hairier than a rat’s arsehole out there. Looks like they’re gearing up for a siege. Reckoning whoever did this is going to want to take a whole bunch more people out.’
‘Yeah, well they’re wrong,’ Danny said. ‘This was a hit. There’s no more casualties here inside. The people who did this have gone.’
‘OK, sit tight,’ said the Kid. ‘I’m trawling the council planning offices for the hotel floor plans.’ There was the rapid scratch and hiss of a cigarette being lit. ‘There’s gotta be another way out.’
The Kid’s voice had become garbled. Fractional delays had started punctuating his words.
‘What’s wrong with the line?’ Danny said.
‘I’m routeing us through an encryption filter. To make sure nobody’s earwigging on what we’ve got to say. We’re going to be jumping between networks from now on too. Just to keep us one step ahead.’
Danny was already moving. This rest room was a dead end. He switched the glass shard from his pocket for a telescopic mirror- on-a -stick from his rucksack. Convex-lensed. SWAT issue.
He guzzled from the tap. Didn’t know when he’d get a chance again. Didn’t bother washing his hands. It was going to take more than designer liquid soap to get that gunshot residue out of his pores.
He pulled a pair of neoprene SPECOPS gloves from his rucksack. As he held the rest room door ajar, the mirror gave him a fish-eye view of the corridor outside. Quiet as a church on Monday.
He slipped out through the doorway. Three metres to the right, he reached a crossroads. The corridors branching off it were deserted. He crouched down and watched and waited, as the Kid continued to type.
‘So what the hell happened up there, Danny?’ The Kid’s voice crackled down the line.
Danny ordered the events in his mind.
‘I got Tasered, then drugged. I woke up with a high-powered assault rifle strapped to my hands. Dressed in a red tracksuit, balaclava and Nikes. Next to a dead guy whose face and fingers had been hacked off. But it wasn’t until I stepped out on to the hotel balcony and saw those massacred people out there that I realized how totally fucked I was.’
‘Jesus, Danny. That was you out there? Gazing round like you’d just beamed down from Mars?’
‘Sounds like I made quite an impression.’
‘Too fucking right. And I only caught a glimpse. Had to get back to concentrating the hell on weaving my way out of that traffic, before it jammed up for good.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘An alleyway up the other side of Knightsbridge.’
Good news at last , Danny thought. Because if the Kid had already slipped the police net, he’d be able to work uninterrupted on Danny’s behalf.
‘Did you see the shooting?’ Danny said.
‘Couldn’t exactly miss it, the way they went about it. Trust me, Danny. Covert is not their middle fucking name. There were two of them. Red tracksuits. Balaclavas. They rained down on that limo from the second it pulled up. Turned it into a sieve. Then started wasting the people on the pavements who were trying to get away. Just taking fucking potshots. Blowing them all to hell.’
Danny pictured the civilian bodies again. Their brightly coloured clothes. The sheer fucking wrongness of it all.
‘And that’s the last you saw of them? Out on the balcony?’
‘Me and everyone else. I’ve been listening in on the police channels and they’ve not picked up anyone they think did it yet. Word is there’s over twenty civilians who got killed, as well as whoever the fuck was in that limo.’
‘The shooters were Russians,’ Danny said. ‘Or Russian-sounding, anyway.’
‘What about your dead guy in the room? You got any idea about him?’
‘I found a data stick and swipe card on him. But the card’s pretty messed up. Covered in ink.’
‘You let me worry about that.’
‘It could have been left there on purpose. For the cops.’
‘Or not,’ said the Kid. ‘Only way to find out is to let me have a
‘Yeah, well they’re wrong,’ Danny said. ‘This was a hit. There’s no more casualties here inside. The people who did this have gone.’
‘OK, sit tight,’ said the Kid. ‘I’m trawling the council planning offices for the hotel floor plans.’ There was the rapid scratch and hiss of a cigarette being lit. ‘There’s gotta be another way out.’
The Kid’s voice had become garbled. Fractional delays had started punctuating his words.
‘What’s wrong with the line?’ Danny said.
‘I’m routeing us through an encryption filter. To make sure nobody’s earwigging on what we’ve got to say. We’re going to be jumping between networks from now on too. Just to keep us one step ahead.’
Danny was already moving. This rest room was a dead end. He switched the glass shard from his pocket for a telescopic mirror- on-a -stick from his rucksack. Convex-lensed. SWAT issue.
He guzzled from the tap. Didn’t know when he’d get a chance again. Didn’t bother washing his hands. It was going to take more than designer liquid soap to get that gunshot residue out of his pores.
He pulled a pair of neoprene SPECOPS gloves from his rucksack. As he held the rest room door ajar, the mirror gave him a fish-eye view of the corridor outside. Quiet as a church on Monday.
He slipped out through the doorway. Three metres to the right, he reached a crossroads. The corridors branching off it were deserted. He crouched down and watched and waited, as the Kid continued to type.
‘So what the hell happened up there, Danny?’ The Kid’s voice crackled down the line.
Danny ordered the events in his mind.
‘I got Tasered, then drugged. I woke up with a high-powered assault rifle strapped to my hands. Dressed in a red tracksuit, balaclava and Nikes. Next to a dead guy whose face and fingers had been hacked off. But it wasn’t until I stepped out on to the hotel balcony and saw those massacred people out there that I realized how totally fucked I was.’
‘Jesus, Danny. That was you out there? Gazing round like you’d just beamed down from Mars?’
‘Sounds like I made quite an impression.’
‘Too fucking right. And I only caught a glimpse. Had to get back to concentrating the hell on weaving my way out of that traffic, before it jammed up for good.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘An alleyway up the other side of Knightsbridge.’
Good news at last , Danny thought. Because if the Kid had already slipped the police net, he’d be able to work uninterrupted on Danny’s behalf.
‘Did you see the shooting?’ Danny said.
‘Couldn’t exactly miss it, the way they went about it. Trust me, Danny. Covert is not their middle fucking name. There were two of them. Red tracksuits. Balaclavas. They rained down on that limo from the second it pulled up. Turned it into a sieve. Then started wasting the people on the pavements who were trying to get away. Just taking fucking potshots. Blowing them all to hell.’
Danny pictured the civilian bodies again. Their brightly coloured clothes. The sheer fucking wrongness of it all.
‘And that’s the last you saw of them? Out on the balcony?’
‘Me and everyone else. I’ve been listening in on the police channels and they’ve not picked up anyone they think did it yet. Word is there’s over twenty civilians who got killed, as well as whoever the fuck was in that limo.’
‘The shooters were Russians,’ Danny said. ‘Or Russian-sounding, anyway.’
‘What about your dead guy in the room? You got any idea about him?’
‘I found a data stick and swipe card on him. But the card’s pretty messed up. Covered in ink.’
‘You let me worry about that.’
‘It could have been left there on purpose. For the cops.’
‘Or not,’ said the Kid. ‘Only way to find out is to let me have a
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