Stephen Leather - The Hunting

The first man locked eyes with Bell and he said something to the man behind him. The second man looked up and Bell realised it was one of the jihadists. The white one. Bell reached for his gun. He brought it up but before he could fire the man’s carbine kicked and three rounds buried themselves in the grass by his feet. Bell dived to the side, came up on one knee and fired two quick shots. He was unlucky and both ricocheted off the bars of the gate.

The carbine fired again but Bell dived and rolled, and he was able to use the gatehouse as cover. He ran towards the building, bent at the waist.

CHAPTER 68

‘Did you get him?’ asked Raj. He was pulling at the body of the guard he’d shot, trying to get the key to open the gate.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Sid. ‘He’s behind the building.’

‘Keep an eye out, I’m an easy target here.’

Raj managed to grab the key card. It was attached to a chain but he pulled it hard and the chain came away from whatever it had been attached to. He tapped it against the card reader and the lock clicked.

As he pushed the gate open with his left hand, the hinges of the gate squeaked and the man appeared from behind the gatehouse. Raj recognised him immediately – it was the grey-haired man with the hook, the one who had seemed to be in charge.

Raj fired two quick shots and the man ducked back. He kept his Glock trained on the wall where the man had been and motioned for Sid to step through the gate. They both moved forward cautiously. Raj waved for Sid to go wide. Sid had a Heckler and the grey-haired man had a handgun so firepower was on their side.

They shuffled forward. Raj’s heart was pounding; he knew that he would have to react instantly. He turned his head from side to side, listening intently.

Sid had the better viewpoint and Raj looked over at him. Sid gave a small shake of his head. Raj frowned. Sid was only a few feet from the corner of the wall so he should already be able to see around it. He took a step to the side, keeping low. He looked at Sid again. Sid had his Heckler up against his shoulder, crouching as he moved forward. The Heckler was trembling in Sid’s hands, his finger tight on the trigger.

Sid took a deep breath and Raj realised he was about to charge forward. He opened his mouth to tell him to hold back but it was too late, he was already past the point of no return. Raj moved forward with him.

Sid stepped around the corner and immediately fired two three-shot bursts. Raj rounded the corner, swinging his gun around, but there was no one there. ‘Did you see him?’ he asked Sid.

Sid shook his head. ‘I just fired. Better safe than sorry.’

Raj looked over at the main house. It was too far away for the grey-haired man to have reached it. He’d either gone inside the gatehouse or taken cover at the other end of the building. He waved for Sid to approach the doorway. He held his Glock with both hands as he moved forward. As the door came into view he could see inside. There was a high-backed chair and a number of large monitors showing views from the CCTV cameras covering the estate.

Sid shuffled into Raj’s line of fire and Raj hissed at him. Sid turned to look at him, frowning. Raj opened his mouth to say something but before he could the grey-haired man appeared from around the corner of the building. He fired immediately, two quick shots, both of which hit Sid in the vest. Sid roared in pain and swung his Heckler around but the man was already firing again and the second double tap blew away Sid’s face. Blood splattered across Raj’s arm. He tried to get a bead on the man but Sid was still in the way.

Raj ducked to the left as Sid’s legs collapsed. He was low when he fired and his shot hit the man in the leg, just above the knee. The leg buckled and it threw off his aim so the two shots he fired both ricocheted off the gatehouse wall.

Sid hit the ground and his carbine slipped from his grasp. The grey-haired man took aim again and Raj dashed for the gatehouse doorway. As he reached it two more shots thudded into the wall above his head. Raj turned and took aim. There was a sudden look of panic in the man’s face as he realised he was out in the open. He fired again and a round whizzed by Raj’s head and buried itself into the wall inside the gatehouse. Raj had the Glock in his right hand and the position he was in meant he couldn’t get his left hand up to support it. He aimed it as best he could and began pulling the trigger. The first shot went wide, to the right, and the second one went high.

The man returned fire with two shots, one of which nicked the material of Raj’s shirt. Raj had to fight the urge to duck for cover; he knew that his best chance of survival was to keep firing. He fired a quick double tap and both rounds thudded into the man’s chest. The man took two small steps back and fired but the shot went way high. Raj fired again but missed – he was aiming for a head shot but his marksmanship wasn’t up to it. The grey-haired man had stopped returning fire and Raj took the opportunity to step out of the doorway, bring his left hand up to support his right and to fire continuously, shot after shot until the clip was empty. It was only when red roses blossomed on the man’s shirt that Raj realised he wasn’t wearing a vest. The man staggered back, his mouth open in shock, and then he fell to the ground.

Raj kept the gun aimed at the man as he cautiously approached him, but there was no movement and his shirt was now soaked in blood that glistened under the overhead floodlights.

Raj took deep breaths to steady himself, then walked over to Sid. Sid too was obviously dead; most of his face had been blown away. ‘Sorry, mate,’ said Raj. He dropped his Glock and picked up Sid’s carbine.

Raj looked around but no one seemed to have reacted to the shots. He went into the gatehouse and stood in front of the CCTV monitors. He ran his gaze across the screens but couldn’t see any other guards.

He left the gatehouse and walked up the drive. As he got to the front of the house, he realised that the front door was ajar. He held his carbine at the ready as he approached. He didn’t see any movement but he decided to enter through the rear of the house, just to be on the safe side.

He kept on the grass as he moved around the side of the building. Most of the downstairs rooms were in darkness. He rounded the rear of the house. There was a large terrace, with stone steps leading up to it, illuminated by what appeared to be ornate street lamps. Raj took a good look around to check that all was clear before heading up the steps. He walked by a massive BBQ pit and threaded through the wooden seats and tables towards a door that led to the kitchen. He gently turned the handle and pushed the door open. There was a man in grey fatigues sitting at the kitchen table, his head bobbing back and forth. Raj frowned, wondering why the man hadn’t reacted to the shots; then he realised he was listening to music through noise-cancelling headphones.

Raj walked on tiptoe, his carbine aimed at the man’s head. The man saw the movement and jumped to his feet, ripping off the headphones. ‘Hey man, be cool, I’m just a fucking pilot!’ he stammered.

Raj didn’t recognise him, but when he’d been flying the helicopter he’d been wearing a helmet and dark glasses.

‘I’m not armed,’ said the pilot, raising his hands. ‘I’m just a hired hand, I fly the chopper for Mr Van der Sandt, you don’t have any beef with me.’

‘Van der Sandt, that’s the name of the guy that’s been hunting us?’

The pilot nodded nervously. ‘Jon Van der Sandt. He’s richer than God.’ He pointed at the ceiling. ‘He’s upstairs.’

‘You knew what he was doing, right?’

The pilot looked away and didn’t answer.