[Vampire Babylon 01] - Skarlet (2009)

Author:Thomas Emson [Emson, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-09-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 55

CONFESSIONS.

THEY listened to the news as they headed up the M25 and the news said terror stalked the streets of London.

“They don’t half exaggerate,” said Lithgow from the back of Sassie’s Mini.

The headlines told of death and carnage. Witnesses expressed fear, officials called for calm, analysts spouted bullshit.

Lawton switched off the radio. “I know what it’s like; I saw it,” he said.

It had been difficult getting out of London. Traffic crawled, and armed police carried out checks on vehicles leaving the city.

But Lawton felt good being out of London, felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He glanced across at Sassie, her eyes fixed on the road. He said, “I want to tell you what happened in Basra.”

“You don’t have to. I’ve already seen,” she said.

Lawton glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Lithgow sleeping.

“I don’t want you believing what you hear from people like Crane, from the press.”

“Okay,” she said.

“I didn’t murder an innocent man, Sassie. I didn’t kill an unarmed civilian.”

“Okay,” she said again.

And then Lawton told her.

* * *

Basra, Iraq – November 2004

TWO men stumbled out of the knackered VW. They had backpacks strapped to their bodies. They made their way through the crowd, towards the Shia mosque. Dust rose up as they strode across the road.

Panic spread through the crowd. Kids started to point. Traders started shutting down their stalls.

Lawton ordered the Scimitar to stop. The vehicle jerked to a halt.

He leaped out of the tank, Rabbit and Billy Tell backing him up. He told them what he’d seen and they saw what he saw. They moved quickly, the crowd parting, the crowd pointing and shouting towards the backpackers racing towards the mosque.

Lawton licked his lips. His throat felt like sandpaper. He could hear his pulse throbbing in his ears.

Shouts filled the street. People spilled out of buildings. The backpackers screamed as they headed for the mosque. Worshippers scattered.

Lawton shouted at the backpackers.

One of them stopped, turned to face Lawton, Rabbit, and Billy Tell.

The backpacker was young, late teens, sweat pouring down the creased skin of his face. He bared his teeth and raced towards the soldiers. The crowd screamed and spread. Lawton said, “Shoot him, Rabbit.”

Rabbit fired. The onlookers cowered. Blood sprayed from the backpacker’s head. His body flew backwards and hit the ground. Dust coughed up around his body. He was almost sitting up, the backpack preventing him from lying prone.

Lawton, chasing down the other backpacker, told Rabbit and Billy Tell to disengage to get bomb disposal here – now.

The mosque doors swung shut as the other suicide bomber reached them. He turned to face the street. The worshippers ran about, shouting prayers, calling on their god. Lawton, twenty yards away from the backpacker, shouldered his SA80 and said, “Hands in the air, down on your knees,” and then he said, Down, down, in Arabic.

But the suicide bomber looked up to heaven. He said, “Allah akbar”

– God is great – and held his arms up to the sky. And then he reached into his pocket.

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