Scion (38 page)

“Sir, who’s on the phone?” asked Scott, concerned by the Prime Minister’s bizarre behaviour.

“A woman with a sniper rifle pointing at me,” he answered.

“Not at you, covering you,” she corrected over the phone.

“Sorry, covering me,” he repeated for them.

Scott and Kirk smiled as they realised what was happening,

“Sir, will you tell Jasmin, to get her arse out of the Life Guards’ tower and get it back over here,” asked Scott.

As Jasmin made her towards them, Scott quickly explained.

“I sent a signal out on a communication channel suggesting a meet here tonight at 23.00. My island has been bombed and everybody killed. Jasmin has been on at us for some time that your security is lax. She promised the next time she was here, she could take you out and get away with it without any hassle. It seems she proved her point and thank God she’s on our side.”

The Prime Minister looked out his window and across to Life Guards Parade, the home of the Queen’s ceremonial guards. The bell tower was clearly visible atop their barracks.

“Have I met Jasmin?” asked the Prime Minister, knowing he hadn’t. In fact, he’d never met a female K Squad member.

“I don’t believe so, Sir. She’s relatively new, only been on the team for a few months. Joined us from MI6. We’ve needed a woman for a while but never had anyone with the skills until Jasmin came along. Exceptional shot Sir. ”

Kyle rushed into the room. “We’re clear, the cavalry’s arrived,” he announced. “The building’s surrounded.”

“OK, before I get swept out of here, who did this?” asked the PM angrily.

“I believe the same men who destroyed my island and I believe the Defence Secretary is working with them. They had to know where I was going before I got there to plan the bombing and I don’t believe you told them.”

The Prime Minister was a very intelligent man and didn’t need to be convinced further. It all made sense.

“The little fuck. I’ll get him picked up straight away!” the PM turned to the phone.

“No Sir, we’ll deal with him.” Scott placed his hand on the PM’s arm stopping him.

“I can’t sanction him, it’s not possible,” protested the PM.

“Nor needed. This is personal,” replied Scott.

Chapter 69

They’d moved three times in the last eight hours but still they didn’t feel safe. Streets that had not seen a police cruiser for years were littered with them. Crime in Anacostia for the first time in fifty years was down to almost nothing. If you so much as looked the wrong way, a cop was by your side and harassing you. The crackdown had been announced just a few hours earlier. The Chief of Police had called an unscheduled press conference and announced his plans. He had had enough of the crime ridden Anacostia. All leave was cancelled and the police would be taking the streets back with immediate effect.

His announcement was met with stunned silence and then a round of applause. For a long time people had been asking for this to happen but there was never the money, resource or whatever other excuse they could come up with. Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, every objection had been waved and a stream of police cruisers and riot teams entered the area; a mere ten minutes after the Chief’s announcement, unheard of.

Questions rained down thereafter. Where were the funds coming from? What other services were going to be cut? Anger started to build as the reporters began to consider the implications of a huge resource being spent on those who contributed least. Were the hard working tax payers going to suffer because of the idle and lazy scum that inhabited the worst areas of Anacostia? As the questions flooded in, the Chief raised his hands to silence the mob. He had one more announcement to make.

“I received a call earlier today from presidential candidate Dan Baker. Mr Baker had recently driven through Anacostia and had been shocked by the deprivation just a stone’s throw from The White House. He had asked what he could do to help and I told him it’s nothing money can’t fix. Mr Baker phoned me back an hour later. His fund raising dinner was an enormous success and he felt it was wrong, with everything that was going on, to just flush the money down the advertisers’ toilet. He got into politics to do the right thing. Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Baker is funding the additional resource, straight from his campaign fund. No services will suffer in Washington as a result of this clean up, none!”

The press went wild, rushing to the phones and news companies jumped to live feeds, interrupting news stories to break the news.
Dan Baker was cleaning up Washington and he wasn’t even elected yet.

Ernst was delighted, not only had they secured maximum police effort in helping find Ramirez but the publicity
Dan would get from funding the operation would be ten fold what he would have achieved on a few shitty adverts that would have cost the same. Baker’s call to the Chief had been carefully planned by Ernst. Calling just before he arrived and then just after he left with the offer to fund a high profile crackdown. Of course that was only part of what had swung it for the Chief, the million dollar bonus for finding Ramirez had been the clincher.

***

After watching the Chief’s press conference, Vic knew they were dead. It wasn’t if but when they found them. Dan Baker was letting them know personally how much Ramirez being caught meant to him. Vic Garcia looked at the three bodyguards, five was a big number to hide. He had been hunted many times before and had always made it but this time the stakes were much higher than a rival gang. The Ramirez family had given Vic a home when no one else would touch him and the dying wish of Eduardo was that he would protect his nephew. Vic was a man of honour and would die defending the young man but to do that he’d have to take whatever action was necessary. He turned to the bodyguards and told them to wait there. Vic got up and taking the now reclothed Eduardo by the shoulder led him out of the room. Vic closed the door and the two left their third hideaway behind. Five had become two, which had just made Mr Baker’s job all the harder.

Chapter 70

The news of the island’s devastation was not well received by Jasmin. However, as with everyone else, the grief was soon replaced with a burning anger and a thirst for revenge. The information that there were a number of targets somewhat appeased her; at least she’d get the opportunity to claim one for herself.

As Scott laid out the plan for Russell and Cunningham in a basement room of Number Ten, his phone rang. It was 00.30.

“Scott?” asked Ashley.

“Yes.”

“Thank God you’re OK,” said Ashley, relieved to hear his voice. “I’ve just seen the news about the attack, I can’t believe they tried to kill the Prime Minister.”

Scott could see the three sets of eyes watching him quizzically, all had heard the female voice and it hadn’t taken long for Kyle and Kirk to put two and two together and come up with five.

“Is that the really hot bird we pulled off the plane?” asked Kyle.

Scott nodded and began to take on a slightly rosier complexion.

“I’m fine,” Scott found it difficult to concentrate as his team mates described Ashley to Jasmin right in front of him.

“Can you not talk?” Ashley sensed something was wrong.

“Not really, can I call you back?”

“Yes but just one thing, I’ve tried everything, I can’t get any link between Ramirez and Transcon.”

“OK, I’ll call you back.” Scott hung up and stared angrily at the other three.

“Have we forgotten why we’re here?” he snapped.

Kirk turned to Kyle and Jasmin and whispered loudly. “Definitely loved up!” all three smiled and apologised. The humour break was over and it was back to business.

“Kirk, Kyle, you stake out Russell’s place while we take care of Cunningham.”

***

Kirk and Kyle surveyed the mansion and its security as they arrived at the Regent’s Park home of Charles Russell. He obviously took his security seriously. The men patrolling the grounds were exceptionally well trained and although looked unarmed, to the trained eye the way they walked and the clothing they wore suggested they carried sidearms. Two men manned the front gate while another four patrolled the grounds and that didn’t include any that may be watching the multitude of security cameras which seemed to cover every square inch of the property.

“Well?” asked Kirk as they met up again after their scouting.

“Piece of cake!” replied Kyle.

***

In contrast, the home of George Cunningham Secretary of state for Defence, one of the UK Government’s more senior posts lay relatively unprotected. With a list of enemies that included the world’s more radical and high profile terrorist groups, Cunningham appeared to have no more than a high profile police car parked across the street from his home in very exclusive Belgravia. Scott shook his head, surely a home worth five million dollars would have rung a few alarm bells within the House Select Committee for Standards and Privileges, the body responsible for ensuring all members of parliament declared their financial interests.

Scott and Jasmin didn’t bother worrying about the guards out front and simply entered the house from the unprotected rear. Jasmin made light work of the security sensors while Scott picked the lock. Within seconds, they were in the house and creeping silently through the darkened rooms in search of Cunningham. A phone ringing shattered the silence. Scott checked his watch, 03.00. A light came on, on the floor above them and was followed by heavy footsteps rushing across the floor and then down towards them. Scott had just stepped out of the study and assumed that’s where the heavy feet were heading. He hid in the shadows and signalled for Jasmin to step back into the lounge.

Cunningham, as Scott predicted, rushed past and grabbed the ringing phone in the study. It had taken all Scott’s powers of restraint to stop himself from snapping the little fucker’s neck there and then. Scott pressed his ear to the door.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened!” he protested.

After a short silence.

“I can’t, he’s not accepting my calls.”

Short silence.

“No, he can’t have guessed I was involved. He’s probably asleep that’s all.”

Silence.

“Look, you planned the thing. This is your fuck up!” Scott heard the phone slam down. It was his cue. He opened the door and slid quietly inside. With his back to the door, Cunningham hadn’t even realised until he turned round to go back to bed. The sight of Scott, the UK’s secret assassin, an assassin he had helped to kill, standing in front of him instantly made his heart race and knees go weak. The feeling of dread began to rise from the pit of his stomach.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” suggested Scott menacingly.

Cunningham recovered quickly. “No, not at all in fact. I didn’t recognise you until just now. Sorry I don’t often get intruders sneaking up behind me.”

Scott shook his head. “This can go two ways, painful or quick. Trust me, you really do want quick.” Scott’s pupil’s flared, a little trick he had learned that instantly unnerved people. His stare had gone from intense to insane.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Cunningham in his most arrogant and condescending tone, just as though he were shouting down a heckler in parliament.

Scott spun round, threw out his trailing leg and caught Cunningham perfectly on the nose, breaking it cleanly.

“Who?”

“Who what?” replied Cunningham, struggling to his feet.

Scott snapped out his foot and broke the arm Cunningham was using to push himself up, sending him crashing to the floor.

“You’ve not got it yet? I am going to kill you. I can make it quick which, thanks to you, was how most of my family and friends died or I can make it painful and punish you. The choice is yours.”

Cunningham didn’t hesitate and told Scott everything he knew which wasn’t much more than Scott knew already. Although one surprise was the involvement of the US Secretary of Defence. The Unit and its existence was another, as was the name of its commander Mike Hunter. With two additional men on the hit list, Scott turned to the now trembling Cunningham.

“Anything else?”

A shake of the head sent a spray of blood from the broken nose across the cream carpet.

“Positive?”

“Yes!” confirmed Cunningham, praying that Scott’s earlier threat was just that. He had told him everything knew and was hoping Scott would show some mercy.

Scott couldn’t stand to be in the room with Cunningham a second longer. Every time he looked at him he just wanted to smash his face into a pulp. However, that would be too quick. Cunningham, despite Scott’s earlier promise, would not die quickly.

Scott moved towards Cunningham and without another word delivered a crippling kick to his midriff. Cunningham was bent over double and desperately gasped for air, the pain was intense but bearable. Scott turned and left the room and with Jasmin at his side went back out the way they came.

Grabbing his stomach with his one good arm and struggling for breath, Cunningham hit his panic button and as he waited for his knights in shining armour to come to his aid, dialled Hunter back.

The pain started to get more intense as he waited for Hunter to answer. Eventually after the eighth ring he picked up.

“Hunter,” he answered.

“It’s Cunningham…” his speech struggled as he gasped for breaths. “We missed him, he got off the island…”

“What island? Who?”

“The target…he made it,” Cunningham dropped the phone and bent over as a wave of pain passed through his intestines.

***

“You didn’t kill him?” said Jasmin angrily as Scott explained what had happened before turning and walking back towards the house that was now bathed in light and had a number of blue lights flashing around it.

“Where the hell are you going?” he asked grabbing her arm.

“To kill that son of a bitch!”

“I said he wasn’t dead, I didn’t say I didn’t kill him!”

“What?”

“I killed him slowly. He thinks I didn’t kill him but all I wanted was to make sure he phones and warns them I’m coming.”

“What the hell for?” shouted Jasmin stopping in her tracks.

“I want them to panic at every sound they hear and flinch at every sudden movement. I want them to shit themselves from now until we end their miserable fucking lives!”

“I can live with that,” smiled Jasmin. “And him?”

“He’s a bleeder, massive internal bleeding that even if they caught now would be too much to fix, he’s dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Chapter 71

Within seconds of Cunningham’s call, the phone lines between The Unit, Transcon and Intelligence Agencies across the globe lit up. The level of security at each of the Transcon bosses was raised with their security detail instantly tripled and supplemented by the addition of heavily armed tactical response teams stationed nearby on 24 hour readiness.

Hunter’s call to Ernst had spoiled what had already been a day of ups and downs. The success of Ernst’s idea over the funding of the police crackdown had been a master stroke. Initial polls suggested a four point spike in Baker’s already impressive approval ratings but this was marred by the killing of Hughes which Ernst had ordered. Although had Baker not been so fucking stupid and told him about the call, that wouldn’t have happened. The news that the target was alive and well and on the warpath did not go down well and it was with some trepidation that Ernst picked the phone up to tell Baker.

“JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST!!” he screamed on hearing the news. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!!!”

“I’m afraid not,” replied Ernst.

“What are we doing?”

“Everything we can, all agencies under our control are working on it as a priority.”

“What about the girl, did she survive?”

Ernst hadn’t even thought about her, but thought quickly enough on his feet to cover it off. “We don’t know but we’re looking for her as well,” he’d have to phone Hunter the second he got off the phone to make sure she was added to the search.

Baker caught his anger and realised he needed to emphasise the danger Scott posed.

“Ernst, I can’t tell you how important it is we find him and kill him. Eduardo Ramirez pales into insignificance compared to what this guy can do to us! We must find him and find him soon, time really is of the essence. He can take everything from us, everything.”

With Baker’s words ringing in his ears, Ernst phoned Hunter back and asked him if they had any leads on the girl. More honest than Ernst, he admitted he hadn’t thought about her. Ernst went ballistic and told him to pull his finger out of his ass and do what he was exceedingly well paid to do, before slamming the phone down. A bit of anger motivation never hurt in a manhunt he thought.

The surprise death of Cunningham shocked the Transcon bosses. The stories of the UK Defence Secretary’s last few hours filled the news headlines. The details of the excruciating pain all too relevant for each of them, a clear message to each of them from Scott, a professional killer was on their trail and it was personal.

The security at each of their homes was increased further and all high profile engagements cancelled.

Chapter 72

Kirk and Kyle had watched from their hideaway as the fleet of Range Rovers rushed through the gates and deposited their cargo of men throughout the property. The floodlights were switched on and the grounds blazed in a bright light more akin to a mid summer’s day than 04.00. in the morning.

“Hmm little bit harder now!” exclaimed Kirk.

“Just a bit,” agreed Kyle.

“Just a bit what?” asked Scott, startling the twins.

“Jesus, I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“What?

“Sneak up so fucking well.”

“So where are we?” asked Jasmin joining the group.

“I think someone tipped them off that we we’re coming?” explained Kirk. “The place just filled up and lit up.”

“Yep, it was me!”

“What the fuck did you do that for?”

“He wants them to shit themselves before we kill them,” explained Jasmin.

Both the twins shrugged. “Fair enough,” they said in stereo.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Wait until sunrise and hit hard,” replied Scott patting the kit bags they had brought from the flat in Bayswater.

Chapter 73

Charles Russell was a very worried man. The news of Cunningham’s demise shortly after the failed attempt on the PM and the resurrection of Kennedy’s son from the grave was a fucking disastrous scenario. When you added the fact that Kennedy’s son just happened to be a prolific assassin who was a secret employee of the PM who they had just failed to kill made the worst even worse. It was highly likely that Charles Russell was at the top of the list of one of the world’s most accomplished assassins who had just wiped out their team of highly paid and accomplished assassins.