by J. D. Weston
He didn't need friends. He was Harvey Stone.
He pulled the lace through the two zip-ties on his wrists.
So what if Julios had lied? His whole life had been a charade anyway. People had watched him try to understand and fail for as long as he could remember. What was the point in trying to understand now?
He pulled a loop over each boot.
So what if I’m alone. Don't they know who I am?.
He leaned back and lifted his legs, working his feet back and forth, the lace heating and wearing through the plastic zip-ties.
Al Sayan can’t stop me with words. I’m Harvey Stone.
The lace cut through the first zip-tie.
I’m Harvey Stone.
Snap.
The second zip tie fell to the floor. Harvey replaced his bootlace, rubbed his wrists and stood up.
“Come on then, Harvey Stone. Since when did a closed door stop you?”
He stood and stretched. He closed his eyes to the darkness and breathed calm, deep breaths. He filled his lungs with the stale air and pictured the room before Al Sayan had closed and locked the door.
Breeze block walls, hard and thick. Solid wooden door with steel reinforcement in the form of a plate on each side of the door. The wooden frame. Harvey imagined the frame being screwed into the concrete blocks; strong but not impossible to shear off.
He walked towards the wall with the door and felt along until he found the wooden frame. His hands felt the wood in the darkness. He touched the door handle, cool in the cold warehouse.
Then he felt the hinges on the weakest side. He had heard the many bolts being slid into place into recesses drilled into the concrete blocks. The hinges, however, would just be drilled into the door frame.
He stepped back with his left leg. It still throbbed, and Harvey knew without looking that it would be badly bruised. He’d been lucky, the taxi had been empty, and had bounced over his leg. The tissue would be damaged, the muscles sore, but the bone was intact. It just needed time to heal.
Harvey slowly raised his right foot to the hinged side of the door and judged a solid kick with the heel of his boot.
He lowered his foot, stepped back and kicked.
Thud.
It was solid.
Thud. Thud.
He thought of the taxi making its way into the city.
Thud.
He heard a small shower of dust fall from the concrete blocks surrounding the door frame.
Thud. Thud.
The taxi driver’s dirty, toothless grin.
Thud.
The wires that ran from the plastic explosives in the rear.
Thud.
People crossing the street, stepping back to take photos of St Paul's to show their families when they got home.
Thud.
Ordinary people wearing ordinary clothes going to ordinary jobs.
Thud. Thud.
More dust.
Al Sayan.
Thud.
His cruel smile.
Thud.
Julios.
Thud, thud, thud.
Standing over his dead parents.
Crack.
The lies.
Crack.
The explosion.
The door frame split at the top and light spilt into the small room.
Thud.
More light.
Thud.
I don't need anybody.
Crack.
Julios.
Crack.
Al Sayan.
Crunch. The door fell away. Its lower hinge held true but twisted under the weight of the wood and steel plate.
Harvey stood, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped out into the warehouse.
Dust had filled the air from the crashing and banging and it hung in swirling beams of light from the extractor fan that span slowly in the centre of the warehouse’s rear wall.
Everything else remained as it had. Harvey strode towards the two exit doors. The shutter had been pulled down over the single door. A small repair job had been done, and Harvey saw the new wood where he had broken the door with Melody.
The large sliding shutter doors were locked, but Harvey had a plan.
He passed the other rooms and noted the locks. He stepped back to room three and put his ear to the door.
He knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again, slightly harder.
Then faintly, he heard a voice. “Hello?”
19
Gentle Giant
Melody watched the taxi leave the car park, then popped up to her feet, grabbed the rifle and the Peli case, and ran to the Audi. Reg moved out the driver’s seat and climbed back into the rear. Melody snatched open the boot, dumped the Peli case inside and carried the rifle to the passenger seat. She made the rifle safe, then set it down and wedged it between the seat and the door so it wouldn’t move.
“How’s HQ looking?” she asked, “How many do we have there?”
She slammed the car into reverse and accelerated through the empty car park.
“Melody?” said Reg, looking out the rear window with concern on his face.
“Talk to me, Reg. What’s HQ looking like?”
She slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel, dipped the clutch, and found first gear. As she slammed the accelerator down once again, the car spun and its momentum from the spin and power from first gear sent the rear wheels sliding out across the gravel. Small stones pounded the bodywork and the underside of the car.
“Reg, come on.” She accelerated away from the car park and settled in for the ride, pulling her belt on and checking her mirrors.
“The taxi went the other way, Melody,” said Reg.
“Harvey will have to look after himself. Headquarters?”
“I’m looking at my webcam, there’s only one man there as far as I can see.
Melody took a final glance in her rearview mirror and saw the taxi disappear from sight. “Good luck, Harvey.”
Reg heard her, and glance behind him. “You think he’ll be okay?”
Melody sighed. “I don’t know, Reg. We need to get Frank.”
“I’m looking at Frank now. He’s tougher than he looks.”
“He’s been through enough.”
“I honestly have no idea how I’d react if that were me.” Reg stared at the image. Frank was sat behind the man at Reg’s computers. He was gagged and tied to a chair. It was the chair from Harvey’s desk. His legs were bound, and his wrists were tied behind him.
“I saw you back there, Reg,” said Melody. “You held your own.”
“The driver though,” said Reg. “What the hell goes through these people’s minds? He looked crazy. Surely they feel some kind of remorse? He was pure evil.”
“It’s exactly as Frank said, Reg.”
“What?”
“It’s what we’re up against. There’s no respect for life.”
“This is too big for us, Melody, we need to call it in.”
“Call it in? What do you think will happen, Reg? I’ll tell you, the taxi won't be stopped and the driver won’t be arrested, he’ll detonate the car. And Frank? They’ll detonate that taxi too. We can do this, Reg. What would Harvey do?”
“Normally? Torture them or something.”
“No, he wouldn’t, you talk about him like he’s a monster, Reg. He’d wait, then he’d make a plan, and then he’d execute.”
“We don't have time to wait. Do you have a plan, Melody?”
“Are you controlling LUCY?”
“Not controlling, observing. If I make a move, he’ll know I’m there and kick me out.”
“That’s good, stay out of sight, but watch him.”
“What are you going to do? We can’t go kicking the doors down and storming in.”
“We have to believe that Harvey will be okay, and if Harvey’s okay, that means he’ll take care of the taxi. Our focus is Frank, HQ and the other taxi. Pull up the satellite of HQ and find
me a roof.”
“A roof?”
“Somewhere I can get a shot in.”
“Okay, there’s flats in the next road, but-”
“Can we get on top?”
“I guess so, but-”
“That’s all we need. If Harvey takes his taxi out, they’ll need the one in HQ to do the job. We can take them out from the roof. It’s a gamble, but if I can make the shot-”
“Oh no,” said Reg.
“Tell me, Reg.”
“I’m watching him. He’s smart. He’s taken control of the CCTV in the city.”
“How’s he done that?” asked Melody.
“He’s into the Bishopsgate control centre. That's where the police monitor the city cameras from.”
“What’s he looking at?”
“Looks like Queen Victoria Street. Have a guess where?”
“The auction house?”
“White van parked outside. Crew of workman beside it.”
“The buddha.”
“To be honest, they can take the buddha, I don't care anymore.”
“Reg, come on, we need to focus on the taxis.”
“There’s only two of us, Melody. Denver’s gone, Harvey’s been captured, and Frank is tied up next to a ticking time bomb.”
“Reg, stop it,” said Melody harshly. “You’re the best god damn tech guy I know. Think clearly, what can we do? I’ll tell you what we can do, one thing at a time. That's what we can do. That's all we can do.”
“One thing at a time.”
“One thing at a time, Reg,” replied Melody,
“Right, time to get LUCY back,” said Reg.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to show this bastard exactly how powerful LUCY is.”
Reg began to type frantically on the laptop.
“First of all, I need to get him off of her.”
“What are you doing, Reg?”
“I’m logging on to LUCY’s admin console and disabling his phone to start with. He won't know until he tries to use it.”
Melody looked in the rearview mirror and saw Reg with the tip of his tongue between his lips, concentrating.
“Right, now let's freak him out a little,”
“What you got in mind?”
“Just ringing a few phones around the building. The digital phone system has a test feature that can ring all the phones at once. I’m even setting the ringtone to Rule Britannia, boom, there, now he’s wondering what’s going on.”
“Don't piss him off, Reg, we don't want him to detonate.”
“I’m just toying with him. If he’s any kind of specialist, he’ll try to resist me before it comes to that.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure, Melody. There we go, his account is disabled, and his screen is locked. From LUCY’s admin console I can capture his keystrokes.”
“What will that do?”
“That’ll enable me to get his password, so I can undo whatever damage he’s done once we’re done with him. He’ll likely be trying to access the system, so LUCY will capture everything he does. I can also pull a report on everywhere he’s been in the system with that user account.”
Reg hummed to himself, a sign he was pleased with his efforts.
“Right, next, remove the trackers from our phones, they’re all in Harvey’s pockets right now, but he may have given another system access.”
“We're nearly there, Reg.”
“I’m nearly done, I’m just going to shut the screens down, and then…” Reg hit the keyboard with finality. “Turn the lights off.”
“Nice touch, have you ever seen how dark it is in there with the lights off?”
“Yeah it's creepy,”
“Is that the road there?” Melody pointed to a side road close to the HQ turning.
“That’s the one, the flats are at the end on the left.”
Melody stopped the car outside the flats on double yellow lines.
She grabbed the rifle and the magazine from the passenger side, climbed out and slammed the door shut.
Reg opened his door.
“Stay there Reg. I need eyes.”
Reg pointed to his ear-piece and cupped his hand around his ear. “If you use the comms this close, he’ll hear, use code.”
Melody was aware that she was standing in the middle of a road with an automatic rifle. It was a dead-end side street that led down to the river, so it was quiet, but people still had windows.
“Before you do anything, Melody,” began Reg, “I’m taking my LUCY back.”
“I’ll give two clicks on the ear-piece, Reg. On the first one, I want you to sound the alarms in the building.”
“Copy.” Reg was listening intently and realised the plan as Melody explained her requests.
“Second time, I want you to open the shutter doors. I’ll take care of the rest.”
She turned and saw a teenager run from the flats and disappear around the back of the building. Clean white trainers, tracksuit bottoms and a thick hooded sweater; it was probably a paranoid drug dealer that happened to see Melody out his window. Melody caught the door as it slowly swung shut and took the stairs. The flats were low rise, five stories. She ran all the way up and kicked through the door at the top. Pigeons scurried away in a chaotic bid for escape. The roof was covered in gravel, bird droppings and aerials. She sank to the floor and crawled across the stones and crap to the low wall that faced HQ.
She chanced a glance over the wall. To HQ, it was a six hundred yard shot, not easy with the wind off the river below. She was protected by the walls so couldn't feel the wind, but the trees and clothes that hung from washing lines further along the road told her it was gusting still, and quite strong. Five or six knots. She’d need to time her shot right.
She brought the rifle up and sat the fold-down bi-pod on the wall, then pulled the rifle butt into her shoulder and stood until the green metal shutter doors of HQ came into view through the scope.
She was relying on human instinct. She was relying on gut feeling. She was relying on hope.
Melody clicked once on her ear-piece.
A piercing alarm sounded from the building. The flashing light above the doors began to spin and cast an orange glow even in the daylight. The alarm sound would be deafening inside. Melody remembered that when it was installed, they all had to leave the building; the noise was intolerable.
She clicked a second time.
The shutter doors cracked open then, as the motor took up the slack in the concertina doors, they slowly dragged open. Melody imagined the man inside holding his ears, then trying to find the door override, a large red button on one side of the shutters. The door was open more than a metre now.
Melody calmed her breathing. Her focus through the scope was in the centre of the gap in the shutter door. The noise of the alarm was loud, even from six-hundred yards away. Nothing.
“Come on, you bastard. Show yourself.”
Then a foot appeared in the scope’s magnified view.
It shuffled sideways. Black business shoes and black suit trousers. Frank. Behind him was Al Sayan’s tech guy.
Melody lowered the butt of the rifle a fraction and saw Frank, gagged and blindfolded, his hands behind his back. The man was standing behind him with his arm around Franks' neck, pushing him towards the shutter door.
The Arab stood directly behind Frank. There was no clear shot for Melody.
Melody kept Frank’s head in view, knowing that the terrorist’s face was just behind. She just needed Frank to move, but the other man was cautious or afraid. Determined.
The door stopped moving when the Afghan hit the big red button. One more push began its closing action. Melody’s heart raced as the door slowly crept into view from the right-hand side of her scope.
Frank, whose ankles had been untied to walk him to the door, suddenly bent forward and slammed his head back into the man’s face, then bent double all the way down. The terrorist wa
s caught off guard and brought this hands up to his bloodied nose.
Time stood still.
Melody opened her free eye and saw the trees still. The bright white shirt that hung out to dry hung freely and motionless. Melody squeezed the trigger, and before the man's hands reached his ruined nose, the back of his head exploded in a shower of bone, blood and brains.
Frank fell to the floor and was still, blinded by the rags the man had tied around his head.
“Kill the noise, Reg,” said Melody. “Target is down.”
The alarms fell silent.
“Open the doors.”
The shutter doors began their slow opening action. The electronic motors pulled on long chains, winding them onto the chain spools. The light filled the floor of headquarters. Melody could see Denver’s workshop area. The taxi, the blood. The pristine tool chests and workbench, the dead man on the floor.
“That was for you, Denver buddy.”
20
The Angel and the Beast
Harvey found a long crowbar, and after a few minutes had successfully ripped the door off room three. He stepped to one side and let the door fall to the floor, then stepped into the empty doorway.
The room was the same as the one he’d been locked in. No furniture or shelving around the edges, no windows and a dirty, dusty concrete floor. The only difference was the chair that stood in the centre of the room. Sat on the chair was a small girl. Her long, blonde hair hung across her eyes. She’d been unable to move the chair because her hands were tied, as were her ankles. She wasn’t gagged or blindfolded, but there was no reason to in the small dark room.
Harvey saw the dirty face that stared up at her, scared and trembling. She had cried so much that her eyes were puffed. Dried tear marks ran down her face, and cut through the grime like water on the walls of a limestone cave. Two eyes shone from swollen eyelids, big and blue.
No words were needed.
Harvey stepped closer with his hands held up in a gesture of peace. He bent down to untie her, but she fought and struggled. Harvey didn't bother to try and calm her, he would untie her and then she would calm down. She struggled the whole time, and when he had finished, she sat still.