“And what might that be?”
“You can let Tatiana go. She has nothing to do with this — nothing at all. Let her walk away from here.”
“Oh, I’m afraid I dispute that, my friend!” Said Kirill dryly, his intelligent eyes glinting in the overhead lighting. “She is not an innocent, at all, Mr Dillon. Tatiana is not only the niece of Ezra, but she is one of us. Has been from the very start…”
Chapter 19
Wind and rain kicked up from the Scottish valley below, whipping Alix like a cat-of-nine-tails, the ledge that he was standing on, no more than six inches wide. A tiny figure looking out over an infinite void, down into a wide maw that would willingly devour him should he fall! Alix moved sideways, shuffling his boots, remaining fully focused, ensuring his foot-hold remained firmly on the ledge.
Clouds the colour of coal rushed past in a flurry of wind and rain.
Cold drops stung his eyes, and he blinked them free.
His heart was thundering in his chest.
After leaving the winch-house, they were confronted by a detail of six security guards, who were cut down with surgical precision. Heavy army issue boots could be heard running towards them; they split up, the Priest seeking sanctuary within the network of service tunnels that formed part of the original SAS training complex; and Alix heading for the elements outside.
Alix glanced right and could see the Priest, who had appeared out of the ventilation shaft network, and was now crouched by a large stack of fifty gallon drums. He caught sight of Alix and gave him a signal to; wait!
He then felt, more than saw, the Priest start to move out of his hiding place; thinking something was dreadfully wrong, Alix remained perfectly still, boots firmly rooted to the narrow ledge.
Alix then saw the activity inside the landing bay. The Priest pulled from inside his three-quarter length leather coat, a sawn-off multi-shot shotgun. The cartridges loaded with a heavier gauge lead and capable of bringing down an elephant at thirty paces.
Alix licked his lips, tasting sweat beneath his sodden balaclava. His arms were starting to feel the real weight of the MP5 carbine he was cradling, and his legs were beginning to go numb with the cold and tension. He glanced down, past the narrow ledge. A tiny demon in his mind mocked him: what if he lost his concentration, even for a split second and — slipped? What if the Assassins spot him? What if they start shooting at him?
Alix smiled. The wind buffeted him. Rain stung his eyes. I wouldn’t give any of this up for anything, he thought.
The Priest signalled him, and then started to move slowly forward. There were perhaps eight Assassins positioned at strategic points around the landing area, some were concentrated around the entrance to the facility. Black-clad figures biding their time, he assumed they were deciding what course of action to take next, to obtain access to the main reception area.
With muscles screaming, Alix drew round the Heckler & Koch MP5, flicking off the safety. With his right hand he signalled to the Priest that he was ready. The Priest acknowledged, replacing his small leather bound Bible to the inside breast pocket of his coat.
They both moved together, Alix slipped over the rampart and landed next to a pile of crates at the edge of the landing bay. He kept to a low crouch, moving forward, all the time watching the Priest for instructions.
Alix’s brain began calculating; eight Assassins and three security guards…
The Priest had also spotted the security guards, motioning for Alix to deal with them…
Machine-gun fire rattled, to the left. And then, all hell was let loose, the large glass panels fronting the facility’s main reception area exploded, Alix immediately reacted by cutting down the three security guards with one sweep of the MP5. The Priest was doing God’s work on the other side of the landing bay, killing four out of the eight Assassins in the blink-of-an-eye. The four surviving Assassins all charged through the now open doorway into the facility’s reception area.
Alix dived, hitting the ground heavily on his front as bullets whizzed past his head, and he rolled, his own weapon kicking in his grip, rain pounding him. From somewhere to his right, he could hear the thwack of heavy calibre rounds being fired; not daring to look up for fear of having his head shot off. The Priest appeared at Alix’s side, “Are you hit?”
“No man, just felt like a lay down for five minutes.”
Bullets continued to ricochet off of the stone rampart just above their heads, the shooter positioned above them on the far side of the landing bay.
The Priest lifted his MP5 above his head and emptied a full magazine in a wide arc. Alix shuffled forward to get himself into a better firing position, but the shooter had anticipated his move and was taking single pot-shots at him. He cursed this sudden turn of luck, and then returned the fire, exactly as the Priest had by emptying a full magazine directly at him or her…
How the hell had they missed this one?
All of the other Assassins and security guards had left with the Chinooks. This one must have been stationed at one of the observation points on the mountain.
It didn’t matter now — all that mattered were the bullets! They snapped past him. Alix emptiedanother magazine and allowedit to fall free; it clattered onto the ground, bouncing once on the wet surface. The Priest was at Alix’s side, the two men stayed low as they sprinted across the open space of the landing bay. More bullets howled past them, Alix wrestled a fresh mag into his weapon, flicking it around so that his arm snapped out, holding the sub-machine gun like a pistol.
“You want to fuck with me?” He screamed; sighting on the position of the shooter, as the fusillade of bullets tried to snuff out its lights.
Alix unleashed the awesome power of the Heckler & Koch MP5 and bullets streamed across the landing bay and ate a line across the fifty-gallon drums. Av-Gas immediately started to leak out and creep across the ground, heading straight towards — the Priest and Alix.
Alix met the Priest’s gaze for the briefest instant; there was madness there, and anger, and strength. And then both men jumped over the rampart, bullets chasing their heels, igniting the lake of aviation fuel that had spread around the landing bay. An explosion, and then another, and another, as the fifty-gallon drums started to explode and flames billowed and shards of hot metal hurtled through the thick black smoke that was consuming the entire landing area.
Even before the two men had gone over the rampart, Alix had the pistol in his right hand, was firing a piton attached to a fine reinforced line into the solid rock of the landing bay roof and the karabiner attached to Alix’s bullet proof vest was now supporting both of them from a certain death far below.
The entire landing bay was ablaze with flames licking every granite surface.
And then the fire died as quickly as it had been born.
Alix engaged the pistol’s motor-drive and the line started to reel itself in, and they started to ascend back up to the ledge. As the two men were almost there a black clad figure peered over the rampart in search of them — Alix fired three bullets into the Assassin’s face, and the killer dropped without a sound. Alix flicked his gaze left, and the Priest had gone.
He sidled over the rampart and then halted, dropping to a crouch, noxious smelling smoke swirling around him. And then he heard the sound of machine guns, with an immediate stream of return fire. There were two thuds as bodies slapped to the hard stone ground. Alix ran to crouch beside the wall, eyes scanning; the shadows and the drifting smoke his new-found friends. Before him the open entrance of the facility, a gaping gash where the armour plated glass wall had once been, everything bathed in a gloom and murkiness.