Urban Assassin

  ‘We’re being asked to hunt down a guy who saved our lives and kill him, based on some story they’ve picked up,’ said Two Moons.

  Mitch didn’t have time to answer. There was a sudden explosion, and Gaz’s door hurtled towards them in a ball of flame . . .

  BOOKS BY JIM ELDRIDGE

  Black Ops: Jungle Kill

  Black Ops: Death in the Desert

  Black Ops: Urban Assassin

  URBAN ASSASSIN

  JIM ELDRIDGE

  To Lynne, for always!

  Black Ops: Urban Assassin

  First published 2011 by Egmont UK Limited

  239 Kensington High Street

  London W8 6SA

  Text Copyright © 2011 Jim Eldridge

  All rights reserved

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted

  ISBN 978 1 4052 5477 9

  eISBN 978 1 7803 1059 6

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by the CPI Group

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Frontispiece

  Books by Jim Eldridge

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  1

  Mitch was crouched low on the roof wearing Kevlar body armour, night-vision goggles, and cradling an M80 automatic rifle. Tonight, the British Embassy in Istanbul was a battleground for him and the rest of Delta Unit.

  Beside Mitch on the roof was Mehmet Koman of MIT. Turkish Intelligence. He was also kitted out in body armour, with night vision and an automatic rifle, as well as other weapons for hand-to-hand fighting: knives, small blades, wire garrottes.

  ‘Think they’ll come in via the roof?’ Mitch asked Koman in a whisper.

  ‘That’s what I’d do,’ Koman replied.

  Fits our plan perfectly, thought Mitch. The idea was to let the attackers come on to the roof and get inside the Embassy through the rooftop door. Once they were inside, Delta Unit would ambush them. While Mitch and Koman kept watch on the roof, the other five members of the unit were lying in wait inside the building.

  ‘Remember, we’d prefer to take them alive,’ Koman told Mitch. Mitch nodded. A dead terrorist was just a body. A captured one could be a goldmine of information.

  ‘Action outside,’ whispered Colonel Nelson’s voice suddenly through Mitch’s earpiece. ‘MIT have spotted the targets. They’re at the back of the building. Looks like one of them’s holding a crossbow.’

  ‘Grappling hooks,’ guessed Koman. ‘These old buildings are perfect for that, with their ornamental ledges.’

  Even as he spoke they heard a clatter from the edge of the roof, not far away from them. A metal barb had landed, a rope attached to the end of it. As they watched the hook was pulled back, and its curved ends caught on the roof’s decorative brick surround, exactly as Koman had predicted.

  ‘Let me guess, you’ve done this yourself,’ said Mitch.

  Koman smiled. ‘Only in training.’

  The two men watched as the hook started to take the strain.

  ‘They’re on their way up to the roof,’ Mitch reported to Nelson through his microphone.

  ‘Copy that,’ Nelson responded. ‘Let them get through the door into the building. We’ll take them once they’re in. Stay on the roof in case they try to get back that way.’

  ‘Affirmative,’ said Mitch.

  Inside the building, Nelson gestured to the others to take up their positions.

  ‘They’re on their way,’ he said.

  Suddenly Two Moons stiffened. ‘There’s someone outside the rear window! I saw a shadow,’ he warned.

  ‘A two-pronged attack.’ Tug nodded. ‘The roof and the alley.’

  ‘I’ll take the stairs,’ said Nelson. ‘Gaz, you’re with me.’

  The two soldiers ran to the stairs and took position part-way up, while Tug, Benny and Two Moons took cover behind the heavy filing cabinets, their rifles aimed at the windows overlooking the alley.

  ‘No one moves until they’re inside,’ whispered Tug.

  On the roof, Mitch and Koman crouched down behind the chimney stack. The head of a man appeared over the ornate Turkish parapet as he hauled himself on to the roof. He quickly checked the coast was clear. A bag hung round his neck and a long coil of rope dangled from his shoulders. The man tied one end of the rope to a metal stanchion and dropped the coil over the edge of the roof. There were now two ropes for the attackers to climb up.

  Mitch and Koman watched silently as the man hurried over to the access door. The attacker tried the door then pulled out something from the bag slung round his neck. Mitch and Koman heard the whine of a drill.

  Koman gave an approving nod. ‘Quieter than blowing it, and quicker than trying to pick it. These are professionals.’

  While the man worked, more figures were appearing over the edge of the roof. Mitch counted them. Five in total.

  ‘Four coming down to you. One on the roof,’ Mitch hissed into his microphone.

  From his position on the stairs, Nelson looked across at the rear window. Tug had moved across the room so that he was right beside it.

  As Tug watched, he saw the metal security grille across the window being pulled away as the attackers unscrewed the fixings that held it on.

  Tug hurried back to join the others. ‘They’re good, whoever they are,’ he murmured. ‘This is a quiet operation.’

  ‘Not for long,’ grunted Two Moons, hefting his automatic rifle.

  Mitch slid out from his hiding place and began to crawl along the chimney stack, easing his way closer to his target – the man guarding the door. He knew what it was like to be on guard on a roof at night. Every one of your senses was strained to breaking point as you listened for any sound or sudden change that might indicate an attack: the smell of tobacco from a smoker, the scent of hair gel.

  Two Moons, Tug and Benny watched the black-clad terrorists prise open the window and climb inside. They waited, ready for action, as the intruders began placing incendiary devices along the walls. It was obvious that once they’d stolen what they were after, they were going to burn the building to get rid of any evidence.

  Suddenly the Delta soldiers heard footsteps from the stairs and the four men appeared from the roof. As the first of them made it to the bottom of the stairs, Gaz moved out of the shadows, slamming the butt of his rifle into the man’s stomach. The intruders swung their guns towards Gaz, reacting to the sudden movement, but Tug, Benny, Two Moons and Nelson opened fire before they could bring their weapons to bear.

  Mitch could see the man on guard clearly now. He was dressed from head to toe in black, a balaclava helmet covering his face and an automatic rifle i
n his hands. As the gunfire sounded, the man swung towards the open door. Mitch saw his chance. He dived from his hiding place and grabbed the man from behind, wrapping both arms round him, trapping the man’s arms to the sides of his body to stop him aiming his rifle. Then Mitch slammed the man forwards, smashing him face first into the solid bricks of the doorway. Mitch felt the man go limp and the rifle dropped from his fingers.

  Mitch released the terrorist and he crumpled down, unconscious.

  Koman was already at Mitch’s side. Swiftly, Koman tied up the unconscious man with strong plastic cables.

  The sound of gunfire still raged below them.

  ‘Sounds like they’ve got trouble,’ said Mitch to Koman. Just then Nelson’s voice came through his earpiece: ‘Two terrorists heading up to the roof.’

  Mitch dragged the guard’s body out of sight behind a chimney. Then he and Koman took cover once again, rifles aimed at the open doorway. They were barely hidden when two figures burst out. Only one of them had a gun.

  Koman stepped out and hit the one with the gun across the face with the butt of his automatic rifle.

  The other man didn’t hang around. He ran for the edge of the roof where the ropes dangled. Mitch gave chase, sprinting across the uneven surface of the rooftop. Flipping his gun as he ran, Mitch used the rifle as a club, swinging it in an arc and hitting the man at the back of the knee, just as he reached the edge.

  Mitch took a second to catch his breath before pointing his rifle at the fallen attacker.

  ‘It’s over!’ he snapped. ‘Vermek yukan!’

  He knew his Turkish wasn’t perfect, but he hoped the person on the ground would recognise it as ‘Give up!’

  Instead, the man leapt up and threw himself at Mitch, swinging wild punches as he came to his feet. Mitch stepped back a pace, out of reach, and fired a single shot near the attacker’s feet as a warning. It didn’t work. The man turned and lunged for the edge of the roof again.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t,’ shouted Mitch, throwing himself at the man. The force of the collision carried them both to the precipice. For a split second they teetered on the edge, before tumbling out into the air. Mitch saw the ground far below, and the lights of the city streets staring up at him as he fell. He reached out with one hand and managed to grab the top of the stone parapet. With his other hand he still had hold of the attacker’s clothing.

  Pain coursed through his shoulder socket. The strain on his arms was pulling at every muscle fibre. The attacker kicked and struggled, making Mitch’s job even harder.

  I can’t hold on for much longer, he thought.

  ‘Let him fall!’ shouted Koman from above.

  ‘You wanted him alive!’ Mitch yelled back.

  There was a sudden shot. The attacker stopped struggling and went limp.

  ‘He’s dead now!’ Koman snapped, holding his pistol at his side. ‘Let him fall.’

  Mitch looked down at the terrorist, saw the blood dripping from his skull. He released his grip and the body plummeted to the ground far below.

  Koman reached down, grabbed hold of Mitch and helped him clamber back on to the roof.

  ‘So much for taking them alive,’ Mitch grunted as he lay on the cold, hard surface, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

  ‘We have those two,’ said Koman, gesturing across the roof towards the doorway, where the other men lay, tied up.

  In his ear Mitch heard Nelson say: ‘All clear down here. Interior of building secured. Four casualties, two prisoners.’

  ‘Roof secured,’ reported Mitch, clambering to his feet. ‘Two prisoners. One casualty.’ He sighed and added: ‘He’s down in the street. You’d better get MIT to clear up the mess.’

  2

  The soldiers of Delta Unit regrouped and headed for their vehicles, parked just outside the British Embassy. Koman and the other members of MIT had taken away the bodies of the dead attackers, and the prisoners.

  ‘Now that’s what I call a successful operation,’ said Two Moons as they walked.

  ‘Half of them are dead,’ Mitch pointed out.

  ‘Yeah, but we all came out alive!’ Two Moons grinned.

  ‘Good job, guys,’ said Nelson. ‘The Turkish authorities will be very happy. Looks like we stopped that terrorist plot.’

  Suddenly Nelson’s pager went off. They all turned as Nelson scanned it. The colonel’s face hardened. ‘It’s a Code 9,’ he told them grimly.

  Code 9 was the signal that recalled Delta Unit back to their base in London for an emergency situation. It was a good hour drive to the NATO air base, just outside Istanbul, and by the time they pulled into the military compound Mitch and the rest of the unit were exhausted. Nelson tried contacting HQ to get more details. All he was promised was that they would be given all the information when they arrived back in the UK.

  At the air base they boarded a small military jet. No customs, no protocol, just straight on to the plane and then take-off for Northolt RAF base, just outside London.

  ‘It can’t be that urgent,’ argued Gaz, ‘or they’d bring in a unit that’s nearer. Let’s face it, we’re in Turkey. There are two other units in the UK, plus a couple in Germany and one in Norway.’

  ‘I guess there’s a reason it has to be us,’ mused Tug.

  ‘You think we’re in trouble?’ asked Two Moons. ‘We’re going back for a court-martial or something?’

  Mitch shook his head. ‘Code 9 means a real emergency situation. Something big’s going down that they need us to deal with.’

  The plane journey was fast and noisy. As they disembarked at Northolt, they were met by a small man in a neat dark suit, and a uniformed army captain.

  ‘Colonel Nelson, I need you to come with me,’ said the suited man. Turning to the rest of Delta Unit, he told them, ‘Captain Lawrence and his men will escort you back to your base at Regent’s Park. Colonel Nelson will be rejoining you shortly.’ He gestured towards two military vehicles parked near the runway. Behind them was a small helicopter.

  Suddenly Mitch realised that the man in the suit was an Intelligence agent.

  We’re in spy territory, he thought.

  ‘I’ll see you guys later,’ said Nelson, and he followed the agent, who was now running towards the waiting helicopter. This is a real emergency, thought Mitch.

  Nelson and the man got into the helicopter which took off almost immediately. The rest of Delta Unit followed Captain Lawrence towards the military vehicles and as Mitch and Two Moons climbed into the first vehicle, Two Moons muttered: ‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘Spooks?’ murmured Mitch. ‘Either MI5 or MI6.’

  ‘Bingo!’ said Two Moons.

  Three hours later the squad were in the briefing room at their base in Regent’s Park. Coffee, sandwiches and doughnuts sat on the tables in front of them, but there was no sign of Colonel Nelson, nor any word from the USUKCSF High Command on where he was or how soon he’d be back.

  Mitch studied his friends and reflected again on how lucky he was to have been brought into Delta Unit. He’d been on the outside – kicked out of the SAS after killing his corrupt senior officer – when Colonel Nelson had offered him the chance to join the unit on a special mission.

  He had proved himself invaluable and now he was a core member of the six-man team: three Americans, three Brits.

  They were a young and mixed bunch: Colonel Chuck Nelson, the tall black Bostonian, in charge of the Unit; his second in command, Captain Robert ‘Tug’ Tait, the son of a British Lord; Lieutenant Benny Jaurez, a Latino Texan, the unit’s tactician; Sergeant Tony Two Moons, the tall Sioux Native American; Trooper Gaz Graham, the short and stocky Geordie from Newcastle; and Trooper Paul Mitchell, known to everyone as Mitch.

  ‘The guy in the suit said the colonel would be rejoining us shortly,’ muttered Two Moons as he munched on a doughnut.

  ‘Yeah, but he was a spook,’ said Mitch. ‘Spooks lie for a living. Never believe anything they tell you.’

  ‘Not even
the ones on our side?’ asked Two Moons.

  ‘Especially the ones supposedly on our side,’ said Mitch.

  Tug’s mobile rang. ‘It’s Nelson,’ he told the others. He answered the call and listened briefly, then said: ‘Fine. We’ll see you.’

  Tug hung up and turned to the others. ‘The colonel’s on his way. He says he’ll be here in about twenty minutes.’

  ‘Where was he?’ Benny asked.

  ‘It sounded like he was in a car so my guess is he’s been somewhere in London.’

  ‘Somewhere with a helipad.’ Benny nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘Guess we’ll find out soon enough,’ said Two Moons. He pointed at the two remaining doughnuts. ‘Anyone else want those?’

  ‘You bet!’ said Gaz, grabbing one.

  ‘Me too,’ said Benny, snatching up the other.

  Two Moons looked at his two friends indignantly as they stuffed the doughnuts into their mouths.

  ‘Huh, that’s what I get for being polite!’ He scowled jokingly. ‘Next time I’m just gonna eat ’em!’

  It was half an hour before Nelson walked in. He was carrying a laptop under his arm.

  ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, fellas,’ he said. ‘The briefing took a while. Then there was traffic.’

  ‘Is it a Code 9?’ asked Benny.

  Nelson nodded. ‘Yep. By my definition, this classes as an emergency all right.’ He put the laptop on the table and connected it to the Power-Point display unit. He pressed a few keys, and on the screen on the wall appeared a title card that said, ‘G20 Conference and Treaty on Terrorist Extradition.’

  ‘This is what it’s all about, guys. And it opens here in London in just five days’ time.’

  The others exchanged puzzled looks.

  ‘It’s a conference,’ said Gaz. ‘Politicians talking. How does that affect us?’

  ‘I guess it must be the subject matter,’ murmured Tug. ‘Terrorist Extradition.’

  ‘Dead right, Tug,’ Nelson replied. ‘All the G20 nations are coming to London to sign a treaty which will mean that terrorist suspects arrested in one country can be extradited to another country quickly and without lengthy appeals.’