Gray Salvation (18 page)

The answer came in the guise of small arms fire, and Aminev instinctively knew something had gone dreadfully wrong.

‘Follow me!’ he yelled and, with more than a dozen soldiers in his wake, ran as fast as he could towards the battle. He heard the sound of an explosion as he tore through the side street, and a minute later he emerged onto the main thoroughfare, where two trucks stood.

Six of his men lay dead, and another wearing the same uniform was climbing into the back of one of the vehicles. He looked for the enemy, but there seemed to be no sign of them.

Until what appeared to be two of his men emerged from the back of the wagon, pushing a figure in black towards the second vehicle. As he watched, two men jumped out of the first truck, and one of them began spraying lead at the wheels.

Confusion gave way to rage, and Aminev brought his weapon up. He fired as the last of the attackers climbed into the truck and was rewarded with a scream as the man fell to the ground. He urged his men to open up, and they began peppering the vehicle with automatic fire.

It wasn’t long before they began to come under fire themselves, and he was conscious of men falling all around him. The British were picking them off at an alarming rate, and he ordered his men to find cover as he retreated to the corner of the building. Metal pinged off the masonry around him, but he stuck his head around the corner and began firing at the tyres. If they managed to get their wounded man and drive off, there was no way he’d be able to catch them.

‘Aim for the wheels!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t let them escape!’

The men followed his lead, but the unerring accuracy of the enemy was taking a vicious toll. He was down to three soldiers, and another cry went up as one of them took a round to the chest.

Aminev began to panic. If he let the intruders escape, he’d be lucky to live until sunset. He shifted his aim to the man on the ground, but hesitated.

These people had come to get one of their own. Having rescued him, they came back for their pilot. It struck him that they wouldn’t go while one of their men lay injured on the street.

The man in his sights got to his feet, cradling his arm as he staggered to the back of the truck. Aminev couldn’t afford to let him climb aboard. He let loose two rounds, aiming for the man’s legs, and was satisfied to see him go down.

That might stall them for a few more minutes, but Aminev had only two men against a highly trained unit.

‘Yakov, get on the radio and order everyone back here, now!’

Aminev pressed himself further against the wall, offering as small a target as possible, then poked the snout of his rifle around the corner and let off another burst at the truck’s cab. The firing pin came down on an empty chamber, and he switched magazines, conscious of the fact that ammunition would be crucial in this battle of attrition. Fortunately, the dead soldiers around him would no longer need the bullets they’d carried.

All he had to do was keep the enemy pinned down long enough for the cavalry to arrive.

Veronica Ellis slammed down the phone and stormed out of her office. On the main floor, the team were working feverishly, still filtering airline manifests and comparing the passenger names with known criminals.

‘Where’s Sarah?’ she asked Elaine Solomon.

‘She went out to lunch.’

Ellis consulted her watch and saw that it was just after three. ‘What time did she leave?’

‘Just after twelve, I think.’

It didn’t seem like Thompson to take so long for her lunch break. Most of the time she just had a colleague fetch a sandwich and ate it at her desk. Ellis dug into her pocket for her phone, a sense of unease threatening to overwhelm her.

The call to Thompson’s mobile went straight to voicemail. She hung up and tried the landline number she had in her contacts list, but after a dozen rings she gave up.

‘Is it anything I can help with?’ Solomon asked.

Ellis put her concerns for Thomson aside for a moment. ‘As I expected, the video of Andrew hit the Internet soon after it was first aired in Tagrilistan. Several of our news outlets have finally picked up on the story and are asking what the government plans to do about it.’

‘Maybe that’s a good thing,’ Solomon said. ‘Perhaps now they’ll send someone in to get him.’

‘I doubt that very much. The deadline to organise a swap is today, so there’s no time to assemble a team. Once news gets out that we knew he was being held hostage and did nothing about it, the media will have a field day. The opposition leader has already been asking searching questions, accusing the PM of putting money before lives.’

‘Well, he’s right, in a way.’

‘He certainly is,’ Ellis told her, ‘and that’s the galling part. The PM casts Andrew aside, then denies any knowledge. According to his statement, this was the first the government had heard about Andrew’s kidnapping.’

‘Which happens to be utter bollocks.’

‘Crudely put,’ Ellis said, ‘though highly accurate. On top of all that, the Kazakhstani president wants to know why the Russian rebels are massing on his border. The home secretary just called me to ensure we stick to that script, especially if I’m called before the ISC.’

The Intelligence and Security Committee was a panel of nine MPs and Lords who oversaw the work of MI5, MI6 and the Government Communication HQ – not a friendly bunch at the best of times. Ellis could expect a tough time, particularly at the hands of the opposition members.

That would come later, though. Her priority was to find out where the hell Thompson had gone.

‘Give me a list of all known contacts for Sarah,’ she told Solomon. ‘Email, social media, phones – the lot. We need to find her.’

Chapter 25

26 January 2016

‘I’m getting low,’ Gray said over the comms.

He was crouching behind the wheel of the truck, which offered more protection than the thin metal of the cab door. Beside him, Len Smart checked the contents of his last magazine and shook his head, and from the rear wheel Sonny reported that he was almost out, too.

‘We have to get Doc to cover,’ Sonny added. ‘He’s taken another hit. He’ll be dead in seconds.’

Gray peered around the side of the tyre and saw Doc writhing on the ground. His forearm was covered in blood, and he had another nasty-looking wound to the left leg. A glance at the Russian defensive position showed him that the enemy had all the opportunity in the world to take out Doc if they wanted to.

‘I don’t think so,’ he told Sonny. ‘Looks like they want him alive, maybe to slow us down.’

‘Either way, we’ve got to get him out of here. He needs a medic.’

‘Then we need to finish these guys off.’ Gray took out his GPS and quickly worked out a route to get behind the Russians.

‘Len, you keep them pinned down. I’ll take Sonny round the back of them.’

Before Smart could object, Gray ran over to Sonny’s position and tapped him on the shoulder. They both backed away, keeping the large wheels between themselves and incoming fire. When Gray’s back touched concrete, he crabbed to the corner and broke into a sprint, Sonny close on his heels.

At the end of the street, he took a left and ran two hundred yards to the third junction, then took another left, which brought them out onto the main drag. In the distance he could see the two trucks, and he signalled for Smart to keep up the sporadic gunfire to hold the Russians back while he and Sonny crossed the road. Small arms fire erupted as the Russians responded to Smart’s shots in frustration, enabling Gray to lead Sonny across the street in a hurry. Another left turn and a short sprint later, he came upon the side street where the Russians were dug in. Only three of them. A welcome bit of good news.

‘I’ll send a grenade in first,’ Gray said, tugging the pin from the explosive but keeping a tight grip on the handle, ‘then we clean them up.’

Sonny gave a quick nod and had his rifle up to his shoulder, ready for action. The pair crept slowly towards the enemy, sticking close to the wall and planting their feet carefully. When they got within twenty yards, Gray motioned for Sonny to stop and push himself up against a doorway, then lobbed the grenade towards the Russian trio. It bounced once a couple of yards behind them, and then filled the air with shrapnel, cutting them down. A quick glance at the bodies told him there was no need to check for survivors.

‘Clear, Len. We’re coming out.’

Gray ran out into the street and over to Doc, who now lay still. He put his fingers to Doc’s neck and found a faint pulse, but the widening pool of blood didn’t bode well.

Sonny and Smart helped to lift Doc into the back of the truck, where McGregor was lying flat on his stomach, his arms still handcuffed behind his back.

Gray brought up a screen on the GPS and tossed it to Smart. ‘You drive. Green is our current location, red is where Andrew and Mark are waiting.’

Smart climbed out of the truck and ran to the front, starting the engine and jerking the vehicle around to point in the right direction. In the back, Gray used a knife to rip two strips of cloth from Doc’s smock to use as tourniquets. The truck bounced at every pothole and was running low on one side, where the tyres had been shredded by the Russians. Still, Smart was able to keep it going, and Gray much preferred the rough ride to walking.

‘Any chance you could get these things off me?’ McGregor asked, his head banging against the metal floor every time Smart drove over anything bigger than a pebble.

‘You’ll have to wait until we stop,’ Sonny said. ‘If I try to shoot them now I’ll end up blowing a hole in you.’

To ease the man’s discomfort, Sonny helped him upright and sat him down on the bench that ran the length of the flatbed. Sonny removed a field dressing from his pocket and tended to the wound on Mac’s wrist.

‘What’s your plan?’ McGregor asked Gray.

‘Get out of town, then make a phone call.’

‘I thought you said we were on our own. No backup.’

With the state the truck was in, there was no way they’d make it to the western border, and they couldn’t head east without being spotted by the large concentration of Russian troops assembled there.

‘We only have one real option left.’

Ellis was growing increasingly concerned about Sarah Thompson. There had been no word for four hours, and she hoped Thompson hadn’t done anything stupid. The last they’d spoken had been in her office, when it looked as if Tom Gray’s mission had failed.

Had Sarah taken that too hard? Had she decided she couldn’t go on without Andrew?

Ellis dismissed the thought. Thompson was a strong woman. There was no way she’d consider harming herself, despite the circumstances.

The phone almost made Ellis jump, and she snatched up the handset.

‘Ellis.’

‘It’s Gray. We’ve got Andrew.’

‘Oh, thank God for that! How is he? Where are you?’

‘He’s fine, but we’ve hit some major problems.’

Ellis listened as Tom Gray gave her a condensed version of the events that had unfolded following their incursion into Tagrilistan.

‘What do you need?’ she asked tentatively. She’d already done all she could, and going back to the defence minister and admitting she’d ignored orders and sent a team in would mean a swift end to her career.

‘We lost the chopper and reaching the border is out of the question. We need you to contact the Tagrilistan president and arrange safe passage.’

‘Can’t you just drive to their capital?’ Ellis asked.

‘The only transport we’ve got is a Russian truck. The moment they see us they’ll blow us apart. That’s why we need you to contact the Tagrilistan army and warn them that we’re heading their way.’

‘How long until you reach their lines?’ Ellis asked.

‘At the rate we’re going, maybe ninety minutes.’

‘Consider it done. I’ll go and see their ambassador now and get him to pass the word along. I’ll get back to you.’

‘Hurry,’ Gray said. ‘The battery on this phone’s almost out.’

Ellis ended the call and slipped into her coat. The relief that Harvey was so close to freedom was immense, but the one person desperate to hear the news was nowhere to be found. She walked out on to the main floor and over to Solomon’s desk.

‘I have to go out for an hour. If Sarah comes in, get her to call me straight away.’

Ellis swiped her security card and walked down the stairs, hoping the Tagrilistani government’s wheels spun a little quicker than they did in Westminster.

Erin Potter ended one call and went straight to the next in the queue. As with every day, the phones rarely stopped ringing, though a glance at the clock told her that the shift at Thames House would be finished within an hour, when the night receptionist would take over.

Potter answered the next call with her usual greeting.

‘Er . . . Hi. I’d like to report a kidnapping.’

Potter was used to crank calls, and went through the normal procedure of putting a trace on the call. Unusually this was from a landline, whereas most time-wasters preferred untraceable mobile phones.

‘Can I take your name, please?’ she asked politely. Sometimes they responded honestly to this question, but only on rare occasions.

‘Jeff Swinton. I’m a traffic warden. I saw a woman being kidnapped earlier today.’

‘Sir, you do realise that’s more a matter for the police,’ she told him.

‘I know, but she told me she was from MI5.’

Potter instantly went on alert. She knew from her friend Elaine Solomon that Sarah Thompson had been strangely absent for most of the afternoon, and this could explain why. ‘Can you describe the woman?’

The caller reeled off the description, as well as the time and location of the incident, and Potter typed up the details with lightning fingers, and had just put the caller on hold when she saw Veronica Ellis walking through the lobby.

‘Miss Ellis!’ she shouted, drawing the director general’s attention.

Ellis quickly strode over to the reception desk and leaned over it. ‘What is it?’ she snapped, looking at her watch.

‘I have a traffic warden on the phone—’

Ellis straightened, clearly annoyed. ‘I don’t have time for this. If he’s going to give me a ticket, let him.’

She walked away, and Potter called after her. ‘But he said it’s about—’

Ellis waved her away, disappearing through the door.

Having tried her best, Potter reconnected the call and took the man’s contact details, promising someone would be in touch in the next few minutes, then sent off an internal email to Elaine Solomon.

Ellis decided to walk to the Tagrilistani ambassador’s residence, which sat in a side street just off Millbank, the street running parallel to the Thames. It was only a ten-minute stroll, but she made it in half that time, almost jogging. A phone call would have been quicker, but she felt something this important should be handled face-to-face.

She knocked on the door of the residence and it was answered by a staffer, who took her MI5 pass and made a call upstairs. Seconds later the reply came, and she was shown up to the first floor and along the corridor to a set of double doors.

‘Please,’ her escort said, opening the doors for her before closing them behind her.

Ellis found herself alone in the room with the ambassador, Mikhail Greminov, a thin man in his fifties who stood from behind his lavish oak desk and offered her a seat.

‘Thanks you for seeing me, Mikhail,’ Ellis said. ‘I apologise for not calling ahead.’

‘Not at all,’ Greminov said. ‘What can I do for you today?’

‘It’s regarding Andrew Harvey.’

Greminov’s face screwed up in disapproval at the mention of the name.

‘I think President Milenko has made his position regarding your missing operative quite clear.’

‘I appreciate that, but there has been . . . a development. One of Harvey’s friends heard about his predicament and took it upon himself to launch a rescue mission. He managed to get to Andrew, but he needs help getting out of the country.’

‘And just who is this friend of his?’ Greminov asked. ‘I assume it isn’t his tailor.’

‘His name is Tom Gray. He and four friends managed to spring Harvey from a jail in Dubrany, but they have casualties. I need you to inform your troops that Gray will be approaching your lines in –’ she studied her watch – ‘about eighty minutes. I’d appreciate it if you could guarantee them safe passage and a flight home.’

‘I must say, President Milenko is going to be less than pleased when he learns about a military incursion into our country. He specifically said he wanted no action that would anger Moscow.’

‘Tom Gray isn’t active military,’ Ellis said. ‘He retired years ago. This wasn’t sanctioned by our government.’

Greminov eyed her quizzically. ‘Are you telling me he had no help whatsoever?’

‘None that our cabinet ministers are aware of,’ Ellis said truthfully.

‘The fact remains that armed Britons are operating on our soil without our permission. I think the first person we should notify about this should be your prime minister. It would be interesting to hear his thoughts on the matter.’