True Conviction (21 page)

“True. But this next part in particular will suck more than the rest.”

“I can barely contain my excitement...”

“From here, you need to head to your right. On the left in front of you, you should see a wine cellar entrance. You got it?”

I look over and see the alcove, maybe a third of the way along the side of the house. In the middle of the alcove is the entrance—two doors open out on an angle leading under the house and to the cellar. Decent-sized gaps on either side are completely covered in darkness.

“Yeah, I see it.”

“You should have enough cover at the side of that, but to get there you’re going to have to run across open ground. You’ll be completely exposed for close to fifteen seconds.”

“Oh, wonderful...”

“I’m tracking the patrols now,” he continues. “I see a total of six guys working the perimeter in teams of two, with a lone guy based in the security station. You’re clear to your left, as you’re out of sight from the station, but to your right you’ve got two guys patrolling. It’s gonna be tight, but you should make it. Once there, you’ll be in total darkness again, so they shouldn’t see you.”

I lift my goggles up and look at the world as it is. Josh is right—there’s no way anyone will see me, and I doubt very much Pellaggio’s goons are equipped with the same tech as me. I pull my goggles back on and turn the world green once again.

“Okay,” says Josh again. “When I say, you run like hell, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Just up ahead, I catch a glimpse of one of the guards. He’s walking toward me down the left hand side, carrying an assault rifle, which he’s holding loose, and letting hang in front of him from the shoulder strap. I figure that means the other guy is walking away from me down the right… Plus, as I suspected, he’s not wearing any night vision goggles, so I’ll keep my advantage as long as I don’t get too close to anyone.

Seeing what I have to do, the enormity of the risk involved begins to sink in. As soon as the guy nearest to me turns his back, Josh is going to tell me to run. By the time I reach my cover, the guard will be out of earshot, but the guy patrolling the right hand side will be coming toward me, and I’ll be horribly close to his line of sight. Even in the dark, if he’s facing my direction and I’m running, he’ll see enough by what light is coming from the house that he’ll be suspicious and come in for a closer look. That, in turn, means there’s a very high chance of someone discovering me, and if
that
happens, it’s game over.

Shit.

“Be ready,” says Josh.

I stand slowly, preparing to run.

“Okay, go now!”

I set off like a sprinter out of the starting blocks. I have to cover almost three hundred feet in less than fifteen seconds. As I run, my weapons bounce around, adding extra resistance. I feel myself slowing down as a result.

Five seconds.

“Adrian, the guy on the left will likely be out of earshot by now, but the guy coming toward you on the right will have line of sight any second—you gotta push the pace...”

I grit my teeth and press on. I’m usually pretty fast, for someone my age, but I’m not an Olympic sprinter by any means. Plus, despite normally being in good shape, the pounding my body’s taken recently is making quick, heavy breathing a very painful experience. Subconsciously, I know I’m not running as fast as I’m capable of.

Ten seconds.

“Adrian, he’s almost in position—you need to get to cover NOW!”

I approach the cellar doors at full speed. I drop and do a baseball slide into the corner and slam into the wall, struggling to suppress a grunt of pain caused by the impact. I look out across the lawn and see the other guy almost level with my position. I’m gasping for breath. My lungs are burning—each intake is sending a white-hot stab of pain shooting into my ribs. I lift up my goggles, and the guy disappears in the darkness.

“Don’t move,” says Josh in my ear. “We’re not clear yet.”

I do everything I can to slow my breathing down as the seconds tick by. There’s nothing out of the ordinary just yet. But the big test will come when the first guy comes back toward me down the left flank.

“Okay, first guy is heading your way now. Don’t move, don’t breath, don’t do anything.”

My breathing is finally returning to normal. The guy on the left is approaching the cellar doors. I curl up into a ball in the small alcove, tucking myself away in the shadows in the corner next to them. I can’t see my hand in front of my face, which means he shouldn’t be to see anything if he looks my way. I slip my goggles back on and see the guy walking right in front of me. He can’t be more than ten feet away…

I hold my breath, causing a fresh pain to pulsate through my chest like a fire spreading through a forest. My eyes water, blurring my vision through the goggles.

Come on… move, you piece of shit…

The guy’s almost past me, but I can’t hold it in any longer.

I grimace at the burning sensation as I let out a breath.

Fuck!

I immediately clasp my hand over my mouth, but it’s no good. The guy stops, listening intently. Then he takes a couple of paces backward and stares into the small abyss where I’m crouching down against the wall. He doesn’t know it, but he’s looking right at me.

Josh’s voice sounds in my ear. “Oh, bollocks…”

THE GUY’S STANDING directly in front of me, squinting into the same darkness I’m desperately trying to hide in. I’m convinced he can hear my heart beating inside my chest. He takes another step closer, his hand tightening around the barrel and stock of the machine gun he’s holding.

I know Josh is watching via satellite, and I’m silently begging him to give me something to go on—some clue as to what my next move should be, but he’s staying quiet. Probably worried his voice would be heard in the silence.

I run through my options but soon arrive at the annoying conclusion that there’s really only one way out of this... If this guy doesn’t move away, he’s going to have to die.

I move my hand slowly away from my mouth and down to my leg. With infinite care, I draw the knife from its sheath, which I've strapped to the front of my right thigh. I slowly and carefully grip the handle. I can’t risk drawing it right away in case the blade makes a noise, but I want to get ready to use it if I need to.

Come on… move, goddammit!

I’m willing him to walk away, but he remains in front of me, trying to focus and see into the dark shadows ahead of him. He takes another pace toward me, pointing his gun out in front of him.

Each second that passes feels like an hour. I need to make a decision and fast. I can’t afford to blow this, not after coming so far. But the bottom line is if this guy finds me, it’ll be very hard to deal with it without alerting everyone else. And if I lose the element of surprise, I’m as good as dead. Unless I run for it...

Let’s be honest—that’s never going to happen. I would literally rather die.

Ah, fuck it.

In one swift and silently brutal movement, I draw my knife and lunge toward the guy, pushing up with my legs and thrusting the blade forward. It carves into him effortlessly, catching him in the fleshy part of his throat, just below his jaw and above his Adam’s apple. I aim it perfectly, immediately severing his vocal chords, meaning he can’t make any noise as he dies. He falls forward, and I catch him, guiding him silently to the floor with my left hand.

That’s one issue resolved, but now I’m left with a whole new one. The other guy’s going to notice his friend’s missing in the next thirty seconds.

“Josh,” I say, urgently. “Where’s the second guard?”

“Yeah, I can’t help but notice that the heat signature near you is disappearing...” he replies, sarcastically.

“I had no choice. Where’s the other one?”

“He’s still walking away from you on the far side. He’ll be turning round any second. Just be careful the other patrol at the far side of the house doesn’t see him drop.”

“I’ll wait for him to head back toward me, don’t worry.”

I remain where I am, making sure the same darkness hiding me is completely cloaking the dead guard. The next twenty seconds feel like a lifetime, but eventually Josh comes back on the line.

“Right, the second guy’s approaching you now. You should see him coming from the left any second. You can’t let him get too close. Otherwise he’ll notice his partner’s missing.”

“I’m on it.”

I move forward slightly, crouching on the edge of the alcove, just inside the shadows. After a couple of seconds, I have a clear view of the other guy, walking casually but alert across the lawn. I grab the knife by the blade and line it up, ready to unleash it at my target. I’m a good aim, but I’m trying to hit either his throat or the top of his chest with a knife from about eighty feet away. It’s not going to be easy, but I don’t want to use my guns. Even though they’re fitted with their silencers, there’s still a risk of noise or commotion. Plus, I’m going to need every bullet I have for what comes later.

I take a few deep breaths to slow my heart rate down, ignoring the pain. Josh sounds in my ear once more.

“Adrian, whatever you’re going to do, you have to do it now.”

“I’ve got this,” I whisper back, concentrating.

Just another couple of paces toward me, and...

I whip the knife across the lawn, following through with my arm so it gains maximum velocity as it travels with deadly intent toward the remaining sentry. It takes a little over a second to hit him.

Bullseye!

It hits him at the bottom of the throat, penetrating his skin with ease and completely burying itself inside. He instinctively clutches at the knife, his face contorted in shock and pain. But it’s too late for him—he’s dead before he hits the floor.

I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Good shot,” says Josh.

“Thanks,” I reply. “How long do I have?”

“It’ll be a few minutes before he’s noticed I would think. I’ve not seen any previous interaction between the two patrols.”

“Good.” I stand and quickly check the rest of my equipment’s still in place. “Right, give me a minute.”

I edge forward out of the shadows of my alcove and glance left and right. I can’t see any movement, but I leave it a few moments just to be sure, then I sprint over to the dead body.

I crouch low next to him and retrieve my knife. I wipe the blood off the blade on the grass and re-sheath it.

“Josh, how’s it looking?” I ask.

“Still clear, for now. I wouldn’t hang around though,” he replies.

“Don’t intend to.”

The dead guy’s lying on his right side, partially facing the ground. Still crouching, I grab a hold of his right arm and sling it over my shoulder. I put my hands around his waist and gradually get a grip underneath him. Taking some quick, deep breaths, I steel myself and, in one last monumental effort that hurts every inch of my body, I stand and heave him over my shoulder in something akin to a fireman’s lift. I take a quick glance around again and set off back to the alcove. I try to run, but under the weight, it’s more of a slow jog.

“Hurry up, Adrian,” urges Josh. “The patrol on the far side is coming up fast and will see if you if they look your way.”

“Going as… fast… as I can,” I huff, struggling under the weight.

It takes me twice as long to cover the same distance going back, but I manage to retreat into the shadows undetected. I drop the body next to his partner and push them back against the wall, making sure they’re fully hidden.

I take a moment to catch my breath. I step out onto the lawn and look back at the alcove, checking the bodies aren’t visible—which they’re not.

“Right, now get me on the goddamn roof,” I say.

Josh chuckles. “This is going to be the fun part,” he says.

“I very much doubt that…”

“To your left, as you approach the end of the south wall, there’s another small alcove in between a large bay window and the corner of the house. As you face the alcove, there’s a drainage pipe on the right hand side that leads up almost all the way to the roof.”

“Okay, the keys words I picked up there were ‘window’ and ‘almost’—care to elaborate?”

“Sure,” he says, laughing a little too much for my liking.

It’s these kinds of situations where Josh and I really come alive. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job—as much as someone can love killing people for a living. But this: the thrill of the assault, the adrenaline, the danger, the close quarters battle—it’s what I miss from the old days on the unit most of all.

Before the dark times...

Josh is no different. He was a good soldier and I would entrust him with my life, but he’s always been better at being the eyes, ears, and brains for everyone else. He’s a strategist and he excels at the logistics and the planning. He always wanted to be the one directing everyone else to victory from behind a desk of hi-tech toys. I’ll never forget the way he phrased our relationship to me once. He said: “Adrian, you’ve always wanted to be The Man. I’ve always wanted to be the man that The Man relies on.”

No truer words have ever been spoken.

He continues, with undisguised enthusiasm. “By ‘window’, I mean a massive bay window that I’m hoping will have the curtains closed, otherwise you’ll be on full view of whoever’s in that room. And by ‘almost’, I mean that the drainpipe stops about six feet below the main roof, where the first floor of the house sticks out, and the roof angles for drainage. You’re going to have to balance on that, jump, then climb up the rest of the way.”

“Excellent. Glad I asked.”

“The good news is, once you’re on the main roof, there’s a decent-sized skylight above what looks like a large hall or room.
And
, it looks like tonight’s your lucky night, because there’s some kind of meeting going on in there—I count at least fourteen heat signatures gathered together, with five… no, six more dotted around just outside that main room.”

“That’ll be a Pellaggio crisis meeting. I suspect the word's out that I’ve survived the car bomb.”

“You just gotta get to that roof unseen. You ready?”

“Always.”

“Okay, stay low and as close as you can to the wall. Be careful as you approach the bay window. I reckon you’ve got two minutes to get in that end alcove and up the drainpipe at least above eye level, before the other patrol realizes they’re two men down.”

“Copy that.”

Staying low, I set off and head for the end of the south wall. My goggles are back in place, and I see no movement ahead of me. I cover the distance quickly, and I soon reach the bay window. It juts out like a big square, a good three feet from the house. I can see the next alcove on the other side of it. The two sides and the front of the window are all glass, from ceiling down to about waist height. The curtains are open, giving whoever’s standing there a full view of the south lawn.

“Josh, are you picking up any heat signatures nearby?” I ask.

“I’ve got one near the window, yeah. Hold position. It’s hard to tell which way he’s facing. If his back’s to the window, you'll be alright, but until he moves, I can’t tell.”

“Alright, standing by.”

I crouch low, close to the wall. I’ll be fine, as long as no one walks into the bay and looks out of their right-hand side window. If they do, at this range they’ll see me even in the darkness.

Almost a full minute passes in silence. Josh crackles back on the line.

“He’s got his back to you. Stay low and move fast, I don’t know how long you’ve got here.”

“Done.”

I move silently, sidestepping in a crouch with my back to the window. I duck low enough to stay out of view, but again, if anyone walks right up to the window and looks out, they’ll see me instantly.

I hold my breath as I move quickly.

“You’re clear,” confirms Josh.

I breathe out as I settle into the alcove un-noticed.

I test the drainpipe with my hands. It’s solid and well attached, so it should take my weight. I grab a hold of it with both hands and place my right foot on the side. I push with my legs and pull with my arms, heaving myself slowly up toward the roof.

It’s not as easy as it should be, but I manage to shuffle up the drainpipe like a monkey up a tree, reaching the top without incident.

I can see what Josh means about the last few feet...

The roof is made of old slate tiles and is on a reasonably steep slant with a gutter around the edge. Standing on it with any degree of balance is going to be difficult. The main roof of the house is roughly six feet above that, as Josh had said. I pull myself up onto the roof, slowly standing as if I have one foot on a step, with my arms out to the sides for balance. I find my footing and look up. The ledge of the main roof is technically about head height for me, but because I’m on the slant, it looks impossibly high…

I don’t know why, because heights aren’t my favorite thing in the world, but I have a sudden urge to look down…

Holy crap…

Oh, man, I shouldn’t have done that!

Basically, if I fall I’m almost certainly dead… brilliant.

I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself and think about how best to attempt this.

I don’t like it at all. That’s a big jump to make from a standing start on a downward slope. Given the damage I’ve done to my chest and ribs over the last few days, especially in the last half hour, it’s going to be very difficult pulling myself up there…

“Adrian, what’s wrong?” asks Josh.

“I don’t think I can make the jump to the main roof from where I’m standing. The angle I’m balancing on is too steep,” I admit, reluctantly.

“I know it’s not easy, but there’s no other way up there. You’ve got to make this or it’s all over.”

“No pressure then?”

“You got this, man. You just need to focus. Talk to me when you’ve made it.”

I sigh. I’ve got a bad feeling about this...

I look up at the roof. I find my balance and inch backward, allowing myself enough room for one step before I make the jump. I rub my hands on my legs to dry them, taking one last deep breath.

I take the step and jump. With every ounce of strength I have, I push off and reach to my full extent...

Shit, I’m not going to reach the ledge...

I miss and land awkwardly on the top of the slanted roof. My back foot slips out from under me on the roof tiles, and I topple backward, clutching at thin air for support.