Sam fought with the key, trying to get it into the lock. When that battle was won he twisted the key and the lock reluctantly sprung open. He pushed the door inwards, a loud creak broke the silence. He stepped in and switched on the light. A layer of dust covered everything.
The place was a mess. Sam’s trophies had been left on the floor, as had his grading certificates and various small weapons. He wasn’t bothered by the mess. He’d be moving. No doubt about it.
He stood in the doorway and turned to look back at the house. So many good memories were running through his head. Barbeques in the summer. Family and friends laughing and drinking, singing and playing silly party games. The long summer evenings he and Julia had simply sat outside and shared a bottle of wine. The summer just gone should have been a time for playing with Jack, but Raynor had put an end to that.
Sam’s phone beeped and he was suddenly pulled back to the present. It was a text notification. He’d spoken to all his family and friends, so wasn’t expecting to hear from anybody else.
Shit, texts on Christmas morning. Do these people ever give up? He thought as he unlocked the phone and tapped the icon for his messaging app. He froze when he saw the message.
Congratulations! You’ve won a prize. Don’t Reply. Your prize will be delivered in the next few minutes. Happy Christmas, Sam.
‘Shit!’
He dropped his phone and sprinted for the house. Bounding through the patio door he slammed into the small table.
He ran into the dining-room, making Julia jump. She was wiping her eyes with a tissue, trying to pull herself together so that she could enjoy the rest of the day with her family. She wanted to make the most of what could be their last Christmas together.
‘Sam?’ She asked.
‘Get outside, get in the summer house.’
‘But… what’s going on?’
‘Just do it, Jules. Now!’
Sam ran into the living room where Jack was stood looking toward the dining-room doors. Sam’s shouting had scared him. He’d never heard his Dad shout like that before. His shoulders started to shudder and be burst into tears.
Sam grabbed Jack and headed back through the double doors to the dining-room. Julia had found her feet and was exiting through the patio door.
The house shook as the blast hit it. Through instinct more than anything else, Sam dived; covering Jack, making sure his son would be safe. Julia had made it into the summer house.
To the front of the house the Lotus was lifted four feet into the air as it was consumed by a fireball. The windows on the front of the house had all been blown in by the explosives that had been placed inside the car via a slit in its canvas roof. A slit that had been made just a few minutes earlier by a Ka-Bar knife.
Author’s Notes
I know, I’ve made a lot of stuff up. But it’s a work of fiction, so I’m allowed. The Shard layout in particular was changed to give Culpepper Fostervold office space higher up the structure. The service lifts and hotel lobby were my own designs, purely to allow Raynor to play his games. Tidworth Garrison, while not described in any great detail, was architected in my head, as was the interior of Thames House along with its imaginary underground carpark.
The Frequency Redundancy File was fabricated as a way of finding out Raynor had been in the system. It might exist. Though it would be a fluke if it does.
And though I paid a visit to HMS Belfast, which is well worth seeing, by the way, the layout was far too large and complex to make a long trek through it a viable option. I wanted to make those final paragraphs quite tense, but I didn’t want them to drag on, as I was sure you, the reader, would be eager to learn Raynor’s fate. Sorry about that.
I invented the messaging tubes as a way for Raynor to get a bomb below the waterline. They may exist, though I didn’t notice them. I highly recommend a visit to the vessel if you’re in London, its history is quite fascinating, and a few of the mannequins are a little scary.
During the breach of the take-away, and when Raynor was at Battersea Power Station, all call-signs and tactics were made up, with the exception of Trojan-One which is an Armed Response Vehicle call-sign, and the helicopter call-sign India Nine-Eight.
I’m sure there are more.
I’ve had a great time creating these characters and situations, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them. Book two has been started (the first chapter of which can be found after the copyright notices) so Sam and the gang will return for more over-the-top action, a lot of laughs, and a great plot.
See you then.
Acknowledgements
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. Now comes the time to thank a few people. I’m a little worried about this bit, as there are so many people who have had an impact on the writing of this book that I’m paranoid about forgetting someone. If I have forgotten you, I sincerely apologise. Feel free to berate me on your social media platform of choice.
At times it looked like this was going to end up being just another failed attempt at a career change, but people like Sara Culpepper and Jackie Atkins kept poking and prodding to ensure I kept writing, so I thank you both for the sharpness of your sticks. Thank you Sara, for the late night texts full of excited expletives. I apologise for the increased blood pressure. To Jackie, I thank you for never doubting me, for the encouraging words every step of the way, and for keeping the fridge at work well stocked with Maltesers.
My gorgeous wife, Charlotte, obviously played a major part. Her stick may not have been as sharp as Sara’s or Jackie’s, for she'd witnessed my prior attempts at a career change, all of which had fallen by the wayside, so her scepticism was well founded. But she always encouraged me to carry on and didn't mind the long nights I spent at the keyboard. Charlotte and our nipper, Oliver, are the real reasons I've written this book. I love you both.
There are those who gave up so much of their time to read the same thing time and again, the brilliant proof-readers, who offered opinion and pointed out my appalling grammar and spelling when Google Docs had given up on me: Sam Culpepper, Tony Ruscoe and Zavina Latif never tired of pointing out my mistakes. Sara and Jackie are more than worthy of a mention here, too. I truly appreciate your effort.
Then there are those whose names I borrowed, as coming up with character names is one of the hardest things in the world, for me.
I haven’t seen some of these people for years, but for some reason, their names seemed to pop into my head when I needed them and they fit the character in some way. So in no particular order: Simon Purver, Roger Sykes, Jamie Jones, Matt Culpepper, Joseph Fostervold, Jamie Bray, Grant Benjamin, Michelle Upex, Martin Roper, Nick Upex, Neil Barford, Zavina Latif, Andrew Bush, Alasdair Storry, Robert Horton, Darrell Whitehall, Gareth Jones, Jackie Atkins, Kevin Markwick, Neil Saltmarsh.
To everyone I’ve ever been drunk with: You and I are Dave Sykes!
Last, but by no means least, those who rallied around my call to arms and hit the share button on social media. These people are some of the most important, as they helped to spread word of the book around an extremely saturated internet. Again, in no particular order, big thanks go to:
Tracey Knatt, Gareth Jones, Sara Culpepper, Zavina Latif, Matt Culpepper, Jamie Bray, Tony Ruscoe, Charlotte Smart, Jackie Atkins, Sam Culpepper, Lloyd Culpepper. Apologies if I’ve forgotten anybody.