fired, suppressing Major Stone from retaliating. Sarah made it all the way back to the doors, where she proceeded to try and drag the bodies out of the way.

  “Sarah, is that you?” It was Mattock. His strike team had arrived outside in the hallway.

  “Yes, it’s me. The doors are blocked. My father has killed half of parliament.”

  “That sodding nutter. Is it over? Do you have him?”

  “No, I-”

  “SARAH!”

  Sarah flinched, spun around, looked for her father at the dais but did not see him.

  How
ard was hiding in the benches of the sitting government and he nodded over to the opposite side of the room when her eyes fell on him. On the opposite side of the chamber, her father had an arm wrapped around Breslow’s neck and held an MP5 to her temple. The other MPs were huddled in a group nearby.

  “Put down the briefcase,” he demanded. “I will not be stopped.”

  Sarah made eye-contact with Breslow, who seemed entirely calm despite her predicament. The huddled MPs beside her were clutching their chests and breathing heavily.

  “Just go,” shouted Breslow. “Get that briefcase somewhere where it can’t hurt anybody.”

  Sarah nodded and turned back towards the doors. Mattock and his men had taken to barging it and there was a slight opening now that was growing ever wider.

  “The briefcase will open as soon as the timer runs out, Sarah,” her father warned, his confident voice returned, “unless I put in the code. Put it down and get away from it.” He sounded almost concerned.

  “This bitch is going to admit to her crimes or the whole of London is going to start bleeding from their eye sockets by nightfall.”

  For the first time since this whole thing began, Sarah saw fear in Breslow’s eyes.

  “You were always going to release the virus, weren’t you?” said Sarah.

  “Of course. Killing the Government isn’t enough, but with no one running the country the virus will be unstoppable. The United Kingdom will become a worldwide charity case. Eventually, the virus will spread worldwide, the population will diminish and the world will start over, better.”

  Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You want the apocalypse? What if this virus wipes out the planet?”

  “Krenshaw designed the virus to infect only one out of every two people. At its worst it would merely kill half the world’s population, and that’s nothing but a good thing.”

  “No virus would be able to spread unopposed,” said Breslow. “We’ll fight it, we’ll understand it, and we’ll win. You cannot hope to change anything.”

  Sarah heard a whisper behind her and glanced back to see Mattock’s face at the door. He was poking something through the gap at her. She took it at once and quickly slid it under her shirt and into the waistband of her trousers. Her father was staring at her but hadn’t seemed to have notice the exchange.

  “I need you to get away from here, Sarah. That briefcase is going to open whether you like it or not. I never did much for you, but I’m giving you the chance to save yourself.”

  “I already have a containment unit on the way,” said Howard. “We’ll secure the briefcase and dispose of it. It’s over, Major Stone.”

  “Is it? I’ve lost track of time. The virus could be released in the very next minute. How quickly do you think your containment unit can get here?”

  Howard swallowed so loud that it echoed in the chamber.

  “Give me Breslow and I’ll leave,” said Sarah. “You want to save me then let all of these people go and I will get far away from here.”

  “Sarah, I’m not negotiating.”

  Breslow sniggered. “How novel. A terrorist refusing to negotiate with us.”

  Major Stone growled and let off a shot into the crowd, hitting an anonymous MP in the face. That was the last straw. The group of MPs bolted, leaping over benches and chairs, trampling one another and throwing each other aside in a bid to get to the doors. At that same moment, Mattock’s team forced their way through the doors and began gathering the MPs to safety. Howard leapt from cover and joined Sarah in the middle of the chamber by the main table. “It’s finished, Sarah. I understand if you want to get out of here.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not over.”

  Major Stone still held the muzzle of an MP5 to Breslow’s head. “You want the PM, then hand over the briefcase.”

  “Why?” asked Sarah. “If it’s set to go off, then why do you even want it?”

  “To make sure it goes off.”

  “You’ll get sick, too. Is that how you want to die? Of a disease?”

  “It’s nobler than most the deaths I have seen.”

  “Okay,” said Sarah. “I’ll give you the briefcase and you give me the Prime Minister.”

  For once, Breslow kept her mouth shut. The horror had finally broken her resolve and she wore the vacant stare of a frightened hostage.

  Her father nodded. “I’ll meet you in the middle. I want your man to toss his gun aside.”

  Howard shook his head. “This isn’t happening. You’re not getting the briefcase and I am not disarming.”

  Sarah moved close to Howard and spoke into his ear. “It’s okay. He won’t shoot me. Mattock passed me a gun. Play along and I’ll end this.”

  Howard looked uneasy, but he threw aside his gun. “Fine, but the moment you try to leave this building, Major, they’re going to take you out.”

  “I’m ready to meet my end. Just hurry this up.”

  Sarah headed into the middle of the room and waited for her father to meet her.

  23

  Winter, 1984

  “Hush now, sweetheart, it’s time to go to sleep.”

  Five-year old Sarah fought to keep her eyes open, because she knew that once they closed she would fall asleep and her daddy would leave. Soon he would be leaving for work and she was going to miss him. How would she fall asleep without him there each night? How could she sleep without hearing him sing to her?

  “It’s okay to close your eyes, Sarah. I won’t be leaving for a few more days and then I will be back home again before you know it. They’re sending me to a place called Iraq where it’s really sunny and there’s lots of sand. I’m part of a very special team that will keep me safe and bring me home to you and your mum. You don’t need to worry. You are my angel. The best thing in my entire life, but I have to go away to work so that I can give you everything you need. Just be a good girl and go to sleep and tomorrow we can go and feed the ducks at the pond.”

  Sarah yawned, but continued to keep her eyes open. Her daddy was the strongest and bravest daddy of them all, and she didn’t want him to go. But right now she was so tired.

  “Sing to me, daddy.”

  Her father kissed her forehead. “Of course. Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight

  With lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed…”

  Five-year-old Sarah was asleep before she knew it.

  Her father was gone the next day, his unit leaving earlier than expected. When he came back, he was never the same.

  24

  Major Stone stepped out from around the Speaker’s dais, dragging the Prime Minister with him. She went willingly, apparently eager to exchange her life for something that might well end it anyway.

  “It’s your last chance to stop this, dad.”

  Major Stone looked at his daughter and grunted. “You can’t stop a bullet once it’s been fired.”

  Sarah sighed and lifted up the briefcase with one hand. With the other she reached behind her back and gripped the handgun Mattock had given her.

  “Hand Breslow over.”

  “First, place the briefcase on the ground.”

  Sarah exhaled, wondering if she had the ability to do what she needed to do. She knelt down, placing the briefcase on the ground, and then remained in a crouch, gripping the gun behind her back and willing herself to spring up and unload a bullet into her father’s face while she had the chance.

  “You probably think I won’t shoot you,” her father said. “Even when you pull that gun you have. Wrong”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow and managed to utter one word. “What?”

  Her father levelled the MP5 at her and pulled the trigger.

  Sarah’s vision curled inwards and spun. She hit her head on the floor and was aware of nothing but her pulse beating in her temples. She looked to her side and saw Howard running towards her father, but he was shot before getting anywhere close. He pin wheeled around and disappeared behind the first row of benches.

 
Major Stone looked down at his daughter without sympathy. “I really am proud of you,” he said, “but better men than you have tried to take me down and failed.”

  Then he grabbed Breslow around the neck and began moving away with her, taking the briefcase with him and keeping the MP5 against his hostage’s head.

  Sarah lay on the floor bleeding while Howard moaned nearby. She heard Mattock shouting, but it eventually changed to an order for his men to back off. There was no chance the cockney sergeant would take a risk with both the briefcase and Breslow’s life on the line. Major Stone was well protected, even with a dozen guns aimed at him.

  Eventually, one of Mattock’s men broke free and came to Sarah’s aid. He checked her over with his gloved hands, looking for damage. “You’re okay,” he said. “You’ve taken a slug in the shoulder, but you’ll be fine.”

  Sarah didn’t feel fine. The pain in her upper body felt like her bones were being pressed. She had been wrong about her father — he would dare to shoot her, but not fatally it seemed. Howard was okay too and he recovered enough to come help her to his feet. His vest had taken the full impact of the slug, which had been fired at him from some distance, and he had only been winded. Thank God they had both heeded Mattock’s earlier warning to wear vests.

  “We have to get after him,” said Sarah, wincing as she held onto her shoulder.

  Howard nodded. “Hell yes, we do. This is Wilder,” he nodded to the member of Mattock’s strike team who had come to their aid. A young man with messy blonde hair and fuzzy stubble — the Milky Bar Kid all grown up. “Wilder, this is Sarah Stone. She’s with us.”

 

‹ Prev