A knock at the door signalled room service coffee and in Beaumont’s case a slice of chocolate cake.
“Get that David. I’m going to log on.” Beaumont sat at the standard hotel room writing desk, his laptop on the blotter. The start up sequence began and he plugged the cell phone in. At the door David took the tray and thanked the porter.
“Do you ever stop eating?”
“No, but what worries me at the moment is that I’ve not been working out.”
David put the coffee and cake on the table and walked to the window.
“They’re out there somewhere.”
“Hopefully we’ll have a sighting in a minute.” Beaumont said, logged onto the system and sipped his coffee. With no hand free he eyed the cake with anticipation.
“My father lives in Motherwell. I told my wife I might drop by. If we have a moment could we take a drive out there?”
Beaumont slammed the laptop shut and pulled his Sig out and checked the status; he cocked it and put the safety on.
“We’re taking a ride now. Wheeler’s been spotted at the Buchanon Bus station, it was around eight am, but Lawton the spotter said he’d keep watching.”
David pulled out his phone and tried to call the armed police on the way to the lifts, but he lost signal as the phone rang and they entered the lift.
In the lift Beaumont looked at him.
“I’m driving.” Beaumont said flatly.
“Okay.”
“My God David I can’t see why you got so flustered over driving.”
“It’s my weak spot. Everyone’s got a weak spot.”
“I haven’t.” Beaumont replied.
“Yes you have. It’s food. I bet you’re thinking of that cake in the room.”
“Okay, but being constantly hungry is manly. Being a crap driver that’s… well it’s…”
“What?” The lift opened onto the lobby.
“Bizarre in a man like you that’s all.” Beaumont replied.
They were quickly in the car and on their way to the bus station. David rang the police again and finally got through. It was hard making himself understood. The conversation halted when he was finally put on hold waiting to talk to armed response.
“You know where it is?” David asked.
“Yes I do. Five minutes away. I checked.”
“Do you think he’s still there?” David asked.
“The e-mail was after nine this morning and Lawton the local DIC spotter said Wheeler got there after eight fifteen, then left; he says the next London bus is eleven. You could check your laptop for an update see if he’s come back.”
“I didn’t bring it.”
“Damn it David. Are you awake today?” Beaumont said angrily.
“I’m okay, a little shaken by last night that’s all.”
“It’s not amateur night David. We’re after hired killers now focus.”
Armed response answered the phone and Beaumont turned onto Killermont Street, the bus station was mere yards away.
David got out of the car first. The Bus station was busy and they were illegally parked. Beaumont joined him.
“Did you check your gun this morning?”
David shook his head.
“Well you had better find a quiet spot to do it, don’t want to scare the natives. Nip into the toilet and use a cubicle.”
They began walking for the toilets together they were nearly there when Beaumont stopped and looked over at the National Express coach.
“That’ll be his target vehicle. I’ll wait here and watch.”
David walked into the toilet, pushing back the heavy door to find all the cubicles busy. Suddenly there was a man just coming out of a cubicle. David took in the lines of the face as the man passed him, it didn’t quite look like Wheeler. He thought himself edgy, shrugged and pushed the door open on the cubicle that the man had just left. He saw the white bag with the abandoned clothes, but straight away it was the glasses, dimly visible, but pressed against the plastic, that did it for him. Anyone might change clothes, buts no-one left their glasses behind. He rushed back to the door and outside drawing his Sig as he came out.
Wheeler was walking towards the National Express coach and was just level with Beaumont.
“Stay where you are Wheeler! Beaumont it’s Wheeler!” David shouted.
Beaumont spun round trying to draw his weapon, but Wheeler was too close. Wheeler gripped the gun hand just as the Sig cleared the holster and pressed it to Beaumont’s chest. David daren’t shoot with them both in such a tangle and daren’t get close to help as he wanted to back Beaumont up with a clear shot if needed.
There was a muffled crack and Beaumont’s face creased in pain, legs giving way and folding under him he dropped to the floor, Wheeler pulling the gun from his grip as he did so. There were screams and shouts from bus passengers and in the noise David heard sirens approaching.
David stood pointing his weapon like a duellist, side on for a smaller target.
“Drop it Wheeler!” David shouted, suppressing the fear inside and trying not to look at Beaumont stricken on the ground. McKie steeled himself.
Wheeler’s arm came arcing up away from Beaumont and in a back hand, but before the muzzle was on target McKie squeezed the trigger. He aimed for the head and his round struck Wheeler dead centre of the forehead knocking him back, eyes blinded by the smashing of the brain as the bullet ripped through and came out the other side; he fell backwards, no arms out, and smacked flat backed onto the course way in front of the coach, head two feet from the passenger doors.
The Sig 220 rail had clattered to the floor right by its owner. Beaumont lay on the tarmac hand to his chest air rasping in and out quickly his face bearing the concentration it was taking to do the simple task of breathing.
McKie stepped over Wheeler and checked his pulse. He couldn’t help but see the ragged hole in the head the bullet had rent. Wheeler twitched, eyes glazed and the pulse was weak. McKie picked up the pistol and put it in his jacket pocket as he squatted down by Beaumont.
“Jack! Jack! Can you hear me?” Beaumont looked up and nodded. McKie called out to no-one in particular. “Is there an ambulance on the way?”
“Armed police drop the weapon stand up and step away facing me hands in the air. Do it now!” was the answer he got to his question.
David looked into Beaumont’s eyes “You’ll be alright no?”
Beaumont’s eyes in a pain and fear filled place of their own gave him no answer and David felt the danger of the police weapons pointed at him. He took a last look in Beaumont’s eyes and then did exactly as he was told.
Once up he noted the three police vehicles and with relief the arrival of an ambulance, pre called by the armed response team. Officers made their way to Beaumont and another checked Wheeler. David allowed himself to be manhandled and he was made to lie on the ground. He was frisked, the two Sig’s taken and his pass pulled out. The pass was handed to a senior officer who looked very closely at his pass.
David looked up, neck only able to move, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back.
“I’m a civil servant! I have diplomatic immunity; check the pass. My friend the black guy he has the same.” Beaumont was being loaded into an ambulance and the police man wasn’t going to hold up his rapid journey to Stobhill.
“We’ll see about that. I don’t know if you or the dead man over there called us. So you’re going to have to come with me.”
“For God’s sake!” David shouted.
The policeman leaned down.
“I had that Wheeler in the bag at Stobhill yesterday, but he knocked out my constable and got away. I’m going to be very sure of who I let go and give a weapon to today I can tell you laddie.”
McKie nodded it made sense. He was helped up and put in the back of the police car. Forensic teams arrived and that part of the bus station was sealed off, including, unfortunately for the bus passengers, the toilets.