SAVE THE QUEEN: AN ALEX HALEE AND JAMIE AUSTEN SPY THRILLER (THE SPY STORIES Book 4)

by Terry Toler

  I pointed to my headset, so he’d know I wanted to communicate with him. When he pointed at his like he couldn’t hear me, I realized the radio wasn’t on. The terrorist must’ve turned it off sometime before he met his demise. In all the chaos, I hadn’t noticed. Immediately upon turning it on, the man’s voice erupted in my head.

  “What are your intentions?” the fighter pilot said.

  “I have a dirty bomb on board.”

  I immediately realized how that must’ve sounded to him. Like I was making a threat. Before he could respond, I clarified that statement.

  “What I mean is that this helicopter had a terrorist on it who intended to blow up a dirty bomb at the royal wedding and kill the Queen. I eliminated the threat, and I’m flying the bomb to the abandoned missile site just ahead.”

  According to my computer screen and radar map, I was still ten minutes away. A quick glance back at the bomb confirmed my worst fear. Only eight minutes until detonation. Time to consider other options.

  “We’ll escort you.”

  “Negative. This thing is going to blow in eight minutes.”

  “You won’t make it to the missile site.”

  “I already know that. Any other ideas?”

  “What about a parachute? You could put it on autopilot and jump.”

  “I already thought of that. This bird’s been stripped bare of everything. There’s not even a fire extinguisher on board.”

  That thought almost made me chuckle, even in the tense situation. What good would a fire extinguisher do me now? I needed a release, as the soberness of my fate became clearer every second that clicked off the doomsday clock in the back of my helicopter. That provided me one, if only for a few seconds.

  A different voice crackled through my headset. I assumed the pilot on my left was the one speaking.

  “There’s a canyon just ahead. Two o’clock. Four minutes away. You can land there. It has steep cliffs on all sides. That’ll control the blast radius.”

  “There won’t be a shelter in there,” the right side fighter pilot said. “Or enough time to vacate.”

  His words only confirmed what I already knew. This was a one-way trip. Of the thousand regrets I’d have if I allowed myself to think of it, the main consolation was that at least I saved the life of the Queen and the scores of thousands who would’ve been in the blast radius had it gone off in downtown London. That was my job. It came with the territory. I always knew at some point I might be required to give my life to save others. It just sucked that it was on my honeymoon.

  “You guys high tail it out of here,” I said. “Get far enough away so you’re not affected by the blast.”

  A sober silence filled the airwaves. Suddenly the man on the right waved to me and then banked hard and peeled off. I assumed the other guy did the same.

  “Good luck and Godspeed,” the man said. “And God save the Queen.”

  He had.

  With my help.

  That was the only thing that brought me comfort. Of all the things on my mind, Jamie rose to the top. Her face was all I could see. I pushed her out of my mind. I needed to focus on landing the helicopter.

  The canyon was just ahead to the right. I turned the craft slightly so I could come in over the top of the highest ridge. In my mind, I pictured that would have the steepest cliffs. As I rose over the cliff and started into the valley, I felt my breath leave me. Under any other circumstances, the view would be postcard worthy.

  I broke hard and reduced my speed. Then began to hover and set the helicopter down perfectly and gently like I was making a moon landing. I shut it off. Then took an inventory of my surroundings, looking to see if there was any possible shelter.

  Nothing but steep cliffs on each side.

  Maybe a large boulder or two. If I could run fast enough to get to them. I wasn’t sure it was worth the effort. I looked back.

  00:02:07… 06… 05… 04… 03.

  The bomb timer clicked away. I’d never known seconds to go by that fast. Less than two minutes left. I unbuckled my seat belt and considered going in the back and trying to disarm the detonator timer. It was probably rigged to blow if it was messed with. What difference did it make? The only difference was that the odds were better that the detonator switch was defective. That happened every so often when amateurs tried to put together a bomb. It would be the worst irony if I detonated a defective bomb by trying to disarm it.

  That didn’t mean I was going to sit there and die. I intended to run as hard and fast away from the bomb as I could, hoping upon hope that somehow, I survived the blast. Or the bomb was a dud and didn’t explode.

  I had to do something first, while I still could. “Hey guys,” I said on the radio. “Can you still hear me?”

  “Roger that, mate.”

  “My wife’s name is Jamie Steele. Give her a message for me. Tell her that Alex loves her with all his heart and that I’m sorry things turned out this way.”

  Tears had welled up in my eyes and my voice shook as I said it.

  “Does this mean I can have her since you’ll be out of the picture?” a familiar voice said. Startling me and shaking me out of my pity party.

  Bond.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I came to save you, buddy. But we lost you. Where are you?”

  “I’m in a canyon. North of London. I didn’t make it to the missile site.”

  I still didn’t understand how my radio transmission could travel all the way to London where I assumed he was.

  “Turn on your transponder,” he said.

  I reached over and put it on. The terrorist must’ve disabled that at some point as well. Maybe before I even boarded.

  “Okay! I’ve got you,” Bond said. “We’ll be on the ground in less than a minute. The cavalry has arrived as you Americans would say.”

  “Negative, Bond. The timer is coming up on one minute. You’ll never get out in time.”

  “Get your arse out of that helicopter! I’m picking you up in less than thirty. Don’t make me wait for you. I might not.”

  No man left behind.

  That’s what Curly always said.

  I’d do the same thing if the roles were reversed.

  As much as I couldn’t stand the guy, I’d still risk my life to save his life, if I had to.

  I pushed the door open.

  The distinct drone of the rotor blades neared. I couldn’t see the helicopter, but I could hear it. Suddenly it appeared over the canyon cliffs. Coming in at a high rate of speed.

  “Don’t crash the thing, Bond,” I shouted even though I knew he couldn’t hear me.

  The bird landed hard but intact. The back door flung open.

  I sprinted. Faster than I’d ever run in my life.

  I dove into the back. Sprawling into the back compartment. A sofa was on the right up against a wall that separated the area from the cockpit. Cushy seats were on the left. This was what my helicopter was supposed to look like before the terrorist took everything out and replaced it with a bomb.

  “Go! Go! Go!” I shouted not knowing if they could hear me.

  The pilot lifted the helicopter faster than it was designed to function. Up and to the left. Away from the bomb. The bird hesitated slightly but powered on. Building speed. I wasn’t sure which would be best. Going up as high as possible or trying to get as far away as possible. The pilot chose the latter.

  We were almost skimming across the ground barely above any tree line. Clearly, he wanted to get out of the canyon and behind the mountains.

  Then I heard it.

  A loud explosion. So, loud it even drowned out the noise of the helicopter.

  By this time, I was in one of the seats, fastening myself in for the anticipated bumpy ride. Looking back, I could see the mushroom cloud. Not as big as an atom bomb, but bigger than anything I’d ever seen before.

  Within seconds, the helicopter began to rock back and forth as the wind from the blast reached us. It felt
like we were in a wave pool at a waterpark.

  The pilot held steady and banked hard to the right as we exited the canyon. The air stabilized.

  I put on my headset so I could hear what they were saying in the cockpit.

  “That was too close for comfort,” Bond said.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said.

  “Are you okay?” Bond asked.

  “Never been better,” I said.

  My hands were shaking. My knees were knocking together. Adrenaline was shooting through me and building up like a geyser getting ready to blow. The pounding heartbeat in my ears almost drowned out Bond’s words.

  “I owe you one, Bond,” I said.

  “How did I do on my job interview?” he asked.

  “Not bad,” I said jokingly, flashing a grin that he couldn’t see but he could hear in my voice.

  “Does this mean I’m hired?” he asked.

  “I’m still considering it.”

  35

  Buckingham Palace

  Our helicopter landed in London about thirty minutes after the dirty bomb detonated in Northern England. Jamie stood at the landing area waiting for us. As soon as I exited the helicopter and cleared the rotor blades, she came running at me and jumped into my arms. Smothering me with kisses. Every square inch of my face was the recipient of her affection. My heart warmed at how happy she was to see me. While she didn’t know all the specifics, the situation with the bomb was one of my closest calls with death.

  Bond watched the effusive display with a disgusted look on his face. As he started to walk away, Jamie jumped down out of my arms and ran to him and hugged him. Actually, picked him up off the ground in a bear hug.

  “Thank you for bringing my husband back to me safely,” she said.

  “I did it for you,” he replied.

  I held my hand out to Bond. He reached out and shook it. When our hands gripped, I pulled him toward me and gave him my own aggressive hug.

  “You’re okay in my book, Bond.”

  “Like I said, I did it for Jamie. I couldn’t care less what happens to you.”

  His sly grin told me he was only kidding.

  The British higher ups from MI6 were there to meet us and ushered us inside. To what appeared to be the office side of the Palace. They led us into a conference room, filled with water, food, and a restroom, which I needed to clean up.

  A doctor was also there, who after examining me, gave me a clean bill of health. As a precaution, he gave all of us potassium iodide pills to counteract the potential exposure to radiation. For more than thirty minutes, they questioned me about the bombing, what I knew and when I knew it and the details of what happened on the helicopter with the terrorist. Bond had already been whisked away.

  I learned a lot from the questioning. By that time, the press had been alerted, and the story was all over the news. My part in it wasn’t revealed to protect our cover. Early reports were that the fallout from the bomb was negligible, and the steep walls of the canyon prevented a major environmental catastrophe. No loss of life. Even the mushroom cloud dissipated quickly and didn’t seem to enter the atmosphere or travel beyond the general vicinity of the blast.

  When we were done with the questioning, I called Brad. Everyone else left the room except Jamie so we’d have privacy.

  “You’re just in time,” Brad said. He never answered with a greeting.

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Do you want to see Pok get what’s coming to him?”

  “Yes!” I’d forgotten all about the cruise missile to be fired into Iran.

  Brad put me on speaker and turned his phone so I could see the big screen in the front of what I recognized as the situation room at Langley. In the picture was a large building with few windows but with several large satellite dishes on the top of it. I assumed that was the cyber lab where Pok had been conducting his cyberwarfare.

  “The missile should hit in about ten minutes,” Brad said.

  “Say hi to Jamie,” I said as I hit the speaker button on my phone so she could hear.

  “Hi, Brad.”

  They chit chatted for less than a minute. Mostly about how she was doing with her injuries. When they finished, I proceeded to tell Brad about the day’s events. Most of which he already knew.

  “I’ve told MI6 to keep your name out of it and not to ask too many questions,” Brad said. “The last thing we want is to have your cover blown before you even go on your first AJAX mission.”

  “Sure feels like I already have,” I said.

  The background noise coming over the phone suddenly stopped. Even Brad quit talking as the room became eerily quiet.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered. Not sure why, since I wasn’t in the room.

  “Thirty seconds to impact,” Brad said.

  I brought the phone in closer so I could see better.

  “What’s that car driving away?” I asked.

  On the screen, I could clearly see a vehicle leaving the building and driving off.

  “I don’t know.”

  A fireball erupted. A strange sight considering there was no sound. I’m used to watching movies on a big screen with state-of-the-art surround sound. All we could see from the overhead drone was a large, black plume of smoke with orange balls of fire inside it.

  A cheer erupted in the room as the dust and smoke cleared and the leveled building came into view.

  I wanted to join them in the celebration but didn’t want to make a commotion in the Palace. Instead, Jamie and I high fived a couple times, although, I was careful not to hit her hands too hard, concerned they might still be a little tender from the acid. She didn’t seem as worried about that as I was.

  The building was rubble. Completely demolished. Nothing left of it. That wasn’t my focus. I was searching for the car. The vehicle I’d seen driving away was no longer visible on the screen. A weird feeling came over me. What if that was Pok?

  “We need to take out that car,” I said excitedly.

  “We can’t,” Brad said.

  “Is the drone armed?”

  “Yes.”

  “That car came from the lab,” I argued. We need to take it out. Pok could be in it.”

  “I don’t have the intelligence. Anyone could be in that vehicle.”

  “I have a feeling Pok’s in that car.”

  “We don’t act on your feelings,” Brad said. “It might be a maid and her five-year-old son. Could be a spouse of one of the workers. We’re not blowing up a car without knowing who’s in it.”

  Brad was right. That didn’t make it any easier. Now I’d never know for sure if Pok was dead or not. I’d always be wondering if he escaped. He’d be more dangerous if he were operating in the dark with impunity. Especially if I assumed Pok was dead and quit looking for him. On the other hand, if he were dead, I could waste valuable time and resources searching for a ghost.

  Nothing I could do about it now. More than likely, Pok was in the building and was nothing but ashes now. I’d have to put my worries aside.

  If nothing else, the lab was destroyed, and no one would be tracking us around London. That would have to be satisfaction enough. That meant Jamie and I could start our honeymoon in earnest. As soon as we were done at the Palace. Someone had mentioned giving us a tour which Jamie was especially excited about. She wanted to see the various pieces of art in the Palace dating back centuries.

  Shortly after we signed off with Brad, an official-looking man entered the room. Dressed in a tuxedo and black tie. I suddenly felt underdressed. The man was very British in sophistication and tone. Clearly one of the royal subjects. Do they call them subjects? Servants? I made a mental note to ask someone later. He introduced himself, but I didn’t catch his long title which had at least five words in it. “Of the Queen” was the only thing I heard leading me to believe he worked for her in some official and close capacity.

  Confirmed when he said, “Her Majesty is greatly appreciative of your actions today and wou
ld like to thank you personally.”

  I looked at Jamie and could tell she was fighting back a squeal of delight. I think that meant we were going to get to meet her.

  “It’s not necessary,” I said. Jamie gave me an unapproving glare. “It’s our job. But we would love to meet the Queen,” I added for Jamie’s benefit.

  “We’re not dressed for it, though,” Jamie said. “I can’t meet the Queen looking like this.”

  The royal whatever waved his hand dismissively.

  “Actually, it will not be a personal meeting.”

  “What will it be?” I asked.

  “Mr. Steele, the Queen would like to bestow knighthood on you, for your bravery and courage and contribution to the monarchy.”

  Knighthood. Are you kidding me?

  My jaw would’ve hit the floor if not attached to my head. I didn’t know what to say so I said that.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to accept it,” the man added. “This is an honorary knighthood and is totally voluntary on your part.”

  “Of course, I’ll accept it! I’d be crazy not to. I’m honored. Thank the Queen for me.”

  “You’ll be able to thank her yourself. She’ll be the one bestowing the honor. Actually, it was her idea. This is quite unusual. Normally, these honors are awarded by a committee. And there’s a long process. It takes months for someone to be approved for medals and honors. Of course, Her Majesty has the authority to grant knighthood to anyone she chooses, subject to the traditions of the throne.”

  “I’m proud to accept.”

  “Marvelous. I’ll let the Queen know so the arrangements can be made forthwith. You’ll be made an Honorary Knight Grand Cross of the Most Honorable Order of the Bath.”

  “Try saying that three times in a row,” I said.

  Jamie jabbed me in the ribs.

  “What?” I didn’t know why she was poking me.

  “It’s the highest honor that can be awarded to a foreigner,” he added. “From what I hear, you’re very deserving. We all might be dead if not for you.”

  “He is deserving,” Jamie said. “I’m very proud of him.”