To Kill Or Be Killed (42 page)

“Mr Chapman is
awake miss.” A nurse stood by her and leant in to speak
quietly.

Sonita had been
day dreaming and was for a moment flustered. She’d been excited by
the CCTV footage of the last three days. She’d watched David McKie
at the bus station and all the other action that had been captured,
isolated and put together as a digital file for use in the
building. She was wondering what it was like to hold the pistol,
pull the trigger. She pushed away her thoughts and went into the
room.

Don had a
bandage over his head and was looking around the room.

“Who are you?”
He croaked. “Not the press?”

“No.”

“Shame.”

“I expect
you’ll get the papers here yet. I’m civil service.”

“Civil
service?”

“Yes.” She
winked.

“You look a bit
young.”

“I’m the office
junior, sent to do one job, ask one question.” She smiled.

“Well ask away
pretty, but you only get the answer if I get a kiss.”

“You’re a well
man, I can tell, but can you remember where the guy with the gun
who got into your taxi was going.”

“Yes I can
because when he pulled the gun and started shooting I thought ‘oh
no I hope they stop him’.”

“Where were you
talking him?”

Don told
her

“Are you sure?”
Sonita’s eye brows nearly touched her hair line.

“You don’t
forget that in a hurry.”

To his surprise
and delight Sonita kissed him on the lips.

“Thank you,
Thank you.” She ran from the room for the nearest hospital exit and
once outside switched on her satellite phone.

CHAPTER
100

Euston Tower London

4-15 p.m.

April 19th

Jack Fulton
burst into the Liam and David’s office.

“The target was
Downing Street. I’ve called and they’re on alert. I’ve told the
Prime Minister that I’m sending operatives to number ten. You two
are to go, now. Check weapons and be ready.”

“You think
Stanton’s going to get in there?” David thought it very
unlikely.

“I’ve no idea,
but he must have plan and a way in. Now get going. Take a laptop
and satellite phone, keep in contact.”

They left the
room. The pool car had been left waiting at the front of the
building for them. It was a grey Citroën C4.

Jack went back
to his office and called the PM to tell him that his men were on
their way. He put out an alert for CCTV in the Westminster area to
be scoured by every watcher; orders given to drop everything else.
Jack made a personal call to Bill, the Westminster DIC operative,
but there was no reply.

On Lord North
Street Bill was conscious and heard his phone ringing, but couldn’t
answer it.

At the gate to
Downing Street the old man with glasses and thinning grey hair,
brown mackintosh carrying a laptop bag, Sig 220 ‘rail’ in a
shoulder holster noted the heightened security.

“Bill Hutchings
DIC.” He showed the DIC pass.

“We’ve been
expecting you.” Stanton kept calm, but inside he was grinning like
a crocodile in an abattoir. This meant that DIC knew the target,
but it also meant they had cleared the way for him, he knew he
didn’t have long, but he was used to this kind of pressure.

The policeman’s
radio crackled as he opened the gate.

“Where’s the
other one there’s supposed to be two of you?” He suddenly
asked.

“He’s circling
the streets, ready for a sighting.” Stanton replied casually,
sensing that the DIC units knew he was around and why. It seemed
plausible. The line did its work. Stanton passed through the gate
and was stopped by a second armed policeman.

“Can I check
the bag please?”

“Sure. It’s my
laptop and sat phone. Need to follow the updates.”

The policeman
looked in the bag. There was a laptop and a satellite phone.

“Okay you can
go in, but you need to hand over your weapon.”

Stanton pulled
it from the holster.

“No need for
that in there eh?” Stanton said

“Safe as houses
Mr Hutchings.”

“I don’t think
we’ll mention house prices in front of Mr Braine eh?”

The Policeman
laughed.

Stanton walked
up the street steadily and got to the door of number ten. The
paperwork in the envelope had clearly said which room for that time
of day. The Prime Minister was a man of habit. In this case it
would be the small dining room.

Stanton got to
the glossy black door with the armed policeman in front it. He was
let in. He passed the porter’s chair, as shiny and black as the
door and he took in the clock and Wellington’s travelling
chest.

He was greeted
by the Downing Street security chief.

“You from the
DIC unit?”

“Yes. Bill
Hutchings.”

“Well I don’t
know how you can help. I’m not really sure about you chaps, but the
PM said he wanted some of you here. There’s only you?”

“Yes, my
partner’s doing a drive around, ready for action. Can I just set up
in a room somewhere?”

“The PM will be
in the small dining room shortly, if you go in there he’ll see you
and you can update him.”

“Oh that’s
brilliant! I need to log on and get an update, there may be
news.”

Stanton made
his way to the room. There was the strange feature of a fire place
under the window. Stanton looked around for a place to put the
bomb. There were unlit logs in the fireplace. He quickly opened the
bag. Pulled out the laptop and opened it.

He had hollowed
out the laptop with a knife creating a space for the ten centimetre
long paper covered tubes containing, he assumed, plastic explosives
attached to small detonator with a digital display which had a push
button. The instructions were clear. The bomb was pre timed for ten
minutes. Plant it and get out were the instructions. He closed the
laptop and put it back in the bag, then got the satellite phone
out.

He heard
voices. He slid the bomb under the grate with the unlit logs and
straightened up as the Prime Minister and his security chief came
into the room. Stanton quickly flipped open the stolen DIC Sat
phone, closing the laptop as they entered.

“Yes… yes …
okay … no .. I’ll be there straight away.” Stanton acted out the
end of the phone call. The Prime Minister unused to waiting looked
impatiently at him.

Stanton closed
the phone.

“I’m sorry sir
I apologise. My Partner’s on an unconfirmed sighting on Lord North
Street. I’ve got to get to him. Jack Fulton’s orders we’re to go in
pairs at the moment.”

“That’s fine.
Things are secure here.” The security chief spoke with slight
anger. It all seemed like a waste of time.

“You’re rather
old for duty rota aren’t you?” Mr Braine asked, knowing the DIC
rules.

“I work around
here, my patch. I know the faces. There are more men on the
way.”

He grabbed the
laptop bag.

“Well thank you
anyway er …?” Mr Braine left the space for the name to be
proffered.

“Bill Hutchings
Mr Braine.”

“Right
Bill.”

Stanton made
his way out and the Prime Minister sat down as his afternoon tea
was brought in. Stanton got to the gate, was handed his pistol and
was on his way to Parliament Square with little trouble. He pulled
out the green coloured ‘disposable’ Bic cell and pressed dial when
the one number in the phone memory came up.

Traffic had
held up the Citroen C4 with McKie and Kershaw in. In spite of
Liam’s best efforts it took them what felt to be an age to get
there. They got to the end of Downing Street and jumped out holding
badges in front of them. In spite of the badges four MP5’s were
levelly held in their direction.

“McKie and
Kershaw, DIC, we’re expected.”

“Your man’s
just been here, name of Hutchings, Bill Hutchings.”

“Bill
Hutchings.” Liam and David looked at each other. Liam pulled out
his satellite phone and called Jack. David spoke to the
policeman.

“We were the
only two sent.”

“He had a
badge, laptop bag like yours, went in came out left and collected
his weapon, said he’d had an ID on a suspect had to get to his
partner…”

Liam
interrupted.

“Jack says Bill
Hutchings is the Westminster DIC, sixty years old, wouldn’t be
sent…and he’s tried to phone him with no contact”

The policeman
got on his radio and called security in ten Downing Street. David
stood by the half open gate. Liam got his laptop out. He held it on
his arm, plugged the satellite phone in and ran his finger rapidly
over the mouse pad.

“This isn’t
right.” David protested.

“You’ll have to
wait sir.” The policeman replied implacable and annoyingly
calm.

“Where is the
PM?” David asked, becoming exasperated.

“I couldn’t say
sir.”

Liam held the
laptop up to the police man.

“Is this the
guy you saw?”

“Well yes and
no, it looks like him but the other man was bulkier, stronger
looking… Stop where you are!”

David pushed
his way through the gate and ran. The police man raised his
MP5.

“For god’s sake
get the PM out, it must be a bomb!” McKie shouted.

“Don’t shoot
him we’re government security I’m telling you we sent no-one else,
the man who came through was an imposter, it must have been
Stanton.” Liam shouted.

The policeman
looked at his colleague. The policeman held his MP5 on David’s
receding back, the other held his aimed at Liam’s chest. David had
made it to the glossy black door. The policeman there had drawn and
was aiming his pistol at McKie. David stopped.

There was a
crackle of radios and the weapons dropped. Liam’s phone rang. It
was Jack, he’d cleared a path. David burst through the famous door
and onto the checked black and white floor. The security chief was
waiting for him.

“You
McKie?”

“Yes. Where’s
the PM?”

“The small
dining room as always at this time of….”

David bounded
into the room. The Prime Minister looked up startled.

“You need to
leave now sir.”

McKie grabbed
him, and manhandled him towards the door. They got to the door of
the small dining room and there was a sharp bang and a flash of
white, McKie pushed the PM to the floor half way through the door
way, covering him with his body, as an orange ball of smoke
enveloped them.

CHAPTER
101

EUSTON TOWER

LONDON

4-30 p.m.

April 19th

Jack sat in his
office looking at CCTV images on his laptop, stunned at the sight
of smoke billowing from the window above the fireplace in the small
dining room of ten Downing Street. There were fire engines and
ambulances on the scene. It was a manic gaggle of activity and
uniforms. He sat wide eyed looking at the scene; a scene he knew
would be on the news within minutes.

Jennie
Millington, the head of the audio unit in the technical department
walked into the office. She put a laptop on the opposite side of
the desk to Jack. She fiddled with it and looked up ready.

“You’re going
to be really happy with this Jack…” She became silent and turned
the sound up. Jack was drawn away from the drama on his screen by
the sound of Sternway’s voice.

“You’re a
lovely lady Mrs Robinson and people like you do scare me a little,
but you tell Tarquin that it will happen in the next hour, as
arranged, and if he doesn’t show some backbone he’ll regret
it.“

“… It’s not
even fuzzy we’ve been using this new programme we got from the
CIA…what?” Jennie became aware of the look on Jack’s face. “Oh yeah
shocking right he practically threatens to kill the home
secretary…”

Jack looked at
Jennie. This was his department, made up of enthusiasts like
Jennie. He looked at her, wispy untidy blonde hair, held back by a
mass of hair clips, blue jeans, trainers and GAP T- Shirt. She had
lean, neat and fashionable black spectacles. They were his
department, The Department for Internal Concerns, and they’d
failed. The biggest concern, the ultimate terrorist prize had been
won.

“Jack?”

The phone rang.
Jack’s brow furrowed, quizzical and then a slight smile and sigh of
relief.

“A smoke bomb?
Just a smoke bomb?” He almost shouted with joy.

He picked up a
remote and flicked on a TV.

“… orange smoke
billowing from ten downing street. There was some sort of small
explosion, but apparently the Prime Minister is fine. Whether this
was some sort of demonstration or not we …”

It was Jennie’s
turn to look shocked. Jack Fulton switched off the TV.

Play that again
Jennie please.”

“What?” Jennie
looked from the blank screen to Jack. ”What’s going on?”

“I have no
idea, but I am sure we’ll work it out. Play me that file
again.”

Jennie played
the file occasionally glancing at the blank TV screen as if she
were unsure as to what she had seen.

“You’re a
lovely lady Mrs Robinson and people like you do scare me a little,
but you tell Tarquin that it will happen in the next hour, as
arranged, and if he doesn’t show some backbone he’ll regret
it.“

Jack grabbed
Jennie and spun her around.

“Well done. New
programme from CIA did you say? Brilliant!”

“Yes, you just
isolate the….” Jack held his hand up.

“Save it for
later just give a copy of that file please.”

Chapter
102

Westminster London

4-30 p.m.

April 19th

The black Honda
had been parked nearby and it was there in minutes. Stanton stood
by the back of the car as door opened for him on the stroke of half
four. He looked back towards Downing Street expecting a huge
explosion, but there wasn’t one. He stood still by the open door of
the car looking.