John Steel Collection - Books 1-3

Chapter 4-1

John Steel had taken a taxi from the train station in Maidstone to the family estate near Linton Park, Kent.

The drive would take about an hour, but Steel didn’t mind. It would give him time to get his head straight. Steel felt the warm sun on his face, and the crisp breeze crept through the slightly open window next to the driver. Steel was vaguely listening to the driver chatter about his opinions on the state of affairs in far-off lands. Finally, however, Steel was weary from the long journey and gazed out of the window, taking in the view of the green fields, forests, and small villages they passed through on the way.

Steel gazed out of the window at some women with prams talking outside the local shop or kids in packs rushing to school.

He was still dressed in his uniform battledress. He had been away for a long time, and now he was content to come home. He did not want any fuss, just a quiet time with his wife and the rest of the family, but he was afraid that his father would come up with a homecoming event.

It all seemed quite surreal to Steel, being home after spending so long in a barren land of luxuries, or even trees and grass as he knew it, so he had to readjust his thinking. Was this all a dream? Would he suddenly wake up and find himself back in the hell he thought he had left? He slowly touched the car’s window glass, hoping it would be there and it wouldn’t fade away as soon as he laid fingers on it. Steel smiled as the feel of the cold glass sent a tingling sensation down his spine.

Steel rested his warm cheek against the window and closed his eyes. ‘Oh, that feels good,’ he said, and the cab driver looked at him through the rear-view mirror and shook his head as though he was mad.

The bump of the taxi’s right wheel hitting a pothole woke Steel from his slumber. He stretched off and checked the time. He figured that they should be close by, then saw the brick wall that enclosed the family estate. Steel smiled and excitedly adjusted his seating position. As they turned onto the gatehouse, the taxi stopped at the two wrought iron gates. Steel sat for a moment, looking over at the small house next to the gate. Usually, the gamekeeper or his wife would greet whoever wanted entry – but there was silence. Steel began to get a bad feeling. Something wasn’t right.

‘What now?’ asked the taxi driver.

‘Somethings not right here. Someone should have come out by now?’ Steel said, looking around.

‘Maybe they’ve gone out shopping or something?’ the driver said sarcastically. He, too, was getting a bad feeling, like this was a joke ride. This soldier would stiff him for the fair first chance he got.

‘I’m just getting out to see if anyone is at the gatehouse,’ Steel said. The taxi driver shot Steel an unsettled look.

‘Yeah, right, and then you do a bunk and leave me over a hundred quid short,’ said the driver.

‘Fine, come with me then,’ Steel shrugged.

‘Yeah, right, like I can keep up with a trained soldier.’ Steel scowled. He was losing patients with this guy.

‘Fine, you go, and I’ll stay here, and if there are any bad guys about, you can take them out, and I’ll watch,’ Steel joked. Not that he envisaged anything was amiss. It was probably that both Mr and Mrs Reese were busy doing something and not seeing the monitor. A bell and intercom system sat inside the gate posts next to the house. The aluminium plate glowed white as the sun reflected on its polished surface.

‘Yeah, right, and….’

‘Look, mate, you want your cash. I want to go home, so one of us has the ring that bell and get the friggin gate open. I’ve had a long journey home, and I’m getting headaches. So, you get your arse out of the car, or I do,’ Steel growled. His eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep, making the light blue in the middle seem menacing.

‘Uhm, perhaps you could,’ the driver said, hoping to put some distance between him and John Steel.

‘Good choice,’ Steel said, pulling the door handle. As he stepped out of the taxi, the refreshing breeze swept over him, causing him to shiver. He went to close his eyes and let the crisp air envelop him, but instead, he froze. From far down the driveway, loud popping, like fireworks, could be heard in the direction of the house. John Steel opened his eyes with a start and shot upright. Steel knew what he was listening to all of a terrible moment – it was gunfire. A mix of a rapid-fire and single shot. This wasn’t Mr Reese scaring off birds with his shotgun. These were automatic weapons.

John Steel rushed over to the gatehouse. The door had been kicked in, and he could just see two sets of feet lying on the blood-soaked ground through the half-open door.

Steel felt his blood boil. His thoughts began to cloud.

He wanted to jump the fence and run blindly into the fray. Instead, he stopped, clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Slowly Steel breathed in several lungs full of air. More shots rang out, followed by screams of women and children. Steel’s gaze shot back to the taxi driver and rushed over.

The driver had seen the look on Steel’s face but hadn’t heard the gunfire inside the taxi. He quickly locked the door as Steel rushed over. Steel banged on the window.

‘Go away, crazy man,’ the driver yelled through the glass.

‘Look, you i***t, open the door a second.’

‘Go away, ya crazy bastard,’ the driver yelled again, fighting to turn the engine on after he had stalled it trying to get away from Steel.

‘Look, someone is attacking my home. I need you to phone the police,’ Steel said. The driver shot him a cautious look. Was this a trick?

‘Yeah, right, nice try, arsehole. You owe me money, seventy quid,’ said the driver. Steel had no time to argue. He needed the police down there and soon.

‘Fine, call the police, tell them where I am, but don’t forget to tell them to send the armoured response team,’ Steel said and clambered over the gate.

The taxi driver yelled abuse at Steel and got out of the taxi. Suddenly he froze as he heard the gunfire and screams. He felt the warm liquid running down his leg. He watched as John Steel disappeared into the forest. The driver threw himself into his taxi and started the engine. The driver winced as he heard the metallic howl as the gears were forced into reverse, then he hit the accelerator. The tires screeched on the tarmac, and the car heaved backwards into the empty road. As he drove, he dialled 999 and waited for the operator.

‘Hello, which service do you require?’ came a women’s voice over the speaker.

John Steel made his way slowly through the woods he knew so well, towards the rear of the house and the sound of screams and gunfire. Steel had not gone far when he saw a figure all in black, holding an AK12 Assault rifle. Steel knew straight away; this man was a sentry. Put there to ensure that nobody got in or out.

This was not a robbery; this was an invasion – an execution. Steel stopped and slowly looked around, ensuring this man was alone and there were no others posted several feet away. There was no one, just him and the guard. Slowly, Steel crept forward, avoiding fallen branches – anything that would make a sound and give his location away.

The guard had been standing for what seemed like hours. He had no real idea why he was here or who any of these people were. All he cared about was that he was getting paid at the end of it all.

A loud c***k behind him made the man drop to one knee. He trained his weapon towards the sound. The metal and polymer stock was tight in his shoulder. His gloved hand held the foregrip and pistol grip so tightly he felt the strain in the tendons. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline surging through his body.

Suddenly a brown rabbit hopped out of the undergrowth, twitched its nose and carried on pasted. The man blew out a lungful of air, then laughed in relief as he turned to face the way he had been looking before. His eyes widened in shock and fear as he found himself face-to-face with a man in combat uniform. The mercenary went to gasp, but Steel had punched him in the throat. The mercenary dropped to his knees, clutching his fractured hyoid. A gurgling sound came from the man’s collapsed airway. He fell to the ground, and the sound ceased.

Steel quickly dropped to his knee next to the dead guard, snapping his neck. Steel didn’t have time for a full pat-down, so he just stripped the man of his tactical vest and checked the rifle’s ammo content and pistol: they were both full.

The radio on his vest crackled to life as the teams gave their Situation Reports – or sit reps.

Steel’s only thoughts were that he had to find his family and any other survivors and get them out. Also, to take out as many of these bastards as he could.

Moving stealthily, Steel crept towards the house. In front of him knelt another man. He watched the man’s head and eyes darting like some on edge animal. The man reminded Steel of a meercat, his head moving on a taught body.

Then Steel noticed four mercenaries to the far side of the man, around twenty feet away from him. They were laughing as they shot at the feet of a couple of the guests, making them dance back and forth.

John Steel snarled at the thought of these animals invading his home. He pulled the assault rifle into his shoulder and moved forwards. First, he turned to the single guard and fired. The bullet hit him in the back of the head. The lifeless body just fell forward onto the grass. As the group of mercenaries turned, Steel’s weapon was already on them. There was a burst of flame from the barrel, and each man took several bullets to the legs and head.

There was a violent eruption of blood and bone from the man’s forehead, and he dropped like a mannequin knocked over. As the last man fell, Steel stood up. His face was cold and emotionless as he sauntered over to the dead men and grabbed their ammunition belts.

As he stored the new magazines where he could, John Steel watched the group of terrified guests scattered, terrified into the safety of the woods.

Steel slipped one onto the assault rifle and chambered a fresh round, taking one of the magazines. He searched for the dead guard more carefully and was rewarded with a smoke grenade. He frowned as he surveyed the c*****e before him. Who were these men, and what did they want?

There were too many questions ringing in his head, but now was not the time to ask them. He knew he needed to reduce their numbers further, and if he could do that without being seen, then so much the better. John Steel knew he was no good to his family if he died.

A large group of armed men stood at the bottom of the steps to the house. They were there to make sure nobody got in or out.