Tidal Rage by David Evans (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

to fix on targets. He looked up ahead and saw the red spot of the laser jumping from one passenger to another, scanning the passengers.

Cutler was bemused; how could the sniper ever hope to identify his targeted victim from the back of his head? He looked up and saw Richter starting to ascend the aircraft stairs. Now he knew how he was going to identify Richter.

The sniper or help had been in the airport all the time. Somehow, they had managed to rub an illuminated marker on the rear of Richter’s coat. Cutler could barely see it, but under a scope it would be as a large bull’s-eye illuminating the target.

Cutler pulled off his own jacket while shouting at Richter to hit the floor of the stairs. Richter could just about hear the warning and his name above the idling engines. He did the last thing Cutler had wanted; he turned to face the direction of the shouted warning, rather than follow Cutler’s orders.

The force of the bullet caused the same effect as a melon exploding. Men, women, and children on the stairwell were left splattered in Richter’s brain matter. The energy of the bullet lifted Richter over the stairwell and onto the rim of the engine that hung below the wing.

Up to that stage, only Richter had been a victim, but pandemonium broke out. Passengers pushed and shoved, trying to get off the stairwell. Other passengers sat in window seats, seeing the carnage, believing it a possible terror attack, and started to run from their positions while shouting instructions to the families and friends sitting beside them. This added to the turmoil and chaos on the stairs.

Passengers fell from the stairs; the smaller ones and children were walked over or crushed in the stampede on the stairs.

Cutler tried his best to pull out the injured and dying from beneath the melee and gave first aid to those that required it most. Within three minutes of the shot, a further eleven passengers were either dead or dying of their injuries. Another twenty-two had severe injuries, of which ten were life-changing injuries.

Lothar broke down his weapon, cling-filled the several diapers, and removed any evidence of himself from the roof. He then turned on hoses located on the roof to wash away any DNA and climbed down the outer building stairwell.

Lother pressed a button on his mobile phone and the small detonator he had placed earlier ignited some fuel that had spilt out from a tank from a bonded area some several hundred metres away; the flames leapt high into the sky within seconds. Lothar watched the security guard run toward the fire, and then he exited the factory complex unseen.

Ralph picked up Lothar on the airport perimeter road and headed away from the airport as convoy after convoy of vehicles with flashing sirens headed toward it.

Cutler recovered quickly from the initial shock and knew immediately that Richter had not survived. He quickly scanned the area looking for Hoagie, but there was so much confusion, and dead and injured bodies lying around, he was unable to locate him. Police swarmed the area and removed the rest of the passengers and Cutler.

Cutler waited in the airport at first, then found out which hospital the injured had been transferred to. He went by taxi to each hospital but still had no news on Hoagie. The next morning Cutler received news that shocked and stunned him. Fabienne hacked into the UK police computer, she had accessed the file on the identification of the dead and injured from the tragic flight. All in all, twenty-one souls were lost. Hoagie had been identified by his DNA. Trapped beneath his body was a small child called Omar.

Fabienne unearthed several statements saying that they had seen the young boy fall at the bottom of the stairwell, and a large man had thrown himself over the boy to stop the sprawling, dying mass of humanity from crushing the child underfoot. Hoagie had used his body as a cage to protect Omar.

It had taken over forty passengers to trample over Hoagie before his neck had broken. In all he had seventy-two fractures; Omar had a broken arm from the initial fall.

Cutler felt proud of his agent and upset at the loss of his colleague and employee. A fallen soldier, brave to the end.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nathan Colton was as good as his word; he arrived nine hours after his initial phone call with Tuck. He boarded the first flight out of Nassau and touched down less than an hour later in Miami. Colton rented a Mercedes convertible; he refused to drive anything other than a Mercedes or BMW. He admired the German technology and the extra room in the interior to fit his bulk into.

Robert Stahmer had been correct in his assessment of the two men in the car parked fifty yards down the road from the Hilton residence. They surely did not look like they were there to spread the word of God; but more than likely to be undertaking the devil’s work. Stahmer was relieved by Tuck, who parked a bit further up the street and out of the pair’s line of sight.

Several hours after Stahmer had departed, Nathan Colton knocked lightly on the passenger window and entered the vehicle beside him and passed on greetings and pleasantries. Tuck went on to give him a full briefing on the case and the evidence they had acquired.

“They’ve been there all night in that black Buick, haven’t moved, just watching the house,” Tuck said.

“If they’ve been there all night, they’re up to no good,” Colton said in his rustic Bahamian accent.

“During school hours there are several patrol cars circulating, with vehicle identity cameras operating. Last thing you want,” Tuck stated.

“Makes you think they know the patrol hours. Professional surveillance, possible hit team.”

Just as Colton finished his sentence, Mick