Stone Fall

by J. D. Weston

  “My name’s Harvey,” he said. “I’m going to get you back to your mum. Would you like that?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Okay, let's get out of here. I don't like it here at all, do you?”

  The girl looked up at him with her big eyes and shook her head.

  “What’s your name?”

  The girl didn’t reply.

  “That’s okay, you don't have to tell me, but let's go somewhere safe.”

  He held out his hand, which she took before slipping off the old wooden chair to the floor.

  They walked to the large shutter door that the taxi had used.

  “I need to find a way to open the door. Will you help me and stay there, while I have a look around?”

  The girl nodded and hugged her arms around herself.

  “Good girl, I’ll just be here, I won't leave you.” Harvey stepped across to the big pile of junk by the seats that had been ripped out the taxi.

  He stepped back, and bumped into the girl.

  “Hey, I thought I asked you to stay by the door?”

  The girl didn’t reply.

  “That’s okay, we can look together.” He took her hand. “We’re looking for something long and strong.” Then he saw it, an old scaffold tube leaned up against the wall. Harvey bent down, picked the girl up and sat her on his hip. He stepped over the junk, car parts, gearboxes and heavy tools, grabbed the scaffold tube with one hand and walked back to the shutter doors. He set the girl down a few meters from the door. “This is going to be a bit noisy so put your fingers in your ears like this.” He motioned putting fingers in his ears and squinted his eyes shut.

  The scaffold tube was two feet long. He turned to face the doors and pulled the tube back behind him. Then, before he swung, he gave her a quick look. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  Harvey launched into an attack on the bottom part of the door and wedged the tube between the main unit and the smaller leaf section. Once he had the end of the tube through, he used his weight to lever the door open at the bottom. The mounts broke one by one, and the bottom corner began to open outwards. Once it was open enough, he turned to the girl.

  “Are you ready to get out?” He held his hand out to her.

  She nodded.

  “You’re a brave girl,” he said. “That’s it, just climb through there.” He lowered himself down and looked up at her. She looked down at him. “You be sure to tell me if anybody comes, okay?”

  She nodded.

  Harvey picked up an old screwdriver from the floor, laid down and pushed his arms through the hole. His head followed, and he wriggled until his hips caught the side of the doors. He had to pull and squeeze himself through, and the metal scraped the skin on his hips. Eventually he broke through, pulled his legs out, and rolled to stand beside her.

  “See, easy,” he said with a smile.

  She looked up at him and lifted her arms to be carried.

  “Let's go see about finding your mum eh?” he said. “Are you going to tell me your name?”

  The girl rubbed her eyes then held on to his t-shirt. “Angel,” she said in a soft, girly voice.

  “Angel?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl.”

  She buried her face into his shoulder.

  “Okay, let’s go. We need to find a car though, Angel,” said Harvey. “Which one do you like?” Harvey pointed to the two oldest cars he could see. “Do you like the blue one or the black one?”

  Angel pointed at the blue one, it was an old Ford with rusted bodywork and missing number plates. The bonnet was a lighter shade of blue than the rest of the bodywork, as if it had been replaced at some point.

  The car was parked beside a van with flat tyres, and hidden from passers-by. Harvey pulled the scaffold tube through the bent shutter door and walked to the old Ford. He set the girl down and tried the door handle. It was locked. Harvey worked his fingers into the top of the driver's window and forced the glass down as much as he could. Older cars without electric windows worked on a mechanism. The winder mechanism wound a belt that raised or lowered the frame that the glass sat on. Harvey knew that the belts on old cars had slack in them from years of use, especially the driver’s door. The window had dropped an inch, it wasn't enough to even get the girls arm inside.

  He looked around and found a wooden wedge behind the wheel of the van. He used the scaffold tube to force the wedge out from beneath the tyre and prised the top of the driver's door open enough to slot the scaffold tube inside. Any further and he risked breaking the glass. He asked Angel to help him. She put her arm in and pulled the lock up.

  “Good girl, that’s a great job,” he told her. She looked proud that she’d helped.

  Again, Harvey tried the door, and it opened.

  Next, he smashed the plastic cover beneath the steering wheel and tore it off, exposing the ignition barrel. He snapped off the barrel using the scaffold tube, leaving him with a square hole. Harvey put the flathead screwdriver from the garage into the hole and turned until the ignition lights came on, but the engine didn't turn over.

  He dropped the handbrake and lowered the window. The car had a clear run of twenty meters in front of it. Harvey rocked the car back and forth. It didn't feel like it had sat there for long, the starter motor had probably died and was sat outside to be repaired. Harvey glanced at the black Vauxhall and thought it probably worked fine, was unlocked with the keys in it, but Angel had chosen the blue car.

  He climbed out the car, and held the door frame. Grunting, he gave the car a push to start it in motion then ran harder and faster. He worked up a quick run of short steps, jumped into the driver's seat mid-run, selected first gear and bump started the little Ford.

  He didn't brake in time and crashed the front of the car into the large bins outside the warehouse. He dipped the clutch, gave it some more gas then reversed up alongside Angel.

  Harvey leaned across and opened the door for her. “How did you like that then, Angel?”

  She laughed. “You crashed.”

  “Yeah yeah, you need to get in the back and put your belt on, okay?”

  She climbed in and crawled between the front seats to sit on the back.

  “You set?” He turned, she nodded. Her head barely reached the top of the glass, she would probably need a child seat, but that was the least of his worries. “Okay, let's go find your mum, then shall we?”

  He pulled off and turned out of the compound. He worked the old car up to fourth gear quickly and relaxed into the drive. The little motor felt ancient compared to the team’s Audi, but needs must. He considered dropping Angel at a police station, but the possible consequences were entirely unknown. He couldn’t risk the delay. She’d have to go with him to London. With any luck, Melody would be there and would know what to do.

  The A12 led Harvey from Stratford into the city and the steering wheel wobbled all the way. Harvey felt like the wheels would fall off at any moment. He checked in the back infrequently and Angel seemed content looking out the window at the sky and buildings that went passed.

  “So, what did you say your mummy’s name was?”

  Angel didn’t reply.

  “Do you know where you live?”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s okay, we can find a policeman who can help us. Would you like that?”

  Angel nodded her head and looked back out the window.

  Harvey considered his predicament. He was in a stolen car with someone's kid. His team had fallen apart, one was dead, another kidnapped and the two functional members could be just about anywhere.

  He needed to find the taxi, he needed to stop the bomb, and he needed to get the kid to her parents, plus prevent the buddha being stolen, but that was way down his list.

  He found his way onto the highway into London. It was a slower route that bypassed the iron circle protecting the City of London, which was manned by police twenty-four seven. />
  He passed the Tower of London and found Upper Thames Street. From there, he turned into the side street where Hague had run. Harvey ditched the car and took Angel in his arms.

  “Okay, Angel we’re going to run now.”

  Harvey ran to the pedestrian crossing and hit the button to cross. Normally, he would have just run across the road between cars, but he was very conscious of carrying somebody else's kidnapped kid. He crossed the road and ran up a side street in the direction of St Paul’s. Then it dawned on him that he was running toward a potential bomb carrying a young girl. The odds were stacked heavily against him.

  There was a sandwich shop on the side of the road. He considered taking her inside and asking the owner to take care of her, but this was London. It wasn't an option; the police would arrive in seconds. He’d taken responsibility for her and would have to deal with it.

  “Okay, Angel, we’re going to see some people, and I need you to stay with me okay?”

  Harvey made a plan. If a cop came along, he would just say he found Angel walking the streets and hand her over. He didn't want her to be hurt, but a lot more people might die if he didn't stop the taxi.

  He stood on the corner of Queen Victoria Street and Peter’s Hill then turned to look about him. The auction house was around the corner, he couldn’t walk any further without passing it and potentially being recognised. And he definitely couldn't do that with Angel.

  He scanned the cars that drove past for the taxi. He was concentrating so hard on trying to see it that when the Volvo stopped beside him, he barely recognised Reg and Frank.

  “Stone, what the-”

  “Long story, Frank.” Harvey bent down and looked through to Reg at the wheel. “Where’s Melody?”

  “Getting set up on the roof behind you. She watched you walk up from Upper Thames Street and got us on the comms.”

  Harvey opened the rear door and put Angel inside.

  “Angel, these two men will take care of you. They’re policemen, so you’ll be safe, okay?”

  “No, they don’t look like policemen.”

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  The girl hesitated then nodded.

  “Okay, good girl. I need you to be grown up now, be strong for me. The man with the grey hair here is called Frank, he’s a very important policeman. You can ask him all sorts of questions.”

  “I don't want you to go,” cried Angel.

  “I’m sorry I have to, but I’ll be back.” He closed the rear door and turned back to Frank and Reg. “You got an ear-piece for me?”

  “You’re in luck, Harvey,” said Reg and he handed over the little ear-piece. Harvey placed it inside his ear. He hadn't liked them at first, but over the year he’d been working with the team, he’d gotten used to wearing them.

  “You might need this as well, Stone.” Frank handed him his Sig. Harvey discreetly checked the chamber and the magazine.

  “What’s the deal here?” said Harvey. “Last I heard you weren’t doing so well.”

  “Headquarters is secured, the taxi has been disarmed, and Reg has LUCY under control again.”

  “So there’s one taxi left?” asked Harvey.

  “We believe so,” replied Frank. “You’ve been busy.” Frank gestured at the girl in the back of the Volvo.

  “So have you, looks like a hell of a tea party.”

  “You should see the mess we made. Do we know the mother?”

  “Not sure about the mother, but something tells me she’s linked to all this. Reg are you tracking the taxi?” asked Harvey.

  “Yeah, it stopped for a while at a mosque in Bow. They’ve been on the move for twenty minutes, currently working their way through the city, ETA six minutes.”

  “Direction?”

  “Westbound. Melody is watching Cannon Street with her Diemaco.”

  Harvey stuck the weapon in his waist band under his t-shirt. “And the heist? Stimson?”

  “Larson and a team of men are around the corner waiting for the explosion. If we hit them now, Al Sayan might be watching. LUCY ran some calculations. If the blast of twenty-five kilos of PX5 goes off right outside the cathedral, the surrounding buildings and the cathedral itself will be destroyed, but the auction house will be fairly well protected. It might lose a few windows, but Stimson will have a getaway on the chaos.”

  “And the priceless buddha?”

  “Not if we’re quick,” said Frank. “I want you in position ready to take them down as soon as Melody takes the taxi out.”

  “Welcome back, Harvey,” said Melody over the comms.

  “I hear you need a hand?” replied Harvey.

  “I can handle it, but if you want to come and have some fun, you’re welcome.”

  “Shout when you take the shot. If you miss, I guess we’ll all know about it.”

  “If I miss and it detonates, I’ll be toast.”

  There was a silence as the team all thought about Denver.

  “Yeah, well,” said Harvey. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “One minute,” announced Reg.

  “Get her out of here,” said Harvey to Reg, then ran off, ready to slip around the corner.

  “I have the driver in my sight,” said Melody coolly. Harvey pictured her with one eye closed and her finger resting on the trigger. She’d be beginning to work the trigger into the crook of her index finger.

  “Hold on, there’s two of them,” said Melody. “They’ve stopped, and the passenger has got out. He’s walking towards the auction house on your side of the street, hundred yards.”

  “Al Sayan,” said Harvey. “He’s a decoy, where’s he gone?”

  “I can’t see him, he’s between the buildings.”

  Harvey ran to Cannon Street. St Paul’s loomed above him. He turned right and scanned the pathways for Al Sayan. The taxi stood at the end of the road, parked as if it was waiting for a fare.

  “I have the driver in my sight. Am I taking him down or what?” said Melody.

  Harvey didn’t reply.

  “Harvey, talk to me,” said Melody, keeping her voice calm and her breathing relaxed.

  Just then, Harvey heard screaming coming from his left. He looked across the road at St Paul’s and saw smoke pouring through the open door of a pub on Cheapside, the road that ran behind the cathedral.

  People ran from coffee shops to get clear of any blast that would follow the smoke. A car swerved to the other side of the road when the driver saw people running, and slammed into a young couple who were running away. Crowds came running down towards Harvey. They ran in the road, on the pavement and across the grass, anyway they could to get away from the scene.

  “Kill zone, Melody. Same as Canary Wharf.”

  “Where’s Al Sayan?” asked Melody.

  “He’s disappeared,” replied Harvey,

  “Okay, Harvey, taxi is moving.”

  Harvey watched as the taxi pulled slowly out from the lay-by, and drove directly towards him.

  “Take him down, Melody.” Harvey ran towards the taxi. If Melody only wounded the driver, he could still hit the switch. Harvey pulled his Sig as he ran. The driver saw Harvey and accelerated. “Anytime, Melody.”

  “I don’t have a shot,” Melody replied.

  Harvey stopped on the road with one hundred yards to go and aimed his Sig with two hands. He calmed his breathing and fired. The windscreen shattered, but the taxi carried on accelerating.

  Fifty yards.

  Harvey began to see the driver’s face.

  He fired his weapon again, and Harvey saw the man lurch into the back of the seat. The taxi rolled to a stop twenty meters from Harvey. If it detonated, he would be torn to pieces along with the dozens of people that were still running from the smoking pub across the street.

  Harvey stepped forward slowly. With each step, Harvey kept his gun on the man. More people ran from the smoke, saw Harvey standing with a gun and stopped. A group was forming. Harvey glanced across at them. “Move, go, run.” He co
uldn’t form a sentence.

  He turned back to the driver just as his head began to move, then his face caved in. Harvey heard the report of Melody’s rifle, and again. The man's chest opened up from the 7.62 calibre Diemaco almost instantly.

  Harvey stepped to the side of the car and wrenched the door open. The man had his hand on the switch, but would never be able to push the button or anything else again. Harvey carefully pulled the switch from his hand and laid it on the seat. Then he dragged the ruined body from the taxi. He stepped away backwards as he saw policemen running toward him. Sirens grew louder from all directions.

  “Target is down,” said Harvey. “We’ve lost Al Sayan.”

  21

  The Serpent’s Trap

  “The auction house,” said Melody.

  Harvey turned and ran along the narrow lane between the buildings opposite the cathedral. The auction house was a single five-story brick building that was surrounded on all four sides by smaller lanes. It had an industrial look and was rounded by offices buildings, coffee shops and small restaurants. It had two basement levels, a little loading bay and a modest reception. Harvey stood in front of the reception. He doubted Stimson and his men would use the main entrance, they would be behind the building.

  Harvey checked the doors anyway, they were locked. He walked around the side of the auction house, turned the corner and saw the front end of the white van sticking out. He put his weapon away and pulled his t-shirt over it, then pulled out one of the phones and pretended to be typing a message while he walked.

  He turned the corner by the van, expecting to be confronted by Stimson's men, but it was empty. The van was locked. A small set of steps led down to a service entrance of the building. The door was ajar.

  Harvey put the phone away. If he walked in, they’d be no pretending.

  “Harvey, where are you? I’m at ground level,” said Melody over the comms.

  “Service entrance, back side.”