John Steel Collection - Books 1-3

Chapter 3

Away from the bustle of London, three black transit vans hurried through the Kent countryside.

The two men wearing black combat dress uniforms sat in the cabs of each vehicle. In the lead vehicle’s passenger’s side sat a huge blonde-haired man. His skin looked pale against the dark clothing.

He wore a concentrated look as he checked his watch, then the navigation system.

‘We are fifteen minutes out. Get ready,’ the man said while touching his ear. His accent rang with a mix of European and American – possibly Boston or another northern east coast city. The man looked like a giant compared to the driver next to him. Both men had broad shoulders and taught trained bodies.

They were all mercenaries, but now they served only one master.

On the estate of Earl Steel, a party was in progress. Friends and family laughed and joked. Children ran around playing, despite the formal clothes they’d been forced to wear.

To the east, a seven-foot brick wall and a large, wooded area enclosed the vast grounds, and the entrance was to the east through a double gate at the end of a long driveway. The gate was opened electronically from a security room in a nearby gatehouse.

The wooded area followed the driveway on the left, and on the right was a maze of knee-high shrubs and bushes. At the end of this was the Steel family manor house. A five-story building built in the fourteen-hundreds by the first Earl Steel, who had been part of the Protectors of the Realm.

The house stood tall and proud. The white-framed windows and doors complemented the sandstone brickwork, shining in the sunlight. At the rear of the property was a long lawn on which stood a thirty-foot marquee ready for dinner later that evening. Next to it, wooden decking had been set down, which made a dance floor. Above this, coloured party lights fixed to a power cable crisscrossed between elegant temporary pillars. The area where the party was being held was enclosed entirely into a square by the wood.

The rear of the building was met by a large patio area, which led to ten stone steps. The marquee was to the right of the steps, and the dance floor met the edge of the last step. To the front and left of the stairs stood the guests.

Slipping discreetly between the guests, waiters hurried with trays of drinks or canapés. Music played from two speakers that stood on either side of the rear doors. On the floor trailed a cable to a microphone stand set up beside one of the large stone vases that formed part of the handrail. A statuesque, middle-aged woman stood, watching her two children drinking their lemonade from plastic beakers.

The Lady of the manor was still a handsome woman. With shoulder-length brown hair and flawlessly sculpted features. A lace and silk dress hugged her slender figure. She smiled as another woman approached.

‘You know, Elizabeth, it was a bad idea to make this a secret event, don’t you?’ The younger woman spoke with a trace of an American accent. Elizabeth Steel shrugged wryly at her daughter-in-law’s comment.

‘I spoke to his commanding officer, asking him to make sure John comes straight here. We can only hope that he follows orders for once.’ Elizabeth laughed. Helen smiled and shook her head before laughing softly.

‘Jonny, following orders, that’ll be a first,’ said Helen.

Helen Steel was tall and slender, with soft, light brown hair and eyes the colour of a tropical lagoon. Both women were beautiful in their different ways. Helen hoped that her youthful, almost coltish beauty would mature into something like her mother-in-law’s. The two women turned their attention to the men standing on the gravelled area, talking. One of the men was lofty and broad-shouldered, with thick black hair starting to grey at the temples. The second man stood a few inches shorter, wirier than the other, his blonde hair neatly cut. The taller of the two had a dark beard, whereas the shorter man was clean-shaven. Both wore tuxedos, as did all the other male guests, while the ladies wore elegant and expensive-looking cocktail dresses.

The smaller man gave the other a friendly pat on the left arm and moved away to join a group of people deep in conversation.

The dark-haired man picked up the microphone and turned to the DJ, hidden behind a makeshift booth at the far end of the gravel courtyard. The man tapped the mic, sending a loud screech through the speakers, making everyone wince. He smiled like a naughty schoolboy.

‘Sorry, sorry!’ Lord Steel said, embarrassed at making everyone wince. ‘Hello, everyone. My wife and I would like to thank you all for coming here this afternoon. We are here to celebrate two things: firstly, the latest blow to a certain worldwide gun trafficking ring a few days ago, when a special unit captured a horde with a value, it is thought, of over four million pounds,’ His voice was deep and but despite the neutral tone, there was a hint of the Oxford upbringing. Everyone cheered and clapped.

Lord Steel waved his hand and nodded as if to quieten the crowd.

‘But more importantly, it sees the safe return of our son John who is coming back from yet another tour of duty.’ Lord Steel raised his glass to the crowd, but his eyes were fixed on the beautiful woman he had married. She stood poised in her silk dress, and her dark hair was highlighted by the handmade lace trim around the low-cut neckline.

She smiled at the man, her eyes full of pride and happiness. Next to her stood their younger son Thomas, a dark-haired twelve-year-old with a rather serious expression on his face. Next to Thomas stood their daughter, who was no more than ten years old but looked like a miniature mirror image of her mother. They wore similar dresses, which was a little joke they liked to play. Sophie smiled at her mother and squeezed her hand. Elizabeth looked down at her daughter and winked.

A waiter walked up to the man at the microphone and whispered something into his ear, causing him to smile. Then, he turned back to the microphone.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear the problem with holding a surprise party is that one never knows when, or indeed if, the guest of honour might turn up. That seems to be the case today.’ The crowd laughed. ‘However, I don’t think he’d mind if we got started without him. What do you say?’ Again, he raised his glass.

‘I couldn’t agree more, your lordship,’ said a voice behind him.

A towering, fair-haired man had approached through the back doorway. His bulky, solid form was now dressed in black tactical gear with a UMP machine gun hung at his side via the clip sling.

‘Who are you, and what do you want here? This is a private party,’ said the Earl, as the man smiled and walked up to him.

‘I’m afraid, your grace, for you, the party’s over,’ replied. ‘And one more thing: my employer sends his regards.’ The stranger seized the microphone from the Earl’s grasp, then turned to the crowd as if he was about to make an announcement. But instead, he raised it as if to address the bewildered crowd of people who had just become his hostages.

Shots rang out. The interloper turned quickly to see one of his men – a bald man with a menacing grin on his face, holding a Glock 19, pointed at the Earl.

Lord Steel had dropped to his knees as scarlet blossomed from his back.

Elizabeth and his children watched in horror as Lord Steel fell face forward in pain. The bald man stepped forward and fired a final shot into the back of the Earl’s head.

For a brief stunned moment, everyone stood – frozen. Then, their shock was broken by the sound of automatic gunfire from the Woodline. People were falling everywhere, cut down by random blasts. The guests ran hither and thither, desperately looking for cover, only to be cut down by stray bullets.

Elizabeth saw a group of four armed men heading for the marquee, followed moments later by mixed screams and gunshots. As she watched, holes were punched through the sides of the marquee, and then there was silence. She grabbed her children’s hands and ran for the safety of the house. Her daughter-in-law picked up her skirts and followed, her long brown hair flowing behind her.

The bald killer smiled as he saw them and shook his head. The blonde man raced up to him. He grabbed the killer by the arm and yanked him towards him.

‘This was not the plan, you moron; now we have to finish this,’ he snapped at the bald man. ‘None of the Steel family was supposed to be harmed. Santini wanted them all alive.’ But the bald man wasn’t listening. His gaze was lost on the c*****e that was ensuing before him. The huge blonde man shook him. ‘Finish the others, but the rest of the Earl’s family will be captured unharmed…got it?’ The blonde man growled.

The bald man answered with a false smile, then headed into the building, followed by a group of men holding Kalashnikovs.