False Witness (John Steel series Book 3) (17 page)

He looked out of the large panoramic window of his penthouse suite, and his gaze took in the splendour of New York City at night.

He headed for the door, taking his three-quarter length leather jacket with him. He needed fresh air and something to take his mind off the dreams.

*

Steel had just left the lobby of his home when his cell phone rang. It was one of his many ‘eyes’ in the city. He had a tip that a snitch was held up in an old building in the Bronx, and this snitch apparently had information on his private case. John put the phone away and hailed a cab.

The night sky was black and almost starless in the clear heavens above. Even the wind had died down, leaving that air still, however a chill remained.

A yellow cab pulled up and he got into the back and told the driver the address. Every nerve in his body told him that this was undoubtedly a trap, but he had to make sure. Besides, he reckoned that he needed the exercise.

The driver had parked about a block short of the destination at Steel’s request: if it was a trap he wanted to know the lie of the land so that he could figure out what might be in store for him. Steel looked round at the surrounding streets, then felt relieved as a plan came into play in his mind.

Going round the back of one of the buildings, he began to climb up it. He needed a rooftop view and this looked just about perfect. Reaching the top he knew he would have to stick to the shadows, for if someone was watching he didn’t want to spoil the party.

He moved quickly and quietly towards the edge of the building’s roof. Suddenly he stopped, as he could see sandbags and equipment bags, as well as a sniper’s mat on the ground. Clearly this was a snipers’ ‘nest’.

Taking out a small monocular from his pocket, Steel surveyed the land below. Was he early? The other rooftops were clean, however Steel figured that the others had not yet arrived. Then he moved his gaze to the building, which itself was large—around six storeys high, a disused tenement building. Two of its sides were covered by other flat-roofed buildings.

It looked as if the place had been abandoned for years, judging by the amount of foliage growing round it. Steel could not see any signs of life.

Mm, nobody home
, he thought. At first he mused on the possibility that his contact had been leading him on.

Until he heard the voices.

He looked down and saw three men, all in black, running in different directions. One went to the next building, the second man went to the alleyway alongside the structure where Steel was positioned, and the last man?

He was on his way up to the sniper’s nest.

The roof door opened and the man who was dressed in black tactical gear, came out onto the roof and walked forwards, ensuring he was crouched low and did not ‘silhouette’ against the night sky. Once at his killing position he swung the long bag from his back and took out the special silenced sniper’s rifle.

The killer unfolded the front bi-pod and laid down the weapon. Adjusting his position, he made himself ready for the job in hand.

Steel appeared from behind a ventilation stack and headed towards his target, all the while keeping silent and to the shadows. He was fast but scarily quiet as he moved like the shadows of the night.

The sniper didn’t hear anything, just felt the hands on his head before it was twisted, making a loud crunch as his neck was broken.

John Steel looked over at the second man, as he grabbed the communications set from the sniper and disappeared back into the shadows.

The Englishman put in the earpiece so that he could keep track of every move of his enemies.

First of all he needed to take out that other sniper and then the guy in the alley before he could even think of going inside. John made his way to the back end of the building where there would be less noise. The jump he had to make was at least seven to eight feet, and there were loose chippings on the ground’s surface.

He knew he had only one shot at this so he had to make it count.

In his ear there were a quick succession of white-noise blasts, as if someone was pressing the ‘send’ button on his radio, but not talking. Steel nearly ripped the earpiece out because it was so distracting and loud.

The ex-soldier smiled and walked back to give himself a good run-up. After a few quick exhalations to give himself confidence, he started to run. As he neared the edge of the roof he started to press his own ‘send’ button. He jumped, then landed with a roll into the shadows of the lower level.

“Whoever is doing that, make sure you’re not sat on the damn thing, okay?” came an angry voice from his earpiece. Steel smiled as he headed towards the next gunman.

“Don’t worry, that’s the least of your worries,” he whispered to himself.

After taking care of the second gunman, Steel made his way down to the ground using the stairs—going down the old drainpipe was too risky and it was too high to jump from.

The night air felt somewhat warmer down on the ground and definitely less breezy. As he approached the alley he could see the third man watching the building and the surrounding ones through binoculars. Steel moved up behind him slowly at first, pausing for a few seconds to see if the man was aware of his presence. Then, seizing his chance, Steel moved forwards towards his next target.

“We are all clear in the alley. I’ll let you know if the target arrives. Out.”

Those were the man’s last words, as Steel grabbed him and pinched his neck in exactly the right place, knowing that it would stop the blood flow and knock the man out cold. Picking up the body, Steel moved him to a darkened spot and, using the man’s own plastic cuffs, bound his hands together and then checked his clothing for useful items.

John Steel walked over to the spotter’s position and picked up what at first appeared to be binoculars.

“Oh, hello, beautiful,” he said to himself, admiring the military-grade thermal imaging binoculars. John took off his sunglasses and stuffed the end of one of their side arms between his lips. Placing the electronic device to his eyes he checked the windows of the buildings and saw the heat signatures of more than a dozen people inside: presumably the guards and the snitch. This was no longer a meeting—this was a rescue operation.

*

Sticking to the shadows, Steel made his way over to the building, after he had checked the other building’s rooftops for more ‘uninvited guests’. The bulk of the personnel were on the third and fourth floors. Unfortunately John could only speculate where the ‘snitch’ was, but he figured he was on the fourth floor.

Steel had made out at least seven men on that floor and another seven on the floor below. He had seen the thermal glow from their body heat, but also knew that they would be heavily armed. He would have to get in unseen and take out as many of them as possible before getting the informant out.

Most of the windows of the tenement building were boarded up apart from three—two of these were small bathroom windows that only a cat could get through, and the other was a bedroom window. This was covered by a piece of chipboard, however squatters or tramps had worked it free, so it was only held in place by one bolt, and happily it swung to the side easily, allowing him to climb through with ease.

Inside reeked of a stale building that had been left to decay. Each room was bathed in darkness apart from the odd shard of light that broke through the gaps in the boarding. These gave enough light for him to make out whatever was inside the rooms. Steel moved slowly, so as not to create any noise, as he headed for the staircase.

He saw the elevator had power but that was far too obvious and climbing up was a safer option: he had seen enough action films to realise the close calls you can have with a moving elevator.

As he walked through the apartment he stopped outside the bathroom. There he could see one of the guards heading in, presumably to do a room check. The man was alone and armed only with a small machine pistol, but this posed a considerable danger.

Just as the man moved inside, Steel rushed forwards and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He thrust the man’s head towards the back wall, hoping to knock him unconscious, and was surprised that instead of the expected sound of the crunch of bone against the tiled wall, the man’s head broke through the structure.

The man stumbled backwards, dazed by the impact, but John finished him off quickly, using a straight leg kick, which sent him crashing back into the wall and through it.

Steel pulled the unconscious man from the rubble of broken plasterboard and masonry, then noticed that the gap between the outside wall and the bathroom wall was large enough to accommodate someone; he just hoped that he would fit.

Carefully, he tore away some layers of wall until the hole was big enough, then climbed inside and through into the rest of the building: this was his way up, for it was possible to climb up the walls from this cavity, using the timber beams for support.

On the fourth floor men stood ready with the butt of their automatic rifles tucked into their shoulders, ready for whatever may come up the staircase. Each floor had a large landing and the stairwell that ran up the back wall had a long corridor that branched off the floor space with two apartments in each corridor. Decay had made some of the walls crumble away, and there were piles of rubble around, thus opening up the areas within the apartments, so that there was almost one big space. The flooring had hidden holes in it, ready for unexpected and unwary guests to tread in. In fact the whole building was effectively a massive trap. However, this was only nature’s doing and had nothing to do with the mercenaries inside.

Steel made his way up to the fifth floor using the wooden beams as a climbing frame. Dust and cobwebs clung to his black outfit, almost turning him a sandy colour.

He stopped and looked through a hole in the wall next to what was a washbasin in a bathroom. There stood one of the mercenaries taking a leak. He was whistling a merry tune as he performed his duties, then shook himself and buttoned up. John shook his head in disgust as the man just walked out without flushing the lavatory.

John Steel now had the problem of getting out of the wall without making a noise and drawing attention to himself. He thought for a moment, then made his way over to see what was in the next room, hoping to find another peephole with which to observe what was happening. He noticed that most of the walls had either fallen down, or else someone had deliberately pushed down the dry-wall dividers. This meant that there was no chance of cover for him to hide behind. However, on the plus side, it allowed him to see everything they were doing and where everyone was.

He needed a distraction to cover the noise and pull the men away from the hostage, who was sitting, tied to a wooden stool not far from the staircase and near a large window.

Steel remembered the cell phone he had taken off the spotter, and moved slowly back to the bathroom. John tapped McCall’s number into the phone, then crammed it in between the boards and the bathroom wall. He smiled wickedly to himself as he slid back to the hallway wall and waited.

If this plan did not work he would have to think of something else and doing so meant using time that the snitch didn’t have. Steel found the peephole once again and waited for the phone to ring.

One of the guards went to the bathroom—too much coffee had clearly had taken its toll, but this opportunity was exactly what Steel needed. The man walked in and yelled abuse at the last one who had used it. He unzipped his trousers and rested one hand on the wall as if to balance himself as he looked up and closed his eyes. There was a feeling of relief on his face as he urinated.

A noise, like distant music, tickled his ears. He stopped pissing and stepped back, grabbing his UMP machine pistol and holding it ready to fire. A red dot from its laser sight trailed along the wall.

“Boss, get over here!” yelled the guard. Another, larger, man, wearing a shirt with cut-off sleeves, walked over to the mercenary in the bathroom doorway.

“What’s the matter?” he jeered. “You want me to wipe your ass for you?”

The others laughed as the boss approached.

“No, sir, get in here quick,” hissed the guard, this time more softly than previously.

“Okay, dipshit, what is it?” The boss stood just inside the doorway, next to the alert guard.

“Listen!” The guard held his hand up as if to shut everyone up. The boss man was just about to scold him for wasting his time when the music began again.

The two men looked at each other and then stepped back, weapons held ready.

“There is someone in the wall!” shouted one of them. “The cop is in the friggin walls!”

They opened fire and walked in, flashes from the weapons’ barrels were almost blinding in such close proximity.

Others joined in the rapid fire, almost hungry for blood. As the walls exploded with the onslaught of bullets, the men were oblivious that behind them in the hallway the wall was being broken through, and a man dressed all in black was closing in on them.

One mercenary, who was standing in the doorway but unable to fire, stood and watched with an almost excited look upon his face. Steel grabbed him from behind and held him close as he grabbed the weapon that was slung at the man’s shoulder. He then opened fire on the others.

The men screamed in agony as their kneecaps ruptured with .45 calibre rounds from the UMP machine pistol. Steel slammed the head of the man he’d captured against the doorframe several times, knocking him out cold.

Steel knew he would not have much time before the others would be rushing up the stairs. He checked the men’s vests for ammunition and ran out into the hallway, just as the first couple of mercenaries reached the top of the stairs.

John Steel jumped up and opened fire at the men. Two of them were hit full in the chest and legs, while the two behind dived for cover by rolling down the stairs. Blind gunfire from the stairwell cut up the walls and doorways of the floor, flash-bang grenades tossed equally blindly, in the hope of catching out the intruder. However, Steel had made it across to the hostage, who was tied to a wooden kitchen chair with a bag over his head, near a large window.