“It looks good,” Melissa said, stepping across to join me. “We’ll get the new hazmat team to check them, though. To make sure they’re the real deal. In the meantime, we just have to flush the other two out of that building. Then we can see about scooping up their contacts, like you suggested.”
Melissa asked me to keep an eye on the two prisoners. It didn’t seem like too hard a job. Neither had regained consciousness, and both had been dragged into the space between the wall and the van and were lying on their backs, secured at the wrists and ankles with flexicuffs. She checked that the four agents were still in place on the far side of the compound. Then she approached the building, a pair of agents fanned out on either side of her, and signaled for the helicopter to descend to a level where its rotor blades were clearly audible.
“Armed police,” the pilot said, his voice amplified through the speakers on the outside of his aircraft. “The building is surrounded. Throw your weapons through the main door, and come out with your hands in the air. You have thirty seconds.”
Melissa kept her Sig trained on the door. The other agents covered the windows on either side, methodically scanning the six windows on each of the three floors.
No one showed themselves.
“I repeat,” the pilot said. “Armed police. We have you surrounded. This is your last chance to surrender. Leave the building immediately. If we have to come in after you, we will shoot on sight.”
Five more seconds crept past in silence, then I saw the agents stiffen. I heard footsteps. They were coming from the main doorway to the building. There were two sets. They hesitated, then stopped altogether. An object flew through the air and crashed on the ground. A handgun. It was followed by a second one. Then the footsteps started again, and two men shuffled reluctantly into the courtyard, one in front of the other.
“Good,” Melissa said, taking a step towards them. “Now, get on the ground. Face down. Hands behind your heads. Do it now.”
Neither man moved.
“Face down, on the ground,” Melissa said, raising her Sig and lining it up on the closer man’s forehead. “You can do it while you’re still breathing. Or while you’re not. Either way works for me.”
“Wait,” he said, taking a half step forward. “Please.”
“Stop,” Melissa said. “Get on the ground.”
“I will,” he said. “I will. We surrender. We’re unarmed. But please, listen to me first. There’s something you need to know. About what we took from the hospital. It’s urgent. I swear. We’re in danger. All of us.”
“Why?”
“Those big flasks?” he said, inching a little closer to Melissa. “They’re not stable. They’ve been sabotaged.”
“How?” she said. “When? By whom?”
“Before we left the room, in the hospital. The driver did it. He’s the technician.”
“What did he do?”
“Attached some device.”
“What kind of device?”
“It’s on a timer. The people who are supposed to meet us have a key to deactivate it. A radio thing. But if they don’t do it by...”
The guy raised his left arm as if to check his watch, and when it was at chest height he sprang forward, reaching for Melissa’s throat. I expected her to shoot him on the spot but instead she swatted away his outstretched arms and drove the heel of her left hand into his jaw, knocking him flat on his back.
“How about you?” she said to the second man. “Have you got any urgent information for me, too?”
The guy shook his head and got down on his knees. He paused, then pivoted as if to lie down. But instead of hitting the ground, he used the momentum he’d created to close the gap with Melissa, regain his feet, coil one arm around her neck, wrap the other around her waist, and spin her round to shield him from the other agents’ Sigs.
“Give me your gun,” the guy said to Melissa.
She dropped the weapon and kicked it away.
The guy tightened his grip around Melissa’s neck and reached into his overall pocket with his other hand. He withdrew it a moment later and stretched his arm straight out to the side. His fingers were clenched around a narrow, white tube and his thumb was pressed hard against the top end.
“That was stupid,” he said. “You’ve forced me to do this. Now all our lives are on the line, not just yours. Tell your people to drop their pistols.”
Melissa didn’t respond.
I looked down at the two guys tied up next to the van. They were both still completely inert, so I tucked my Beretta into the back of my jeans, reached through the door, and picked up one of the handguns the agents had recovered when they’d entered the compound.
“Your weapons, gentlemen,” the guy holding Melissa said. “On the ground. Quickly.”
The agents who’d been on either side of Melissa remained still, but the two on the outside of the line started to move forward, looking for a clearer shot. It was an obvious ploy, though, and the guy responded by dragging Melissa backwards until his back was safely pressed against the wall of the building.
“OK,” he said. “No more second chances. You see what I’m holding? It’s a remote trigger. You see my thumb is pressing the button? That means the system is armed. If I let go - boom. There’ll be clouds of caesium over half of South London. Is that what you want?”
The agents stopped moving.
“Good,” the guy said. “So, this is what I want. Put your guns on the ground, now. Then back off, and do not interfere while this nice lady and I get into the van and drive away. And when we’re gone, do not call anyone for thirty minutes. Remember the button. If I see anyone following, I’ll let go.”
The agents stayed where they were and showed no sign of lowering their weapons, so I stepped out from the shadow of the van. I was holding the borrowed Colt out to my side at shoulder height, with its grip between my finger and thumb.
“It’s OK, lads,” I said, throwing the gun down in front of me. “Do as he says.”
It took a few seconds, but eventually the agents’ Sigs rattled to the ground.
“Everyone, stay calm,” I said, then turned to the guy holding Melissa. “We’ve done what you asked. No one’s armed, and no one’s going to do anything stupid. You’re free to take the van. But how about this? Take me with you, instead of her?”
“No chance,” the guy said. “I’m taking her.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “There’s no problem. You can take her. We’re not going to call anyone, when you do. And no one’s going to follow you, so there’s no need for anyone to get hurt. OK?”
“OK.”
“Good. Now look, we’re giving you what you want. Everything you asked for. But I just have one thing to ask in return. Later, when you’re in the wind and we recover the vehicle, our people will have to make it safe. So can you tell me, are all the canisters booby-trapped? Or just some of them?”
He didn’t answer.
“We could always leave it an hour before we call this in,” I said. “Give you twice as long to get away. It would be worth it to know what we’re dealing with when we get our hands back on that van. And no one would ever know you’d told us anything.”