The Journey of Kyle Gibbs Box Set Page 7

  ‘Hello, my boy,’ his aunt said.

  ‘Hi, Aunt Rhona. This is a nice surprise.’

  ‘It’s not the call I wanted to make, Kyle,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid I have terrible news.’

  Gibbs felt his chest tighten. ‘Has something happened to Uncle Gordon?’

  ‘No, son. He’s great as always, just getting old and grumpy. I’ve rung about your father.’

  Gibbs lay in silence for a few seconds, looking across to Shredder. ‘What’s the bastard done now?’

  ‘I’m afraid he died last night,’ she said in a strained tone. ‘I’m so sorry, Kyle.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘The fire service said that he’d been on the drink and passed out with a lit cigarette. He didn’t even move off the couch, apparently.’

  ‘It was inevitable, wasn’t it?’ Gibbs said, picturing his abusive father living by himself above the family pub. A pub that had been Gibbs’s home for his first fourteen years.

  ‘I guess so. At least, no one else was injured. The funeral will be this Wednesday in Stonehaven, and he’ll be buried next to your mother.’

  ‘Okay. I guess it makes sense. She was the only one who loved him,’ Gibbs said. ‘To her detriment in the end.’

  ‘Don’t go there, son,’ Aunt Rhoda said. ‘Will we see you on Wednesday?’

  ‘No. The man treated us all like shit. I have no respects to pay at his graveside,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘That’s what I thought. We’ll go anyway because it’ll give us a chance to tidy your mother’s grave.’

  ‘Put some flowers down for me and send Uncle Gordon and the cousins my love.’

  ‘I will do, Kyle,’ she said. ‘Come and visit us sometime. We all miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too. Take care.’

  He lay back and thought of all the anger that he’d felt throughout his violent past. It had driven him to make all his choices in life. What would drive him on now? Maybe a change of career was the way to go.

  ‘Sorry to hear about your old man, mate,’ Killey said, sitting up on his bed, wiping the drool away from his cheek.

  ‘Thanks,’ Gibbs said with a smile as he looked back up at the crack in the ceiling. ‘Let’s not waste any more time on him. That chapter is over.’

  Chapter 12

  Grangemouth Refinery Barracks, Scotland, UK – 2019

  Adrenalin coursed through the man as he moved from the corner of the barracks building across from the open dust parade ground to the main shower and ablution block. It was a full moon, and the mission to sneak around the large base undetected was proving trickier than ever. The guard who’d helped them get into the cells previously was off duty, and they had no easy way in. Behind them, a female fox screamed her ghost-like mating call to nearby males, and the man stopped to listen for sounds of patrolling guards.

  Security on the army base had been tightened since the destruction of the pipeline, with the guard being doubled at all external posts. The man paused for a moment to peer around the corner of the main shower block at the stockade where the captive saboteurs were being held. Time dragged as he waited for the sound of soft footfalls to steal up behind him.

  ‘Last chance, gents,’ Gibbs said in a whisper.

  Shredder just smiled and nodded his head in the direction of the admin building. ‘See you both a little later.’

  Gibbs and Killey walked straight up to the guard at the main door. The young guard dressed in brown fatigues brought his weapon up. ‘Halt! Password?’

  ‘Glen Fiddich,’ Gibbs replied, the words they had procured from an entrepreneurial staff sergeant on Captain Warren’s team. The guard lowered his weapon, the relief evident on his face.

  ‘Evening, Sergeant Gibbs, I thought you were confined to barracks, sir. May I inquire what business you have in here at this time?’ the corporal asked.

  ‘Of course you may, Corporal. I intend to break some of the captives out of their cells and take them with me off the base,’ Gibbs said, a big smile on his face.

  The young corporal laughed. ‘No, seriously, sir,’ he replied before he collapsed as Killey struck the base of his neck with his sidearm, knocking him out cold.

  ‘Bring him inside,’ Gibbs said.

  Dragging the unconscious guard into the main passage, they turned into a side guard room. Two men were asleep on army cots waiting to start their later shifts. Killey laid the unconscious guard down on the floor and quietly closed the door on his way out.

  Gibbs walked out into the main corridor again and down to the cells, and on reaching Ton’s cell looked back before tapping softly on the metal door. After a few seconds, he opened the metal hatch and whispered, ‘Ton, wake up, it’s Gibbs.’

  ‘What do you want now?’

  ‘Just to be clear, if I get you to London, you’ll give us the necessary agent’s details and introductions?’ Gibbs whispered.

  ‘That’s what I said. When do you propose we leave?’

  The sound as the key slipped into a keyhole and unlocked the cell door seemed as loud as a gunshot in the quiet corridor.

  ‘How about now?’

  ‘What about Walter? I’ve had no news of him in days and won’t do this without him.’

  ‘Just go with Killey,’ Gibbs said. ‘I’ll go and get him.’

  A few minutes later Gibbs led the men down the corridor and stopped suddenly as the two guards stood before them, their SA80 machine guns covering the group. One blinked, wiping sleep away from his eyes.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ the first guard shouted.

  ‘You thought we were sleeping, did you?’ the second guard said.

  Hiding behind one of the protruding corridor pillars and facing Gibbs stood Killey, who had been keeping a watchful eye on the parade ground outside when he heard the two men talking behind the closed door. He smiled at Gibbs and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Now, gentlemen, why don’t you lower those weapons before you go and hurt someone?’

  ‘Quiet, Sergeant Gibbs,’ the second guard said. ‘You’ve been caught so please do as we say.’

  ‘Robinson, I’ll cover them while you go and trigger the alarm,’ the first guard said.

  As the guard turned to leave, bright lights from outside shone through the front door and lit up the whole entrance area. The two guards briefly turned to look at the source of the lights.

  Killey spun around the corner and with a roar like a crazed mythical Minotaur, charged headlong into the two young guards who were just metres from him.

  He hit them both in the throat area with his outstretched forearms as he ran between them, smashing their upper bodies backwards. As they fell, he grabbed the muzzles of both their machine guns and ripped the weapons from their grip. ‘Now, stay down, kiddies, or I’ll slap you so hard, you’ll think you’ve had a hiding from God.’

  Gibbs ushered the mercenaries past the frightened guards, who had slithered on the floor to the side wall. The sound of a truck door slamming then the crunching sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel outside made them all drop to their knees. A few seconds later Shredder appeared in the doorway with a big smile on his face. ‘Taxi’s here, ladies.’

  ‘Perfect timing,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘Killey, bring those two lads with us. I don’t want to make it too easy for Warren to work out who did this. We can let them loose for a little day trip in London.’

  • • •

  A clanging bell-like alarm outside Captain Warren’s window wrenched him from his sleep. He sat up quickly and fumbled with the bedside lamp before stumbling into his brown army fatigues. A loud banging on the door made him jump. The nervous twinge in his stomach grew stronger. Had there been another attack at the refinery? It would look terrible on his file.

  ‘Yes, I’m coming.’

  ‘Hurry, Captain,’ the voice said.

  ‘What is it?’ he said, yanking the door open.

  A young soldier in brown fatigues stood outside the door trying to catch his
breath. His beret had slipped forward, and his glasses had dropped to the tip of his nose from all the running. ‘The prisoners have escaped, sir.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Captain Warren said.

  ‘Three of the prisoners have escaped, sir.’

  Pushing past the soldier, Captain Warren walked out of the officers’ quarters across to the admin block. Flashing blue lights from three military police Land Rovers lit up the red-bricked building. Urgency filled the air as men scurried in and out of the main door. The officer of the day jogged away to his left, in his fatigues, but without his boots. A sergeant saw him approach and saluted his greeting. ‘Good evening, Captain.’

  ‘What the hell happened here, Sergeant?’ he asked.

  ‘Three of the men who were involved in the recent pipeline explosions have been freed, sir.’

  ‘What? You mean escaped?’

  ‘I am afraid not, sir. Although we don’t have all the facts yet, it seems that a number of men assisted them in getting out of their cells. They commandeered a truck from the motor pool, and we believe they have left the base, sir.’

  Captain Warren struggled to gather his breath as he felt a panic attack setting in. He would be relieved of his post. ‘Well, let’s not stand around. Show me, Sergeant.’

  They had a quick look inside the three empty cells then went to the guard room where two military policemen were searching the place. Sitting on the edge of a bunk and being treated by a medic, was the young guard.

  ‘What happened to the other guards that should be here?’ Captain Warren said.

  ‘No sign of them, Captain. We assume they were involved in the escape and have already begun a base-wide search for them.’

  ‘Is that the guard who let them in?’ Captain Warren pointed to the injured young man.

  ‘Yes, sir. They knocked him out cold,’ the sergeant replied. ‘I don’t think he’ll be of any use for a while.’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that.’

  The medic looked up and snapped to attention. ‘Captain?’

  ‘Has he told you what happened, or who caused this?’

  ‘No, sir, he is suffering from a severe concussion and is not making any sense. He is slurring his words and keeps passing out.’

  ‘Has he said anything that could help us?’ Captain Warren said.

  ‘He’s mumbled the name Gibbs a few times, but none of it makes sense.’

  Captain Warren’s jaw dropped. He tried to take a deep breath to compose himself. ‘Bloody Gibbs again. I knew I should have kept him locked up,’ he said. ‘Go and fetch him, Sergeant.’

  The open doors to the now vacant holding cells made him feel dizzy, and he wanted to throw up. This was the nail in his military coffin. People had been demoted for lesser security lapses. A few minutes later he found himself outside the main door, taking in the cool night air. The sight of the sergeant running across the courtyard towards him, a grim look on his face, told him that his worst nightmare had come true.

  ‘We can’t find him, sir.’

  ‘Of course you can’t.’

  ‘And it seems some of his unit have also disappeared. Should I alert the Metropolitan Police to keep a lookout for the truck?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Sergeant, this is a military matter. You’ll lead the investigation and personally see to their capture. Use as few of the Military Police as you can. They have access to the base and its CCTV, so get access to it. You will only report back to me. No one else,’ Captain Warren said.

  ‘What about my superiors, sir?’

  ‘You have your orders, Sergeant. Speak directly to me about this,’ Captain Warren said. ‘Only me, do you understand that? Now, go and catch the bastard.’

  • • •

  Gibbs opened his eyes and looked out over the blocked tarmac that lay ahead of them. They were on the M4 motorway into London, one of the main arterial roads into the city. They’d travelled through the night down from Grangemouth via Manchester and were now on their final stretch into the capital. The boredom in the front cab of the truck was only punctuated by the occasional aeroplane on final approach to land at London Heathrow.

  ‘It’s weird to see so few planes coming in to land at the airport,’ Shredder said. ‘There used to be several lined up at any one time.’

  ‘Since it was taken over by the government last year, strict controls on the numbers of commercial flights have been implemented. I hear that only government and military flights are allowed nowadays,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘I bet rich folk are still able to fly all over the place.’

  ‘You’re right about that.’

  ‘What would you give to be able to go on holiday again?’ Shredder said.

  ‘I know, right. Walking along a beach somewhere with a bronzed beauty, a couple of drinks and not a thought of this chaotic London we’re about to enter. I reckon the Caribbean would be great this time of year,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘Once we have made decent cash doing a few mercenary jobs, do you think we’ll be amongst the privileged few who fly around the world?’ Shredder said.

  ‘Not bloody likely, mate, the costs are huge. Just look at all these abandoned cars along the verges of this motorway. At some point, a family couldn’t afford to finish a journey and simply left their car on the motorway. Only the seriously wealthy can afford to operate a car let alone fly around in a plane. You have to have serious connections in the military or with the gangs who control most of the fuel.

  ‘The military was more prepared and had stockpiled large amounts of diesel and petrol for any military operations. The everyday man in the street had no chance in all these luxury and small engine vehicles that you see parked here. They simply coasted to a stop. You’ll see the same all over London.’

  Shredder looked out over the steering wheel and said, ‘It’s like we’re part of an apocalyptic movie with all these rusting cars. Some are even burnt out. Why would you set your car on fire?’

  ‘Selfishness of the naked ape, I guess. When times get this tough, why let others have your shit for free. I get the feeling that it’ll get worse before it improves. Apocalypse might be the right word in the end.’

  ‘Next thing we’ll be attacked by zombies or something,’ Shredder said.

  Gibbs laughed and looked down at the sliver of paper with the phone number and address on. Ton had been true to his word when he was dropped off at the airport. A good professional to the end.

  ‘You still think that contact is legitimate?’ Shredder asked as he swerved across the road to get around a deserted vehicle.

  ‘I hope so. In the end, I don’t think Ton had any reason to bullshit us. We did get him and his nephew out of a tight spot back there,’ Gibbs said.

  ‘We also shot and killed many of his men,’ Shredder said.

  Gibbs nodded. The knot in his stomach was not going away.

  • • •

  Condensation dripped off the cold beer and into Gibbs’s lap as he sat on the veranda beneath a big outdoor umbrella. The hot weather certainly had added to the lively atmosphere on the waterfront in Richmond-upon-Thames. He smiled at the thought of Killey and Shredder watching him through binoculars from a distant rooftop, all the while baking in the scorching sun. It had been their idea to cover Gibbs while he sat waiting at the Pitcher and Piano bar for the meeting with Ton’s agent. He raised his beer to the men observing him and smiled, fully aware of the verbal abuse he would get when they met up later. Gibbs’s phone started to vibrate with an incoming call.

  ‘Gibbs,’ he answered.

  ‘It’s David Kirkwood. I’m changing the venue, so get a cab to the Duke’s Head in Putney, it’s on Lower Richmond Road, I will be waiting,’ Kirkwood said.

  ‘Is this necessary?’

  ‘Yes, it is, and please leave your men behind this time.’

  Gibbs looked at all the people milling around on the banks of the River Thames. This was still a well-to-do area, and no one looked out of place. None had mobile phones to their ears,
so he was being watched from further away. ‘You’d better not be jerking me around, Kirkwood.’

  ‘It should take you about twenty minutes at the most to make the journey. If you’re not here at the thirty-minute mark, I will leave, and with that goes the opportunity of working together.’

  Gibbs jumped into the clapped-out green Ford Fiesta he’d borrowed and pulled out onto the Richmond high street. He slipped the Glock17 out from under the front seat and rested it between his legs. Driving along the pothole-strewn road, he swerved around the deserted vehicles and trucks as hundreds of ashen-faced pedestrians watched his progress with both envy and disdain etched onto their troubled faces.

  After a fifteen-minute journey through an affluent old suburb of London, Gibbs stood outside the agreed meeting place, The Duke’s Head pub, its decaying sign swinging above the door.

  Pushing the door open, he walked into the well-lit bar and saw a man with short strawberry blond hair sitting by the large windows that overlooked the Thames River. Gibbs scanned the rest of the quiet venue and made a quick mental note of all three available exits before he looked over a few other local patrons who were drinking in the lounge.

  ‘Kirkwood?’ he asked as he approached the table.

  The slender, effeminate man nodded and gestured for him to sit. ‘I had a quick phone call with Ton de Geest this morning, and he brought me up to speed on the developments of the past few days. He’s not a major fan of yours, but he felt indebted to you, as I do, for getting him out of a rather tight spot. It’s why I agreed to meet with you.’

  ‘Ton would have done the same in my shoes,’ Gibbs added, leaning back in the chair.

  ‘Nevertheless, you and your men have now brought additional baggage to my door. I’m sure most of the military wires have lit up after your recent shenanigans. Personally, I don’t care about that, but it might be a problem if they alert the Metropolitan Police and border control.’

  ‘My team and I can stay hidden from the police and have crossed many international borders without being caught.’