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‘They call you the Kingmaker. Tell me about that.’
Davis Bracey, his face twisted in agony, didn’t answer. Sweat beaded off every inch of his bare upper torso. Not because of the heat of the room, but because of his body’s physiological response to stress. To pain. He clutched his right hand – the mangled fingers on it – to his chest, his body crumpled into a heap in the corner of the tastefully decorated room. Tastefully decorated like all of his plush townhouses. Bracey’s home. A sanctuary, usually.
Not tonight.
‘They call you the Kingmaker,’ James Ryker repeated from the chair in the middle of the room. A chair Bracey had originally been sitting on for this… conversation. Until he’d slipped off the seat as he writhed about in terror and pain after he’d suffered the third of several breakages to his digits. So Ryker had decided to use the chair instead. Relax a little until he was finished here. ‘Tell me about the name.’
‘I… didn’t choose it.’
‘No?’
‘No. And it nearly got me killed! The… They…’
‘The Syndicate?’
A pause before Bracey responded, as though weighing up whether to acknowledge the reference. ‘They hated that the press were… talking about me like that.’
‘Like you were more important, more influential than you really are?’
Bracey found an inner strength to send a fighting glare back at Ryker. Which only told Ryker this man could still take more suffering if that was the path he chose.
‘You’re called the Kingmaker because according to many people, you pulled the strings to get the last three UK prime ministers into office.’
Bracey humphed, defiant now.
‘You’re saying that’s not true?’
He didn’t answer.
‘But I know the real story,’ Ryker said. ‘It wasn’t you at all. Look at you. You’re nothing. You only ever did what you were told.’
Still no response. So Ryker rose from the chair, towering over the man on the floor. The intimidation worked and Bracey cowered.
‘Tell me about the Syndicate,’ Ryker asked.
‘I don’t know anything!’
‘Who’s in charge?’
it was a bird with a damaged wing.
‘You know what comes next,’ Ryker said.
‘Please!’ Bracey screamed. ‘Please, don’t.’
‘Then tell me what you know.’
‘I do what I’m told! That’s all. I’m not one of them. I have to do what they say to keep me and my family safe!’
‘Who’s in charge? Give me names. Then I’ll be gone.’
‘I don’t know who’s in charge!’ Bracey yelled, defiance winning out again in a momentary burst of strength. Until Ryker slapped him hard in the face and then crushed the stricken hand in his grip. Bracey’s eyes popped wide open and he gasped and silently screamed as though the pain was too much to even make a noise.
‘Last chance,’ Ryker said, taking hold of an intact finger.
‘Please! Don’t…’
‘Then tell me.’
‘Okay! I’ll give you a name.’ Tears fell as he sobbed. ‘But please… Promise me… Promise you won’t kill me.’
‘Just tell me the name.’
‘Okay.’
Beirut, Lebanon
The sun in the ocean-blue sky did little to lift the chill of a cold winter’s morning. The tall buildings of the inner city dragged icy air through the streets at breakneck speed. She huddled down in her sweater as she walked. She hadn’t put on a coat. She hadn’t even brought a coat here as she wasn’t expecting the unusually chilly weather. Regardless, a bulky coat would have been far too cumbersome anyway. If she needed to move quickly, she was better off without it. She turned the corner and a man carrying a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other – his eyes glued to the device – nearly slammed straight into her.
‘Ana asif,’ she said to him in apology, dodging out of his way just in time. He barely made eye contact, grunted, and carried on walking. She grumbled under her breath and jostled the backpack on her back as though she needed to reaffirm it was still there.
‘Making friends with the locals?’ came a gritty voice in her ear, the sound pulsing out of the tiny earbud device, only visible if someone were to focus on and stare inside her ear. Which would be pretty weird.
‘I’m freezing my balls off out here.’ A different voice this time, accompanied by labored breaths. He was on the move too.
‘Thought you Northern boys were used to the cold.’ A third voice. Noticeably different for the lack of background noise. C. C for control. He had the best job today, sat in a windowless office in Central London. At least it was heated.
‘I’ve spent most of the last three years in the desert.’
‘It doesn’t get cold in the desert at night?’ she asked.
‘Not with you pressed up by my side, Angel.’
‘More like you prodding your little woody into her side every night, begging for a bit of action. Isn’t that right, Ang—’
‘Guys, remember the damn rules,’ said C, sounding agitated. ‘None of you is new to this.’
‘You got it, C.’
‘Understood.’
‘Sorry,’ Angel said, even though she hadn’t strayed.
No names was C’s point. Perhaps Red’s first mention of her name could have been misconstrued as a term of endearment to anyone listening in. Today, as long as they were here in this country, she was Pink. Which was quite
clearly pathetic given she was the only female on the team of four, but C was calling the shots and that was the name he’d given her.
Anyway, Angel wasn’t even her real name, not really. A nickname. At least, that’s how it’d started, although it’d taken hold among everyone she knew, except her parents who still insisted on calling her Angela.
Paul had started it. Angela, Angel, she still didn’t know if he’d simply tried to find some shortened version of her name or if he’d meant the direct angelic connotation, but she still remembered how it’d made her feel to hear him say it that first time. The name had stuck. She really didn’t know how it’d spread to every corner of her life, but it had. When she heard it coming from the mouths of her colleagues it didn’t bring with it that same fuzzy warmth in her gut as it had all those years ago with Paul, but if she ever stopped to think about it, Angel just made her feel more… normal. Made her feel better about the things she’d done. Some sort of atonement.
‘Pink, are you still there?’ C said, sounding even more agitated now.
‘Yeah.’
‘Then answer me when I’m talking. Are you on time?’
‘I’m right around the corner. I’ll be there in less than sixty seconds.’
‘I’m already in place,’ Blue said and Angel could imagine the smug look on his face as he said it. Blue saw himself as the most able of the team. He was simply one of those guys who believed himself to be way more gifted than
he really was. A lot of guys were like that, actually. Today he had the second most cushy job after C. Blue was here as an extra pair of eyes. The real work would be down to Red and her.
‘I’m approaching the convenience store now,’ Red said. By convenience store, he meant Location A. His final destination.
Angel slowed this time as she rounded the next corner. Not just in case another passerby knocked into her, but because of her increased vigilance now the op was heating up.
‘I’m closing in too,’ she said, eyes resting on the sign for the hotel a few yards in front. A hotel that was noted on the op files as Location B. She carried on past the main entrance, keeping her head low. Too many eyes for her to go inside that way, both in terms of the real world and the virtual eyes of so many cameras. She took another corner into a quieter side alley and came to a stop by a metal service door. She looked left and right, all the while keeping her head low, the peak of her cap enough to shield her face from the single camera above her.
No one in sight.
She pulled the key card from her pocket then pressed it up against the pad by the door.
Green light.
She opened the door, her free hand resting by her
hip in case she needed to quickly pull out her concealed sidearm.
No. She didn’t.
‘I’m in,’ she said, her voice lower now, even though there was no one around to overhear.
‘Same,’ Red said.
‘Nice synchro,’ Blue said with a chuckle. ‘I’ll just order myself a cappuccino and a croissant while you two get yourselves ready.’
Slowly, quietly, Angel pulled the door closed then stood in place a moment, composing herself. She took a deep breath then set off along the carpeted corridor where food smells drifted from the hotel restaurant’s kitchen somewhere nearby.
She headed for the service elevator. Further afield a door opened and banged closed. She heard a male voice. Arabic. The guy spoke loudly into a radio or phone. Footsteps coming her way. She didn’t look from the elevator doors, willing them to open.
They did. She jumped inside and used the key card to activate the panel then pressed for the thirty-sixth floor. One floor higher than the penthouse guest rooms.
‘Come on,’ she said under her breath as though doing so would speed up the closing doors.
Too late – the chatty man came into view. Cocked his head her way. She tried to act as confident and natural as she could.
She smiled and nodded as the doors finally started to close. Her hand hovered by her concealed handgun once more. The guy held her eye, paused in his conversation a second before responding and carrying on past. His conversation started up again as the doors closed with a soft thunk.
or glided up at speed, no stops until she’d reached the very top. She stepped out into a concrete-lined corridor. Nothing luxury or fancy up here and the cold look came with a colder temperature that caused her skin to prickle and the hairs on the back of her neck to dance.
‘I’m heading outside now,’ she said before pushing open the door for the rooftop. A blast of icy air hit her as she stepped out, but at least the space was in the sunshine, making it feel far more inviting than the gray corridor behind her.
‘Anything happening at your end, Blue?’ C asked.
‘Just enjoying some breakfast,’ came Blue’s reply, and it actually did sound like he was chewing as he spoke. Bastard.
‘I’ll take that as an A-OK,’ C said.
‘You got it.’
‘Confirmation that Alpha has entered the central district,’ C added. ‘Red, Pink, I need you set up within the next two minutes.’
Confirmation? Certainly she nor Red nor Blue had given any such confirmation. This op, officially, was the four of them. Officially? No, that didn’t really work for an op like this. But their team was four. Of course, Angel knew C had intel coming from elsewhere but neither she nor the others asked anything about that because they knew damn well they’d get no truths in return. But the op was simple enough. One target, three of them on the ground to get the job done. Blue was all of fifty yards from the expected location of Alpha, hiding in plain sight, but he knew how to blend in. He was there to provide up-close visual contact. Pink and Red were located at two different locations, both high up, and between four hundred and five hundred yards away. Pink to the south, Red to the east to give them a wide view of the target location which sat just a couple of streets away from the glistening Mediterranean to their north and west.
‘He’s ahead of schedule, isn’t he?’ Red said.
‘So are we. Right?’ C responded.
‘Yeah,’ Angel confirmed. ‘I’ll be ready.’
‘Give me the affirmative when you are.’
She got onto her knees at the far corner of the rooftop where the murmur of traffic drifted up to her position from far below. She slid the backpack from her shoulders and opened it. Carefully, she took out the pieces for the Remington sniper rifle – a concealable version of the MSR model that broke down into its constituent parts for easy transport. Most sniper rifles were big, heavy, cumbersome, but she’d carried this thing around the city for more than a mile no problem, and with not one person suspecting what she had on her back.
She twisted the AAC SR7 suppressor in place then loaded the ten-cartridge magazine, did her final checks before laying the rifle down. Then she lay down too, chest to the cold floor, eye to the scope which she spent a few seconds adjusting.
‘What a view,’ she said, looking around. ‘OK,’ she said a few moments later, as much to herself as to the rest of the team. ‘I have the target
location in sight.’
‘Good,’ C said. ‘And you, Red?’
‘Nearly.’
Angel moved the barrel a few inches left, right, up, down, familiarizing herself with everything around the front of the hotel in the distance.
‘OK,’ Red said. ‘I’m good to go.’
‘Anyone got a visual yet?’ C asked.
He got three nos in response.
‘What are you two doing after this?’ Blue asked as though they had the time to chat. But she’d play along. Better to fill the time with banality than allowing doubts and nerves to creep in.
‘I move out before nightfall,’ Red said, sounding a little unhappy about that fact – as though he’d wanted to stay to see some sights.
‘Pink?’
‘I brought my favorite black dress with me. Tonight I’m going to the cocktail bar at the top of the Grand Hotel and I’m staying there until I’ve run out of suckers to buy me free drinks.’
Blue and Red both laughed. ‘If I had your assets, I’d probably do exactly the same,’ Red said.
‘And what does Mr Pink think about that?’ Blue asked. ‘You hooking up with random horny Arab guys?’
‘Still, it’s not how I’d want my wife behaving.’
‘I’m not your wife.’
‘You don’t have a wife, or a girlfriend, or even a friend with benefits,’ Red added. ‘With a face like yours, it’s hardly a surprise.’
Angel held back a laugh; actually, Blue’s face wasn’t that bad – it was his misogynistic attitude that put most sane women off him.
‘Funny,’ Blue said and Angel allowed herself a smile at his more sulky tone. Typical of him. Happy to dish it out, but he hated getting it back. ‘Anyway, Pink, I’m here all night too. If you want to—’
‘I think they’re here,’ Angel said. ‘Black Range Rover, one hundred yards.’
‘OK, all of you, no more chatter,’ C said, as if any of them really needed to be told that. ‘Blue, Red, you see it too?’
‘Got it.’
‘Yeah.’
There was a few moments’ silence. Angel slowly pulled the barrel of the rifle to the right, keeping the Range Rover in her crosshairs as it approached the entrance to the hotel. Her heart rate remained steady, she felt no nerves, but now that the crucial time approached her mind began to flicker more erratically. Her sight wholly focused on the car now, she awaited the moment of seeing their target. His face. She had to keep her cool and she was sure she would, but still… Knowing who this man was, what he’d done, would make it a harder task.
‘Do any of you have visual confirmation on Alpha?’ C said. He spoke quickly now, sounding nervous.
‘Tinted windows, obviously,’ Red said.
‘Vehicle coming to a stop now,’ Blue added.
‘Driver’s side rear passenger door opening,’ Angel said.
A man stepped out.
‘Shit,’ she said and for a moment she couldn’t quite catch her breath and her heart skipped two beats before gently thudding away again. ‘That’s Alpha.’
‘It’s really him?’ Red asked. Or was he confirming what she’d said? Angel wasn’t sure.
‘You see him?’ C asked. ‘Please confirm.’
‘Yeah,’ Angel said. ‘It’s really him.’ And she noted the surprise in her own voice, but then their target being here had been anything but a dead cert given his reclusive nature. They’d debated more than once whether the intel they were working off was too good to be true. Apparently not.
‘He doesn’t look half as bad in the flesh,’ Red said. ‘Just a normal guy.’
‘What were you expecting?’ Blue said. ‘The boogeyman?’
‘No, I—’
She noted the harsh tone to her words, but then she knew what this man had done. What he’d do again. She’d seen the grotesque videos. Not back in the day when they’d first been released in order to terrorize. Back then she’d been a teenager still and had no interest in seeking out something so macabre, even if she recalled the stories in the news. But before this job… She’d forced herself to watch the grim content in preparation for the task at hand.
She really wished she hadn’t. The sick images would haunt her forever.
‘OK, that’s enough chatter,’ C said. ‘You don’t have—’
‘I’ve got him in sight,’ Angel interrupted. ‘I’m good to go on your word.’
‘No, wait,’ Blue said, and Angel’s finger twitched on the trigger. ‘His wife’s out the other side, but—’
‘Kids,’ Red said. ‘Two kids. A boy, a girl.’
‘I thought the kids weren’t here,’ Angel said.
‘And who’s this other woman?’ Red added.
A second woman had stepped out of the car, but Angel didn’t recognize her either.
‘Guys, stay on track,’ C said. ‘Do you still have Alpha?’
‘Shit,’ Angel said. ‘No, I don’t have him.’ Alpha had moved around the other side of the vehicle.
‘We weren’t expecting all this company,’ Red said. ‘Who are they?’
‘Sending you images now, C, for confirmation,’ Blue said. ‘We need the go-ahead asap. We only have seconds.’
‘OK, OK,’ C said. ‘Confirmed, it’s Alpha’s kids. The second woman is the wife’s sister.’
‘Quick work, C,’ Angel said. Had he got someone else to confirm about the kids or did he already know them? She’d imagined him sitting alone in that room back in London but perhaps he actually had a whole team with him. For some reason, she didn’t like that idea.
‘But we need to be quicker,’ Blue said. ‘They’re moving away from the car now, toward the hotel.’
‘Yep, and my moment’s gone,’ Red said, and he sounded disappointed by that.
‘Pink?’ Blue prompted.
Alpha took the girl’s hand as he moved up the steps to the hotel, the boy at his sister’s side, Alpha’s wife and her sister two steps behind and intermittently stepping between Alpha and Angel’s crosshairs. They all looked so… normal. A happy little family. Did the others even know him, really?
‘I’ve… got him again,’ she said. ‘But not for long. Am I good?’
No response.
‘C, what the hell is the holdup?’ Blue asked.
‘I’m waiting on confirmation.’
s inside.’
‘He can’t stay in there forever,’ Red said.
‘C, do I do this or not?’
‘Pink, do it,’ C answered. ‘You’re good to go. Go, go, go.’
The wife took a step that moved her out of Angel’s crosshairs and she was left with an unobstructed view of Alpha’s back. She ever so slowly exhaled, pushed her finger onto the trigger, pushed a little more, feeling the resistance. She held the crosshairs in place as Alpha moved. She focused on the spot right behind his heart. The bullet could pass between his ribs, slowing the bullet down less than the bone would on its route. But it wouldn’t matter if it didn’t. At only five hundred yards the high caliber and high velocity of the .338 Lapua Magnum round was capable of piercing military-grade body armor. The projectile would punch straight through the bone. It’d tear through Alpha’s flesh, destroy the heart muscle, punch through the bones on the other side before erupting through his chest to leave an orange-sized exit wound and a hell of a lot of his insides on the floor.
Alpha would be dead before he hit the stone steps.
‘Pink!’ Blue shouted out.
Angel pulled the trigger. Or, at least, her finger was moving back, beyond the resistance, initiating the shot. But in the split-second motion, she felt air moving against her cheek. Cold air. Not from the breeze. Something else.
The round fired with a jolt, Angel rolled away, looking up, behind her position as she moved.
She saw a man. Black clothes. He held a gun in his hand which he fired as she reached down to her side.
The bullet cracked into the concrete next to her, so close she felt it whizzing past. Concrete fragments stung her cheek, dust caught in her nose and mouth. Angel pulled out her handgun as voices rattled in her ear. She took a rushed aim before firing. She hit the man’s hand, or maybe just the gun, which flew from his grasp as he growled in pain or anger. She’d not aimed there but for his head. A kill shot. One of the few places she’d get one as she could see from the bulk beneath his sweater that he had a tactical vest on.
She fired again but the man stooped down at the same moment and the bullet missed. Before she could fire another shot his foot swung out and kicked the gun from her grip. He dove for her, knife swinging down to her chest. She flung her hands up, wrists crisscrossed to catch his flying arm.
Angel winced, strained with effort as the knife came to within an inch of her chest.
The attacker pushed down, the knife edging closer. He was too strong for her. He doubled his grip on the knife and it felt like her arms would snap from the force as he pushed down harder, harder.
Angel gave up, pulled her arms down, pulled to the side as much as she could at the same time and the knife plummeted down, the man unable
to adjust his aim in time with her movement. The blade sliced across her shoulder. Better for her than what he’d intended. She ignored the rush of pain and hauled a knee up which smacked into the man’s lower back. Not enough to hurt him or to get him off but at least enough to unbalance him a little before he unleashed a killer blow.
But she had a knife too. She pulled it from the strap on her ankle. Lifted her left arm to block his second attempt then thrust her knife up, under his chin. She roared with effort as she did so and the blade slid into his head with a suck and a squelch, leaving nothing but the handle protruding. His eyes bulged, he gargled, the blade of the knife through his throat making the noise sound surreal, alien. She lifted her knee again and roared once more as she turned over, tossing him off her in the process. The knife came free and a spray of blood spattered her face and chest causing her to flinch. She wiped at the blood as she heaved heavy breaths.
‘Pink, damn it, what’s going on?’ C shouted. Not for the first time. The voices in her ear had continued through the fight but she’d had no chance to respond.
‘I’m outta here,’ Blue said before a click to show he’d disconnected.
‘Packing up. See you on the other side,’ Red said. Another click.
‘Pink, what is happening?’
‘I… I…’
The man next to her twitched as blood gushed. She rolled further away from him, to the rifle. Put her eye to the scope.
‘No!’ she cried out in shock as she stared at the group of people outside the hotel. To the man – Alpha – cradling a small, limp, bloody
bundle like a rag doll.
‘Pink? What the hell have you done?’
She didn’t answer. Instead, she focused on the sound of the sirens, right below her.
‘Pink, you need to—’
She didn’t hear the rest of the sentence before she pulled the earbud out and stuffed it in her pocket. She tried her best to bury the image of the bloody scene from the hotel front. She wasn’t sure she could.
With the sirens multiplying, closing in, she left the rifle and the dead man in place, jumped to her feet, and rushed for the door.
London, England
The hundreds of thousands of twinkling lights of the city stretched far into the distance, morphing into an indistinct orange glow at the horizon. James Ryker sucked in cool, cold air as he took in the cityscape. With no clouds in the sky, the temperature had dropped close to zero since nightfall. He exhaled and watched his breath swirl into the darkness above him.
Then he grasped the railing and jumped over it to perch on the very edge of the balcony.
Teetering, fourteen stories up, the world down below looked dizzyingly distant. He turned to face the building and shuffled along, only the tips of his toes touching the concrete, his gloved hands on the metal railing stopping him from toppling. The balcony of the neighboring apartment sat five feet away, a sheer drop in between. ...
