To Kill Or Be Killed (44 page)

Telford lit a
cigarette, but all of them heard the door downstairs open and close
and Telford dropped the cigarette and ground it into the mouldy
green carpet.

There was a
footfall on the stairs, the door opened and a fourth man stood in
the room. He was out of place in the dirty, dusty, dilapidated old
bare room. He had highly polished black brogues, a neat dark blue
three piece pin stripe and oiled, thinning black hair. There was a
red silk handkerchief poking in a shiny peak from his top
pocket.

“Hello Trevor.”
The voice was clear and crisp, neat and slicing in its enunciation.
“You don’t mind if I call you Trevor do you?”

Stanton looked
into the cold ‘telescopic eyes’. Sternway continued.

“I feel I know
you so well from your file. I’m very pleased with your work.”

“I’d hate to
see the way you treat those who fail you.”

“Cobb and Mason
failed me. You can take them as an average example.”

Stanton knew it
all long. He made a vow. If he got free, if he had his chance he
was going to kill this man. Sternway saw it in his eyes.

“Proceed Joe
and make it painful to start, no use wasting time.”

The electric
shocks were powerful and with the pads over two of his Chakra
points, or nerve centres, the pain was immense, surging through him
almost blotting out all thought.

There were
three such shocking surges and Stanton sat writhing in the chair
for half a minute before he felt the pain die down.

“Now about DIC
and all you know please or there’ll be more of that.”

“What do you
want with DIC?”

“They’re an
inconvenience. They came close when your friend Spencer did a
little job for me and they cause no end of trouble. Only the PM,
Home Office Minister and the Queen, oh and some of the royal
family, know who the head person is. We know about their existence,
but we don’t know where they are and how much coverage they’ve got,
which is pretty damned annoying when you’re trying to change things
in your own favour through underhanded means, which you can imagine
is what I do. Your friend Spencer, who used to work for me, was
nearly caught by them when we did for Robert Cole. Right now we’re
trying, with the help of a certain Mr Robinson, Cole’s replacement,
no coincidence, to get rid of them for good. Then we’ll be free of
their meddling influences and sticking their ‘tuppence’ in every
time we want to make a change.”

“I see, if
that’s all why didn’t you say? Let me go and I’ll tell you
everything I found out.” Sternway smiled a crocodile smile.

“That’s what I
love about mercenaries Joe so easy to get round to your way of
thinking. Yes we’ll let you go; in fact well we’ll help you go. I
don’t want you getting caught.”

Stanton gave
them details about the building, what he’d seen on the computer.
Telford drew a sketch from Stanton’s description of the lobby.
Stanton had seen names for floors on the disk and assumed the boss,
Fulton, was on the top floor. He told them about the cameras in the
building.

He made up fake
facts about security from having seen the foyer and finally told
them about how he’d got the badge and what was in the loft in Dover
and Bill’s house in Westminster. When he was finished Sternway
smiled.

“Well done
Trevor you know you really are quite the most dangerous man I’ve
ever met and…” He was interrupted by a phone ringing. Sternway took
the orange coloured Bic cell phone from his inside jacket pocket.
“Yes. We’re just about ready… within the next hour.”

He rang off and
put the phone in his jacket again. He suddenly patted his left
jacket pocket and looked at Stanton.

“The green Bic
cell phone?”

“Coat.” Stanton
nodded with his head in the direction of the table.

Telford emptied
the pockets. There was the lime green cell phone and a DIC pass. He
picked up the pass and shoulder holster with the Sig 220.

“Well goodbye
Trevor. I’m sure we won’t meet again.”

Sternway left
the room, Joe and Brook followed and Telford left after checking
the ropes on Stanton.

Downstairs
Sternway gave his instructions to Telford who left on what was to
be a tricky mission. Sternway told Joe and Brook what to do and
left for home.

Upstairs
Stanton knew he was going to be killed. They were down stairs
arranging it, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could
hear the voices. He wiggled the chair, it was quite old. His hands
were tied to the upright struts and his legs to the legs of the
chair. Stanton bunched his muscles and tightened them. He balanced
the chair on the two back legs, tipping the chair back and bounced
slightly, but heavily, trying to avoid noise. There was a sharp
crack from the two back legs. They must have heard because the
front door opened and closed and there were hurried feet on the
stairs.

With the legs
bent inwards at the back Stanton bounced and sat on the chair
heavily. The back legs gave way and the front legs snapped as he
sat down. Stanton quickly stood up legs free, even if the front
chair legs were still tied to his shins. He ran backwards, using
his toes to counteract the low level of his trousers, at the closed
door with all his might, bracing himself for the pain on his arms.
Just as Brook and Joe arrived at the door and pushed it Stanton hit
it and the chair back broke away from the seat and at the same time
preventing the men from entering. Stanton wiggled free from the
back of the chair, braced against the door. With his hands free
instinct kicked in and he stepped to one side as three shots
perforated the door panels where he had been standing.

Brook kicked
the door in and stepped into the room. Stanton was behind the door
and kicked it into Brook, stepped around grabbed Brook’s gun hand,
extended into the room, slammed his hand into Brook’s elbow crook,
grabbing the gun hand and pushing the revolver under Brook’s chin.
Stanton got his finger to the trigger. A single shot slammed up
through Brook’s chin, passed through his skull and embedded in the
ceiling. Stanton wrenched the pistol from Brook’s grip.

Joe had left
his gun in the black Jaguar under the seat. He ran down the stairs
to the front door, but a single shot from Stanton at the top of the
stairs hit him in the small of the back paralysing him and he
slumped into the door, no power in his legs.

Stanton did up
his trousers. He carried Joe into the room upstairs in a fireman’s
lift and dropped him on the floor. Brook was on his knees groaning
and twitching, alive but half brain dead. Stanton walked over and
shot him point blank in the chest with the last chamber of the
revolver. Brook collapsed, twitching; falling in front of Joe’s
terrified eyes.

Stanton
stripped Joe’s jacket and shirt off and put them on. They were a
tight fit, but better than his split T Shirt. Stanton gathered up
the electrical equipment and sat down next to Joe.

“You’re going
to give me a lot of useful information. I’ve got all night. We
won’t bother with anything below the waist, but if you tell me what
I want to know I swear I’ll leave you alive.” He tapped Joe’s head
with his forefinger. “Let’s see what in that head of your shall
we.”

He attached the
pads.

Joe fought as
hard as he could, but knowing he was paralysed weakened his
resolve. He took half an hour to break down with the pain and when
he did Stanton had all the information he needed.

As promised he
left Joe alive, but he didn’t call an ambulance and he didn’t
intend to. It was seven in the evening when Stanton left the house
with a loaded revolver, a silenced nine millimetre Browning and the
keys to a Nissan Micra, which he quickly found.

CHAPTER
106

LONDON EUSTON TOWER

7-10 p.m.

April 19th

Ellie leaned
into the proffered kiss from Tony. They were in the shared kitchens
of the duty teams in Euston Tower. Ellie decided that on their last
day of duty rota she would cook Tony dinner. There was a casserole
dish in the oven and the smell of Coq Au Vin permeated the
room.

Tony broke away
from the tender and soft kiss first.

“That was nice.
Do that again.”

Ellie kissed
him again, longer this time and more passionately. There was a
cough from the doorway. They broke from their embrace suddenly. It
was Jack Fulton.

“Sorry to
bother you two. I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“Yes boss.”

“Liam was in
the duty office and David was talking angrily about Sternway. Liam
thought nothing of it, but David went to get a cup of tea and
decryption called to tell David that his five minute access to the
MI6 network was ready. Liam said he went to get some dinner and
when he came back David was looking at details on Sternway. Then
David grabbed his coat and left. Liam said he was still armed”

Tony and Ellie
showed their concern.

“Any idea where
he is?” Tony asked.

“That’s the
thing our DIC listener at Sternway’s house has just phoned to say
that David McKie is parked in a car across the road from Sternway’s
house.”

Ellie put her
hand to her mouth in shock.

“I think he’s
very worked up. I want you two to go and talk him round. You and he
get on well Ellie and Tony has experience in talking people ‘down’
if you know what I mean.” They both nodded.

“Do we go
armed?”

“No. DIC
diplomatic and armed status has been suspended indefinitely.”

Tony and Jaz
left in a hurry. Jack noted the smell of casserole and promised
himself he’d keep an eye on it. He leant against the kitchen side.
He was worried. ‘Unstoppable’ that’s what the Lympstone Commando
base trainers had said about David McKie.

In the car
Ellie frowned at Tony who pulled his pistol and holster from a
Tesco bag. He checked it and armed it. They sped away with Ellie
half jokingly calling Tony a ‘thrill seeker’ and a ‘renegade’.

CHAPTER
107

Nigel Sternway’s
House

Hampstead

London

7-30 p.m.

April 19th

David finally
made up his mind. He checked his pistol and stepped out of the car.
The lights were on downstairs and they made red glow around the
edges of the deep red velvet curtains in Sternway’s living room.
Della was upstairs with the two children, reading them stories.

The DIC
operative in the bushes had been told to report if David made a
move, but he was slumped unconscious, hidden by the thick foliage
of Sternway’s neighbour’s bushy border. At the back of the house a
figure scaled the drain pipe heading for the small open window of
an upstairs toilet.

At the front
David rang the bell.

Sternway rose
from his comfortable chair in the lounge, put the paper down and
padded to the front door in his slippers.

“Yes?” McKie
wasn’t familiar to him.

David pulled
out his Sig and pointed it at Sternway.

“In!” McKie
barked.

Sternway did as
he was told backing down the hall, leaving the front door open.
David pushed him into the lounge and into a chair.

“Who are you?”
Sternway demanded.

“David McKie
DIC.”

Sternway smiled
thinly.

David assumed
that the listener in the garden was ready and waiting, he wanted a
confession and some answers from Sternway. He also wanted to know
who had been behind all of the deaths.

“Oh you’re
McKie. DIC diplomatic and arms bearing rights are suspended so
you’re breaking the law. Or are you going to kill me?”

“You’re
responsible, through your twisted plotting, for the deaths of
innocent people. I want to know why you brought those killers into
the country.”

“Killers come
and go. I believe you’re a killer yourself now, or doesn’t killing
people like Wheeler count. Just because you have a badge and he
doesn’t that makes you the good guy does it? I have a government
remit, that’s my badge. Men like Wheeler, Stanton and you are all
the same. Hired killers, government trained, whichever side of the
trenches you’re on and you kill on orders or as part of the process
of doing your job. There are no black and white hats for people to
wear McKie. All the hats are shades of grey. You became a
government paid killer just like Stanton when you shot
Wheeler.”

“You can’t
compare us. I don’t kill for no reason and unlike you and the
people who work for you I protect the innocent and wouldn’t kill on
orders if I thought it was wrong. You’re to blame for all this
admit it.”

“I don’t know
what you mean old boy as far as I….”Sternway’s face was suddenly a
mask of horror.

Behind David
entering the room were his children, his wife behind them, pale and
frightened and to his ultimate horror Trevor Stanton holding two
weapons. One, MI6 snub nose revolver was pointed at his wife and
children and the silenced Browning was pointed at Sternway. McKie
spun around and pointed his pistol at Stanton.

Stanton shoved
Della and the children towards Sternway, but he pushed them to his
left away from him, instinctively protecting them by separating
them from him in Stanton’s eyes.

Stanton
suddenly pointed the revolver at McKie and kept the Browning
pointed at Sternway.

“Hello McKie we
must stop meeting like this.”

“Drop it
Stanton. Don’t shoot him.”

“Come on McKie
you want him dead as much as me. I heard what he said. The man’s a
slug, an evil slug. The cold blooded bastard had me tortured.” He
turned to Sternway. "Joe might still be alive, but he’s crippled
and he talked. Brook’s dead. You picked the wrong man to play your
game with Sternway.”

“I don’t know
what you mean.”

The shot
slammed into the wall by Della’s head, the movement of the Browning
from Sternway to Della and back was swift. David held fire when he
saw that no-one was shot. He held himself calmly.